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The visionary voice who helped shape American Judaism—and Charleston’s cultural soul.

Isaac Harby of Charleston, 1788–1828 is a richly detailed biography that brings to life one of early America’s most fascinating and underappreciated Jewish intellectuals. Gary Phillip Zola offers a compelling portrait of Harby—a playwright, newspaper editor, drama critic, educator, and religious reformer—who emerged as a central figure in Charleston’s vibrant cultural scene during the early 19th century. At a time when Charleston was experiencing both economic prosperity and cultural efflorescence, Harby stood at the crossroads of literary ambition and religious innovation.

A descendant of Sephardic Jews, Harby was deeply engaged in the intellectual and civic life of his city. He founded a literary journal at just eighteen, established a private academy, and wrote prolifically on politics, education, and religion. But his most enduring legacy lies in his role as a pioneer of Reform Judaism in America. As a founding member of the Reformed Society of Israelites in 1825, Harby advocated for a rational, modernized approach to Jewish worship—one that emphasized universal ethics and intellectual engagement over ritual formalism. His efforts, though controversial in his time, laid the groundwork for the broader Reform movement that would flourish later in the century.

Drawing on newly uncovered archival materials, including Harby’s personal library and writings, Zola’s biography not only illuminates Harby’s life and thought but also offers a window into the broader cultural, religious, and political transformations of the early American republic. This book is essential reading for anyone interested in American Jewish history, Southern intellectual life, and the roots of religious reform in the United States.

An interdisciplinary excavation of colonoware as a material archive of African, Indigenous, and colonial entanglements across the early American South.

In Materializing Colonial Identities in Clay, Jon Bernard Marcoux, Corey A. H. Sattes, and contributors examine colonoware to explore the active roles that African Americans and Indigenous people played in constructing southern colonial culture and part of their shared history with Europeans.

Colonoware was most likely produced by African and Indigenous potters and used by all colonial groups for cooking, serving, and storing food. It formed the foundation of colonial foodways in many settlements across the southeastern United States. Even so, compared with other ceramics from this period, less has been understood about its production and use because of the lack of documentation. This collection of essays fills this gap with valuable, recent archaeological data from which much may be surmised about the interaction among Europeans, Indigenous, and Africans, especially within the contexts of the African and Indigenous slave trade and plantation systems.

The chapters represent the full range of colonoware research: from the beginning to the end of its production, from urban to rural contexts, and from its intraregional variation in the Lowcountry to the broad patterns of colonialism across the early American Southeast. The book summarizes current approaches in colonoware research and how these may bridge the gaps between broader colonial American studies, Indigenous studies, and African Diaspora studies.

A concluding discussion contextualizes the chapters through the perspectives of intersectionality and Black feminist theory, drawing attention to the gendered and racialized meanings embodied in colonoware, and considering how colonialism and slavery have shaped these cultural dimensions and archaeologists’ study of them.
 

Wrestling with God, scripture, and conscience in the nineteenth‑century South

First published in 1979, Wrestlin’ Jacob offers important insights into the intersection of black and white religious history in the South. Erskine Clarke provides two arenas—one urban and one rural—that show what happened when white ministers tried to bring black slaves into the fold of Christianity. Clarke illustrates how the good intentions—and vain illusions—of the white preachers, coupled with the degradation and cultural strength of the slaves, played a significant role in the development of black churches in the South.

From 1833 to 1847, Reverend Charles Colcock Jones served as an itinerant minister to slaves on the rice and cotton plantations in Liberty County, Georgia. The aim of Jones, and of the largely Puritan-descended slave owners, was to harvest not only good Christians but also obedient and hard-working slaves. At the same time, similar efforts were under way in cosmopolitan Charleston, South Carolina. Charleston permitted blacks to worship only under the supervision of whites, and partially as a result, whites and blacks worshiped together in ways that would be unheard of later in the segregated South.

Clarke examines not only the white ministers’ motivation in their missionary work but also the slaves’ reasons for becoming a part of the church. He addresses the important issue of the continuity of African traditions with the religious life of slaves and provides a significant introduction to the larger issues of slavery and religion in the South.