Widely regarded as the antebellum South's foremost man of letters, William Gilmore Simms (1806-1870) wrote novels and poetry that recently have enjoyed a remarkable resurgence of interest. While scholars have previously considered Simms as primarily a poet, editor, and writer of fiction, Sean R. Busick contends that the author is more fully understood as a historian. In this fresh look at Simms and his contributions, Busick brings to light the lasting impact of the South Carolinian's efforts to comprehend American history and to preserve important pieces of the historical record. In A Sober Desire for History, Busick argues that Simms made five significant contributions to American historiography. Simms's achievements include his work as an archivist, preserving a wealth of primary source materials that probably would not exist today if not for his efforts; as a champion of accessible and well-wrought historical writing; and as an advocate for what he considered democratic history - history that recognizes individuals rather than impersonal forces as the impetus for historical events. Loyalists and women, traditionally neglected in the telling of American history. Finally, although Busick shows that Simms published historical romances, biographies, and a state history, he also made an important, lasting contribution to the writing of American history through his support and encouragement of other historians. Busick addresses, among other topics, Simms's ideas on the relationship between history and fiction, his work as a biographer, his writing of the text that would be used to teach history to generations of South Carolina schoolchildren, and his controversial 1856 Northern lecture series on South Carolina's role in the American Revolution.

On Sunday, September 9, 1739, twenty Kongolese slaves armed themselves by breaking into a storehouse near the Stono River south of Charleston, South Carolina. They killed twenty-three white colonists, joined forces with other slaves, and marched toward Spanish Florida. There they expected to find freedom. One report claims the rebels were overheard shouting, “Liberty!” Before the day ended, however, the rebellion was crushed, and afterwards many surviving rebels were executed. South Carolina rapidly responded with a comprehensive slave code. The Negro Act reinforced white power through laws meant to control the ability of slaves to communicate and congregate. It was an important model for many slaveholding colonies and states, and its tenets greatly inhibited African American access to the public sphere for years to come. The Stono Rebellion serves as a touchstone for Calling Out Liberty, an exploration of human rights in early America. Expanding upon historical analyses of this rebellion, Jack Shuler suggests a relationship between the Stono rebels and human rights discourse in early American literature. Though human rights scholars and policy makers usually offer the European Enlightenment as the source of contemporary ideas about human rights, this book repositions the sources of these important and often challenged American ideals.

Engaging approaches to the vast output of South Carolina's premier man of letters William Gilmore Simms was the best known and certainly the most accomplished writer of the mid-nineteenth-century South. His literary ascent began early, with his first book being published when he was nineteen years old and his reputation as a literary genius secured before he turned thirty. Over a career that spanned nearly forty-five years, he established himself as the American South's premier man of letters—an accomplished poet, novelist, short fiction writer, essayist, historian, dramatist, cultural journalist, biographer, and editor. In Reading William Gilmore Simms, Todd Hagstette has created an anthology of critical introductions to Simms's major publications, including those recently brought back into print by the University of South Carolina Press, offering the first ever primer compendium of the author's vast output. Simms was a Renaissance man of American letters, lauded in his time by both popular audiences and literary icons alike. Yet the author's extensive output, which includes nearly eighty published volumes, can be a barrier to his study. To create a gateway to reading and studying Simms, Hagstette has assembled thirty-eight essays by twenty-four scholars to review fifty-five Simms works. Addressing all the author's major works, the essays provide introductory information and scholarly analysis of the most crucial features of Simms's literary achievement. Arranged alphabetically by title for easy access, the book also features a topical index for more targeted inquiry into Simms's canon. Detailing the great variety and astonishing consistency of Simms's thought throughout his long career as well as examining his posthumous reconsideration, Reading William Gilmore Simms bridges the author's genius and readers' growing curiosity. The only work of its kind, this book provides an essential passport to the far-flung worlds of Simms's fecund imagination.

After the Civil War, the South was divided into five military districts occupied by Union forces. Out of these regions, a remarkable group of writers emerged. Experiencing the long-lasting ramifications of Reconstruction firsthand, many of these writers sought to translate the era's promise into practice. In fiction, newspaper journalism, and other forms of literature, authors including George Washington Cable, Albion Tourgee, Constance Fenimore Woolson, and Octave Thanet imagined a new South in which freedpeople could prosper as citizens with agency. Radically re-envisioning the role of women in the home, workforce, and marketplace, these writers also made gender a vital concern of their work. Still, working from the South, the authors were often subject to the whims of a northern literary market. Their visions of citizenship depended on their readership's deference to conventional claims of duty, labor, reputation, and property ownership. The circumstances surrounding the production and circulation of their writing blunted the full impact of the period's literary imagination and fostered a drift into the stereotypical depictions and other strictures that marked the rise of Jim Crow. Sharon D. Kennedy-Nolle blends literary history with archival research to assess the significance of Reconstruction literature as a genre. Founded on witness and dream, the pathbreaking work of its writers made an enduring, if at times contradictory, contribution to American literature and history.

Retelling 30 myths and legends of the Eastern Cherokee, this book presents the stories with important details providing a culturally authentic and historically accurate context. Background information is given within each story so the reader may avoid reliance on glossaries, endnotes, or other explanatory aids. The reader may thus experience the stories more as their original audiences would have. This approach to adapting traditional literature derives from ideas found in reader-response and translation theory and from research in cognitive psychology and sociolinguistics.

“...a fascinating and well-told story of the American Revolution in South Carolina—and of its ramifications across racial and national boundaries.” —Walter Edgar, author of South Carolina: A History "The author brings to life the challenges and opportunities that the American Revolution brought to African Americans in the South in this engaging account of a free black man's wartime experience and postwar friendship with a British officer he rescued from the battlefield." —Jim Piecuch, author of Three Peoples, One King: Loyalists, Indians, and Slaves in the Revolutionary South Until publication of this book, virtually nothing was known about Tony Small, the African American from South Carolina who helped further an existing revolutionary spirit of liberty in Ireland as much as Lafayette did in France. For the first time, Robert Black brings Small to life in a work of creative nonfiction that includes his influence upon Lord Edward Fitzgerald, the military commander in the United Irishmen’s revolution against British rule in Dublin between 1796–1798, whose life Small saved at the Battle of Eutaw Springs in 1781. Tony Small is a real person, the main character in the book. Everyone else when named in the book is also a real person, and most are black. The book records the names of over two hundred documented African Americans and creates a fictional narrative for many of them. Their voices and Small’s in Part I give fictional context to moral, social, and revolutionary realities during America’s first civil war. The appendices, notes, maps, and exhibits in Part II firmly anchor fictional detail to historically recorded facts. By bringing to light the story of remarkable figures in eighteenth-century American, Irish, Canadian, English, and French history, the book is unequaled as a record of mutual respect and devotion between two men that begins on the level battle ground at Eutaw Springs. It also creates an account of African Americans not as mere slaves or free black men and women who do manual labor, but as soldiers and patriots of the highest order to help establish the new republic.

This social history of post-Revolutionary South Carolina examines the successful reconciliation of Patriots and Loyalists. The American Revolution was a vicious civil war fought between families and neighbors. Nowhere was this truer than in South Carolina. Yet, after the Revolution, South Carolina’s victorious Patriots offered vanquished Loyalists a prompt and generous legal and social reintegration. From Revolution to Reunion investigates the way in which South Carolinians, Patriot and Loyalist, managed to reconcile their bitter differences and reunite to heal South Carolina and create a stable foundation for the new United States. Rebecca Brannon considers rituals and emotions, as well as historical memory, to produce a complex and nuanced interpretation of the reconciliation process in post-Revolutionary South Carolina, detailing how Loyalists and Patriots worked together to heal their society. She frames the process in a larger historical context by comparing South Carolina’s experience with that of other states. Brannon highlights how Loyalists apologized but also became vital contributors to the new experiment in self-government and liberty. In return, the state government reinstated almost all the Loyalists by 1784. South Carolinians succeeded in creating a generous and lasting reconciliation between former enemies, but in the process they downplayed the dangers of civil war—which may have made it easier for South Carolinians to choose that path a second time.