American South Series – serie

A great deal has been written about southern memory centering on the Civil War, particularly the view of the war as a valiant lost cause. In this challenging new book, Bruce Baker looks at a related, and equally important, aspect of southern memory that has been treated by historians only in passing: Reconstruction. ""What Reconstruction Meant"" examines what both white and black South Carolinians thought about the history of Reconstruction and how it shaped the way they lived their lives in the first half of the twentieth century. Baker addresses the dominant white construct of ""the dark days of Reconstruction,"" which was instrumental both in ending Reconstruction and in justifying Jim Crow and the disfranchisement of African Americans in the South, setting the tone for early historians' accounts of Reconstruction. Looking back on the same era, African Americans and their supporters recalled a time of potential and of rights to be regained, inspiring their continuing struggles to change the South. Baker draws on a tremendous range of newspapers, memoirs, correspondence, and published materials, to show the intricate process by which the white-supremacist memory of Reconstruction became important in the 1890s, as segregation and disenfranchisement took hold in the South, and how it began to crumble as the civil rights movement gained momentum. Examining the southern memory of Reconstruction, in all its forms, is an essential element in understanding the society and politics of the twentieth-century South.

A great deal has been written about southern memory centering on the Civil War, particularly the view of the war as a valiant lost cause. In this challenging book Bruce E. Baker looks at a related, and equally important, aspect of southern memory that has been treated by historians only in passing: Reconstruction. He examines what both white and black South Carolinians thought about the history of Reconstruction and how it shaped the way they lived their lives in the first half of the twentieth century. Baker addresses the dominant white construct of 'the dark days of Reconstruction', which was instrumental both in ending Reconstruction and in justifying Jim Crow and the disenfranchisement of African Americans in the South, setting the tone for early historians' accounts of Reconstruction. Looking back on the same era. African Americans and their supporters recalled a time of potential and of rights to be regained, inspiring their continuing struggles to change the South. The author draws on a tremendous range of newspapers, memoirs, correspondence, and published materials to show the intricate process by which the white-supremacist memory of Reconstruction became important in the 1890s as segregation and disenfranchisement took hold in the South, and how it began to crumble as the civil rights movement gained momentum. Examining the southern memory of Reconstruction, in all its forms, is an essential element in understanding the society and politics of the twentieth-century South.

The history of African Americans in southern Appalachia after the Civil War has largely escaped the attention of scholars of both African Americans and the region. In Facing Freedom, Daniel Thorp relates the complex experience of an African American community in southern Appalachia as it negotiated a radically new world in the four decades following the Civil War. Drawing on extensive research in private collections as well as local, state, and federal records, Thorp narrates in intimate detail the experiences of black Appalachians as they struggled to establish autonomous families, improve their economic standing, operate black schools within a white-controlled school system, form independent black churches, and exercise expanded—if contested—roles as citizens and members of the body politic. Black out-migration increased markedly near the close of the nineteenth century, but the generation that transitioned from slavery to freedom in Montgomery County established the community institutions that would survive disenfranchisement and Jim Crow. Facing Freedom reveals the stories and strategies of those who pioneered these resilient bulwarks against the rising tide of racism.

In 1759, William Preston purchased sixteen enslaved Africans brought to America aboard the True Blue, an English slave ship. Over the next century, the Preston family enslaved more than two hundred individuals and used their labor to establish and operate Smithfield Plantation in Blacksburg, Virginia. Daniel Thorp uncovers the stories of the men and women who were enslaved at Smithfield, one of the first plantations west of the Blue Ridge Mountains, between its establishment in 1774 and the abolition of slavery there in 1865 and offers powerful biographies of their descendants after emancipation. In the True Blue’s Wake is the first book to chronicle the lives of the enslaved families whose labor was crucial to the success of the Prestons, a family that played a central role in the European settlement of southwestern Virginia and produced dozens of state legislators, three governors, ten members of Congress, two cabinet members, and a vice president of the United States. Drawing on records from Smithfield, the Preston family, and the surrounding community, as well as from the Freedmen’s Bureau, federal censuses, military records, newspapers, and oral histories, Thorp tracks the identities and experiences of the enslaved. He then traces the diverse paths and accomplishments of those families as they moved throughout the United States after 1865. A model of public history, In the True Blue’s Wake is an illuminating examination of an enslaved community in a region often ignored by historians of slavery in the United States yet representative of a broad swath of pivotal American history.

At the turn of the twentieth century, Amélie Rives was one of the most famous women in America. A member of Virginia’s First Families—and granddaughter of a U.S. senator, she belonged to the southern aristocracy. Considered one of the great beauties of her time, Rives leveraged both her connections and her own considerable talent to become a best-selling author and then married into the wealthy Astor family. As Jane Turner Censer makes clear in this long overdue biography, Rives’s personal story—filled with enormous triumphs and calamities—was, if anything, as fascinating as her art.Rives’s most famous novel, The Quick or the Dead?, published when she was just twenty-four, was a sensation in its time, but soon she began to grapple with marital woes, an addiction to morphine and cocaine, and reams of unfavorable press coverage. Dramatically she took control of her celebrity: she divorced her husband and married a Russian prince, broke free of addiction, and changed her image to that of a European princess. Rives then regained her writing career, including plays produced on Broadway.Censer draws from Rives’s early diaries, correspondence, and publications as well as the massive newspaper coverage she received during her lifetime to provide insights into the limits imposed on and actions taken by ambitious, elite young women in the late nineteenth-century South. As a trailblazer, Rives used her beauty, brains, and wayward behavior to make a splash in a manner later adopted by southern women as disparate as Zelda Fitzgerald and Tallulah Bankhead.

Driven to the Field traces the culture of sharecropping—crucial to understanding life in the southern United States—from Emancipation to the twenty-first century. By reading dozens of works of literature in their historical context, David A. Davis demonstrates how sharecropping emerged, endured for a century, and continues to resonate in American culture. Following the end of slavery, sharecropping initially served as an expedient solution to a practical problem, but it quickly developed into an entrenched power structure situated between slavery and freedom that exploited the labor of Blacks and poor whites to produce agricultural commodities.Sharecropping was the economic linchpin in the South’s social structure, and the region’s political system, race relations, and cultural practices were inextricably linked with this peculiar form of tenant farming from the end of the Civil War through the civil rights movement. Driven to the Field analyzes literary portrayals of this system to explain how it defined the culture of the South, revealing multiple genres of literature that depicted sharecropping, such as cotton romances, agricultural uplift novels, proletarian sharecropper fiction, and sharecropper autobiographies—important works of American literature that have never before been evaluated and discussed in their proper context.

Driven to the Field traces the culture of sharecropping—crucial to understanding life in the southern United States—from Emancipation to the twenty-first century. By reading dozens of works of literature in their historical context, David A. Davis demonstrates how sharecropping emerged, endured for a century, and continues to resonate in American culture. Following the end of slavery, sharecropping initially served as an expedient solution to a practical problem, but it quickly developed into an entrenched power structure situated between slavery and freedom that exploited the labor of Blacks and poor whites to produce agricultural commodities.Sharecropping was the economic linchpin in the South’s social structure, and the region’s political system, race relations, and cultural practices were inextricably linked with this peculiar form of tenant farming from the end of the Civil War through the civil rights movement. Driven to the Field analyzes literary portrayals of this system to explain how it defined the culture of the South, revealing multiple genres of literature that depicted sharecropping, such as cotton romances, agricultural uplift novels, proletarian sharecropper fiction, and sharecropper autobiographies—important works of American literature that have never before been evaluated and discussed in their proper context.

Assessing a university’s legacy in the age of segregationThis anthology reckons with the University of Virginia’s post-emancipation history of racial exploitation. Its fifteen essays highlight the many forms of marginalization and domination at Virginia’s once all-white flagship university to uncover the patriarchal, nativist, and elitist assumptions that shaped university culture through the late nineteenth century and well into the twentieth. Including community responses ranging from personal reflections to interviews with local leaders to poems, this accessible volume will be essential reading for anyone with ties to UVA or to Charlottesville, as well as for anyone concerned with the legacy of slavery and segregation in America’s universities.

Uncovering the history and examining the legacy of lynching in the state of VirginiaAlthough not as associated with lynching as other southern states, Virginia has a tragically extensive history with these horrific crimes. This important volume examines the more than one hundred people who were lynched in Virginia between 1866 and 1932. Its diverse set of contributors—including scholars, journalists, activists, and students—recover this wider history of lynching in Virginia, interrogate its legacy, and spotlight contemporary efforts to commemorate the victims of racial terror across the commonwealth. Together, their essays represent a small part of the growing effort to come to terms with the role Virginia played in perpetuating America’s national shame.

Uncovering the history and examining the legacy of lynching in the state of VirginiaAlthough not as associated with lynching as other southern states, Virginia has a tragically extensive history with these horrific crimes. This important volume examines the more than one hundred people who were lynched in Virginia between 1866 and 1932. Its diverse set of contributors—including scholars, journalists, activists, and students—recover this wider history of lynching in Virginia, interrogate its legacy, and spotlight contemporary efforts to commemorate the victims of racial terror across the commonwealth. Together, their essays represent a small part of the growing effort to come to terms with the role Virginia played in perpetuating America’s national shame.

A new look at the Black Virginians who defined and realized their freedom after the collapse of slavery“Verily, the work does not end with the abolition of slavery,” wrote Frederick Douglass in 1862, “but only begins.” The Emancipation Proclamation and the Thirteenth Amendment altered a legal status; to make freedom a reality represented a different challenge altogether.Justice for Ourselves tells the stories of remarkable Black men and women in post–Civil War Virginia who persevered in the face of overwhelming barriers to seek their freedom and create a new world for themselves and future generations. Drawing on the life stories of individuals from all regions of the state—political leaders, teachers, ministers, journalists, and entrepreneurs—Justice for Ourselves recounts their quests to attain full American citizenship and economic independence before the onset of Jim Crow repression. Centering Black voices, this book includes tales of opportunities seized and opportunities lost and will reshape the narrative of Black history and the history of Virginia in the second half of the nineteenth century.

Although he has largely receded from the public consciousness, John Mitchell Jr., the editor and publisher of the Richmond Planet, was well known to many black, and not a few white, Americans in his day. A contemporary of Booker T. Washington, Mitchell contrasted sharply with Washington in temperament. In his career as an editor, politician, and businessman, Mitchell followed the trajectory of optimism, bitter disappointment, and retrenchment that characterized African American life in the Reconstruction and Jim Crow South. Best known for his crusade against lynching in the 1880s, Mitchell was also involved in a number of civil rights crusades that seem more contemporary to the 1950s and 1960s than the turn of that century. He led a boycott against segregated streetcars in 1904 and fought residential segregation in Richmond in 1911. His political career included eight years on the Richmond city council, which ended with disenfranchisement in 1896. As Jim Crow strengthened its hold on the South, Mitchell, like many African American leaders, turned to creating strong financial institutions within the black community. He became a bank president and urged Planet readers to comport themselves as gentlemen, but a year after he ran for governor in 1921, Mitchell's fortunes suffered a drastic reversal. His bank failed, and he was convicted of fraud and sentenced to three years in the state penitentiary. The conviction was overturned on technicalities, but the so-called reforms that allowed state regulation of black businesses had done their worst, and Mitchell died in poverty and some disgrace. Basing her portrait on thorough primary research conducted over several decades, Ann Field Alexander brings Mitchell to life in all his complexity and contradiction, a combative, resilient figure of protest and accommodation who epitomizes the African American experience in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries.

The amazing story of one illegally enslaved Virginia family's dauntless legal appeal for freedomBefore the Civil War brought emancipation to the South, some enslaved people managed to use the legal system - the same one that had concocted and long perpetuated their bondage - to sue for their freedom from owners who unlawfully held them in slavery. In Seeking Justice, Daniel Thorp tells the story behind Unis v. Charlton's Administrator, one of the most extensive of these freedom suits in all of American history.It began when a woman, known only as Flora, was born in Connecticut and sold into slavery in Virginia. Her children sued, and over more than thirty years, four cases involving almost fifty plaintiffs moved through the Virginia court system before finally reaching a conclusion in 1855. Seeking Justice narrates this remarkable saga, illuminating Black Americans' legal literacy and shining a light on the unusual permutations of the antebellum judicial world and the courage it took for Flora's family to plunge into the legal heart of a slave society.

The amazing story of one illegally enslaved Virginia family's dauntless legal appeal for freedom Before the Civil War brought emancipation to the South, some enslaved people managed to use the legal system - the same one that had concocted and long perpetuated their bondage - to sue for their freedom from owners who unlawfully held them in slavery. In Seeking Justice, Daniel Thorp tells the story behind Unis v. Charlton's Administrator, one of the most extensive of these freedom suits in all of American history. It began when a woman, known only as Flora, was born in Connecticut and sold into slavery in Virginia. Her children sued, and over more than thirty years, four cases involving almost fifty plaintiffs moved through the Virginia court system before finally reaching a conclusion in 1855. Seeking Justice narrates this remarkable saga, illuminating Black Americans' legal literacy and shining a light on the unusual permutations of the antebellum judicial world and the courage it took for Flora's family to plunge into the legal heart of a slave society.

From the cotton boll to the Cotton Bowl in modern American cultureThere are few places on earth as thoroughly identified with a crop as the American South is with cotton. Burgundy is known for wine, and Java has coffee. In the South, for most of its history, cotton was king. Through much of the twentieth century, cotton cultivation determined nearly every aspect of life in the region. In Bale After Bale, leading historians and cultural critics offer multifaceted examinations and multimedia approaches to understanding the place of cotton in the twentieth-century South.The essays in this collection examine the history of the hands that picked and processed cotton, the communities who celebrated cotton, the unions who organized cotton workers, the connections between cotton farmers in the South and banana farmers in Latin America, the portrayal of cotton in Faulkner's Yoknapatawpha County, the poems and songs of the boll weevil, the role of cotton in blues music, the depiction of cotton on the silver screen, and the memories of people displaced by mechanical cotton pickers. As these essays demonstrate, understanding the nature of cotton's persistence into the twentieth century and the decline of the cotton economy are crucial to understanding the contemporary South and today's United States.

From the cotton boll to the Cotton Bowl in modern American cultureThere are few places on earth as thoroughly identified with a crop as the American South is with cotton. Burgundy is known for wine, and Java has coffee. In the South, for most of its history, cotton was king. Through much of the twentieth century, cotton cultivation determined nearly every aspect of life in the region. In Bale After Bale, leading historians and cultural critics offer multifaceted examinations and multimedia approaches to understanding the place of cotton in the twentieth-century South.The essays in this collection examine the history of the hands that picked and processed cotton, the communities who celebrated cotton, the unions who organized cotton workers, the connections between cotton farmers in the South and banana farmers in Latin America, the portrayal of cotton in Faulkner's Yoknapatawpha County, the poems and songs of the boll weevil, the role of cotton in blues music, the depiction of cotton on the silver screen, and the memories of people displaced by mechanical cotton pickers. As these essays demonstrate, understanding the nature of cotton's persistence into the twentieth century and the decline of the cotton economy are crucial to understanding the contemporary South and today's United States.

An authoritative study of the free people of color in the largest state of the Old SouthVirginia was the state with the most enslaved people prior to the Civil War. It was also at one time the state with the most resident free people of color—free from the legal disabilities specifically associated with enslavement but still denied many basic civil rights. Written by an award-winning expert on free people of color in the American South, Freedom in the Age of Slavery is the first modern comprehensive history of free Virginians of color from the colonial period through Reconstruction.Milteer recounts in granular detail the discriminatory policies and resulting hardships that free Virginians of color faced, while also documenting the openings they created for themselves and the successes they enjoyed against overwhelming odds. Throughout, he highlights the commonwealth's significance as the laboratory for legal discrimination throughout the nation, while never losing sight of the ways free people of color seized their opportunities wherever possible and built meaningful lives in the face of massive white resistance.

An authoritative study of the free people of color in the largest state of the Old South.Virginia was the state with the most enslaved people prior to the Civil War. It was also at one time the state with the most resident free people of color—free from the legal disabilities specifically associated with enslavement but still denied many basic civil rights. Written by an award-winning expert on free people of color in the American South, Freedom in the Age of Slavery is the first modern comprehensive history of free Virginians of color from the colonial period through Reconstruction.Milteer recounts in granular detail the discriminatory policies and resulting hardships that free Virginians of color faced, while also documenting the openings they created for themselves and the successes they enjoyed against overwhelming odds. Throughout, he highlights the commonwealth's significance as the laboratory for legal discrimination throughout the nation, while never losing sight of the ways free people of color seized their opportunities wherever possible and built meaningful lives in the face of massive white resistance.