When Benjamin Franklin flew his kite in a thunderstorm in his famous experiment, his illegitimate son William was his only companion. Together they traveled through the western wilds of Pennsylvania during the French and Indian War, fought in the colony's fractious political battles. Ben helped his son attain the post of Royal Governor of New Jersey, and William's government hired Ben to represent the colony in London. But when war came, father and son were split: one acclaimed as a patriot hero, the other a loyalist condemned by his countrymen.
In William Franklin, Sheila Skemp tells the story of this fascinating and complex man, a man with a foot in both worlds--he loved both King and country, and saw the interests of both as inextricably intertwined. She follows William's early years as a militia officer in the wars with the French, his life as a law student in England, and his long tenure as Royal Governor of New Jersey. Skemp highlights the close personal and political relationship between father and son, depicting such ironic episodes as William's defense of his father against charges that Ben was the author of the infamous Stamp Act. But as the years passed, Ben, in London, grew increasingly bitter toward the Crown, while William, in America, remained devoted to the King. By the time war came, their loyalties were divided, their relationship destroyed.
Skemp traces William's career through the tumult of revolution and exile. Refusing to follow his fellow royal governors into asylum, he was arrested by the patriots and jailed; his wife soon died, and his property was confiscated. Upon release, William became president of the Board of Associated Loyalists in New York, where--neglected by the British and despised by the revolutionaries--he authorized one of the most notorious atrocities of the war, the hanging of Joshua Huddy. At war's end, Franklin fled into exile in England, hated by his countrymen, and disowned by the father he still venerated, and even loved.
Sweeping and authoritative, William Franklin captures some of the great issues and personalities of the Revolutionary era, and the bitterness of a family split between father and son, patriot and loyalist.

Judith Sargent Murray (1751-1820), poet, essayist, playwright, and one of the most thoroughgoing advocates of women's rights in early America, was as well known in her own day as Abigail Adams or Martha Washington. Her name, though, has virtually disappeared from the public consciousness. Thanks to the recent discovery of Murray's papers-including some 2,500 personal letters-historian Sheila L. Skemp has documented the compelling story of this talented and most unusual eighteenth-century woman. Born in Gloucester, Massachussetts, Murray moved to Boston in 1793 with her second husband, Universalist minister John Murray. There she became part of the city's literary scene. Two of her plays were performed at Federal Street Theater, making her the first American woman to have a play produced in Boston. There as well she wrote and published her magnum opus, The Gleaner, a three-volume "miscellany" that included poems, essays, and the novel-like story "Margaretta." After 1800, Murray's output diminished and her hopes for literary renown faded. Suffering from the backlash against women's rights that had begun to permeate American society, struggling with economic difficulties, and concerned about providing the best possible education for her daughter, she devoted little time to writing. But while her efforts diminished, they never ceased. Murray was determined to transcend the boundaries that limited women of her era and worked tirelessly to have women granted the same right to the "pursuit of happiness" immortalized in the Declaration of Independence. She questioned the meaning of gender itself, emphasizing the human qualities men and women shared, arguing that the apparent distinctions were the consequence of nurture, not nature. Although she was disappointed in the results of her efforts, Murray nevertheless left a rich intellectual and literary legacy, in which she challenged the new nation to fulfill its promise of equality to all citizens.

This volume of papers from the Porter M. Fortune Chancellor's Symposium in Southern History held at the University of Mississippi in 1986 questions what was distinctively "southern" about the colonial South. Though this region was a land of diversity and had the kind of provincialism that typified other English colonies during this period, the editors find it nearly impossible to characterize the colonial South as unique.

The roots of southern distinctiveness, however, were taking hold in the years before the American Revolution, as the papers here attest. In the opening essay Tate surveys recent historical scholarship on the period and targets trends for further study. Next, Galloway examines Indian-French relations in eastern Louisiana during the eighteenth century. Smith describes the family unit and examines the various forces that worked against its formation.

In an examination of three slave-owning families, Morgan casts a new light on slavery in the colonies which he argues to have operated within a harsh patriarchal system that stressed domination, "order, authority, and unswerving obedience." Menard's essay also is on the subject of slavery, showing the unique system in the Low Country of South Carolina. In the final paper Middlekauff assesses each of the preceding papers and suggests subjects for future studies of the colonial South.

This collection of six conference papers from the Eighth Annual Chancellor's Symposium in Southern History, held in 1982 at the University of Mississippi, seeks to assess the relationship of southern women in a world complicated by racial and class antagonisms.

Modernization and urbanization in the north made women's culture more nearly autonomous in that region. This led to the development of a greater sense of self-worth and a heightened militancy in northern women. Southern sisters, both black and white, have existed in far more restrictive roles than their northern counterparts.