Published in 1951, College Life at Old Oglethorpe describes the origins and revival of Oglethorpe University, the first chartered denominational school of higher education in Georgia. Oglethorpe University was established in 1835 near Milledgeville and moved to Atlanta in 1870-1872 due in part to economic pressures resulting from the Civil War. Allen P. Tankersley examines college life in the antebellum South, focusing on the students' interests and activities. The university's faculty were dedicated to the union of education and religion, and students studied to be ministers and leaders in medicine, politics, science, and education.
First published in 1962, this book remains one of the most significant works on the history of higher education in America. Bridging the chasm between educational and social history, it was one of the first to examine developments in higher education in the context of the social, economic, and political forces that were shaping the nation at large. Surveying higher education from the colonial era through the mid-20th century, Rudolph explores a multitude of issues from the financing of institutions and the development of curriculum to the education of women and blacks, the rise of college athletics, and the complexities of student life. In his foreword to this edition, John R. Thelin assesses the impact Rudolph’s work has had on higher education studies. The edition also includes a bibliographic essay by Thelin covering significant works in the field that have appeared since the publication of the first edition. “[A]n excellent book... a scholarly book, but one easy to read and always interesting.” — Francis Horn, The New York Times Book Review “A tour de force... The general reader as well as the historian of education will find in it the interesting story of America’s academic life, told with truth and originality” — Saturday Review “[An] important and widely celebrated book... it collects an enormous number of disparate sources... and weaves them into a history of American colleges and universities that is useful, even today, to both the scholar and the general reader... an exceptionally comprehensive book... it traces some three hundred years of the history of American colleges and universities from the 1636 founding of Harvard well into the twentieth century.” — David S. Webster, The Review of Higher Education “[Rudolph] has skillfully organized the results of his comprehensive research; he has a flair for catching the attention with a colorful incident or a memorable quotation; and he writes with a sprightly yet authoritative style. The result is an exceptionally readable account that the scholar will find a profitable addition to his library. The book should appeal, too, to the general reader with a non-professional interest in American higher education, and in how it developed, and why.” — David Madsen, History of Education Quarterly “The American College and University... covers an amazing amount of ground in less than 500 pages of text... a significant contribution.” — Russell E. Miller, American Association of University Professors Bulletin “[A] first-rate contribution to the all-too-meager written history of American education and an example of institutional history at its best.” — Theodore R. Sizer, The New England Quarterly “Frederick Rudolph has chosen to create a vast design stretched across the canvas of several centuries and a broad continent, woven against the military, political, and economic tapestry of a new people creating a new way of life... He has more than succeeded. Covering both minute detail and sweeping developments, Mr. Rudolph makes a significant contribution to historical research by relating the growth of higher education to the totality of the American scene. At the same time he has produced a readable literary effort — set apart from books for popular consumption not by its style, which is well paced and clear, but by its depth of documentation... Rudolph writes with the skill of the novelist in keeping his narrative alive.” — Kenneth R. Williams, The Florida Historical Quarterly “This is a superb account of American higher education from colonial times to the present... The major developments are here, all in perspective, and treated in such a way as to please readers who value clarity, insight, proportion, quiet humor, and literary grace.” — Irwin G. Wyllie, The Business History Review “The American College and University is felicitous writing, eminently readable and frequently entertaining... Rudolph's work makes a significant contribution to educational history and will repay conscientious study.” — Saul Sack, The Pennsylvania Magazine of History and Biography “[Rudolph's book] bears the marks of sound scholarship, and it is written with clarity and urbanity. It will be read with interest by academics and laymen and will probably remain the best one-volume history of its subject for many years.” — Frederick H. Jackson, The Mississippi Valley Historical Review “[T]his is a very capable history of the American college and university and is delightfully written... Both layman and historian can read this book with great profit and great enjoyment.” — Philip Davidson, The Journal of Southern History “[V]ery readable and at times absorbing... [an] illuminating history of the American college.” — Leonard F. Bacigalupo, The Catholic Historical Review “A carefully documented, well-indexed, and, to cap it, entertaining work leaving little doubt that the history of American higher education must be the most delightful story since the beginning of universities in medieval Europe.” — American Behavioral Scientist
A powerful confluence of youthful energies and entrenched codes of honor enlivens Robert F. Pace's look at the world of male student college life in the antebellum South. Through extensive research into records, letters, and diaries of students and faculty from more than twenty institutions, Pace creates a vivid portrait of adolescent rebelliousness struggling with the ethic to cultivate a public face of industry, respect, and honesty. These future leaders confronted authority figures, made friends, studied, courted, frolicked, drank, gambled, cheated, and dueled -- all within the established traditions of their southern culture. For the sons of southern gentry, college life presented a variety of challenges, including engaging with northern professors and adjusting to living away from home and family. The young men extended the usual view of higher education as a bridge between childhood and adulthood, innovatively creating their own world of honor that prepared them for living in the larger southern society. Failure to obtain a good education was a grievous breach of honor for them, and Pace skillfully weaves together stories of student antics, trials, and triumphs within the broader male ethos of the Old South. When the Civil War erupted, many students left campus to become soldiers, defend their families, and preserve a way of life. By war's end, the code of honor had waned, changing the culture of southern colleges and universities forever. Halls of Honor represents a significant update of E. Merton Coulter's 1928 classic work, College Life in the Old South, which focused on the University of Georgia. Pace's lively study will widen the discussion of antebellum southern college life for decades to come.
In this ambitious book, Kenneth Wheeler revises our understanding of the nineteenth-century American Midwest by reconsidering an institution that was pivotal in its making—the small college. During the antebellum decades, Americans built a remarkable number of colleges in the Midwest that would help cultivate their regional identity. Through higher education, the values of people living north and west of the Ohio River formed the basis of a new Midwestern culture. Cultivating Regionalism shows how college founders built robust institutions of higher learning in this socially and ethnically diverse milieu. Contrary to conventional wisdom, these colleges were much different than their counterparts in the East and South—not derivative of them as many historians suggest. Manual labor programs, for instance, nurtured a Midwestern zeal for connecting mind and body. And the coeducation of men and women at these schools exploded gender norms throughout the region. Students emerging from these colleges would ultimately shape the ethos of the Progressive era and in large numbers take up scientific investigation as an expression of their egalitarian, production-oriented training. More than a history of these antebellum schools, this elegantly conceived work exposes the interplay in regionalism between thought and action—who antebellum Midwesterners imagined they were and how they built their colleges in distinct ways.
"Atlanta and Environs" is, in every way, an exhaustive history of the Atlanta Area from the time of its settlement in the 1820s through the 1970s. Volumes I and II, together more than two thousand pages in length, represent a quarter century of research by their author, Franklin M. Garrett--a man called "a walking encyclopedia on Atlanta history" by the "Atlanta Journal-Constitution." With the publication of Volume III, by Harold H. Martin, this chronicle of the South's most vibrant city incorporates the spectacular growth and enterprise that have characterized Atlanta in recent decades. The work is arranged chronologically, with a section devoted to each decade, a chapter to each year. Volume I covers the history of Atlanta and its people up to 1880--ranging from the city's founding as "Terminus" through its Civil War destruction and subsequent phoenixlike rebirth. Volume II details Atlanta's development from 1880 through the 1930s--including occurrences of such diversity as the development of the Coca-Cola Company and the Atlanta premiere of Gone with the Wind. Taking up the city's fortunes in the 1940s, Volume III spans the years of Atlanta's greatest growth. Tracing the rise of new building on the downtown skyline and the construction of Hartsfield International Airport on the city's perimeter, covering the politics at City Hall and the box scores of Atlanta's new baseball team, recounting the changing terms of race relations and the city's growing support of the arts, the last volume of "Atlanta and Environs" documents the maturation of the South's preeminent city.
Spanning nearly a century, the letters in this collection revolve around a central event in the history of a southern family: the death of the eldest son owing to sickness contracted during service in the Confederate Army. The letters reveal a slaveowning family with keen interests in art, music, and nature and an unshakable belief in their religion and in the Confederate cause. William Seagrove Smith was a private in the signal corps of the Eighteenth Battalion, Georgia Infantry. Smith was part of the force defending Savannah until it fell in late 1864, and then marched with General William J. Hardee in his famous retreat out of the city and through the Carolinas. Like so many other soldiers on both sides of the conflict, William Smith fell not at the hands of an enemy but from disease. He died in Raleigh, North Carolina, on July 7, 1865. A parallel and complementary story about William's younger brother, Archibald, also emerges in the letters. As a cadet at Georgia Military Institute, Archibald was (as his parents fervently wished) exempt from service; however, he ultimately saw--and survived--action before the war's end. Scattered among the many lines in the letters that are devoted to the two brothers are a wealth of particulars about agricultural, industrial, and social life in the family's north Georgia community of Roswell, the Smith family's flight from Sherman's invasion force, their lives as refugees in south Georgia, and a final reunion of the Smith brothers outside of Savannah just after the city's fall. Also included are a number of moving exchanges between the Smiths and the family that cared for William in his final days. A brief history of the Smith family through 1863 begins the correspondence, while the letters following the war reveal their fortitude in the face of William's death and the hardships of Reconstruction. The volume concludes with selected letters from the subsequent generation of Smiths, who conjure images of the Old South and revive the memory of William. Like the most distinguished Civil War-era letter collections, The Death of a Confederate introduces a personal dimension to its story that is often lost in histories of this sweeping event.
Both the North and the South viewed the Civil War in Christian terms. Each side believed that its fight was just, that God favored its cause. Rebuilding Zion is the first study to explore simultaneously the reaction of southern white evangelicals, northern white evangelicals, and Christian freedpeople to Confederate defeat. As white southerners struggled to assure themselves that the collapse of the Confederacy was not an indication of God's stern judgment, white northerners and freedpeople were certain that it was. Author Daniel W. Stowell tells the story of the religious reconstruction of the South following the war, a bitter contest between southern and northern evangelicals, at the heart of which was the fate of the freedpeople's souls and the southern effort to maintain a sense of sectional identity. Central to the southern churches' vision of the Civil War was the idea that God had not abandoned the South; defeat was a Father's stern chastisement. Secession and slavery had not been sinful; rather, it was the radicalism of the northern denominations that threatened the purity of the Gospel. Northern evangelicals, armed with a vastly different vision of the meaning of the war and their call to Christian duty, entered the post-war South intending to save white southerner and ex-slave alike. The freedpeople, however, drew their own providential meaning from the war and its outcome. The goal for blacks in the postwar period was to establish churches for themselves separate from the control of their former masters. Stowell plots the conflicts that resulted from these competing visions of the religious reconstruction of the South. By demonstrating how the southern vision eventually came to predominate over, but not eradicate, the northern and freedpeople's visions for the religious life of the South, he shows how the southern churches became one of the principal bulwarks of the New South, a region marked by intense piety and intense racism throughout the twentieth century.
