Never Caught: Epilogue Summary & Analysis

During Ona’s interview with the Granite Freeman, she answered a question as to whether or not she felt “sorry” about having left Washington by stating that she was not regretful—she was meant to be a free child of God. Though Ona never expressed regret for her escape during her lifetime, Dunbar writes, Ona did leave behind many family members at Mount Vernon—family members for whom Ona’s freedom would carry a steep price. This was especially true, Dunbar writes, in the case of Ona’s younger sister Philadelphia, who was passed down to Eliza Custis Law in Ona’s place.

Though the Washingtons likely tried to keep Ona’s escape a secret from the other slaves at Mount Vernon, Dunbar writes, it is impossible that the Mount Vernon slaves would not have realized that Ona had obtained freedom. It is likely that they revered and admired her even as they missed and envied her. Whether Philadelphia was chosen to serve Eliza Custis Law due to Martha Washington’s “vindictiveness” or whether Philadelphia had otherwise proven herself suited to the job is unclear. What is clear is that Philadelphia left Mount Vernon sometime after April of 1797 to live with the Laws in Georgetown, where she no doubt noticed a small but growing number of free Black residents.

Philadelphia, like her sister, eventually married a free Black man. Philadelphia’s husband William Costin is believed by many scholars to have been the son of Ann Dandridge—an interracial half-sister of Martha Washington’s. William’s father is believed to be the son of Martha Washington—making him both the nephew and the grandson of the first lady.

As anti-slavery sentiment in the North continued to grow, slavery’s laws grew even tighter and more restrictive in states like Virginia and Maryland. The bloody slave rebellion taking place in Haiti inspired uprisings across Virginia, which only served to place even more painful restrictions on enslaved Black men and women.

After Martha Washington’s death, Eliza Custis Law inherited 43 of her grandmother’s slaves, including Philadelphia. Eliza’s sisters and her brother were allotted 38, 33, and 36 slaves respectively. Many slave families formed at Mount Vernon were broken up in the dissemination of Martha’s estate—and Philadelphia’s mother and sisters were sent to live with the young, unmarried Wash at his estate.

Eliza Custis Law’s marriage began to deteriorate in the wake of her grandmother’s death. She had only been married eight years when, in August of 1804, she and her husband Thomas agreed to a legal separation. During some point in the drawn-out, six-year-long separation, Eliza permitted her husband to emancipate some of her slaves—on June 13th of 1807, Philadelphia was freed. She was nearly 28 and married to Costin—together, they already had two young daughters. Law emancipated several other members of Costin’s family, and together, the Costins expanded their family, purchased property, and assisted enslaved and recently emancipated members of the District of Columbia’s Black population.

Though Philadelphia was free, slavery would not be abolished in the District of Columbia for another 50 years—she had to understand, Dunbar writes, just how tenuous her grasp on freedom truly was. As Costin became a “one of the pillars of early black society in Washington,” Costin continued to serve Eliza Custis Law as a carriage-driver whenever she needed him—he even lent the nomadic, newly-divorced woman financial aid at times. As Black codes in the District grew tighter, Costin began purchasing and immediately emancipating slaves, using his social capital and financial assets to help free family, friends, and other members of his community.

Ona, Dunbar writes, likely knew nothing of her younger sister Philadelphia’s life, or the ways in which Philadelphia was connected to the growing fight for emancipation and abolition. Ona may never even have known that one of her sisters named a daughter, Oney Fortune, after Ona herself—and that Oney was later purchased and emancipated by William Costin. Even with the unmitigated uncertainty and regret of leaving family members behind, Dunbar writes, Ona lived a life in which every day it was true that she would rather die than be forced to return to slavery.