On June 1,1792, Kentucky became the fifteenth state in the new nation and the first west of the Alleghenies. Lowell Harrison reviews the tangled and protracted process by which Virginia's westernmost territory achieved statehood.By the early 1780s, survival of the Kentucky settlements, so uncertain only a few years earlier, was assured. The end of the American Revolution curtailed British support for Indian raids, and thousands of settlers sought a better life in the "Eden of the West." They swarmed through Cumberland Gap and down the Ohio River, cleared the land for crops, and established towns. The division of sprawling Kentucky County into three counties in 1780 indicated its rapid growth, and that growth accelerated during the following decade.With population increase came sentiment for separation from Virginia. Such demands had been voiced earlier, but a definite separation movement began in 1784 when a convention -- the first of ten such -- met in Danville. Not until April 1792 was a constitution finally drafted under which the Commonwealth of Kentucky could enter the Union. While most Kentuckians favored separation, they differed over how and when and on what terms it should occur. Three factions struggled to control the movement, but their goals and methods shifted with changing circumstances. This confusing situation was made more complex by the presence of the exotic James Wilkinson and the "Spanish Conspiracy" he fomented.Harrison addresses many questions about the convoluted process of statehood: why separation was desired, why it was so difficult to achieve, what type of government the 1792 constitution established, and how Governor Isaac Shelby and the first General Assembly implemented it. His engaging account, which includes the text of the first constitution, will be treasured by all Kentuckians.

Harlan. Known today to every student of constitutional law, principally for his dissenting opinions in early racial discrimination cases, Harlan was an important actor in every major public issue that came before the Supreme Court during his thirty-three-year tenure.Named by a hopeful father for Chief Justice John Marshall, Harlan began his career as a member of the Kentucky Whig slavocracy. Loren Beth traces the young lawyer's development from these early years through the secession crisis and Civil War, when Harlan remained loyal to the Union, both as a politician and as a soldier. As Beth demonstrates, Harlan gradually shifted during these years to an antislavery Republicanism that still emphasized his adherence to the Whig principles of Unionism and national power as against states' rights.Harlan's Supreme Court career (1877-1911) was characterized by his fundamental disagreement with nearly every judicial colleague of his day. His ultimate stance -- as the Great Dissenter, the champion of civil rights, the upholder of the powers of Congress -- emerges as the logical outgrowth of his pre-Court life. Harlan's significance for today's reader is underlined by the Supreme Court's adoption, beginning in the 1930s, of most of his positions on the Fourteenth Amendment and the Commerce Clause of the Constitution.This fine biography is also an important contribution to constitutional history. Historians, political scientists, and legal scholars will come from its pages with renewed appreciation for one of our judicial giants.

"To the victors belong the spoils" is a time-honored cliche. When in 1865 northern armies defeated the greatest challenge ever posed to the Union, issues of spoils and peace terms dominated public debate. But precisely what did the victorious North want from the Reconstruction process? Historians generally have shown far less interest in northern goals than in what terms southerners were willing to accept. Robert Sawrey now seeks to redress the balance by examining the post-Civil War attitudes of a representative northern state, Ohio.Sawrey's probing study explores precisely what the key issues were for politically active Ohioans and what they sought in a Reconstruction policy. Through extensive research in contemporary newspapers, manuscripts, legislative debates, and diaries, he offers the most complete picture ever presented of northern attitudes on the two crucial issues of Reconstruction -- the terms of readmission and the fate of the former slaves.Ohioans' struggle to find an equation for restoring a Union that now included nearly four million free blacks was complicated, he finds, by their prejudices and their belief in white superiority. Because they regarded the "planter conspiracy" as a primary cause of the war, they sought to assure future peace through control of the planters -- a position that compelled them to advocate basic rights for ex-slaves. At the same time, they continued to support white supremacy throughout the nation. To reconcile these contradictory positions was a daunt-ing task. Yet by 1870, Sawrey finds, most politically involved Ohioans believed Reconstruction had secured their basic goals.Dubious Victory offers a fresh approach to understanding the limits of what was achievable during Reconstruction. It also explains why the achievements of the period now seem to have been so limited.

The public health movement in the South began in the wake of a yellow fever epidemic that devastated the lower Mississippi Valley in 1878--a disaster that caused 20,000 deaths and financial losses of nearly $200 million. The full scale of the epidemic and the tentative, troubled southern response to it are for the first time fully examined by John Ellis in this new book.At the national level, southern congressional leaders fought to establish a strong federal health agency, but they were defeated by the young American Public Health Association, which defended states' rights. Local responses and results were mixed. In New Orleans, business and professional men, reacting to the denunciation of the city as the nation's pesthole, organized in 1879 to improve drainage, garbage disposal, and water supplies through voluntary subscription. Their achievements were of necessity modest.In Memphis--the city hardest hit by the epidemic--a new municipal government in 1879 helped form the first regional health organization and during the 1880s led the nation in sanitary improvements. In Atlanta, though it largely escaped the epidemic, the Constitution and some citizens called for health reform. Ironically their voices were drowned out by ritual invocation of local health mythology and by unabashed exploitation of the stigma of pestilence attached to New Orleans and Memphis. By 1890 Atlanta rivaled Charleston and Richmond for primacy in black mortality rates.That the public health movement met with only limited success Ellis attributes to the prevailing atmosphere of opportunistic greed, overwhelming debt, economic instability, and inordinate political corruption. But the effort to combat a terrifying disease not fully understood did eventually produce changes and the vastly improved health systems of today.

J. Saunders Redding (1906−1988) was often and justifiably called "the dean of African American scholars." As professor and man of letters, he wrote about African American literature and culture in vivid and scholarly prose. And of all the writers of his generation, he best represented, and came closest to explaining, the hopes and conflicts of American democracy in a multiracial society. Yet his perceptions and writings were never limited to race, nationality, academia, or one literary genre.In this first published anthology drawn from Redding's books, essays, and speeches, Faith Berry has compiled representative selections from every period and genre in which Redding wrote: autobiography, fiction, biography, history, journalism, travelogue, and literary criticism. The collection offers a wide range of his thought and criticism from numerous publications, as well as a comprehensive bibliography of his works.Redding is essential reading for all those who argue for or against the intellectual credo he espoused: that African American writing and culture be studied in the context of American life and culture, not in insolation.This useful and balanced edition of Redding's writing should serve to introduce him to a new audience certain to find his texts worthy of attention and discussion. Readers concerned with literary and social history, higher education, race relations, American and ethnic studies, foreign affairs, cultural exchange -- or indeed the humanities in general -- will find this work an important resource. Contemporary African American scholars will value the book as a lasting reference. And anyone unfamiliar with Redding's work will discover and appreciate the breadth of his contributions to scholarship and literature.

Super Tuesday 1988 was the first successful attempt to get several states in one region to hold their presidential primaries on the same day. Its success -- or lack thereof -- will affect the way presidents are elected for many years to come.Reaching beyond Super Tuesday and the nominations of George Bush and Michael Dukakis, Barbara Norrander's book presents the nation's first regional primary as the latest chapter in the ever-changing system through which U. S. political parties choose their presidential candidates. Norrander's research details how changes in technology, candidate and media strategies, and historical circumstances have influenced recent presidential nominations and how they set the stage for the South's primary in 1988.Super Tuesday: Regional Politics and Presidential Primaries emerges as an authoritative source not only on Super Tuesday but on many other aspects of presidential nominations. This book demonstrates that much of current conventional wisdom about presidential nominations is wrong.Norrander traces candidate strategies from 1976 to 1988 and calculates turnout rates from 1960 to 1988. She also examines the composition of the Super Tuesday electorate with respect both to preconceived notions of who participates in presidential primaries and to deliberate attempts by the Democratic and Republican parties to manipulate voter turnout in the South's regional primary. Her analysis of the timing and process of nomination victories from 1976 to 1988 emphasizes the importance of the overlooked role of candidate attrition over candidate momentum.Of special interest to political scientists -- and to political observers -- concerned with parties, elections, and voting behavior, Norrander's book will reshape the examination of presidential contests in 1992 and beyond.

"The only excellence of falsehood..

D.H. Melhem's clear introductions and frank interviews provide insight into the contemporary social and political consciousness of six acclaimed poets: Amiri Baraka, Gwendolyn Brooks, Jayne Cortez, Haki R. Madhubuti, Dudley Randall, and Sonia Sanchez. Since the 1960s, the poet hero has characterized a significant segment of Black American poetry. The six poets interviewed here have participated in and shaped the vanguard of this movement. Their poetry reflects the critical alternatives of African American life -- separatism and integration, feminism and sexual identity, religion and spirituality, humanism and Marxism, nationalism and internationalism. They unite in their commitment to Black solidarity and advancement.

Here are three tragedies from early Kentucky history: the defeat of a small army of Kentuckians by Indians at Blue Licks in 1782, the murder of a slave by two of Thomas Jefferson's nephews in western Kentucky in 1807, and the bizarre Beauchamp-Sharp murder in Frankfort in 1825. Taylor mixes history with good storytelling and a look at how human shortcomings sometimes lead to ruin.

In 1976 -- the bicentennial year -- Robert Penn Warren told Bill Moyers that he was "in love with America" but his love for the nation was more often than not troubled and angry. Warren once remarked that "any intelligent person is inclined to criticize his country more strongly than he will criticize anything else. And he should It's a way of criticizing himself, too. ... Trying to live more intelligently, and more fully." In The American Vision of Robert Penn Warren, a noted Warren scholar traces the evolution of our first poet laureate's distinctive stance toward the American experiment in democracy, showing how Warren sought to balance off the claims of self and society in the New World.This book surveys the full six decades of Warren's career, combining close reading with a historian's eye for social and political context. While pointedly avoiding the reductive pitfalls of the "new historicism," Clark documents the informing role the Great Depression played in shaping Warren's attitudes toward art and politics, and he demonstrates the necessity of regarding Warren's major achievements in fiction and verse as forms of "public speech." Read in this light, Warren's vision offers a set of possibilities for renego¬tiating America's covenant with its Founders on new and pragmatic terms.Based solidly on the best previous commentary on Warren and his work, Clark's study represents a new approach to its subject and incorporates insights and information garnered from the Warren Papers at Yale. A wide-ranging account of the interplay between an author's imagination and contemporary history, this book should prove of interest to all students of American culture, especially those concerned with the interrelationships of literature, politics, and ideology. Written in a lively and direct style, it will appeal to specialists and general readers alike.

In Singing the Glory Down, William Lynwood Montell contributes to a fuller understanding of twentieth-century American culture by examining the complex relationships between gospel music and the culture of the nineteen-county study area in which this music has flourished for a hundred years. He has recorded the memories and feelings of those who were young while the movement gathered steam and who remember it at its high point, and stories about those who have passed over that river about which they loved to sing.In the early 1900s, a singing school or gospel convention was a major social event that enticed people to walk for miles to learn to sing or to hear someone who already had. The shape-note teachers of those days conducted days or even weeks of nightly practice, which culminated in a performance that confirmed the teacher's skill. Quartet music originated in these settings.Today, some area quartets still sound much like those early groups; others teach themselves to sing by imitating their favorite professional gospel ensembles.They travel every weekend in buses emblazoned with the names of their groups, with tapes and albums to sell. Through all the changes, the four-part southern harmony of Kentucky gospel music has remained the same.In the words of these performers, through letters, diaries, and interviews, Montell details the attitudes and joys of those involved most deeply in the gospel music scene. He also brings the reader into their personal relationships, their professional jealousies, and their struggles to keep alive the music they love.

Few men have been more important to the life of Kentucky than three of those who governed it between 1930 and 1963 -- Albert B. Chandler, Earle C. Clements, and Bert T. Combs. While reams of newspaper copy have been written about them, the historical record offers little to mark their roles in the drama of Kentucky and the nation. In this authoritative and sometimes intimate view of Bluegrass State politics and government at ground level, John Ed Pearce -- one of Kentucky's favorite writers -- helps fill this gap.In half a century as a close observer of Kentucky politics -- as reporter, editorial writer, and columnist for the Louisville Courier-Journal -- Pearce has seen the full spectacle. He watched "Happy" Chandler vault into national prominence with his flamboyant campaign style. He was shaken by Earle Clements for asking an awkward question. He joined in the laughter when a striptease artist was commissioned a Kentucky Colonel during the Combs administration. And he watched as the successive governors struggled to move the state forward, each in his own way.Yet this is more than a newsman's account of events. Pearce probes for the roots of the troubles that have slowed Kentucky's progress. He traces the divisions that have plagued the state for almost two centuries, divisions springing from the nature of Kentucky's beginnings. He studies the lack of leadership that has hampered the always dominant Democratic party and the bitter factionalism that has kept the party from developing a cohesive philosophy. When the candidate of one faction has taken office, he shows, the losing faction has usually made political hay by bolting to the opposition party or torpedoing the governor's efforts in the legislature instead of uniting behind a progressive party program. The outcome of such long-term factionalism is a state that must now run fast to catch up.

After keeping school for six years at the forks of Troublesome Creek in the Kentucky hills, James Still moved to a century-old log house between the waters of Wolfpen Creek and Dead Mare Branch, on Little Carr Creek, and became "the man in the bushes" to his curious neighbors. Still joined the life of the scattered community. He raised his own food, preserved fruits and vegetables for the winter, and kept two stands of bees for honey. A neighbor remarked of Still, "He's left a good job, and come over in here and sot down."Still did sit down and write -- the classic novel River of Earth and many poems and short stories that have found their way into national publications. From the beginning, Still jotted down expressions, customs, and happenings unique to the region. After half a century those jottings filled twenty-one notebooks. Now they have been brought together in The Wolfpen Notebooks, together with an interview with Still, a glossary, a comprehensive bibliography of his work by William Terrell Cornett, and examples of Still's use of the "sayings" in poetry and prose. The "sayings" represent an aspect of the Appalachian experience not previously recorded and of a time largely past.

FDR -- the wily political opportunist glowing with charismatic charm, a leader venerated and hated with equal vigor -- such is one common notion of a president elected to an unprecedented four terms. But in this first comprehensive study of Roosevelt's leadership of the Democratic party, Sean Savage reveals a different man. He contends that, far from being a mere opportunist, Roosevelt brought to the party a conscious agenda, a longterm strategy of creating a liberal Democracy that would be an enduring majority force in American politics. The roots of Roosevelt's plan for the party ran back to his experiences with New York politics in the 1920s. It was here, Savage argues, that Roosevelt first began to perceive that a pluralistic voting base and a liberal philosophy offered the best way for Democrats to contend with the established Republican organization. With the collapse of the economy in 1929 and the discrediting of Republican fiscal policy, Roosevelt was ready to carry his views to the national scene when elected president in 1932.Through his analysis of the New Deal, Savage shows how Roosevelt made use of these programs to develop a policy agenda for the Democratic party, to establish a liberal ideology, and, most important, to create a coalition of interest groups and voting blocs that would continue to sustain the party long after his death. A significant aspect of Roosevelt's leadership was his reform of the Democratic National Committee, which was designed to make the party's organization more open and participatory in setting electoral platforms and in raising financial support.Savage's exploration of Roosevelt's party leadership offers a new perspective on the New Deal era and on one of America's great presidents that will be valuable for historians and political scientists alike.

" The Spanish incursion into the New World, with its brutal destruction of indigenous peoples and their cultures and its material exploitation of much of two continents, reverberates in our history down to the present century. So contends prize-winning writer Barry Lopez in this beautifully written book. "The quest for personal possessions," he observes, "was to be, from the outset, a series of raids, irresponsible and criminal, a spree, in which an end to it was never visible. .. in which an end to it had no meaning." In this luminous essay, written five hundred years after the Spanish conquest, Lopez reexamines the attitudes that informed that event and that have underlain the entire European settlement of America. "The assumption of an imperial right conferred by God, sanctioned by the state, and enforced by the militia, the assumption that one is due wealth in North America," he writes, is apparent in the journals of people on the Oregon Trail, in the pronouncements of nineteenth-century industrialists, and in the political rhetoric of our own day. But, for Lopez, coming to grips with this terrible legacy opens new possibilities. "This violent corruption needn't define us. We can take the measure of the horror and assert that we will not be bound by it." We can "rediscover" our continent -- not as a source of income but as a home, a place in which we are to find our strength and character, and in which certain moral courtesies and obligations obtain. We can develop a philosophy of place will enable us, finally, to take up a true residence in our homeland. Here is a voice for our time.

The culminating volume in The Papers of Henry Clay begins in 1844, the year when Clay came within a hair's breadth of achieving his lifelong goal-the presidency of the United States. Volume 10 of Clay's papers, then, more than any other, reveals the Great Compromiser as a major player on the national political stage. Here are both the peak of his career and the inevitable decline. On a tour through the southern states in the spring of 1844, Clay seemed certain of gaining the Whig nomination and the national election, until a series of highly publicized letters opposing the annexation of Texas cost him crucial support in both South and North. In addition to the Texas issue, the bitter election was marked by a revival of charges of a corrupt bargain, the rise of nativism, the influence of abolitionism, and voter fraud. Democrat James K. Polk defeated Clay by a mere 38,000 popular votes, partly because of illegal ballots cast in New York City.Speaking out against the Mexican War, in which his favorite son was a casualty, the Kentuckian announced his willingness to accept the 1848 Whig nomination. But some of his closest political friends, including many Kentucky Whig leaders, believed he was unelectable and successfully supported war hero Zachary Taylor.The disconsolate Clay felt his public career was finally finished. Yet when a crisis erupted over the extension of slavery into the territories acquired from Mexico, he answered the call and returned to the United States Senate. There he introduced a series of resolutions that ultimately passed as the Compromise of 1850, the most famous of his three compromises. Clay's last years were troubled ones personally, yet he remained in the Senate until his death in 1852, continuing to warn against sectional extremism and to stress the importance of the Union-messages that went unheeded as the nation Clay had served so well moved inexorably toward separation and civil war.Publication of this book is being assisted by a grant from the National Historical Publications and Records Commission.