As soon as World War I broke out, American citizens established an important wartime relief organization that was effective in providing refuge to child war victims from France’s northern and eastern regions. The Committee Franco-American for the Protection of the Children of the Frontier (CFAPCF), the first Franco-American response aimed at ensuring the protection of France’s children, provided financial and material assistance to rescue, shelter, heal, and educate displaced, injured, ill, and orphaned children. It collaborated with groups of nuns who ran some of the colonies, with teachers in charge of schooling and with American health experts overseeing provisions of sanitary conditions and hygiene. American women traveled to France and worked in the Franco-American colonies. In addition to caring for the children, they taught them about their friendly nation whose people were helping to ensure their survival. Running a network of colonies across France required considerable human and material resources, and the CFAPCF drew on social networks of wealthy French citizens and American expatriates eager to shield France’s children from hunger, destitution, and death. Shipments of clothing, garments, books, toys, and other gifts from the United States signaled the Americans’ mobilization to save France’s orphans.

This chapter discusses the role and nature of the historian’s work, the professionalization of the craft, and why it is essential to a free society. Influenced by the German historian Leopold von Ranke, the American Historical Association founded in 1884 embraced the scientific ideal and a mission of achieving objective truth about the past. The possibility of objectivity, however, was questioned after World War I by Carl Becker and Charles Beard and ultimately by nearly all historians. The most extreme critique came from postmodernists who argued that historians are not uncovering the past, they are inventing it. History is a form of literature. Since the 1960s, the historical discipline has acquired many other new approaches besides postmodernism. Increasingly, it has focused its attention on studying groups in society estranged from power and influence, individuals and groups previously neglected and oftentimes voiceless. New questions of culture, mentalité, and subalternity have drawn historians’ attention. Among the new categories, gender was the most prominently pursued.

The collapse of the Japanese Empire in the aftermath of World War II left a power vacuum in maritime East Asia. The United States recognised this opportunity to shape the emerging Cold War and the geopolitical landscape of the western Pacific rim. Despite the lack of consensus among decision-makers in Washington, on-site naval commanders could effectively influence the US strategy in the region. The US Navy selected Chiang Kai-shek’s Nationalist China as a local partner to assume responsibility for guarding the western Pacific rim. This decision was based not only on Chiang’s good relationship with the US Navy, which allowed it to enter China’s territorial waters and ports, but also on the belief that a pro-US Chinese navy could help secure America’s naval dominance in the region. With US military and financial support, Chiang successfully rebuilt a modern Nationalist navy. However, the ongoing power struggle between the Nationalists and the Communists made the situation unpredictable in maritime East Asia.

Was the Cold War inevitable, and who is responsible for its outbreak? This chapter argues that, as the Second World War neared its end, Joseph Stalin was shopping for a great bargain with the Allies, in keeping with Russia's realpolitik tradition. While the details of Stalin's vision remain blurry, evidence from internal Soviet deliberations in 1944–45 points to a broadly imperial, nineteenth-century, conceptualization of the Soviet role in Europe. Stalin sought both power and legitimacy, and understood that the Americans could endorse or reject his postwar claims. He could and did measure his appetites in pursuit of legitimate gains—those that had Washington’s imprimatur. Despite his efforts to achieve legitimacy at Yalta, Stalin’s hopes for a Soviet–American agreement to divide the world soon began to run aground, largely owing to his own rapacity and bad faith.

This chapter covers the story of three enslaved people who used various poisons to slowly murder their owner in colonial Massachusetts.

This chapter reveals the popular origins of the Nixon-Mao summit. It argues that people-to-people diplomacy and nonstate actors made a fundamental contribution to the beginning of Sino-American rapprochement in 1971. Private US organizations – chief among them the National Committee on US-China Relations – helped change American minds about the need for engagement with the People’s Republic of China. Thereafter, people-to-people interactions were the first means by which direct contact between China and the United States resumed—through ping-pong diplomacy but also a raft of other 1971 visits by American scientists, students, and ideologically-motivated travelers. This chapter also analyzes the impression formed of China by some of the first American visitors to the country since the Cultural Revolution. It concludes with the negotiations over the structure of the exchange program that took place between the Chinese government and US state and nonstate actors in 1971 and 1972, including during the Nixon–Mao summit of February 1972.

Chapter 1 deals with the Municipal Council of Luanda and the politics of Portuguese governors in Angola in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, detailing how the Municipal Council of Luanda was involved in illegal wars , treachery and robbery in capturing and enslaving Angolans and shipping them to Brazil on behalf of Portugal. It demonstrates how the Municipal Council of Luanda became the site of political intrigue, jealousy, deceit and mutiny in a political landscape in which the main drive was for economic gain; the enslavement of Angolans was the key part of that package. The methods deployed to capture them – wars, pillage, treachery – formed the basis for Mendonça’s Vatican court case.

The threshold principle, emphasizing territorial and population expansion, was intimately tied to ideas of white citizenship in nineteenth-century America.

In the eighteenth century, the Massachusetts House criminalized speech, and the general sessions courts prosecuted it, for being impolite as well as ungodly. Politeness became a core element of social order and elite white masculine identity. This study identified more than 1,600 criminal speech prosecutions in the records of justices and courts. These include any document that specified verbal threats or abuse; profane cursing or swearing; verbal noise; lying; false reports; defamatory speech; or perjury. Criminal procedure was simple and discretionary, and required widespread community participation in order to effectively prosecute impolite speech. Such prosecutions helped to define elite identity and status around matrices of sensibility, civility, and credibility. Sensibility was a moral and genteel quality not manifested by those prosecuted for noisy or abusive speech. Civility connoted pleasurable sociability that was undermined by contempt, cursing, and defamation. Credibility was the gentlemanly reputation for truthfulness, destroyed by lying, perjury, false news, and mumpers (pretended gentlemen). The Revolution replaced this regime with one based on respectability.

Chapter One emphasizes the relationship between English property law and slavery. I follow colonists as they sought to classify slaves as property, and as they deployed their knowledge of English property law on a daily basis to manage slaves. Fitting slaves into an extant legal system that bifurcated property into real estate or chattels personal was an act with long-term practical consequences. American colonists – including those beyond plantation America – understood that each particular category unlocked different ways of proceeding at law that impacted their ability to buy and sell slaves and to shield them from creditors. Building upon customary practice in the transatlantic slave trade, South Carolina colonists treated enslaved people as chattel property, at first by custom and later via statute. Whereas most plantation colonies settled upon some mixture of chattel and real property when they determined how to classify their slaves, South Carolina colonists ultimately adopted pure chattel slavery in order to facilitate commercial transactions involving enslaved people and to expand their credit with British merchants. Treating slaves as a chattel property was economically beneficial for South Carolinians, but it had far-reaching cultural implications. Through close readings of legal forms, including marriage settlements, trusts, and wills, I also watch small acts of legal transformation, moments in which colonists analogized slaves to things. In these acts of legal transmutation, South Carolina colonists compared enslaved people to livestock and other valuable moveable objects, not because they believed them to be the same as those objects, but because they believed them to be the same at law.