Named for Bernardo de Galvez and established in 1839, Galveston measures just over two hundred square miles. In early Texas history, however, it was actually the largest city in the Lone Star State, as well as a hugely important port that would become a strategic target during the Civil War. The Oleander City survived the depredations of war and flourished, a resilience it would also display in the wake of the devastating hurricane of 1900. From early cannibals and pirates to the woman suffrage movement and Nazi POWs, Galveston's amazing story continues to evolve today. Join thirteen of Texas's most noted scholars and historians as they share this remarkable island history.

Along Galveston's Gulf Coast runs a seventeen-foot-high, ten-mile-long protective barrier--a response to the nation's all-time deadliest natural disaster. The seawall remains a stoic protector more than a century later, shielding the island from much more than physical destruction. As the foundation of Seawall Boulevard, this structure created an entirely new tourism industry that buoyed the city's economy through war, the Great Depression and hurricanes. Adapting to the cultural trends and political movements that defined the past century, the seawall represents the unbreakable spirit of Galveston's resilient population and provides a fascinating glimpse into bygone times.

Galveston through the eyes of women whose lives were closely intertwined with the history of the Island.

"A collection of pieces on Galveston history"--

On September 8, 1900, a devastating hurricane destroyed most of the island city of Galveston, along with the lives of more than 6,000 men, women, and children. Today that hurricane remains the deadliest natural disaster in U.S. history. Despite this tragedy, many Galvestonians were determined to rebuild their city. An ambitious plan was developed to construct a wall against the sea, link the island to the mainland with a reliable concrete bridge, and raise the level of the city. While the grade was raised beneath them, houses were perched on stilts and residents made their way through town on elevated boardwalks. Galveston became a "city on stilts." While Galvestonians worked to rebuild the infrastructure of their city, they also continued conducting business and participating in recreational activities. Zeva B. Edworthy's photographs document the rebuilding of the port city and life around Galveston in the early 1900s.

In a 1963 novel, Edna Ferber compared the city of Galveston to Miss Havisham, the gray, mournful abandoned bride of Dickens' Great Expectations. A thriving port city in the nineteenth century, Galveston suffered catastrophe in the twentieth as a deadly hurricane and shifting economics dropped a pall over its waterfront and Victorian mansions. Originally conceived as a requiem for the faded city, The Galveston That Was (developed by the Museum of Fine Arts, Houston, and funded by Jean and Dominique de Menil) instead helped resurrect the city. Architect-author Howard Barnstone, renowned portrait photographer Henri Cartier-Bresson, and architect-photographer Ezra Stoller captured the soul of the city in The Galveston That Was and as a result, inspired a major and successful effort to restore Galveston's historic architectural treasures. Many of the buildings pictured in the book have since been restored, and the pace of demolition slowed dramatically after the book's initial publication. In 1994, Rice University Press, in collaboration with the Museum of Fine Arts, Houston, and George and Cynthia Mitchell, published an updated edition of the book. This new printing of the book, now under the Texas A&M University Press imprint, contains the text annotations and updates, plus Peter H. Brink's afterword, that were added to the 1994 edition.

A local historian recounts nearly seventy years of seduction and scandal along the Texas Gulf Coast in this lively chronicle of Galveston’s notorious past. Known today as a colorful resort destination featuring family entertainment and a thriving arts district, Galveston, Texas, was once notorious for its flourishing vice economy and infamous red-light district. Called simply “The Line,” the unassuming five blocks of Postoffice Street came alive every night with wild parties and generous offerings of love for sale. Beginning in the late nineteenth century, The Line was a stubborn mainstay of the island cityscape until it was finally shut down in the 1950s. But ridding Galveston of prostitution would prove much more difficult than putting a padlock on the front door. In Galveston’s Red Light District, Texas historian Kimber Fountain pursues the sequestered story of women who wanted to make their own rules and the city that wanted to let them.