In this panoramic survey of urbanization in the American South from its beginnings in the colonial period through the "Sunbelt" era of today, Lawrence Larsen examines both the ways in which southern urbanization has paralleled that of other regions and the distinctive marks of "southernness" in the historical process. Larsen is the first historian to show that southern cities developed in "layers" spreading ever westward in response to the expanding transportation needs of the Cotton Kingdom. Yet in other respects, southern cities developed in much the same way as cities elsewhere in America, despite the constraints of regional, racial, and agrarian factors. And southern urbanites, far from resisting change, quickly seized upon technological innovations- most recently air conditioning- to improve the quality of urban life. Treating urbanization as an independent variable without an ideological foundation, Larsen demonstrates that focusing on the introduction of certain city services, such as sewerage and professional fire departments, enables the historian to determine points of urban progress. Larsen's landmark study provides a new perspective not only on a much ignored aspect of the history of the South but also on the relationship of the distinctive cities of the Old South to the new concept of the Sunbelt city. Carrying his story down to the present, he concludes that southern cities have gained parity with others throughout America. This important work will be of value to all students of the South as well as to urban historians.

The battlefield reputation of Confederate general Nathan Bedford Forrest, long recognized as a formidable warrior, has been shaped by one infamous wartime incident. At Fort Pillow in 1864, the attack by Confederate forces under Forrest’s command left many of the Tennessee Unionists and black soldiers garrisoned there dead in a confrontation widely labeled as a “massacre.” In The River Was Dyed with Blood, best-selling Forrest biographer Brian Steel Wills argues that although atrocities did occur after the fall of the fort, Forrest did not order or intend a systematic execution of its defenders. Rather, the general’s great failing was losing control of his troops. A prewar slave trader and owner, Forrest was a controversial figure throughout his lifetime. Because the attack on Fort Pillow—which, as Forrest wrote, left the nearby waters “dyed with blood”—occurred in an election year, Republicans used him as a convenient Confederate scapegoat to marshal support for the war. After the war he also became closely associated with the spread of the Ku Klux Klan. Consequently, the man himself, and the truth about Fort Pillow, has remained buried beneath myths, legends, popular depictions, and disputes about the events themselves. Wills sets what took place at Fort Pillow in the context of other wartime excesses from the American Revolution to World War II and Vietnam, as well as the cultural transformations brought on by the Civil War. Confederates viewed black Union soldiers as the embodiment of slave rebellion and reacted accordingly. Nevertheless, Wills concludes that the engagement was neither a massacre carried out deliberately by Forrest, as charged by a congressional committee, nor solely a northern fabrication meant to discredit him and the Confederate States of America, as pro-Southern apologists have suggested. The battle-scarred fighter with his homespun aphorisms was neither an infallible warrior nor a heartless butcher, but a product of his time and his heritage.

In Volunteer Forty-Niners, Walter T. Durham provides the first comprehensive examination of the role Tennessee and Tennesseans played in creating a new state and a new society on the West Coast. Drawing from such archival sources as personal narratives in letters and diaries, public records, and newspaper reports, Durham has woven a wealth of information into his recounting of their adventures.

Standard narratives of early twentieth-century African American history credit the Great Migration of southern blacks to northern metropolises for the emergence of the New Negro, an educated, upwardly mobile sophisticate very different from his forebears. Yet this conventional history overlooks the cultural accomplishments of an earlier generation, in the black communities that flourished within southern cities immediately after Reconstruction. In this groundbreaking historical study, Gabriel A. Briggs makes the compelling case that the New Negro first emerged long before the Great Migration to the North. The New Negro in the Old South reconstructs the vibrant black community that developed in Nashville after the Civil War, demonstrating how it played a pivotal role in shaping the economic, intellectual, social, and political lives of African Americans in subsequent decades. Drawing from extensive archival research, Briggs investigates what made Nashville so unique and reveals how it served as a formative environment for major black intellectuals like Sutton Griggs and W.E.B. Du Bois. The New Negro in the Old South makes the past come alive as it vividly recounts little-remembered episodes in black history, from the migration of Colored Infantry veterans in the late 1860s to the Fisk University protests of 1925. Along the way, it gives readers a new appreciation for the sophistication, determination, and bravery of African Americans in the decades between the Civil War and the Harlem Renaissance.

S. Doc. 103-34. Compiled by Jo Anne McCormick Quatannens, Diane B. Boyle, editorial assistant, prepared under the direction of Kelly D. Johnston, Secretary of the Senate. Lists scholarly works that profile the lives and legislative service of senators and their autobiographies and other published works.

This study of the importance of the little-known Civil War battle is “a well written, thoroughly researched, amply illustrated, and engaging story” (Civil War Courier). The name Johnsonville doesn’t mean much to most students of the Civil War. Its contribution to Union victory in the Western Theater, however, is difficult to overstate, and its history is complex, fascinating, and until now, mostly untold. Now Jerry T. Wooten, Ph.D., a former Park Manager at Johnsonville State Historic Park, has unearthed a wealth of new material that sheds light on the creation and strategic role of the Union supply depot, the use of railroads and logistics, and the depot’s defense. His study covers the emergence of a civilian town around the depot, and the role all of this played in making possible the Union victories with which we are all familiar. This sterling monograph also includes the best and most detailed account of the Battle of Johnsonville. The fighting took place on the heels of one of the most audacious campaigns of the war, when Confederate Maj. Gen. Nathan Bedford Forrest led his cavalry through western Tennessee and Kentucky on a 25-day campaign. On November 4–5, 1864, Forrest’s troops attacked the depot and shelled the town, destroying tons of valuable supplies. The complex land-water operation nearly wiped out the Johnsonville supply depot, severely disrupted Gen. George Thomas’s army in Nashville, and impeded his operations against John Bell Hood’s Confederate army. Prior works on Johnsonville focus on Forrest’s operations, but Wooten’s deep original archival research reveals significantly more on that battle, as well as what life was like in and around the area for both military men and civilians.

Davy Crockett has been America's best-known folk hero for at least 160 years. This informed biography by James Atkins Shackford first appeared in 1956, at the height of the television-inspired Crockett craze. As Michael Lofaro notes in his introduction, "Shackford faced the monumental task of rescuing a nearly unknown David Crockett from the obscurity caused by the popularity of the earlier legendary Davys and deepened by Disney." He succeeded memorably, restoring David Crockett of Tennessee, a true pioneer and colorful figure even without romantic trappings.

In the immediate aftermath of the armistice that ended the First World War, the Allied nations of Britain, France, and Italy agreed to put the fallen German Emperor Kaiser Wilhelm II on trial, in what would be the first ever international criminal tribunal. In Britain, Lloyd George campaigned for re-election on the slogan 'hang the Kaiser', but the Italians had only lukewarm support for a trial, and there was outright resistance from the United States. During the Peace Conference, international lawyers gathered for the first time to debate international criminal justice. They recommended trial of the Kaiser by an international tribunal for war crimes, and the Americans relented, agreeing to a trial for a 'supreme offence against international morality'. However, the Kaiser had fled to the Netherlands where he obtained asylum, and though the Allies threatened a range of measures if the former Emperor was not surrendered, the Dutch refused and the demands were dropped in March 1920. This book, from renowned legal scholar William A. Schabas, sheds light on perhaps the most important international trial that never was. Schabas draws on numerous primary sources hitherto unexamined in published work, including transcripts which vividly illuminate this period of international law making. As such, he has written a book which constitutes a history of the very beginnings of international criminal justice, a history which has never before been fully told.