December 1964

Bronson Alcott and his transcendental friends hardly ever stopped talking. It left almost no time for mundane things like food and shelter

A memoir by a fellow artist who watched the genesis of a favorite American historical painting clarifies

When it was raining porridge, Lucy Rockefeller said, John D.’s dish was always right side up

Before condemning the ingratitude of our foreign-aid clients, consider the lamentable plight of those earlier foreigners who invested in an underdeveloped America

To men and women adrift in a changing society and caught in the Depression’ whirlpool, Francis R. Townsend held out the welcome hand of a savior

In vivid paintings and prose a professional army officer recorded a career that spanned nearly forty years and mirrored the history of the American West

Not all the Hessians taken prisoner at Saratoga were soldiers, nor were all of them men. There was also, with her three small daughers,

They had sent King Charles to the scaffold without remorse. Now they were fugitives in New England with a big price on their heads

So roared Captain Isaac Hull as Old Ironsides closed in mortal combat with the British frigate Guerrière. On the accuracy of his prediction hung all of America’s naval prestige in 1812