Charlotte S. Waisman and Jill S. Tietjen's Her Story: A Timeline of the Women Who Changed America is like a slideshow of American women's history. Pictures and photographs along with short captions document women who've excelled in areas of American culture, including science, politics, business, entertainment and sports. The ones we all know from history class (Pocahontas) and popular culture (Oprah Winfrey) are here. Many are lesser known but no less interesting; for example, Sister Rose Thering, who was instrumental in the Vatican's repeal of its policy of holding Jews responsible for the crucifixion. One fascinating set of photographs shows a Boston Marathon official trying to tear off K. Switzer's race number when he realizes the "K" stands for Kathrine (in 1967 Switzer became the first woman to officially enter and run in the event). With more than 900 women profiled, this book is a perfect addition to any library: public, school, college or personal.

Woman warriors

Rosalind Miles and Robin Cross quickly disabuse readers of the notion that women's participation in combat is a relatively new phenomenon in Hell Hath No Fury: True Stories of Women at War from Antiquity to Iraq. This encyclopedic collection of short, incisive essays is convincing in its portrayal of women as anything but "the gentle sex." Miles and Cross divide the book into sections, which show the various ways women have participated in war throughout the centuries. We have the rulers, such as Elizabeth I and Indira Gandhi. There are the women who have served as nurses and doctors, and there are the "recording angels," such as Christiane Amanpour and Tokyo Rose, the famous World War II-era propagandist for the Japanese. And there are those who fought in wars as men, only to be revealed as women after their deaths.

In fact, women have been as strategic, as wily and even as cruel as men when facing their opposition. One section deals with what Miles and Cross call the "ruthless opportunists, sadists, and psychopaths unleashed and empowered by war." One of the more horrible examples is Nazi concentration camp guard Hermine Braunsteiner, aka the "Stamping Mare," who literally stomped elderly prisoners to death with her steel-toed boots.

Still, this collection about the noble, the fierce and the downright evil makes it clear that though there's little record of women's military feats, it's because they have been written out of history, not because they never happened.

The long struggle

At the 30th anniversary of the Seneca Falls Convention, Elizabeth Cady Stanton summarized the efforts of women's rights activists in the 19th century: "It taxes and wearies the memory to think of the conventions we have held . . . the Legislatures we have besieged, the petitions and tracts we have circulated, the speeches, the calls, the resolutions we have penned, the never ending debates we have kept up in public and private, and yet to each and all, our theme is as fresh and absorbing as it was the day we started." Using the convention as a starting point in Seneca Falls and the Origins of the Women's Rights Movement, Sally McMillen details the struggles of the women's rights movement in the 1800s, focusing on the lives of four of its leaders: Stanton, Lucretia Mott, Lucy Stone and Susan B. Anthony.

McMillen provides an in-depth picture of the movement and the remarkable dedication of these women who faced rejection after rejection in attempting to earn women the vote, basic rights to their own money and children, and higher education. This rejection came from many quarters, from male political and religious leaders as well as most women's indifference or hostility to their cause. McMillen does not shy away from the missteps women made during the struggle. Some activists, disappointed when former slaves gained the vote before them, resorted to racist tactics in their speeches and writings. At times, personal and professional jealousies hindered the cause.

Still, what comes across most clearly is their untiring commitment to women's rights. It is both an inspiring and sad story. Inspiring because these women set the nation upon a course that finally recognized women as equals. Sad when you think of the contributions that women could have made in other fields instead of working so hard to achieve rights that should have been theirs all along.

Joe Jackson begins The Thief at the End of the World: Rubber, Power, and the Seeds of Empire with an old Amazonian saying: God is great but the forest is greater. He then proves this adage by telling the tale of Henry Wickham, English adventurer, amateur botanist and "biopirate" extraordinaire. In 1876, Wickham smuggled thousands of rubber-tree seeds out of Brazil. It is a story of hubris that ultimately involved Henry Ford in one of several ill-fated attempts to tame the great Amazon forests.

Henry Wickham was a failure at most things, but he was not the sort to give up. Indeed, he would have died early in his South American adventures if his nature had been anything other than indefatigable. Jackson vividly portrays the rigors of life in the tropics, where cholera, malaria, vampire bats, electric eels and a host of other plagues make life tenuous in the best of times. As he notes of the British subjects who loyally pushed the boundaries of empire, "The things one took for granted at home – clean water, a bath, no killer fish in the tub – were luxuries out here." Wickham survived, however, finally finding himself in the right place at the right time as Britain schemed to plant its own source of rubber, a natural resource vital to modern technology.

The quest to steal the founding seeds of vast rubber plantations created a gold-rush mentality in which, as Jackson describes it, "The white milk that dribbled like blood became a mirror: In rubber's slick, obsidian surface, each man saw his need." Wickham needed a way out of the putrefaction of the jungle, and this incentive produced success that earned him a knighthood, ensured Britain's dominance and plunged Brazil into economic disaster. And as with most grand actions, the consequences echoed down through the decades, creating a litany of failed efforts to harness the wealth of the jungle, efforts that continue today in the great forests of the world.

Chris Scott writes from the temperate climate of Nashville.

In the widely praised Lincoln's Virtues, historian William Lee Miller explored Abraham Lincoln's moral choices during his ascension to power. Miller's splendid new book, President Lincoln: The Duty of a Statesman, is about, as he says, "statesmanship and moral choice in the American presidency, through an examination of the most remarkable occupant of that office."

Miller notes that Lincoln received the nomination for president due solely to his "effective presentation of the moral-political argument for the Republican position." He brought two contrasting qualities to the presidency—"profound clarity and coercive action"—that Miller views as coming from the same root, "a moral indignation that saw the immense impact on human life of these decisions and events."

Among other attributes, Lincoln's life experience led him to develop "intellectual and moral self-confidence . . . and an unusual sympathy for those in distress." This meant using deft political and military strategy that, depending on the issue at hand, alienated, at least temporarily, his own supporters. It meant, for example, that he refused to accept the views or actions of such national heroes as Gen. Winfield Scott, who saw no alternative but to surrender at Fort Sumter, or Gen. John McClellan, who had repeatedly failed to act as directed. Gen. John C. Fremont's declaration of instant emancipation of slaves belonging to disloyal Missourians was problematic because Freemont failed to consider its effect on Kentucky's position on secession.

Miller strongly disagrees with those who see the issuing of the Emancipation Proclamation as the only morally significant aspect of the Civil War. Rather than a power-political struggle before that, he says, Lincoln saw "an undertaking with vast and universal moral significance—showing that free, popular, constitutional government could maintain itself, a project that, as Lincoln said, goes down about as deep as anything." This rich and rewarding book should be enjoyed by all those interested in Lincoln or the presidency in general.

The President's Table: Two Hundred Years of Dining and Diplomacy by Barry H. Landau may be the most unusually focused historical study one could encounter: It deals with a very specific aspect of American political development namely, how the presidents ate. The book offers a fascinating retrospective in words and pictures of state dinners, public celebrations and the ubiquitous campaign fundraisers, stretching from George Washington to George W. Bush. Recognized as the foremost expert on presidential dining, Landau has amassed a collection of invitations, menus and memorabilia relating to presidential dinners during all 43 administrations exceeding even the Smithsonian's records, which only date to William McKinley's beginnings in 1897. The photographs here are meticulous and numerous, depicting everything from silk menus to campaign mementos. Such an array of invitations, cards and envelopes (among other items) could seem overwhelming were it not for Landau's accompanying text, which helps place the images within the social, political and historical contexts of their eras. The result is an interesting examination of how an event as simple as a meal can swell in significance when the president is at the table and how those same dinners can have repercussions, for good or ill, that affect a nation.

An intriguing book is Entertaining at the White House with Nancy Reagan, Peter Schifando and J. Jonathan Joseph's retrospective of the dinners and events hosted by the former president and first lady during their tenure in the executive mansion. The book is filled with photographs of monarchs, ministers, musicians and movie stars, as well as the elegantly arranged banquets that were created to entertain and honor them all. Entertaining at the White House also details the intricacies of protocol and diplomacy that go into planning, preparing and conducting even the simplest event, from deciding whom to invite (and whom not to), to honoring the cultural taboos of foreign dignitaries and their watching citizens back home. Surprisingly insightful, Schifando and Joseph's book is an alluring glimpse into the elegant and even risky world that combines diplomacy with dining.

ARCHIITECTURAL MEMORIES
Monuments: America's History in Art and Memory by Judith Dupre stands out from the other volumes here in both appearance and approach. Whereas the other books are concerned with the people, events and places of history, Monuments focuses not on the events, but on how we as a nation remember them. Duprea nd her editors have crafted an unusually striking book. The cover is made to look and feel like rough, textured stone from an ancient wall. Gaps in this wall reveal photos of monuments both familiar and obscure, inviting closer inspection the mark of any good monument.

Inside, the photos and graphical elements and even the text in places are presented in rich bronze tones, as though to echo the metal of a monument itself. Dupre's book follows a roughly chronological order, whether by a monument's historical significance or by the era of its inception, though one entry may cover a great swing of time, especially when that monument's story encompasses additions or restorations. Along the journey are side trips into details of note, or even unusual areas of recognition from a heroic dog to the almost anti-monument of a so-called potter's field, filled with the remains of the forgotten.

Although Dupre's text becomes heavy at times as she tries to define what are essentially visual and tactile experiences, when she deals with the events themselves and the process of the monuments' creation, her words are often fascinating and even moving. Reaching the end of Monuments doesn't feel like ending a journey, but the start of a desire to see for yourself what others thought should be remembered, and to discover what those remembrances evoke in you.

NO PLACE LIKE HOMES
Memorials, of course, seldom have any real attachment to the events and people being honored, save perhaps location. Far more significant in a historical sense are the actual items and places the men and women knew, used and loved none more so than the homes in which they lived and worked. Like a parade of homes, Houses of the Founding Fathers: The Men Who Made America and the Way They Lived by Hugh Howard, with photography by Roger Straus III, leads the reader on a grand tour of the houses and estates of America's founding citizens, both men and women. Filled with beautiful, detailed photographs, Houses of the Founding Fathers provides an engaging glimpse into the daily lives and aspirations of our nation's earliest leaders. Readers who appreciate architectural details, exquisite craftsmanship and elegant design will be engrossed by the lavish images, while those with a penchant for history will be equally intrigued by the stories, individuals and events that filled these magnificent homes. For both art and history, these homes are a pleasure to visit.

AMERICAN HISTORY 101
Time America: An Illustrated History by the editors of Time magazine is easily the most conventional of these five books, but no less interesting for that. The text is a readable and entertaining review of America's history from the days of Columbus' arrival to the current period. You won't come to this book for remarkable insights or in-depth research (and don't be surprised by the slight inaccuracies), but that's not the point. The words merely serve to complement the pictures, an engaging and often unusual cavalcade of images from all walks of American life, from the mundane to the momentous. Some scenes will be instantly familiar, some curiously strange and some refreshingly human, but all serve as delightful windows into our nation's past, well worth the viewing.

David Halberstam turned in the last corrections for The Coldest Winter, his study of the first eight months of the Korean War, just five days before he died in a traffic accident while en route to an interview for his next project, a book on professional football. A former New York Times reporter and one of the finest nonfiction writers of his generation, Halberstam could switch from serious issues to more light-hearted topics with apparent ease. Over the last two decades, he had alternated sports books with works on U.S. foreign policy, the civil rights movement and the firefighters of 9/11.

In his last completed book, Halberstam focuses on the beginnings of the Korean War, which became the confluence of a mass of political stirrings. Chief among these was America’s growing fear of communism, an apprehension deepened by the recent communist takeover of China. Fueling this fear was the mighty China Lobby, which believed that the Korean conflict might both dislodge the hated and distrusted Democrats from power (as it surely helped to do) and also serve as the vehicle for returning the defeated Nationalist forces of Chiang Kai-shek to mainland China. For Mao Zedong, the victor over Chiang, however, the war offered an opportunity to demonstrate that communist China had a world-class army and henceforth must be treated accordingly.

At the center of these conflicting movements stood the monstrously self-aggrandizing figure of Gen. Douglas MacArthur. Vain, racist and contemptuous of politicians particularly his commanders-in-chief MacArthur initially dismissed all the signs that the Korean conflict might escalate into a long and costly war. Not only did he keep honest intelligence to himself instead of sharing it with those who needed it most, he surrounded himself with toadies who tailored the intelligence they gathered to confirm his preconceptions. His one praiseworthy act during the war, says Halberstam, was planning and overseeing the successful landing of United Nation troops at Inchon. From there on, it was all downhill. He disparaged the possibility that China would send soldiers into Korea or that they could stand up to American firepower if they did come. He undercut his most effective commanders and promoted the least able ones. When his weaknesses became apparent, he blamed others. Finally and at great political risk to himself and his party President Harry Truman fired MacArthur.

As in his other historical works, Halberstam deftly sketches in the lives of all the major players. His most eloquent passages are about individual soldiers in combat. He follows the war in detail complete with battle maps from the North Korean invasion of South Korea on June 25, 1950, through the crucial battle for Chipyongni that ended February 15, 1951. It would be two more years before the war came to a mutually unsatisfactory draw.

Halberstam points to parallels between the defective information that needlessly doomed tens of thousands in Korea and that which precipitated later wars: “[I]t showed the extent to which the American government had begun to make fateful decisions based on the most limited of truths and the most deeply flawed intelligence in order to do what it wanted to do for political reasons, whether it would work or not. In 1965, the government of Lyndon Johnson manipulated the rationale for sending combat troops to Vietnam. . . . Then in 2003, the administration of George W. Bush . . . manipulated the Congress, the media, the public, and most dangerously of all, itself, with seriously flawed and doctored intelligence, and sent troops into the heart of Iraqi cities with disastrous results.”