Whose Revolution? Rethinking the Legacy of America’s First Generation

Joyce Appleby’s Inheriting the Revolution: The First Generation of Americans (Harvard, 2000)is an impressive work in many ways. It offers a vivid, well-researched account of the lives of the first generation born after the American Revolution, showcasing how individuals navigated the sweeping social, economic, and cultural changes of their time. Appleby draws on an array of personal writings—letters, diaries, and memoirs—to craft a compelling narrative about how ordinary Americans adapted to the ideals of independence and self-determination. It’s a book with much to recommend, especially for those interested in the lived experience of historical change.

However, the work is marred by significant limitations. Appleby’s framing leans heavily on a celebratory view of the Revolution, portraying it as a democratizing force that opened doors of opportunity. While this is partially true for some—namely, white men—this narrative obscures the darker realities of the period. Indigenous people were displaced from their lands, enslaved people faced new and often harsher forms of exploitation, and women saw little expansion of their rights. Appleby acknowledges these groups in passing, but the book largely remains focused on the beneficiaries of the Revolution’s promises.

This approach reinforces the Patriot Myth, perpetuating the idea that the Revolution was a universal triumph of freedom and opportunity. It was not. The Revolution’s contradictions—its promises of liberty set against the realities of exclusion and inequality—demand greater scrutiny than Appleby provides. The book’s choice to prioritize success stories leaves these critical complexities underexplored, perpetuating a familiar but deeply flawed narrative.

Moreover, the absence of a deeper interrogation of power and privilege weakens the work. Structural inequalities shaped the lives of the vast majority of Americans in this period, and these dynamics are central to understanding who truly inherited the Revolution and at whose expense. By focusing primarily on those who thrived, the book risks reinforcing an incomplete and exclusionary view of the post-revolutionary generation.

Despite these shortcomings, Inheriting the Revolution — now almost 25 years old, and showing its age — remains a valuable resource. It offers a rich exploration of how a generation interpreted and acted on revolutionary ideals. But to fully understand what it means to inherit the Revolution, one must move beyond the triumphalism and confront the Revolution’s failures, hypocrisies, and the legacies of exclusion it left behind. That’s the only way to grasp the true scope of the Revolution’s inheritance—and what responsibilities it carries for those who tell its stories today.

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Contested Legacy: The Memory of ‘76 and the Stakes for Public History