MARGARET HILL MORRIS, a struggling widow with four children, had moved in with her sister who was the wife of a Quaker missionary in New Jersey. In December 1776, Margaret decided to keep a journal “for the amusement” of another sister, Milcah Martha Moore, who was living nearby having left Philadelphia when it was threatened by the British. During this turbulent time—General Cornwallis was moving across New Jersey, the British had blockaded the Delaware River, and General Washington and his troops had fled into Pennsylvania—Margaret tried to tread a fine line between patriot and loyalist, distressed by the suffering she saw around her. The house in which she lived overlooked the Delaware River allowing her to observe the goings on as vessels called row-galleys or gondolas patrolled or bombarded.

December 6th, 1776Being on a visit to my friend M S. at Haddonfield. I was preparing to return to my Family, when a Person from Philada told us the people there were in great Commotion, that the English fleet was in the River & hourly expected to sail up to the City; that the inhabitants were removing into the Country, & that several persons of considerable repute had been discoverd to have formd a design of setting fire to the City, & were Summoned before the Congress and strictly injoind to drop the horrid purpose—when I heard the above report my heart almost died within me, & I cried surely the Lord will not punish the innocent with the guilty, & I wishd there might be found some interceeding Lotts & Abrahams amongst our People. . . . I thought of my S D. [Sarah Dillwyn, her sister] the beloved Companion of my Widowd State—her Husband at the distance of some hundred miles from her—I thought of my own lonely situation, no Husband to cheer, with the voice of love, my Sinking spirits. My little flock too, without a Father to direct them how to Steer,—all these things crouded into my mind at once, & I felt like one forsaken—a flood of friendly tears came to my relief—& I felt an humble Confidence, that he, who had been with me in six troubles would not forsake me now—While I cherishd this hope my tranquility was restord, & I felt no Sensations but of humble Acquiescense to the Divine Will—& was favord to find my Family in health, on my Arrival, & my Dear Companion not greatly discomposd, for which favor I desire to be made truly thankful—

8th. Every day begins & ends with the same accounts, & we hear today the Regulars are at Trenton—some of our Neighbors gone, & others going, makes our little Bank look lonesome; but our trust in Providence still firm, & we dare not even talk of removing our Family. . . .

More from Margaret Hill Morris in the next post.

The passages quoted can be found on page 98 of In the Words of Women and in the Journal online HERE.

As a postscript to the story of Ona Judge Staines, it is revealing to consider the words and actions of her owner, the president of the United States, in regard to her enslavement and escape. In September of 1796 (Oney had fled in May), George Washington sent a letter to Secretary of State Oliver Wolcott in which he described the girl. “She has been the particular attendant on Mrs. Washington since she was ten years old; and was handy and useful to her being perfect Mistress of her needle.” Having learned that Oney was in New Hampshire, Washington asked Wolcott to seek the help of that state’s collector of customs Joseph Whipple in retrieving her.

To seize, and put her on board a Vessel bound immediately to this place, or to Alexandria which I should like better, seems at first view, to be the safest and leas[t] expensive [option]. . . .
I am sorry to give you, or anyone else trouble on such a trifling occasion, but the ingratitude of the girl, who was brought up and treated more like a child than a Servant (and Mrs. Washington’s desire to recover her) ought not to escape with impunity if it can be avoided.

Whipple managed to meet with Judge and found himself sympathizing with her. He was surprised and pleased when Oney offered to return to President Washington if he would promise to manumit her in his will. But when Whipple reported this proposal to the President, Washington was affronted.

I regret that the attempt you made to restore the Girl should have been attended with so little Success. To enter into such a compromise with her, as she suggested to you, is totally inadmissible, for reasons that must strike at first view: 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 in itself practicable at this moment) it would neither be politic or just to reward unfaithfulness with a premature preference; and thereby discontent before hand the minds of all her fellow-servants who by their steady attachments are far more deserving than herself of favor.

After his retirement to Mount Vernon, when Oney thought she would be safe, Washington continued to press for her return, as has been noted in the previous post. He sent Martha Washington”s nephew Burwell Bassett to accomplish this; Bassett even considered taking her by force, but, forewarned, Oney managed to slip away yet again.
Washington’s attitude and behavior show him to be very much a man of his time (and place—the South) with regard to slavery. A slaveholder who was ambivalent at best about the morality of enslaving human beings, he was more than willing to pursue and capture the fugitive Oney. She was, after all, valuable property and a dower slave for whose loss he would have to reimburse Martha’s heirs by her first husband. What is really rather remarkable is that Oney’s desire to be free seemed to be totally incomprehensible to the Washingtons, both George and Martha. To his credit, Washington, in his will, did manumit his own faithful slave and valet, William Lee, who had accompanied him throughout the Revolution.

Several quoted passages appear in Here is Where: Discovering America’s Great Forgotten History by Andrew Carroll (New York: Crown Archetype, 2013), 29-31. The paragraph from George Washington’s letter to Joseph Whipple, November 28, 1796, is from The Writings of George Washington, 35:297, as quoted in an article titled “William Lee & Oney Judge: a Look at George Washington & Slavery” by Mary V. Thompson that appeared in Journal of the American Revolution.

In New Hampshire, ONEY JUDGE lived with a free black family and began a new life, working as a seamstress. She learned to read and became a Christian. In 1797, she married Jack Staines, a seaman, and had a child. In an interview fifty years later Oney explained why she had escaped. She said she left the Washington household in Philadelphia because she feared that if she were returned to Mount Vernon as was planned she would never be able to get away. She was also unhappy because Martha Washington told her she had promised to give her as a wedding present to her eldest granddaughter Elizabeth Custis. Oney said “she did not want to be a slave always.” She recollected the frightening attempts to return her to the life she had fled

Gen. Washington sent on a man by the name of Bassett [Burwell Bassett Jr., Washington’s nephew], to prevail on her to go back. He saw her, and used all the persuasion he could, but she utterly refused to go with him. He returned, and then came again, with orders to take her by force, and carry her back. He put up with the late Gov. [John] Langdon, and made known his business, and the Governor gave her notice that she must leave Portsmouth that night, or she would be carried back. She went to a stable, and hired a boy, with a horse and carriage, to carry her to Mr. [John] Jack’s, at Greenland, where she now resides, a distance of eight miles, and remained there until her husband returned from sea, and Bassett did not find her.
She says that she never received the least mental or moral instruction of any kind while she remained in Washington’s family. But, after she came to Portsmouth, she learned to read. . . . She says that the stories told of Washington’s piety and prayers, so far as she ever saw or heard while she was his slave, have no foundation. Card-playing and wine-drinking were the business at his parties, and he had more of such company Sundays than on any other day.

Although Oney Judge Staines eluded capture, her life proved more difficult than the one she had left. She outlived her husband and three children by many years, and died a pauper in 1848. Did she regret her decision to run away? “No, I am free, and have, I trust, been made a child of God by the means.”

See In the Words of Women, pages 216-19. Also see an article titled “Washington’s Runaway Slave, and How Portsmouth Freed Her.” by Rev. T.H. Adams, in The Granite Freeman, Concord, New Hampshire (May 22, 1845) and an interview by Rev. Benjamin Chase, published as a Letter to the Editor, in The Liberator, January 1, 1847. Both appear on a website called The President’s House in Philadelphia.

ONA JUDGE, called Oney, was a slave in the household of George and Martha Washington. The child of a dower slave Betty (belonging to Martha) and a white indentured servant, Oney was Martha’s personal maid who powdered her mistress’s hair and helped her dress. She was also a skilled seamstress. Oney and six other house slaves accompanied the Washingtons in their move from Mount Vernon to New York, and then to Philadelphia when those cities were capitals of the new nation and George Washington was its president.
In Philadelphia, the First Family rented a large house with rooms on the second floor “sufficient for the accomodations of Mrs. Washington & the children & their maids” including Oney. Account books make mention of some of the expenses for the slaves: in February 1791, Martha Washington gave “Austin, Hercules [the cook], Moll & Oney 1 doll[ar] each & Chris. ½ doll. to buy things to send home” and, on June 6, 1792, gave money to “Austin, Hercules & Oney to go to the Play.” Going to the theater was a pastime the Washingtons greatly enjoyed.
Though treated relatively well, Washington’s slaves were not free, their lives otherwise constrained. To circumvent Pennsylvania’s 1780 law, which provided for the emancipation of slaves of citizens after a six-month residency, George Washington routinely cycled his slaves back and forth between Mount Vernon and Philadelphia. He was not willing to risk the loss of his wife’s dower slaves, particularly as he would have had to reimburse her estate for them. Oney and Moll were trusted and seem to have had some freedom of movement in the city.
In 1796, Oney Judge walked out of the mansion on High Street and secured passage on a vessel bound for Portsmouth, New Hampshire, where she hoped to live among other free blacks. The Washingtons were not happy to see her go and posted an ad in the Pennsylvania Gazette offering a reward for her capture and return. The ad reads:

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 black hair. She is of middle stature, slender, about 20 years of age and delicately formed.
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

More about Oney Judge in the next post.

In the Words of Women, pages 217-18. Advertisement and additional information from University of Delaware online magazine.