Black Cow was the street name of an abortifacient that had been prescribed by the witch Maw Possum since before the war. It was sought by slaves who did not wish for children born into bondage, or who were raped and impregnated by their white masters. It was not the only abortifacient she prescribed, for she would also prescribe potions of tansy or herb-of-grace depending on the customer's constitution. What Spiderman had discovered, however, is that in sufficient (but not too much!) doses Black Cow would induce a euphoric state, which he described as the 'wiggles.'
According to an 1881 article in the Scientific American it consisted of a tincture of ergot, soda phosphate and water sweetened with molasses. It was not particularly addictive, though its unusual sensations were increasingly sought in the underbelly of Reconstruction society. Ergot, a fungal poison of rye, was the active ingredient. In excess quantities it triggered seizures and vomiting or, worse, vascular trauma and dry gangrene. Cases of St. Anthony's Fire, as the disease ergotism was called then, were on the rise in Limestone County, which perplexed Royal Bill, the sheriff.
When Spiderman saw Braxton he smiled. He was missing so many teeth you could see his tongue. They exchanged a curiously bumping but friendly handshake and Braxton passed a roll of Yankee greenbacks for which he received a small fruit box. It contained a dozen apothecary bottles of Black Cow. Braxton at once wrapped the parcel in gunny cloth. Once this furtive exchange was complete they sat down together on the grass and grooved to the music that filled Strangetown. They ate fried chicken and smoked a marihuana cigar that Spiderman rolled up from a string bag he kept in his pocket. The conversation was convivial, but it was most unusual for the reason that Braxton was the scion of a Greek.
Braxton Butler III had returned home from the University of Alabama when the Yankee army had burned down the campus. He spent several years loafing around Limestone County, frequenting the races and saloons of Strangetown to the odium of his family. Now that the war was over, he was planning to return to Tuscaloosa to study law. And so from his dormitory in Woods Hall he sold all twelve bottles within a week to his fraternity brothers in Alpha Gamma. When he returned to Athens for fall break they had made over $200. They kicked back a fifth to Maw Possum for her tax, then they discussed ways they could grow their little operation.
As fortune would have it, Congress passed the Comstock Laws banning the interstate commerce of pornography, contraceptives and abortifacients. The price of Black Cow rocketed in price from $15 to $25 per bottle. Braxton, whose youthful entrepreneurial spirit was piqued, bought ergot-tainted rye from Kentucky for pennies on the bushel. They partnered with a notoriously dangerous black marketeer from Nashville called the Melungeon, whose network spanned the length of the L&N Railroad. Within a few weeks they were bottling Black Cow in the grave keeper’s shack behind Dement Cemetery. By the end of the year they were grossing $1,700.
There is an old adage that if two partners go into business and they make $10, they split their earnings gratefully down the middle. But if two partners make $1,000, then each partner becomes a sunnuvabitch to the other not worth their keep. And so it was with the Melungeon, who increasingly saw his network as the linchpin to the whole operation. His gang were a rough-hewn folk from the East Tennessee mountains known as the Crab Orchard Boys. They were killers all, veterans of the violent Unionist insurgency whipped up by William Brownlow, who was now a Tennessee Senator and a political ally of the Melungeon. With the L&N Railroad now being extended towards the Coosa Valley and the settlement of Birmingham, the Melungeon began to his set his sights south. Strangetown, with its anomalous prosperity in a region destitute from war, seemed like the perfect place to move shop.
According to an 1881 article in the Scientific American it consisted of a tincture of ergot, soda phosphate and water sweetened with molasses. It was not particularly addictive, though its unusual sensations were increasingly sought in the underbelly of Reconstruction society. Ergot, a fungal poison of rye, was the active ingredient. In excess quantities it triggered seizures and vomiting or, worse, vascular trauma and dry gangrene. Cases of St. Anthony's Fire, as the disease ergotism was called then, were on the rise in Limestone County, which perplexed Royal Bill, the sheriff.
When Spiderman saw Braxton he smiled. He was missing so many teeth you could see his tongue. They exchanged a curiously bumping but friendly handshake and Braxton passed a roll of Yankee greenbacks for which he received a small fruit box. It contained a dozen apothecary bottles of Black Cow. Braxton at once wrapped the parcel in gunny cloth. Once this furtive exchange was complete they sat down together on the grass and grooved to the music that filled Strangetown. They ate fried chicken and smoked a marihuana cigar that Spiderman rolled up from a string bag he kept in his pocket. The conversation was convivial, but it was most unusual for the reason that Braxton was the scion of a Greek.
Braxton Butler III had returned home from the University of Alabama when the Yankee army had burned down the campus. He spent several years loafing around Limestone County, frequenting the races and saloons of Strangetown to the odium of his family. Now that the war was over, he was planning to return to Tuscaloosa to study law. And so from his dormitory in Woods Hall he sold all twelve bottles within a week to his fraternity brothers in Alpha Gamma. When he returned to Athens for fall break they had made over $200. They kicked back a fifth to Maw Possum for her tax, then they discussed ways they could grow their little operation.
As fortune would have it, Congress passed the Comstock Laws banning the interstate commerce of pornography, contraceptives and abortifacients. The price of Black Cow rocketed in price from $15 to $25 per bottle. Braxton, whose youthful entrepreneurial spirit was piqued, bought ergot-tainted rye from Kentucky for pennies on the bushel. They partnered with a notoriously dangerous black marketeer from Nashville called the Melungeon, whose network spanned the length of the L&N Railroad. Within a few weeks they were bottling Black Cow in the grave keeper’s shack behind Dement Cemetery. By the end of the year they were grossing $1,700.
There is an old adage that if two partners go into business and they make $10, they split their earnings gratefully down the middle. But if two partners make $1,000, then each partner becomes a sunnuvabitch to the other not worth their keep. And so it was with the Melungeon, who increasingly saw his network as the linchpin to the whole operation. His gang were a rough-hewn folk from the East Tennessee mountains known as the Crab Orchard Boys. They were killers all, veterans of the violent Unionist insurgency whipped up by William Brownlow, who was now a Tennessee Senator and a political ally of the Melungeon. With the L&N Railroad now being extended towards the Coosa Valley and the settlement of Birmingham, the Melungeon began to his set his sights south. Strangetown, with its anomalous prosperity in a region destitute from war, seemed like the perfect place to move shop.
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