Dark Matter

blunthought:

“When he escaped to England in 1847, the former slave who had been known as “Fed” claimed John Brown as his full name. Brown was a compact dark-skinned man in his forties, with strong features and a dense thatch of black hair that sprang from his crown at an angle, though it had been brushed to either side of an indeterminate part. His body bore the stigmata of enslavement: his hands were latticed with ropy scars and the black iris of his bulging right eye lay off center, perpetually looking inward. For all this, the worn collodion image gracing his memoirs shows a man of estimable appearance in a sober woolen suit and brocade waistcoat. He is neither smiling nor frowning, but exudes a satisfied air of quiet dignity—a survivor. But of what? In 1855, Brown described his enslavement to L. A. Chamerovzow, secretary of the British and Foreign Anti-Slavery Society, which published his memoirs as Slave Life in Georgia.
Among Brown’s most remarkable recollections was the period he spent with Dr. Thomas Hamilton of Clinton, Georgia, during the 1820’s and early 1830’s. Hamilton was not only a widely respected physician but the very epitome of a southern gentleman. He was born into wealth in Washington, Georgia, graduated from the University of Pennsylvania School of Medicine, and became a wealthy plantation owner, physician, politician, and trustee of the Medical Academy of Georgia.
But Hamilton had another face. Brown Recalls how he fell into the doctor’s hands when his master, a man named Stevens, fell ill.
I do not know what his malady was. It must have been serious, for they called in to treat him one Doctor Hamilton who lived in Jones County, and who had a great name. He cured Stevens, who was so pleased, that he told the Doctor to ask him any favour, and it should be granted. Now it so happened that this Doctor Hamilton had been trying a great number of experiments, fir the purpose of finding out the best remedies for sun-stroke. I was, it seems, a strong and likely subject to be experimented upon, and the Doctor having fixed the thing in his mind, asked Stevens to lend me to him. This he did at once, never caring to inquire what was going to be done with me. I myself did not know. Even if I had been made aware of the nature of the trials I was about to undergo, I could not have helped myself. There was nothing for it but passive resignation, and I gave myself up in ignorance and much fear.
Hamilton had a deep pit dug, and built a fire in it that he damped so that only the burning embers remained; these were retained until the doctor, using a thermometer, ascertained that the pit was sufficiently hot. He then made Brown sit naked on a stool in the pit and covered the opening with a wet blanket to retain the heat. Only Brown’s head was exposed while temperatures routinely exceeded one hundred degrees. Hamilton then administered his various heat remedies until, Brown recalls “though I tried hard to keep up against its effects, in about half an hour I fainted, I was then lifted out and revived, the Doctor taking note of the degrees of heat when I left the pit.”

After each day’s work in the fields, Brown was given some nostrum and made to repeat the ordeal. But after all this “scientific” effort, Hamilton resorted to chicanery.

He [Hamilton] found that cayenne-pepper tea accomplished his object; and a very nice thing he made of it. As soon as he got back home, he advertised that he had discovered a remedy for sun-stroke. It consisted of pills which were to be dissolved in cayenne-pepper tea without which, he said, the pills would not produce any effect, Nor do I see how they should have done so, for they were only made of common flour. However he succeeded in getting them into general use, and as he asked a good price, he soon realized a large fortune.
After a few days’ rest, Brown was subjected to a new set of experiments, for which he was bled every other day. But still worse was to come: “He set to work to ascertain how deep my black skin went. Thus he did by applying blisters to my hands, legs and feet, which bear the scars to this day. He used to blister me at intervals of about two weeks. He also tried other experiments upon me, which I cannot dwell upon.”

After Brown’s matter-of-fact account of being poached to the point of fainting and of his repeated burned and flayed skin, one wonders what other experimental horrors he “cannot dwell upon.” When he could bear the surgical torture no longer, Brown fled to England.”

| Harriet A. Washington

This is some ‘ole funky shit. I hate reading accounts such as this. Who says that we must love our enemies? Remind me who came up with that saying again!

“When he escaped to England in 1847, the former slave who had been known as “Fed” claimed John Brown as his full name. Brown was a compact dark-skinned man in his forties, with strong features and a dense thatch of black hair that sprang from his crown at an angle, though it had been brushed to either side of an indeterminate part. His body bore the stigmata of enslavement: his hands were latticed with ropy scars and the black iris of his bulging right eye lay off center, perpetually looking inward. For all this, the worn collodion image gracing his memoirs shows a man of estimable appearance in a sober woolen suit and brocade waistcoat. He is neither smiling nor frowning, but exudes a satisfied air of quiet dignity—a survivor. But of what? In 1855, Brown described his enslavement to L. A. Chamerovzow, secretary of the British and Foreign Anti-Slavery Society, which published his memoirs as Slave Life in Georgia.

Among Brown’s most remarkable recollections was the period he spent with Dr. Thomas Hamilton of Clinton, Georgia, during the 1820’s and early 1830’s. Hamilton was not only a widely respected physician but the very epitome of a southern gentleman. He was born into wealth in Washington, Georgia, graduated from the University of Pennsylvania School of Medicine, and became a wealthy plantation owner, physician, politician, and trustee of the Medical Academy of Georgia.

But Hamilton had another face. Brown Recalls how he fell into the doctor’s hands when his master, a man named Stevens, fell ill.

I do not know what his malady was. It must have been serious, for they called in to treat him one Doctor Hamilton who lived in Jones County, and who had a great name. He cured Stevens, who was so pleased, that he told the Doctor to ask him any favour, and it should be granted. Now it so happened that this Doctor Hamilton had been trying a great number of experiments, fir the purpose of finding out the best remedies for sun-stroke. I was, it seems, a strong and likely subject to be experimented upon, and the Doctor having fixed the thing in his mind, asked Stevens to lend me to him. This he did at once, never caring to inquire what was going to be done with me. I myself did not know. Even if I had been made aware of the nature of the trials I was about to undergo, I could not have helped myself. There was nothing for it but passive resignation, and I gave myself up in ignorance and much fear.

Hamilton had a deep pit dug, and built a fire in it that he damped so that only the burning embers remained; these were retained until the doctor, using a thermometer, ascertained that the pit was sufficiently hot. He then made Brown sit naked on a stool in the pit and covered the opening with a wet blanket to retain the heat. Only Brown’s head was exposed while temperatures routinely exceeded one hundred degrees. Hamilton then administered his various heat remedies until, Brown recalls “though I tried hard to keep up against its effects, in about half an hour I fainted, I was then lifted out and revived, the Doctor taking note of the degrees of heat when I left the pit.”

After each day’s work in the fields, Brown was given some nostrum and made to repeat the ordeal. But after all this “scientific” effort, Hamilton resorted to chicanery.

He [Hamilton] found that cayenne-pepper tea accomplished his object; and a very nice thing he made of it. As soon as he got back home, he advertised that he had discovered a remedy for sun-stroke. It consisted of pills which were to be dissolved in cayenne-pepper tea without which, he said, the pills would not produce any effect, Nor do I see how they should have done so, for they were only made of common flour. However he succeeded in getting them into general use, and as he asked a good price, he soon realized a large fortune.

After a few days’ rest, Brown was subjected to a new set of experiments, for which he was bled every other day. But still worse was to come: “He set to work to ascertain how deep my black skin went. Thus he did by applying blisters to my hands, legs and feet, which bear the scars to this day. He used to blister me at intervals of about two weeks. He also tried other experiments upon me, which I cannot dwell upon.”

After Brown’s matter-of-fact account of being poached to the point of fainting and of his repeated burned and flayed skin, one wonders what other experimental horrors he “cannot dwell upon.” When he could bear the surgical torture no longer, Brown fled to England.”

| Harriet A. Washington

This is some ‘ole funky shit. I hate reading accounts such as this. Who says that we must love our enemies? Remind me who came up with that saying again!

(via wontbetelevised)

Source: blunthought