Book Reviews
Letters of Delegates to Congress,
1774-1789. Volume 16: September 1,
1780-February 28, 1781. Edited by Paul H. Smith, Gerard W. Gawalt, and
Ronald M. Gephart. (Washington, D.C.:
Library of Congress, 1989. xxix +
804p.; editorial method and apparatus,
acknowledgments, chronology of
Congress, list of delegates to Congress,
illustrations, notes, index, $38.00.)
In commenting upon several of the other
volumes in this series, this reviewer
has made a number of points that could
well be repeated here. These volumes
are superbly edited, they are highly
usable as reference works, and they are
destined to be of enduring value long
after the Bicentennial Era is over.
Moreover, there is much in this volume,
as in the previous ones, that could
be used to humanize our colorful cast of characters and
the pageant in which
they played their important roles.
Indeed, should the widely acclaimed Ken
Burns decide at some future point to do
a PBS video on the American
Revolution, perhaps something comparable
to his often gripping and haunting-
ly beautiful 1990 miniseries on the
Civil War, he would encounter a wealth of
material here that is suitable for
transformation into a fine, fine script.
Admittedly, in many cases, the dramatis
personae of Volume 16 continue to be
reluctant delegates, flesh-and-blood
human beings who are understandably
torn between a compelling sense of
obligation to serve the public on the one
hand and an unquenchable desire to be
back home with their own families and
friends on the other. Most of them try hard to function
effectively in these often
distressing times, but as mere mortals
they themselves are hardly immune from
such common foibles as vanity, jealousy,
and backbiting. The infant nation's
life may be hanging in the balance; but
still these men who will one day be
lauded as peerless Founding Fathers now
display a certain very human
tendency to be caught up in gossip,
speculation, and intrigue. To make matters
even worse, on many occasions they are
enveloped in a misty and profound
ignorance as to what is really going on
out there in the field of battle-or
anywhere in the world beyond the
confines of Philadelphia, for that matter.
And the money problems, both of the men
themselves and of the republic they
seek to serve, are seemingly endless and
are nearly always threatening to
overwhelm.
Money is an especially important theme
in this particular volume. From one
end of this book to the other, there is
a veritable chorus of voices singing the
same song: "The Situation of our
Finnances yet remains distressing, and
seems the true Cause to which every
other Difficulty & Embarrassment may be
traced" (p. 16). So wrote the
president of Congress, Samuel Huntington of
Connecticut, in early September, 1780.
So echoed James Lovell of Massachu-
setts in February of the following year:
"Our Prospects as to Money do not
brighten" (p. 688). It must have
been somewhat difficult for a generation
brought up on the old notion that
"The love of money is the root of all evil" to
find itself now subscribing so thorough goingly to a
form of economic deter-
minism that would explain either their
nation's very survival or its destruction.
But their words make it clear that
Ezekiel Cornell, John Hanson, John
Sullivan, Theodorick Bland, Jr.,
Whitmell Hill, James Duane, and company
are now learning some hard lessons about
what might be termed the economic
basis of politics. For his part, James
Madison of Virginia chimes in: "The want
158 OHIO HISTORY
of this article [i.e., money] is the
source of all our public difficulties &
misfortunes" (p. 305). And even
Madison's former teacher at Princeton, that
eminent clergyman and professor of moral
philosophy John Witherspoon, is
forced to agree: "The Distress of
our Finances is the most important &
alarming Circumstance in our
Situation" (p. 452).
To read and to contemplate the contents
of this volume-and of this entire
series thus far--is also to have new and
increasingly more serious reservations
regarding many of the theses about the
Revolutionary period that have been
proposed by our leading scholars over
the years. From the days of George
Bancroft all the way up to the time of
Bernard Bailyn, countless historians
have looked for the cause and
have sought to elucidate the nature of America's
Revolutionary enterprise, but no
interpretation yet posited seems to be
particularly well-documented by these
letters of delegates to Congress. To be
sure, these letters, as voluminous and
important as they are, hardly constitute
the only form of evidence that is
admissable at Clio's judgment bar. But surely
it could be argued that delegates to
Congress were at least close to the nerve
center of the Revolutionary period; and,
therefore, it is hard to see how any
view of that era that aspires to
comprehensiveness could possibly slight the
delegates' letters and remain true to
historical fact. In the aftermath of the
completion of this series, in short,
some old interpretations are going to seem
considerably less persuasive, and some
new ones are certain to be proposed.
By furnishing historians with the kind
of evidence they will need for a more
artful and more accurate re-creation of
the Revolutionary past than we have
ever had hitherto, these editors, these
volumes, and the Library of Congress
itself have all done-and continue to
do-yeoman service.
Marquette University Robert P.
Hay
Steel Valley Klan: The Ku Klux Klan
in Ohio's Mahoning Valley. By William
D. Jenkins. (Kent: The Kent State
University Press, 1990. xii + 222p.;
illustrations, notes, appendixes,
bibliography, index. $27.50.)
How did the Ku Klux Klan, infamous for
its racism, bigotry, and violence,
gain such influence and political power in the Mahoning
Valley of Ohio during
the 1920s where the presence of Afro-Americans
was not great and the
majority white population appeared not
to see blacks as a major threat? That,
in part, is the question that William
Jenkins' study of the Klan's experience in
Mahoning Valley Ohio endeavors to
answer. The answer, for Jenkins, is that
the Klan's popularity derived from its
ability to tap into already existing
anxieties and social tensions that in
the Mahoning Valley were represented by
a number of Protestant faiths frightened
by certain changes produced by
increased industrialization, ethnic
migrations, and shifting social and moral
values and beliefs. In short, the Klan's
success, Jenkins concludes, resulted
from a "too rapid infusion of other
cultures into a fast-changing industrial
society" (p. 160). What was at
stake for many Mahoning Valley white
Protestants was the very integrity of
the "American way of life" itself.
Believing that local political and
community leaders failed to enforce laws of
decency and decorum (especially
regarding alcohol), that governmental cor-
ruption and crime were rampant, and that
a public educational system,
responsible for inculcating traditional
family values and national patriotism,
Book Reviews
159
was being challenged by separatist
parochial schools, many came to see the
Klan as a responsive-and
responsible-ally in the cause of moral redemption
of society.
Thus, a strong pietistic Protestant
reform impulse, emanating not from
religious fundamentalism but out of
mainstream faiths such as the Methodists,
Baptists, Presbyterians, and Disciples
of Christ, joined forces with a KKK
willing to shape its appeal and define
its goals consistent with the underlying
fears felt by many Mahoning Valley
citizens. For a time, such an alliance
brought the Klan and its supporters
considerable political power, especially in
cities like Youngstown. In the long run,
as was true elsewhere in America,
personal differences, the moral and
ethical failings of Klan leaders and their
supporters, and increased opposition
from some of the ethnic and religious
groups who had been singled out for
"moral reform" led to the Klan's demise.
With other historians who have focused
on local and regional Klan activities,
Jenkins argues that one can best
understand the Klan in the 1920s by exploring
the particular local conditions and
circumstances that determined its popularity
rather than relying on generalizations
based on the KKK's national image and
notoriety. There is, in effect, little
discussion of race in this book since,
according to Jenkins, even though the
black population in Youngstown doubled
in the decade prior to the 1920s, and
despite black people's understandable fear
of the Klan presence, the Klan made few
direct references to Afro-Americans
nor did it support anti-black
legislation in the Mahoning Valley region.
Moreover, in contrast again to its
national social class image, the majority of
Klan members came not from the
"low-achieving, low-status segment of the
population" but from a cross
section of professional, business, skilled and
semiskilled labor groups.
In his conclusion, Jenkins links his
study with other regional histories and
with an analysis of the Klan as a
national movement in the 1920s. It is here
where we are left, I think, with less
than one might expect. In the final analysis,
this is as much a story of a reform
Protestantism trying to "impose their values
on American society," which they
saw as being threatened by particular ethnic
and religious groups, as it is a study
of the inner workings and activities of the
Ku Klux Klan. For Jenkins, the KKK
becomes little more than an organized
vehicle for venting existing prejudices
and fears, a movement ably designed to
meet and respond to whatever intolerance
existed at that time and place. In this
respect, even gut-wrenching, old-fashion
bigotry and racism come to lack real
authenticity. That may well tell us
something about our own time as well.
Denison University John B.
Kirby
Correspondence of James K. Polk. Volume VII: January-August 1844. Edited
by Wayne Cutler and James P. Cooper, Jr.
(Nashville: Vanderbilt University
Press, 1989. xxxiv + 561p.; notes,
symbols, chronology, calendar, index.
$32.50.)
It has been six years between volumes,
but this latest collection of letters to
and from James K. Polk can stand on its own, covering
his successful campaign
for a place on the Democratic national ticket in 1844.
A careful reading of the
letters makes it clear that Polk was a "dark
horse" only to the Whig
opposition, which would try
unsuccessfully to convince the voters that Polk
160 OHIO HISTORY
was an unknown and unqualified to hold
the nation's highest office. Polk, 48,
had served seven terms in the House of
Representatives, including two terms
as Speaker, and one term as Governor of
Tennessee. He was, in fact, a leading
candidate for the vice presidential
nomination and clearly "available" for the
top spot on the ticket.
Political intimate Cave Johnson, who
would become Polk's Postmaster
General, offered early indications of
the intrigue involved in the presidential
election of 1844. Writing to Polk on
March 6, he described a movement to
"supplant" Martin Van Buren,
the leading candidate for the presidential nom-
ination, with Lewis Cass. He warned Polk
not to accept a position on a
proposed Cass-Polk ticket.
When Polk wrote to Johnson just two
weeks later (letters from or to Johnson
account for about 15 per cent of all the
correspondence in this volume), Polk
informed his friend that he had been approached
about joining the administra-
tion of President John Tyler as Secretary of the Navy.
Polk assured Johnson
that he had declined, particularly
because his acceptance might have been
viewed as a gesture hostile to Van
Buren.
Reading between the lines of both
letters, it is clear that Polk and his advisors
would do nothing to alienate Van Buren.
While they and many others realized
that Van Buren could not win the
nomination in 1844, a Polk candidacy would
need the support of Van Buren's
followers in the most crucial state of New
York.
Polk's candor as a presidential aspirant
is refreshing. He responded on April
23 to a pointed inquiry from Ohio's
Salmon P. Chase, who had informed Polk
about a mass meeting in Cincinnati of
those opposed to the annexation of
Texas. Polk emphasized the possibility of British
control over Texas and made
it clear that he favored the
"immediate re-annexation of Texas" and the
acquisition of Oregon as well.
Two weeks before the Democratic
convention opened, Polk assured Johnson
on May 13 that Andrew Jackson favored a
candidate from the Southwest who
supported the annexation of Texas. If
there was any mystery as to whom that
might be, Polk could only add, "I
have never aspired so high."
The bulk of the correspondence in this
volume (almost 70 per cent) covers
the period June-August and is filled
with the political rhetoric which is typical
of 19th century presidential campaigns.
But two letters offer interesting
observations about the nation's future
in the pre-Civil War era. William Marcy,
who would become Polk's Secretary of
War, wrote to Polk on June 28 to
inform him that abolitionists accounted
for nearly 20,000 of the 400,000 votes
in New York. About three weeks later,
Polk was warned that he could lose
Ohio if the abolitionists formed a
coalition with the Whigs.
Finding presidential candidates who
could satisfy the North, the South and
the West on the issues of slavery and
the tariff created a mad scramble for the
nation's highest office in the two
decades before the Civil War. For instance,
Johnson had advised Polk on March 6 that
if new Secretary of State John C.
Calhoun could acquire both Texas and
Oregon, he would be determined to win
the presidential nomination in 1848.
Potential candidates such as Calhoun and
Cass seemed willing to accept Polk
or some other "interim"
president for one term and to wait their turns. The
prestige of the presidency suffered.
Unfortunately, Polk upheld his part of the
bargain, announcing when he accepted the
nomination on June 12 that he
would not be a candidate for a second
term, thereby continuing a tradition of
Book Reviews
161
one-term presidents between Jackson and
Abraham Lincoln. Perhaps the
nation needed more enduring leadership
in that critical era.
Wright State University Allan Spetter
Religion and the Radical Republican
Movement 1860-1870. By Victor B.
Howard. (Lexington: The University Press
of Kentucky, 1990. ix + 297p.;
notes, bibliography, index. $32.00.)
Victor B. Howard's Religion and the
Radical Republican Movement de-
scribes the role of religious radicals
in the struggle to achieve abolition and
black suffrage during the Civil War era. Howard's
thesis is that radical
Christians considered the war an
opportunity to liberate enslaved African-
Americans. They set the moral tone for
the age by injecting the righteousness
of God into the war between the states.
Anticipating the return of Christ, they
"saw the growth of reform and the
progress of antislavery opinion as part of
the program to prepare the nation for the advent of the
great millenial age"
(p. 7). Their doctrinal approach to
emancipation ultimately made it easier for
them to abandon blacks.
Radical Christians early supported
emancipation. Howard explains that they
rebuked Lincoln when he revised the
field emancipation of generals Fremont
and Hunter. Lincoln's plan of
compensated emancipation also brought out the
wrath of Christian reformers. George B.
Cheever's remarks in an 1862 sermon
typify the religious ferver among
radicals: "The Slaves are Free by virtue of
the Rebellion and the Government is
bound to protect Them" (p. 23). The
radicals vowed to elect men to office
who would fight for freedom.
Howard considers the Emancipation
Proclamation an early victory. The
"war became more than a conflict in
which the integrity and unity of the nation
were at stake. The war became a battle for the freedom
of mankind" (p. 52).
The Proclamation emboldened radical
Christians who urged Lincoln to make
abolition a condition for
reconstruction. Lincoln disappointed them when he
introduced a "lenient plan"
for reform.
According to Howard, Lincoln's
Reconstruction program almost cost him
the election in 1864. Salmon P. Chase,
who had supported antislavery reform
since the 1830s, appealed to religious
radicals. Chase longed to become
president and seriously considered the
campaign. But he recognized that
Lincoln had widespread appeal.
"Seeing that a contest to unseat the president
might mean losing the election to the Democrats, Chase asked Ohio state
senator James C. Hall to withdraw his
name from the contest" (p. 73).
Nevertheless, radical Christians continued
to recoil at Lincoln's Reconstruc-
tion Plan. Some criticized him because
the plan ignored blacks. Howard credits
radical Christians for the intervention
of Congress. They elected religious
radicals to Congress in 1864. The
president's assassination prevented a direct
confrontation. Christian reformers
interpreted his death to be the work of
Providence, and they assumed Andrew
Johnson would complete the work of
reform. They soon discovered that his
presidency represented more continuity
than change.
Consequently, Radical Republicans
embarked on an alternative to Presiden-
tial Reconstruction. They considered the
campaign of 1866 a referendum on the
Johnson Plan. Republicans won a majority
in the states and in Congress. "The
162 OHIO HISTORY
Country had been given a golden
opportunity to rebuild the nation's walls upon
the corner stone of Equal Rights"
(p. 143). Radicals in Congress produced the
Fourteenth and Fifteenth Amendments.
Howard concludes that radical Christians
abandoned blacks. They consid-
ered their work complete by 1868. They
assumed that blacks could protect
themselves. It is also reasonable to
conclude that religious doctrine had
influenced radical Christians to join
the movement for reform. They were never
wholly committed to civil rights! Once
they satisfied their conscience, they
adopted new causes.
Religion and the Radical Republican
Movement is an important book on
Christian reformers during the Civil War
era. Howard identifies church leaders
who were catalysts for antislavery
reform. This work is well documented with
over fifty pages of notes. Students of
the Civil War era will recognize familiar
themes. A distinctive contribution is
the influence of Christians on Union
politics during the Civil War era. This
emphasis makes this an important study.
This book is required reading for anyone
who wants to understand the role of
Christians in the quest for black
liberation.
North Carolina State University Stephen Middleton
Cemeteries and Gravemarkers: Voices
of American Culture. Edited by Rich-
ard E. Meyer. (Ann Arbor: UMI Research
Press, 1989. xiv + 347p.;
illustration, notes, bibliography,
index. $44.95.)
This fascinating look at gravestones and
cemeteries is the latest in UMI's
"American Material Culture and
Folklife" series. The profusion of "tomb-
stone studies" in the last two
decades can be said to have originated with the
classic work of anthropologists Deetz
and Dethlefsen, whose studies on New
England tombstone design/inscription
have become classics in the literature of
the social sciences. It is therefore
fitting that James Deetz wrote the foreword
to this book. What follows the
introduction by Richard Meyer-an overview of
approaches taken in studying
cemeteries-is an anthology of twelve chapters
or essays treating various aspects of
cemetery monuments and cemetery
layout. This book, like the study of
cemeteries themselves, is highly interdis-
ciplinary. The works of anthropologists,
archaeologists, folklorists, and geog-
raphers are represented.
The individual studies are mostly
place-specific, or cover the gravestone
iconography of specific ethnic groups.
The book is divided into four sections
(Icon and Epitaph, Origins and
Influences, Ethnicity and Regionalism, and
Business and Pleasure). Although Ohio is
not the focus of any particular
chapter, several are relevant to Ohio
(for example Thomas Hannon's chapter
of Western Pennsylvania cemeteries), or
contain Ohio examples; Blanche
Linden-Ward's chapter on tourist and
leisure uses of 19th century rural
cemeteries features Spring Grove
Cemetery in Cincinnati. Overall, however,
this book is meant to shed light on the variety of
cemetery design traditions
across the country.
The essays in this book show that
cemetery landscapes have regional
character and that they have changed
through time. The essays focusing on
specific carvers or traditions, such as
those of the upland south folk cemeter-
ies, and grave markers in the American southwest, or
southern California,
Book Reviews
163
show a pattern of ethnic identity that
help define the regions of the United
States. Others show prevailing patterns
of change and assimilation into "main
stream" American culture. In this
regard, the essays on Victorian gravestones
and monuments are provocative, for they
show how cultural attitudes toward
death are translated into funerary art
forms. Ellen Marie Snyder's essay on
Victorian attitudes toward children as
"innocents," is noteworthy. Barbara
Rotundo's essay on the commercial
development of "white bronze" (actually
zinc) gravestones tells us much about
the development and marketing of
standard gravestones in the late 19th
century.
Surely, cemeteries are among the most
interesting of places because they
reveal so much about the attitudes of
the living. The dozen essays in
Cemeteries and Gravemarkers are well-written, and they represent a broad
range of approaches to studying
cemeteries and their markers. Students of folk
culture and material culture, landscape
architects, and cemetery historians-
not to mention the growing number of
"cemetery buffs"-will appreciate this
book.
University of Texas at Arlington Richard Francaviglia
Radicalism in the States: The
Minnesota Farmer-Labor Party and the Amer-
ican Political Economy. By Richard M. Valelly. (Chicago: The University of
Chicago Press, 1989. xviii + 258p.;
tables, notes, bibliography, index.
$29.95.)
There is a surprising contrast between
the photograph on the jacket of this
book and the analysis of the
Farmer-Labor experience in the 1920s and the
1930s which follows. The author knows
Robert L. Morlan's Political Prairie
Fire: The NonPartisan League,
1915-1922 (1955), and rightly calls it
a classic.
His aim, too, is of interest: to
determine what forces and concerns roused the
workers and farmers of South Dakota,
Minnesota, and other states which all
but gave them national impact; and what
possible relevance their experiences
can have to ours.
There is, however, that moving
photograph noted above of workers dressed
in their decent best, in that all but
desperate 1937 meeting in a bar to take heart
from each other's presence-drinking
beer, yes, but evidently concerned for
their prospects and condition. And there
is the prose that follows. It raises
questions about our history, and our
ability to learn from it. The writer is a
political scientist, not an historian.
But he has read deeply, if narrowly, in the
historical record. He has in hand
materials which might well stir analysts, as
well as social descendants.
The author wishes to compare early
"radicalism"-defined as opposed to
established "accumulationism,"
itself defined as wanting to reduce labor costs
to society and industry. Why was this
radicalism able to create social sympathy
in midwestern states? Can such
radicalism flourish today? I will return to this
question, but, for the moment, consider
the example posed for consideration.
Radicalism flourished in Minnesota and
adjoining states in the World War I era,
and produced names which are not
entirely forgotten. William Lemke, Ernest
Lundeen, and Floyd B. Olson led
political crusades which offended bankers,
164 OHIO HISTORY
established political figures, and
conservative editors who seized on popular
fear of socialists and other
"radicals" to rouse vigilantes against them.
Once we were committed to the Allied
cause, Minnesota Republican Senator
Frank Kellogg, angered by a statement of
Robert M. LaFollette, misquoted in
an AP dispatch, presented a motion in
the Senate calling for LaFollette's
expulsion from it for treason. The
demagoguery of "patriots" in 1917-1918 is
notorious. Another Republican regular
put it that "A Non-Partisan League
lecturer is a traitor every time....
Where we made a mistake was in not
establishing a firing squad in the first
days of the war."
Yet the Nonpartisan League reached into
the hearts and homes of basically
conservative people and won laws and
commissions which forced into law
many equitable processes in civic
pursuits. The League influenced politics as
far away as Oklahoma and Montana. Our
author is interested in processes
rather than people, and so all but
passes over the phenomenon of Arthur
Claude Townley, an inspired organizer of
Nonpartisan workers and leaders.
Mr. Valelly appears to think that the
dramatic rise of midwestern insurgency
was due to the region's relatively loose
and sparse political structure; that it
showed sparkle and effectiveness early
in postwar years, but could not
dominate an affluent electorate; that
LaFollette's 1924 Presidential challenge
was the voice of a dying cause. Finally,
that state insurgency in the 1930s could
not compete with New Deal measures
coming out of Washington. Edwin
O'Connor in his novel The Last Hurrah
(1956) proposed the same idea as it
affected Boston politicians in the same
era.
Wholly missing is any sense of
"process" generated out of the national
achievements of Progressivism, which
Morlan understood provided the sinews
and ideas and leadership for his
political prairie fire. A. C. Townley was a
populist boss who could give preremptory
instructions to his Minnesota and
South Dakota followers and make them a
political force because they thor-
oughly understood his down-to-earth
program for workers and farmers. They
followed his lead without question
because it was their program, too. When
they were overwhelmed by an unyielding
industrial establishment walking
blindly into the crash of 1929, A. C.
Townley faded into anonymity-he was
still alive and totally unknown when
Morlan published his saga of nonparti-
sanship.
The author is aware that Progressivism
has been denigrated by some
"Marxist" academics as having
been no more than a stalking horse for large
capitalists bent on gaining entree into
centralized government. But, having
been interested in winning and losing
rather than civic goals, he wonders
whether the New Deal achievements have
now worn out their welcome;
whether state-radical alliances might
better interest dissatisfied elements of our
"counterelites."
I suggest that the current
anti-Progressive theses merit a fresh review to
determine whether they, the
Progressives, were in fact no more than an
assembly line for capitalists on the
make.
Most of us feel, if we do not actually
know, that Lincoln Steffens,
LaFollette, Jane Addams, George W.
Norris, Ben B. Lindsey, Ida M. Tarbell,
and countless others of the Progressive
wave were something more than
servants of large industry. They were
people who studied the ways of
American life, labor, and ideals, who
sought, often successfully, to keep them
from falling into disrepute. Our author has meant well
in urging us to study
"contemporary politics in a structural
and historical way." That way is not
Book Reviews
165
easily found, but the challenge of our
times may well provide leads and insights
which will aid our quest.
The Belfy Louis Filler
Ovid, Michigan
The Queen and The Arts: Cultural Life
in Nineteenth-Century Cincinnati. By
Robert C. Vitz. (Kent: The Kent State
University Press, 1989, xi + 322p.;
illustrations, notes, bibliography,
index. $27.50.)
During the decades that the Ohio River served
as the commercial link to the
West and South, Cincinnati enjoyed a
reputation as the culture center beyond
the Appalachians, proudly hailed as
"the Athens of the West," "the Paris of
America," but more frequently
"the Queen City of the West." Rarely without
some type of arts school since frontier
days, the city for a time appeared to be
maturing into the music center of the
nation, with its May Festivals, its College
of Music, and its imposing Music Hall.
Theater, on the other hand, was con-
sidered less respectable, condemned by
many as the devil's playground, and
faced opposition throughout the
nineteenth century. Famous actors came to
Cincinnati, but supporting casts
remained weak, and audience behavior was
frequently abominable, as Frances
Trollope reported with some of her sharpest
comments. The Ohio city illustrates on a
grand scale the conflicts surrounding
culture on the urban frontier, where
civic boosterism intersected provincialism
and moral conservatism, and the work
ethic persistently battled a yearning for
elegance, social display, and pure
entertainment.
By 1819 Cincinnati had its Haydn
Society, patterned after the Handel and
Haydn Society of Boston, while a Musical
Fund Society a short time later was
the city's answer to a similar
organization in Philadelphia. During the early
1840s local audiences experienced their
first orchestra, whereas James H.
Caldwell, the prominent New Orleans
theater manager, had opened the New
Cincinnati Theatre a decade earlier.
Music teachers advertised regularly in
local newspapers, and touring musicians
appeared in the city with increasing
regularity, encouraged by the influx of
German immigrants who came through-
out much of the century. Painters and
sculptors began to concentrate in Cin-
cinnati during the 1830s, although few
developed into artists of national
prominence. For cultural leaders
commerce was viewed as the handmaiden of
art, while Cincinnatians, like urban
frontiersmen elsewhere, trusted the arts to
lift their community above the baser
human instincts, serving almost a religious
purpose.
Yet Cincinnati's cultural challenge to
New York, Philadelphia, and Boston
quickly faded, as the city's economic
growth declined and as Chicago emerged
in size and wealth. The Civil War
initiated a period of retrenchment for the
Ohio city, as river trade fell off and
no direct rail line to the South proved
forthcoming. Cincinnati's musical life
continued to expand, and the opening of
the art museum there in 1886 assured
that the city would remain a regional
center for painters, even though
increasingly overshadowed by Chicago. While
the 1890s proved a rich decade for
Cincinnati's art life, the city's tastes re-
mained basically traditional, its
citizens favoring paintings that were realistic
and easily understandable. Not until the
1920s did a new vigor emerge, with the
return of seasonal opera and the
establishment of the Taft Museum.
166 OHIO HISTORY
The major problem with The Queen and
The Arts is that Robert Vitz has
spread himself too thin. He sketches not
only developments in music, painting,
sculpture, and theater, but also
literary efforts, publishing activities, intellec-
tual currents, and even trends in
woodworking, ceramics, and the decorative
arts. The result is a concert of facts
badly in need of orchestration. Themes are
introduced and not satisfactorily
developed; names are added like grace notes,
which clutter more than they embellish.
Vitz includes, for example, an in-
terlude on the Baldwin Piano Company, a
significant aspect of his story to be
sure, but his treatment is more of an outline
than a meaningful historical
analysis. The author has researched his
topic well, yet he has not edited and
shaped his material to full advantage. The
Queen and The Arts holds moments
of promise. Vitz's study hints at
becoming a significant examination of the arts
in a young democratic society. Like
urban frontiersmen, however, the author
has set his sights too high; he meanders
over the surface without savoring much
of the richness inside, seemingly unsure
about which cultural areas to
emphasize. By attempting to be all
inclusive, Vitz showers his pages with
tedium, seriously diminishing his
accomplishment both for the specialist and
for the general reader.
Southern Methodist University Ronald L. Davis
Tracing Archaeology's Past: The
Historiography of Archaeology. Edited
by
Andrew L. Christenson. (Carbondale:
Southern Illinois University Press,
1989. 252p.; bibliography, index.
$32.50.)
Good scholarship, one is occasionally
reminded, is issues-driven, problem-
oriented, and addressed to a major
disciplinary need. By this or any other
criteria, Tracing Archaeology's Past:
The Historiography of Archaeology is
good scholarship-one of those occasional
and welcome reminders. It is a
critical assessment of how histories of
archaeology are written and how they
are used by archaeologists. Within these
contexts, various theoretical and
methodological concerns are examined
from the beginnings of professional
archaeology in the mid-nineteenth
century to the present. Tracing Archaeolo-
gy's Past reflects an increasing awareness among archaeologists
of the critical
importance of historical perspective to
solving important questions and prob-
lems involved in current research. This
importance is shown in relation to
several ongoing concerns of
archaeologists working in a variety of different
contexts. The conceptual and
methodological components of historical inquiry
and their importance in researching and
writing the history of archaeology
loom large in these pages.
Tracing Archaeology's Past is an important work because of its originality
and the substantive issues it raises
about interpreting the history of archaeo-
logical research. The book's seventeen
chapters were initially given as papers
at the conference held at Southern
Illinois University at Carbondale on May 1
and 2, 1987--"Explaining Archaeology's Past: The
Method and Theory of the
History of Archaeology." The
breadth, depth, and interdisciplinary nature of
these chapters constitute the book's
greatest strength. Both prominent and
lesser-known names appear as contributors. These
chapters are grouped
according to three separate yet
integrated historiographical themes: the uses of
the history of archaeology, the various
contexts of that history, and the
Book Reviews
167
processes and problems involved in
research, documentation, and interpreta-
tion. Despite the broad range of
concerns and interests addressed here, the
book holds together remarkably well due
to the editorial skill and broad
perspective of Christenson. His
introductions to these groupings or parts make
important connections and provide
synthesis to the whole.
This first part of this work, "The
Uses of the History of Archaeology," is
composed of 6 chapters that range in
subject matter from phenomenology and
archaeology to the place of the history
of archaeology in the liberal arts
curriculum. A common denominator,
however, is the critical importance of
tracing the origin and development of
archaeological ideas and trends in an
historical context. The problems
involved in looking for modern ideas in old
places, for example, provide an
especially important example of this concern.
But of more immediate interest to
working archaeologists are those chapters
that demonstrate the importance of
examining the history of archaeological
research at a given site as a tool for
solving problems of current archaeology.
The value of this knowledge (as opposed
to a familiarity based on a literature
search alone) is based on the assumption
that of all factors involved in
archaeological research none are more
variable than the idiosyncracies of
individual archaeologists. This approach
also points to the ongoing value of
museum collections and archival
holdings, such as the private papers of
archaeologists, to solving current
research problems at specific sites.
The five chapters in Part II relate to
the contexts of the history of
archaeology. From the historian's
perspective, this is its most important
section. Concerns for context have
received far too little attention in much of
the literature relating to archaeology's
past. C.M. Hinsley, for example, argues
for the importance of regional context
in revising and revisioning the history of
archaeology. Hinsley shows how the
different regional contexts in which
archaeology developed (both in the
United States and Europe) often resulted in
distinct intellectual traditions,
approaches, and concerns. Daniel Schavelzon
provides an example of changing views of
the archaeological past within one of
these distinct regional contexts, the
history of Mesoamerican archaeology.
Alice B. Kehoe, by contrast, is
concerned with contextualizing archaeology
from a feminist perspective, showing how
the histories of archaeology have
been written by the male members of the
dominant class who have seen the
origin of the discipline in the
researches of men sharing their own views.
Donald McVicker examines critical issues
relating to prejudice and context,
specifically the disciplinary prejudices
which anthropologically-trained archae-
ologists often bring to the study of
archaeology's past, particularly when they
study the work of pre-Boasian figures.
The third and final section of Tracing
Archaeology's Past examines several
processes, problems, and issues relating
to the construction of historical
interpretations. It also provides
additional and eloquent testimony to the many
pitfalls awaiting those who fail to
understand the actual or contemporary
context in which texts were written, as
opposed to our presumed understand-
ing of them. The arguments presented in
nineteenth-century texts, for exam-
ple, have their own internal logic based
on a set of shared assumptions and
interpretive paradigms quite different
from those developed by their twentieth-
century successors. These assumptions
often go undetected, sometimes lead-
ing to misrepresentation in historical
assessments of the ideas and arguments
presented in the works in question.
168 OHIO HISTORY
There is much sound logic and
historiography in this book, which is certain
to find a permanent place on the
bookshelves of graduate students and their
mentors. Historians, even those without
a particular interest in archaeology's
past, will also find much that is
interesting in this volume. It is an excellent
example of how the methodology and first
principles of historical inquiry can
be applied to the history of a cognate
field with significant results. This work
has met a great need in the history of
archaeology, a small but erudite field that
is richer for the observations and
shared experience present in this volume.
Tracing Archaeology's Past presents a high standard of scholarship against
which subsequent works in this field
will surely be gauged.
Ohio Historical Society Terry A. Barnhart
Abolitionist, Actuary, Atheist:
Elizur Wright and the Reform Impulse. By
Lawrence B. Goodheart. (Kent: Kent State
University Press, 1990. xiii +
282p.; illustrations, notes,
bibliography, index, $27.50.)
Joshua Leavitt: Evangelical
Abolitionist. By Hugh Davis. (Baton
Rouge:
Louisiana State University Press, 1990.
xiv + 328p.; notes, bibliography,
index. $35.00.)
In a revolutionary time like the
present, it is reasonable to expect changes in
historical outlook and emphases.
However, in a time, also, in which an
established historian holds that slaves
emancipated themselves, and another
receives accolades for a well-researched
study which has it that the American
North, not the South, was committed to
slavery, the condition of the field takes
on particular interest.
Two new studies suggest that the field
will require broad and varied studies
before it can be said to be sufficient for modern use.
The book on Elizur Wright
is not the first, but it is, as the
publisher says, the first scholarly study of this
once important figure in the antislavery
crusade. A key question would be why
it has taken more than a century to produce one.
A simplistic answer would be that
Wright's turn past middle age to atheism
cooled interest in his earlier career, but this would
not fully satisfy the query.
Wright was himself an ardent theist in
youth, and even in middle age was,
indeed, taken with the "reform
impulse." There have been sound studies of
political abolitionism which did not
appeal to the religious-evangelical temper
of 1850s America, and which did not highlight Wright.
It would be simplistic,
again, to claim that Wright's life
spread into too many fields-antislavery,
insurance, atheism-to call out a
broad-based study of concern to historians.
Robert G. Ingersoll stirred interest as
a well-grounded Republican party
spokesman as well as an atheist. Frank
Parsons is known to students of
vocational education. He is still to be discovered as a
meteor of reform in a
broader Progressive context. The fact seems to be that
there was some flaw in
the apparently solid achievement of Wright which
diminished him even as a
pioneer in insurance, which he certainly
was.
William Lloyd Garrison and John Brown
are remembered by an unacademic
public despite scholarly studies and
sectional opinion which made every effort
to derogate their views and actions.
Garrison holding aloft a burning Consti-
tution, and Brown being responsible for pitiful deaths
in Kansas and at Harpers
Book Reviews
169
Ferry, do not diminish their images as
symbolic figures of substance and
integrity. James G. Birney, Lucretia
Mott, William Jay, Elijah P. Lovejoy,
John Greenleaf Whittier as
abolitionists, and numerous others vary in visibil-
ity, in both the public and academe.
There was a certain glibness in Wright's
changing prose and shifting program
which keep even such of his publications
as The Chronotype from drawing the
attention of academics. This is
unfortunate and may change, since Wright's
most heroic action was to leave church
and faith despite the pain it caused him
from family and friends. His new
biography is "modern" in some respects. It
interests itself in fashionable
"child rearing" themes, for example, and
criticizes Wright for his
"bourgeois liberalism." It is welcome addition to the
growing literature.
Joshua Leavitt provides a different
issue in historiography. It was originally
thought that his lack of a solid body of
"papers" militated against his
presenting a coherent image in abolition
which might have given him a place
beside the strategic figures of his
generation. The present writer long ago
suggested that no one who had written so
much and for so long as he had-and
whose letters were strewn through those
of other abolitonists-could fail to
respond to due research. In any case, he
now has his biography. How to define
its uses in a reconstructed antislavery
pattern is another matter.
It appears that, after all, Leavitt's
career does not grow when systematically
examined. His earliest
causes-temperance, seamen's needs and rights, his
and other's efforts to end prostitution
in New York, of all places-do not gain
him stature. All his and other moral
causes have been researched in depth
before. His entrance into the early
antislavery movement had no individual
focus. It simply made him an addition to
others of more distinctive quality.
Leavitt himself thought differently. A
man of good family and education, he
saw himself as a vital crusader. He was
strongly involved in organizing the
Liberty Party and the Free Soil Party,
as they moved into broader areas of
transitional national politics. But
there was neither eloquence nor creative
imagination that could place him close
to such figures as James G. Birney or
Garrison, or the Republicans and
Democrats who rose to meet the challenge of
the natioal crisis.
Leavitt suffered from a need to support
his family and self: money did not
materialize for him as it did for some
others in the antislavery crusade. He
suffered also from his sense of
deservedness, for which Lewis Tappan, who
subsidized others, saw no reason. He
ended, as he himself said bitterly, as a
"mere employee" on The
Independent, once famous, now too little consulted,
which featured such editors and
contributors as Henry Ward Beecher,
Leonard Bacon, and others secure in
history.
A letter of Leavitt's in the Library of
Congress interestingly suggests that
Leavitt might have joined Wright in
repudiating religious abolitionism, or
more. It will doubtless surface in due
course as new studies better integrate
individual theses.
Leavitt remains the long-lived workhorse
of the antislavery saga with which
he was once identified. The main
limitation in his biography is a failure to cope
with other writings which have sought
credibility by demeaning antislavery. It
even reflects some of their
presumptions, as in its apparent judgment that
Leavitt "condescended" to
seamen and other minority groups whom he
defended or sought to aid. The book
gains, however, from the careful reading
and suggestions of Professor Merton
Dillon, himself a student of the late
170 OHIO HISTORY
Dwight Dumond, whose editorial work on
letters by Birney, Weld, and the
Grimkes serves all researchers. Dillon
is to be congratulated for having helped
steer this study into safe scholarly
harbor.
The Belfry Louis Filler
Ovid, Michigan
George Kennan and the
American-Russian Relationship 1865-1924. By
Frederick F. Travis. (Ahtens: Ohio
University/Swallow Press, 1990. xix +
433p.; illustrations, notes, selected
bibliography, index. $39.95.)
In the period from the American Civil
War to the Russian Revolution, when
Russian-American relations were less
prominent than Soviet-American rela-
tions are today, George Kennan emerged
as a leading American authority on
Russian society and government.
Frederick Travis's exhaustively researched
biography of Kennan traces the origins
and the evolution of his lifetime
fascination with that nation. He describes Kennan, a
man who had no formal
education in Russian culture or affairs,
as an individual imbued in the mid-
nineteenth century vision of a world of
immense possibilities. Kennan's
influence, according to the author, was
more evident in shaping American
public opinion than in directly
influencing foreign policy, although at times he
caught the attention of policy makers
such as President Theodore Roosevelt
and Secretary of State Robert Lansing.
Travis's account describes five journeys
Kennan made to Russia between
1865 and 1901. Two of these trips stand
out as particularly noteworthy in
forming Kennan's views. The first was
his initial trek to Siberia in 1865 as a
member of the Russian-American Telegraph
Company's failed effort to con-
struct a telegraph line across the
Bering Sea. The expedition may have been a
failure, but the experience piqued the
young Kennan's interest in Russia. He
returned enamored with the country and
its government. He lectured and
wrote about his experience, often in
laudatory terms.
The other pivotal journey came in 1885.
Prompted by an interest in the
Russian exile system and charges of its
cruelty, Kennan returned to Siberia to
research this system and to meet
personally with political exiles. He found
them intelligent and informed
individuals. He was moved by the sufferings they
endured for their political views and
returned to the United States an avid critic
of the tsarist regime. He wrote a series
of exposes on the exile system in the
periodical Century which were
compiled and published in 1891 as Siberia and
the Exile System, a work one observer described as the "Uncle Tom's
Cabin
of Siberian exiles." Travis asserts
that in the following years, Kennan's
advocacy of the cause of tsarist
opponents made him "the most implacable
non-Russian opponent of the Russian
government in the English-speaking
world, if not the entire world" (p.
144).
Kennan's contacts with the liberal
Russian opponents of the tsarist regime
expanded as he continued his writing,
lecturing, and lobbying for the liberal
cause through the 1890s. He made his
last trip to Russia in 1901 and after that
time relied on second-hand information,
most of which came from liberal
tsarist critics, as his source for
following the changes as the political situation
deteriorated. As a result of this skewed
information, as well as his firm belief
in the liberal cause, Kennan badly
miscalculated the events surrounding the
Book Reviews
171
Russian Revolution. He regarded Lenin as
a "crank, like all socialists," and an
unwitting agent of the German
government. He fully expected the 1917 revolt
to result in a liberal victory.
Therefore, when the Bolsheviks seized power, he
wrote to Secretary of State Lansing
advocating American intervention, wrong-
ly believing that the majority of
Russians supported the cause of the liberal
opposition. As Travis notes, Kennan
failed to consider the strength of the
Bolsheviks and the unpredictable
dynamics of the revolution.
Although the writing and style of this
work is ponderous and often
distracting, the research is admirable.
Travis has exhaustively documented
Kennan's views through a close reading
of virtually all of his published works,
augmented by material from Kennan's
personal papers. This work is well
worth consideration by anyone interested
in the Russian-American relations
prior to the Russian Revolution.
St. Louis University T. Michael Ruddy
Snowbelt Cities: Metropolitan
Politics in the Northeast and Midwest since
World War II. Edited by Richard M. Bernard (Bloomington: Indiana
University Press, 1990. ix + 275p.;
notes, appendix, tables, index. $35.00.)
In 1983 Richard M. Bernard and Bradley
R. Rice edited Sunbelt Cities:
Politics and Growth Since World War
II. That book provided some valuable
sketches of twelve "sunbelt"
cities as a way of better understanding this
country's newest "region."
Seven years later, Bernard has assembled sketches
of twelve of the sixteen largest
metropolitan areas in the northeast and midwest
for a companion volume on Snowbelt
Cities. Readers of this journal will be
disappointed that the essay commissioned
on Columbus was never completed
for the volume, and others will surely
note the absence of essays on Detroit and
St. Louis, and question the inclusion of
Washington, D.C., but the essays
included in this volume do seem to
include a representative selection of cities
in this region. It should also be noted
that the essays appearing in this book are
generally of higher quality than the
essays in the sunbelt book, in part because
the authors of these sketches have more
and better secondary sources from
which to work.
Although all essays deal with urban
politics since 1945, they vary greatly on
their emphasis. Thomas F. Campbell
provides a neatly executed narrative of
Cleveland's political development,
focusing on personalities such as Anthony
J. Celebrezze, Carl B. Stokes, Dennis
Kucinich and George V. Voinovich. In
contrast to this approach, Zane L.
Miller and Bruce Tucker provide an
imaginative and useful analysis of
Cincinnati politics by exploring the city's
response to the changing meaning of
pluralism. According to Miller and
Tucker, the key to understanding
Cincinnati politics is the transformation from
an emphasis on cultural groups and the
city as a whole to an emphasis on what
Miller and Tucker call individual
pluralism. This inventive framework allows
the authors to make sense out of what
sometimes seems unrelated and
disparate.
Arnold Hirsch's essay on Chicago
provides still another approach to urban
politics, emphasizing the inner workings
of Chicago politics as well as a
fascinating discussion of the politics
of race. Daniel J. Walkowitz emphasizes
172 OHIO HISTORY
New York City's dependence on actors
outside of New York. Other essays on
cities like Philadelphia, Pittsburgh and
Kansas City provide new perspectives
to themes familiar to readers of Sunbelt
Cities-the neighborhood revolution's
impact, suburban-city conflict and other
examples of growing fragmentation in
the political process. The essays on
Boston and Milwaukee explore the
persistence of machine politics, while
the essay on Indianapolis highlights the
persistence of business dominance in the
Hoosier capital. What is most striking
about this volume, however, is not the
differences, but the similarities shared
by these cities with those appearing in
the sunbelt volume. Bernard is probably
correct in arguing that the power of
non-business groups sets snowbelt cities
apart from sunbelt cities, but other
patterns seem strikingly familiar.
One other characteristic of this volume
is a generally optimistic tone when
discussing politics. Bernard is quick to
point out in the introduction that these
cities have suffered severe economic
setbacks and will never dominate the
nation as they once did, but very few of
the essays suggest that these cities are
doomed to continued decline. The authors
who wrote on Cleveland and
Cincinnati while recognizing the
hardships placed on these two cities due to
deindustrialization are certainly not
ready to pen urban obituaries either. At
least some of the essays, such as Joseph
Arnold's examination of Baltimore,
suggest that the economic crisis has
helped produce a government more
responsive to neighborhood and quality
of life issues than ever before.
The value of this volume, then, is its
ability to provide an informative update
to the plight of the snowbelt cities. It
reminds us that, amid rapid economic
change, most snowbelt cities are seeing
new political actors and hearing a new
political discourse. The lessons and
experiences of these cities should not only
be of interest to urban historians, but
should be consulted by all students of
contemporary America.
University of Texas at Arlington Robert B. Fairbanks
This Nest of Vipers: McCarthyism and
Higher Education in the Mundel Affair,
1951-52. By Charles H. McCormick. (Urbana: University of Illinois
Press,
1989. x + 229p.; illustrations, notes,
index. $24.95.)
In This Nest of Vipers, Charles
McCormick tells the story of the ouster of
Dr. Luella Raab Mundel as head of the
art department at Fairmont State
College in Fairmont, West Virginia.
McCormick traces, with great clarity and
detail, Mundel's unsuccessful struggle to retain her job. This effort culminated
in a slander suit brought by Mundel
against Thelma Loudin, a member of the
state Board of Education. Mundel charged
that Loudin had slandered her by
claiming she was a "security
risk" in remarks before a meeting of the board,
and that this had caused the board to
not renew her contract. The suit resulted
in two trials, each reminiscent of the
famed Scopes trial. Defending Thelma
Loudin was U.S. Senator Matthew M.
Neely, a local political legend, while
Mundel was represented by iconoclastic
radical lawyer Horace S. Meldahl.
Neely became, according to McCormick,
"perhaps the central character in the
Mundel affair" and dominated both
trials with his harangues about patriotism,
Christianity, and Mundel's alleged
atheism. In the end a jury decided that
Mundel had not been slandered, thus
ending the fourteen-month controversy.
Book Reviews
173
McCormick claims that the Mundel affair
offers historians "a rare opportu-
nity to observe in painful detail the
playing out of an anti-communist episode
in a single community." He argues
that McCarthyism-like "witch-hunts" of
earlier times-was a reaction by part of
society against unsettling social and
cultural changes. Certain individuals,
often those "culturally different from the
majority," come to be seen as
"embodiments" of the evils represented by
change and become the victims of a kind
of cathartic purge by those in the
community most threatened by change.
The Mundel affair, according to
McCormick, was part of a larger conflict
within the community over the
transformation of Fairmont State from a
teachers college to a general liberal arts institution.
A large part of the Fair-
mont community, and some on the faculty,
wanted the institution to remain a
place that trained teachers "to
spread genteel middle class values" and that
respected "local interests."
They resented the changes made at Fairmont State
by reformist president George H. Hand,
who oversaw its change into a
comprehensive liberal arts institution
which would prepare students for "world
citizenship." Hand hired Dr. Mundel
to head the art department, and to those
opposed to the changes at Fairmont she
became the embodiment of all that had
gone wrong at the school. Her
liberalism, agnosticism, and lifestyle made her
a convenient target for those, like
Thelma Loudin, who wished to weaken
Hand's influence at the school. Mundel
also came under attack from jealous
colleagues and those on the faculty who
disliked Hand. In addition, the local
American Legion provoked the community
against Mundel by creating "an
atmosphere of hostility toward
non-conformity" through its anti-communist
activities. Yet, as McCormick also
shows, the tragedy of the Mundel affair was
not so much the "few who hounded her"
but rather "the many who ignored
her." Almost no Fairmont residents
supported her and Mundel received little
help from the national liberal
community. Although the ACLU offered advice,
it refused to support Mundel with money
or legal briefs. Professional educa-
tional organizations, most notably the
AAUP, also did little on her behalf.
In the end one is struck by how little
anti-communism had to do with the
whole incident. McCormick shows that in
the Mundel affair anti-communism
was only one part of a complex conflict
within a community. His excellent
study will be of great value to all
those interested in the history of higher
education, and helps fill a need for
more studies on the workings of anti-
communism at the local level.
Clarke College Michael J. Anderson
Feminism in the Labor Movement: Women
and the United Auto Workers,
1935-1975. By Nancy F. Gabin. (Ithaca: Cornell University Press,
1990.
xi + 257p.; illustrations, notes,
bibliography, index. $21.95 cloth; $12.95
paper.)
Recent historians have usually traced
the rise of feminism in the 1960s to
upper and middle class roots and rarely
examine its working class origins.
Nancy F. Gabin effectively challenges
that perspective as incomplete. Through
research on the United Auto Workers
Union she uncovered a fertile relation-
ship between unionism and feminism,
which developed in the period from 1930
to 1970. Starting her monograph with the
creation of the CIO in the auto
174 OHIO HISTORY
industry in the 1930s, Gabin reveals how
women's membership in a union
gradually transformed their perspective
from acceptance of a separate and
segregated role to advocacy of equality.
Key events in that development were
World War II, the reconversion of
1946-47 and the recessions of the 1950s.
Because of these events, Gabin argues,
UAW women were already bringing
forward issues of gender equality prior to the rise of
NOW. And two of these
women, Dorothy Haener and Caroline
Davis, used that experience to help in
the founding of NOW.
This book is a groundbreaker. Its
examination of how unionism begot
feminism among working class women is
noteworthy and represents a deep-
ening of our understanding of how and
why women of all classes responded to
the civil rights era. As women were
welcomed into a union whose philosophy
encouraged the organization of all
workers, situations arose in which women
began to resent differential treatment.
World War II is once again presented as
an important goad to these developments.
Women worked in war jobs that not
only paid them better, but also gave
them a greater sense of fulfillment. When
the war ended, 85.5 percent of the women
wanted to continue to work, but the
cancelling of defense contracts and the
return of servicemen forced them out.
Whereas historian William Chafe contends
that the wartime experience
whetted women's appetites for more work
rather than challenged their beliefs
about women, Gabin would see the
experience as engendering the glimmerings
of feminism.
Gabin further differentiates her
treatment from Chafe's in her examination of
the role that the Women's Bureau played
in the fostering of an ideal of equal
treatment among women workers, who
temporarily constituted almost 22 per-
cent of the UAW. The Women's Bureau
provided an institutional space within
which women could gather and organize
opposition, when appropriate, on
issues that affected women. It
encouraged collective opposition to the postwar
firings of women, and then expanded to
the establishment of regional confer-
ences for women.
The most important development in
Gabin's work is the abandonment of
protective legislation by UAW women
prior to the formation of NOW. Support
for this type of legislation had long
separated working women from business
and professional women, who were more
prone to support the ERA. Gabin
reveals how management used protective
legislation to undermine the Equal
Pay Act of 1963 and the Civil Rights Act
of 1964, and thereby provoked a
reaction in favor of the ERA among
working women.
Gabin has utilized a storehouse of
material from the Wayne State University
Archives of Labor and Urban Affairs and
places her material convincingly
within the historiographic context.
There is a problem, however, with the
depth of her coverage. Her book focuses
primarily on the national level and on
institutions, such as the International
Executive Board and the Women's
Bureau. Thus, the reader does not get a
sense of how widespread the
attitudinal changes were, nor why women
in certain locals were more likely to
challenge UAW mores. An examination of
the background of those women in
leadership positions might also have
provided additional insights into the
process of change. Overall, this is an
important, well-written book which
should serve as a building block in the
creation of a history of the link between
unionism and feminism.
Youngstown State University William D. Jenkins
Book Reviews
Letters of Delegates to Congress,
1774-1789. Volume 16: September 1,
1780-February 28, 1781. Edited by Paul H. Smith, Gerard W. Gawalt, and
Ronald M. Gephart. (Washington, D.C.:
Library of Congress, 1989. xxix +
804p.; editorial method and apparatus,
acknowledgments, chronology of
Congress, list of delegates to Congress,
illustrations, notes, index, $38.00.)
In commenting upon several of the other
volumes in this series, this reviewer
has made a number of points that could
well be repeated here. These volumes
are superbly edited, they are highly
usable as reference works, and they are
destined to be of enduring value long
after the Bicentennial Era is over.
Moreover, there is much in this volume,
as in the previous ones, that could
be used to humanize our colorful cast of characters and
the pageant in which
they played their important roles.
Indeed, should the widely acclaimed Ken
Burns decide at some future point to do
a PBS video on the American
Revolution, perhaps something comparable
to his often gripping and haunting-
ly beautiful 1990 miniseries on the
Civil War, he would encounter a wealth of
material here that is suitable for
transformation into a fine, fine script.
Admittedly, in many cases, the dramatis
personae of Volume 16 continue to be
reluctant delegates, flesh-and-blood
human beings who are understandably
torn between a compelling sense of
obligation to serve the public on the one
hand and an unquenchable desire to be
back home with their own families and
friends on the other. Most of them try hard to function
effectively in these often
distressing times, but as mere mortals
they themselves are hardly immune from
such common foibles as vanity, jealousy,
and backbiting. The infant nation's
life may be hanging in the balance; but
still these men who will one day be
lauded as peerless Founding Fathers now
display a certain very human
tendency to be caught up in gossip,
speculation, and intrigue. To make matters
even worse, on many occasions they are
enveloped in a misty and profound
ignorance as to what is really going on
out there in the field of battle-or
anywhere in the world beyond the
confines of Philadelphia, for that matter.
And the money problems, both of the men
themselves and of the republic they
seek to serve, are seemingly endless and
are nearly always threatening to
overwhelm.
Money is an especially important theme
in this particular volume. From one
end of this book to the other, there is
a veritable chorus of voices singing the
same song: "The Situation of our
Finnances yet remains distressing, and
seems the true Cause to which every
other Difficulty & Embarrassment may be
traced" (p. 16). So wrote the
president of Congress, Samuel Huntington of
Connecticut, in early September, 1780.
So echoed James Lovell of Massachu-
setts in February of the following year:
"Our Prospects as to Money do not
brighten" (p. 688). It must have
been somewhat difficult for a generation
brought up on the old notion that
"The love of money is the root of all evil" to
find itself now subscribing so thorough goingly to a
form of economic deter-
minism that would explain either their
nation's very survival or its destruction.
But their words make it clear that
Ezekiel Cornell, John Hanson, John
Sullivan, Theodorick Bland, Jr.,
Whitmell Hill, James Duane, and company
are now learning some hard lessons about
what might be termed the economic
basis of politics. For his part, James
Madison of Virginia chimes in: "The want