The sufferings of the enslaved in the Americas and Europe in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries were myriad and complex. They were general and particular – which is to say, on the one hand, elemental to the slave condition, and, on the other, differential according to age, sex, and (though often understated) geography. The regular allusions to the formerly enslaved narrators’ “life and sufferings” in the titles and subtitles of their published testimonies – Briton Hammon’s A Narrative of the Uncommon Sufferings, and Surprizing Deliverance of Briton Hammon, a Negro Man (1760), for instance, or The Life, History, and Unparalleled Sufferings of John Jea, the African Preacher (1811) by John Jea – foreshadowed chroniclings of unspeakable abuses to the captives’ bodies and minds. While these violations of the physical and psychological personhood of the enslaved were so severe as to be mostly indivisible categories of Black captive injury, it is undeniable that they were borne on and by the body. Even as the most significant reflections on the body in antebellum American culture – Hortense Spillers, Walter Johnson, Thavolia Glymph, and Saidiya Hartman included – devote invaluable attention to the bodies of Black women and men in bondage, Toni Morrison also made clear in Playing in the Dark: Whiteness and the Literary Imagination (1992) that Black captivity had deep consequences for enactments of white embodiment too.