Page 255

“…whipped and then burned to death.”

The National Anti-Slavery Standard, January 17, 1857, p. 3.

“…hung for murdering their master…”

The National Anti-Slavery Standard, January 17, 1857, p. 3.

“There were further uprisings…”

The National Era, December 18, 1856, p. 202.

“…powder and muskets were found…”

The National Anti-Slavery Standard, January 10, 1857, p. 2.

“…arrested and lashed in Alexandria…”

The National Anti-Slavery Standard, January 10, 1857, p. 2.

“…owners killed fifteen…”

The National Era, December 18, 1856, p. 201.

“…eleven men were hanged…”

The National Era, December 18, 1856, p. 201.

“…nine hundred lashes.”

The National Anti-Slavery Standard, December 20, 1856, p. 1.

“…brought a doctor…”

See “…Dr. John Francis…,” above.

As though there weren’t enough connections between Sims and the Maury family, the same John Francis who would play a pivotal role in the formation of Woman’s Hospital was also the Maury family physician. As will be documented shortly, Francis would also attend to the first birth of Ann Fontaine Maury. Anarcha would not have been privy to the decision-making that resulted in her being sent to Woman’s Hospital, but it would make sense that Francis would suggest this, as his association with Woman’s Hospital was ongoing, and he too would have recognized the significance of Anarcha’s ongoing condition.

Letters from Ann Fontaine Maury to Ann Maury, undated (likely 1855), and from Rutson Maury to Ann Maury, August 5, 1855, held in the Maury Family materials at the Special Collections department of the Swem Library at William and Mary College in Williamsburg, Virginia.

“…it was very strange indeed…”

See “There was no sign outside…,” above.

I found only one reference to an enslaved patient at Woman’s Hospital, though Dr. Lewis Wall claims to have seen another in the case record books. I have no reason to doubt him—I simply haven’t seen it—but what is certain is that Anarcha would have been the first enslaved patient admitted. I think it goes without saying that this would have been thought remarkable, at the least.

“He did not greet her…”

As already described (see “…a large Irishwoman named Mary Smith…” and “…operated on a number of times…,” above), there is good reason to doubt the veracity of the Woman’s Hospital case record books. My excavation of Anarcha’s story hinges on the fact that she was never cured, in direct contradiction to the narrative upon which Sims’s entire legacy rests. When Sims learned that Anarcha was not cured, and that others in the medical profession knew it, he was in a bind. He needed to be able to claim that she was cured, once again. As will be seen later, Sims abandoned his “clamp suture,” and was preparing to hinge his fame on his association with silver sutures, which he had previously downplayed as having been essential to the cure. If his “first cure” was also revealed not to have been cured, his entire enterprise might have been threatened.

My retelling of Anarcha’s time at Woman’s Hospital—particularly in regard to her interactions with Sims—is based on the fact that Sims would have been attempting to hide her. He couldn’t very well hide her name from others, but he could avoid her, and avoid giving the impression that he knew her. The case record account of Anarcha’s time in Woman’s Hospital is about on par with many of the other records contained in the books, and Sims does not remark on Anarcha’s identity (nor does he note the fact that he was again operating for fistula on an enslaved woman with a rare name, of the same age, even though his records often do record cases’ unusual features). What makes the most sense is that Sims would have avoided being seen with her, and would have made an effort, in front of others, to appear as if he didn’t know her.

“…a little girl when the stars fell on Alabama.”

The uncertainty about her age in Anarcha’s case record book suggests that Anarcha was herself unsure of how old she was. It follows that, along with other enslaved people, Anarcha would have estimated her age by fixing it in proximity to the night the stars fell (see “Families would recall…,” above).

Anarcha’s case record, in the first of three surviving case record books, is held at the Arthur H. Aufses, Jr. Medical Archives and Mount Sinai Records office at Mount Sinai Hospital in New York City, New York.