King Charles I of England granted the Calvert Family a charter for the Colony of Maryland in 1632. Forty-nine years later, in 1681, Charles II awarded the Penn Family a similar charter for Pennsylvania. However, the ambiguity of the language and lack of precision in both grants sowed the seeds of dispute over a sixty-nine mile parcel of land between the 39th and 40th degrees of North Latitude. Had the Calverts prevailed, part of the City of Philadelphia would now be in Maryland, and had the Penns succeeded Baltimore would today be in the state of Pennsylvania! Arguments between the opposing parties dragged on for more than half a century before the English Courts finally issued a decree: Neither the Calverts nor the Penns would prevail; the border between Maryland and Pennsylvania would be a line of latitude located fifteen miles due south of the most southern point in the city of Philadelphia. As a result, in 1763 two British mathematicians and surveyors-Charles Mason and Jeremiah Dixon-were commissioned to accurately survey and mark the 244- mile boundary between the two colonies.We all have referred to the resulting Mason Dixon Line in casual conversation as the line that divides Pennsylvania and Maryland, or perhaps as the line between the free and slave states during the Civil War. But what do we actually know about Charles Mason and Jeremiah Dixon, and why is an imaginary line named after them? Author Jack Layton decided to find out. Over the course of several years he literally walked the line, recording his observations and taking revealing photographs along the entire route. The results-informative, entertaining, ironic and amusing-form the heart of this book. Luckily for us, Charles Mason was a meticulous man who kept a detailed journal of his remarkable experiences in the New World. Mr. Layton used his daily record, kept during the three years that he and his partner spent traipsing through the mountains and valleys of America, as the backbone for this book, with liberal use of direct quotations. Amazingly, some of what the men saw and described has not changed much in the intervening two-and-a-half centuries, while other sights would not be recognizable at all today. Enjoy a trip back to colonial America. Join Jack Layton as he takes a walk in the footsteps of history, following the path blazed by two men whose names and the boundary they surveyed are today a household word-the Mason Dixon Line!

The award-winning author of Secrets of a Civil War Submarine traces the history of the Mason-Dixon Line as reflected by family feuds, exploration, scientific advancement and the cultural conflicts between America's northern and southern states.

If the Mason-Dixon Line could talk, here are the stories. It would tell. Pulitzerprize winning reporter and travel writer Bill Ecenbarger has walked the Mason-Dixon line - from its beginning on Fenwick Island, Delaware, to its end at Brown's Hill, Pennsylvania - diverting left and right to Interview the people who live along its border. The line was surveyed between 1763 and 1768 by Charles Mason and Jeremiah Dixon to settle a dispute between Robert Penn and Lord Calvert, whose family owned what is now the state of Maryland. In 1780, Pennsylvania passed a law to abolish slavery, making the Mason-Dixon Line the divider between free and slave states. From that moment, it also became a lightning rod for racial conflict that continues to this day. This unique history/travelogue examines the influence of this great divider, which remains the most powerful symbol separating Yankee from Rebel, oatmeal from grits, North from South.

"A novel that is as moving as it is cerebral, as poignant as it is daring." - Michiko Kakutani, The New York Times "Mason & Dixon - like Huckleberry Finn, like Ulysses - is one of the great novels about male friendship in anybody's literature." - John Leonard, The Nation Charles Mason (1728–1786) and Jeremiah Dixon (1733–1779) were the British surveyors best remembered for running the boundary between Pennsylvania and Maryland that we know today as the Mason-Dixon Line. Here is their story as reimagined by Thomas Pynchon, featuring Native Americans and frontier folk, ripped bodices, naval warfare, conspiracies erotic and political, major caffeine abuse. Unreflectively entangled in crimes of demarcation, Mason & Dixon take us along on a grand tour of the Enlightenment’s dark hemisphere, from their first journey together to the Cape of Good Hope, to pre-Revolutionary America and back to England, into the shadowy yet redemptive turns of their later lives, through incongruities in conscience, parallaxes of personality, tales of questionable altitude told and intimated by voices clamoring not to be lost. Along the way they encounter a plentiful cast of characters, including Benjamin Franklin, George Washington, and Samuel Johnson, as well as a Chinese feng shui master, a Swedish irredentist, a talking dog, and a robot duck. The quarrelsome, daring, mismatched pair—Mason as melancholy and Gothic as Dixon is cheerful and pre-Romantic—pursues a linear narrative of irregular lives, observing, and managing to participate in the many occasions of madness presented them by the Age of Reason.

Slavery, freedom, and kidnapping in the mid-Atlantic. This is the story of Thomas McCreary, a slave catcher from Cecil County, Maryland. Reviled by some, proclaimed a hero by others, he first drew public attention in the late 1840s for a career that peaked a few years after passage of the Fugitive Slave Act of 1850. Living and working as he did at the midpoint between Philadelphia, an important center for assisting fugitive slaves, and Baltimore, a major port in the slave trade, his story illustrates in raw detail the tensions that arose along the border between slavery and freedom just prior to the Civil War. McCreary and his community provide a framework to examine slave catching and kidnapping in the Baltimore-Wilmington-Philadelphia region and how those activities contributed to the nation’s political and visceral divide.

Late eighteenth- and early nineteenth-century landowners in the hinterlands of Baltimore, Maryland, cobbled together workforces from a diverse labor population of black and white apprentices, indentured servants, slaves, and hired workers. This book examines the intertwined lives of the poor whites, slaves, and free blacks who lived and worked in this wheat-producing region along the Mason–Dixon Line. Drawing from court records, the diaries, letters, and ledgers of farmers and small planters, and other archival sources, Max Grivno reconstructs how these poorest of southerners eked out their livings and struggled to maintain their families and their freedom in the often unforgiving rural economy.

New Yorker James Baldwin once declared that a black man can look at a map of the United States, contemplate the area south of the Mason-Dixon Line, and thus scare himself to death. In The Scary Mason-Dixon Line, renowned literary scholar Trudier Harris explores why black writers, whether born in Mississippi, New York, or elsewhere, have consistently both loved and hated the South. Harris explains that for these authors the South represents not so much a place or even a culture as a rite of passage. Not one of them can consider himself or herself a true African American writer without confronting the idea of the South in a decisive way. Harris considers native-born black southerners Raymond Andrews, Ernest J. Gaines, Edward P. Jones, Tayari Jones, Yusef Komunyakaa, Randall Kenan, and Phyllis Alesia Perry, and nonsouthern writers James Baldwin, Sherley Anne Williams, and Octavia E. Butler. The works Harris examines date from Baldwin's Blues for Mr. Charlie (1964) to Edward P. Jones's The Known World (2003). By including Komunyakaa's poems and Baldwin's play, as well as male and female authors, Harris demonstrates that the writers' preoccupation with the South cuts across lines of genre and gender. Whether their writings focus on slavery, migration from the South to the North, or violence on southern soil, and whether they celebrate the triumph of black southern heritage over repression or castigate the South for its treatment of blacks, these authors cannot escape the call of the South. Indeed, Harris asserts that creative engagement with the South represents a defining characteristic of African American writing. A singular work by one of the foremost literary scholars writing today, The Scary Mason-Dixon Line superbly demonstrates how history and memory continue to figure powerfully in African American literary creativity.

From drinking sweet tea on a beloved grandmother's porch to playing army to witnessing prejudice and violence or receiving the lash, these stories illustrate growing up in the South during the 1950s and 1960s, what it felt, tasted, and looked like through the eyes of the boys who lived it.

Here's the second entry in veteran author Claudia Mills' charming middle-grade series, which finds the lovably sardonic title character starting the fourth grade, which he's dreading: everyone in fourth grade is expected to join the school choir. And sing. In front of everyone. Mason can't think of many things he enjoys less than singing. But performing in front of other people might come close; Mason devises a foolproof plan that will keep him out of the spotlight on concert night. Of course, in the world of Mason Dixon, there is no such thing as a foolproof plan. There is only disaster.