This work has been selected by scholars as being culturally important, and is part of the knowledge base of civilization as we know it. This work was reproduced from the original artifact, and remains as true to the original work as possible. Therefore, you will see the original copyright references, library stamps (as most of these works have been housed in our most important libraries around the world), and other notations in the work. This work is in the public domain in the United States of America, and possibly other nations. Within the United States, you may freely copy and distribute this work, as no entity (individual or corporate) has a copyright on the body of the work. As a reproduction of a historical artifact, this work may contain missing or blurred pages, poor pictures, errant marks, etc. Scholars believe, and we concur, that this work is important enough to be preserved, reproduced, and made generally available to the public. We appreciate your support of the preservation process, and thank you for being an important part of keeping this knowledge alive and relevant.

The Formative Period in Alabama, 1815-1828 is a beautifully crafted history of the evolution of the state written by Thomas Perkins Abernethy in 1922. The work shows how Alabama grew out of the Mississippi Territory and discusses the economic and political development during the years just before and just after Alabama became a state. Abernethy’s story begins when Alabama existed as the eastern part of the Mississippi Territory, settled primarily by Cherokees, Choctaws, and Creeks, a few traders, and some brave but foolhardy “squatters” who thought to supplant the Indians and carve out a home for themselves and their descendants from Indian territory. Friction with the Creeks escalated into war and, with their defeat at the Battle of Horseshoe Bend, the successful move began to wrest land from the Indians for white settlement. The availability of good land, the promise of transportation of goods along the waterways, and the opening of the Federal Road brought rapid population growth to an area blessed (and cursed) with forceful leaders. Abernethy describes in detail the political maneuverings and economic strangleholds that created territorial division and turmoil in the early days of Alabama’s statehood.

This work has been selected by scholars as being culturally important, and is part of the knowledge base of civilization as we know it. This work was reproduced from the original artifact, and remains as true to the original work as possible. Therefore, you will see the original copyright references, library stamps (as most of these works have been housed in our most important libraries around the world), and other notations in the work. This work is in the public domain in the United States of America, and possibly other nations. Within the United States, you may freely copy and distribute this work, as no entity (individual or corporate) has a copyright on the body of the work.As a reproduction of a historical artifact, this work may contain missing or blurred pages, poor pictures, errant marks, etc. Scholars believe, and we concur, that this work is important enough to be preserved, reproduced, and made generally available to the public. We appreciate your support of the preservation process, and thank you for being an important part of keeping this knowledge alive and relevant.

An illustrated guidebook documenting the history and sites of the state’s origins Alabama’s territorial and early statehood years represent a crucial formative period in its past, a time in which the state both literally and figuratively took shape. The story of the remarkable changes that occurred within Alabama as it transitioned from frontier territory to a vital part of the American union in less than a quarter century is one of the most compelling in the state’s past. This history is rich with stories of charismatic leaders, rugged frontiersmen, a dramatic and pivotal war that shaped the state’s trajectory, raging political intrigue, and pervasive sectional rivalry. Many of Alabama’s modern cities, counties, and religious, educational, and governmental institutions first took shape within this time period. It also gave way to the creation of sophisticated trade and communication networks, the first large-scale cultivation of cotton, and the advent of the steamboat. Contained within this story of growth and innovation is a parallel story, the dispossession of Native groups of their lands and the forced labor of slaves, which fueled much of Alabama’s early development. Early Alabama: An Illustrated Guide to the Formative Years, 1798–1826 serves as a traveler’s guidebook with a fast-paced narrative that traces Alabama’s developmental years. Despite the great significance of this era in the state’s overall growth, these years are perhaps the least understood in all of the state’s history and have received relatively scant attention from historians. Mike Bunn has created a detailed guide—appealing to historians and the general public—for touring historic sites and structures including selected homes, churches, businesses, government buildings, battlefields, cemeteries, and museums..

Slave Country tells the tragic story of the expansion of slavery in the new United States. In the wake of the American Revolution, slavery gradually disappeared from the northern states and the importation of captive Africans was prohibited. Yet, at the same time, the country's slave population grew, new plantation crops appeared, and several new slave states joined the Union. Adam Rothman explores how slavery flourished in a new nation dedicated to the principle of equality among free men, and reveals the enormous consequences of U.S. expansion into the region that became the Deep South. Rothman maps the combination of transatlantic capitalism and American nationalism that provoked a massive forced migration of slaves into Louisiana, Alabama, and Mississippi. He tells the fascinating story of collaboration and conflict among the diverse European, African, and indigenous peoples who inhabited the Deep South during the Jeffersonian era, and who turned the region into the most dynamic slave system of the Atlantic world. Paying close attention to dramatic episodes of resistance, rebellion, and war, Rothman exposes the terrible violence that haunted the Jeffersonian vision of republican expansion across the American continent. Slave Country combines political, economic, military, and social history in an elegant narrative that illuminates the perilous relation between freedom and slavery in the early United States. This book is essential reading for anyone interested in an honest look at America's troubled past.

In the years following the War of 1812, Battle of New Orleans hero General Andrew Jackson became a power unto himself. He had earlier gained national acclaim and a military promotion upon successfully leading the West Tennessee militia in the Creek War of 1813--1814, Jackson furthered his fame in the First Seminole War in 1818, which led to his invasion of Spanish West Florida without presidential or congressional authorization and to the execution of two British subjects. In Old Hickory's War, David and Jeanne Heidler present an iconoclastic interpretation of the political, military, and ethnic complexities of Jackson's involvement in those two historic episodes. Their exciting narrative shows how the general's unpredictable behavior and determination to achieve his goals, combined with a timid administration headed by James Monroe, brought the United States to the brink of an international crisis in 1818 and sparked the longest congressional debate of the period.

"Dixie Heretic is a life-and-times biography of the minister and social reformer Renwick C. Kennedy (1900-1985), an impassioned, tortured man who strove ardently to make his white Alabama congregants 'more Christian' by acknowledging their own racism and greed, and who not only lived but chronicled carefully many of the forces culminating in the right-wing conservative movement today. As McWilliams relates, Kennedy came from 'upcountry' South Carolina, a place rife with Scotch-Irish Associate Reformed Presbyterians. They lived by biblical infallibility and a strain of individual piety and salvation focused on the hereafter. In the early 1920s, however, his ministerial studies took him to Princeton Theological Seminary. There, he encountered the 'Presbyterian Conflict' over science, fundamentalism, and the social gospel, and he emerged a radical Christian socialist. Like a few other articulate practitioners of 'Neo-orthodoxy,' young Kennedy stayed true to the literalist Bible, and the salvation and piety allegiances of his youth. But he embraced not only the Social Gospel's mandate to solve earthly problems of poverty and prejudice but many cardinal tenets of modern science, as well. To Kennedy, this posed no contradiction. In 1927 Kennedy moved to Camden, Alabama, the seat of Wilcox County, where he soon married and started a family. Meanwhile, his ministry for social change dominated his Wilcox pastorates, filled with the very people from whom he derived: the Scotch-Irish. Quietly, he came to believe that God had a mandate for him: to confront and change the behaviors and beliefs of his congregations, notably their attitudes about race and poverty. And to do this, he found, he had to attack what he considered traditionalist Christian hypocrisy - 'half Christianity,' or non-social gospel Christianity - some of which he came to see as a form of proto-fascism, if not fascism itself. He soon turned to penning confrontational short stories, many published in Christian Century and some in the New Republic and set in his fictitious 'Yaupon County.' In some of these stories he overtly revealed his allegiances as a Social Gospel Christian and as an adamant supporter of Franklin Roosevelt's Democratic party. He spared no one, not even members of his own congregation. He also abandoned his pacifism and urged US intervention in World War II: he hoped that the defeat of racial fascism abroad might somehow grow white hearts at home. Ultimately, to help eliminate 'the anti-Christ, the mad dog, Hitler,' Kennedy joined the U.S. Army. As a chaplain with the famed 102nd Evacuation Hospital, he experienced some of the most horrific chapters of the conflict - Saint Lo, the Battle of the Bulge - and arrived at Dachau a mere week after German soldiers fled. The postwar world gave Kennedy periods of optimism and hope. He returned from the war believing America might deal with its own racial issues the way it had treated Europe and Japan's. His own children grew into educated, enlightened, and thriving adults. And new developments in his professional life brought considerable increases to his family income, easing his wife's long financial insecurities. Yet these years also offered a great many frustrations. Even by 1948 he knew his Social Gospel hopes about racism, fascism, and white entitlement, especially among his fellow Scotch-Irish, were naïve at best. The rise of the Dixiecrat movement (a key Dixiecrat leader, Alabama State senator J. Miller Bonner, was a member of his own congregation), only deepened his sense of personal defeat. Even so, the rise of the civil rights movement in the 1950s and 1960s and occasional developments in state and national politics rekindled at least some of his old Neo-orthodox hope and drive. He played a significant role in desegregating Troy State University, for instance, but the gratifications of even small victories proved fleeting, dashed by the assassinations of Dr. King, JFK, and RFK, and the growing numbers of southern white Republicans and Wallaceites. In Kennedy's increasing 'down' times he was privately the self-professed 'Christian and a Democrat' seeing national Republicans as 'sinners' for their growing embrace of white southern racial conservatives. A long-term 'functional alcoholic,' this privately persistent Neo-orthodox Christian never ceased agonizing over the growing 'half-Christianity' around him. Indeed, he died worrying about what it portended for the role of white supremist, proto-fascists in modern America, aware of having made few inroads on God's mandate and what he considered white Christian wrongs in Alabama. While Renwick Kennedy was front-loaded for the failure he indeed found, still - in the values and social norms he pondered and challenged at every stage of his life, and today so badly in need of recommitment - he stands as a 'good' citizen, a non-hypocritical Christian, and an emblem of hope"--