Our Founding Fathers and the Death Penalty

Yesterday, the State of Georgia executed convicted murderer, Troy Davis after the U.S. Supreme Court denied his request for a stay on his execution. And though I don't know all the specifics of his case, I know that it was supposedly somewhat controversial.

Now, whether Mr. Davis is guilty of the murder or not is not the purpose of this post, nor is it my intention to debate the death penalty here today. But yesterday's execution did make me wonder what (if anything) our Founding Fathers thought of capital punishment. Of course, we all recognize that 18th century America (and the world at large) was far different in terms of how punishment for criminals was carried out. Everything from whippings, beatings, beheadings, being placed in the stocks, etc. were seen as standard operating procedure for much of colonial America. We also know that General George Washington and many of his fellow army commanders regularly carried out executions of soldiers for a variety of offenses that many today would be horrified to see carried out.

And then there's the good ol' 8th Amendment. Perhaps more so than any other clause in the Constitution, the 8th Amendment's protection against "cruel and unusual punishment" is more clearly affected by societal change than any other amendment in the Constitution. After all, the very nature of the phrase "cruel and unusual" appeals to evolving societal standards. What we consider to be "cruel" or "unusual" today was seen as routine and just to our forefathers.

And to be 100% certain, it is not the role of the historian to pass judgement on what a society deemed to be acceptable/unacceptable. By no means do I wish to sound as though we of the modern era are somehow too sophisticated for the "savagery" of our less-than-civil ancestors. Instead, it is our role to simply understand the meat and potatoes of why people of the past did what they did, objectively and free from prejudice.

To accomplish this, I offer three unique takes on the death penalty from three different founders. Of course, these three voices hardly sum up the sentiments of an entire continent but I do believe they help to illustrate the conflict which some colonial Americans faced with regards to the death penalty.

First up is Thomas Jefferson. In a letter to his friend Edward Pendleton, Jefferson clearly reveals his "black or white" personality. Being the passionate idealist that he was, Jefferson rarely saw or embraced the "grey area" of any argument, and his sentiments regarding the death penalty pretty much fall in line with how Jefferson saw the world.

The fantastical idea of virtue and the public good being a sufficient security to the state against the commission of crimes, which you say you have heard insisted on by some, I assure you was never mine. It is only the sanguinary hue of our penal laws which I meant to object to. Punishments I know are necessary, and I would provide them, strict and inflexible, but proportioned to the crime. Death might be inflicted for murder and perhaps for treason if you would take out of the description of treason all crimes which are not such in their nature. Rape, buggery &c. punish by castration. All other crimes by working on high roads, rivers, gallies &c. a certain time proportioned to the offence. But as this would be no punishment or change of condition to slaves (me miserum!) let them be sent to other countries. By these means we should be freed from the wickedness of the latter, and the former would be living monuments of public vengeance. Laws thus proportionate and mild should never be dispensed with. Let mercy be the character of the law-giver, but let the judge be a mere machine. The mercies of the law will be dispensed equally and impartially to every description of men; those of the judge, or of the executive power, will be the eccentric impulses of whimsical, capricious designing man.

(Thomas Jefferson to Edward Pendleton, August 26, 1776).In contrast, Jefferson's friend Benjamin Rush adopted a far more forgiving approach to the punishment of criminals. For Rush, there was ZERO justification for the taking of another's life, regardless of the severity of the crime committed. In an essay on punishing murder by death, Rush writes:

I. Every man possesses an absolute power over his own liberty and property, but not over his own life. When he becomes a member of political society, he commits the disposal of his liberty and property to his fellow citizens; but as he has no right to dispose of his life, he cannot commit the power over it to any body of men. To take away life, therefore, for any crime, is a violation of the first political compact.

II. The punishment of murder by death, is contrary to reason, and to the order and happiness of society.

III. The punishment of murder by death, is contrary to divine revelation. A religion which commands us to forgive and even to do good to our enemies, can never authorise the punishment of murder by death. "Vengeance is mine," said the Lord; "I will repay." It is to no purpose to say here, that this vengeance is taken out of the hands of an individual, and directed against the criminal by the hand of government. It is equally an usurpation of the prerogative of heaven, whether it be inflicted by a single person, or by a whole community.

***I simply referenced Rush's 3 main bullets. I recommend reading his entire essay which can be found on the link above.***And then there's James Wilson's views on capital punishment. For Wilson, the death penalty is fine and dandy, but unlikely due to the fact that (in his mind) juries will reluctantly hand out severe punishments due to the human nature to want to forgive. As a result, Wilson recommended mild punishments for all crimes in the belief that criminals would be deterred due to the fact that juries would be more likely to convict. As he stated to a Grand Jury in 1791:

We are told by some writers, that the number of crimes is unquestionably diminished by the severity of punishments. If we inspect the greatest part of the criminal codes; their unwieldy bulk and their ensanguined hue will force us to acknowledge, that this opinion may plead, in its favour, a very high antiquity, and a very extensive reception. On accurate and unbiassed examination, however, it will appear to be an opinion unfounded and pernicious, inconsistent with the principles of our nature, and, by a necessary consequence, with those of wise and good government.

So far as any sentiment of generous sympathy is suffered, by a merciless code, to remain among the citizens, their abhorrence of crimes is, by the barbarous exhibitions of human agony, sunk in their commiseration of criminals. These barbarous exhibitions are productive of another bad effect--a latent and gradual, but a powerful, because a natural, aversion to the laws. Can laws, which are a natural and a just object of aversion, receive a cheerful obedience, or secure a regular and uniform execution? The expectation is forbidden by some of the strongest principles in the human frame. Such laws, while they excite the compassion of society for those who suffer, rouse its indignation against those who are active in the steps preparatory to their sufferings.

We may easily conjecture the result of those combined emotions, operating vigorously in concert. The criminal will, probably, be dismissed without prosecution by those whom he has injured. If prosecuted and tried, the jury will probably find, or think they find, some decent ground, on which they may be justified, or at least excused, in giving a verdict of acquittal. If convicted, the judges will, with avidity, receive and support every, the nicest exception to the proceedings against him; and, if all other things should fail, will have recourse to the last expedient within their reach for exempting him from rigorous punishment--that of recommending him to the mercy of the pardoning power. In this manner, the acerbity of punishment deadens the execution of the law.

The criminal, pardoned, repeats the crime, under the expectation that the impunity also will be repeated. The habits of vice and depravity are gradually formed within him. Those habits acquire, by exercise, continued accessions of strength and inveteracy. In the progress of his career, he is led to engage in some desperate attempt. From one desperate attempt he boldly proceeds to another, till, at last, he necessarily becomes the victim of that preposterous rigour, which repeated impunity had taught him to despise, because it had persuaded him that he might always escape.

When, on the other hand, punishments are moderate and mild, every one will, from a sense of interest and of duty, take his proper part in detecting, in exposing, in trying, and in passing sentence on crimes. The consequence will be, that criminals will seldom elude the vigilance, or baffle the energy, of publick justice.

So were the founders as divided on the issue of the death penalty as we are today? Perhaps. At least some of our founders felt uneasy or even morally motivated at the thought of capital punishment. But again, those were different times. For example, the Crimes Act of 1790 mandated execution for treason and required the mutilation of the corpse. Public flogging were a weekly occurrence and even charges of counterfeit could end in one's execution. As evidenced in the U.S. Coinage Act of 1792:

Section 19. And be it further enacted, That if any of the
gold or silver coins which shall be struck or coined at the said mint shall be
debased or made worse as to the proportion of the fine gold or fine silver
therein contained, or shall be of less weight or value than the same out to be
pursuant to the directions of this act, through the default or with the
connivance of any of the officers or persons who shall be employed at the said
mint, for the purpose of profit or gain, or otherwise with a fraudulent intent,
and if any of the said officers or persons shall embezzle any of the metals
which shall at any time be committed to their charge for the purpose of being
coined, or any of the coins which shall be struck or coined at the said mint,
every such officer or person who shall commit any or either of the said
offenses, shall be deemed guilty of felony, and shall suffer death.

Different strokes for different folks I suppose.

Doc Holliday's Grave ("I'm your Huckleberry")

"You're no daisy...you're no daisy at all"

This weekend, my family took a brief trip to my home town (Grand Junction, Co) to see friends and family. During that trip, we decided to stop off in Glenwood Springs to pay a visit to a legend.

In the late 1800s, renowned gunman/gambler/dentist/scholar/drinker John "Doc" Holliday traveled to Glenwood Springs, Co. in the hopes that the air and hot springs would help to alleviate his severe case of tuberculosis. Sadly, Mr. Holliday did not find the relief he was looking for. He died and was buried on November 8, 1887.

Doc Holliday, who was originally born and raised in Georgia, was a southern gentleman who benefited greatly from both a generous family and a keen intellect. As a young boy, Holliday was given a strong classical education that centered on math, philosophy, rhetoric, grammar, Latin, French and literature. In addition, Holliday studied dentistry in Philadelphia, after which he returned to Georgia to begin a short but successful practice. With his education and family name behind him, Holliday was, by all accounts, the quintessential post-Civil War southern gentleman of his era. In fact, his cousin, Margaret Mitchell, allegedly used Doc Holliday as the inspiration for the character Ashley Wilkes in her little, tiny book she called Gone With the Wind.

Sadly (or perhaps thankfully depending upon your persuasion), fate would have a different path for the "good doctor." After contracting tuberculosis, Holliday found it hard to continue his dental practice. After all, who wants a sick doctor coughing into their mouth! In addition, Holliday discovered that he had both a gift and a love for a completely different art form: GAMBLING!

Of course Holliday is better known for his friendship with Wyatt Earp and his alleged prowess with a firearm. Legend (and I emphasize the word LEGEND) has it that Holliday was as fast, if not faster, than Wild Bill Hickok with a gun. And then of course there's the story of the OK Corral, where Holliday shot and killed Tom McLaury (one of his small handful of confirmed kills...and no, Holliday did NOT kill Johnny Ringo).

Anyway, years after his escapades with his buddy Wyatt Earp (though they were not as good of friends as many make them out to be) Holliday succumbed to his tuberculosis and died at the age of 36. Here are a few pics of our trip to his grave:

As you can see from this stone, this site is a MEMORIAL and not Holliday's actual grave. This will be discussed in more detail a little bit later.

Here you see that some guests have placed a few deck of cards (a royal flush no less) on Holliday's grave...an obvious tribute to his love of gambling.

As I mentioned before, the publicized memorial is NOT the actual resting place of Doc Holliday. In fact, there has been some speculation over the years as to the exact place where Holliday was buried. Some state that the ground was too frozen in November of 1887 to bury him at all and that he was placed in either a temporary grave and later moved, or that he wasn't buried at all, but later transported to Georgia where he was buried by family. Both theories hold very little water, as it has been proven that several burials took place around the same time as Doc's death. In addition, no record (or story) exists to support the allegation that Holliday was taken home to Georgia and buried there. In fact, most evidence suggests that Holliday was buried at the location of the following picture (located just a few feet from the memorial):

It is believed that this stone, which bears the marks "XXX" is the actual grave of Doc Holliday. Not only does the stone sit close to the location of his memorial but it also at one time carried an attached stone (that fit into the hole at the top) with an inscription that read "Died in his bed" and the exact dates of Holliday's birth and death. The "XXX" stone was meant to be a temporary marker, which was obviously never replaced. In addition, local spectators at the burial have long claimed that Holliday was buried at this location.

Here is a short video of our trip to Holliday's grave:


And finally, for your viewing pleasure, one of my favorite Doc Holliday clips from the movie Tombstone:



And yes, Doc Holliday really did use the expression "I'm your Huckleberry", which in his day meant, "I'll be your dance partner", but obviously was used by Holliday to signify that he'd be more than willing to fight.

Bonnie and Clyde's Final Stand

A rare video of Bonnie Parker and Clyde Barrow taken moments after their fatal encounter with law enforcement. Taken May 23, 1934:



Lacking modern apprehension techniques, and considering the fact that Barrow had already killed nine law enforcement officers in a two-year period, it is understandable why so much force was used.

The Leo Frank Fiasco

***Cross-posted at Beyond the Badge***

Who Killed
Mary Phagan?

As horrible as it may sound to say, murder cases seem like a dime a dozen these days. A whole slew of real life crime shows have a veritably endless supply of murder cases at their disposal, making these programs some of the most popular shows on television today.

Despite the obvious fanfare and obsession that some have for terrible acts of violence, every once in a while a crime will come along that tears at the heartstrings of American society and invokes powerful emotions of anger, sadness, revenge, etc. Cases ranging from the Lindbergh Kidnapping of the early 1930s to the JonBenet Ramsey case in the 1990s have been catapulted to international attention, often causing extreme reactions from anxious onlookers.

But when it comes to high profile murders, there is perhaps no case that is more dramatic than that of Mary Phagan. Though on the surface she may appear like any other average thirteen-year-old girl, her murder was anything but, for it invoked passionate feelings that stretched far beyond Phagan's relatively simple and uneventful life. Lingering racial, religious and social tensions came into play in such a way that eventually elevated the Phagan murder to national attention. Or as one documentary of the case put it:

Considered one of the most sensational trials of the early 20th century, [the Phagan murder] seemed to press every hot-button issue of the time: North vs. South, black vs. white, Jew vs. Christian, industrial vs. agrarian. In the years since, it has inspired numerous books and films, TV programs, plays, musicals and songs. It has fueled legal discussions, spawned a traveling exhibition and driven public forums.

But all public notoriety aside, the Phagan murder (like any murder) boils down to the fundamental reality that a young woman's life was prematurely ended because somebody chose to end it. As a result, the demands of justice require society to uncover the "who" and "why."

As is the case with any violent crime, victimology (the studying of victims and their life patterns) takes on an incredibly important role, for it is by looking at the life, habits, risk factors, etc. of victims that investigators are able to narrow down the list of possible suspects. In the case of Mary Phagan, this becomes somewhat problematic, since she lived a relatively average life that was free of most major risk factors...

...except for one.

Like many children of her era, Phagan was forced to work to help provide for her mother and five siblings. During the early years of the 20th century, child labor was relatively common, especially in developing urban cities like Atlanta (where Mary Phagan grew up). The emergence of industrialization and mass production had forced many poor families to send their children into the workplace. As a result, Mary Phagan began employment at the National pencil Factory when her youthful vulnerability and inexperience could easily be exploited.

It was at this pencil factory that Mary Phagan encountered a diverse assortment of employees. Everyone from poor children (like herself), immigrant Jews and African Americans still trying to make a living for themselves and their families in the post-Civil War south were thrown together in the emerging industrialized workplace of Atlanta.

The manager of the National Pencil Factory was a young Jewish American named Leo Frank. Frank, who had graduated from Cornell University and worked a number of apprenticeships in pencil manufacturing, had established himself as a relatively stable member of the "jet set" community. Contrary to what many may think, a large portion of the Jewish community in the south experienced a good deal of success and social prestige during the early years of the 20th century. Many Jewish shop owners, merchants, etc. rose to prominence in southern society where their beliefs and practices were at least tolerated by their Christian neighbors. However, the further influx of Jewish immigrants to the south helped to fuel the bias of many "traditional" southerners. For Leo Frank, Atlanta (and much of the south in general) was teetering on the balance beam of social and racial strife. All that was needed was a spark to ignite an inferno.

The spark came on April 27, 1913, when Mary Phagan's dead and beaten body was found in the basement of the National Pencil Factory. Police were summoned to the factory when Newt Lee, a night watchman at the factory, reported finding a body of a deceased female. Phagan had apparently been strangled, raped and discarded in the dirt and mud of the basement. In addition, police discovered two handwritten notes neatly placed on Phagan's body, a pile of fresh excrement underneath the elevator, a small piece of cord and a large number of bloody fingerprints. Despite finding this treasure trove of evidence, investigators demonstrated almost complete incompetence in the processing of the scene. Every single bloody fingerprint was lost while other trace evidence was never collected. In fact, police actually loaned out many pieces of collected evidence (clothes, photos, etc.) to local reporters, some of it never to be returned. Newt Lee, who was the first to report the crime, was immediately imprisoned and kept under lock and key for over four months without ever being charged. In short, the police proved to be almost entirely unreliable.

In the immediate aftermath of the murder, police focused their attention on several factory employees, including the manager Leo Frank who accompanied police to the factory on the night Phagan's body was discovered. According to police, Frank appeared extremely nervous and was visibly shaken when asked to return to the factory. As one investigator would later testify:

Mrs. Frank came to the door; she had on a bathrobe. I stated that I would like to see Mr. Frank and about that time Mr. Frank stepped out from behind a curtain. Frank's voice was hoarse and trembling and nervous and excited. He looked to me like he was pale. He seemed nervous in handling his collar; he could not get his tie tied, and talked very rapid in asking what had happened. He kept insisting on a cup of coffee.

For many, Frank's nervousness was a clear sign of guilt, while for others it was simply the normal reaction of a man who had been awaken in the middle of the night by police and asked to accompany them to a murder scene. Either way, Frank's demeanor at the time was eventually used against him as "evidence" of his guilt (Click here for source material).

In addition to Frank, a factory janitor by the name of Jim Conley was also suspected of being involved in the murder. Conley, an African American, had been working the night of Phagan's murder and had also behaved strangely. At least two employees claimed that they saw him washing a shirt (which appeared to be covered in blood) that Conley claimed was dirty from cleaning the basement. In addition, Conley, while in a drunken stupor, allegedly told a friend (on the night of the murder) that he had "already killed one person for money" and "didn't want to kill another." When interviewed by police, however, Conley insisted that he wasn't at work, was illiterate and that he never knew Mary Phagan. However, Conley was forced to change his story when confronted with conflicting evidence. Police were able to prove that Conley had in fact been working the night of the murder and had known Phagan.

In addition, the most damning hole punched in Conley's story was his alleged illiteracy. Despite his claim, cops were able to prove that Conley was not only literate but had, in fact, penned the two notes found on Mary Phagan's body (click here to see the notes). Several handwriting experts were able to prove that Conley had written the notes. These notes (which were allegedly written by Mary Phagan as she was being murdered) essentially stated that "a long tall negro black" was responsible for the killing.

Faced with the truth, Conley concocted a new, sensational story in which he was forced by Leo Frank to write the notes. In addition, Conley told investigators that Frank had summoned Mary Phagan to his office and had told Conley to essentially stand guard outside while Frank conversed with Phagan. Conley then stated that Frank, who was visibly shaking and sweating, informed Conley that he had killed Phagan. Frank then allegedly ordered Conley to dispense with the body in the basement furnace. Police, however, found several problems with the story. If Frank had wanted the body burned then what was the point of placing notes on her body? In addition, a fresh pile of excrement had been found at the base of the elevator. If Conley had taken the body down via the elevator (as he claimed) why was the excrement untouched? Despite these obvious lies, police actually seemed to side with Conley. They believed that Frank held enough pull as a manager to make Conley conspire to such a cover up. Ignoring the obvious holes and downright lies in his story, investigators essentially embraced Conley's story and eventually made him their key witness against Frank.

On May 23, just short of a month after the murder, Leo Frank was indicted for the murder of Mary Phagan. The grand jury, which included 5 Jewish participants, only needed 10 minutes to indict Frank, claiming that "clear evidence" of Frank's guilt made the decision an easy one. Of course most of this "clear evidence" came from the "reliable" mouth of Jim Conley.

At trial, Frank's attorney's relied heavily on Frank's alibi, which they believed clearly exonerated their client. For the defense, the timeline of events leading up to Phagan's death made it impossible for Frank to have been involved in the murder. In addition, Frank's attorneys clearly chose to play the race card. And while it's understandable that the defense would want to pass guilt to Jim Conley, the racial bit was an obvious response to the already mounting antisemitism surrounding the trial. Unfortunately for Frank, the trial had become a public circus in which race and religion became more important than the actual case (I will discuss the social impact of the trial in part II). So when the defense made statements like, "A dirty, filthy, black, drunken, lying nigger is behind this" it's clear that even Frank's attorneys were feeling the mounting social tension.

In addition to calling on Jim Conley, the prosecution also relied on the testimony of several factory employees who claimed that Frank had made advances towards Phagan in the past. And while the validity of such testimonies are difficult to prove/disprove, it's important to note that many of these "testimonies" had been initially taken by investigators who had given these witnesses an abundance of liquor during questioning.

To make a long story short, Leo Frank was eventually found guilty, primarily because of the "expert" testimony of Jim Conley. The following day, Frank was sentenced to hang for the crime but the sentence of death was eventually commuted by Governor John Slaton (more on this coming in part II). The governor's decision set off a massive response of anger and hostility from those who were convinced that Frank was guilty. As a result, Frank was eventually kidnapped from the jail in which he was housed and lynched by the mob (the only recorded lynching of a Jew). Included in the mob was a former governor, mayor, 3 lawyers and several of Frank's co-workers. Frank's final words were, "I think more of my wife and my mother than I do of my own life."

The Leo Frank fiasco is virtually a textbook example of the criminal justice system gone terribly wrong. The combination of inept police investigators, biased prosecutors, a pathetic defense and the obvious influence of mounting mob anger gave Leo Frank zero chance at a fair trial. And whether or not you believe Frank to be guilty there can be no doubt that the man's trial was a fiasco. By the rules of law, evidence, etc. Frank never should have even seen the inside of the courtroom.

As for Jim Conley, who many feel was the true killer, he received only 1 year on a chain gang for his part in the cover up. In addition, it's worth noting that a former factory worker named Alonzo Mann stated that he saw Conley alone at the factory (Frank had gone home) and that it was Conley who disposed of the body and threatened to kill Mann if he talked. Conley's lawyer also later stated that Conley was "obviously guilty."

Sex Crimes in Early America

How Gender Relations and Patriarchal
Dominance Established Criminal Precedent

Being that early colonial America is my favorite era to study, and law enforcement has been my primary career path, I have always been interested in the role that crime and law enforcement had during this period. As a result, I occasionally enjoy reading a book on the topic from time to time.

One of the most recent works that I have read on the history of crime in early America is Sharon Block’s Rape & Sexual Power in Early America, which was published in 2006 by the University of North Carolina Press. In the book, Block discusses the origins, evolution and perception of sex and gender relationships during the earliest years of American colonization and revolution. Naturally, the ideas and motivations behind sexual activity in the 17th and 18th centuries were greatly influenced by the religious beliefs of those eras, which is why they are often so hard to research. Yet despite these difficulties, Block presents a thorough overview of this often ignored topic.

As is the case with all sexual crime, power and control lay at the heart of the matter. In the early years of American society, however, sexual crimes such as rape and incest were routinely seen as crimes of unbridled lust and passion, in which the perpetrator was unable to bridle his desires. To make matters worse, women were regularly labeled as being the instigators of these vile acts while the men were seen as the helpless bystanders, unable to withstand the seduction of their victims. As Block states:

Although Americans wrote surprisingly frequently about rape, it remained a difficult crime to charge and to successfully prove. Early Americans often saw the violence of forced sex as an unfortunate result of sexual desire rather than the original intent of the sexual act. Passions – understood as strong feelings or emotions – remained an explanation for sexual desires into the nineteenth century, as their meaning moved from a primarily religious focus to one that combined religious and secular concerns. As a result of passions, sexual coercion was less an aberrant act of violent sexual force than an extension of normative sexual practices. A rape might begin with voluntary social or sexual offers and end with the aggressor attempting to continue normal social relations after the rape. Contrary to modern expectations, physical force did not provide a clear dividing line between coercion and consent. Consensual sex could be physically forceful (17).

Or in other words, instead of the modern understanding that "no means no," in colonial America it actually meant, “pursue even harder.”

One of the central themes to Block’s work, which is essential to understanding sexual activity in early America, is the issue of gender relations. As Block points out, gender relations of the 17th and 18th centuries were directly tied to the patriarchal nature of religion and government. The church, which castigated women as being frivolous and undomesticated in their sexuality, placed the “evils” of sexual relations primarily on the shoulders of women. As a result, victims of rape were regularly chastised by church authorities for being too flamboyant and inviting with their sexuality. Or in other words, the women were simply “asking for it.” In addition, men were seen as the “custodians” of sex, since they could be trusted with exercising it in an "appropriate" manner. As a result, this type of “authority” became the ideal breeding ground for manipulation and domination that enticed even the most reserved predator:

Some men used an array of social interactions as a springboard for sexual relations. Those forms of sexual coercion differed greatly from the archetypal stranger rape committed through brute force and grave bodily threat. Neighbors in small communities might use their everyday social relations to create opportunities for sexual force or read inappropriate socializing as evidence of a woman’s consent to subsequent sexual relations. (77).

As can be imagined, this type of gender relationship gave way to patriarchal dominance that permeated virtually every social encounter between man and woman. Whether in friendship, courtship or marriage, men could find a justification for their sexual desires.

Ethical and moral issues, like the ones brought up by Block, are difficult to discuss to say the least, but they are imperative if we hope to better understand the history of whatever era we hope to study. Understanding the criminal aspects of a society, along with what that particular society deemed to be acceptable and unacceptable behavior, can help historians take a moral “pulse” on the past. In addition, it helps us to sift through the abundance of moral rhetoric to uncover the fragments of ethical behavior that past societies actually cherished and exhaled as being protected by God and the law. For these reasons, Sharon Block’s Rape & Sexual Power in Early America receives an A in my grade book.