The contents of this book include chapters on "Horse Thieves and Other Charming People, 1754-1823"; "Liars, 1810-1938" - the Georgia Land Lottery Fraud Papers; "Convicts, 1817-1850" - Convict Records; "Murders, Murderers and Murder Victims, 1823-1969" - from Governor's Proclamations (issued for offering rewards for killers who had fled justice), 1823-1900; "Convicts, 1851-1871" - which includes prison, number or name and aliases, date entered prison and county in which convicted; "Insane Asylum Inmates, 1853-1870" - which includes the person's number, name and county of residence and when admitted; "Principal Keeper's Reports, 1866-1873, Lists of Convicts to Fill Gaps in (the chapter on Convicts, 1851-1871)"; "Racial Incidents, 1865-1868" - reports of racial violence against blacks in Reconstruction Georgia; "Central register of Convicts, 1867-1879" - this continues the earlier chapters on Murders, Murderers, and Murder Victims; "More Murders, Murderers, and Murder Victims, 1869-1900" - a continuation of the earlier chapter on this subject; "Central register of Convicts, 1872-1897" - a continuation of a listing of convicts... and "Other Sources Equally Disgusting". This volume contains the names of over 13,500 persons.

The eleven essays in this collection explore the variety of ways in which whites and blacks in Georgia interacted from the end of the Civil War to the dawn of the civil rights movement. They reveal the extent to which racial matters infused politics, religion, education, gender relationships, kinship structure, and community dynamics. In their focus on a broad range of individuals, incidents, and locales, the essays look beyond the obvious injustices of the color line to examine the intricacies, ambiguities, contradictions, and above all, the human dimension that made that line far less rigid or absolute than is often assumed. The stories told here offer new insights into, and provocative interpretations of, the actions and reactions of the men and women, black and white, engaged on both sides of the struggle for racial justice and reform. They provide vivid testimony to the complexity and diversity that have always characterized southern race relations.

"[A] vital investigation of Forsyth’s history, and of the process by which racial injustice is perpetuated in America." —U.S. Congressman John Lewis Forsyth County, Georgia, at the turn of the twentieth century, was home to a large African American community that included ministers and teachers, farmers and field hands, tradesmen, servants, and children. But then in September of 1912, three young black laborers were accused of raping and murdering a white girl. One man was dragged from a jail cell and lynched on the town square, two teenagers were hung after a one-day trial, and soon bands of white “night riders” launched a coordinated campaign of arson and terror, driving all 1,098 black citizens out of the county. The charred ruins of homes and churches disappeared into the weeds, until the people and places of black Forsyth were forgotten. National Book Award finalist Patrick Phillips tells Forsyth’s tragic story in vivid detail and traces its long history of racial violence all the way back to antebellum Georgia. Recalling his own childhood in the 1970s and ’80s, Phillips sheds light on the communal crimes of his hometown and the violent means by which locals kept Forsyth “all white” well into the 1990s. In precise, vivid prose, Blood at the Root delivers a "vital investigation of Forsyth’s history, and of the process by which racial injustice is perpetuated in America" (Congressman John Lewis).

Chronicles the black experience in Georgia from the early 1500s to the present, exploring the contradictions of life in a state that was home to both the KKK and the civil rights movement.

"This is the best treatment scholars have of black life in a southern state at the beginning of the twentieth century." -- Howard N. Rabinowitz, Journal of American History "The author shows clearly and forcefully the ways in which this [white] system abused and controlled the black lower caste in Georgia." -- Lester C. Lamon, American Historical Review. "Dittmer has a faculty for lucid exposition of complicated subjects. This is especially true of the sections on segregation, racial politics, disfranchisement, woman's suffrage and prohitibion, the neo-slavery in agriculture, and the racial violence whose threat and reality hung like a pall over all of Georgia throughout the period." -- Donald L. Grant, Georgia Historical Quarterly.

The lush landscape and subtropical climate of the Georgia coast only enhance the air of mystery enveloping some of its inhabitants—people who owe, in some ways, as much to Africa as to America. As the ten previously unpublished essays in this volume examine various aspects of Georgia lowcountry life, they often engage a central dilemma: the region's physical and cultural remoteness helps to preserve the venerable ways of its black inhabitants, but it can also marginalize the vital place of lowcountry blacks in the Atlantic World. The essays, which range in coverage from the founding of the Georgia colony in the early 1700s through the present era, explore a range of topics, all within the larger context of the Atlantic world. Included are essays on the double-edged freedom that the American Revolution made possible to black women, the lowcountry as site of the largest gathering of African Muslims in early North America, and the coexisting worlds of Christianity and conjuring in coastal Georgia and the links (with variations) to African practices. A number of fascinating, memorable characters emerge, among them the defiant Mustapha Shaw, who felt entitled to land on Ossabaw Island and resisted its seizure by whites only to become embroiled in struggles with other blacks; Betty, the slave woman who, in the spirit of the American Revolution, presented a “list of grievances” to her master; and S'Quash, the Arabic-speaking Muslim who arrived on one of the last legal transatlantic slavers and became a head man on a North Carolina plantation. Published in association with the Georgia Humanities Council.

Winner of the John Boswell Prize from the American Historical Association 2018 Winner of the William Sanders Scarborough Prize from the Modern Language Association 2018 Winner of an American Library Association Stonewall Honor 2018 Winner of Lambda Literary Award for Transgender Nonfiction 2018 Winner of the Sylvia Rivera Award in Transgender Studies from the Center for Lesbian and Gay Studies The story of Christine Jorgensen, America’s first prominent transsexual, famously narrated trans embodiment in the postwar era. Her celebrity, however, has obscured other mid-century trans narratives—ones lived by African Americans such as Lucy Hicks Anderson and James McHarris. Their erasure from trans history masks the profound ways race has figured prominently in the construction and representation of transgender subjects. In Black on Both Sides, C. Riley Snorton identifies multiple intersections between blackness and transness from the mid-nineteenth century to present-day anti-black and anti-trans legislation and violence. Drawing on a deep and varied archive of materials—early sexological texts, fugitive slave narratives, Afro-modernist literature, sensationalist journalism, Hollywood films—Snorton attends to how slavery and the production of racialized gender provided the foundations for an understanding of gender as mutable. In tracing the twinned genealogies of blackness and transness, Snorton follows multiple trajectories, from the medical experiments conducted on enslaved black women by J. Marion Sims, the “father of American gynecology,” to the negation of blackness that makes transnormativity possible. Revealing instances of personal sovereignty among blacks living in the antebellum North that were mapped in terms of “cross dressing” and canonical black literary works that express black men’s access to the “female within,” Black on Both Sides concludes with a reading of the fate of Phillip DeVine, who was murdered alongside Brandon Teena in 1993, a fact omitted from the film Boys Don’t Cry out of narrative convenience. Reconstructing these theoretical and historical trajectories furthers our imaginative capacities to conceive more livable black and trans worlds.