GIFT Or 
 JANE K.SATHER 
 
BEHIND THE SCENES. 
 
ELIZABETH KECKLEY. 
 
BEHIND THE SCENES. 
 
 BY 
 ELIZABETH KECKLEY, 
 
 FORMERLY A SLAVE, BUT MOKE RECENTLY MODISTE, AND FRIEND TO MRS. 
 ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 
 
 OK, 
 
 THIRTY YEARS A SLAVE, AND FOUR YEARS IN 
 THE WHITE HOUSE. 
 
 NEW YORK : 
 G. W. Carlcton & Co., Publishers. 
 
 M DCCO LJCVim 
 
 - 
 
104- 
 
 Entered according to Act of ongress, In the year 1868, by 
 
 ELIZABETH KECKLEY, 
 
 In the Office of the Clerk of the District Court of the United States for 
 the Southern District of Pennsylvania. 
 
 THE NEW YORK PRINTING COMPANY, 
 8 1, 83, and 85 Centre Street, 
 NEW YORK. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Preface 11 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 Where I was born 17 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 Girlhood and its Sorrows 31 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 How I gained my Freedom 43 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 In the Family of Senator Jefferson Davis 63 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 My Introduction to Mrs. Lincoln 76 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 Willie Lincoln s Death-bed 91 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 Washington in 1862-3 Ill 
 
 38363? 
 
x Contents. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 PACK 
 
 Candid Opinions 127 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 Behind the Scenes 139 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 The Second Inauguration 156 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 The Assassination of President Lincoln 178 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 Mrs. Lincoln leaves the White House 201 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 The Origin of the Rivalry between Mr. Douglas and Mr. 
 
 Lincoln 228 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 Old Friends 238 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 The Secret History of Mrs. Lincoln s Wardrobe in New 
 York . 267 
 
 Appendix Letters from Mrs. Lincoln to Mrs. Keckley.. 332 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 I HAVE 6ften been asked to write my life, as those who 
 know me know that it has been an eventful one. At last I 
 have acceded to the importunities of my friends, and 
 have hastily sketched some of the striking incidents 
 that go to make up my history. My life, so full of ro 
 mance, may sound like a dream to the matter-of-fact 
 reader, nevertheless everything I have written is strict 
 ly true ; much has been omitted, but nothing has been 
 exaggerated. In writing as I have done, I am well 
 aware that I have invited criticism ; but before the critic 
 judges harshly, let my explanation be carefully read 
 and weighed. If I have portrayed the dark side of 
 slavery, 1 also have painted the bright side. The good 
 that I have said of human servitude should be thrown 
 into the scales with the evil that I have said of it. I 
 have kind, true-hearted friends in the South as well as 
 in the North, aud I would not wound those Southern 
 
xii Preface. 
 
 friends by sweeping condemnation, simply because I 
 was once a slave. They were not so much responsible 
 for the curse under which I was born, as the God of 
 nature and the fathers who framed the Constitution for 
 the United States. The law descended to them, and it 
 was but natural that they should recognize it, since it 
 manifestly was their interest to do so. And yet a 
 wrong was inflicted upon me ; a cruel custom deprived 
 me of my liberty, and since I was robbed of my dearest 
 right, I would not have been human had I not rebelled 
 against the robbery. God rules the Universe. I was 
 a feeble instrument in His hands, and through me and 
 the enslaved millions of my race, one of the problems 
 was solved that belongs to the great problem of human 
 destiny ; and the solution was developed so gradually 
 that there was no great convulsion of the harmonies of 
 natural laws. A solemn truth was thrown to the sur 
 face, and what is better still, it was recognized as a truth 
 by those who give force to moral laws. An act may 
 be wrong, but unless the ruling power recognizes the 
 wrong, it is useless to hope for a correction of it. Priii*- 
 ciples may be right, but they are not established within 
 an hour. The masses are slow to reason, and each 
 principle, to acquire moral force, must come to us from 
 the fire of the crucible ; the fire may inflict unjust pun 
 ishment, but then it purifies and renders stronger the 
 principle, not in itself, but in the eyes of those who 
 arrogate judgment to themselves. When the war of 
 the Revolution established the independence of the 
 
Preface. xiii 
 
 American colonies, an evil was perpetuated, slavery 
 was more firmly established; and since the evil had 
 been planted, it must pass through certain stages before 
 it could be eradicated. In fact, we give but little 
 thought to the plant of evil until it grows to such mon 
 strous proportions that it overshadows important inter 
 ests ; then the efforts to destroy it become earnest. 
 As one of the victims of slavery I drank of the bitter 
 water ; but then, since destiny willed it so, and since I 
 aided in bringing a solemn truth to the surface as a 
 truth, perhaps I have no right to complain. Here, as 
 in all things pertaining to life, I can afford to be chari 
 table. 
 
 It may be charged that I have written too freely on 
 some questions, especially in regard to Mrs. Lincoln. I 
 do not think so ; at least I have been prompted by the 
 purest motive. Mrs. Lincoln, by her own acts, forced 
 herself into notoriety. She stepped beyond the formal 
 lines which hedge about a private life, and invited pub 
 lic criticism. The people have judged her harshly, and 
 no woman was ever more traduced in the public prints 
 of the country. The people knew nothing of the secret 
 history of her transactions, therefore they judged her 
 by what was thrown to the surface. For an act may be 
 wrong judged purely by itself, but when the motive 
 that prompted the act is understood, it is construed 
 differently. I lay it down as an axiom, that only that is 
 criminal in the sight of God where crime is meditated. 
 Mrs. Lincoln may have been imprudent, but since her 
 
xiv Preface. 
 
 intentions were good, she should be judged more kind 
 ly than she has been. But the world do not know 
 what her intentions were ; they have only been made 
 acquainted with her acts without knowing what feeling 
 guided her actions. If the world are to judge her as I 
 have judged her, they must be introduced to the secret 
 history of her transactions. The veil of mystery must 
 be drawn aside ; the origin of a fact must be brought to 
 light with the naked fact itself. If I have betrayed 
 confidence in anything I have published, it has been to 
 place Mrs. Lincoln in a better light before the world. 
 A breach of trust if breach it can be called of this 
 kind is always excusable. My own character, as well as 
 the character of Mrs. Lincoln, is at stake, since I have 
 been intimately associated with that lady in the most 
 eventful periods of her life. I have been her confidante, 
 and if evil charges are laid at her door, they also must 
 be laid at mine, since I have been a party to all her 
 movements. To defend myself I must defend the lady 
 that I have served. The world have judged Mrs. Lin 
 coln by the facts which float upon the surface, and 
 through her have partially judged me, and the only 
 way to convince them that wrong was not meditated is 
 to explain the motives that actuated us. I have written 
 nothing that can place Mrs. Lincoln in a worse light 
 before the world than the light in which she now stands, 
 therefore the secret history that I publish can do her 
 no harm. I have excluded everything of a personal 
 character from her letters ; the extracts introduced only 
 
Preface. xv 
 
 refer to public men, and are such as to throw light 
 upon her unfortunate adventure in New York. These 
 letters were not written for publication, for which 
 reason they are all the more valuable; they are the 
 frank overflowings of the heart, the outcropping of im 
 pulse, the key to genuine motives. They prove the 
 motive to have been pure, and if they shall help to stifle 
 the voice of calumny, I am content. I do not forget, 
 before the public journals vilified Mrs. Lincoln, that ladies 
 who moved in the Washington circle in which she 
 moved, freely canvassed her character among them 
 selves. They gloated over many a tale of scandal that 
 grew out of gossip in their own circle. If these ladies 
 could say everything bad of the wife of the President, 
 why should I not be permitted to lay her secret history 
 bare, especially when that history plainly shows that her 
 life, like all lives, has its good side as well as its bad 
 side ? None of us are perfect, for which reason we 
 should heed the voice of charity when it whispers 
 in our ears, " Do not magnify the imperfections of 
 others." Had Mrs. Lincoln s acts never become pub 
 lic property, I should not have published to the world 
 the secret chapters of her life. I am not the special 
 champion of the widow of our lamented President ; the 
 reader of the pages which follow will discover that I 
 have written with the utmost frankness in regard to her 
 have exposed her faults as well as given her credit for 
 honest motives. I wish the world to judge her as she 
 is, free from the exaggerations of praise or scandal, since 
 
xvi Preface. 
 
 I have been associated with her in so many things that 
 have provoked hostile criticism ; and the judgment that 
 the world may pass upon her, I flatter myself, will pre 
 sent my own actions in a better light. 
 
 ELIZABETH KECKLEY. 
 
 14 CABROLL PLACE, NEW YORK, March 14, 1868. 
 
EHIND THE 
 
 GENES 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 WHERE I WAS BORX. 
 
 Y life has been an eventful one. I 
 was born a slave was the child 
 of slave parents therefore I came 
 upon the earth free in God-like 
 thought, but fettered in action. My birthplace 
 was Dinwiddie Co art-House, in Virginia. My 
 recollections of childhood are distinct, perhaps 
 for the reason that many stirring incidents are 
 associated with that period. I am now on the 
 shady side of forty, and as I sit alone in my room 
 the brain is busy, and a rapidly moving pano 
 rama brings scene after scene before me, some 
 
* 
 
 18 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 pleasant and others sad ; and when I thus greet 
 old familiar faces, I often find myself wonder 
 ing if I am not living the past over again. The 
 visions are so terribly distinct that I almost 
 imagine them to be real. Hour after hour 
 I sit while the scerfes are being shifted ; and 
 as I gaze upon the panorama of the past, I 
 realize how crowded with incidents my life 
 has been. Every day seems like a romance 
 within itself, and the years grow into ponder 
 ous volumes. As I cannot condense, I must 
 omit many strange passages in my history. 
 From such a wilderness of events it is difficult 
 to make a selection, but as I am not writing 
 altogether the history of myself, I will confine 
 my story to the most important incidents which 
 I believe influenced the moulding of my char 
 acter. As I glance over the crowded sea of 
 the past, these incidents stand forth promi 
 nently, the guide-posts of memory. I presume 
 that I must have been four years old when I 
 
Behind the Scenes. 19 
 
 first began to remember ; at least, I cannot now 
 recall anything occurring previous to this period. 
 My master, Col. A. Burwell, was somewhat un 
 settled in his business affairs, and while I was 
 yet an infant he made several removals. While 
 living at Hampton Sidney College, Prince Ed 
 ward County, Ya., Mrs. Burwell gave birth 
 to a daughter, a sweet, black-eyed baby, my 
 earliest and fondest pet. To take care of this 
 baby was my first duty. True, I was but a 
 child myself only four years old but then I 
 had been raised in a hardy school had been 
 taught to rely upon myself, and to prepare my 
 self to render assistance to others. The lesson 
 was not a bitter one, for I was too young to 
 indulge in philosophy, and the precepts that I 
 then treasured and practised I believe developed 
 those principles of character which have enabled 
 me to triumph over so many difficulties. Not 
 withstanding all the wrongs that slavery heaped 
 upon ine, I can bless it for one thing youth s 
 
20 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 important lesson of self-reliance. The baby was 
 named Elizabeth, and it was pleasant to me to 
 be assigned a duty in connection with it, for 
 the discharge of that duty transferred me from 
 the rude cabin to the household of my master. 
 My simple attire was a short dress and a little 
 white apron. My old mistress encouraged me 
 in rocking the cradle, by telling me that if I 
 
 O */ CD 
 
 would watch over the baby well, keep the flies 
 out of its face, and not let it cry, I should be 
 its little maid. This was a golden promise, and 
 I required no better inducement for the faithful 
 performance of my task. I began to rock the 
 cradle most industriously, when lo ! out pitched 
 little pet on the floor. I instantly cried out, 
 " Oh ! the baby is on the floor ;" and, not 
 knowing what to do, I seized the fire-shovel in 
 my perplexity, and was trying to shovel up my 
 tender charge, when my mistress called to me 
 to let the child alone, and then ordered that I 
 be taken out and lashed for my carelessness. 
 
Behind the Scenes. 21 
 
 The blows were not administered with a light 
 hand, I assure yon, and doubtless the severity 
 of the lashing has made me remember the in 
 cident so well. This was the first time I was 
 punished in this cruel way, but not the last. 
 The black-eyed baby that I called my pet grew 
 into a self-willed girl, and in after years was 
 the cause of much trouble to me. I grew strong 
 and healthy, and, notwithstanding I knit socks 
 and attended to various kinds of work, I was 
 repeatedly told, when even fourteen years old, 
 that I would never be worth my salt. When 
 I was eight, Mr. Burwell s family consisted of 
 six sons and four daughters, with a large family 
 of servants. My mother was kind and forbear 
 ing ; Mrs. Biirwell a hard task-master ; and as 
 mother had so much work to do in making 
 
 O 
 
 clothes, etc., for the family, besides the slaves, I 
 determined to render her all the assistance in 
 my power, and in rendering her such assistance 
 my young energies were taxed to the utmost 
 
22 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 I was my mother s only child, which made hei 
 love for me all the stronger. I did not know 
 much of my father, for he was the slave of an 
 other man, and when Mr. Burwell moved from 
 Dinwiddie he was separated from us, and only 
 allowed to visit my mother twice a year during 
 the Easter holidays and Christmas. At last 
 Mr. Burwell determined to reward my mother, 
 by making an arrangement with the owner of 
 my father, by which the separation of my parents 
 could be brought to an end. It was a bright 
 day, indeed, for my mother when it was an 
 nounced that my father was coming to live with 
 us. The old weary look faded from her face, 
 and she worked as if her heart was in every 
 task. But the golden days did not last long. 
 The radiant dream faded all too soon. 
 
 In the morning my father called me to him 
 and kissed me, then held me out at arms length 
 as if he were regarding his child with pride. 
 " She is growing into a large line girl," he re- 
 
Behind the Scenes. 23 
 
 marked to my mother. "I dim no which I like 
 best, you or Lizzie, as both are so dear to me." 
 My mother s name was Agnes, and my father 
 delighted to call me his "Little Lizzie." While 
 yet my father and mother were speaking hope 
 fully, joyfully of the future, Mr. Burwell came 
 to the cabin, with a letter in his hand. He was 
 a kind master in some things, and as gently as 
 possible informed my parents that they must 
 part ; for in two hours my father must join his 
 master at Dinwiddie, and go with him to the 
 West, where he had determined to make his fu 
 ture home. The announcement fell upon the lit 
 tle circle in that rude-log cabin like a thunderbolt. 
 I can remember the scene as if it were but yes 
 terday ; how my father cried out against the 
 cruel separation; his last kiss ; his wild straining 
 of my mother to his bosom ; the solemn prayer to 
 Heaven ; the tears and sobs the fearful anguish 
 of broken hearts. The last kiss, the last good- 
 by ; and he, my father, was gone, gone forever. 
 
24: Behind the Scenes. 
 
 The shadow eclipsed the sunshine, and love 
 brought despair. The parting was eternal. The 
 cloud had no silver lining, but I trust that it will 
 be all silver in heaven. We who are crushed to 
 earth with heavy chains, who travel a weary, 
 rugged, thorny road, groping through midnight 
 darkness on earth, earn our right to enjoy the 
 sunshine in the great hereafter. At the grave, 
 at least, we shotild be permitted to lay our bur 
 dens down, that a new world, a world of bright 
 ness, may open to us. The light that is denied us 
 here should grow into a flood of effulgence be 
 yond the dark, mysterious shadows of death. 
 Deep as was the distress of my mother in parting 
 with my father, her sorrow did not screen her 
 from insult. My old mistress said to her : " Stop 
 your nonsense ; there is no necessity for you put 
 ting on airs. Your husband is not the only slave 
 that has been sold from his family, and you are 
 not the only one that has had to part. There are 
 plenty more men about here, and if you want a 
 
Behind the Scenes. 25 
 
 husband so badly, stop your crying and go and 
 find another." To these unfeeling words my 
 mother made no reply. She turned away in 
 stoical silence, with a curl of that loathing 
 scorn upon her lips which swelled in her 
 heart. 
 
 My father and mother never met again in 
 this world. They kept up a regular correspon 
 dence for years, and the most precious mementoes 
 of my existence are the faded old letters that he 
 wrote, full of love, and always hoping that the 
 future would bring brighter days. In nearly 
 every letter is a message for me. " Tell my 
 darling little Lizzie," he writes, "to be a good 
 girl, and to learn her book. Kiss her for me, and 
 tell her that I will come to see her some day." 
 Thus he wrote time and again, but he never 
 came. He lived in hope, but died without ever 
 seeing his wife and child. 
 
 I note a few extracts from one of my father s 
 
 letters to my mother, following copy literally : 
 2 
 
26 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 " SHELBY VILE, Sept. 6, 1833. 
 " MKS. AGNES HOBBS. 
 
 " Dear Wife : My dear biloved wife I am more 
 than glad to meet with opportunty writee thes 
 few lines to you by my Mistress who ar now 
 about starterng to Virginia, and sevl others of my 
 old friends are with her ; in compeney Mrs. Ann 
 Bus the wife of master Thos Rus and Dan Wood- 
 iard and his family and I am very sorry that I 
 havn the chance to go with them as I feele 
 Determid to see you If life last again. I am now 
 here and out at this pleace so I am not abble to 
 get of at this time. I am write well and hearty 
 and all the rest of masters family. I heard this 
 eveng by Mistress that ar just from theree all 
 sends love to you and all my old "frends. I am 
 a living in a town called Shelbyville and I have 
 wrote a greate many letters since Ive beene here 
 and almost been reeady to my selfe that its out 
 of the question to write any more at tall : my dear 
 wife I dont feeld no whys like giving out writing 
 
Behind the Scenes. 27 
 
 to you as yet and I hope when you get this letter 
 that you be Inncougege to write me a letter. I 
 am well satisfied at my living at this place I am a 
 making money for my own benifit and I hope 
 that its to yours also If I live to see Kexct year 
 I shall heve my own time from master by giving 
 him 100 and twenty Dollars a year and I thinkel 
 shall be doing good bisness at that and heve some 
 thing more thean all that. I hope with gods 
 helpe that I may be abble to rejoys with you on 
 the earth and In heaven lets meet when will I am 
 detemnid to nuver stope praying, not in this earth 
 and I hope to praise god In glory there weel 
 meet to part no more forever. So my dear wife 
 I hope to meet you In paradase to prase god for 
 ever #****! want Elizabeth to be a good 
 girl and not to thinke that becasue I am bound so 
 fare that gods not abble to open the way * * * * 
 
 " GEORGE PLEAS AOT, 
 " Hobls a servant of Grum" 
 
 The last letter that rny mother received from my 
 
28 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 father was dated Shelbyville, Tennessee, March 
 20, 1839. He writes in a cheerful strain, and 
 hopes to see her soon. Alas ! he looked forward 
 to a meeting in vain. Year after year the one 
 great hope swelled in his heart, but the hope was 
 only realized beyond the dark portals of the grave. 
 "When I was about seven years old I witnessed, 
 for the first time, the sale of a human being. 
 "We were living at Prince Edward, in Yirginia, 
 and master had just purchased his hogs for the 
 winter, for which he was unable to pay in full. 
 To escape from his embarrassment it was neces 
 sary to sell one of the slaves. Little Joe, the son 
 of the cook, was selected as the victim. His 
 mother was ordered to dress him up in his Sun 
 day clothes, and send him to the house. He 
 came in with a bright face, was placed in the 
 scales, and was sold, like the hogs, at so much 
 per pound. His mother was kept in ignorance 
 of the transaction, but her suspicions were 
 aroused. When her son started for Peter sburgh 
 in the wagon, the truth began to dawn upon her 
 
Behind the Scenes. 29 
 
 mind, and she pleaded piteously that her boy 
 should not be taken from her ; but master quiet 
 ed her by telling her that he was simply going to 
 town with the wagon, and would be back in the 
 morning. Morning came, but little Joe did not 
 return to his mother. Morning after morning" 
 passed, and the mother went down to the grave 
 without ever seeing her child again. One day 
 she was whipped for grieving for her lost boy. 
 Colonel Burwell never liked to see one of his 
 slaves wear a sorrowful face, and those who 
 offended in this particular way were always 
 punished. Alas ! the sunny face of the slave is 
 not always an indication of sunshine in the 
 heart. Colonel Burwell at one time owned 
 about seventy slaves, all of which were sold, and 
 in a majority of instances wives were separated 
 from husbands and children from their parents. 
 Slavery in the Border States forty years ago was 
 different from what it was twenty years ago. 
 Time seemed to soften the hearts of master and 
 
30 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 mistress, and to insure kinder and more hu 
 mane treatment to bondsmen and bondswomen. 
 When I was quite a child, an incident occurred 
 which my mother afterward impressed more 
 strongly on my mind. One of my uncles, a 
 slave of Colonel Burwell, lost a pair of plough- 
 lines, and when the loss was made known the 
 master gave him a new pair, and told him that if 
 he did not take care of them he would punish 
 him severely. In a few weeks the second pair 
 of lines was stolen, and my uncle hung himself 
 rather than meet the displeasure of his master. 
 My mother went to the spring in the morning 
 for a pail of water, and on looking up into the 
 willow tree which shaded the bubbling crystal 
 stream, she discovered the lifeless form of her 
 brother suspended beneath one of the strong 
 branches. Rather than be punished the way 
 Colonel Burwell punished his servants, he tock 
 his own life. Slavery had its dark side as well 
 as its bright side. 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 GIRLHOOD AND ITS SORROWS. 
 
 MUST pass rapidly over the stirring 
 events of my early life. When I 
 was about fourteen years old I went 
 to live with my master s eldest son, 
 a Presbyterian minister. His salary was small, 
 and he was burdened with a helpless wife, a girl 
 that he had married in the humble walks of life. 
 She was morbidly sensitive, and imagined that 
 I regarded her w r ith contemptuous feelings -be 
 cause she was of poor parentage. I was their only 
 servant, and a gracious loan at that. They were 
 not able to buy me, so my old master sought to 
 
32 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 render them assistance by allowing them the 
 benefit of my services. From the very first I 
 did the work of three servants, and yet I was 
 scolded and regarded with distrust. The years 
 passed slowly, and I continued to serve them, 
 and at the same time grew into strong, healthy 
 womanhood. I was nearly eighteen when we 
 removed from Virginia to Hillsboro , JSTorth Caro 
 lina, where young Mr. Burwell took charge of a 
 church. The salary was small, and we still had 
 to practise the closest economy. Mr. Bingham, a 
 hard, cruel man, the village schoolmaster, was a 
 member of my young master s church, and he was 
 a frequent visitor to the parsonage. She whom I 
 called mistress seemed to be desirous to wreak 
 vengeance on me for something, and Bingham 
 became her ready tool. During this time my 
 master was unusually kind to me ; he was nat 
 urally a good-hearted man, but was influenced 
 by his wife. It was Saturday evening, and while 
 I was bending over the bed, watching the baby 
 
Behind the Scenes. 33 
 
 that I had just hushed into slumber, Mr. Bing- 
 ham came to the door and asked me to go with 
 him to his study. Wondering what he meant 
 by his strange request, I followed him, and when 
 we had entered the study he closed the door, and 
 in his blunt way remarked : " Lizzie, I am going 
 to flog you." I was thunderstruck, and tried to 
 think if I had been remiss in anything. I could 
 not recollect of doing anything to deserve punish 
 ment, and with surprise exclaimed : " Whip me, 
 Mr. Bingham ! what for ? " 
 
 " No matter," he replied, " I am going to whip 
 you, so take down your dress this instant." 
 
 Recollect, I was eighteen years of age, was a 
 woman fully developed, and yet this man coolly 
 bade me take down my dress. I drew myself up 
 proudly, firmly, and said : " No, Mr. Bingham, I 
 shall not take down my dress before you. More 
 over, you shall not whip me unless you prove the 
 stronger. Nobody has a right to whip me but 
 my own master, and nobody shall do so if I can 
 
 prevent it." 
 2* 
 
34 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 My words seemed to exasperate him. He 
 seized a rope, caught me roughly, and tried to tie 
 me. I resisted with all my strength, but he was 
 the stronger of the two, and after a hard struggle 
 succeeded in binding my hands and tearing my 
 dress from my back. Then he picked up a raw 
 hide, and began to ply it freely over my shoul 
 ders. With steady hand and practised eye he 
 would raise the instrument of torture, nerve him 
 self for a blow, and with fearful force the raw 
 hide descended upon the quivering flesh. It cut 
 the skin, raised great welts, and the warm blood 
 trickled down my back. Oh God ! I can feel 
 the torture now the terrible, excruciating agony 
 of those moments. I did not scream ; I was too 
 proud to let my tormentor know what I was 
 suffering. I closed my lips firmly, that not even 
 a groan might escape from them, and I stood like 
 a statue while the keen lash cut deep into my 
 flesh. | As soon as I was released, stunned with 
 pain, bruised and bleeding, I went home and 
 
Behind the Scenes. 35 
 
 ruphed into the presence of the pastor and his 
 wife, wildly exclaiming : " Master Robert, why 
 did you let Mr. Bingham flog me ? What have 
 I done that I should be so punished ? " 
 
 " Go away," he gruffly answered, " do not 
 bother me." 
 
 I would not be put off thus. " What have I 
 done ? I will know why I have been flogged." 
 
 I saw his cheeks flush with anger, but I did 
 not move. He rose to his feet, and on my refus 
 ing to go without an explanation, seized a chair, 
 struck me, and felled me to the floor. I rose, 
 bewildered, almost dead with pain, crept to my 
 room, dressed my bruised arms and back as best 
 I could, and then lay down, but not to sleep. No, 
 I could not sleep, for I was suffering mental as 
 well as bodily torture. My spirit rebelled against 
 the unjust-ness that had been inflicted upon me, 
 and though I tried to smother my anger and to 
 forgive those who had been so cruel to me, it 
 was impossible. The next morning I was more 
 
36 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 calm, and I believe that I could then have for 
 given everything for the sake of one kind word. 
 But the kind word was not proffered, and it 
 may be possible that I grew somewhat wayward 
 and sullen. Though I had faults, I know now, 
 as I felt then, harshness w r as the poorest induce 
 ment for the correction of them. It seems that 
 Mr. Bingham had pledged himself to Mrs. Bur- 
 well to subdue what he called my " stubborn 
 pride." On Friday following the Saturday on 
 which I was so savagely beaten, Mr. Bingham 
 again directed me to come to his study. I 
 went, but with the determination to offer re 
 sistance should he attempt to flog me again. 
 On entering the room I found him prepared with 
 a new rope and a new cowhide. I told him 
 that I was ready to die, but that he could not 
 conquer me. In struggling with him I bit his 
 finger severely, when he seized a heavy stick and 
 beat me with it in a shameful manner. Again 
 I went home sore and bleeding, but with pride as 
 
Behind the Scenes. 37 
 
 strong and defiant as ever. The following Thurs 
 day Mr. Bingham again tried to conquer me, 
 but in vain. We struggled, and he struck me 
 many savage blows. As I stood bleeding be 
 fore him, nearly exhausted with his efforts, he 
 burst into tears, and declared that it would be 
 a sin to beat me any more. My suffering at 
 last subdued his hard heart; he asked my forgive 
 ness, and afterwards was an altered man. He 
 was never known to strike one of his servants 
 from that day forward. Mr. Burwell, he who 
 preached the love of Heaven, who glorified the 
 precepts and examples of Christ, who expound 
 ed the Holy Scriptures Sabbath after Sabbath 
 from the pulpit, when Mr. Bingham refused to 
 whip me any more, was urged by his wife to 
 punish me himself. One morning he went to the 
 wood-pile, took an oak broom, cut the handle off, 
 and with this heavy handle attempted to conquer 
 me. I fought him, but he proved the strongest. 
 At the sight of my bleeding form, his wife fell 
 
38 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 upon her knees and begged him to desist. My 
 distress even touched her cold, jealous heart. I 
 was so badly bruised that I was unable to leave 
 my bed for five days. I will not dwell upon the 
 bitter anguish of these hours, for even the thought 
 of them now makes me shudder. The Kev. Mr. 
 Burwell was not yet. satisfied. He resolved to 
 make another attempt to subdue my proud, re 
 bellious spirit made the attempt and again fail 
 ed, when he told me, with an air of penitence, 
 that he should never strike me another blow ; 
 and faithfully he kept his word. These revolting 
 scenes created a great sensation at the time, were 
 the talk of the town and neighborhood, and I 
 flatter myself that the actions of those who had 
 conspired against me were not viewed in a light 
 to reflect much credit upon them. 
 
 The savage efforts to subdue my pride were 
 not the only things that brought me suffering 
 and deep mortification during my residence at 
 Hillsboro . I was regarded as fair-looking for 
 
Behind tlie Scenes. 39 
 
 one of my race, and for four years a white man 
 I spare the world his name had base designs 
 upon me. I do not care to dwell upon this sub 
 ject, for it is- one that is fraught with pain. 
 Suffice it to say, that he persecuted me for four 
 years, and I I became a mother. The child 
 of which he was the father was the only child 
 that I ever brought into the world. If my poor 
 boy ever suffered any humiliating pangs on ac 
 count of birth, he could not blame his mother, 
 for God knows that she did not wish to give 
 him life; he must blame the edicts of that so 
 ciety which deemed it no crime to undermine 
 the virtue of girls in my then position. 
 
 Among the old letters preserved by my mother 
 I find the following, written by myself while 
 at Hillsboro . In this connection I desire to 
 state that Rev. Robert Burwell is now living * at 
 Charlotte, North Carolina : 
 
 " HILLSBORO , April 10, 1838. 
 " MY DEAK MOTHER : I have been intending 
 
 * March, 1868. 
 
40 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 to write to you for a long time, but numerous 
 things have prevented, and for that reason you 
 must excuse me. 
 
 " I thought very hard of you for not writing 
 to me, but hope that you will answer this letter 
 
 as soon as you receive it, and tell me how you 
 
 i 
 like Marsfield, and if you have seen any of my 
 
 old acquaintances, or if you yet know any of the 
 brick-house people who I think so much of. I 
 want to hear of the family at home very much, 
 indeed. I really believe you and all the family 
 have forgotten me, if not I certainly should 
 have heard from some of you since you left 
 Boy ton, if it was only a line ; nevertheless I 
 love you all very dearly, and shall, although I 
 may never see you again, nor do I ever expect 
 to. Miss Anna is going to Petersburgh next 
 winter, but she says that she does not intend to 
 take me ; what reason she has for leaving me I 
 cannot tell. I have often wished that I lived 
 where I knew I never could see you, for then I 
 
Behind the Scenes. 41 
 
 would not have my hopes raised, and to be disap 
 pointed in this manner ; however, it is said that 
 a bad beginning makes a good ending, but I 
 hardly expect to see that happy day at this 
 place. Give my love to all the family, both 
 white and black. I was very much obliged to 
 you for the presents you sent me last summer, 
 though it is quite late in the day to be thanking 
 for them. Tell Aunt Bella that I was very 
 much obliged to her for her present ; I have 
 been so particular with it that I have only worn 
 it once. 
 
 " There have been six weddings since October ; 
 the most respectable one was about a fortnight 
 ago ; I was asked to be the first attendant, but, as 
 usual with all my expectations, I was disappoint 
 ed, for on the wedding-day I felt more like 
 being locked up in a three-cornered box than 
 attending a wedding. About a week before 
 Christmas I was bridesmaid for Ann Nash ; 
 when the night came I was in quite a trouble ; 
 
42 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 I did not know whether my frock was clean or 
 dirty ; I only had a week s notice, and the body 
 and sleeves to make, and only one hour every 
 night to work on it, so you can see with these 
 troubles to overcome my chance was rather slim. 
 I must now close, although I could fill ten pages 
 with my griefs and misfortunes ; no tongue could 
 express them as I feel ; don t forget me though ; 
 and answer my letters soon. I will write you 
 again, and would write more now, but Miss Anna 
 says it is time I had finished. Tell Miss 
 Elizabeth that I wish she would make haste and 
 get married, for mistress says that I belong to her 
 when she gets married. 
 
 " I wish you would send me a pretty frock this 
 summer ; if you will send it to Mrs. Kobertson s 
 Miss Bet will send it to me. 
 
 " Farewell, darling mother. 
 
 " Your affectionate daughter, 
 
 "ELIZABETH HOBBS." 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 How I GAINED MY FREEDOM. 
 
 HE years passed and brought many 
 changes to me, but on these I will not 
 dwell, as I wish to hasten to the most 
 interesting part of my story. My 
 troubles in North Carolina were brought to an end 
 by my unexpected return to Virginia, where I lived 
 with Mr. Garland, who had married Miss Ann 
 Burwell, one of my old master s daughters. His 
 life was not a prosperous one, and after struggling 
 with the world for several years he left his native 
 State, a disappointed man. He moved to St. 
 Louis, hoping to improve his fortune in the West ; 
 
4A behind the Scenes. 
 
 but ill luck followed him there, and he seemed 
 to be unable to escape from the influence of the 
 evil star of his destiny. When his family, my 
 self included, joined him in his new home on the 
 banks of the Mississippi, we found him so poor 
 that he was unable to pay the dues on a letter 
 advertised as in the post-office for him. The ne 
 cessities of the family were so great, that it was 
 proposed to place my mother out at service. The 
 idea was shocking to me. Every gray hair in 
 her old head was dear to me, and I could not 
 bear the thought of her going to work for stran 
 gers. She had been raised in the family, had 
 watched the growth of each child from infancy 
 to maturity; they had been the objects of her 
 kindest care, and she was wound round about 
 them as the vine winds itself about the rugged 
 oak. They had been the central figures in her 
 dream of life a dream beautiful to her, since she 
 had basked in the sunshine of no other. And 
 * now they proposed to destroy each tendril of 
 
Behind the Scenes. 45 
 
 affection, to cloud the sunshine of her existence 
 when the day was drawing to a close, when the 
 shadows of solemn night were rapidly approach 
 ing. My mother, my poor aged mother, go 
 among strangers to toil for a living! No, a 
 thousand times no ! I would rather work my 
 fingers to the bone, bend over my sewing till the 
 film of blindness gathered in my eyes ; nay, even 
 beg from street to street. I told Mr. Garland so, 
 and he gave me permission to see what I could 
 do. I was fortunate in obtaining work, and in a 
 short time I had acquired something of a reputa 
 tion as a seamstress and dress-maker. The best 
 ladies in St. Louis were my patrons, and when 
 my reputation was once established I never 
 lacked for orders. With my needle I kept bread 
 in the mouths of seventeen persons for two years 
 and five months. While I was working so hard 
 that others might live in comparative comfort, 
 and move in those circles of society to which 
 their birth gave them entrance, the thought often 
 
46 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 occurred to me whether I was really worth my 
 salt or not; and then perhaps the lips curled 
 with a bitter sneer. It may seem strange that 
 I should place so much emphasis upon words 
 thoughtlessly, idly spoken ; but then we do many 
 strange things in life, and cannot always explain 
 the motives that actuate us. The heavy task 
 was too much for me, and my health began to 
 give way. About this time Mr. Keckley, whom 
 I had met in Virginia, and learned to regard 
 with more than friendship, came to St. Louis. 
 He sought my hand in marriage, and for a long 
 time I refused to consider his proposal; for I 
 could not bear the thought of bringing children 
 into slavery of adding one single recruit to the 
 millions bound to hopeless servitude, fettered 
 and shackled with chains stronger and heavier 
 than manacles of iron. I made a proposition to 
 buy myself and son ; the proposition was bluntly 
 declined, and I was commanded never to broach 
 the subject again. I would not be put off thus. 
 
Behind the Scenes. 47 
 
 for hope pointed to a freer, brighter life in the 
 future. Why should my son be held in slavery ? 
 I often asked myself. He came into the world 
 through no will of mine, and yet, God only knows 
 how I loved him. The Anglo-Saxon blood as 
 well as the African flowed in his veins ; the two 
 currents commingled one singing of freedom, 
 the other silent and sullen with generations of 
 despair. Why should not the Anglo-Saxon tri 
 umphwhy should it be weighed down with the 
 rich blood typical of the tropics ? Must the life- 
 current of one race bind the other race in chains 
 as strong and enduring as if there had been no 
 Anglo-Saxon taint ? By the laws of God and na 
 ture, as interpreted by man, one-half of my boy 
 was free, and why should not this fair birthright 
 of freedom remove the curse from the other 
 half raise it into the bright, joyous sunshine 
 of liberty? I could not answer these questions 
 of my heart that almost maddened me, and I 
 learned to regard human philosophy with dis- 
 
48 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 trust. Much as I respected the authority of my 
 master, I could not remain silent on a subject 
 that so nearly concerned me. One day, when I 
 insisted on knowing whether he would permit 
 me to purchase myself, and what price I must 
 pay for myself, he turned to me in a petulant 
 manner, thrust his hand into his pocket, drew 
 forth a bright silver quarter of a dollar, and prof 
 fering it to me, said : 
 
 " Lizzie, I have told you often not to trouble 
 me with such a question. If you really wish to 
 leave me, take this : it will pay the passage of 
 yourself and boy on the ferry-boat, and when you 
 are on the other side of the river you will be 
 free. It is the cheapest way that I know of to 
 accomplish what you desire." 
 
 I looked at him in astonishment, and earnestly 
 replied : " No, master, I do not wish to be free 
 in such a manner. If such had been my wish, I 
 should never have troubled you about obtaining 
 your consent to my purchasing myself. I can 
 
Behind the Scenes. 49 
 
 cross the river any day, as you well know, and 
 have frequently done so, but will never leave you 
 in such a manner. By the laws of the land I am 
 your slave you are my master, and I will only 
 be free by such means *as the laws of the country 
 provide." He expected this answer, and I knew 
 that he was pleased. Some time afterwards he 
 told me that he had reconsidered the question ; 
 that I had served his family faithfully ; that I de 
 served my freedom, and that he would take 
 $1200 for myself and boy. 
 
 This was joyful intelligence for me, and the re 
 flection of hope gave a silver lining to the dark 
 cloud of my life faint, it is true, but still a silver 
 lining. 
 
 Taking a prospective glance at liberty, I con 
 sented to marry. The wedding was a great 
 event in the family. The ceremony took place 
 in the parlor, in the presence of the family and a 
 number of guests. Mr. Garland gave me away, 
 and the pastor, Bishop Hawks, performed the 
 
 3 
 
50 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 ceremony, who had solemnized the bridals of Mr. 
 Gr. s own children. The day was a happy one, 
 but it faded all too soon. Mr. Keckley let me 
 speak kindly of his faults proved dissipated, and 
 a burden instead of a helpmate. More than all, 
 I learned that he was a slave instead of a free 
 man, as he represented himself to be. With the 
 simple explanation that I lived with him eight 
 years, let charity draw around him the mantle of 
 silence. 
 
 I went to work in earnest to purchase my 
 freedom, but the years passed, and I was still a 
 slave. Mr. Garland s family claimed so much of 
 my attention in fact, I supported them that I 
 was not able to accumulate anything. In the 
 mean time Mr. Garland died, and Mr. Burwell, a 
 Mississippi planter, came to St. Louis to settle 
 up the estate. He was a kind-hearted man, and 
 said I should be free, and would afford me every 
 facility to raise the necessary amount to pay the 
 price of my liberty. Several schemes were urged 
 
Behind the Scenes. 51 
 
 upon me by my friends. At last I formed a 
 resolution to go to New York, state my case, and 
 appeal to the benevolence of the people. The 
 plan seemed feasible, and I made preparations to 
 carry it out. When I was almost ready to turn 
 my face northward, Mrs. Garland told me that 
 she would require the names of six gentlemen 
 who would vouch for my return, and become 
 responsible for the amount at which I was 
 valued. I had many friends in St. Louis, and as 
 I believed that they had confidence in me, I felt 
 that I could readily obtain the names desired. I 
 started out, stated my case, and obtained five 
 signatures to the paper, and my heart throbbed 
 with pleasure, for I did not believe that the sixth 
 would refuse me. I called, he listened patiently, 
 then remarked : 
 
 " Yes, yes, Lizzie ; the scheme is a fair one, and 
 you shall have my name. But I shall bid you 
 good-by when you start." 
 
 " Good-by for a short time," I ventured to add. 
 
52 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 " No, good-by for all time," and he looked at 
 me as if he would read my very soul with his 
 eyes. 
 
 I was startled. " What do you mean, Mr. 
 Farrow ? Surely you do not think that I do not 
 mean to come back ?" 
 
 " No." 
 
 "No, what then?" 
 
 " Simply this : you mean to come back, that 
 is, you mean so now, but you never will. When 
 you reach New York the abolitionists w r ill tell 
 you what savages we are, and they will prevail 
 on you to stay there; and we shall never see you. 
 again." 
 
 " But I assure you, Mr. Farrow, you are mis 
 taken. I not only m<ean to come back, but will 
 come back, and pay every cent of the twelve 
 hundred dollars for myself and child." 
 
 I was beginning to feel sick at heart, for I 
 could not accept the signature of this man when 
 he had no faith in my pledges. No ; slavery, 
 
Behind the Scenes. 53 
 
 eternal slavery rather than be regarded with dis 
 trust by those whose respect I esteemed. 
 
 "But I am not mistaken," he persisted. 
 " Time will show. When you start for the North 
 I shall bid you good-by." 
 
 The heart grew heavy. Every ray of sunshine 
 was eclipsed. With humbled pride, weary step, 
 tearful face, and a dull, aching pain, I left the 
 house. I walked along the street mechanically. 
 The cloud had no silver lining now. The rose 
 buds of hope had withered and died without lift 
 ing up their heads to receive the dew kiss of 
 morning. There was no morning for me all 
 was night, dark night. 
 
 I reached my own home, and weeping threw 
 myself upon the bed. My trunk was packed, 
 my luncheon was prepared by mother, the cars 
 were ready to bear me where I would not hear 
 the clank of chains, where I would breathe the 
 free, invigorating breezes of the glorious North. 
 I had dreamed such a happy dream, in imagina- 
 
54: Behind the Scenes. 
 
 tion had drunk of the water, the pure, sweet 
 crystal water of life, but now now the flowers 
 had withered before my eyes ; darkness had set 
 tled down upon me like a pall, and I was left 
 alone with cruel mocking shadows. 
 
 O 
 
 The first paroxysm of grief was scarcely over, 
 when a carriage stopped in front of the house; 
 Mrs. Le Bourgois, one of my kind patrons, got 
 out of it and entered the door. She seemed to 
 bring sunshine with her handsome cheery face. 
 She came to where I was, and in her sweet way 
 said : 
 
 "Lizzie, I hear that you are going to New 
 York to beg for money to buy your freedom. I 
 have been thinking over the matter, and told Ma 
 it would be a shame to allow you to go North to 
 beg for what we should give you. You have 
 many friends in St. Louis, and I am going to 
 raise the twelve hundred dollars required among 
 them. I have two hundred dollars put away for 
 a present ; am indebted to you one hundred dol 
 
Behind tJie Scenes. 55 
 
 lars ; mother owes you fifty dollars, and will add 
 another fifty to it; and as I do not want the 
 present, I will make the money a present to yon. 
 Don t start for New York now until I see what 
 I can do among your friends." 
 
 Like a ray of sunshine she came, and like a ray 
 of sunshine she went away. The flowers no 
 longer were withered, drooping. Again they 
 seemed to bud and grow in fragrance and beauty. 
 Mrs. Le Bourgois, God bless her dear good heart, 
 was more than successful. The twelve hundred 
 dollars were raised, and at last my son and my 
 self were free. Free, free ! what a glorious ring 
 to the word. Free! the bitter heart-struggle 
 was over. Free ! the soul could go out to heaven 
 and to God with no chains to clog its flight or 
 pull it down. Free ! the earth wore a brighter 
 look, and the very stars seemed to sing with joy. 
 Yes, free ! free by the laws of man and the smile 
 of God and Heaven bless them who made me 
 so! 
 
56 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 The following, copied from the original papers, 
 contain, in brief, the history of my emancipa 
 tion : 
 
 " I promise to give Lizzie and her son George 
 their freedom, on the payment of $1200. 
 
 " ANNE P. GARLAND. 
 
 "June 27, 1855." 
 
 " LIZZY : I send you this note to sign for the 
 sum of $75, and when I give you the whole 
 amount you will then sign the other note for 
 $100. 
 
 "ELLEN M. DOAN. 
 
 " In the paper you will find $25 ; see it is all 
 right before the girl leaves." 
 
 " I have received of Lizzy Keckley $950, which 
 I have deposited with Darby & Barksdale for 
 her $600 on the 21st July, $300 on the 27th 
 and 28th of July, and $50 on 13th August, 1855. 
 
 " I have and shall make use of said money for 
 Lizzy s benefit, and hereby guarantee to her one 
 
Behind the Scenes. 57 
 
 per cent, per month as much more as can be 
 made she shall have. The one per cent., as it 
 may be checked out, I will be responsible for 
 myself, as well as for the whole amount, when it 
 shall be needed by her. 
 
 " WILLIS L. WILLIAMS. 
 "ST. Louis, 13th August, 1855." 
 
 "Know all men by these presents, that for and 
 in consideration of the love and affection we bear 
 towards our sister, Anne P. Garland, of St. Louis, 
 Missouri, and for the further consideration of $5 
 in hand paid, we hereby sell and convey unto her, 
 the said Anne P. Garland, a negro woman named 
 Lizzie, and a negro boy, her son, named George ; 
 said Lizzie now resides at St. Louis, and is a 
 seamstress, known there as Lizzie Garland, the 
 wife of a yellow man named James, and called 
 James Keckley ; said George is a bright mulatto 
 boy, and is known in St. Louis as Garland s George. 
 We warrant these two slaves to be slaves for 
 
58 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 life, but make no representations as to age or 
 
 health. 
 
 "Witness our hands and seals, this 10th day of 
 
 August, 1855. 
 
 "JAS. R. PUTNAM, [L.S.] 
 "E. M. PUTNAM, [L.S.] 
 "A. BUKWELL, [L.S.]" 
 
 " The State of Mississipi, Warren } 
 
 C ss * 
 County, City of Vicksburg. ) 
 
 " Be it remembered, that on the tenth day of 
 August, in the year of our Lord one thousand 
 eight hundred and fifty-five, before me, Francis 
 "N. Steele, a Commissioner, resident in the city of 
 Yicksburg, duly commissioned and qualified by 
 the executive authority, and under the laws of the 
 State of Missouri, to take the acknowledgment 
 of deeds, etc., to be used or recorded therein, 
 personally appeared James R. Putnam and E. M. 
 Putnam, his wife, and Armistead Burwell, to me 
 known to be the individuals named in, and who 
 
Behind the Scenes. 59 
 
 executed the foregoing conveyance, and acknow 
 ledged that they executed the same for the 
 purposes therein mentioned ; and the E. M 
 Putnam being by me examined apart from her 
 husband, and being fully acquainted with the 
 contents of the foregoing conveyance, acknow 
 ledged that she executed the same freely, and 
 relinquished her dower, and any other claim she 
 might have in arid to the property therein men 
 tioned, freely, and without fear, compulsion, or 
 undue influence of her said husband. 
 
 " In witness whereof I have hereunto set my 
 hand and affixed my official seal, this 10th day 
 of August, A.D. 1855. 
 
 [L.S.] "F. K STEELE, 
 
 " Commissioner for Missouri" 
 
 " Know all men that I, Anne P. Garland, of the 
 County and City of St. Louis, State of Missouri, 
 for and in consideration of the sum of $1200, to 
 me in hand paid this day in cash, hereby eman- 
 
60 Beliind the Scenes. 
 
 cipate my negro woman Lizzie, and her son 
 George; the said Lizzie is known in St. Louis 
 as the wife of James, who is called James 
 Keckley ; is of light complexion, about 37 years 
 of age, by trade a dress-maker, and called by 
 those who know her Garland s Lizzie. The 
 said boy, George, is the only child of Lizzie, 
 is about 16 years of age, and is almost white, 
 and called by those who know him Garland s 
 George. 
 
 "Witness my hand and seal, this 13th day of 
 November, 1855. 
 
 " ANNE P. GARLAND, [L.S.] 
 
 " Witness : JOHN WICKHAM, 
 
 "WILLIS L. WILLIAMS." 
 
 In St. Louis Circuit Court, October Term, 1855. 
 
 November 15, 1855. 
 " State of Missouri, 
 County of St. Louis. 
 " Be it remembered, that on this fifteenth day of 
 November, eighteen hundred and fifty-five, in 
 
Behind the Scenes. 61 
 
 open court came John Wickliam and Willis L. 
 Williams, these two subscribing witnesses, ex 
 amined under oath to that effect, proved the 
 execution and acknowledgment of said deed by 
 Anne P. Garland to Lizzie and her son George, 
 which said proof of acknowledgment is entered on 
 the record of the court of that day. 
 
 "In testimony whereof I hereto set my hand 
 and affix the seal of said court, at office in the City 
 of St. Louis, the day and year last aforesaid. 
 
 [L.S.] "WM. J. HAMMOND, Clerk." 
 
 " State of Missouri, ) 
 
 \. ss. 
 
 County of St. Louis. ; 
 
 "I, Wm. J. Hammond, Clerk of the Circuit 
 Court within and for the county aforesaid, certify 
 the foregoing to be a true copy of a deed of eman 
 cipation from Anne P. Garland to Lizzie and her 
 son George, as fully as the same remain in my 
 
 office. 
 
 ^ 
 
 " In testimony whereof I hereto set my hand and 
 
62 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 affix the seal of said court, at office in the City 
 of St. Louis, this fifteenth day of November, 
 1855. 
 
 "Wn. J. HAMMOND, Clerk. 
 " By WM. A. PBNNINGTON, D.O." 
 
 " State of Missouri, ) 
 
 ( ss 
 County of St. Louis. ; 
 
 " I, the undersigned Recorder of said county, 
 certify that the foregoing instrument of writing 
 was filed for record in my office on the 14th day 
 of November, 1855 ; it is truly recorded in Book 
 Eo. 169, page 288. 
 
 " Witness my hand and official seal, date last 
 aforesaid. 
 
 [L.S.] " C. KEEMLE, Recorder" 
 
CHAPTEK IV. 
 IN THE FAMILY OF SENATOR JEFFERSON DAVIS. 
 
 HE twelve hundred dollars with, 
 which I purchased the freedom of 
 myself and son I consented to 
 accept only as a loan. I went to 
 work in earnest, and in a short time paid every 
 cent that was so kindly advanced by my lady 
 patrons of St Louis. All this time my husband 
 was a source of trouble to me, and a burden. 
 Too close occupation with my needle had its 
 effects upon my health, and feeling exhausted 
 with work, I determined to make a change. I 
 had a conversation with Mr. Keckley; informed 
 
64 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 him that since he persisted in dissipation we 
 must separate ; that I was going North, and that 
 I should never live with him again, at least until 
 I had good evidence of his reform. He was 
 rapidly debasing himself, and although I was 
 willing to work for him, I was not willing to 
 share his degradation. Poor man; he had his 
 faults, but over these faults death has drawn a 
 veil. My husband is now sleeping in his grave, 
 and in the silent grave I would bury all un 
 pleasant memories of him. 
 
 I left St. Louis in the spring of 1860, 
 taking the cars direct for Baltimore, where 
 I stopped six weeks, attempting to realize a 
 sum of money by forming classes of young 
 colored women, and teaching them my system 
 of cutting and fitting dresses. The scheme was 
 not successful, for after six weeks of labor and 
 vexation, I left Baltimore with scarcely money 
 enough to pay my fare to Washington. Arriving 
 in the capital, I sought and obtained work at two 
 
Behind the Scenes. GO 
 
 dollars and a half per day. However, as I was 
 notified that I could only remain in the city ten 
 days without obtaining a license to do so, such 
 being the law, and as I did not know whom to ap 
 ply to for assistance, I was sorely troubled. I also 
 had to have some one vouch to the authorities that 
 I was a free woman. My means were too scanty, 
 and my profession too precarious to warrant my 
 purchasing license. In my perplexity I called on 
 a lady for whom I was sewing, Miss Ringold, a 
 member of Gen. Mason s family, from Virginia. 
 I stated my case, and she kindly volunteered to 
 render me all the assistance in her power. She 
 called on Mayor Burritt with me, and Miss 
 Ringold succeeded in making an arrangement for 
 me to remain in Washington without paying the 
 sum required for a license ; moreover, I was not 
 to be molested. I rented apartments in a good 
 locality, and soon had a good run of custom. 
 The summer passed, winter came, and I was still 
 in Washington. Mrs. Davis, wife of Senator Jef- 
 
66 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 ferson Davis, came from the South in November 
 of 1860, with her husband. Learning that Mrs. 
 Davis wanted a modiste, I presented myself, and 
 was employed by her on the recommendation of 
 one of my patrons and her intimate friend, Mrs. 
 Captain Hetsill. I went to the house to work, 
 but finding that they were such late risers, and as 
 I had to fit many dresses on Mrs. Davis, I told 
 her that I should prefer giving half the day to 
 her, working the other in my own room for some 
 of my other lady patrons. Mrs. D. consented to 
 the proposition, and it was arranged that I should 
 come to her own house every day after 12 M. 
 It was the winter before the breaking out of that 
 fierce and bloody war between the two sections 
 of the country; and as Mr. Davis occupied a 
 leading position, his house was the resort of 
 politicians and statesmen from the South. 
 Almost every night, as I learned from the 
 servants and other members of the family, secret 
 meetings were held at the house ; and some of 
 
Behind the Scenes. 67 
 
 these meetings were protracted to a very late 
 hour. The prospects of war were freely discus 
 sed in my presence by Mr. and Mrs. Davis and 
 their friends. The holidays were approaching, 
 and Mrs. Davis kept me busy in manufacturing 
 articles of dress for herself and children. She 
 desired to present Mr. Da.vis on Christmas with 
 a handsome dressing-gown. The material was 
 purchased, and for weeks the work had been 
 under way. Christmas eve came, and the gown 
 had been laid aside so often that it was still un 
 finished. I saw that Mrs. D. was anxious to 
 have it completed, so I volunteered to remain 
 and work on it. Wearily the hours dragged on, 
 but there was no rest for my busy fingers. I 
 persevered in my task, notwithstanding my head 
 was aching. Mrs. Davis was busy in the adjoin 
 ing room, arranging the Christmas tree for the 
 children. I looked at the clock, and the hands 
 pointed to a quarter of twelve. I w r as arranging 
 the cords on the gown when the Senator came 
 
68 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 in; he looked somewhat careworn, and his step 
 seemed to be a little nervous. lie leaned 
 against the door, and expressed his admiration of 
 the Christmas tree, but there was no smile on his 
 face. Turning round, he saw me sitting in the 
 adjoining room, and quickly exclaimed : 
 
 " That you, Lizzie ! why are you here so late ? 
 Still at work ; I hope that Mrs. Davis is not too 
 exacting !" 
 
 " No, sir," I answered. " Mrs. Davis was very 
 anxious to have this gown finished to-night, and 
 I volunteered to remain and complete it." 
 
 " "Well, well, the case must be urgent," and he 
 came slowly towards me, took the gown in his 
 hand, and asked the color of the silk, as he said 
 the gas-light was so deceptive to his old eyes. 
 
 " It is a drab changeable silk, Mr. Davis," I 
 answered ; and might have added that it was rich 
 and handsome, but did not, well knowing- that he 
 
 / 
 
 would make the discovery in the morning. 
 He smiled curiously, but turned and walked 
 
Behind the Scenes. 69 
 
 from the room without another question. He 
 inferred that the gown was for him, that it was tc 
 be the Christmas present from his wife, and he 
 did not wish to destroy the pleasure that she 
 would experience in believing that the gift would 
 prove a surprise. In this respect, as in many 
 others, he always appeared to rue as a thoughtful, 
 considerate man in the domestic circle. As the 
 clock struck twelve I finished the gown, little 
 dreaming of the future that was before it. It 
 was worn, I have not the shadow of a doubt, by 
 Mr. Davis during the stormy years that he was 
 the President of the Confederate States. 
 
 The holidays passed, and before the close of 
 January the war was discussed in Mr. Da vis s 
 family as an event certain to happen in the 
 future. Mrs. Davis was warmly attached to 
 Washington, and I often heard her say that she 
 disliked the idea of breaking up old associations, 
 and going South to suffer from trouble and de 
 privation. One day, while discussing the ques- 
 
70 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 tion in my presence with one of her intimate 
 friends, she exclaimed : "I would rather remain 
 in Washington and be kicked about, than go 
 South and be Mrs. President." Her friend ex 
 pressed surprise at the remark, and Mrs. Davis 
 insisted that the opinion was an honest one. 
 
 While dressing her one day, she said to me : 
 " Lizzie, you are so very handy that I should like 
 to take you South with me." 
 
 "When do you go South, Mrs. Davis?" I 
 inquired. 
 
 "Oh, I cannot tell just now, but it will be 
 soon. You know there is going to be war, 
 Lizzie?" 
 
 "But I tell you yes." 
 
 "Who will go to war?" I asked. 
 
 " The North and South," was her ready reply. 
 " The Southern people will not submit to the hu 
 miliating demands of the Abolition party ; they 
 will fight first." 
 
Behind the Scenes. 71 
 
 " And which do you think will whip ? " 
 
 " The South, of course. The South is impul 
 sive, is in earnest, and the Southern soldiers will 
 fight to conquer. The North will yield, when it 
 sees the South is in earnest, rather than engage 
 in a long and bloody war." 
 
 "But, Mrs. Davis, are you certain that there 
 will be war?" 
 
 "Certain! I know it. You had better go 
 South with me; I will take good care of you. 
 Besides, when the war breaks out, the colored 
 people will suffer in the North. The Northern 
 people will look upon them as the cause of the 
 war, and I fear, in their exasperation, will be 
 inclined to treat you harshly. Then, I may 
 come back to Washington in a few months, and 
 live in the White House. The Southern people 
 talk of choosing Mr. Davis for their President. 
 In fact, it may be considered settled that he will 
 be their President. As soon as we go South and 
 secede from the other States, we will raise an 
 
72 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 army and march on Washington, and then I 
 shall -Kve in the White House." 
 
 I was bewildered with what I heard. I had 
 served Mrs. Davis faithfully, and she had learned 
 to place the greatest confidence in me. At first 
 I was almost tempted to go South with her, for 
 her reasoning seemed plausible. At the time the 
 conversation was closed, with my promise to con 
 sider the question. 
 
 I thought over the question much, and the 
 more I thought the less inclined I felt to accept 
 the proposition so kindly made by Mrs. Davis. 
 I knew the North to be strong, and believed that 
 the people would fight for the flag that they pre 
 tended to venerate so highly. The Republican 
 party had just emerged from a heated campaign, 
 flushed with victory, and I could not think that 
 the hosts composing the party would quietly 
 yield all they had gained in the Presidential can 
 vass. A show of war from the South, I felt, 
 would lead to actual war in the North ; and with 
 
Behind tJie Scenes. 73 
 
 the two sections bitterly arrayed against each 
 other, I preferred to cast my lot among the peo 
 ple of the North. 
 
 I parted with Mrs. Davis kindly, half promis 
 ing to join her in the South if further delibera 
 tion should induce me to change my views. A 
 few weeks before she left Washington I made 
 two chintz wrappers for her. She said that she 
 must give up expensive dressing for a while ; arid 
 that she, with the Southern people, now that 
 war was imminent, must learn to practise lessons 
 of economy. She left some fine needle-work in 
 my hands, which I finished, and forwarded to 
 her at Montgomery, Alabama, in the month of 
 June, through the assistance of Mrs. Emory, one 
 of her oldest and best friends. 
 
 Since bidding them good-by at Washington, 
 early in the year 1860, I have never met any of 
 the Davis family. Years of excitement, years of 
 bloodshed, and hundreds of thousands of graves 
 intervene between the months I spent in the 
 
74 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 family and now. The years have brought many 
 changes ; and in view of these terrible changes 
 even I, who was once a slave, who have been 
 punished with the cruel lash, who have experi 
 enced the heart and soul tortures of a slave s life, 
 can say to Mr. Jefferson Davis, "Peace! you 
 have suffered ! Go in peace." 
 
 In the winter of 1865 I was in Chicago, 
 and one day visited the great charity fair held 
 for the benefit of the families of those soldiers 
 who were killed or wounded during the war. 
 In one part of the building was a wax figure 
 of Jefferson Davis, wearing over his other gar 
 ments the dress in which it was reported that he 
 was captured. There was always a great crowd 
 around this figure, and I was naturally attracted 
 towards it. I worked my way to the figure, and 
 in examining the dress made the pleasing dis 
 covery that it was one of the chintz wrap 
 pers that I had made for Mrs. Davis, a short 
 time before she departed from Washington for 
 
Behind the Scenes. 75 
 
 the South. When it was announced that 1 
 recognized the dress as one that I had made 
 for the wife of the late Confederate President 
 there was great cheering and excitement, and 
 I at onee became an object of the deepest 
 curiosity. Great crowds followed me, and in 
 order to escape from the embarrassing situation 
 I left the building. 
 
 I believe it now is pretty well established that 
 Mr. Davis had on a water-proof cloak instead of 
 a dress, as first reported, when he was captured. 
 This does not invalidate any portion of my story. 
 The dress on the wax figure at the fair in 
 Chicago unquestionably was one of the chintz 
 wrappers that I made for Mrs. Davis in January, 
 1860, in Washington ; and I infer, since it was not 
 found on the body of the fugitive President of 
 the South, it was taken from the trunks of Mrs. 
 Davis, captured at the same time. Be this as it 
 may, the coincidence is none the less striking and 
 curious. 
 
CHAPTEK Y. 
 MY INTRODUCTION TO MRS. LINCOLN. 
 
 IYER since arriving in Washington I 
 had a great desire to work for the 
 ladies of the "White House, and to 
 accomplish this end I was ready to 
 make almost any sacrifice consistent with pro 
 priety. Work came in slowly, and I was be 
 ginning to feel very much embarrassed, for I did 
 not know how I was to meet the bills staring me 
 in the face. It is true, the bills were small, but 
 then they were formidable to me, who had little 
 or nothing to pay them with. While in this situa 
 tion I called at the Ringolds, where I met Mrs. 
 
Befwnd the Scenes. 77 
 
 Captain Lee. Mrs. L. was in a state bordering on 
 excitement, as the great event of the season, the 
 dinner-party given in honor of the Prince of 
 Wales, was sdon to come off, and she must have 
 a dress suitable for the occasion. The silk had 
 been purchased, but a dress-maker had not yet 
 been found. Miss Ringold recommended me, 
 and I received the order to make the dress. 
 When I called on Mrs. Lee the next day, her 
 husband was in the room, and handing me a roll 
 of bank bills, amounting to one hundred dollars, 
 he requested me to purchase the trimmings, and 
 to spare no expense in making a selection. With 
 the money in my pocket I went out in the street, 
 entered the store of Harper & Mitchell, and 
 asked to look at their laces. Mr. Harper waited 
 on me himself, and was polite and kind. When 
 I asked permission to carry the laces to Mrs. Lee, 
 in order to learn whether she could approve my 
 selection or not, he gave a ready assent. When I 
 reminded him that I was a stranger, and that the 
 
78 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 goods were valuable, he remarked that he was 
 not afraid to trust me that he believed my face 
 was the index to an honest heart. It was 
 pleasant to be spoken to thus, and I shall never 
 forget the kind words of Mr. Harper. I often 
 recall them, for they are associated with the dawn 
 of a brighter period in my dark life. I pur 
 chased the trimmings, and Mr. Harper allowed 
 me a commission of twenty-five dollars on the 
 purchase. The dress was done in time, and it 
 gave complete satisfaction. Mrs. Lee attracted 
 great attention at the dinner-party, and her 
 elegant dress proved a good card for me. I re 
 ceived numerous orders, and was relieved from 
 all pecuniary embarrassments. One of my 
 patrons was Mrs. Gen. McClean, a daughter of 
 Gen. Sumner. One day when I was very busy, 
 Mrs. McC. drove up to my apartments, came in 
 where I was engaged with my needle, and in her 
 emphatic way said : 
 
 " Lizzie, I am invited to dine at Willard s on 
 
Behind the Scenes. 79 
 
 next Sunday, and positively I have not a dre&s 
 tit to wear on the occasion. I have just pur 
 chased material, and you must commence work 
 on it right away." 
 
 " But Mrs. MeClean," I replied, " I have more 
 work now promised than I can do. It is impos 
 sible for me to make a dress for you to wear on 
 Sunday next." 
 
 " Pshaw ! Nothing is impossible. I must 
 have the dress made by Sunday ;" and she spoke 
 with some impatience. 
 
 "I am sorry," I began, but- she interrupted 
 me. 
 
 " Now don t say no again. 1 tell you that 
 you must make the dress. I have often heard 
 you say that you would like to work for the 
 ladies of the "White House. Well, I have it in 
 my power to obtain you this privilege. I know 
 Mrs. Lincoln well, and you shall make a dress 
 for her provided you finish mine in time to wear 
 at dinner on Sunday." 
 
80 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 The inducement was the best that could have 
 been offered. I would undertake the dress if I 
 should have to sit up all night every night, to 
 make my pledge good. I sent out and employed 
 assistants, and, after much worry and trouble, the 
 dress was completed to the satisfaction of Mrs. 
 McClean. It appears that Mrs. Lincoln had upset 
 a cup of coffee on the dress she designed wearing 
 on the evening of the reception after the inaugu 
 ration of Abraham Lincoln as President of the 
 United States, which rendered it necessary that 
 she should have a new one for the occasion. On 
 asking Mrs. McClean who her dress-maker was, 
 that lady promptly informed her, 
 
 "Lizzie Keckley." 
 
 "Lizzie Keckley? The name is familiar to 
 me. She used to \vork for some of my lady 
 friends in St. Louis, and they spoke well of her. 
 Can you recommend her to me ? " 
 
 " With confidence. Shall I send her to 
 you?" 
 
Behind the Scenes. 81 
 
 " If yon please. I shall feel under many ob 
 ligations for your kindness." 
 
 The next Sunday Mrs. McClean sent me a 
 message to call at her house at four o clock P.M., 
 that day. As she did not state why I was to 
 call, I determined to wait till Monday morning. 
 Monday morning came, and nine o clock found 
 me at Mrs. McC. s house. The streets of the 
 capital were thronged with people, for this was 
 Inauguration day. A new President, a man of 
 the people, from the broad prairies of the West, 
 was to accept the solemn oath of office, was to 
 assume the responsibilities attached to the high 
 position of Chief Magistrate of the United States. 
 Never was sucli deep interest felt in the inau 
 guration proceedings as was felt to-day ; for 
 threats of assassination had been made, and every 
 breeze from the South came heavily laden with 
 the rumors of war. Around Willard s hotel 
 swayed an excited crowd, and it was with the 
 
 utmost difficulty that I worked my way to the 
 
 4* 
 
82 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 house on the opposite side of the street, occu 
 pied by the McCleans. Mrs. McClean was out, 
 but presently an aide on General McClean s staff 
 called, and informed me that I was wanted at 
 Willard s. I crossed the street, and on entering 
 the hotel was met by Mrs. McClean, who greeted 
 me: 
 
 " Lizzie, why did you not come yesterday, as 
 I requested ? Mrs. Lincoln wanted to see you, 
 but I fear that now you are too late." 
 
 "I am sorry, Mrs. McClean. You did not 
 say what you wanted with me yesterday, so I 
 judged that this morning would do as well." 
 
 "You should have come yesterday," she in 
 sisted. " Go up to Mrs. Lincoln s room " giv 
 ing me the number " she may find use for you 
 yet." 
 
 With a nervous step I passed on, and knocked 
 at Mrs. Lincoln s door. A cheery voice bade 
 me come in, and a lady, inclined to stoutness, 
 about forty years of age, stood before me. 
 
Behind the Scenes. 83 
 
 "You are Lizzie Keckley, I believe." 
 
 I bowed assent. 
 
 " The dress-maker that Mrs. McClean recom 
 mended ? " 
 
 "Yes, madam." 
 
 "Yery well; I have not time to talk to you 
 now, but would like to have you call at the 
 "White House, at eight o clock to-morrow morn 
 ing, where I shall then be." 
 
 I bowed myself out of the room, and returned 
 to my apartments. The day passed slowly, for 
 I could not help but speculate in relation to the 
 appointed interview for the morrow. My long- 
 cherished hope was about to be realized, and I 
 could not rest. 
 
 Tuesday morning, at eight o clock, I crossed 
 the threshold of the White House for the first 
 time. I was shown into a waiting-room, and 
 informed that Mrs. Lincoln was at breakfast. 
 In the waiting-room I found no less than three 
 mantua-makers waiting for an interview with the 
 
84: Behind the Scenes. 
 
 wife of the new President. It seems that Mrs. 
 Lincoln had told several of her lady friends that 
 she had urgent need for a dress-maker, and that 
 each of these friends had sent her mantua-maker 
 to the White House. Hope fell at once. With 
 so many rivals .for the position sought after, I re 
 garded my chances for success as .extremely doubt 
 ful. I w r as the last one summoned to Mrs. Lin 
 coln s presence. All the others had a hearing, 
 and were dismissed. I went up-stairs timidly, 
 and entering the room with nervous step, dis 
 covered the wife of the President standing by a 
 window, looking out, and engaged in lively con 
 versation with a lady, Mrs. Grimsly, as I after 
 wards learned. Mrs. L. came forward, and greet 
 ed me warmly. 
 
 " You have come at -last. Mrs. Keckley, who 
 have you worked for in the city ?" 
 
 " Among others, Mrs. Senator Davis has been 
 one of my best patrons," was my reply. 
 
 " Mrs. Davis ! So you have worked for her, 
 
Behind the Scenes. 85 
 
 have you ? Of course you gave satisfaction ; so 
 far, good. Can you do ray work ? " 
 
 "Yes, Mrs. Lincoln. Will you have much 
 work for me to do ? " 
 
 " That, Mrs. Keckley, will depend altogether 
 upon your prices. I trust that your terms are 
 reasonable. I cannot afford to be extravagant. 
 We are just from the West, and are poor. If you 
 do not charge too much, I shall be able to give 
 you all my work." 
 
 "I do not think there will be any difficulty 
 about charges, Mrs. Lincoln ; my terms are 
 reasonable." 
 
 " Well, if you will work cheap, you shall have 
 plenty to do. I can t afford to pay big prices, so 
 I frankly tell you so in the beginning." 
 
 The terms were satisfactorily arranged, and I 
 measured Mrs. Lincoln, took the dress with me, 
 a bright rose-colored moire-antique, and returned 
 the next day to n t it on her. A number of ladies 
 were in the room, all making preparations for 
 
86 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 the levee to come off on Friday night. These 
 ladies, I learned, were relatives of Mrs. L. s, Mrs. 
 Edwards and Mrs. Kellogg, her own sisters, and 
 Elizabeth Edwards and Julia Baker, her nieces. 
 Mrs. Lincoln this morning was dressed in a cash 
 mere wrapper, quilted down the front ; and she 
 wore a simple head-dress. The other ladies wore 
 morning robes. 
 
 I was hard at work on the dress, when I was 
 informed that the ]evee had been postponed from 
 Friday night till Tuesday night. This, of 
 course, gave me more time to complete my task. 
 Mrs. Lincoln sent for me, and suggested some 
 alteration in style, which was made. She also 
 requested that I make a waist of blue watered 
 silk for Mrs. Grimsly, as work on the dress 
 would not require all my time. 
 
 Tuesday evening came, and I had taken the 
 last stitches on the dress. I folded it and carried 
 it to the White House, with the waist for Mrs. 
 Grimsly. When I went up-stairs, I found the 
 
Behind the Scenes. 87 
 
 ladies in a terrible state of excitement. Mrs. 
 Lincoln was protesting that she could not go 
 down, for the reason that she had nothing to 
 wear. 
 
 " Mrs. Keckley, you have disappointed me de 
 ceived me. Why do you bring my dress at this 
 late hour ? " 
 
 " Because I have just finished it, and I thought 
 i should be in time." 
 
 " But you are not in time, Mrs. Keckley ; you 
 have bitterly disappointed me. I have no time 
 now to dress, and, what is more, I will not dress, 
 and go down-stairs." 
 
 " I am sorry if I have disappointed you, Mrs. 
 Lincoln, for I intended to be in time. Will you 
 let me dress you ? I can have you ready in a 
 few minutes." 
 
 " No, I won t be dressed. I will stay in my 
 room. Mr. Lincoln can go down with the other 
 ladies." 
 
 " But there is plenty of time for you to dress, 
 
88 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 Mary," joined in Mrs. Grimsly and Mrs. Edwards. 
 " Let Mrs. Keckley assist you, and she will soon 
 have you ready." 
 
 Thus urged, she consented. I dressed her hair, 
 and arranged the dress on her. It fitted nicely, 
 and she was pleased. Mr. Lincoln came in, threw 
 himself on the sofa, laughed with Willie and 
 little Tad, and then commenced pulling on his 
 gloves, quoting poetry all the while. 
 
 " You seem to be in a poetical mood to-night," 
 said his wife. 
 
 " Yes, mother, these are poetical times," was 
 his pleasant reply. " I declare, you look charm 
 ing in that dress. Mrs. Keckley has met with 
 great success." And then he proceeded to com 
 pliment the other ladies 
 
 Mrs. Lincoln looked elegant in her rose-colored 
 moire-antique. She wore a pearl necklace, pearl 
 ear-rings, pearl bracelets, and red roses in her 
 hair. Mrs. Baker was dressed in lemon-colored 
 silk ; Mrs. Kellogg in a drab silk, ashes of rose ; 
 
Behind the Scenes. 89 
 
 Mrs. Edwards in a brown and black silk ; Miss 
 Edwards in crimson, and Mrs. Grimsly in blue 
 watered silk. Just before starting down-stairs, 
 Mrs. Lincoln s lace handkerchief was the object 
 of search. It had been displaced by Tad, who 
 was mischievous, and hard to restrain. The 
 handkerchief found, all became serene. Mrs. 
 Lincoln took the President s arm, and with smi 
 ling face led the train below. I was surprised at 
 her grace and composure. 1 had heard so much, 
 in current and malicious report, of her low life, 
 of her ignorance and vulgarity, that I expected 
 to see her embarrassed on this occasion. Report, 
 I soon saw, was wrong. TSTo queen, accustomed 
 to the usages of royalty all her life, could have 
 comported herself with more calmness and dig 
 nity than did the wife of the President. She was 
 confident and self-possessed, and confidence al 
 ways gives grace. 
 
 This levee was a brilliant one, and the only 
 one of the season. I became the regular modiste 
 
90 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 of Mrs. Lincoln. I made fifteen or sixteen 
 dresses for her during the spring and early part 
 of the summer, when she left Washington ; 
 spending the hot weather at Saratoga, Long 
 Branch, and other places. In the mean time I 
 was employed by Mrs. Senator Douglas, one of 
 the loveliest ladies that I ever met, Mrs. Secretary 
 Wells, Mrs. Secretary Stanton, and others. Mrs. 
 Douglas always dressed in deep mourning, with 
 excellent taste, and several of the leading ladies 
 of Washington society were extremely jealous of 
 her superior attractions. 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 WILLIE LINCOLN S DEATH-BED. 
 
 ES. LINCOLN returned to Wash 
 ington in November, and again 
 duty called me to the White House. 
 The war was new in progress, and 
 every day brought stirring news from the front 
 the front, where the Gray opposed the Blue, 
 where flashed the bright sabre in the sunshine, 
 where were heard the angry notes of battle, the 
 deep roar of cannon, and the fearful rattle of mus 
 ketry ; where new graves were being made every 
 day, where brother forgot a mother s early bless- 
 ino- and sought the life-blood of brother, and 
 
 o ~ 
 
 friend raised the deadly knife against friend. 
 
92 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 Oh, the front, with its stirring battle-seer es ! 
 Oh, the front, with its ghastly heaps of dead ! 
 The life of the nation was at stake ; and when the 
 land was full of sorrow, there could not he much 
 gayety at the capital. The days passed quietly 
 with me. I soon learned that some people had an 
 intense desire to penetrate the inner circle of the 
 White House. No President and his family, 
 heretofore occupying this mansion, ever excited 
 so much curiosity as the present incumbents. 
 Mr. Lincoln had grown up in the wilds of the 
 West, and evil report had said much of him and 
 his wife. The polite world w T as shocked, and the 
 tendency to exaggerate intensified curiosity. As 
 soon as it was known that I was the modiste of 
 Mrs. Lincoln, parties crowded around and affect 
 ed friendship for me, hoping to induce me to be 
 tray the secrets of the domestic circle. One day 
 a woman, I will not call her a lady, drove up to 
 my rooms, gave me an order to make a dress, and 
 insisted on partly paying me in advance. She 
 
Behind the /Scenes. 93 
 
 called on me every day, and was exceedingly 
 kind. When she came to take her dress away, 
 she cautiously remarked : 
 
 " Mrs. Keckley, you know Mrs. Lincoln ? " 
 
 " Yes." , 
 
 " You are her modiste ; are you not ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " You know her very well ; do you not ? " 
 
 " I am with her every day or tw r o." 
 
 " Don t you think you would have some influ 
 ence with her ? " 
 
 " I cannot say. Mrs. Lincoln, I presume, 
 would listen to anything I should suggest, but 
 whether she would be influenced by a suggestion 
 of mine is another question." 
 
 " I am sure that you could influence her, Mrs. 
 Keckley. Now listen ; I have a proposition to 
 make. I have a great desire to become an in 
 mate of the White House. I have heard so 
 much of Mr. Lincoln s goodness that I should 
 like to be near him ; and if I can enter the 
 
94 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 White House no other way, I am willing to go 
 as a menial. My dear Mrs. Keckley, will you 
 not recommend me to Mrs. Lincoln as a friend 
 of yours out of employment, and ask her to take 
 me as a chambermaid ? If you will do this you 
 shall be well rewarded. It may be w^orth several 
 thousand dollars to you in time." 
 
 I looked at the woman in amazement. A 
 bribe, and to betray the confidence of my 
 employer ! Turning to her with a glance of 
 scorn, I said : 
 
 " Madam, you are mistaken in regard to my 
 character. Sooner than betray the trust of a 
 friend, I would throw myself into the Potomac 
 river. I am not so base as that. Pardon me, 
 but there is the door, and I trust that you will 
 never enter my room again." 
 
 She sprang to her feet in deep confusion, and 
 passed through the door, murmuring : " Very 
 well ; you will live to regret your action to 
 day." 
 
Behind the Seems. 95 
 
 " Never, never ! " I exclaimed, and closed the 
 door after her with a bang. I afterwards learned 
 that this woman was an actress, and that her 
 object was to enter the White House as a ser 
 vant, learn its secrets, and then publish a scan 
 dal to the world. I do not give her name, for 
 such publicity would wound the sensitive feel 
 ings of friends, who would have to share her 
 disgrace, without being responsible for her faults. 
 I simply record the incident to show how I 
 often was approached by unprincipled parties. 
 It is unnecessary to say that I indignantly re 
 fused every bribe offered. 
 
 The first public appearance of Mrs. Lincoln that 
 winter was at the reception on ]S"ew Year s Day. 
 This reception was shortly followed by a brilliant 
 levee. The day after the levee I went to the 
 White House, and while fitting a dress to Mrs. 
 Lincoln, she said: 
 
 "Lizabeth" she had learned to drop the E 
 "Lizabeth, I have an idea. These are war times, 
 
96 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 and we must be as economical as possible. You 
 know the President is expected to give a series 
 of state dinners every winter, and these dinners 
 are very costly ; ]S"ow I want to avoid this ex 
 pense ; and my idea is, that if I give three large 
 receptions, the state dinners can be scratched 
 from the programme. What do you think, Liza- 
 beth ? " 
 
 " I think that you are right, Mrs. Lincoln." 
 " I am glad to hear you say so. If I can make 
 Mr. Lincoln take the same view of the case, I 
 shall not fail to put the idea into practice." 
 
 Before I left her room that day, Mr. Lincoln 
 came in. She at once stated the case to him. 
 He pondered the question a few moments before 
 answering. 
 
 " Mother, I am afraid your plan will not work." 
 " But it will work, if you will only determine 
 that it shall work." 
 
 " It is breaking in on the regular custom," he 
 mildly replied. 
 
Behind the Scenes. 97 
 
 " But you forget, father, these are war times, 
 and old customs can be done away with for the 
 once. The idea is economical, you must admit." 
 
 " Yes, mother, but we must think of something 
 besides economy." 
 
 " 1 do think of something else. Public recep 
 tions are more democratic than stupid state din 
 ners are more in keeping with the spirit of the 
 institutions of our country, as you would say if 
 called upon to make a stump speech. There are 
 a great many strangers in the city, foreigners 
 and others, whom we can entertain at our re 
 ceptions, but whom we cannot invite to our 
 dinners." 
 
 " I believe you are right, mother. You argue 
 the point well. I think that we shall have to 
 decide on the receptions." 
 
 So the day was carried. The question was 
 decided, and arrangements were made for the first 
 reception. It now was January, and cards were 
 
 issued for February. 
 5 
 
98 Behind tlie Scenes. 
 
 The children, Tad and Willie, were constantly 
 receiving presents. Willie was so delighted with 
 a little pony, that he insisted on riding it every 
 day. The weather was changeable, and exposure 
 resulted in a severe cold, which deepened into 
 fever. He was very sick, and I was summoned 
 to his bedside. It was sad to see the poor boy 
 Buffer. Always of a delicate constitution, he 
 could not resist the strong inroads of disease. 
 The days dragged wearily by, and he grew weak 
 er and more shadow-like. He was his mother s 
 favorite child, and she doted on him. It grieved 
 her heart sorely to see him suffer. When able to 
 be about, he was almost constantly by her side. 
 When I would go in her room, almost always I 
 found blue-eyed Willie there, reading from an 
 open book, or curled up in a chair with pencil 
 and paper in hand. He had decidedly a literary 
 taste, and was a studious boy. A short time 
 before his death he wrote this simple little 
 poem : 
 
Behind the Scenes. 99 
 
 "WASHINGTON, D. C., October 30, 1861. 
 " DEAR Sra : I enclose you my first attempt at 
 poetry. 
 
 " Yours truly, 
 
 "Wn. W. LINCOLN. 
 To the Editor of the National Republican." 
 
 LIKES 
 OX THE DEATH OF COLONEL EDWARD BAKER. 
 
 THERE was no patriot like Bakor, 
 
 So noble and so true ; 
 He fell as a soldier on the field, 
 
 His face to the sky of blue. 
 
 His voice is silent in the hall 
 
 Which oft his presence graced ; 
 No more he ll hear the loud acclaim 
 
 Which rang from place to place. 
 
 No squeamish notions filled his breast, 
 
 The Union was his theme ; 
 No surrender and np compromise," 
 
 His day-thought and night s dream. 
 
100 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 His Country has her part to pay 
 
 To rds those he has left behind ; 
 His widow and his children all, 
 
 She must always keep in mind. 
 
 Finding that Willie continued to grow worse, 
 Mrs. Lincoln determined to withdraw her cards 
 of invitation and postpone the reception. Mr. 
 Lincoln thought that the cards had better not be 
 withdrawn. At least he advised that the doctor 
 be consulted before any steps were taken. Ac 
 cordingly Dr. Stone was called in. He pro 
 nounced Willie better, and said that there was 
 every reason for an early recovery. He thought, 
 since the invitations had been issued, it would be 
 best to go on with the reception. Willie, he 
 insisted, was in no immediate danger. Mrs. 
 Lincoln was guided by these counsels, and no 
 postponement was announced. On the evening 
 of the reception Willie was suddenly taken 
 worse. His mother sat by his bedside a long 
 while, holding his feverish hand in he^ own, and 
 
Behind the Scenes. 101 
 
 watching his labored breathing. The doctor 
 claimed there was no cause for alarm. I arran 
 ged Mrs. Lincoln s hair, then assisted her to 
 dress. Her dress was white satin, trimmed with 
 black lace. The trail was very long, and as she 
 swept through the room, Mr. Lincoln was stand 
 ing with his back to the fire, his hands behind 
 him, and his eyes on the carpet. His face wore 
 a thoughtful, solemn look. The rustling of the 
 satin dress attracted his attention. He looked at 
 it a few moments ; then, in his quaint, quiet way 
 remarked 
 
 " Whew ! our cat has a long tail to-night." 
 Mrs. Lincoln did not reply. The President 
 added : 
 
 " Mother, it is my opinion, if some of that tail 
 was nearer the head, it w^ould be in better 
 style ; " and he glanced at her bare arms and 
 neck. She had a beautiful neck and arm, and 
 low dresses were becoming to her. She turned 
 away with a look of offended dignity, and pre- 
 
102 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 sently took the President s arm, arid both went 
 down-stairs to their guests, leaving me alone with 
 the sick boy. 
 
 The reception was a large and brilliant one, 
 and the rich notes of the Marine Band in the 
 apartments below came to the sick-room in soft, 
 subdued murmurs, like the wild, faint sobbing of 
 far-off spirits. Some of the young people had 
 suggested dancing, but Mr. Lincoln met the 
 suggestion with an emphatic veto. The brilliance 
 of the scene could not dispel the sadness that 
 rested upon the face of Mrs. Lincoln. During 
 the evening she came up-stairs several times, and 
 stood by the bedside of the suffering boy. She 
 loved him with a mother s heart, and her anxiety 
 was great. The night passed slowly ; morning 
 came, and Willie was worse. He lingered a few 
 days, and died. God called the beautiful spirit 
 home, and the house of joy was turned into the 
 house of mourning. I was worn out with watch 
 ing, and was not in the room when Willie died. 
 
Behind the Scenes. 103 
 
 but was immediately sent for. I assisted in 
 washing him and dressing him, and then laid 
 him on the bed, when Mr. Lincoln came in. I 
 never saw a man so bowed down with grief. He 
 came to the bed, lifted the cover from the face of 
 his child, gazed at it long and earnestly, mur 
 muring, " My poor boy, he was too good for this 
 earth. God has called him home. I know that 
 he is much better off in heaven, but then we 
 loved him so. It is hard, hard to have him 
 die ! " 
 
 Great sobs choked his utterance. He buried 
 his head in his hands, and his tall frame was con 
 vulsed with emotion. I stood at the foot of the 
 bed, my eyes full of tears, looking at the man 
 in silent, awe-stricken wonder. His grief un 
 nerved him, and made him a weak, passive child. 
 I did not dream that his rugged nature could be 
 so moved. I shall never forget those solemn 
 moments genius and greatness weeping over 
 love s idol lost. There is a grandeur as well as a 
 
104 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 simplicity about the picture that will never fade. 
 "With me it is immortal I really believe that I 
 shall carry it with me across the dark, mysterious 
 river of death. 
 
 Mrs. Lincoln s grief was inconsolable. The 
 pale face of her dead boy threw her into con 
 vulsions. Around him love s tendrils had been 
 twined, and now that he was dressed for the 
 tomb, it was like tearing the tendrils out of the 
 heart by their roots. "Willie, she often said, if 
 spared by Providence, would be the hope and stay 
 of her old age. But Providence had not spared 
 him. The light faded from his eyes, and the 
 death-dew had gathered on his brow. 
 
 In one of her paroxysms of grief the President 
 kindly bent over his wife, took her by the arm, 
 and gently led her to the window. "With a 
 stately, solemn gesture, he pointed to the lunatic 
 asylum. 
 
 " Mother, do you see that large white building 
 on the hill yonder ? Try and control your grief, 
 
Behind the Scenes. 105 
 
 or it will drive you mad, and we may have to 
 send you there." 
 
 Mrs. Lincoln was so completely overwhelmed 
 with sorrow that she did not attend the funeral. 
 "Willie was laid to rest in the cemetery, and the 
 White House was draped in mourning. Black 
 crape everywhere met the eye, contrasting 
 strangely with the gay and brilliant colors of a 
 few days before. Party dresses were laid aside, 
 and every one who crossed the threshold of the 
 Presidential mansion spoke in subdued tones 
 when they thought of the sweet boy at rest 
 " Under the sod and the dew." 
 
 Previous to this I had lost my son. Leaving 
 Wilberforce, he went to the battle-field with the 
 three months troops, and was killed in Missouri 
 found his grave on the battle-field where the 
 gallant General Lyon fell. It was a sad blow to 
 me, and the kind womanly letter that Mrs. Lin 
 coln wrote to me when she heard of my bereave 
 ment was full of golden words of comfort. 
 5* 
 
106 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 Nathaniel Parker Willis, the genial poet, now 
 sleeping in his grave, wrote this beautiful sketch 
 of Willie Lincoln, after the sad death of the 
 bright-eyed boy : 
 
 " This little fellow had his acquaintances 
 among his father s friends, and I chanced to be 
 one of them. He never failed to seek me out in 
 the crowd, shake hands, and make some pleasant 
 remark ; and this, in a boy of ten years of age, 
 was, to say the least, endearing to a stranger. 
 But he had more than mere affection ateness. 
 His self-possession aplomb, as the French call 
 it was extraordinary. I was one day passing 
 the White House, when he was outside with a 
 play-fellow on the side-walk. Mr. Seward drove 
 in, with Prince Napoleon and two of his suite in. 
 the carriage ; and, in a mock-heroic way terms 
 of intimacy evidently existing between the boy 
 and the Secretary the official gentleman took 
 off his hat, and the Napoleon did the same, all 
 making the young Prince President a ceremo- 
 
Behind the Scenes. 107 
 
 nious salute. Not a bit staggered with the hom 
 age, Willie drew himself up to his full height, 
 took off his little cap with graceful self-posses 
 sion, and bowed down formally to the ground, 
 like a little ambassador. They drove past, and 
 he went on unconcernedly with his play: the 
 impromptu readiness and good judgment being 
 clearly a part of his nature. His genial and 
 open expression of countenance was none the less 
 ingenuous and fearless for a certain tincture of 
 fun ; and it was in this mingling of qualities that 
 he so faithfully resembled his father. 
 
 "With all the splendor that was around this 
 little fellow in his new home, he was so bravely 
 and beautifully himself and that only. A wild 
 flower transplanted from the prairie to the hot 
 house, he retained his prairie habits, unalterably 
 pure and simple, till he died. His leading trait 
 seemed to be a fearless and kindly frankness, 
 willing that everything should be as different as 
 it pleased, but resting unmoved in his own con- 
 
108 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 scions single-heartedness. I found I was study 
 ing him irresistibly, as one of the sweet problems 
 of childhood that the world is blessed with in 
 rare places ; and the news of his death (I was 
 absent from Washington, on a visit to my own 
 children, at the time) came to me like a knell 
 heard unexpectedly at a merry-making. 
 
 " On the day of the funeral I went before the 
 hour, to take a near farewell look at the dear 
 boy ; for they had embalmed him to send home 
 to the West to sleep under the sod of his own 
 valley and the coffin-lid was to be closed be 
 fore the service. The family had just taken 
 their leave of him, and the servants and nurses 
 were seeing him for the last time and with 
 tears and sobs wholly unrestrained, for he was 
 loved like an idol by every one of them. He 
 lay with eyes closed his brown hair parted as 
 we had known it pale in the slumber of death ; 
 but otherwise unchanged, for he was dressed as 
 if for the evening, and held in one of his hands, 
 
Behind the Scenes. 109 
 
 crossed upon his breast, a bunch of exquisite 
 flowers a message coming from his mother, 
 while we were looking upon him, that those 
 flowers might be preserved for her. She was 
 lying sick in her bed, worn out with grief and 
 overwatching. 
 
 " The funeral was very touching. Of the en 
 tertainments in the East E-oom the boy had been 
 for those who now assembled more especially 
 a most life-giving variation. With his bright 
 face, and his apt greetings and replies, he was 
 remembered in every part of that crimson-cur 
 tained hall, built only for pleasure of all the 
 crowds, each night, certainly the one least likely 
 to be death s first mark. He was his father s 
 favorite. They were intimates often seen hand 
 in hand. And there sat the man, with a burden 
 on his brain at which the world marvels bent 
 now with the load at both heart and brain 
 staggering under a blow like the taking from 
 him of his child ! His men of power sat around 
 
110 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 him McClellan, with a moist eye when he 
 bowed to the prayer, as I could see from where 
 I stood ; and Chase and Seward, with their aus 
 tere features at work; and senators, and ambas 
 sadors, and soldiers, all struggling with their 
 tears great hearts sorrowing with the President 
 as a stricken man and a brother. That God 
 may give him strength for all his burdens is, 
 I am sur-e, at present the prayer of a nation." 
 This sketch was very much admired by Mrs. 
 Lincoln. I copy it from the scrap-book in which 
 she pasted it, with many tears, with her own 
 hands. 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 WASHINGTON IN 1862-3. 
 
 the summer of 1862, freedmen be 
 gan to flock into Washington from 
 Maryland and Virginia. They 
 came with a great hope in their 
 hearts, and with all their worldly goods on their 
 backs. Fresh from the bonds of slavery, fresh 
 from the benighted regions of the plantation, they 
 came to the Capital looking for liberty, and many 
 of them not knowing it when they found it. 
 Many good friends reached forth kind hands, but 
 the North is not warm and impulsive. For one 
 kind word spoken, two harsh ones were uttered ; 
 
112 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 there was something repelling in the atmosphere, 
 and the bright joyous dreams of freedom to the 
 slave faded were sadly altered, in the presence 
 of that stern, practical mother, reality. Instead 
 of flowery paths, days of perpetual sunshine, and 
 bowers hanging with golden fruit, the road was 
 rugged and full of thorns, the sunshine was eclip 
 sed by shadows, and the mute appeals for help 
 too often were answered by cold neglect. Poor 
 dusky children of slavery, men and women of my 
 own race the transition from slavery to freedom 
 was too sudden for you ! The bright dreams 
 were too rudely dispelled ; you w r ere not prepared 
 for the new life that opened before you, and the 
 great masses of the North learned to look upon 
 your helplessness with indifference learned to 
 speak of you as an idle, dependent race. Reason 
 should have prompted kinder thoughts. Charity 
 is ever kind. 
 
 One fair summer evening I was walking the 
 streets of Washington, accompanied by a friend, 
 
Behind the Scenes. 113 
 
 when a band of music was heard in the distance. 
 We wondered what it could mean, and curiosity 
 prompted us to find out its meaning. We 
 quickened our steps, and discovered that it came 
 from the house of Mrs. Farnham. The yard was 
 brilliantly lighted, ladies and gentlemen were 
 moving about, and the band, was playing some 
 of its sweetest airs. We approached the sentinel 
 on duty at the gate, and asked what was going 
 on. He told us that it was a festival given for 
 the benefit of the sick and wounded soldiers in 
 the city. This suggested an idea to me. If the 
 white people can give festivals to raise funds for 
 the relief of suffering soldiers, why should not the 
 well-to-do colored people go to work to do 
 something for the benefit of the suffering blacks ? 
 I could not rest. The thought was ever present 
 with me, and the next Sunday I made a sugges 
 tion in the colored church, that a society of 
 colored people be formed to labor for the benefit 
 of the unfortunate freedmen. The idea proved 
 
114: Behind the Scenes. 
 
 popular, and in two weeks " the Contraband 
 Relief Association " was organized, with forty 
 working members. 
 
 In September of 1862, Mrs. Lincoln left Wash 
 ington for New York, and requested me to fol 
 low her in a few days, and join her at the Metro 
 politan Hotel. I was glad of the opportunity to 
 do so, for I thought that in New York I would 
 be able to do something in the interests of our 
 society. Armed with credentials, I took the 
 train for New York, and went to the Metropoli 
 tan, where Mrs. Lincoln had secured accommoda 
 tions for me. The next morning I told Mrs. Lin 
 coln of my project ; and she immediately headed 
 my list with a subscription of $200. I circulated 
 among the colored people, and got them tho 
 roughly interested in the subject, w T hen I was 
 called to Boston by Mrs. Lincoln, who wished to 
 visit her son Robert, attending college in that 
 city. I met Mr. Wendell Phillips, and other 
 Boston philanthropists, who gave me all the 
 
Behind the Scenes. 115 
 
 assistance in their power. We held a mass 
 meeting at the Colored Baptist Church, Rev. 
 Mr. Grimes, in Boston, raised a sum of money, 
 and organized there a branch society. The soci 
 ety was organized by Mrs. Grimes, wife of the 
 pastor, assisted by Mrs. Martin, wife of Rev. 
 Stella Martin. This branch of the main society, 
 during the war, was able to send us over eighty 
 large boxes of goods, contributed exclusively by 
 the colored people of Boston. Returning to New 
 York, we held a successful meeting at the Shiloh 
 Church, Rev. Henry Plighland Garnet, pastor. 
 The Metropolitan Hotel, at that time as now, 
 employed colored help. I suggested the object 
 of ni} mission to Robert Thompson, Steward of 
 the Hotel, who immediately raised quite a sum 
 of money among the dining-room waiters. Mr. 
 Frederick Douglass contributed $200, besides 
 lecturing for us. Other prominent colored men 
 sent in liberal contributions. From England* 
 
 * The Sheffield Anti- Slavery Society of England con- 
 
116 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 a large quantity of stores was received. Mrs. 
 Lincoln made frequent contributions, as also did 
 the President. In 1863 I was re-elected Presi 
 dent of the Association, w T hich office I continue 
 to hold. 
 
 For two years after "Willie s death the White 
 House was the scene of no fashionable display. 
 The memory of the dead boy was duly respected. 
 In some things Mrs. Lincoln was an altered 
 woman. Sometimes, when in her room, with no 
 one present but myself, the mere mention of 
 "Willie s name would excite her emotion, and 
 any trifling memento that recalled him would 
 move her to tears. She could not bear to look 
 upon his picture ; and after his death she never 
 
 tributed through Mr. Frederick Douglass, to the Freed- 
 men s Relief Association, $24.00; Aberdeen Ladies Society, 
 $40.00 ; Anti-Slavery Society of Edinburgh, Scotland, $48.00 ; 
 Friends at Bristol, England, $176.00; Birmingham Negro s 
 Friend Society, $50.00. Also received through Mr, Charles 
 R. Douglass, from the Birmingham Society, $33.00. 
 
Behind tlie Scenes. 117 
 
 crossed the threshold of the Guest s Room in 
 which he died, or the Green Eoom in which he 
 was embalmed. There was something super 
 natural in her dread of these things, and some 
 thing that she could not explain. Tad s nature 
 was the opposite of Willie s, and he was always 
 regarded as his father s favorite child. His black 
 eyes fairly sparkled with mischief. 
 
 The war progressed, fair fields had been stain 
 ed with blood, thousands of brave men had fallen, 
 and thousands of eyes were weeping for the fallen 
 at home. There were desolate hearthstones in 
 the South as well as in the North, and as the 
 people of my race watched the sanguinary strug 
 gle, the ebb and flow of the tide of battle, they 
 lifted their faces Zionward, as if they hoped to 
 catch a glimpse of the Promised Land beyond 
 the sulphureous clouds of smoke which shifted 
 now and then but to reveal ghastly rows of new- 
 made graves. Sometimes the very life of the 
 nation seemed to tremble with the fierce shock 
 
118 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 of arms. In 1863 the Confederates were flushed 
 with victory, and sometimes it looked as if the 
 proud flag of the Union, the glorious old Stars 
 and Stripes, must yield half its nationality to the 
 tri-barred flag that floated grandly over long 
 columns of gray. These were sad, anxious days 
 to Mr. Lincoln, and those who saw the man in 
 privacy only could tell how much he suffered. 
 One day he came into the room where I was 
 fitting a dress on Mrs. Lincoln. His step was 
 slow and heavy, and his face sad. Like a 
 tired child he threw himself upon a sofa, and 
 shaded his eyes with his hands. He was a com 
 plete picture of dejection. Mrs. Lincoln, observ 
 ing his troubled look, asked : 
 
 " Where have you been, father ? " 
 
 " To the War Department," was the brief, 
 almost sullen answer. 
 
 " Any news ? " 
 
 " Yes, plenty of news, but no good news. It 
 is dark, dark everywhere." 
 
Behind the Scenes. 119 
 
 He reached forth one of his long arms, and 
 took a small Bible from a stand near the head of 
 the sofa, opened the pages of the holy book, 
 and soon was absorbed in reading them. A 
 quarter of an hour passed, and on glancing at 
 the sofa the face of the President seemed more 
 cheerful. The dejected look was gone, and the 
 countenance was lighted up with new resolution 
 and hope. The change was so marked that I 
 could not but wonder at it, and wonder led to the 
 desire to know what book of the Bible aiforded 
 so much comfort to the reader. Making the 
 search for a missing article an excuse, I walked 
 gently around the sofa, and looking into the 
 open book, I discovered that Mr. Lincoln was 
 reading that divine comforter, Job. He read 
 with Christian eagerness, and the courage and 
 hope that he derived from the inspired pages 
 made him a new man. I almost imagined that I 
 could hear the Lord speaking to him from out 
 the whirlwind of battle : " Gird up thy loins now 
 
120 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 like a man : I will demand of thee, and declare 
 tliou unto me." What a sublime picture was 
 this ! A ruler of a mighty nation going to the 
 pages of the Bible with simple Christian eai nest- 
 ness for comfort and courage, and finding both 
 in the darkest hours of a nation s calamity. Pon 
 der it, O ye scoffers at God s Holy Word , and 
 then hang your heads for very shame ! 
 
 Frequent letters were received warning Mr. 
 Lincoln of assassination, but he never gave a 
 second thought to the mysterious warnings. The 
 letters, however, sorely troubled his wife. She 
 seemed to read impending danger in every rust 
 ling leaf, in every whisper of the wind. 
 
 " Where are you going now, father ?" she would 
 say to him, as she observed him putting on his 
 overshoes and shawl. 
 
 "I am going over to the War Department, 
 mother, ,to try and learn some news." 
 
 "But, father, you should not go out alone* 
 You know you are surrounded with danger." 
 
Behind the Scenes. 121 
 
 " All imagination. What does any one want 
 to harm me for ? Don t worry about me, mother, 
 as if I were a Jittle child, for no one is going to 
 molest me ;" and with a confident, unsuspecting 
 air he would close the door behind him, descend 
 the stairs, and pass out to his lonely walk. 
 
 For weeks, when trouble was anticipated, 
 friends of the President would sleep in the White 
 House to guard him from danger. 
 
 Robert would come home every few months, 
 bringing new joy to the family circle. He was 
 very anxious to quit school and enter the army, 
 but the move was sternly opposed by his mother. 
 
 " We have lost one son, and his loss is as much 
 as I can bear, without being called upon to make 
 another sacrifice," she would say, when the sub 
 ject was under discussion. 
 
 " But many a poor mother has given up all 
 her sons," mildly suggested Mr. Lincoln, " and 
 our son is not more dear to us than the sons of 
 
 other people are to their mothers." 
 6 
 
122 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 " That may be ; but I cannot bear to have 
 Robert exposed to danger. His services are not 
 required in the field, and the sacrifice would be 
 a needless one." 
 
 " The services of every man who loves his 
 country are required in this war. You should 
 take a liberal instead of a selfish view of the 
 question, mother." 
 
 Argument at last prevailed, and permission 
 was granted Robert to enter the army. With 
 the rank of Captain and A. D. C. he went to the 
 field, and remained in the army till the close of 
 the war. 
 
 I well recollect a little incident that gave me 
 a clearer insight into Robert s character. He was 
 at home at the time the Tom Thumb combination 
 was at "Washington. The marriage of little Hop- 
 o -my-thumb Charles Stratton to Miss Warren 
 created no little excitement in the world, and the 
 people of Washington participated in the general 
 curiosity. Some of Mrs. Lincoln s friends made 
 
Behind the Scenes. 123 
 
 her believe that it was the duty of Mrs. Lincoln 
 to show some attention to the remarkable dwarfs. 
 Tom Thumb had been caressed by royalty in the 
 Old World, and why should not the wife of the 
 President of his native country smile upon him 
 also? Verily, duty is one of the greatest bug 
 bears in life. A hasty reception was arranged, 
 and cards of invitation issued. I had dressed 
 Mrs. Lincoln, and she was ready to go below and 
 receive her guests, when Robert entered his 
 mother s room. 
 
 " You are at leisure this afternoon, are you not, 
 Robert?" 
 
 " Yes, mother." 
 
 " Of course, then, you will dress and come 
 down-stairs." 
 
 " No, mother, I do not propose to assist 
 in entertaining Tom Thumb. My notions of 
 duty, perhaps, are somewhat different from 
 yours." 
 
 Robert had a lofty soul, and he could not stoop 
 
124: Behind the Scenes. 
 
 to all of the follies and absurdities of the epheme 
 ral current of fashionable life. 
 
 Mrs. Lincoln s love for her husband sometimes 
 prompted her to act very strangely. She was 
 extremely jealous of him, and if a lady desired to 
 court her displeasure, she could select no surer 
 way to do it than to pay marked attention to the 
 President. These little jealous freaks often were 
 a source of perplexity to Mr. Lincoln. If it was 
 a reception for which they were dressing, he 
 would come into her room to conduct her down 
 stairs, and while pulling on his gloves ask, with a 
 merry twinkle in his eyes : 
 
 " Well, mother, who must I talk with to-night 
 shall it be Mrs. D. ? " 
 
 " That deceitful woman ! No, you shall not 
 listen to her flattery." 
 
 " "Well, then, what *do you say to Miss C. ? She 
 is too young and handsome to practise deceit." 
 
 " Young and handsome, you call her ! You 
 should not judge beauty for me. No, she is 
 
Behind the Scenes. 125 
 
 in league with Mrs. D., and you shall not talk 
 with her." 
 
 "Well, mother, I must talk with some one. 
 Is there any one that you do not object to ? " 
 trying to button his glove, with a mock expres 
 sion of gravity. 
 
 " I don t know as it is necessary that you 
 should talk to anybody in particular. You 
 know well enough, Mr. Lincoln, that I do not 
 approve of your flirtations with silly women, 
 just as if you were a beardless boy, fresh from 
 school." 
 
 " But, mother, I insist that I must talk with 
 somebody. I can t stand around like a simpleton, 
 and say nothing. If you will not tell me who I 
 may talk with, please tell me who I may not talk 
 with." 
 
 " There is Mrs. D. and Miss C. in particular. 
 I detest them both. Mrs. B. also will come 
 around you, but you need not listen to her 
 flattery. These are the ones in particular." 
 
126 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 " Very well, mother ; now that we have set 
 tled the question to your satisfaction, we will go 
 down-stairs ;" and always with stately dignity, 
 he proffered his arm and led the way. 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 CANDID OPINIONS. 
 
 FTEN Mr. and Mrs. Lincoln dis 
 cussed the relations of Cabinet 
 officers, and gentlemen prominent 
 in politics, in my presence. I soon 
 learned that the wife of the President had no 
 love for Mr. Salmon P. Chase, at that time Sec 
 retary of the Treasury. She was well versed in 
 human character, was somewhat suspicious of 
 those by whom she was surrounded, and often 
 her judgment was correct. Her intuition about 
 the sincerity of individuals was more accurate 
 than that of her husband. She looked beyond, 
 
128 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 and read the reflection of action in the future. 
 Her hostility to Mr. Chase was very bitter. She 
 claimed that he was a selfish politician instead 
 of a true patriot, and warned Mr. Lincoln not to 
 trust him too far. The daughter of the Secre 
 tary was quite a belle in Washington, and Mrs. 
 Lincoln, who was jealous of the popularity of 
 others, had no desire to build up her social posi 
 tion through political favor to her father. Miss 
 Chase, now Mrs. Senator Sprague, was a lovely 
 woman, and was worthy of all the admiration 
 she received. Mr. Lincoln was more confiding 
 than his wife. He never suspected the fidelity 
 of those who claimed to be his friends. Honest 
 to the very core himself, and frank as a child, he 
 never dreamed of questioning the sincerity of 
 others. 
 
 " Father, I do wish that you would inquire a 
 little into the motives of Chase," said his wife 
 one day. 
 
 The President was lying carelessly upon a 
 
Behind the Scenes. 129 
 
 sofa, holding a newspaper in his hands. " Moth 
 er, you are too suspicious. I give you credit for 
 sagacity, but you are disposed to magnify trifles. 
 Chase is a patriot, and one of my best friends." 
 
 "Yes, one of your best friends because it is 
 his interest to be so. He is anything for Chase. 
 If he thought he could make anything by it, he 
 would betray you to-morrow." 
 
 " I fear that you are prejudiced against the 
 man, mother. I know that you do him injustice." 
 
 " Mr. Lincoln, you are either blind or will not 
 see. I am not the only one that has warned you 
 against him." 
 
 " True, I receive letters daily from all parts of 
 the country, telling me not to trust Chase ; but 
 then these letters are written by the political 
 enemies of the Secretary, and it would be unjust 
 and foolish to pay any attention to them." 
 
 " Very well, you will find out some day, if you 
 live long enough, that I have read the man cor 
 rectly. I only hope that your eyes may not be 
 6* 
 
130 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 opened to the truth when it is too late." The 
 President, as far as I could judge from his con 
 versation with his wife, continued to confide in 
 Mr. Chase to the time of his tragic death. 
 
 Mrs. Lincoln was especially severe on Mr. 
 Wm. PI. Seward, Secretary of State. She but 
 rarely lost an opportunity to say an unkind word 
 of him. 
 
 One morning I went to the White House 
 earlier than usual. Mr. Lincoln was sitting in a 
 chair, reading a paper, stroking with one hand 
 the head of little Tad. I was basting a dress for 
 Mrs. Lincoln. A servant entered, and handed the 
 President a letter just brought by a messenger. 
 He broke the seal, and when he had read the con 
 tents his wife asked : 
 
 " Who is the letter from, father ? " 
 
 " Seward ; I must go over and see him to- 
 day." 
 
 " Seward ! I wish you had nothing to do with 
 that man. He cannot be trusted." 
 
Behind the Scenes. 131 
 
 " You say the same of Chase. If I listened to 
 you, I should soon be without a Cabinet." 
 
 " Better be without it than to confide in some 
 of the men that you do. Seward is worse than 
 Chase. He has no principle. 
 
 "Mother, you are mistaken; your prejudices 
 are so violent that you do not stop to reason. 
 Seward is an able man, and the country as well 
 as myself can trust him." 
 
 "Father, you are too honest for this world! 
 You should have been born a saint. You will 
 generally find it a safe rule to distrust a disap 
 pointed, ambitious politician. It makes me mad 
 to see you sit still and let that hypocrite, Seward, 
 twine you around his finger as if you were a 
 skein of thread." 
 
 "It is useless to argue the question, mother. 
 You cannot change my opinion." 
 
 Mrs. Lincoln prided herself upon her ability to 
 read character. She was shrewd and far-seeing, 
 
132 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 and had no patience with the frank, confiding 
 nature of the President. 
 
 When Andrew Johnson was urged for military 
 Governor of Tennessee, Mrs. Lincoln bitterly op 
 posed the appointment. 
 
 " He is a demagogue," she said, almost fiercely, 
 " and if you place him v in power, Mr. Lincoln, 
 mark my words, you will rue it some day." 
 
 General McClellan, when made Commander-in- 
 Chief, was the idol of the soldiers, and never was 
 a general more universally popular. " He is a 
 humbug," remarked Mrs. Lincoln "one day in my 
 presence. 
 
 "What makes you think so, mother ?" good- 
 naturedly inquired the President. 
 
 " Because he talks so much and does so little. 
 If I had the power I would very soon take off 
 his head, and put some energetic man in his 
 place." 
 
 " But I regard McClellan as a patriot and an 
 able soldier. He has been much embarrassed. 
 
Behind the Scenes. 133 
 
 The troops are raw, and the subordinate officers 
 inclined to be rebellious. There are too many 
 politicians in the army with shoulder-straps. 
 McClellan is young and popular, and they are 
 jealous of him. They will kill him off if they 
 can." 
 
 "McClellan can make plenty of excuse for 
 himself, therefore he needs no advocate in you. If 
 he would only do something, and not promise so 
 much, I might learn to have a little faith in him. 
 I tell you he is a humbug, and you will have to 
 find some man to take his place, that is, if you 
 wish to conquer the South." 
 
 Mrs. Lincoln could not tolerate General Grant. 
 " He is a butcher," she would often say, " and is 
 not fit to be at the head of an army." 
 
 " But he has been very successful in the field," 
 argued the President. 
 
 " Yes, he generally manages to claim a victory, 
 but such a victory ! He loses two men to the 
 enemy s one. He has no management, no regard 
 
134: Behind the Scenes. 
 
 for life. If the war should continue four years 
 longer, and he should remain in power, he would 
 depopulate the North. I could fight an army as 
 well myself. According to his tactics, there is 
 nothing under the heavens to do but to march a 
 new line of men up in front of the rebel breast 
 works to be shot down as fast as they take their 
 position, and keep marching until the enemy 
 grows tired of the slaughter. Grant, I repeat, is 
 an obstinate fool and a butcher." 
 
 " Well, mother, supposing that we give you 
 command of the army. No doubt you would do 
 much better than any general that has been tried." 
 There was a twinkle in the eyes, and a ring of 
 irony in the voice. 
 
 I have often heard Mrs. Lincoln say that if 
 Grant should ever be elected President of the 
 United States she would desire to leave the 
 country, and remain absent during his term of 
 office. 
 
 It was well known that Mrs. Lincoln s 
 
Behind the Scenes. 135 
 
 brothers were in the Confederate army, and for 
 this reason it was often charged that her sympa 
 thies were with the South. Those who made the 
 hasty charge were never more widely mistaken. 
 
 One morning, on my way to the White House, 
 I heard that Captain Alexander Todd, one 
 of her brothers, had been killed. I did not 
 like to inform Mrs. Lincoln of his death, judging 
 that it would be painful news to her. I had 
 been in her room but a few minutes when she 
 said, with apparent unconcern, " Lizzie, I have 
 just heard that one of my brothers has been killed 
 in the war." 
 
 "I also heard the same, Mrs. Lincoln, but 
 hesitated to speak of it, for fear the subject 
 would be a painful one to you." 
 
 " You need not hesitate. Of course, it is but 
 natural that I should feel for one so nearly 
 related to me, but not to the extent that you sup 
 pose. He made his choice long ago. lie 
 decided against my husband, and through him 
 
136 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 against me. He has been fighting against ns ; 
 and since he chos$ to be our deadly enemy, I see 
 no special reason why I should bitterly mourn 
 his death." 
 
 I felt relieved, and in subsequent conversations 
 learned that Mrs. Lincoln had no sympathy for 
 the South. " Why should I sympathize with the 
 rebels," she would say ; " are they not against 
 me? They would hang my husband to-morrow 
 if it was in their power, and perhaps gibbet me 
 with him. How then can I sympathize with a 
 people at war with me and mine ? " She always 
 objected to being thought Southern in feeling. 
 
 Mr. Lincoln was generous by nature, and 
 though his whole heart was in the war, he could 
 not but respect the valor of those opposed to 
 him. His soul was too great for the narrow, 
 selfish views of partisanship. Brave by nature 
 v himself, he honored bravery in others, even his 
 foes. Time and again I have heard him speak in 
 the highest terms of the soldierly qualities of 
 
Behind the Scenes. 137 
 
 such brave Confederate generals as Lee, Stone 
 wall Jackson, and Joseph E. Johnson. Jackson 
 was his ideal soldier. "He is a brave, honest 
 Presbyterian soldier," were his words ; " what a 
 pity that we should have to fight such a gallant 
 fellow ! If we only had such a man to lead the 
 armies of the North, the country would not be 
 appalled with so many disasters." 
 
 As this is a rambling chapter, I will here record 
 an incident showing his feeling toward Robert E. 
 Lee. The very morning of the day on which he 
 was assassinated, his son, Capt. Robert Lincoln, 
 came into the room with a portrait of General 
 Lee in his hand. The President took the pic 
 ture, laid it on a table before him, scanned the 
 face thoughtfully, and said : " It is a good face ; 
 it is the face of a noble, noble, brave man. I am 
 glad that the war is over at last." Looking up 
 at Robert, he continued : " Well, my son, you 
 have returned safely from the front. The war is 
 now closed, and we soon will live in peace with 
 
138 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 the brave men that have been fighting against 
 us. I trust that the era of good feeling has re 
 turned with the war, and that henceforth we 
 shall live in peace. Now listen to me, Robert : 
 you must lay aside your uniform, and return to 
 college. I wish you to read law for three years, 
 and at the end of that time I hope that we will 
 be able to tell whether you will make a lawyer 
 or not." His face was more cheerful than I had 
 seen it for a long while, and he seemed to be in a 
 generous, forgiving mood. 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 BEHIND THE SCENES. 
 
 OME of the freedmen and freed- 
 women had exaggerated ideas of 
 liberty. To them it was a beauti 
 ful vision, a land of sunshine, rest, 
 and glorious promise. They flocked to Washing 
 ton, and since their extravagant hopes were not 
 realized, it was but natural that many of them 
 should bitterly feel their disappointment. The 
 colored people are wedded to associations, and 
 when you destroy these you destroy half of the 
 happiness of their lives. They make a home, 
 and are so fond of it that they prefer it, squalid 
 
140 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 though it be, to the comparative ease and luxury 
 of a shifting, roaming life. Well, the emancipated 
 slaves, in coming North, left old associations 
 behind them, and the love for the past was so 
 strong that they could not find much beauty 
 in the new life so suddenly opened to them. 
 Thousands of the disappointed, huddled together 
 in camps, fretted and pined like children for the 
 "good old times." In visiting them in the in 
 terests of the Relief Society of which I was 
 president, they would crowd around me with 
 pitiful stories of distress. Often I heard them 
 declare that they would rather go back to slavery 
 in the South, and be with their old masters, than 
 to enjoy the freedom of the North. I believe 
 they were sincere in these declarations, because 
 dependence had become a part of their second 
 nature, and independence brought with it the 
 cares and vexations of poverty. 
 
 I was very much amused one day at the grave 
 complaints of a good old, simple-minded wo- 
 
Behind tJie Scenes. 
 
 man, fresh from a life of servitude. She had 
 never ventured beyond a plantation until coming 
 North. The change was too radical for her, and 
 she could not exactly understand it. She thought, 
 as many others thought, that Mr. and Mrs. Lin 
 coln were the government, and that the President 
 and his wife had nothing to do but to supply the 
 extravagant wants of every one that applied to 
 them. The wants of this old woman, liOAvever, 
 were not very extravagant. 
 
 " Why, Missus Keckley," said she to me one 
 day, "I is been here eight months, and Missus 
 Lingom an t even give me one shife. Bliss God, 
 childen, if I had ar know dat de Government, and 
 Mister and Missus Government, was going to do 
 dat ar way, I neber would ave corned here in God s 
 wurld. My old missus us t gib me two shifes 
 eber year." 
 
 I could not restrain a laugh at the grave man 
 ner in which this good old woman entered her 
 protest. Her idea of freedom was two or more 
 
142 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 old shifts every year. Northern readers may not 
 fully recognize the pith of the joke. On the 
 Southern plantation, the mistress, according to 
 established custom, every year made a present of 
 certain under-garments to her slaves, which ar 
 ticles were always anxiously looked forward to, 
 and thankfully received. The old woman had 
 been in the habit of receiving annually two shifts 
 from her mistress, and she thought the wife of the 
 President of the United States very mean for 
 overlooking this established custom of the plan 
 tation. 
 
 "While some of the emancipated blacks pined 
 for the old associations of slavery, and refused 
 to help themselves, others went to work with 
 commendable energy, and planned with remark 
 able forethought. They built themselves cabins, 
 and each family cultivated for itself a small 
 patch of ground. The colored people are fond 
 of domestic life, and with them domestication 
 means happy children, a fat pig, a dozen or 
 
Behind the Scenes. 143 
 
 more chickens, and a garden. Whoever visits 
 the Frcedmen s Village now in the vicinity of 
 Washington will discover all of these evidences 
 of prosperity and happiness. The schools are 
 objects of much interest. Good teachers, white 
 and colored, are employed, and whole brigades 
 of bright-eyed dusky children are there taught the 
 common branches of education. These children 
 are studious, and the teachers inform me that 
 their advancement is rapid. I number among 
 my personal friends twelve colored girls employ 
 ed as teachers in the schools at Washington. 
 The Colored Mission Sabbath School, established 
 through the influence of Gen. Brown at the Fif 
 teenth Street Presbyterian Church, is always an 
 object of great interest to the residents of the 
 Capital, as well as to the hundreds of strangers 
 visiting the city. 
 
 In 1864 the receptions again commenced at the 
 White House. For the first two years of Mr. 
 Lincoln s administration, the President selected a 
 
144: Behind the Scenes. 
 
 lady to join in the promenade with him, which 
 left Mrs. Lincoln free to choose an escort from 
 among the distinguished gentlemen that always 
 surrounded her on such occasions. This custom 
 at last was discontinued by Mrs. Lincoln. 
 
 "Lizabeth 1 " I was sewing in her room, and 
 she was seated in a comfortable arm-chair " Liza 
 beth, I have been thinking over a little matter. 
 As you are well aware, the President, at every re 
 ception, selects a lady to lead the promenade with 
 him. Now it occurs to me that this custom is an 
 absurd one. On such occasions our guests recog 
 nize the position of the President as first of all ; 
 consequently, he takes the lead in everything; 
 well, now, if they recognize his position they 
 should also recognize mine. I am his wife, and 
 should lead with him. And yet he offers his arm 
 to any other lady in the room, making her first 
 with him and placing me second. The custom is 
 an absurd one, and I mean to abolish it. The 
 dignity that I owe to my position, as Mrs. Presi- 
 
Beliwd tfie Scenes. 145 
 
 dent, demands that I should not hesitate any 
 longer to act." 
 
 Mrs. Lincoln kept her word. Ever after this, 
 she either led the promenade with the President, 
 or the President walked alone or with a gentle 
 man. The change was much remarked, but the 
 reason why it was made, I believe, was never 
 generally known. 
 
 In 1864 much doubt existed in regard to the 
 re-election of Mr. Lincoln, and the White House 
 was besieged by all grades of politicians. Mrs. 
 Lincoln was often blamed for having a certain 
 class of men around her. 
 
 "I have an object in view, Lizabeth," she said 
 to me in reference to this matter. " In a political 
 canvass it is policy to cultivate every element of 
 strength. These men have influence, and we re 
 quire influence to re-elect Mr. Lincoln. I will be 
 clever to them until after the election, and then, 
 if we remain at the White House, I will drop 
 
 every one of them, and let them know very 
 
 7 
 
146 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 plainly that I only made tools of them. They 
 are an unprincipled set, and I don t mind a little 
 double-dealing with them." 
 
 " Does Mr. Lincoln know what your purpose 
 is? "I asked. 
 
 " God ! no ; he would never sanction such a 
 proceeding, so I keep him in the dark, and will 
 tell him of it when all is over. He is too honest 
 to take the proper care of his own interests, so I 
 feel it to be my duty to electioneer for him." 
 
 Mr. Lincoln, as every one knows, was far from 
 handsome. He was not admired for his graceful 
 figure and finely moulded face, but for the nobil 
 ity of his soul and the greatness of his heart. 
 His wife was different. He was wholly unselfish 
 in every respect, and I believe that he loved the 
 mother of his children very tenderly. He asked 
 nothing but affection from her, but did not 
 nlways receive it. When in one of her wayward 
 impulsive moods, she was apt to say and do 
 
 things that wounded him deeply. If he had not 
 f 
 
Behind the Scenes. 147 
 
 loved her, she would have been powerless to 
 cloud his thoughtful face, or gild it with a ray of 
 sunshine as she pleased. "We are indifferent to 
 those we do not love, and certainly the President 
 was not indifferent to his wife. She often 
 wounded him in unguarded moments, but calm 
 reflection never failed to bring regret. 
 
 Mrs. Lincoln was extremely anxious that hei 
 husband should be re-elected President of the 
 United State s. In endeavoring to make a dis 
 play becoming her exalted position, she had to 
 incur many expenses. Mr. Lincoln s salary was 
 inadequate to meet them, and she was forced to 
 run in debt, hoping that good fortune would 
 favor her, and enable her to extricate herself from 
 an embarrassing situation. She bought the most 
 expensive goods on credit, and in the summer of 
 1864 enormous unpaid bills stared her in the 
 face. 
 
 "What do you think about the election, Liza- 
 beth ? " she said to me one morning. 
 
148 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 " I think that Mr. Lincoln will remain in the 
 White House four years longer," I replied, look 
 ing up from my work. 
 
 " What makes you think so ? Somehow I have 
 learned to fear that he will be defeated." 
 
 "Because he has been tried, and has proved 
 faithful to the best interests of the country. 
 The people of the North recognize in him an 
 honest man, and they are willing to confide in 
 him, at least until the war Jias been brought to a 
 close. The Southern people made his election a 
 pretext for rebellion, and now to replace him by 
 some one else, after years of sanguinary war, would 
 look too much like a surrender of the North. 
 So, Mr. Lincoln is certain to be re-elected. He 
 represents a principle, and to maintain this prin 
 ciple the loyal people of the loyal States will vote 
 for him, even if he had no merits to commend 
 him." 
 
 " Your view is a plausible one, Lizabeth, and 
 your confidence gives me new hope. If he 
 
Behind the Scenes. 14-9 
 
 should be defeated, I do not know what would 
 become of us all. To me, to him, there is more 
 at stake in this election than he dreams of." 
 
 " What can you mean, Mrs. Lincoln ? I do 
 not comprehend." 
 
 " Simply this. I have contracted large debts, 
 of whicli he knows nothing, and which he will 
 be unable to pay if he is defeated." 
 
 " What are your debts, Mrs. Lincoln ? " 
 
 " They consist chiefly of store bills. I owe 
 altogether about twenty-seven thousand dollars ; 
 the principal portion at Stewart s, in New York. 
 You understand, Lizabeth, that Mr. Lincoln has 
 but little idea of the expense of a woman s ward 
 robe. He glances at my rich dresses, and is 
 happy in the belief that the few hundred dollars 
 that I obtain from him supply all my wants. I 
 must dress in costly materials. The people scru- 
 tinize every article that I wear with critical curi 
 osity. The very fact of having grown up in the 
 West, subjects me to more searching observation. 
 
150 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 To keep up appearances, I must have money 
 more than Mr. Lincoln can spare for me. He is 
 too honest to make a penny outside of his salary ; 
 consequently I had, and still have, no alternative 
 but to run in debt." 
 
 " And Mr. Lincoln does not even suspect how 
 much you owe ? " 
 
 " God, no ! " this was a favorite expression of 
 hers " and I would not have him suspect. If 
 he knew that his wife was involved to the extent 
 that she is, the knowledge would drive him mad. 
 He is so sincere and straightforward himself, 
 that he is shocked by the duplicity of others. 
 He does not know a thing about any debts, and 
 I value his happiness, not to speak of my own, 
 too much to allow him to know anything. This 
 is what troubles me so much. If he is re-elected, 
 I can keep him in ignorance of my affairs ; but 
 if he is defeated, then the bills will be sent in, 
 and he will know all ; " and something like a 
 hysterical sob escaped her. 
 
Behind tJie Scenes. 151 
 
 Mrs. Lincoln sometimes feared that the poli 
 ticians would get hold of the particulars of her 
 debts, and use them in the Presidential campaign 
 against her husband ; and when this thought oc 
 curred to her, she was almost crazy with anxiety 
 and fear. 
 
 When in one of these excited moods, she 
 would fiercely exclaim 
 
 "The Republican politicians must pay my 
 debts. Hundreds of them are getting immensely 
 rich off the patronage of my husband, and it is 
 but fair that they should help me out of my 
 embarrassment. I will make a demand of them, 
 and when I tell them the facts they cannot re 
 fuse to advance whatever money 1 require." 
 
CHAPTEK X. 
 
 THE SECOND INAUGURATION. 
 
 ES. LINCOLN came to raj apart 
 ments one day towards the close of 
 the summer of 1864, to consult me 
 in relation to a dress. And here let 
 me remark, I never approved of ladies, attached 
 to the Presidential household, coming to my 
 rooms. I always thought that it would be more 
 consistent with their dignity to send for me, and 
 let me come to them, instead of their coming to 
 me. I may have peculiar notions about some 
 things, and this may be regarded as one of them. 
 No matter, I have recorded my opinion. I can- 
 
Behind the Scenes. 153 
 
 not forget the associations of my early life. 
 Well, Mrs. Lincoln came to my rooms, and, as 
 usual, she had much to say about the Presidential 
 election. 
 
 After some conversation, she asked : " Lizzie, 
 where do you think I will be this time next 
 summer ? " 
 
 " Why, in the White House, of course." 
 
 " I cannot believe so. I have no hope of the 
 re-election of Mr. Lincoln. The canvass is a 
 heated one, the people begin to murmur at the 
 war, and every vile charge is brought against my 
 husband." 
 
 " No matter," I replied, " Mr. Lincoln will 
 be re-elected. I am so confident of it, that I am 
 tempted to ask a favor of you." 
 
 " A favor ! Well, if we remain in the White 
 House I shall be able to do you many favors. 
 What is the special favor ? " 
 
 " Simply this, Mrs. Lincoln I should like for 
 you to make me a present of the right-hand glove 
 
154 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 that the President wears at the first public recep 
 tion after his second inaugural ." 
 
 " You shall have it in welcome. It will be so 
 filthy when he pulls it off, I shall be tempted to 
 take the tongs and put it in the fire. I cannot 
 imagine, Lizabeth, what you want with such a 
 glove." 
 
 "I shall cherish it as a precious memento of 
 the second inauguration of the man who has done 
 so much for my race. He has been a Jehovah to 
 my people has lifted them out of bondage, and 
 directed their footsteps from darkness into light. 
 I shall keep the glove, and hand it down to pos 
 terity." 
 
 " You have some strange ideas, Lizabeth. 
 Never mind, you shall have the glove ; that is, if 
 Mr. Lincoln continues President after the 4th of 
 March next." 
 
 I held Mrs. Lincoln to her promise. That 
 glove is now in my possession, bearing the marks 
 of the thousands of hands that grasped the honest 
 
Behind the Scenes. 155 
 
 hand of Mr. Lincoln on that eventful night. 
 Alas ! it has become a prouder, sadder memento 
 than I ever dreamed prior to making the re 
 quest it would be. 
 
 In due time the election came off, and all of 
 my predictions were verified. The loyal States 
 decided that Mr. Lincoln should continue at the 
 nation s helm. Autumn faded, winter dragged 
 slowly by, and still the country resounded with 
 the clash of arms. The South was suffering, yet 
 suffering was borne with heroic determination, 
 and the army continued to present a bold, defiant 
 front. With the first early breath of spring, 
 thousands of people gathered in Washington to 
 witness the second inauguration of Abraham 
 Lincoln as President of the United States. It 
 was a stirring day in the National Capital, and 
 one that will never fade from the memory of 
 those wKo witnessed the imposing ceremonies. 
 The morning was dark and gloomy ; clouds hung 
 like a pall in the sky, as if portending some 
 
156 Behitid the Scenes. 
 
 great disaster. But when the President stepped 
 forward to receive the oath of office, the clouds 
 parted, and a ray of sunshine streamed from the 
 heavens to fall upon and gild his face. It is also 
 said that a brilliant star was seen at noon-day. 
 It was the noon-day of life with Mr. Lincoln, 
 and the star, as viewed in the light of subsequent 
 events, was emblematic of a summons from on 
 high. This was Saturday, and on Monday eve 
 ning I went to the White House to dress Mrs. 
 Lincoln for the first grand levee. While arrang 
 ing Mrs. L. s hair, the President came in. It 
 was the first time I had seen him since the inau 
 guration, and I went up to him, proffering my 
 hand with words of congratulation. 
 
 He grasped my outstretched hand warmly, 
 and held it while he spoke : " Thank you. Well, 
 Madam Elizabeth " he always called me Madam 
 Elizabeth " I don t know whether I should feel 
 thankful or not. The position brings with it 
 many trials. We do not know what we are des- 
 
Behind the Scenes. 157 
 
 tined to pass through. But God will be with us 
 all. I put my trust in God." He dropped my 
 hand, and with solemn face walked across the 
 room and took his seat on the sofa. Prior to 
 this I had congratulated Mrs. Lincoln, and she had 
 answered with a sigh, "Thank you, Elizabeth ; 
 but now that we have won the position, I almost 
 wish it were otherwise. Poor Mr. Lincoln is 
 looking so broken-hearted, so completely worn 
 out, I fear he will not get through the next 
 four years." Was it a presentiment that made 
 her take a sad view of the future ? News from 
 the front was never more cheering. On every 
 side the Confederates were losing ground, and 
 the lines of blue were advancing in triumph. 
 As I would look out my window almost every 
 day, I could see the artillery going past on its 
 way to the open space of ground, to fire a salute 
 in honor of some new victory. From every 
 point came glorious news of the success of the 
 soldiers that fought for the Union. And yet, 
 
158 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 in their private chamber, away from the curious 
 eyes of the world, the President and his wife 
 wore sad, anxious faces. 
 
 I finished dressing Mrs. Lincoln, and she took 
 
 O " 
 
 the President s arm and went below. It was one 
 of the largest receptions ever held in "Washing 
 ton. Thousands crowded the halls and rooms of 
 the White House, eager to shake Mr. Lincoln by 
 his hand, and receive a gracious smile from his 
 wife. The jam was terrible, and the enthusiasm 
 great. The President s hand was well shaken, 
 and the next day, on visiting Mrs. Lincoln, I re 
 ceived the soiled glove that Mr. Lincoln had 
 worn on his right hand that night. 
 
 Many colored people were in Washington, and 
 large numbers had desired to attend the levee, 
 but orders were issued not to admit them. A 
 gentleman, a member- of Congress, on his way 
 to the White House, recognized Mr. Frederick 
 Douglass, the eloquent colored orator, on the out 
 skirts of the crowd. 
 
Behind the Scenes. 159 
 
 " How do you do, Mr. Douglass ? A fearful 
 jam to-night. You are going in, of course ? " 
 
 " No that is, no to your last question." 
 
 "Not going in to shake the President by the 
 hand ! Why, pray ? " 
 
 " The best reason in the world. Strict 
 orders have been issued not to admit people of 
 color." 
 
 " It is a shame, Mr. Douglass, that you should 
 thus be placed under ban. Never mind ; wait 
 here, and I will see what can be done." 
 
 The gentleman entered the "White House, and 
 working his way to the President, asked permis 
 sion to introduce Mr. Douglass to him. 
 
 " Certainly," said Mr. Lincoln. " Bring Mr. 
 Douglass in, by all means. I shall be glad to 
 meet him." 
 
 The gentleman returned, and soon Mr. 
 Douglass stood face to face with the President. 
 Mr. Lincoln pressed his hand warmly, saying: 
 " Mr. Douglass, I am glad to meet you. I have 
 
160 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 long admired your course, and I value your 
 opinions highly." 
 
 Mr. Douglass was very proud of the manner in 
 which Mr. Lincoln received him. On leaving 
 
 O 
 
 the White House he came to a friend s house 
 where a reception was being held, and he related 
 the incident with great pleasure to myself and 
 others. 
 
 On the Monday following the reception at the 
 White House, everybody was busy preparing for 
 the grand inaugural ball to come off that night. 
 I was in Mrs. Lincoln s room the greater 
 portion of the day. While dressing her that 
 night, the President came in, and I remarked to 
 him how much Mr. Douglass had been pleased on 
 the night he was presented to Mr. Lincoln. Mrs. 
 L. at once turned to her husband with the 
 inquiry, " Father, why was not Mr. Douglass 
 introduced to me ? " 
 
 " I do not know. I thought he was presented." 
 
 " But he was not." 
 
Behind the Scenes. 161 
 
 " It must have been an oversight then, mother ; 
 I am sorry you did not meet him." 
 
 I finished dressing her for the ball, and ac 
 companied her to the door. She was dressed 
 magnificently, and entered the ball-room leaning 
 on the arm of Senato r Sumner, a gentleman that 
 she very much admired. Mr. Lincoln walked 
 into the ball-room accompanied by two gentle 
 men. This ball closed the season. It was the 
 last time that the President and his wife ever 
 appeared in public. 
 
 Some days after, Mrs. Lincoln, with a party of 
 friends, went to City Point on a visit. 
 
 Mrs. Lincoln had returned to Washington prior 
 to the 2d of April. On Monday, April 3d, Mrs. 
 Secretary Harlan came into my room with ma 
 terial for a dress. While conversing with her, I 
 saw artillery pass the window ; and as it was on 
 its way to fire a salute, I inferred that good news 
 had been received at the War Department. My 
 reception-room was on one side of the street, and 
 
1C>2 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 my work-room on the other side v . Inquiring the 
 cause of the demonstration, we were told that 
 Richmond had fallen. Mrs. Harlan took one of 
 my hands in each of her own, and we rejoiced 
 together. I ran across to my work-room, and 
 on entering it, discovered that the girls in my 
 employ also had heard the good news. They 
 were particularly elated, as it was reported that 
 the rebel capital had surrendered to colored 
 troops. I had promised my employees a holi 
 day when Richmond should fall ; and now that 
 Richmond had fallen, they reminded me of my 
 promise. 
 
 I recrossed to my reception-room, and Mrs. 
 Harlan told me that the good news was enough 
 for her she could afford to wait for her dress, 
 and to give the girls a holiday and a treat, by all 
 means. She returned to her house, and I joined 
 my girls in the joy of the long-promised holiday. 
 We wandered about the streets of the city with 
 happy faces, and hearts overflowing with joy. 
 
Behind tJie Scenes. 163 
 
 The clerks in the various departments also 
 enjoyed a holiday, and they improved it by 
 getting gloriously fuddled. Towards evening I 
 saw S., and many other usually clear-headed 
 men, in the street, in a confused, uncertain 
 state of mind. 
 
 Mrs. Lincoln had invited me to accompany 
 her to City Point. I went to the White House, 
 and told her that if she intended to return, I 
 would regard it as a privilege to go with her, as 
 City Point was near Petersburg, my old home. 
 Mrs. L. said she designed returning, and would 
 be delighted to take me with her; so it was 
 arranged that I should accompany her. 
 
 A few days after we were on board the 
 steamer, en route for City Point. Mrs. Lincoln 
 was joined by Mrs. Secretary Harlan and daugh 
 ter, Senator Sumner, and several other gentle 
 men. 
 
 Prior to this, Mr. Lincoln had started for City 
 Point, and before we reached our destination he 
 
1G-1 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 had visited Richmond, Petersburg, and other 
 points. We arrived on Friday, and Mrs. Lincoln 
 was much disappointed when she learned that 
 the President had visited the late Confederate 
 capital, as she had greatly desired to be with him 
 when he entered the conquered stronghold. It 
 was immediately arranged that the entire party 
 on board the River Queen should visit Rich 
 mond, and other points, with the President. 
 The next morning, after the arrangement was 
 perfected, we were steaming up James River 
 the river that so long had been impassable, even 
 to our gunboats. The air w r as balmy, and the 
 banks of the river were beautiful, and fragrant 
 with the first sweet blossoms of spring. For 
 hours I stood on deck, breathing the pure air, 
 and viewing the landscape on either side of the 
 majestically flowing river. Here stretched fair 
 fields, emblematic of peace and here deserted 
 camps and frowning forts, speaking of the stern 
 vicissitudes of war. Alas ! how many changes 
 
Behind the Scenes. 165 
 
 had taken place since my eye had wandered over 
 the classic fields of dear old Virginia ! A birth 
 place is always dear, no matter under what cir 
 cumstances you were born, since it revives in 
 memory the golden hours of childhood, free from 
 philosophy, and the warm kiss of a mother. I 
 wondered if I should catch a glimpse of a fami 
 liar face ; I wondered what had become of those 
 I once knew; had they fallen in battle, been 
 scattered by the relentless tide of war, or were 
 they still living as they lived when last I saw 
 them ? I wondered, now that Richmond had 
 fallen, and Virginia been restored to the cluster 
 ing stars of the Union, if the people would come 
 together in the bonds of peace ; and as I gazed 
 and wondered, the River Queen rapidly carried 
 us to our destination. 
 
 The Presidential party were all curiosity on 
 entering Richmond. They drove about the 
 streets of the city, and examined every object of 
 interest. The Capitol presented a desolate ap- 
 
166 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 pearance desks broken, and papers scattered pro 
 miscuously in the hurried flight of the Confeder 
 ate Congress. / I picked up a number of papers, 
 and, by curious coincidence, the resolution pro 
 hibiting all free colored people from entering the 
 State of Virginia. In the Senate chamber I sat 
 in the chair that Jefferson Davis sometimes occu 
 pied ; also in the chair of the Vice-President, 
 Alexander II. Stephens. "We paid a visit to the 
 mansion occupied by Mr. Davis and family during 
 the war, and the ladies who were in charge of it 
 scowled darkly upon our party as we passed 
 through and inspected the different rooms. After 
 a delightful visit we returned to City Point. 
 
 That night, in the cabin of the River Queen, 
 smiling faces gathered around the dinner-table. 
 One of the guests was a young officer attached 
 to the Sanitary Commission. He was seated near 
 Mrs. Lincoln, arid, by way of pleasantry, re 
 marked : " Mrs. Lincoln, you should have seen 
 the President the other day, on his triumphal 
 
jBehind the Scenes. 167 
 
 entry into Richmond. He was the cynosure of all 
 eyes. The ladies kissed their hands to him, and 
 greeted him with the waving of handkerchiefs. 
 He is quite a hero when surrounded by pretty 
 young ladies." 
 
 The young officer suddenly paused with a look 
 of embarrassment. Mrs. Lincoln turned to him 
 with flashing eyes, with the remark that his fami 
 liarity was offensive to her. Quite a scene fol 
 lowed, and I do not think that the Captain who 
 incurred Mrs. Lincoln s displeasure will ever 
 forget that memorable evening in the cabin of 
 the River Queen, at City Point. 
 
 Saturday morning the whole party decided to 
 visit Petersburg, and I was only too eager to ac 
 company them. 
 
 When we arrived at the city, numbers crowded 
 around the train, and a little ragged negro boy 
 ventured timidly into the car occupied by Mr. 
 Lincoln and immediate friends, and in replying 
 to numerous questions, used the word " tote." 
 
168 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 " Tote," remarked Mr. Lincoln ; " what do you 
 mean by tote ? " 
 
 " Why, massa, to tote um on your back." 
 
 " Yery definite, my son ; I presume when you 
 tote a thing, you carry it. By the way, Sum- 
 ner," turning to the Senator, " what is the origin 
 of tote ? " 
 
 " Its origin is said to be African. The Latin 
 word totum, from totus, means all an entire 
 body the whole." 
 
 " But my young friend here did not mean an 
 entire body, or anything of the kind, when he 
 said he would tote my things for me," inter 
 rupted the President. 
 
 " Yery true," continued the Senator. u He 
 used the word tote in the African sense, to carry, 
 to bear. Tote in this sense is denned in our 
 standard dictionaries as a colloquial word of the 
 Southern States, used especially by the negroes." 
 
 " Then you regard the w r ord as a good one ? " 
 
 " Not elegant, certainly. For myself, I should 
 
Behind the Scenes. 169 
 
 prefer a better word ; but since it has been estab 
 lished by usage, I cannot refuse to recognize it." 
 
 Thus the conversation proceeded in pleasant 
 style. 
 
 Getting out of the car, the President and those 
 with him went to visit the forts and other scenes, 
 while I wandered off by myself in search of those 
 whom I had known in other days. War, grim- 
 vis aged war, I soon discovered had brought 
 many changes to the city so well known to me 
 in the days of my youth. I found a number of 
 old friends, but the greater portion of the popu 
 lation were strange to me. The scenes suggested 
 painful memories, and I was not sorry to turn 
 my back again upon the city. A large, pecu 
 liarly shaped oak tree, I well remember, attract 
 ed the particular attention of the President ; it 
 grew upon the outskirts of Petersburg, and as he 
 had discovered it on his first visit, a few days 
 
 previous to the second, he insisted that the party 
 
 - 
 
 should go with him to take a look at the isolated 
 
 8 
 
170 Behind th-e Scenes. 
 
 and magnificent specimen of the stately grandeur 
 of the forest. Every member of the party was 
 only too willing to accede to the President s re 
 quest, and the visit to the oak was made, and 
 much enjoyed. 
 
 On our return to City Point from Petersburg 
 the train moved slowly, and the President, ob 
 serving a terrapin basking in the warm sunshine 
 on the wayside, had the conductor stop the 
 train, and one of the brakemen bring the terrapin 
 in to him. The movements of the ungainly little 
 animal seemed to delight him, and he amused 
 himself with it until we reached James River, 
 where our steamer lay. Tad stood near, and 
 joined in the happy laugh with his father. 
 
 For a week the River Queen remained in 
 James River, anchored the greater portion of the 
 time at City Point, and a pleasant and memora 
 ble week was it to all on board. During the 
 whole of this time a yacht lay in the stream 
 about a quarter of a mile distant, and its peculiar 
 
Behind the Scenes. 171 
 
 movements attracted the attention of all on 
 board. General Grant and Mrs. Grant were 
 on our steamer several times, and many distin 
 guished officers of the army also were enter 
 tained by the President and his party. 
 
 Mr. Lincoln, when not off on an excursion of 
 any kind, lounged about the boat, talking fami 
 liarly with every one that approached him. 
 
 The day before we started on our journey 
 back to Washington, Mr. Lincoln was engaged 
 in reviewing the troops in camp. He returned 
 to the boat in the evening, with a tired, weary 
 look. 
 
 " Mother," he said to his wife, " I have shaken 
 so many hands to-day that my arms ache to 
 night. I almost wish that I could go to bed 
 now." 
 
 As the twilight shadows deepened the lamps 
 were lighted, and the boat WAS brilliantly il 
 luminated ; as it lay in the river, decked with 
 many-colored lights, it looked like an enchanted 
 
172 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 floating palace. A military band was on board, 
 and as the hours lengthened into night it dis 
 coursed sweet music. Many officers came on 
 board to say good-by, and the scene was a bril 
 liant one indeed. About 10 o clock Mr. Lincoln 
 was called upon to make a speech. Rising to 
 his feet, he said : 
 
 " You must excuse me, ladies and gentlemen. 
 I am too tired to speak to-night. On next 
 Tuesday night I make a speech in Washington, 
 at which time you will learn all I have to say. 
 And now, by way of parting from the brave 
 soldiers of our gallant army, I call upon the band 
 to play Dixie. It has always been a favorite of 
 mine, and since we have captured it, we have a 
 perfect right to enjoy it." On taking his seat 
 the band at once struck up with Dixie, that 
 sweet, inspiring air ; and when the music died 
 away, there were clapping of hands and other 
 manifestations of applause. 
 
 At 11 o clock the last good-by was spoken, the 
 
Behind the Scenes. 173 
 
 lights were taken down, the River Queen round 
 ed out into the water and we were on our 
 way back to Washington. We arrived at the 
 Capital at 6 o clock on Sunday evening, where 
 the party separated, each going to his and her own 
 home. This was one of the most delightful trips 
 of my life, and I always revert to it with feelings 
 of genuine pleasure. 
 
CHAPTEE XL 
 
 THE ASSASSINATION OF PRESIDENT LINCOLN. 
 
 mm? 
 
 HAD never heard Mr. Lincoln make 
 a public speech, and, knowing the 
 man so well, was very anxious to 
 hear him. On the morning of the 
 Tuesday after our return from City Point, Mrs. 
 Lincoln came to my apartments, and before she 
 drove away I asked permission to come to the 
 White House that night and hear Mr. Lincoln 
 speak. 
 
 " Certainly, Lizabeth ; if you take any interest 
 in political speeches, come and listen in wel 
 come." 
 
 "Thank you, Mrs. Lincoln. May I trespass 
 
Behind the Scenes. 175 
 
 further on your kindness by asking permission to 
 bring a friend with me ? " 
 
 "Yes, bring your friend also. By the way, 
 come in time to dress me before the speaking 
 commences." 
 
 " I will be in time. You may rely upon that. 
 Good morning," I added, as she swept from my 
 room, and, passing out into the street, entered her 
 carriage and drove away. 
 
 About 7 o clock that evening I entered the 
 White House. As I went up-stairs I glanced 
 into Mr. Lincoln s room through the half-open 
 door, and seated by a desk was the President, 
 looking over his notes and muttering to himself. 
 His face was thoughtful, his manner abstracted, 
 and I knew, as I paused a moment to watch him, 
 that he was rehearsing the part that he was to 
 play in the great drama soon to commence. 
 
 Proceeding to Mrs. Lincoln s apartment, I 
 worked with busy fingers, and in a short time 
 her toilette was completed. 
 
176 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 Great crowds began to gather in front of the 
 White House, and loud calls were made for 
 the President. The band stopped playing, and 
 as he advanced to the centre window over the 
 door to make his address, I looked out, and 
 never saw such a mass of heads before. It was 
 like a black, gently swelling sea. The swaying 
 motion of the crowd, in the dim uncertain light, 
 was like the rising and falling of billows like 
 the ebb and flow of the tide upon the stranded 
 shore of the ocean. Close to the house the faces 
 were plainly discernible, but they faded into 
 mere ghostly outlines on the outskirts of the 
 assembly ; and what added to the weird, spectral 
 beauty of the scene, was the confused hum of 
 voices that rose above the sea of forms, sounding 
 like the subdued, sullen roar of an ocean storm, 
 or the wind soughing through the dark lonely 
 forest. It was a grand and imposing scene, and 
 when the President, with pale face and his soul 
 flashing through his eyes, advanced to speak, he 
 
Behind the Scenes. ITT 
 
 looked more like a demi-god than a man 
 crowned with the fleeting days of mortality. 
 
 The moment the President appeared at the 
 window he was greeted with a storm of applause, 
 and voices re-echoed the cry, " A light ! a light ! " 
 
 A lamp was brought, and little Tad at once 
 rushed to his father s side, exclaiming : 
 
 " Let me hold the light, Papa ! let me hold the 
 light ! " 
 
 Mrs. Lincoln directed that the wish of her son 
 be gratified, and the lamp was transferred to his 
 hands. The father and son standing there in the 
 presence of thousands of free citizens, the one lost 
 in a chain of eloquent ideas, the other looking up 
 into the speaking face with a proud, manly look, 
 formed a beautiful and striking tableau. 
 
 There were a number of distinguished gentle 
 men, as well as ladies, in the room, nearly all of 
 whom remarked the picture. 
 
 I stood a short distance from Mr. Lincoln, and 
 as the light from the lamp fell full upon him, 
 
178 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 making him stand out boldly in the darkness, a 
 sudden thought struck me, and I whispered to 
 the friend at my side : 
 
 " What an easy matter would it be to kill the 
 President, as he stands there ! lie could be shot 
 down from the crowd, and no one be able to tell 
 who fired the shot." 
 
 I do not know what put such an idea into my 
 head, unless it was the sudden remembrance of 
 the many warnings that Mr. Lincoln had received. 
 
 The next day, I made mention to Mrs. Lincoln 
 of the idea that had impressed me so strangely 
 the night before, and she replied with a sigh : 
 
 " Yes, yes, Mr. Lincoln s life is always exposed. 
 Ah, no one know r s what it is to live in constant 
 dread of some fearful tragedy. The President 
 has been warned so often, that I tremble for him 
 on every public occasion. I have a presentiment 
 that he will meet with a sudden and violent end. 
 I pray God to protect my beloved husband from 
 the hands of the assassin." 
 
Behind the Scenes. 179 
 
 Mr. Lincoln was fond of pets. He had two 
 goats that knew the sound of his voice, and when 
 he called them they would come bounding to his 
 side. In the warm bright days, he and Tad would 
 sometimes play in the yard with these goats, 
 for an hour at a time. One Saturday afternoon 
 I went to the White House to dress Mrs. Lin 
 coln. I had nearly completed my task when the 
 President came in. It was a bright day, and 
 walking to the window, he looked down into the 
 yard, smiled, and, turning to me, asked : 
 
 " Madam Elizabeth, you are fond of pets, are 
 you not " 
 
 " O yes. sir," I answered. 
 
 */ 
 
 " Well, come here and look at my two goats. 
 I believe they are the kindest and best goats in 
 the world. See how they sniff the clear air, and 
 skip and play in the sunshine. Whew ! what a 
 jump," he exclaimed as one of the goats made a 
 lofty spring. " Madam Elizabeth, did you ever 
 before see such an active goat ? " Musing a 
 
180 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 moment, he continued : " He feeds on my bounty, 
 and jumps with joy. Do you think we could 
 call him a bounty-jumper? But I flatter the 
 bounty-jumper. My goat is far above him. I 
 would rather wear his horns and hairy coat 
 through life, than demean myself to the level of 
 the man who plunders the national treasury in 
 the name of patriotism. The man who enlists 
 into the service for a consideration, and deserts the 
 moment he receives his money but to repeat the 
 play, is bad enough ; but the men who manipulate 
 the grand machine and who simply make the 
 bounty-jumper their agent in an outrageous fraud 
 are far worse. They are beneath the worms 
 that crawl in the dark hidden places of earth." 
 
 His lips curled with haughty scorn, and a 
 cloud was gathering on his brow. Only a moment 
 the shadow rested on his face. Just then both 
 goats looked up at the window and shook their 
 heads as if they w r ould say " How d ye do, old 
 friend ?" 
 
Behind the Scenes. 181 
 
 " See, Madam Elizabeth," exclaimed the Presi 
 dent in a tone of enthusiasm, "my pets recognize 
 me. How earnestly they look ! There they go again ; 
 what jolly fun !" and he laughed outright as the 
 goats bounded swiftly to the other side of the yard. 
 Just then Mrs. Lincoln called out, " Come, Liza- 
 beth ; if I get ready to go down this evening I 
 must finish dressing myself, or you must stop 
 staring at those silly goats." 
 
 Mrs. Lincoln was not fond of pets, and she 
 could not understand how Mr. Lincoln could 
 take so much delight in his goats. After Willie s 
 death, she could not bear the sight of anything 
 he loved, not even a flower. Costly bouquets 
 were presented to her, but she turned from them 
 with a shudder, and either placed them in a 
 room where she could not see them, or threw 
 them out of the window. She gave all of 
 Willie s toys everything connected with him 
 away, as she said she could not look upon them 
 without thinking of her poor dead boy, and to 
 
182 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 think of him, in his white shroud and cold grave, 
 was maddening. I never in my life saw a more 
 peculiarly constituted woman. Search the world 
 over, and you will not find her counterpart. 
 After Mr. Lincoln s death, the goats that he 
 loved so well were given away I believe to 
 Mrs. Lee, nee Miss Blair, one of the few ladies 
 with whom Mrs. Lincoln was on intimate terms 
 in Washington. 
 
 During my residence in the Capital I made my 
 home w r ith Mr. and Mrs. Walker Lewis, people 
 of my own race, and friends in the truest sense 
 of the word. 
 
 The days passed without any incident of par 
 ticular note disturbing the current of life. On 
 Friday morning, April 14th alas! what Ameri 
 can does not remember the day I saw Mrs. 
 Lincoln but for a moment. She told me that 
 she was to attend the theatre that night with the 
 President, but I w T as not summoned to assist her 
 in making her toilette. Sherman had swept from 
 
Behind the Scenes. 1S3 
 
 the northern border of Georgia through the heart 
 of the Confederacy down to the sea, striking the 
 death-blow to the rebellion. Grant had pursued 
 General Lee beyond Richmond, and the army of 
 Virginia, that had made such stubborn resistance, 
 was crumbling to pieces. Fort Sumter had 
 fallen; the stronghold first wrenched from the 
 Union, and which had braved the fury of Federal 
 guns for so many years, was restored to the 
 Union ; the end of the war was near at hand, 
 and the great pulse of the loyal North thrilled 
 with joy. The dark war-cloud was fading, and 
 a white-robed angel seemed to hover in the sky, 
 whispering " Peace peace on earth, good-will 
 toward men ! " Sons, brothers, fathers, friends, 
 sweethearts were coming home. Soon the white 
 tents would be folded, the volunteer army be dis 
 banded, and tranquillity again reign. Happy, 
 happy day ! happy at least to those w r ho fought 
 under the banner of the Union. There was 
 great rejoicing throughout the North. From the 
 
184 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 Atlantic to the Pacific, flags were gayly thrown to 
 the breeze, and at night every city blazed with 
 its tens of thousand lights. But scarcely had 
 the fireworks ceased to play, and the lights been 
 taken down from the windows, when the light 
 ning flashed the most appalling news over the 
 magnetic wires. " The President has been mur 
 dered ! " spoke the swift- winged messenger, and 
 the loud huzza died upon the lips. A nation sud 
 denly paused in the midst of festivity, and stood 
 paralyzed with horror transfixed with awe. 
 
 Oh, memorable day ! Oh, memorable night ! 
 Never before was joy so violently contrasted with 
 sorrow. 
 
 At 11 o clock at night I was awakened by 
 an old friend and neighbor, Miss M. Brown, with 
 the startling intelligence that the entire Cabinet 
 had been assassinated, and Mr. Lincoln shot, but 
 not mortally wounded. When I heard the words 
 I felt as if the blood had been frozen in my veins, 
 and that my lungs must collapse for the want of 
 
Behind the Scenes. 185 
 
 air. Mr. Lincoln shot ! the Cabinet assassinated ! 
 What could it mean? The streets were alive 
 with wondering, awe-stricken people. Rumors 
 flew thick and fast, and the wildest reports came 
 with every new arrival. The words were repeat 
 ed with blanched cheeks and quivering lips. I 
 waked Mr. and Mrs. Lewis, and told them that 
 the President was shot, and that I must go to the 
 White House. I could not remain in a state of 
 "uncertainty. I felt that the house would not hold 
 me. They tried to quiet me, but gentle words 
 could not cairn the wild tempest. They quickly 
 dressed themselves, and we sallied out into the 
 street to drift with the excited throng. We 
 walked rapidly towards the White House, and on 
 our way passed the residence of Secretary Seward, 
 which was surrounded by armed soldiers, keeping 
 back all intruders with the point of the bayonet. 
 We hurried on, and as we approached the White 
 House, saw that it too was surrounded with soi- 
 diers. Every entrance was strongly guarded, and 
 
186 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 no one was permitted to pass. The guard at the 
 gate told us that Mr. Lincoln had not been 
 brought home, but refused to give anj other 
 information. More excited than ever, we wan 
 dered down the street. Grief and anxiety were 
 making me w r eak, and as we joined the outskirts 
 of a large crowd, I began to feel as meek and 
 humble as a penitent child. A gray-haired old 
 man was passing. I caught a glimpse of his 
 face, and it seemed so full of kindness and sorrow 
 that I gently touched his arm, and imploringly 
 asked : 
 
 " Will you please, sir, to tell me whether Mr. 
 Lincoln is dead or not ? " 
 
 "Not dead," he replied, "but dying. God 
 help us ! " and with a heavy step he passed on. 
 
 "Not dead, but dying! then indeed God 
 help us ! " 
 
 We learned that the President was mortally 
 wounded that he had been shot down in his box 
 at the theatre, and that he was not expected to 
 
Behind the Scenes. 187 
 
 live till morning; when we returned home with 
 heavy hearts. I could not sleep. I wanted to 
 go to Mrs. Lincoln, as I pictured her wild with 
 grief; but then I did not know where to find her, 
 and I must wait till morning. Never did the 
 hours drag so slowly. Every moment seemed an 
 age, and I could do nothing but walk about and 
 hold my arms in mental agony. 
 
 Morning came at last, and a sad morning was 
 it. The Hags that floated so gayly yesterday now 
 were draped in black, and hung in silent folds at 
 half-mast. The President was dead, and a nation 
 was mourning for him. Every house was draped 
 in black, and every face wore a solemn look. 
 People spoke in subdued tones, and glided whisper 
 ingly, wonderingly, silently about the streets. 
 
 About eleven o clock on Saturday morning a 
 carriage drove up to the door, and a messenger 
 asked for " Elizabeth Keckley." 
 
 u Who wants her ? " I asked. 
 
 " I come from Mrs. Lincoln. If you are Mrs. 
 
188 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 Keckley, come with me immediately to the 
 White House." 
 
 I hastily put on my shawl and bonnet, and was 
 driven at a rapid rate to the White House. 
 Everything about the building was sad and sol 
 emn. I was quickly shown to Mrs. Lincoln s 
 room, and on entering, saw Mrs. L. tossing 
 uneasily about upon a bed. The room was dark 
 ened, and the only person in it besides the .widow 
 of the President was Mrs. Secretary Welles, who 
 had spent the night with her. Bowing to Mrs. 
 Welles, I went to the bedside. 
 
 " Why did you not come to me last night, 
 Elizabeth I sent for you ? " Mrs. Lincoln asked 
 in a low whisper. 
 
 " I did try to come to you, but I could not 
 find you," I answered, as I laid my hand upon 
 her hot brow. 
 
 I afterwards learned, that when she had par 
 tially recovered from the first shock of the terri 
 ble tragedy in the theatre, Mrs. Welles asked : 
 
Behind the Scenes. 189 
 
 " Is there no one, Mrs. Lincoln, that you desire 
 to have wiHh you in this terrible affliction ? " 
 
 " Yes, send for Elizabeth Keckley. I want 
 her just as soon as she can be brought here." 
 
 Three messengers, it appears, were successively 
 despatched for me, but all of them mistook the 
 number and failed to find me. 
 
 Shortly after entering the room on Saturday 
 morning, Mrs. Welles excused herself, as she said 
 she must go to her own family, and I was left 
 alone with Mrs. Lincoln. 
 
 She was nearly exhausted with grief, and when 
 she became a little quiet; I asked and received 
 permission to go into the Guests Room, where the 
 body of the President lay in state. When I 
 crossed the threshold of the room, I could not 
 help recalling the day on which I had seen little 
 Willie lying in his coffin where the body of his 
 father now lay. I remembered how the Presi 
 dent had wept over the pale beautiful face of his 
 gifted boy, and now the President himself was 
 
190 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 dead. The last time I saw him he spoke kindly 
 to me, but alas ! the lips would never move again. 
 The light had faded from his eyes, and when the 
 light went out the soul went with it. What a 
 noble soul was his noble in all the noble at 
 tributes of God ! Never did I enter the solemn 
 chamber of death with such palpitating heart 
 and trembling footsteps as I entered it that day. 
 No common mortal had died. The Moses of my 
 people had fallen in the hour of his triumph. 
 Fame had woven her choicest chaplet for his 
 brow. Though the brow w T as cold and pale in 
 death, the chaplet should not fade, for God had 
 studded it with the glory of the eternal stars. 
 
 When I entered the room, the members of the 
 Cabinet and many distinguished officers of the 
 army were grouped around the body of their 
 fallen chief. They made room for me, and, ap 
 proaching the body, I lifted the white cloth from 
 the white face of the man that I had worshipped 
 as an idol looked upon as a demi-god. Not- 
 
Behind the Scenes. 191 
 
 withstanding the violence of the death of the 
 President, there was something beautiful as well 
 as grandly solemn in the expression of the placid 
 face. There lurked the sweetness and gentleness 
 of childhood, and the stately grandeur of god 
 like intellect. I gazed long at the face, and 
 turned away with tears in my eyes and a choking 
 sensation in my throat. Ah ! never was man 
 so widely mourned before. The whole world 
 bowed their heads in grief when Abraham Lin 
 coln died. 
 
 Returning to Mrs. Lincoln s room, I found her 
 in a new paroxysm of grief. Robert was bend 
 ing over his mother with tender affection, and 
 little Tad was crouched at the foot of the bed 
 with a world of agony in his young face. I 
 shall never forget the scene the Avails of a 
 broken heart, the unearthly shrieks, the terrible 
 convulsions, the wild, tempestuous outbursts of 
 grief from the soul. I bathed Mrs. Lincoln s 
 head with cold water, and soothed the terrible 
 
192 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 tornado as best I could. Tad s grief at his 
 father s death was as great as the grief of his 
 mother, but her terrible outbursts awed the boy 
 into silence. Sometimes he would throw his 
 arms around her neck, and exclaim, between his 
 broken sobs, " Don t cry so, Mamma ! don t cry, 
 or you will make me cry, too ! You will break 
 my heart." 
 
 Mrs. Lincoln could not bear to hear Tad cry, 
 and when he would plead to her not to break his 
 heart, she would calm herself with a great effort, 
 and clasp her child in her arms. 
 
 Every room in the White House was dark 
 ened, and every one spoke in subdued tones, 
 and moved about with muffled tread. The 
 very atmosphere breathed of the great sorrow 
 which weighed heavily upon each heart. Mrs. 
 Lincoln never left her room, and while the body 
 of her husband was being borne in solemn state 
 from the Atlantic to the broad prairies of the 
 West, she was weeping with her fatherless chil- 
 
tJie Scenes. 193 
 
 dren in her private chamber. She denied ad 
 mittance to almost every one, and I was her only 
 companion, except her children, in the days of 
 her great sorrow. 
 
 There were many surmises as to who was im 
 plicated with J. Wilkes Booth in the assassina 
 tion of the President. A new messenger had 
 accompanied Mr. and Mrs. Lincoln to the theatre 
 on that terrible Friday night. It was the duty 
 of this messenger to stand at the door of the box 
 during the performance, and thus guard the in 
 mates from all intrusion. It appears that the mes 
 senger was carried away by the play, and so neg 
 lected his duty that Booth gained easy admission 
 to the box. Mrs. Lincoln firmly believed that this 
 messenger was implicated in the assassination plot. 
 
 One night I was lying on a lounge near the 
 bed occupied by Mrs. Lincoln. One of the ser 
 vants entering the room, Mrs. L. asked : 
 
 " Who is on watch to-night ? " 
 
 " The new messenger," was the reply. 
 
194 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 " What ! the man who attended us to the 
 theatre on the night my dear, good husband was 
 murdered ! He, I believe, is one of the murderers. 
 Tell him to come in to me." 
 
 The messenger had overheard Mrs. Lincoln s 
 words through the half-open door, and when he 
 came in he was trembling violently. 
 
 She turned to him fiercely : "So you are on 
 guard to-night on guard in the White House 
 after helping to murder the President ! " 
 
 " Pardon me, but I did not- help to murder 
 the President. I could never stoop to murder 
 much less to the murder of so good and great a 
 man as the President." 
 
 " But it appears that you did stoop to murder." 
 
 " No, no ! don t say that," he broke in. " God 
 knows that I am innocent." 
 
 " I don t believe you. Why were you not at 
 the door to keep the assassin out when he rushed 
 into the box ? " 
 
 " I did wrong, I admit, and I have bitterly re- 
 
Behind tJie Scenes. 195 
 
 pented it, but I did not help to kill the President. 
 I did not believe that any one would try to kill 
 so good a man in such a public place, and the 
 belief made me careless. I was attracted by the 
 play, and did not see the assassin enter the box." 
 
 " But you should have seen him. You had no 
 business to be careless. I shall always believe 
 that you are guilty. Hush ! I shan t hear 
 another word," she exclaimed, as the messenger 
 essayed to reply. " Go now and keep your 
 watch," she added, with an imperious wave of 
 her hand. With mechanical step and white face 
 the messenger left the room, and Mrs. Lincoln 
 fell back on her pillow, covered her face with 
 her hands, and commenced sobbing. 
 
 Robert was very tender to his mother in the 
 days of her sorrow. 
 
 He suffered deeply, as his haggard face indi 
 cated, but he was ever manly and collected when 
 in the presence of his mother. Mrs. Lincoln was 
 extremely nervous, and she refused to have any- 
 
190 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 body about her but myself. Many ladies called, 
 but she received none of them. Had she been 
 less secluded in her grief, perhaps she would have 
 had many warmer friends to-day than she has. 
 13utfar be it from me to harshly judge the sorrow 
 of any one. Could the ladies who called to con 
 dole with Mrs. Lincoln, after the death of her 
 husband, and who were denied admittance to her 
 chamber, have seen how completely prostrated 
 she was with grief, they would have learned to 
 speak more kindly of her. Often at night, when 
 Tad would hear her sobbing, he would get up, 
 and come to her bed in his white sleeping- 
 clothes : " Don t cry, Mamma; I cannot sleep if 
 you cry ! Papa was good, and he has gone to 
 heaven. He is happy there. He is with God 
 and brother "Willie. Don t cry, Mamma, or I will 
 cry too." 
 
 The closing appeal always proved the most ef 
 fectual, as Mrs. Lincoln could not bear to hear 
 her child cry. 
 
Behind tlie Scenes. 197 
 
 Tad had been petted by his father, but petting 
 could not spoil such a manly nature as his. He 
 seemed to realize that he was the son of a Pre 
 sident to realize it in its loftiest and noblest 
 sense. One morning, while being dressed, he 
 looked up at his nurse, and said : " Pa is dead. 
 I can hardly believe that I shall never see him 
 again. I must learn to take care of myself 
 now." He looked thoughtful a moment, thea 
 added, "Yes, Pa is dead, and I am only Tad 
 Lincoln now, little Tad, like other little boys. I 
 am not a President s son now. I won t have 
 many presents any more. Well, I will try and 
 be a good boy, and will hope to go some day to 
 
 Pa and brother Willie, in heaven." He was a 
 
 v 
 brave, manly child, and knew that influence had 
 
 passed out of their hands with the death of his 
 father, and that his position in life was altered. 
 He seemed to feel that people pettdd him, and 
 gave him presents, because they wanted to please 
 the President of the United States. From that 
 
198 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 period forward he became more independent, and 
 in a short time learned to dispense with the ser 
 vices of a nurse. While in Chicago, I saw him 
 get out his clothes one Sunday morning and dress 
 himself, and the change was such a great one to me 
 for while in the White House, servants obeyed 
 his every nod and bid that I could scarcely re 
 frain from shedding tears. Had his father lived, 
 I knew it would have been different with his fa 
 vorite boy. Tad roomed with Robert, and he 
 always took pride in pleasing his brother. 
 
 After the Committee had started West with 
 the body of the President, there was quite a 
 breeze of excitement for a few days as to where 
 the remains should be interred. Secretary Stan- 
 ton and others held frequent conferences with 
 Robert, Mr. Todd, Mrs. Lincoln s cousin, and 
 Dr. Henry, an old schoolmate and friend of Mr. 
 Lincoln. The city authorities of Springfield had 
 purchased a beautiful plat of ground in a pros 
 perous portion of the city, and work was rapidly 
 
Behind the Scenes. 199 
 
 progressing on the tomb, when Mrs. Lincoln 
 made strenuous objection to the location. She 
 declared that she would stop the body in Chicago 
 before it should be laid to rest in the lot pur 
 chased for the purpose by the City of Springfield. 
 She gave as a reason, that it was her desire to be 
 laid by the side of her husband when she died, 
 and that such would be out of the question in a 
 public place of the kind. As is well known, the 
 difficulty was finally settled by placing the re 
 mains of the President in the family vault at 
 Oak Ridge, a charming spot for the home of the 
 dead. 
 
 After the President s funeral Mrs. Lincoln 
 rallied, and began to make preparations to leave 
 the White House. One day she suddenly ex 
 claimed : " God, Elizabeth, what a change ! Did 
 ever woman have to suffer so much and expe 
 rience so great a change ? I had an ambition to 
 be Mrs. President ; that ambition has been grati 
 fied, and now I must step down from the pedes- 
 
200 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 tal. My poor husband ! had he never been Pre 
 sident, he might be living to-day. Alas ! all is 
 over with me !" 
 
 Folding her arras for a few moments, she rock 
 ed back and forth, then commenced again, more 
 vehemently than ever: "My God, Elizabeth, I 
 can never go back to Springfield! no, never, 
 until I go in my shroud to be laid by my dear 
 husband s side, and may Heaven speed that day ! 
 I should like to live for my sons, but life is so full 
 of misery that I would rather die." And then 
 she would go off into a fit of hysterics. 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 
 MRS. LINCOLN LEAVES THE WHITE HOUSE. 
 
 
 I OR five weeks Mrs. Lincoln was con 
 fined to her room. Packing afford 
 ed quite a relief, as it so closely 
 occupied us that we had not much 
 time for lamentation. 
 
 Letters of condolence were received from all 
 parts of the country, and even from foreign po 
 tentates, but Mr. Andrew Johnson, the successor 
 of Mr. Lincoln, never called on the widow, or 
 even so much as wrote a line expressing sympathy 
 for her grief and the loss of her husband. Rob 
 ert called on him one clay to tell him that his 
 mother would turn the White House over to him 
 
202 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 in a few days, and lie never even so much as 
 inquired after their welfare. Mrs. Lincoln firmly 
 believes that Mr. Johnson was concerned in the 
 assassination plot. 
 
 In packing, Mrs. Lincoln gave away every 
 thing intimately connected with the President, as 
 she said that she could not bear to be reminded of 
 the past. The articles were given to those who 
 were regarded as the warmest of Mr. Lincoln s 
 admirers. All of the presents passed through my 
 hands. The dress that Mrs. Lincoln wore on the 
 night of the assassination was given to Mrs. 
 Slade, the wife of an old and faithful messenger. 
 The cloak, stained with the President s blood, 
 was given to me, as also was the bonnet worn on 
 the same memorable nicvht. Afterwards I re- 
 
 O 
 
 ceived the comb and brush that Mr. Lincoln used 
 during his residence at the White House. With 
 this same comb and brush I had often combed 
 his head. When almost ready to go down to a 
 reception, he would turn to me with a quizzical 
 
Behind the Scenes. 203 
 
 look : " Well, Madam Elizabeth, will you brush 
 my bristles down to-night ? " 
 
 "Yes, Mr. Lincoln." 
 
 Then he would take his seat in an easy-chair, 
 and sit quietly while I arranged his hair. As may 
 well be imagined, I was only too glad to accept 
 this comb and brush from the hands of Mrs. 
 Lincoln. The cloak, bonnet, comb, and brush, 
 the glove worn at the first reception after the 
 second inaugural, and Mr. Lincoln s over-shoes, 
 also given to me, I have since donated for the 
 benefit of Wilberforce University, a colored col 
 lege near Xenia, .Ohio, destroyed by fire on the 
 night that the President was murdered. 
 
 There was much surmise, when Mrs. Lincoln 
 left the White House, what her fifty or sixty 
 boxes, not to count her score of trunks, could 
 contain. Had the government not been so liberal 
 in furnishing the boxes, it is possible that there 
 would have been less demand for so much trans 
 portation. The boxes were loosely packed, and 
 
204 f .Behind the Scenes. 
 
 many of tliem with articles not worth carrying 
 away. Mrs. Lincoln had a passion for hoarding 
 old things, believing, with Toodles, that they were 
 u handy to have about the house." 
 
 The bonnets that she brought with her from 
 Springfield, in addition to every one purchased 
 during her residence in Washington, were packed 
 in the boxes, and transported to Chicago. She 
 remarked that she might find use for the material 
 some day, and it was prudent to look to the 
 
 future. I am sorry to say that Mrs. Lincoln s 
 
 \ 
 
 foresight in regard to the future was only con 
 fined to cast-off clothing, as she owed, at the time 
 of the President s death, different store bills 
 amounting to seventy thousand dollars. Mr. 
 Lincoln knew nothing of these bills, and the only 
 happy feature of his assassination was that he 
 died in ignorance of them. Had he known 
 
 S 
 
 to what extent his w r ife was involved, the fact 
 would have embittered the only pleasant mo 
 ments of his life. I disclose this secret in regard 
 
Behind the Scenes. 205 
 
 to Mrs. Lincoln s debts, in order to explain why 
 she should subsequently have labored under 
 pecuniary embarrassment. The children, as well 
 as herself, had received a vast number of presents 
 during Mr. Lincoln s administration, and these 
 presents constituted a large item in the contents 
 of the boxes. The only article of furniture, so 
 far as I know, taken away from the White House 
 by Mrs. Lincoln, was a little dressing-stand used 
 by the President. I recollect hearing him say 
 one day : 
 
 " Mother, this little stand is so handy, and suits 
 me so well, that I do not know how I shall get 
 along without it when we move away from 
 here." He was standing before a mirror, brush- 
 ing his hair, when he made the remark. 
 
 "Well, father," Mrs. Lincoln replied, "if you 
 like the stand so well, we will take it with us 
 when we go away." 
 
 "Not for the world," he exclaimed; but she 
 interrupted him : 
 
206 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 "I should like to know what difference it 
 makes if we put a better one in its place." 
 
 " That alters the question. If you will put a 
 stand in its place worth twice as much as this 
 one, and the Commissioner consents, then I have 
 no objection." 
 
 Mrs. Lincoln remembered these words, and, 
 with the consent of the Commissioner, took the 
 stand to Chicago with her for the benefit of little 
 Tad. Another stand, I must not forget to add, 
 was put in its place. 
 
 It is charged that a great deal of furniture was 
 lost from the White House during Mr. Lincoln s 
 occupation of it. Very true, and it can be 
 accounted for in this way : In some respects, to 
 put the case very plainly, Mrs. Lincoln was 
 "penny wise and pound foolish." When she 
 moved into the White House, she discharged the 
 Steward, whose business it was to look after the 
 affairs of the household. When the Steward was 
 dismissed, there was no one to superintend affairs, 
 
Behind the Scenes. 207 
 
 and the servants carried away many pieces of 
 furniture. In this manner the furniture rap 
 idly disappeared. 
 
 Robert was frequently in the room where the 
 boxes were being packed, and he tried without 
 avail to influence his mother to set fire to her 
 vast stores of old goods. " What are you going 
 to do with that old dress, mother ? " he would ask. 
 
 "Never mind, Robert, I will find use for it. 
 You do not understand this business." 
 
 " And what is more, I hope I never may un 
 derstand it. I wish to heaven the car would 
 take fire in which you place these boxes for trans 
 portation to Chicago, and burn all of your old 
 plunder up;" and then, with an impatient ges 
 ture, he would turn on his heel and leave the 
 room. 
 
 " Robert is so impetuous," his mother would 
 say to me, after the closing of the door. "He 
 never thinks about the future. Well, I hope 
 that he will get over his boyish notions in time." 
 
208 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 Many of the articles that Mrs. Lincoln took 
 away from the White House were given, after 
 her arrival in Chicago, for the benefit of charity 
 fairs. 
 
 At last everything was packed, and the day 
 for departure for the West came. I can never 
 forget that day ; it was so unlike the day when 
 the body of the President was borne from the 
 hall in grand and solemn state. Then thousands 
 gathered to bow the head in reverence as the 
 plumed hearse drove down the line. There was 
 all the pomp of military display drooping flags, 
 battalions with reversed arms, and bands playing 
 dirge-like airs. Now, the wife of the President 
 was leaving the White House, and there was 
 scarcely a friend to tell her good-by. She 
 passed down the public stairway, entered her 
 carriage, and quietly drove to the depot where 
 we took the cars. The silence was almost pain 
 ful. 
 
 It had been arranged that I should go to 
 
Behind the Scenes. 209 
 
 Chicago. When Mrs. Lincoln first suggested 
 her plan, I strongly objected ; but I had been 
 with her so long, that she had acquired great 
 power over me. 
 
 " I cannot go West with you, Mrs. Lincoln," I 
 said, when the idea was first advanced. 
 
 " But you must go to Chicago with me, Eliza 
 beth ; I cannot do without you." 
 
 "You forget my business, Mrs. Lincoln. I 
 cannot leave it. Just now I have the spring 
 trousseau to make for Mrs. Douglas, and I have 
 promised to have it done in less than a week." 
 
 "Never mind. Mrs. Douglas can get some 
 one else to make her trousseau. You may find it 
 to your interest to go. I am very poor now, but 
 if Congress makes an appropriation for my 
 benefit, you shall be well rewarded." 
 
 " It is not the reward, but " I commenced, by 
 way of reply, but she stopped me : 
 
 " Now don t say another word about it, if you 
 do not wish to distress me. I have determined 
 
210 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 that you shall go to Chicago with me, and you 
 must go." 
 
 When Mrs. Douglas learned that Mrs. Lincoln 
 wished me to accompany her West, she sent me 
 word : 
 
 " Never mind me. Do all you can for Mrs. 
 Lincoln. My heart s sympathy is with her." 
 
 Finding that no excuse would be accepted, I 
 made preparations to go to Chicago with Mrs. L. 
 
 The green car had specially been chartered for 
 us, and in this we were conveyed to the West. 
 Dr. Henry accompanied us, and lie was remark 
 ably attentive and kind. The first night out, 
 Mrs. Lincoln had a severe headache ; and while I 
 was bathing her temples, she said to me : 
 
 " Lizabeth, you are my best and kindest friend, 
 and I love you as my best friend. I wish it were 
 in my powder to make you comfortable for the 
 balance of your days. If Congress provides for 
 me, depend upon it, I will provide for you." 
 
 The trip was devoid of interest. We arrived 
 
Behind the Scenes. 211 
 
 in Chicago without accident or delay, and apart 
 ments were secured for us at the Tremont House, 
 where we remained one week. At the expiration 
 of this time Mrs. Lincoln decided that living at 
 the hotel was attended with too much expense, 
 so it" was arranged that we should go to the 
 country. Rooms were selected at Hyde Park, a 
 summer resort. 
 
 Robert and Tad accompanied their mother to 
 Hyde Park. We arrived about 3 o clock in the 
 afternoon of Saturday. The place had just been 
 opened the summef before, and there was a new 
 ness about everything. The accommodations 
 were not first-class, the rooms being small and 
 plainly furnished. It was a lively day for us all. 
 Robert occupied himself unpacking his books, and 
 arranging them on the shelves in the corner of 
 his small but neat room. I assisted him, he talk 
 ing pleasantly all the while. When we were 
 through, he folded his arms, stood off a little dis 
 tance from the mantel, with -an abstracted look 
 
212 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 as if lie were thinking of the great change in his 
 fortunes contrasting the present with the past. 
 Turning to me, he asked : " "Well, Mrs. Keckley, 
 how do you like our new quarters ? " 
 
 " This is a delightful place, and I think you 
 will pass your time pleasantly," I answered. 
 
 He looked at me with a quizzical smile, then 
 remarked : " You call it a delightful place ! 
 Well, perhaps it is. Since you do not have 
 to stay here, you can safely say as much about 
 the>charming situation as you please. I presume 
 that I must put up with it, 3s mother s pleasure 
 must be consulted before my own. But candidly, 
 I would almost as soon be dead as be compelled 
 to remain three months in this dreary house." 
 
 He seemed to feel what he said, and going to 
 the window, he looked out upon the view with 
 moody countenance. I passed into Mrs. Lin 
 coln s room, and found her lying upon the bed, 
 sobbing as if her heart would break. 
 
 "What a dreary place, Lizzie! and to think 
 
Behind the Scenes. 213 
 
 that I should be compelled to live here, because I 
 have not the means to live elsewhere. Ah ! what 
 a sad change has come to us all." I had listened 
 to her sobbing for eight weeks, therefore I was 
 never surprised to find her in tears. Tad was 
 the only cheerful one of the party. He was a 
 child of sunshine, and nothing seemed to dampen 
 the ardor of his spirits. 
 
 Sunday was a very quiet day. I looked out of 
 my window in the morning, upon the beautiful 
 lake that formed one of the most delightful views 
 from the house. The wind was just strong 
 enough to ripple the broad bosom of the water, 
 and each ripple caught a jewel from the sunshine, 
 and threw it sparkling up towards the sky. Here 
 and there a sail-boat silently glided into view, or 
 sank below the faint blue line that marked the 
 horizon glided and melted away like the spec 
 tral shadows that sometimes haunt the white 
 snow-fields in the cold, tranquil light of a win 
 ter s moon. As I stood by my window that 
 
214: Behind the Scenes. 
 
 morning, looking out upon the lake, my thoughts 
 were etherealized the reflected sunbeams sug 
 gested visions of crowns studded with the jewels of 
 eternal life, and I wondered how any one could call 
 Hyde Park a dreary place. Uiad seen so much 
 trouble in my life, that I was willing to fold my 
 arms and sink into a passive slumber slumber 
 anywhere, so the great longing of the soul was 
 gratified rest. 
 
 Robert spent the day in his room with his 
 books, while I remained in Mrs. Lincoln s room, 
 talking with her, contrasting the present with the 
 past, and drawing plans for the future. She held 
 no communication, by letter or otherwise, with 
 any of her relatives or old friends, saying that she 
 wished to lead a secluded life for the summer. 
 Old faces, she claimed, would only bring back 
 memories of scenes that she desired to forget ; 
 and new faces, she felt assured, could not sym 
 pathize with her distress, or add to the comforts 
 of her situation. 
 
Behind the Scenes. 215 
 
 On Monday morning, Robert was getting 
 ready to ride into Chicago, as business called him 
 to the city. 
 
 " "Where you goin , brother Bob ? " Tad gen 
 erally called Robert, brother Bob. 
 
 " Only into town ! " was the brief reply. 
 
 " Mayn t I go with you ? " 
 
 " Ask mother. I think that she will say no." 
 
 Just then Mrs. Lincoln came in, and Tad ran 
 to her, with the eager question : 
 
 " Oh, Ma ! can t I go to town with brother 
 Bob ? I want to go so badly." 
 
 " Go to town ! No ; you must stay and keep 
 me company. Besides, I have determined that 
 you shall get a lesson every day, and I am going 
 to commence to-day with you." 
 
 " I don t want to get a lesson I won t get a 
 lesson," broke in the impetuous boy. " I don t 
 want to learn my book ; I want to go to town ! " 
 
 " I suppose you want to grow up to be a great 
 dunce. Hush, Tad ; you shall not go to town 
 
216 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 until you have said a lesson;" and the mothei 
 looked resolute. 
 
 " May I go after I learn my book ? " was the 
 next question. 
 
 " Yes ; if Robert will wait for you." 
 
 " Oh, Bob will wait ; won t you, Bob ? " 
 
 " No, I cannot wait ; but the landlord is going 
 in this afternoon, and you can go with him. You 
 must do as mother tells you, Tad. You are get 
 ting to be a big boy now, and must start to 
 school next fall ; and you would not like to go to 
 school without knowing how to read." 
 
 " Where s my book, Ma ? Get my book quick. 
 I will say my lesson," and he jumped about the 
 room, boisterously, boy-like. 
 
 " Be quiet, Tad. Here is your book, and we 
 will now begin the first lesson," said his mother, 
 as she seated herself in an easy-chair. 
 
 Tad had always been much humored by his 
 parents, especially by his father. Pie suffered 
 from a slight impediment in his speech, and had 
 
Behind the Scenes. 217 
 
 never been made to go to school ; consequently 
 his book knowledge was very limited. I knew 
 that his education had been neglected, but had 
 no idea he was so deficient as the first lesson at 
 Hyde Park proved him to be. 
 
 Drawing a low chair to his mother s side, he 
 opened his book, and began to slowly spell the 
 first word, "A-p-e. ?> 
 
 "Well, what does A-p-e spell?" 
 
 "Monkey," was the instant rejoinder. The 
 word was illustrated by a small wood-cut of an 
 ape, which looked to Tad s eyes very much like 
 a monkey ; and his pronunciation was guided by 
 the picture, and not by the sounds of , the different 
 letters. 
 
 "Nonsense!" exclaimed his mother. "A-p-e 
 does not spell monkey." 
 
 "Does spell monkey! Isn t that a monkey?" 
 and Tad pointed triumphantly to the picture. 
 
 "No, it is not a monkey." 
 
 " Not a monkey ! what is it, then ? " 
 
218 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 "An ape." 
 
 " An ape ! taint an ape. Don t I know a 
 monkey when I see it ? " 
 
 " No, if you say that is a monkey." 
 
 " I do know a monkey. I ve seen lots of them 
 in the street with the organs. I know a monkey 
 better than you do, cause I always go out into 
 the street to see them when they come by, and 
 you don t." 
 
 " But, Tad, listen to me. An ape is a species 
 of the monkey. It looks like a monkey, but it is 
 not a monkey." 
 
 "It shouldn t look like a monkey, then. Here, 
 Yib" he always called me Yib "isn t this a 
 monkey, and don t A-p-e spell monkey ? Ma 
 don t know anything about it;" and he thrust 
 his book into my face in an earnest, excited 
 manner. 
 
 I could not longer restrain myself, and burst 
 out laughing. Tad looked very much offended, 
 and I hastened to say : " I beg your pardon, 
 
Behind the Scenes. 219 
 
 Master Tad; I hope that you will excuse my 
 want of politeness." 
 
 He bowed his taead in a patronizing way, and 
 returned to the original question: "Isn t this 
 a monkey ? Don t A-p-e spell monkey ? " 
 
 " No, Tad ; your mother is right. A-p-e spells 
 ape." 
 
 " You don t know as much as Ma. Both of 
 you don t know anything ;" and Master Tad s 
 eyes flashed with indignation. 
 
 Robert entered the room, and the question was 
 referred to him. After many explanations, he 
 succeeded in convincing Tad that A-p-e does 
 not spell monkey, and the balance of the lesson 
 was got over with less difficulty. 
 
 "Whenever I think of this incident I am tempt 
 ed to laugh ; and then it occurs to me that had 
 Tad been a negro boy, not the son of a Presi 
 dent, and so difficult to instruct, he would have 
 been called thick-skulled, and would have been 
 held up as an example of the inferiority of race. 
 
220 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 I know many full negro boys, able to read and 
 write, who are not older than Tad Lincoln was 
 when he persisted that A-p-e spelt monkey. Bo 
 not imagine that I desire to reflect upon the 
 intellect of little Tad. Not at all; he is a 
 bright boy, a son that will do honor to the 
 genius and greatness of his father ; I only mean 
 to say that some incidents are about as damaging 
 to one side of the question as to the other. If a 
 colored boy appears dull, so does a white boy 
 sometimes ; and if a whole race is judged by 
 a single example of apparent dulness, another 
 race should be judged by a similar example. 
 
 I returned to Washington, with Mrs. Lincoln s 
 best wishes for my success in business. The 
 journey was devoid of incident. After resting 
 a few days, I called at the White House, and 
 transacted some business for Mrs. Lincoln. I had 
 no desire to enter the house, for everything about 
 it bitterly reminded me of the past ; and when 
 I came out of the door, I hoped that I had crossed 
 
Behind the Scenes. 221 
 
 the threshold for the last time. I was asked by 
 some of my friends if I had sent my business cards 
 to Mr. Johnson s family, and my answer was that 
 1 had not, as I had no desire to work for the 
 President s family. Mr. Johnson was no friend to 
 Mr. Lincoln, and he had failed to treat Mrs. Lin 
 coln, in the hour of her greatest sorrow, with 
 even common courtesy. 
 
 Having promised to make a spring trousseau 
 for Mrs. Senator Douglas as soon as I should 
 return from Chicago, I called on her to meet the 
 engagement. She appeared pleased to see me, 
 and in greeting me, asked, with evident surprise : 
 
 " Why, Keckley " she always called me Keck : 
 ley " is this you ? I did not know you were 
 coming back. It was reported that you designed 
 remaining with Mrs. Lincoln all summer." 
 
 " Mrs. Lincoln would have been glad to have 
 kept me with her had she been able." 
 
 " Able ! What do you mean by that ? " 
 
 " Simply this : Already she is laboring under pe- 
 
222 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 cuniary embarrassment, and was only able to pay 
 my expenses, and allow me nothing for my time." 
 
 " You surprise me. I thought she was left in 
 good circumstances." 
 
 " So many think, it appears. Mrs. Lincoln, I 
 assure you, is now practising the closest economy. 
 I must do something for myself, Mrs. Douglas, so I 
 have come back to Washington to open my shop." 
 
 The next day I collected my assistants, and 
 my business went on as usual. Orders came in 
 more rapidly than I could fill them. One day, in 
 the middle of the month of June, the girl who 
 was attending the door came into the cutting- 
 room, where I was hard at work : 
 
 "Mrs. Keckley, there is a lady below, who 
 wants to see you." 
 
 "Who is she?" 
 
 " I don t know. I did not learn her name." 
 
 " Is her face familiar ? Does she look like a 
 regular customer ? " 
 
 " JSTo, she is a stranger. I don t think she was 
 
Behind the Scenes. 223 
 
 ever here before. She came in an open carriage, 
 with a black woman for an attendant." 
 
 " It may be the wife of one of Johnson s new 
 secretaries. Do go down, Mrs. Keckley," exclaim 
 ed my work-girls in a chorus. I went below, and 
 on entering the parlor, a plainly dressed lady 
 rose to her feet, and asked : 
 
 " Is this the dressmaker ? " 
 
 " Yes, I am a dressmaker." 
 
 " Mrs. Keckley ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Mrs. Lincoln s former dressmaker, were you 
 not ? " 
 
 " Yes, I worked for Mrs. Lincoln." 
 
 " Are you very busy now ? " 
 
 " Yery, indeed." 
 
 " Can you do anything for me ? " 
 
 " That depends upon what is to be done, and 
 when it is to be done." 
 
 " Well, say one dress now, and several others 
 a few weeks later." 
 
224: Behind the Scenes. 
 
 " I can make one dress for you now, but no 
 more. I cannot finish the one for you in less 
 than three weeks." 
 
 " That will answer. I am Mrs. Patterson, the 
 daughter of President Johnson. I expect my 
 sister, Mrs. Stover, here in three weeks, and the 
 dress is for her. We are both the same size, and 
 you can fit the dress to me." 
 
 The terms were satisfactorily arranged, and 
 after measuring Mrs. Patterson, she bade me good 
 morning, entered her carriage, and drove away. 
 
 When I went up-stairs into the work-room, the 
 girls were anxious to learn who my visitor was. 
 
 " It was Mrs. Patterson, the daughter of Presi 
 dent Johnson," I answered, in response to several 
 questions. 
 
 "What ! the daughter of our good Moses. Are 
 you going. to work for her? " 
 
 " I have taken her order." 
 
 " I fear that Johnson will prove a poor Moses, 
 and I would not work for any of the family," 
 
Behind the Scenes. 225 
 
 remarked one of the girls. Kone of them ap 
 peared to like Mr. Lincoln s successor. 
 
 I finished the dress for Mrs. Patterson, and it 
 gave satisfaction. I afterwards learned that both 
 Mrs. Patterson and Mrs. Stover were kind- 
 hearted, plain, unassuming women, making no 
 pretensions to elegance. One day when I called 
 at the White House, in relation to some work 
 that I was doing for them, I found Mrs. Patter 
 son busily at work with a sewing-machine. The 
 sight was a novel one to me for the White House, 
 for as long as I remained with Mrs. Lincoln, I do 
 not recollect ever having seen her with a needle 
 in her hand. The last work done for the John 
 sons by me were two dresses, one for each of the 
 sisters. Mrs. Patterson subsequently wrote me a 
 note, requesting me to cut and fit a dress for her ; 
 to which I replied that I never cut and fitted work 
 to be made up outside of my work-room. This 
 brought our business relations to an abrupt end. 
 
 The months passed, and my business prospered. 
 
226 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 I continually received letters from Mrs. Lincoln, 
 and as the anniversary of her husband s death ap 
 proached, she wrote in a sadder strain. Before I 
 left Chicago she had exacted the promise that 
 should Congress make an appropriation for her 
 benefit, I must join her in the West, and go with 
 her to visit the tomb of the President for the first 
 time. The appropriation was made one of the 
 conditions of my visit, for without relief from 
 Congress she would be unable to bear my ex 
 penses. T3ie appropriation was not made ; and 
 so I was unable to join Mrs. Lincoln at the ap 
 pointed time. She wrote me that her plan was 
 to leave Chicago in the morning with Tad, reach 
 Springfield at night, stop at one of the hotels, 
 drive out to Oak Kidge the next day, and take 
 the train for Chicago the same evening, thus 
 avoiding a meeting with any of her old friends. 
 This plan, as she afterwards wrote me, was 
 carried out. When the second anniversary ap 
 proached, President Johnson and party were 
 
Behind the Scenes. 227 
 
 "swinging round the circle," and as they were to 
 visit Chicago, she was especially anxious to be 
 away from the city when they should arrive ; ac 
 cordingly she hurried off to Springfield, and 
 spent the time in weeping over the tomb where 
 repose the hallowed ashes of her husband. 
 
 During all this time I was asked many ques 
 tions about Mrs. Lincoln, some prompted by 
 friendship, but a greater number by curiosity ; but 
 my brief answers, I fear, were not always accept 
 ed as the most satisfactory. 
 
CHAPTEE XIII. 
 
 THE ORIGIN OF THE RIVALRY BETWEEN MR. DOUGLAS 
 AND MR. LINCOLN. 
 
 |ES. LINCOLN from her girlhood up 
 had an ambition to become the wife 
 of a President. When a little girl, 
 as I was told by one of her sisters, 
 she was disposed to be a little noisy at times, and 
 was self-willed. One day she was romping 
 about the room, making more noise than the 
 nerves of her grandmother could stand. The 
 old lady looked over her spectacles, and said, in a 
 commanding tone : 
 
 " Sit down, Mary. Do be quiet. What on 
 
Behind the Scenes. 229 
 
 earth do you suppose will become of you if you 
 go on this way ? " 
 
 " Oh, I will be the wife of a President some 
 day," carelessly answered the petted child. 
 
 Mrs. Lincoln, as Miss Mary Todd, was quite a 
 belle in Springfield, Illinois, and from all ac 
 counts she was fond of flirting. She generally 
 managed to keep a half-dozen gentlemen biting 
 at the hook that she baited so temptingly for 
 them. The world, if I mistake not, are not 
 aware that the rivalry between Mr. Lincoln and 
 Mr. Stephen A. Douglas commenced over the 
 hand of Miss Mary Todd. The young lady was 
 ambitious, and she smiled more sweetly upon Mr. 
 Douglas and Mr. Lincoln than any of her other 
 admirers, as they were regarded as rising men. 
 She played her part so well that neither of the 
 rivals for a long time could tell who would win 
 the day. Mr. Douglas first proposed for her 
 hand, and she discarded him. The young man 
 urged his suit boldly : 
 
230 JBehind the Scenes. 
 
 "Mary, you do not know what you -are refu 
 sing. You have always had an ambition to 
 become the wife of a President of the United 
 States. Pardon the egotism, but I fear that in 
 refusing my hand to-night you have thrown 
 away your best chance to ever rule in the White 
 House." 
 
 " I do not understand you, Mr. Douglas." 
 
 " Then I will speak more plainly. You know, 
 Mary, that I am ambitious like yourself, and. 
 something seems to whisper in my ear, 6 You will 
 be President some day. Depend upon it, 1 
 shall make a stubborn fight to win the proud* 
 position." 
 
 " You have my best wishes, Mr. Douglas ; 
 still I cannot consent to be your wife. I shall 
 become Mrs. President, or I am the victim of 
 false prophets, but it will not be as Mrs. 
 Douglas." 
 
 . I have this little chapter in a romantic history 
 from the lips of Mrs. Lincoln herself. 
 
Behind the Scenes. 231 
 
 At one of the receptions at the White House, 
 shortly after the first inauguration, Mrs. Lincoln 
 joined in the promenade with Senator Douglas. 
 He was holding a bouquet that had been pre 
 sented to her, and as they moved along he said : 
 
 " Mary, it reminds me of old times to have you 
 lean upon my arm." 
 
 " You refer to the days of our youth. I must 
 do you the credit, Mr. Douglas, to say, that you 
 were a gallant beau." 
 
 " Not only a beau, but a lover. Do you 
 remember the night our flirtation was brought to 
 an end?" 
 
 " Distinctly. You now see that I was right. 
 I am Mrs. President, but not Mrs. Douglas." 
 
 " True, you have reached the goal before me, 
 but I do not despair. Mrs. Douglas a nobler 
 woman does not live if I am spared, may possi 
 bly succeed you as Mrs. President." 
 
 A few evenings after Mr. Douglas had been 
 discarded, Mr. Lincoln made a formal proposal 
 
232 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 for the hand of Miss Todd, but it appears that 
 the young lady was not willing to capitulate at 
 once. She believed that she could send her 
 lover adrift to-day and win him back to-morrow. 
 
 " You are bold, Mr. Lincoln." 
 
 " Love makes me bold." 
 
 " You honor me, pardon me, but I cannot con 
 sent to be your wife." 
 
 " Is this your final answer, Miss Todd ? " and 
 the suitor rose nervously to his feet. 
 
 "I do not often jest, Mr. Lincoln. Why 
 should I reconsider to-morrow my decision of 
 to-day." 
 
 "Excuse me. Your answer is sufficient. I was 
 led to hope that I might become dearer to you 
 than a friend, but the hope, it seems, has proved 
 an idle one. I have the honor to say good 
 night, Miss Todd," and pale, yet calm, Mr. 
 Lincoln bowed himself out of the room. 
 
 He rushed to his office in a frantic state of 
 mind. Dr. Henry, his most intimate friend, hap- 
 
^Behind the Scenes. 233 
 
 pened to come in, and was surprised to see the 
 young lawyer walking the floor in an agitated 
 manner. 
 
 u What is the matter, Lincoln ? You look des 
 perate." 
 
 " Matter ! I am sick of the world. It is a 
 heartless, deceitful world, and I care not how 
 soon I am out of it." 
 
 " You rave. What has happened ? Have you 
 been quarrelling with your sweetheart ? " 
 
 " Quarrel ! I wish to God it was a quarrel, for 
 then I could look forward to reconciliation ; the 
 girl has refused to become my wife, after leading 
 me to believe that she loved me. She is a heart 
 less coquette." 
 
 " Don t give up the conquest so easily. Cheer 
 up, man, you may succeed yet. Perhaps she 
 is only testing your love." 
 
 " No ! I believe that she is going to marry 
 Douglas. If she does I will blow my brains out." 
 
 " Nonsense ! That would not mend matters. 
 
234: Behind the Scenes. 
 
 Your brains were given to you for different use. 
 Come, we will go to your room now. Go to bed 
 and sleep on the question, and you will get up 
 feeling stronger to-morrow ;" and Dr. Henry took 
 the arm of his friend Lincoln, led him home, and 
 saw him safely in bed. 
 
 The next morning the doctor called at Mr. 
 Lincoln s room, and found that his friend had 
 passed a restless night. Excitement had brought 
 on fever, which threatened to assume a violent 
 form, as the cause of the excitement still re 
 mained. Several days passed, and Mr. Lincoln 
 was confined to his bed. Dr. Henry at once 
 determined to call on Miss Todd, and find out 
 how desperate the case was. Miss Todd was glad 
 to see him, and she was deeply distressed to learn 
 that Mr. Lincoln was ill. She wished to go to 
 him at once, but the Doctor reminded her that she 
 was the cause of his illness. She frankly ac 
 knowledged her folly, saying that she only desired 
 to test the sincerity of Mr. Lincoln s love, that he 
 
Behind the Scenes. 235 
 
 was the idol of her heart, and that she would 
 become his wife. 
 
 The Doctor returned with joyful news to his 
 patient. The intelligence proved the best remedy 
 for the disease. Mutual explanations followed, 
 and in a few months Mr. Lincoln led Miss Todd 
 to the altar in triumph. 
 
 I learned these facts from Dr. Henry and Mrs. 
 Lincoln. I believe them to be facts, and as such 
 have recorded them. They do not agree with 
 Mr. Herndon s story, that Mr. Lincoln never 
 loved but one woman, and that woman was Ann 
 Rutledge; but then Mr. Herndon s story must be 
 looked upon as a pleasant piece of fiction. 
 When it appeared, Mrs. Lincoln felt shocked 
 that one who pretended to be the friend of her 
 dead husband should deliberately seek to blacken 
 his memory. Mr. Lincoln w T as far too honest a 
 man to marry a woman that he did not love. He 
 was a kind and an indulgent husband, and when 
 he saw faults in his wife he excused them as he 
 
236 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 would excuse the impulsive acts of a child. In 
 fact, Mrs. Lincoln was never more pleased than 
 when the President called her his child-wife. 
 
 Before closing this rambling chapter I desire 
 to refer to another incident. 
 
 After the death of my son, Miss Mary Welsh, a 
 dear friend, one of my old St. Louis patrons, called 
 to. see me, and on broaching the cause of my grief, 
 she condoled with me. She knew that I had 
 looked forward to the day when my son would 
 be a support to me knew that he was to become 
 the prop and main-stay of my old age, and know 
 ing this, she advised me to apply for a pension. 
 I disliked the idea very much, and told her so 
 told her that I did not want to make money out 
 of his death. She explained away all of my 
 objections argued that Congress had made an 
 appropriation for the specific purpose of giving a 
 pension to every widow who should lose an only 
 son in the war, and insisted that I should have 
 my rights. She was so enthusiastic in the matter 
 
Behind the Scenes. 237 
 
 that she went to see Hon. O\ven Lovejoy, then a 
 member of the House from Illinois, and laid my 
 case before him. Mr. Lovejoy was very kind, 
 and said as I was entitled to the pension, I should 
 have it, even if he had to bring the subject before 
 Congress. I did not desire public agitation, and 
 Mr. Lovejoy prepared my claim and laid it before 
 the Commissioners. In the meantime he left 
 Washington, and Mr. Joseph Lovejoy, his brother, 
 prosecuted the claim for me, and finally succeeded 
 in securing me a pension of eight dollars per. 
 inonfli. Mr. Joseph Lovejoy was inclined to the 
 Democratic party, and he pressed my claim with 
 great earnestness ; he hoped that the claim would 
 not be allowed, as he said the rejection of it 
 would make capital for his party. Nevertheless 
 the pension was granted, and I am none the less 
 thankful to Mr. Joseph Lovejoy for his kindness 
 
 to me, and interest in my welfare. 
 11 
 
CHAPTEE XIY. 
 
 OLD FRIENDS. 
 
 order to introduce a pleasant chap 
 ter of my life, I must take a slight 
 retrospective glance. Mrs. Ann 
 Garland, the mistress from whom 
 I purchased my freedom in St. Louis, had five 
 daughters, all lovely, attractive girls. I used to 
 take pride in dressing the two eldest, Miss Mary 
 and Miss Carrie, for parties. Though the family 
 labored under pecuniary embarrassment, I work 
 ed for these two young girls, and they were 
 always able to present a good appearance in 
 society. They were much admired, and both 
 
Behind the Scenes. 239 
 
 made the best matches of the season. Miss 
 Mary married Dr. Pappan, and Miss Carrie, Dr. 
 John Farrow. I loved them both tenderly, and 
 they were warmly attached to me. Both are 
 now dead, and when the death-film was gather 
 ing in the eyes, each called for me and asked to 
 die in my arms. Miss Carrie did not long sur 
 vive her sister, and I wept many tears over the 
 death-beds of the two lovely flowers that had 
 blossomed so sweetly beneath my eyes.. Each 
 breathed her last in the arms that had sheltered 
 them so often in the bright rosy period of life. 
 My mother took care of my son, and Miss 
 Nannie Garland, the fourth daughter, w r hen a 
 wee thing, became my especial charge. She 
 slept in my bed, and I watched over her as if 
 she had been my own child. She called me 
 Yiddie, and I could not have loved her more 
 tenderly had she been the sister of my unfor 
 tunate boy. She was about twelve years old 
 when I purchased my freedom, and resigned my 
 
240 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 charge to other hands. After Mr. Garland s 
 death, the widow moved to Vicksburg, Missis 
 sippi, and I lost sight of the family for a few 
 years. My mother accompanied them to Vicks- 
 burg, where she died. I made two visits to 
 Yicksburg as a free woman, the object of my 
 second visit being to look after the few effects 
 left by my mother. As I did not visit my 
 mother s grave at the time, the Garlands were 
 much surprised, but I offered no explanation. 
 The reason is not difficult to understand. My 
 mother was buried in a public ground, and the 
 marks of her grave, as I learned, were so obscure 
 that the spot could not be readily designated. 
 To look upon a grave, and not feel certain whose 
 ashes repose beneath the sod, is painful, and the 
 doubt which mystifies you, weakens the force, if 
 not the purity, of the love-offering from the heart. 
 Memory preserved a sunny picture of my mo 
 ther s face, and I did not wish to weave sombre 
 threads threads suggestive of a deserted grave- 
 
Behind the Scenes. 241 
 
 yard into it, and thus impair its beauty. After 
 spending a few weeks with the family, I returned 
 to St. Louis, and then came North. The war 
 broke out, and I lost all trace of the Garlands. 
 Often, during my residence in Washington, I 
 recalled the past, and wondered what had become 
 of those who claimed iny first duty and my first 
 love. When I would mention their names and 
 express interest in their welfare, my Northern 
 friends would roll up their eyes in surprise. 
 
 ""Why, Lizzie, how can you have a kind 
 thought for those who inflicted a terrible wrong 
 upon you by keeping you in bondage ? " they 
 would ask. . 
 
 " You forget the past is dear to every one, for 
 to the past belongs that golden period, the days 
 of childhood. The past is a . mirror that reflects 
 the chief incidents of my life. To surrender it is 
 to surrender the greatest part of my existence 
 early impressions, friends, and the graves of my 
 father, my mother, and my son. These people 
 
242 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 I are associated with everything that memory holds 
 
 dear, and so long as memory proves faithful, it is 
 but natural that I should sigh to see them once 
 more." 
 
 " But they have forgotten you. They are too 
 selfish to give a single thought to you, now that 
 you no longer are their slave." 
 
 " Perhaps so, but I cannot believe it. You do 
 not know the Southern people as well as I do 
 how warm is the attachment between master and 
 slave." 
 
 My Northern friends could not understand the 
 feeling, therefore explanation was next to useless. 
 They would listen with impatience, and remark 
 at the close, with a shrug of the shoulders, " You 
 have some strange notions, Lizzie." 
 
 In the fall of 1865 a lady called on me at my 
 apartments in Washington. Her face looked 
 familiar, but I could not place her. When I 
 entered the room, she came towards me eagerly : 
 
 " You are surprised to see me, I know. I am 
 
V 
 
 Behind the Scenes. 243 
 
 just from Lynchburg, and when I left cousin 
 Ann I promised to call and see you if I came 
 to Washington. I am here, you see, according 
 to promise." 
 
 I was more bewildered than ever. 
 
 " Cousin Ann ! Pardon me " 
 
 " Oh, I see you do not recognize me. I am 
 Mrs. General Longstreet, but } r ou knew me 
 when a girl as Bettie Garland." 
 
 O 
 
 " Bettie Garland ! And is this indeed you? I 
 am so glad to see you. Where does Miss Ann 
 live now?" I always called my last mistress, 
 Miss Ann. 
 
 "Ah! I thought you could not forget old 
 friends. Cousin Ann is living in Lynchburg. 
 All the family are in Virginia. They moved to 
 the old State during the war. Fannie is dead. 
 Nannie has grown into a woman and is married 
 to General Meem. Hugh was killed in the war, 
 and now only Spot, Maggie, and Nannie are 
 left." 
 
Behind the Scenes. 
 
 " Fannie, dead ! and poor Hugh ! You bring 
 sad news as well as pleasant. And so my little 
 pet is married? I can hardly believe it; she 
 was only a child when I saw her last." 
 
 " Yes, Kannie is married to a noble man. 
 General Meem belongs to one of the best fami 
 lies in Virginia. They are now living at Rude s 
 Hill, up beyond Winchester, in the Shenandoah 
 Yalley. All of them want to see you very badly/ 
 
 "I should be -delighted to go to them. Miss 
 Bettie, I can hardly realize that you are the wife 
 of General Longs treet ; and just think, you are 
 now sitting in the very chair and the very 
 room where Mrs. Lincoln has often sat !" 
 
 She laughed : " The change is a great one, 
 Lizzie; we little dream to-day what to-morrow 
 will bring forth. Well, we must take a philo 
 sophical view of life. After fighting so long 
 against the Yankees, General Longstreet is now 
 in Washington, sueing for pardon, and we pro 
 pose to live in peace with the United States again." 
 
Behind the Scenes. 245 
 
 I had many questions to ask her about old 
 friends, and the time passed rapidly. She greet 
 ed me with the frankness that she had always 
 extended to me, and I was transported to days 
 of the long-ago. Her stay in "Washington was 
 brief, as the General arranged his business, and 
 they left the capital the next day. 
 
 Mrs. Longstreet gave me the Garlands ad 
 dress, and I wrote to them, expressing the hope 
 that I would be able to see them before long. 
 In reply came letters full of tender sympathy and 
 affection. In the winter of 1865, Miss Nannie 
 wrote to me that she had the best husband in the 
 world ; that they designed going to housekeep 
 ing in the spring, and that they would be glad to 
 have me make them a visit in July, 1866. She 
 sent me a pressing invitation. " You must come 
 to me, dear Lizzie," she wrote. "We are now 
 living at Rude s Hill. I am dying to see you. 
 Ma, Maggie, Spot, and Minnie, sister Mary s 
 
 child, are with me, and you only are needed to 
 11* 
 
21-6 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 make the circle complete. Come ; I will not 
 take no for an answer." 
 
 I was anxious to go myself, and when I re 
 ceived the urgent invitation I concluded to go at 
 once, and I wrote them to expect me in August. 
 On the 10th of August I left Washington for 
 Virginia, taking the train for Harper s Ferry. 
 The journey was attended with several disap 
 pointments. We arrived at Harper s Ferry in 
 the night, and being asleep at the time, I was 
 carried to the station beyond, where I had to 
 wait and take the return train. After return 
 ing to Harper s Ferry, where I changed cars 
 for Winchester, I missed the train, and was 
 detained another day. From Winchester the 
 only way to reach Rude s Hill was by a line 
 of stages. We commenced the weary drive in 
 the evening, and rode all night. A young gen 
 tleman in the stage said that he knew General 
 Meem w r ell, and that he would tell me when w T e 
 reached the place. Relying upon him, I went 
 
Behind the Scenes. 247 
 
 to sleep, and it appears that the polite young 
 gentleman followed my example. About four 
 o clock in the morning one of the passengers 
 shook me, and asked: 
 
 " Aunty, don t you want to get out at Rude s 
 Hill?" 
 
 I started up, rubbing my eyes. " Yes. Are 
 
 we there ? " 
 
 
 
 " More than there. We have passed it." 
 
 "Passed it!" 
 
 " Yes. It is six miles back. You should not 
 sleep so soundly, Aunty." 
 
 "Why did you not tell me sooner? I am so 
 anxious to be there." 
 
 " Fact is, I forgot it. Never mind. Get out 
 at this village, and you can find conveyance back." 
 
 The village, New Market, was in a dilapidated 
 condition ; everything about it spoke plainly of 
 the sad destruction of war. Getting out of the 
 stage I went into a house, by courtesy named a 
 hotel, where I obtained a cup of coffee. 
 
24:8 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 " Is there no conveyance from here to Rude s 
 Hill? "I asked. 
 
 " Yes ; the stage returns this evening," an 
 swered the landlord. 
 
 " This evening ! I want to go as soon as pos 
 sible. I should die if I had to stay all day in 
 this lonely place." 
 
 A colored man behind the bar, seeing how 
 earnest I was, came forward, and informed me 
 that he would drive me over to General Meem s 
 place in an hour. This w#s joyful news, and I 
 urged him to get ready to start as soon as pos 
 sible. 
 
 While standing in the door of the hotel, im 
 patiently waiting for my colored friend to drive 
 round with his little wagon, a fat old lady wad 
 dled across the street and greeted me. 
 
 " Ain t you Lizzie ? " 
 
 " Yes," I answered, surprised that she should 
 know my name. 
 
 " I thought so. They have been expecting you 
 
Behind the Scenes. 249 
 
 at Eude s Hill every day for two weeks, and they 
 do but little but talk about you. Mrs. Meem 
 was in town yesterday, and she said that she 
 expected you this week certain. They will ba 
 mighty glad to see you. Why, will you believe 
 it ! they actually have kept a light burning in the 
 front window every night for ten nights, in order 
 that you might not go by the place should you 
 arrive in the night." 
 
 " Thank you. It is pleasant to know that I 
 am expected. I fell asleep in the stage, and 
 failed to see the light, so am here instead of at 
 Eude s Hill." 
 
 Just then the colored man drove up with the 
 wagon, and I got in with him, and was soon on 
 the road to General Meem s country-seat. 
 
 As we drove up to Eude s Hill, I observed a 
 young man standing in the yard, and believing it 
 to be Spot, whom I had not seen for eight years, 
 I beckoned to him. With an exclamation of joy, 
 he came running towards me. His movements 
 
250 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 attracted the attention of the family, and in a 
 minute the door was crowded with anxious, 
 inquiring faces. " It is Lizzie ! It is Lizzie ! " 
 w r as the happy cry from all parties. In my 
 eagerness to get to them, I stepped from the 
 wagon to the top of the stile, intending to make 
 a triumphant leap into the yard ; but, alas ! my 
 exultation was brief. My hoop-skirt caught on 
 one of the posts, and I fell sprawling into the 
 yard. Spot reached me first and picked me up, 
 only to put me into the arms of Miss Nannie, Her 
 sister Maggie, and Mrs. Garland. Could my 
 friends of the North have seen that meeting, they 
 would never have doubted again that the mis 
 tress had any affeption for her former slave. I 
 was carried to the house in triumph. In the par 
 lor I was divested of my things, and placed in an 
 easy-chair before a bright fire. The servants 
 looked on in amazement. 
 
 " Lizzie, you are not changed a bit. You look 
 as young as when you left us in St. Louis, years 
 
Behind the Scenes. 251 
 
 ago," and Mrs. Meem, my foster child, kissed me 
 again. 
 
 " Here, Lizzie, this is Minnie, Minnie Pappan, 
 sister Mary s child. Hasn t she grown ? " and 
 Miss Maggie led a tall, queenly lady up to me. 
 
 "Minnie! Poor dear Miss Mary s child ! I 
 can hardly believe it. She was only a baby 
 when I saw her last. It makes me feel old to 
 see how large she has grown. Miss Minnie, you 
 are larger than your mother was your dear 
 mpther whom I held in my arms when she died ; " 
 and I brushed a tear from each of my eyes. 
 
 " Have you had your breakfast, Lizzie ? " asked 
 Mrs. Garland. 
 
 " ISTo, she has not," exclaimed her children in a 
 chorus. u I will get her breakfast for her," and 
 Nannie, Maggie, and Minnie started for the 
 kitchen. v 
 
 " It is not necessary that all should go," said 
 Mrs. Garland. " Here is the cook, she will get 
 breakfast ready." 
 
252 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 But the three did not heed her. All rushed to 
 the kitchen, and soon brought me a nice hot 
 breakfast. 
 
 While I was eating, the cook remarked : " I 
 declar, I nebber did see people carry on so. 
 "Wonder if I should go off and stay two or three 
 years, if all ob you wud hug and kiss me so when 
 I cum back ? " 
 
 After I had finished my breakfast, General 
 Meem came in. He greeted me warmly. " Liz 
 zie, I am very glad to see you. I feel that you 
 are an old acquaintance, I have heard so much 
 of you through my wife, her sister, and her 
 mother. Welcome to Rude s Hill." 
 
 I was much pleased with his appearance, and 
 closer acquaintance proved him to be a model 
 gentleman. 
 
 Rude s Hill, during the war, was once occupied 
 by General Stonewall Jackson for his head-quar 
 ters, which gave more than ordinary interest to 
 the place. The location was delightful, but 9ie 
 
Behind the Scenes. 253 
 
 marks of war could be seen everywhere on the 
 plantation. General Meem was engaged in 
 planting, and he employed a large number of ser 
 vants to assist him in his work. About a mile 
 from Rude s Hill was Mount Airy, the elegant 
 country-seat of the General s brother. The two 
 families visited each other a great deal, and as 
 both entertained plenty of company, the Autumn 
 months passed pleasantly. I was comfortably 
 quartered at Rude s Hill, and was shown every 
 attention. We sewed together, talking of old 
 times, and every day either drove out, or rode on 
 horseback. The room in which I sat in the day 
 time was the room that General Jackson always 
 slept in, and people came from far and near to 
 look at it. General Jackson was the ideal soldier 
 of the Southern people, and they worshipped him 
 as an idol. Every visitor would tear a splinter 
 from the walls or windows of the room, to take 
 away and treasure as a priceless relic. 
 
 It did not take me long to discover that I was 
 
254: Behind the Scenes. 
 
 an object of great curiosity in the neighborhood. 
 My association with Mrs. Lincoln, and my attach 
 ment for the Garlands, whose slave I had once 
 been, clothed me with romantic interest. 
 
 Colonel Harry Gilmore, well known as a parti 
 san leader in Maryland and Virginia during the 
 war, was a frequent visitor at Mount Airy and 
 Rude s Hill. One day I accompanied a party to 
 a tournament, and General Meem laughed plea 
 santly over the change that had come to me in so 
 short a time. 
 
 " Why, Lizzie, you are riding with Colonel Gil- 
 more. Just think of the change from Lincoln to 
 Gilmore ! It sounds like a dream. But then the 
 change is an evidence of the peaceful feeling of 
 this country ; a change, I trust, that augurs 
 brighter days for us all." 
 
 I had many long talks with Mrs. Garland, in 
 one of which I asked what had become of the 
 only sister of my mother, formerly maid to Mrs. 
 G. s mother. 
 
Behind the Scenes. 255 
 
 " She is dead, Lizzie. Has been dead for some 
 
 years. A maid in the old time meant something 
 
 j 
 
 different from what we understand by a maid at 
 the present time. Your aunt used to scrub the 
 floor and milk a cow now and then, as well as 
 attend to the orders of my mother. My mother 
 was severe with her slaves in some respects, but 
 then her heart was full of kindness. She had your 
 aunt punished one day, and not liking her sor 
 rowful look, she made two extravagant promises 
 in order to effect a reconciliation, both of which 
 were accepted. On condition that her maid 
 would look cheerful, and be good and friendly 
 with her, the mistress told her she might go to 
 church the following Sunday, and that she would 
 give her a silk dress to wear on the occasion. 
 Now my mother had but one silk dress in the 
 world, silk not being so plenty in those days as 
 it is now, and yet she gave this dress to her maid 
 to make friends with her. Two weeks afterward 
 mother was sent for to spend the day at a neigh- 
 
256 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 - ..! - 
 
 bor s house, and on inspecting her wardrobe, dis 
 covered that she had no dress fit to wear in com 
 pany. She had but one alternative, and that was 
 to appeal to the generosity of your aunt Char 
 lotte. Charlotte was summoned, and enlightened 
 in regard to the situation ; the maid proffered to 
 loan the silk dress to her mistress for the occasion, 
 and the mistress was only too glad to accept. 
 She made her appearance at the social gathering, 
 duly arrayed in the silk that her maid had worn 
 to church on the preceding Sunday." 
 
 We laughed over the incident, when Mrs. 
 Garland said : " Lizzie, during the entire war I 
 used to think of you every day, and have longed 
 to see you so much. When we heard you were 
 with Mrs. Lincoln, the people used to tell me 
 that I was foolish to think of ever seeing you 
 again that your head must be completely turned. 
 But I knew your heart, and could not believe that 
 you would forget us. I always argued that you 
 would come and see us some day." 
 
 
Behind the Scenes. 257 
 
 " You judged me rightly, Miss Ann. How 
 could I forget you whom I had grown up with 
 from infancy. Northern people used to tell me 
 that you would forget me, but I told them I knew 
 better, and hoped on." 
 
 " Ah ! love is too strong to be blown away like 
 gossamer threads. The chain is strong enough 
 to bind life even to the world beyond the grave. 
 Do you always feel kindly towards me, Lizzie ? " 
 
 " To tell you candidly, Miss Ann, I have but 
 one unkind thought, and that is, that you did 
 not give me the advantages of a good education. 
 "What I have learned has been the study of after 
 years." 
 
 " You are right. I did not look at things 
 then as I do now. I have always regretted that 
 you were not educated when a girl. But you 
 have not suffered much on this score, since you 
 get along in the world better than we who en 
 joyed every educational advantage in childhood." 
 
 I remained five weeks at Eude s Hill, and 
 
258 Behind ike Scenes. 
 
 they were five of the most delightful weeks of my 
 life. I designed going direct to Richmond, but 
 the cholera was reported to be raging in that city, 
 so I took the train for Baltimore. In Baltimore 
 I stopped with Mrs. Annette Jordan. Mrs. Gar 
 land had given me a letter to Mrs. Douglas Gor 
 don, who introduced me to several Baltimore 
 ladies, among others Mrs. Doctor Thomas, who 
 said to me, with tears in her eyes : " Lizzie, you 
 deserve to meet with success for having been so 
 kind to our friends in the days of the past. I 
 wish there were more women in the world like 
 you. I will always do what little I can to pro 
 mote your welfare." 
 
 After remaining in Baltimore a few days, I 
 came to the conclusion that I could do better in 
 "Washington ; so I returned to the capital, and re 
 opened my business. 
 
 In the spring of 1867, Miss Maggie Garland 
 paid a visit to Baltimore. Before leaving Vir 
 ginia she said to some of her friends in Lynch- 
 
Behind the Scenes. 259 
 
 burg that she designed going by Washington to 
 see Lizzie. Her friends ridiculed the idea, but 
 she persisted : 
 
 "I love Lizzie next to mother. She has been 
 a mother to us all. Half the pleasure of my 
 visit is that I will be able to see her." 
 
 She wrote me a letter, saying that she designed 
 visiting me, asking if it would be agreeable. I 
 replied, " Yes, come by all means. I shall be so 
 glad to see you." 
 
 She came and stayed at my rooms, and 
 expressed surprise to find me so comfortably 
 fixed. 
 
 I cannot do better than conclude this chapter 
 with two letters from my dear young friends, the 
 first from Mrs. General Meem, and the second 
 from Miss Maggie Garland. These letters show 
 the goodness of their hearts and the frankness of 
 their natures. I trust that they will not object 
 to the publicity that I give them : 
 
260 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 "RuDE sHiLL, Sept. 14, 1867. 
 
 " MY DEAK LIZZIE : I am nearly ashamed of 
 myself for neglecting to acknowledge the receipt 
 of your letter, and the very acceptable box of 
 patterns, some weeks ago ; but you will pardon 
 my remissness, I know, for you can imagine 
 what a busy time I ve had all summer, with a 
 house full of company most of the time, and with 
 very inefficient servants, and in some departments 
 none at all / so I have had to be at times dining- 
 room servant, house-maid, and the last and most 
 difficult, dairy-maid. But I have turned that 
 department over to our gardener, who, though as 
 green at the business as myself, seems willing to 
 learn, and has been doing the milking all sum 
 mer. These are afeio of the reasons why I have 
 not written to you before, for I hope you will 
 always believe that you occupy a large place in 
 my memory and affection, whether I write to you 
 or not ; and such a poor correspondent as your 
 self ought not to complain. Mother, Mag, Uncle 
 
Behind the Scenes. 201 
 
 John, and Spot are still with us ; the former will 
 pass the winter with me, but the others all talk 
 of leaving before long. The approach of winter 
 always scatters our guests, and we have to spend 
 the long, dreary winters alone. But we are to 
 have the railroad to Mt. Jackson by Christmas, 
 perhaps sooner ; and then, if we can raise the 
 wind, we can spend a portion of the winter in the 
 city, and I hope you will find time to come up 
 and spend the day with me, as we will be near 
 neighbors. I so seldom indulge in the pleasant 
 task of writing letters that I scarcely know what 
 will interest my correspondent, but I flatter my 
 self that you will be glad to hear anything and 
 everything about us all, so I ll begin with the 
 children. Hugh has improved a great deal, and 
 is acknowledged to be the smartest child and the 
 finest looking in the State ; he talks as plainly as 
 I do, and just as understandingly as a child of 
 ten years old ; his nurse often says we need not 
 set our hearts on that child, he is too smart ever 
 
262 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 to be raised ; but I trust his badness will save 
 him, for he is terribly spoilt, as such interesting 
 children are bound to be. Miss Eliza, no longer 
 called Jane, is getting to be a little star girl, 
 as her Papa calls^her; she is just learning to 
 walk, and says a good many words quite plainly. 
 You would never take her for the same little cry 
 baby of last summer, and she is a little beauty 
 too as white as the driven snow, with the most 
 beautiful blue eyes, and long, dark lashes you 
 ever saw. She will set somebody crazy if she 
 grows up to be as lovely as she now promises to 
 be. My dear good husband has been, like my 
 self, run to death this summer ; but it agrees with 
 him, and I never saw him looking better. He 
 has fallen off a little, which is a great improve 
 ment, I think. He often speaks of you, and 
 wonders if you were sufficiently pleased with 
 your visit last summer to repeat it. I hope so, 
 for we will always be glad to welcome you to 
 Kude s Hill, whenever you have time to come ; 
 
Behind the Scenes. 263 
 
 provided, of course, you have the wish also. Spot 
 expects to hang out his shingle in St. Louis next 
 winter. His health is greatly improved, though 
 he is still very thin, and very, very much like 
 dear father. Mag has promised to teach a little 
 cousin of ours, who lives in Nelson County, until 
 February, and will leave here in two weeks to 
 commence her labors. I hate to see her leave, 
 but she is bent on it, and our winters are so 
 unattractive that I do not like to insist on her 
 shutting herself up all winter with three old 
 people. She will have very pleasant society at 
 Cousin Buller s, and will perhaps spend the rest 
 of the winter with Aunt Pris, if Uncle Armis- 
 tead remains in Binghampton, New York, as he 
 talks of doing. Do write to me before you get 
 too busy with your fall and winter work ; I am so 
 anxious to hear all your plans, and about your 
 stay in New York. By the by, I will have to 
 direct this to Washington, as I do not know your 
 New York address. I suppose your friends will 
 
264 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 forward it. If you are going to remain any 
 length of time in New York, send me your 
 address, and I will write again. * 
 
 I have somehow made out a long letter, though 
 there is not much in it, and I hope you will do 
 the same before long. All send love. 
 " Yours affectionately, 
 
 "K K. G. MEEM. 
 
 " My pen and ink are both so wretched that 1 
 fear you will find some difficulty in making out this 
 scratch ; but put on your specks, and what you 
 can t read, just guess at. I enclose a very poor 
 likeness of Hugh taken last spring ; don t show it 
 to anybody, for I assure you there is scarcely the 
 faintest resemblance to him now in it. 
 
 "K E. G. M." 
 
 I give only a few extracts from the plea 
 sant letter from Miss Maggie Garland. The 
 reader will observe that she signs herself " Your 
 child, Mag," an expression of love warmly appre 
 ciated by me : 
 
Behind the Scenes. 265 
 
 "SEDDES, Dec. 17, 1867. 
 
 " So many months have passed, my dear Lizzie, 
 since I was cheered by a sight of your welcome 
 handwriting, that I must find out what is the 
 matter, and see if I can t persuade you to write 
 me a few lines. "Whatever comes, weal or woe, 
 you know I shall always love you, and I have 
 no idea of letting you forget me ; so just make up 
 your mind to write me a nice long letter, and tell 
 me what you are doing with yourself this cold 
 weather. I am buried in the wilds of Amherst, 
 and the cold, chilling blasts of December come 
 whistling around, and tell us plainly that the 
 reign of the snow-king has begun in good 
 earnest. Since October I have been teaching 
 for my cousin, Mr. Claiborne, and although I 
 am very happy, and every one is so kind to me, 
 I shall not be sorry when the day comes when I 
 shall shut up school-books forever. None of 
 Miss Ann s children were cut out for l school- 
 marms, were they, Yiddie ? I am sure I was only 
 
266 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 made to ride in my carriage, and play on the 
 piano. Don t you think so I -. * *,. * You 
 must write me where you are, so I can stop and 
 see you on my way North ; for you know, dear 
 Lizzie, no one can take your place in my heart. 
 I expect to spend the Christmas holidays in 
 Lynchburg. It will be very gay there, and I will 
 be glad enough to take a good dance. This is 
 a short letter to send you after such a long silence, 
 but tis too cold to write. Let me hear from you 
 very soon. 
 
 " Your child MAG. 
 " Please write, for I long to hear from you." 
 
CHAPTER XY. 
 
 THE SECRET HISTORY OF MRS. LINCOLN S WARDROBE 
 IN NEW YORK. 
 
 N" March, 1867, Mrs. Lincoln wrote 
 to me from Chicago that, as her in 
 come was insufficient to meet her 
 expenses, she would be obliged to 
 give up her house in the city, and return to 
 boarding. She said that she had struggled long 
 enough to keep up appearances, and that the 
 mask must be thrown aside. "I have not the 
 means," she wrote, " to meet the expenses of even 
 a first-class boarding-house, and must sell out and 
 secure cheap rooms at some place in the country. 
 
268 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 It will not be startling news to you, my dear 
 Lizzie, to learn that I must sell a portion of my 
 wardrobe to add to my resources, so as to enable 
 me to live decently, for you remember what I 
 told you in "Washington, as well as what you 
 understood before you left me here in Chicago. 
 I cannot live on $1,700 a year, and as I have 
 many costly things which. I shall never wear, 
 I might as well turn them into money, and 
 thus add to my income, and make my circum 
 stances easier. It is humiliating to be placed in 
 such a position, but, as I am in the position, I 
 must extricate myself as best I can. Now, Lizzie, 
 I want to ask a favor of you. It is imperative 
 that I should do something for my relief, and 
 I want you to meet me in New York, between 
 the 30th of August and the 5th of September 
 next, to assist me in disposing of a portion of 
 my wardrobe." 
 
 I knew that Mrs. Lincoln s income was small, 
 and also knew that she had many valuable 
 
Behind tlie, Scenes. 269 
 
 dresses, which could be of no value to her, 
 packed away in boxes and trunks. I was confi 
 dent that she would never wear the dresses again, 
 and thought that, since her need was urgent, it 
 would be well enough to dispose of them quietly, 
 and believed that New York was the best place 
 to transact a delicate business of the kind. She 
 was the wife of Abraham Lincoln, the man who 
 had done so much for my race, and I could refuse 
 to do nothing for her, calculated to advance her 
 interests. I consented to render Mrs. Lincoln all 
 the assistance in my power, and many letters 
 passed between us in regard to the best way to 
 proceed. It was finally arranged that I should 
 
 meet her in New York about the middle of Sep- 
 
 \ 
 tember. While thinking over this question, I 
 
 remembered an incident of the White House. 
 When we were packing up to leave Washington 
 for Chicago, she said to me, one morning : 
 
 " Lizzie, I may see the day when I shall be 
 obliged to sell a portion of my wardrobe. If 
 
2 TO Behind the Scenes. 
 
 Congress does not do something for me, then my 
 dresses some day may have to go to bring food 
 into my mouth, and the mouths of my children." 
 
 I also remembered of Mrs. L. having said to 
 me at different times, in the years of 1863 and 
 4, that her expensive dresses might prove of 
 great assistance to her some day. 
 
 " In what way, Mrs. Lincoln ? I do not un 
 derstand," I ejaculated, the first time she made 
 the remark to me. - 
 
 " Very simple to understand. Mr. Lincoln is 
 so generous that he will not save anything from 
 his salary, and I expect that we will leave the 
 White House poorer than when we came into it ; 
 and should such be the case, I will have no fur 
 ther need for an expensive wardrobe, and it will 
 be policy to sell it off." 
 
 I thought at the time that Mrs. Lincoln was 
 borrowing trouble from the future, and little 
 dreamed that the event which she so dimly fore 
 shadowed would ever come to pass. 
 
Behind the Scenes. 271 
 
 I closed my business about the 10th of Sep 
 tember, and made every arrangement to leave 
 Washington on the mission proposed. On the 
 15th of September I received a letter from Mrs. 
 Lincoln, post-marked Chicago, saying that she 
 should leave the city so as to reach New York 
 on the night of the 17th, and directing me to 
 precede her to the metropolis, and secure rooms 
 for her at the St. Denis Hotel in the name of 
 Mrs. Clarke, as her visit was to be incog. The 
 contents of the letter were startling to me. I 
 had never heard of the St. Denis, and therefore 
 presumed that it could not be a first-class house. 
 And I could not understand why Mrs. Lincoln 
 should travel, without protection, under an 
 assumed name. I knew that it would be impos 
 sible for me to engage rooms at a strange hotel 
 for a person whom the proprietors knew nothing 
 about. I could not write to Mrs. Lincoln, since 
 she would be on the road to New York before a 
 letter could possibly reach Chicago. I could not 
 
272 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 telegraph her, for the business was of too delicate 
 a character to be trusted to the wires that would 
 whisper the secret to every curious operator 
 along, the line. In my embarrassment, I caught 
 at a slender thread of hope, and tried to derive 
 consolation from it. I knew Mrs. Lincoln to be 
 indecisive about some things, and I hoped that she 
 might change her mind in regard to the strange 
 programme proposed, and at the last moment 
 despatch me to this effect. The 16th, and then 
 the 17th of September passed, and no despatch 
 reached me, so on the 18th I made all haste to 
 take the train for New York. After an anxious 
 ride, I reached the city in the evening, and when 
 I stood alone in the streets of the great metropo 
 lis, my heart sank within me. I was in an 
 embarrassing situation, and scarcely knew how 
 to act. I did not know where the St. Denis 
 Hotel was, and was not certain that I should 
 find Mrs. Lincoln there after I should go to it. 
 I walked up to Broadway, and got into a stage 
 
Behind the Scenes. 273 
 
 going up town, with the intention of keeping a 
 close look-out for the hotel in question. A kind- 
 looking gentleman occupied the seat next to me, 
 and I ventured to inquire of him : 
 
 "If you please, sir, can you tell me where the 
 St. Denis Hotel is?" 
 
 "Yes; we ride past it in the stage. I will 
 point it out to you when we come to it." 
 
 "Thank you, sir." 
 
 The stage rattled up the street, and after a 
 while the gentleman looked out of the window 
 and said : 
 
 " This is the St. Denis. Do you wish to get 
 out here ? " 
 
 " Thank you. Yes, sir." 
 
 He pulled the strap, and the next minute I was 
 standing on the pavenent. I pulled a bell at the 
 ladies entrance to the hotel, and a boy coming to 
 the door, I asked : 
 
 " Is a lady by the name of Mrs. Clarke stop 
 ping here ? She came last night, I believe." 
 12* 
 
274: Behind the Scenes. 
 
 " I do not know. I will ask at the office ;" and 
 I w r as left alone. 
 
 The boy came back and said : 
 
 " Yes, Mrs. Clarke is here. Do you want to 
 see her ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 "Well, just walk round there. She is down 
 here now." 
 
 I did not know where " round there " exactly 
 was, but I concluded to go forward. 
 
 I stopped, however, thinking that the lady 
 might be in the parlor with company ; and pulling 
 out a card, asked the boy to take it to her. She 
 heard me talking, and came into the hall to see 
 herself. 
 
 " My dear Lizzie, I am so glad to see you," she 
 exclaimed, corning forward and giving me her 
 hand. "I have just received your note" Iliad 
 written her that I should join her on the 18th 
 " and have been trying to get a room for you. 
 Your note has been here all day, but it was never 
 
Behind the Scenes. 275 
 
 delivered until to-night. Come in here, until I 
 find out about your room ; " and she led me into 
 the office. 
 
 The clerk, like all modern hotel clerks, was 
 exquisitely arrayed, highly perfumed, and too 
 self-important to be obliging, or even courteous. 
 
 " This is the woman I told you about. I want 
 a good room for her," Mrs. Lincoln said to the 
 clerk. 
 
 " We have no room for her, madam," was the 
 pointed rejoinder. 
 
 " But she must have a room. She is a friend of 
 mine, and I want a room for her adjoining mine." 
 
 " We have no room for her on your floor." 
 
 " That is strange, sir. I tell you that she is 
 a friend of mine, and I am sure you could not 
 give a room to a more worthy person." 
 
 " Friend of yours, or not, I tell you we have 
 no room for her on your floor. I can find a 
 place for her on the fifth floor." 
 
 " That, sir, I presume, will be a vast improve- 
 
276 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 ment on my room. "Well, if she goes to the fifth 
 floor, I shall go too, sir. What is good enough 
 for her is good enough for me." 
 
 " Very well, madam. Shall I give you adjoin 
 ing rooms, and send your baggage up ? " 
 
 " Yes, and have it done in a hurry. Let the 
 boy show us up. Come, Elizabeth," and Mrs. 
 L. turned from the clerk with a haughty glance, 
 and we commenced climbing the stairs. I thought 
 we should never reach the top; and when we 
 did reach the fifth story, what accommodations ! 
 Little three-cornered rooms, scantily furnished. 
 I never expected to see the widow of President 
 Lincoln in such dingy, humble quarters. 
 
 " How provoking ! " Mrs. Lincoln exclaimed, 
 sitting down on a chair when we had reached 
 the top, and panting from the effects of the 
 climbing. " I declare, I never saw such unac 
 commodating people. Just to think of them 
 sticking us away up here in the attic. I will 
 give them a regular going over in the morning." 
 
Behind the Scenes. 277 
 
 "But you forget. They do not know you. 
 Mrs. Lincoln would be treated differently from 
 Mrs. Clarke." 
 
 " True, I do forget. Well, I suppose I shall 
 have to put up with the annoyances. Why did 
 you not come to me yesterday, Lizzie ? I was 
 almost crazy when I reached here last night, and 
 found you had not arrived. I sat down and 
 wrote you a note I felt so badly imploring you 
 to come to me immediately." 
 
 This note was afterwards sent to me from 
 Washington. It reads as follows : 
 
 " ST. DENIS HOTEL, BROADWAY, N. Y. 
 "Wednesday, Sept. 17th. 
 
 "My DEAR LIZZIE : I arrived here last even 
 ing in utter despair at not finding you. I am 
 frightened to death, being here alone. Come, I 
 pray you, by next train. Inquire for 
 
 "MRS. CLARKE, 
 " Room 94, $th or 6th Story. 
 
278 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 " House so crowded could not get another 
 spot. I wrote you especially to meet me here 
 last evening ; it makes me wild to think of being 
 here alone. Come by next train, without fail. 
 " Your friend, 
 
 " MBS. LINCOLN. 
 
 " I am booked Mrs. Clarke ; inquire for no 
 other person. Come, come, come. I will pay your 
 expenses when you arrive here. I shall not leave 
 here or change my room until you come. 
 
 " Your friend, M. L. 
 
 " Do not leave this house without seeing me. 
 
 " Come ! " 
 
 I transcribe the letter literally. 
 
 In reply to Mrs. Lincoln s last question, I ex 
 plained what has already been explained to the 
 reader, that I was in hope she would change her 
 mind, and knew that it would be impossible to 
 secure the rooms requested for a person unknown 
 to the proprietors or attache s of the hotel. 
 
Behind the Scenes. 279 
 
 The explanation seemed to satisfy her. Turn 
 ing to me suddenly, she exclaimed : 
 
 " You have not had your dinner, Lizzie, and 
 must be hungry. I nearly forgot about it in the 
 joy of seeing you. You must go down to the 
 table right away." 
 
 She pulled the bell-rope, and a servant appearing, 
 she ordered him to give me my dinner. I followed 
 him down-stairs, and he led me into the dining- 
 hall, and seated me at a table in one corner of the 
 room. I was giving my order, when the steward 
 came forward and gruffly said : 
 
 " You are in the wrong room." 
 
 "I was brought here by the waiter," I re 
 plied. 
 
 " It makes no difference ; I will find you an 
 other place where you can eat your dinner." 
 
 I got up from the table and followed him, and 
 when outside of the door, said to him : 
 
 "It is very strange that you should permit me 
 to be seated at the table in the dining-room only 
 
280 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 for the sake of ordering me to leave it the next 
 moment." 
 
 " Are you not Mrs. Clarke s servant ? " was his 
 abrupt question. 
 
 " I am with Mrs. Clarke." 
 
 " It is all the same ; servants are not allowed to 
 eat in the large dining-room. Here, this way; 
 you must take your dinner in the servants hall." 
 
 Hungry and humiliated as I was, I was willing 
 to follow to any place to get my dinner, for I had 
 been riding all day, and had not tasted a mouthful 
 since early morning. 
 
 On reaching the servants hall we found the 
 door of the room locked. The waiter left me 
 standing in the passage while he went to inform 
 the clerk of the fact. 
 
 In a few minutes the obsequious clerk came 
 blustering down the hall : 
 
 " Did you come out of the street, or from Mrs. 
 Clarke s room ? " 
 
 " From Mrs. Clarke s room," I meekly answer 
 
Behind the Scenes. 281 
 
 ed. My gentle words seemed to quiet him, and 
 then lie explained : 
 
 " It is after the regular hour for dinner. The 
 room is locked up, and ^nnie has gone out with 
 the key." 
 
 My pride would not let me stand longer in the 
 hall. 
 
 " Yery well," I remarked, as I began climbing 
 the stairs, " I will tell Mrs. Clarke that I cannot 
 get any dinner." 
 
 He looked after me, with a scowl on his face : 
 
 " You need not put on airs 1 I understand the 
 whole thing." 
 
 I said nothing, but continued to climb the 
 stairs, thinking to myself: "Well, if you under 
 stand the whole thing, it is strange that you 
 should put the widow of ex-President Abraham 
 Lincoln in a three-cornered room in the attic of 
 this miserable hotel." 
 
 When I reached Mrs. Lincoln s rooms, tears of 
 humiliation and vexation were in my eyes. 
 
282 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 " What is the matter, Lizzie ? " she asked. 
 
 u I cannot get any dinner." 
 
 " Cannot get any dinner ! What do you 
 mean ? " 
 
 I then told her of all that had transpired below. 
 
 " The insolent, overbearing people ! " she fierce 
 ly exclaimed. " Never mind, Lizzie, you shall 
 have your dinner. Put on your bonnet and 
 shawl." 
 
 " What for?" 
 
 "What for! Why, we will go out of the 
 hotel, and get you something to eat where they 
 know how to behave decently ; " and Mrs. Lin 
 coln already was tying the strings of her bonnet 
 before the glass. 
 
 Her impulsiveness alarmed me. 
 
 " Surely, Mrs. Lincoln, you do not intend to 
 go out on the street to-night ? " 
 
 u Yes I do. Do you suppose I am going to 
 have you starve, when we can find something to 
 eat on every corner ? " 
 
Behind the Scenes. 283 
 
 " But yon forget. You are liere as Mrs. Clarke 
 and not as Mrs. Lincoln. You came alone, and 
 the people already suspect that everything is not 
 right. If you go outside of the hotel to-night, 
 they will accept the fact as evidence against 
 you." 
 
 " Nonsense ; what do you suppose I care for 
 what these low-bred people think ? Put on your 
 things." 
 
 " No, Mrs. Lincoln, I shall not go outside of 
 the hotel to-night, for I realize your situation, if 
 you do not. Mrs. Lincoln has no reason to care 
 what these people may say about her as Mrs. 
 Lincoln, but she should be prudent, and give them 
 no opportunity to say anything about her as Mrs. 
 Clarke." 
 
 It was with difficulty I could convince her that 
 she should act with caution. She was so frank 
 and impulsive that she never once thought that 
 her actions might be misconstrued. It did not 
 occur to her that she might order dinner to be 
 
284: Behind the Scenes. 
 
 served in my room, so I went to bed without a 
 mouthful to eat. 
 
 The next morning Mrs. Lincoln knocked at my 
 door before six o clock : 
 
 " Come, Elizabeth, get up, I know you must 
 be hungry. Dress yourself quickly and we will 
 go out and get some breakfast. I was unable to 
 sleep last night for thinking of you being forced to 
 go to bed without anything to eat." 
 
 I dressed myself as quickly as I could, and to 
 gether we went out and took breakfast, at a res 
 taurant on Broadway, some place between 609 
 and the St. Denis Hotel. I do not give the num 
 ber, as I prefer leaving it to conjecture. Of one 
 thing I am certain the proprietor of the res 
 taurant little dreamed who one of his guests 
 was that morning. 
 
 After breakfast we walked up Broadway, and 
 entering Union Square Park, took a seat on one 
 of the benches under the trees, watched the 
 children at play, and talked over the situation. 
 
Behind tJie Scenes. 285 
 
 Mrs. Lincoln told me : " Lizzie, yesterday morn 
 ing I called for the Herald at the breakfast table, 
 and on looking over the list of diamond brokers 
 advertised, I selected the firm of "W. H. Bra 
 dy & Co., 609 Broadway. After breakfast I 
 walked down to the house, and tried to sell them 
 a lot of jewelry. I gave my name as Mrs. Clarke. 
 I first saw Mr. Judd, a member of the firm, a 
 very pleasant gentleman. We were unable to 
 agree about the price. He went back into the 
 office, where a stout gentleman was seated at the 
 desk, but I could not hear what he said. [I know 
 now what was said, and so shall the reader, in pa 
 rentheses. Mr. Brady has since told me that 
 he remarked to Mr. Judd that the woman must 
 be crazy to ask such outrageous prices, and to get 
 rid of her as soon as possible.] Soon after Mr. 
 Judd came back to the counter, another gentle 
 man, Mr. Keyes, as I have since learned, a silent 
 partner in the house, entered the store. He came 
 to the counter, and in looking over my jewelry 
 
286 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 discovered my name inside of one of the rings. 
 I had forgotten the ring, and when I saw him 
 looking at the name so earnestly, I snatched the 
 bauble from him and put it into my pocket. I 
 hastily gathered up my jewelry, and started out. 
 They asked for my address, and I left my card, 
 Mrs. Clarke, at the St. Denis Hotel. They are 
 to call to see me this forenoon, when I shall enter 
 into negotiations with them." 
 
 Scarcely had we returned to the hotel when 
 Mr. Keyes called, and Mrs. Clarke disclosed to 
 him that she was Mrs. Lincoln. He was much 
 elated to find his surmise correct. Mrs. L. exhib 
 ited to him a large number of shawls, dresses, and 
 fine laces, and told him that she was compelled 
 to sell them in order to live. He was an earnest 
 Eepublican, was much affected by her story, and 
 denounced the ingratitude of the government in 
 the severest terms. She complained to him of the 
 treatment she had received at the St. Denis, and 
 he advised her to move to another hotel forthwith. 
 
Behind the Scenes. 287 
 
 She readily consented, and as she wanted to be in 
 an out-of-the-way place where she would not be 
 recognized by any of her old friends, he recom 
 mended the Earle Hotel in Canal street. 
 
 On the way down to the hotel that morning 
 she acceded to a suggestion made by me, and 
 supported by Mr. Keyes, that she confide in the 
 landlord, and give him her name without register 
 ing, so as to ensure the proper respect. Unfor 
 tunately, the Earle Hotel was full, and we had to 
 select another place. We drove to the Union 
 Place Hotel, where we secured rooms for Mrs. 
 Clarke, Mrs. Lincoln changing her mind, deem 
 ing it would not be prudent to disclose her real 
 name to any one. After we had become settled 
 in our new quarters, Messrs. Keyes and Brady 
 called frequently on Mrs. Lincoln, and held long 
 conferences with her. They advised her to pursue 
 the course she did, and were sanguine of success. 
 Mrs. Lincoln was very anxious to dispose of her 
 tilings, and return to Chicago as quickly and 
 
288 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 quietly as possible ; but they presented the case in 
 a different light, and, I regret to say, she was 
 guided by their counsel. " Pooh," said Mr. 
 Brady, " place your affairs in our hands, and we 
 will raise you at least $100,000 in a few weeks. 
 The people will not permit the widow of Abraham 
 Lincoln to suffer ; they will come to her rescue 
 when they know she is in want." 
 
 The argument seemed plausible, and Mrs. Lin 
 coln quietly acceded to the proposals of Keyes 
 and Brady. 
 
 "We remained quietly at the Union Place Hotel 
 for a few days. On Sunday Mrs. Lincoln accept 
 ed the use of a private carriage, and accompanied 
 by me, she drove out to Central Park. "We did 
 not enjoy the ride much, as the carriage was a 
 close one, and we could not throw open the win 
 dow for fear of being recognized by some one of 
 the many thousands in the Park. Mrs. Lincoln 
 wore a heavy veil so as to more effectually conceal 
 her face. We came near being run into, and we 
 
Behind the Scenes. 289 
 
 had a spasm of alarm, for an accident would have 
 exposed us to public gaze, and of course the mas 
 querade would have been at an end. On Tues 
 day I hunted up a number of dealers in second 
 hand clothing, and had them call at the hotel 
 by appointment. Mrs. Lincoln soon discover 
 ed that they were hard people to drive a bargain 
 with, so on Thursday we got into a close car 
 riage, taking a bundle of dresses and shawls with 
 us, and drove to a number of stores on Seventh 
 Avenue, where an attempt was made to dispose 
 of a portion of the wardrobe. The dealers wanted 
 the goods for little or nothing, and we found it a 
 hard matter to drive a bargain with them. Mrs. 
 Lincoln met the dealers squarely, but all of her 
 tact and shrewdness failed to accomplish much. 
 I do not care to dwell upon this portion of my 
 story. Let it answer to say, that we returned to 
 the hotel more disgusted than ever with the busi 
 ness in which we were engaged. There was much 
 
 curiosity at the hotel in relation to us, as our 
 13 
 
290 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 movements were watched, and we were regarded 
 with suspicion. Our trunks in the main hall 
 below were examined daily, and curiosity was 
 more keenly excited when the argus-eyed report 
 ers for the press traced Mrs. Lincoln s name on 
 the cover of one of her trunks. The letters had 
 been rubbed out, but the faint outlines remained, 
 and these outlines only served to stimulate curi 
 osity. Messrs. Keyes and Brady called often, 
 and they made Mrs. Lincoln believe that, if she 
 would write certain letters for them to show to 
 prominent politicians, they could raise a large 
 sum of money for her. They argued that the 
 Republican party would never permit it to be 
 said that the wife of Abraham Lincoln was in 
 want ; that the leaders of the party would make 
 heavy advances rather than have it published to 
 the world that Mrs. Lincoln s poverty compelled 
 her to sell her wardrobe. Mrs. L. s wants were 
 urgent, as she had to borrow $600 from .Keyes 
 and Brady, and she was willing to adopt any 
 
Behind the Scenes. 291 
 
 scheme which promised to place a good bank ac 
 count to her credit. At different times in her 
 room at the Union Place Hotel she wrote the 
 following letters: 
 
 "CHICAGO, Sept. 18, 1867. 
 " MR. BRADY, Commission Broker, No. 609 
 
 Broadway, New York : 
 
 "I have this day sent to you personal pro 
 perty, which I am compelled to part with, and 
 which you will find of considerable value. The 
 articles consist of four camels hair shawls, one 
 lace dress and shawl, a parasol cover, a diamond 
 ring, two dress patterns, some furs, etc. 
 
 " Please have them appraised, and confer by 
 letter with me. Yery respectfully, 
 
 "MRS. LINCOLN." 
 
 " CHICAGO, 
 
 " MR. BRADY, No. 609 Broadway, N. Y. City : 
 
 * * * DEAR SIR : The articles 
 
 I am sending you to dispose of were gifts of dear 
 
292 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 friends, which only urgent necessity compels me 
 to part with, and I am especially anxious that 
 they shall not be sacrificed. 
 
 " The circumstances are peculiar, and painfully 
 embarrassing; therefore I hope you will endea 
 vor to realize as much as possible for them. 
 Hoping to hear from you, I remain, very respect- 
 fully, 
 
 "MRS. A. LINCOLN." 
 
 "Sept. 25, 1867. 
 
 ""W. H. BEADY, ESQ. : My great, great sor 
 row and loss have made me painfully sensi 
 tive, but as my feelings and pecuniary comforts 
 were never regarded or even recognized in the 
 midst of my overwhelming bereavement now 
 that I am pressed in a most startling manner for 
 means of subsistence, I do not know why I 
 should shrink from an opportunity of improving 
 my trying position. 
 
 " Being assured that all you do will be appro- 
 
Behind the Scenes. 293 
 
 priately executed, and in a manner that will not 
 startle me very greatly, and excite as little com 
 ment as possible, again I shall leave all in your 
 hands. 
 
 " I am passing through a very painful ordeal, 
 which the country, in remembrance of my noble 
 and devoted husband, should have spared me. 
 
 " I remain, with great respect, very truly, 
 
 " MBS. LINCOLN. 
 
 "P. S. As you mention that my goods have 
 been valued at over $24,000, I will be willing to 
 make a reduction of $8,000, and relinquish them 
 for $16,000. If this is not accomplished, I will 
 continue to sell and -advertise largely until every 
 article is sold. 
 
 " I must have means to live, at least in a 
 medium comfortable state. 
 
 "M. L." 
 
 The letters are dated Chicago, and addressed 
 to Mr. Brady, though every one of them was 
 
294: Behind the Scenes. 
 
 written in New York ; for when Mrs. L. left 
 the West for the East, she had settled upon no 
 definite plan of action. Mr. Brady proposed 
 to show the letters to certain politicians, and ask 
 for money on a threat to publish them if his de 
 mands, as Mrs. Lincoln s agent, were not com 
 plied with. When writing the letters I stood at 
 Mrs. Lincoln s elbow, and suggested that they 
 be couched in the mildest language possible. 
 
 " Never mind, Lizzie," she said ; " anything to 
 raise the wind. One might as well be killed for 
 a sheep as a lamb." 
 
 This latter expression was a favorite one of 
 hers ; she meaning by it, that if one must be 
 punished for an act, such as theft for instance, 
 that the punishment would be no more severe if 
 a sheep were taken instead of a lamb. 
 
 Mr. Brady exhibited the letters quite freely, 
 but the parties to whom they were shown refused 
 to make any advances. Meanwhile our stay at 
 the Union Place Hotel excited so much curiosity, 
 
Behind the Scenes. 295 
 
 that a sudden movement was rendered expedient 
 to avoid discovery. We sent the large trunks 
 to 609 Broadway, packed the smaller ones, paid 
 our bills at the hotel, and one morning hastily 
 departed for the country, where we remained 
 three days. The movement was successful. The 
 keen-eyed reporters for the daily papers were 
 thrown oif the scent, and when we returned to 
 the city we took rooms at the Brandreth House, 
 where Mrs. Lincoln registered as " Mrs. Morris." 
 I had desired her to go to the Metropolitan Ho 
 tel, and confide in the proprietors, as the Messrs. 
 Leland had always been very kind to her, treat 
 ing her with distinguished courtesy whenever 
 she was their guest ; but this she refused to do. 
 
 Several days passed, and Messrs. Brady and 
 Keyes were forced to acknowledge that their 
 scheme was a failure. The letters had been 
 shown to various parties, but every one declined 
 to act. Aside from a few dresses sold at small 
 prices to second-hand dealers, Mrs. Lincoln s 
 
296 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 wardrobe was still in her possession. Her visit 
 to JSTew York had proved disastrous, and she was 
 goaded into more desperate measures. Money 
 she must have, and to obtain it she proposed to 
 play a bolder game. She gave Mr. Brady per 
 mission to place her wardrobe on exhibition for 
 sale, and authorized him to publish the letters in 
 the World. 
 
 After coming to this determination, she packed 
 her trunks to return to Chicago. I accompanied 
 her to the depot, and told her good-by, on the 
 very morning that the letters appeared in the 
 World. Mrs. Lincoln wrote me the incidents of 
 the journey, and the letter describes the story 
 more graphically than I could hope to do. I 
 suppress many passages, as they are of too confi 
 dential a nature to be given to the public : 
 
 " CHICAGO, October 6th. 
 
 " MY DEAJR LIZZIE : My ink is like myself and 
 my spirits failing, so I write you to-day with a 
 
Behind the Scenes. 297 
 
 pencil. I had a solitary ride to this place, as you 
 may imagine, varied by one or two amusing inci 
 dents. I found, after you left me, I could not con 
 tinue in the car in which you left me, owing to 
 every seat s berth being engaged ; so, being simple 
 Mrs. Clarke, I had to eat humble-pie in a car 
 less commodious. My thoughts were too much 
 with my dry goods and interests at 609 Broad 
 way, to care much for my surroundings, as un 
 comfortable as they were. In front of me sat 
 a middle-aged, gray-haired, respectable-looking 
 gentleman, who, for the whole morning, had the 
 page of the World before him which contained 
 my letters and business concerns. About four 
 hours before arriving at Chicago, a consequential- 
 looking man, of formidable size, seated himself 
 by him, and it appears they were entirely un 
 known to each other. The well-fed looking in 
 dividual opened the conversation with the man 
 who- had read the World so attentively, and the 
 
 conversation soon grew warm and earnest. The 
 13* 
 
298 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 war and its devastation engaged them. The 
 bluffy individual, doubtless a Republican who had 
 pocketed his many thousands, spoke of the widows 
 of the land, made so by the war. My reading 
 man remarked to him : 
 
 " Are you aware that Mrs. Lincoln is in in 
 digent circumstances, and has to sell her clothing 
 and jewelry to gain means to make life more en 
 durable? 
 
 " The well-conditioned man replied : ( I do not 
 blame her for selling her clothing, if she wishes it. 
 I suppose when sold she will convert the proceeds 
 into five-twenties to enable her to have means to 
 be buried. 
 
 " The World man turned towards him with a 
 searching glance, and replied, with the haughtiest 
 manner : That woman is not dead yet. 
 
 " The discomfited individual looked down, never 
 spoke another word, and in half an hour left his 
 seat, and did not return. 
 
 " I give you word for word as the conversation 
 
Behind the Scenes. 299 
 
 occurred. May it be found through the execu 
 tion of my friends, Messrs Brady and Keyes, that 
 that woman is not yet dead, and being alive, 
 she speaketh and gaineth valuable hearers. Such 
 is life ! Those who have been injured, how gladly 
 the injurer would consign them to mother earth 
 and forgetfulness ! Hoping I should not be re 
 cognized at Fort Wayne, I thought I would get 
 out at dinner for a cup of tea. * * * will 
 show you what a creature of fate I am, as miser 
 able as it sometimes is. I went into the dining- 
 room alone, and was ushered up to the table, 
 where, at its head, sat a very elegant-looking 
 gentleman at his side a middle-aged lady. My 
 black veil was doubled over my face. I had 
 taken my seat next to him he at the head of the 
 table, I at his left hand. I immediately/*^ 
 a pair of eyes was gazing at me. I looked 
 him full in the face, and the glance was earnestly 
 returned. I sipped my water, and said : Mr. S., 
 is this indeed you ? His face was as pale as the 
 
300 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 table-cloth. We entered into conversation, when 
 I asked him how long since he had left Chicago. 
 He replied, Two weeks since. He said, How 
 strange you should be on the train and I not 
 know it ! 
 
 " As soon as I could escape from the table, I did 
 so by saying, I must secure a cup of tea for a 
 lady friend with me who has a head-ache. I 
 had scarcely returned to the car, when he entered 
 it with a cup of tea borne by his own aristocratic 
 hands. I was a good deal annoyed by seeing 
 him, and he was so agitated that he spilled half 
 of the cup over my elegantly gloved hands. He 
 looked very sad, and I fancied 609 Broadway 
 occupied his thoughts. I apologized for the ab 
 sent lady who wished the cup, by saying that 
 * in my absence she had slipped out for it. His 
 heart was in his eyes, notwithstanding my veiled 
 face. Pity for me, I fear, has something to do 
 with all this. I never saw his manner so gentle 
 and sad. This was nearly evening, and I did not 
 
Behind the Scenes. 301 
 
 see him again, as he returned to the lady, who 
 was his sister-in-law from the East. * 
 What evil spirit possessed me to go out and get 
 that cup of tea ? When he left me, woman-like 
 I tossed the cup of tea out of the window, and 
 tucked my head down and shed hitter tears. 
 At the depot my darling little Taddie was wait 
 ing for me, and his voice never sounded so sweet. 
 * # # ^y dear ;Li zz i e? do visit Mr. Brady 
 each morning at nine o clock, and urge them all 
 you can. I see by the papers Stewart has re 
 turned. To-morrow I will send the invoice of 
 goods, which please to not give up. How much 
 I miss you, tongue cannot tell. Forget my fright 
 and nervousness of the evening before. Of 
 course you were as innocent as a child in all you 
 did. I consider you my best living friend, and 
 I am struggling to be enabled some day to re 
 pay you. Write me often, as you promised. 
 " Always truly yours, 
 "M. L." 
 
302 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 It is not necessary for me to dwell upon the 
 public history of Mrs. Lincoln s unfortunate 
 venture. The question has been discussed in all 
 the newspapers of the land, and these discussions 
 are so recent that it would be useless to intro 
 duce them in these pages, even if I had an incli 
 nation to do so. The following, from the New 
 York Evening Express, briefly tells the story : 
 
 " The attraction for ladies, and the curious and 
 speculative of the other sex in this city, just now, 
 is the grand exposition of Lincoln dresses at the 
 office of Mr. Brady, on Broadway, a few doors 
 south of Houston street. The publicity given to 
 the articles on exhibition and for sale has excited 
 the public curiosity, and hundreds of people, 
 principally women with considerable leisure 
 moments at disposal, daily throng the rooms 
 of Mr. Brady, and give himself and his shop- 
 woman more to do than either bargained for, 
 when a lady, with face concealed with a veil, 
 called and arranged for the sale of the supera- 
 
Behind the Scenes. 303 
 
 bundant clothing of a distinguished and titled, 
 but nameless lady. Twenty-five dresses, folded 
 or tossed about by frequent examinations, lie ex 
 posed iipon a closed piano, and upon a lounge ; 
 shawls rich and rare are displayed upon the 
 backs of chairs, but the more exacting obtain a 
 better view and closer inspection by the lady 
 attendant throwing them occasionally upon her 
 shoulders, just to oblige, so that their appearance 
 on promenade might be seen and admired. 
 Furs, laces, and jewelry are in a glass case, but 
 the four thousand dollars in gold point outfit 
 is kept in a paste-board box, and only shown on 
 special request. 
 
 " The feeling of the majority of visitors is ad 
 verse to the course Mrs. Lincoln has thought 
 proper to pursue, and the criticisms are as severe 
 as the cavillings are persistent at the quality of 
 some of the dresses. These latter are labelled at 
 Mrs. Lincoln s own estimate, and prices range 
 from $25 to $75 about 50 per cent, less than 
 
304: Behind the Scenes. 
 
 cost. Some of them, if not worn long, have been, 
 worn much ; they are jagged under the arms and 
 at the bottom of the skirt, stains are on the 
 lining, and other objections present themselves 
 to those who oscillate between the dresses and 
 dollars, i notwithstanding they have been worn 
 by Madam Lincoln, as a lady who looked from 
 behind a pair of gold spectacles remarked. 
 Other dresses, however, have scarcely been worn 
 one, perhaps, while Mrs. Lincoln sat for her 
 picture, and from one the basting threads had 
 not yet been removed. The general testimony 
 is that the wearing apparel is high-priced, and 
 some of the examiners say that the cost-figures 
 must have been put on by the dress-makers ; or, 
 if such was not the case, that gold was 250 when 
 they were purchased, and is now but 140 so that 
 a dress for which $150 was paid at the rate of 
 high figures cannot be called cheap at half that 
 sum, after it has been worn considerable, and per 
 haps passed out of fashion. The peculiarity of 
 
Behind the Scenes. 305 
 
 the dresses is that the most of them are cut low- 
 necked a taste which some ladies attribute to 
 Mrs. Lincoln s appreciation of her own bust. 
 
 " On Saturday last an offer was made for all 
 the dresses. The figure named was less than the 
 aggregate estimate placed on them. Mr. Brady, 
 however, having no discretionary power, he de 
 clined to close the bargain, but notified Mrs. 
 Lincoln by mail. Of course, as yet, no reply has 
 been received. Mrs L. desires that the auction 
 should be deferred till the 31st of the present 
 month, and efforts made to dispose of the articles 
 at private sale up to that time. 
 
 " A Mrs. C called on Mr. Brady this morn 
 ing, and examined minutely each shawl. Before 
 leaving the lady said that, at the time when there 
 was a hesitancy about the President issuing the 
 Emancipation Proclamation, she sent to Mrs. 
 Lincoln an ashes-of-rose shawl, which was manu 
 factured in China, forwarded to France, and 
 thence to Mrs. C , in New York. The 
 
306 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 shawl, the lady remarked, was a very handsome 
 one, and should it come into the hands of Mr. 
 Brady to be sold, would like to be made aware 
 of the fact, so as to obtain possession again. Mr. 
 Brady promised to acquaint the ashes-of-rose 
 donor, if the prized article should be among 
 the two trunks of goods now on the way from 
 Chicago." 
 
 So many erroneous reports were circulated, that 
 I made a correct statement to one of the editors 
 of the New York Evening News. The article 
 based upon- the memoranda furnished by me ap 
 peared in the News of Oct. 12, 186T. I repro 
 duce a portion of it in this connection : 
 
 " Mrs. Lincoln feels sorely aggrieved at many of 
 the harsh criticisms that have been passed upon 
 her for travelling incognito. She claims that she 
 adopted this course from motives of delicacy, 
 desiring to avoid publicity. While here, she 
 spoke to but two former acquaintances, and these 
 two gentlemen whom she met on Broadway. 
 
Behind the Scenes. 307 
 
 Hundreds passed her who had courted her good 
 graces when she reigned supreme at the White 
 House, but there was no recognition. It was not 
 because she had changed much in personal ap 
 pearance, but was merely owing to the heavy 
 crape veil that hid her features from view. 
 
 " She seeks to defend her course while in this 
 city and with much force, too. Adverting to 
 the fact that the Empress of France frequently 
 disposes of her cast-off wardrobe, and publicly 
 too, without being subjected to any unkind re 
 marks regarding its propriety, she claims the 
 same immunity here as is accorded in Paris to 
 Eugenie. As regards her obscurity while in this 
 city, she says that foreigners of note and position 
 frequently come to our stores, and under assumed 
 names travel from point to point throughout our 
 vast domain, to avoid recognition and the incon 
 veniences resulting from being known, though it 
 even be in the form of honors. For herself she 
 regards quiet preferable to ostentatious show, 
 
308 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 which would have cost her much indirectly, if not 
 directly ; and this she felt herself unable to bear, 
 according to the measure of her present state of 
 finances. 
 
 " In a recent letter to her bosom friend, Mrs. 
 Elizabeth Keckley, Mrs. Lincoln pathetically re 
 marks, Elizabeth, if evil come from this, pray 
 for my deliverance, as I did it for the best. This 
 referred to her action in placing her personal 
 effects before the public for sale, and to the harsh 
 remarks that have been made thereon by some 
 whom she had formerly regarded as her friends. 
 
 "As to the articles which belonged to Mr. 
 Lincoln, they can all be accounted for in a man 
 ner satisfactory even to an over-critical public. 
 During the time Mr. Lincoln w T as in office he was 
 the recipient of several canes. After his death 
 one was given to the Hon. Charles Sumner ; 
 another to Fred. Douglass ; another to the Eev. H. 
 H. Garnet of this city, and another to Mr. "Wm. 
 Slade, the present steward of the White House, 
 
Behind the Scenes. 309 
 
 who, in Mr. Lincoln s lifetime, was his messenger. 
 This gentleman also received some of Mr. Lin 
 coln s apparel, among which was his heavy gray 
 shawl. Several other of the messengers employed 
 about the White House came in for a share of the 
 deceased President s effects. 
 
 " The shepherd plaid shawl which Mr. Lincoln 
 wore during the milder weather, and which was 
 rendered somewhat memorable as forming part 
 of his famous disguise, together with the Scotch 
 cap, when he wended his way secretly to the 
 Capitol to be inaugurated as President, was given 
 to Dr. Abbot, of Canada, who had been one of 
 his warmest friends. During the war this gentle 
 man, as a surgeon in the United States army, 
 was in Washington in charge of a hospital, and 
 thus became acquainted with the head of the 
 nation. 
 
 " His watch, his penknife, his gold pencil, and his 
 glasses are now in possession of his son Robert. 
 Nearly all else than these few things have passed 
 
310 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 out of the family, as Mrs. Lincoln did not wish to 
 retain them. But all were freely given away, 
 and not an article was parted with for money. 
 
 " The Rev. Dr. Gnrley of Washington was the 
 spiritual adviser of the President and his family. 
 They attended his church. When little Willie 
 died, he officiated at the funeral. He was a most 
 intimate friend of the family, and when Mr. 
 Lincoln lay upon his death-bed Mr. Gurley was 
 by his side. He, as his clergyman, performed the 
 funeral rites upon the body of the deceased Presi 
 dent, when it lay cold in death at the City of 
 Washington. He received the hat worn last by 
 Mr. Lincoln, as we have before stated, and it is 
 still retained by him. 
 
 " The dress that was worn by Mrs. Lincoln on 
 the night of the assassination was presented to 
 Mrs. Wm. Slade. It is a black silk with a little 
 white stripe. Most of the other articles that 
 adorned Mrs. Lincoln on that fatal night became 
 the property of Mrs. Keckley. She has the most 
 
Behind the Scenes. 311 
 
 of them carefully stowed away, and intends keep 
 ing them during her life as mementos of a mourn 
 ful event. The principal articles among these 
 are the earrings, the bonnet, and the velvet cloak. 
 The writer of this saw the latter on Thursday. 
 It bears most palpable marks of the assassination, 
 being completely bespattered with blood, that has 
 dried upon its surface, and which can never be 
 removed. 
 
 " A few words as regard the disposition and 
 habits of Mrs. Lincoln. She is no longer the 
 sprightly body she was when her very presence 
 illumed the White House with gayety. Now 
 she is sad and sedate, seeking seclusion, and main 
 taining communication merely with her most in 
 timate personal friends. The most of her time 
 she devotes to instructive reading within the 
 walls of her boudoir. Laying her book aside 
 spasmodically, she places her hand upon her 
 forehead, as if ruminating upon something mo 
 mentous. Then her hand wanders amid her 
 
312 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 heavy tresses, while she ponders for but a few 
 seconds then, by a sudden start, she approaches 
 her writing-stand, seizes a pen, and indites a few 
 hasty lines to some trusty friend, upon the trou 
 bles that weigh so heavily upon her. Speedily it 
 is sent to the post-office; but, hardly has the 
 mail departed from the city before she regrets 
 her hasty letter, and would give much to recall 
 it. But, too late, it is gone, and probably the 
 secrets it contains are not confidentially kept by 
 
 the party to whom it was addressed, and soon it 
 
 
 
 furnishes inexhaustible material for gossip-loving 
 people. 
 
 " As some citizens have expressed themselves de 
 sirous of aiding Mrs. Lincoln, a subscription-book 
 was opened at the office of her agent, Mr. Brady, 
 No. 609 Broadway, this morning. There is no 
 limitation as to the amount which may be given, 
 though there was a proposition that a dollar 
 should be contributed by each person who came 
 forward to inspect the goods. Had each person 
 
Behind the Scenes. 313 
 
 who handled these articles given this sum, a 
 handsome amount would already have been real 
 ized. 
 
 " The colored people are moving in this matter. 
 They intend to take up collections in their 
 churches for the benefit of Mrs. Lincoln. They 
 are enthusiastic, and a trifle from every African 
 in this city would, in the aggregate, swell into an 
 immense sum, which would be doubly acceptable 
 to Mrs. Lincoln. It would satisfy her that the 
 black people still have the memory of her de 
 ceased husband fresh in their minds. 
 
 " The goods still remain exposed to sale, but 
 it is now announced that they will be sold 
 at public auction on the 30th of this month, 
 unless they be disposed of before that at private 
 sale." 
 
 It is stated in the article that the " colored 
 people are moving in this matter." The colored 
 people were surprised to hear of Mrs. Lincoln s 
 
 poverty, and the news of her distress called forth 
 14 
 
314 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 strong sympathy from their warm, generous hearts. 
 Rev. H. H. Garnet, of New York City, and Mr. 
 Frederick Douglass, of Rochester, E". Y., proposed 
 to lecture in behalf of the widow of the lamented 
 President, and schemes were on foot to raise a 
 large sum of money by contribution. The co 
 lored people recognized Abraham Lincoln as their 
 great friend, and they were anxious to show their 
 kind interest in the welfare of his family in some 
 way more earnest and substantial than simple 
 words. I wrote Mrs. Lincoln what we proposed 
 to do, and she promptly replied, declining to re 
 ceive aid from the colored people. I showed her 
 letter to Mr. Garnet and Mr. Douglass, and the 
 whole project was at once abandoned. She after 
 wards consented to receive contributions from 
 my people, but as the services of Messrs. Dou 
 glass, Garnet, and others had been refused when 
 first offered, they declined to take an active 
 part in the scheme; so nothing was ever done. 
 The following letters were written before Mrs. 
 
Behind the Scenes. 315 
 
 Lincoln declined to receive aid from the colored 
 people : 
 
 " 183 BLEECKEK ST., NEW YORK, October 16th, 1867. 
 "J. II. BRADY, ESQ.: 
 
 " I have just received your favor, together with 
 the circulars. I will do all that lies in my power, 
 but I fear that will not be as much as you antici 
 pate. I think, however, that a contribution from 
 the colored people of New York will be worth 
 something in a moral point of view, and likely 
 that will be the most that will be accomplished 
 in the undertaking. I am thoroughly with you 
 in the work, although but little may be done. 
 " I am truly yours, 
 
 "HENRY HIGHLAND GARNET. 
 " P. S. I think it would be well if you would 
 drop a line to Mr. Frederick Douglass, at Roches 
 ter, New York. 
 
 "H. H. G." 
 
316 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 "ROCHESTER, Oct. 18, 1867. 
 
 "My DEAK, MKS. KECKLEY: You judge me 
 rightly I am willing to do what I can to place 
 the widow of our martyr President in the affluent 
 position which her relation to that good man and 
 to the country entitles her to. But I doubt the 
 wisdom of getting up a series of lectures for that 
 purpose ; that is just the last thing that should 
 be done. Still, if the thing is done, it should be 
 done on a grand scale. The best speakers in the 
 country should be secured for the purpose. You 
 should not place me at the head nor at the foot of 
 the list, but sandwich me between, for thus out 
 of the way, it would not give color to the idea. I 
 am to speak in Newark on Wednesday evening 
 next, and will endeavor to see you on the subject. 
 Of course, if it would not be too much to ask, I 
 would gladly see Mrs. Lincoln, if this could be 
 done in a quiet way without the reporters getting 
 hold of it, and using it in some way to the preju 
 dice of that already much abused lady. As I 
 
Behind the Scenes. 317 
 
 shall see you soon, there is less reason to write 
 you at length. 
 
 "I am, dear madam, 
 
 " "With high respect, 
 " Very truly yours, 
 
 " FREDERICK DOUGLASS. " 
 
 "POTTSVILLE, Oct. 29, 1867. 
 
 " MY DEAR MRS. KECKLEY : You know the drift 
 of my views concerning the subscription for Mrs. 
 Lincoln. Yet I wish to place them more dis 
 tinctly before you, so that, if you have occasion to 
 refer to me in connection with the matter, you 
 can do so with accuracy and certainty. 
 
 "It is due Mrs. Lincoln that she should be in 
 demnified, as far as money can do so, for the loss 
 of her beloved husband. Honor, gratitude, and 
 a manly sympathy, all say yes to this. I am will 
 ing to go farther than this, and say that Mrs. 
 Lincoln herself should be the judge of the amount 
 which shall be deemed sufficient, believing that 
 
318 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 she would not transcend reasonable limits. 
 The obligation resting on the nation at large is 
 great and increasing, but especially does it be 
 come colored men to recognize that obligation. 
 It was the hand of Abraham Lincoln that broke 
 the fetters of our enslaved people, and let them 
 out of the house of bondage. When he was slain, 
 our great benefactor fell, and left his wife and 
 children to the care of those for whom he gave up 
 all. Shame on the man or woman who, under such 
 circumstances, would grudge a few paltry dollars, 
 to smooth the pathway of such a widow ! All 
 this, and more, I feel and believe. But such is 
 the condition of this question, owing to party 
 feeling, and personal animosities now mixed up 
 with it, that we are compelled to consider these 
 in the effort we are making to obtain subscrip 
 tions. 
 
 " Now, about the meeting in Cooper Institute ; 
 I hold that that meeting should only be held in 
 concert with other movements. It is bad general- 
 
Behind the Scenes. 319 
 
 ship to put into the field only a fraction of your 
 army when you have no means to prevent their 
 being cut to pieces. It is gallant to go forth sin 
 gle-handed, but is it wise ? I want to see some 
 thing more than the spiteful Herald behind me 
 when I step forward in this cause at the Cooper In 
 stitute. Let Mr. Brady out with his circulars, with 
 his list of commanding names, let the Herald and 
 Tribune give a united blast upon their bugles, let 
 the city be placarded, and the doors of Cooper 
 Institute be flung wide open, and the people, 
 without regard to party, come up to the discharge 
 of this national duty. 
 
 " Don t let the cause be made ridiculous by fail 
 ure at the outset. Mr. Garnet and I could bear 
 any mortification of this kind ; but the cause 
 could not. And our cause must not be damaged 
 by any such generalship, which would place us 
 in the van unsupported. 
 
 " I shall be at home by Saturday ; please write 
 me and let me know how matters are proceed- 
 
320 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 ing. Show this letter to Messrs. Brady and 
 Garnet. 
 
 " I am, dear madam, 
 
 " Yery truly yours, 
 
 " FEEDEEICK DOUGLASS." 
 
 " ROCHESTER, Oct. 30, 1867. 
 
 " MY DEAR MES. KECKLEY : It is just possible 
 that I may not take New J r ork in my route home 
 ward. In that case please write me directly at 
 Rochester, and let me know fully how the sub 
 scription business is proceeding. The meeting 
 here last night was a grand success. I speak 
 again this evening, and perhaps at Reading to 
 morrow evening. My kind regards to all who 
 think of me at 21, including Mrs. Lawrence. 
 " Yery truly yours, 
 
 " FEEDS. DOUGLASS." 
 
 "ROCHESTER, Nov. 10, 1867. 
 
 " MY DEAE MES. KECKLEY : I very easily read 
 your handwriting. With practice you will not 
 
Behind the Scenes. 321 
 
 only write legibly but elegantly ; so no more 
 apologies for bad writing. Penmanship has 
 always been one of my own deficiencies, and I 
 know how to sympathize with you. 
 
 " I am just home, and find your letter awaiting 
 me. You should have received an earlier answer 
 but for this absence. I am sorry it will be im 
 possible for me to see you before I go to Wash 
 ington. I am leaving home this week for Ohio, 
 and shall go from Ohio to Washington. I shall 
 be in New York a day or two after my visit to 
 Washington, and will see you there. Any pub 
 lic demonstration in which it will be desirable for 
 me to take part, ought to come off the last of this 
 month or the first of next. I thank you sincerely 
 for the note containing a published letter of dear 
 Mrs. Lincoln ; both letters do credit to the excel 
 lent lady. I prize her beautiful letter to me very 
 highly. It is the letter of a refined and spirited 
 lady, let the world say what it will of her. I 
 
 would write her a word of acknowledgment but 
 14* 
 
322 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 for fear to burden her with, correspondence. I 
 am glad that Mr. Garnet arid yourself saw Mr. 
 Greeley, and that he takes the right view of the 
 matter ; but we want more than right views, and 
 delay is death to the movement. What you now 
 want is action and co-operation. If Mr. Brady 
 does not for any reason find himself able to move 
 the machinery, somebody else should be found to 
 take his place ; he made a good impression on 
 me when I saw him, but I have not seen the 
 promised simultaneous movement of which we 
 spoke when together. This whole thing should 
 be in the hands of some recognized solid man in 
 New York. ~No man would be better than Mr. 
 Greeley ; no man in the State is more laughed at, 
 and yet no man is more respected and trusted ; 
 a dollar placed in his hands would be as safe for 
 the purpose as in a burglar-proof safe, and what 
 is better still, everybody believes this. This testi 
 monial must be more than a negro testimonial. 
 It is a great national duty. Mr. Lincoln did 
 
Behind the Scenes. 323 
 
 everything for the black man, but he did it not 
 for the black man s sake, but for the nation s 
 sake. His life was given for the nation ; but for 
 being President, Mr. Lincoln would have been 
 alive, and Mrs. Lincoln would have been a wife, 
 and not a widow as now. Do all you can, dear 
 Mrs. Keckley nobody can do more than you in 
 removing the mountains of prejudice towards 
 that good lady, and opening the way of success in 
 the plan. 
 
 " I am, dear madam, very truly yours, 
 
 " FREDERICK DOUGLASS." 
 
 Many persons called at 609 Broadway to exam 
 ine Mrs. Lincoln s wardrobe, but as curiosity 
 prompted each visit, but few articles were sold. 
 Messrs. Brady & Keyes were not very energetic, 
 and, as will be seen by the letters of Mrs. Lin 
 coln, published in the Appendix, that lady ulti 
 mately lost all confidence in them. It was pro 
 posed to send circulars, stating Mrs. Lincoln s 
 
324: Behind the Scenes. 
 
 wants, and appealing to the generosity of the 
 people for aid, broad-cast over the country ; but 
 the scheme failed. Messrs. Brady & Keyes were 
 unable to obtain the names of prominent men, 
 whom the people had confidence in, for the cir 
 cular, to give character and responsibility to the 
 movement so the whole thing was abandoned. 
 With the Rev. Mr. Garnet, I called on Mr. Gree- 
 ley, at the office of the Tribime, in connection 
 with this scheme. Mr. Greeley received us kind 
 ly, and listened patiently to our proposals then 
 said : 
 
 " I shall take pleasure in rendering you what 
 assistance I can, but the movement must be engi 
 neered by responsible parties. Messrs. Brady & 
 Keyes are not the men to be at the head of it. 
 Nobody knows who they are, or what they are. 
 Place the matter in the hands of those that the 
 people know and have some confidence in, and 
 then there will be a chance for success/ 
 
 We thanked Mr. Greeley for his advice, for we 
 
Behind the Scenes. 325 
 
 believed it to be good advice, and bowed our 
 selves out of his room. When Messrs. Brady & 
 Keyes were informed of the result of our inter 
 view, they became very much excited, and de 
 nounced Mr. Greeley as " an old fool." This put 
 an end to the circular movement. The enterprise 
 was nipped in the bud, and with the bud wither 
 ed Mrs. Lincoln s last hope for success. A por 
 tion of the wardrobe was then taken to Provi 
 dence, to be exhibited, but without her consent. 
 Mr. Brady remarked that the exhibition would 
 bring in money, and as money must be raised, 
 this was the last resort. He was of the impres 
 sion that Mrs. Lincoln would approve of any 
 movement, so it ended in success. This, at least, 
 is a charitable view to take of the subject. Had 
 the exhibition succeeded in Providence, it is my 
 opinion that the agents of Brady & Keyes would 
 now be travelling over the country, exposing Mrs. 
 Lincoln s wardrobe to the view of the curious, at 
 so much per head. As is well known, the city 
 
326 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 authorities refused to allow the exhibition to take 
 place in Providence ; therefore Mr. Brady return 
 ed to New York with the goods, and the travel 
 ling show scheme, like the circular scheme, was 
 abandoned. Weeks lengthened into months, and 
 at Mrs. Lincoln s urgent request I remained in 
 New York, to look after her interests. When 
 she left the city I engaged quiet lodgings in a 
 private family, where I remained about two 
 months, when I moved to 14 Carroll Place, and 
 became one of the regular boarders of the house. 
 Mrs. Lincoln s venture proved so disastrous that 
 she was unable to reward me for my services, and 
 I was compelled to take in sewing to pay for my 
 daily bread. My New York expedition has made 
 me richer in experience, but poorer in purse. 
 During the entire winter I have worked early 
 and late, and practised the closest economy. 
 Mrs. Lincoln s business demanded much of my 
 time, and it was a constant source of trouble to 
 me. When Mrs. L. left for the West, I expected 
 
Behind the Scenes. 327 
 
 to be able to return to Washington in one week 
 from the day; but unforeseen difficulties arose, 
 and I have been detained in the city for several 
 months. As I am writing the concluding pages 
 of this book, I have succeeded in closing up 
 Mrs. Lincoln s imprudent business arrangement 
 at 609 Broadway. The firm of Brady & Keyes 
 is dissolved, and Mr. Keyes has adjusted the 
 account. The story is told in a few words. On 
 the 4th of March I received the following in 
 voice from Mr. Keyes : 
 
 " March 4, 68. 
 
 "Invoice of articles sent to Mrs. A. Lincoln: 
 1 Trunk. * 
 
 1 Lace dress. 
 1 do. do. flounced. 
 5 Lace shawls. 
 3 Camel hair shawls. 
 1 Lace parasol cover. 
 1 do. handkerchief. 
 
328 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 1 Sable boa. 
 
 1 "White do. 
 
 1 Set furs. 
 
 2 Paisley shawls. 
 2 Gold bracelets. 
 
 16 Dresses. 
 
 2 Opera cloaks. 
 1 Purple shawl. 
 1 Feather cape. 
 
 28 yds. silk. 
 
 ARTICLES SOLD. 
 
 1 Diamond ring. 
 
 3 Small do. 
 1 Set furs. 
 
 1 Camel hair shawl. 
 
 1 Ked do. 
 
 2 Dresses. 
 
 1 Child s shawl. 
 1 Lace Chantilly shawl." 
 The charges of the firm amounted to eight 
 hundred dollars. Mrs. Lincoln sent me a check 
 
Behind the Scents. 329 
 
 for this amount. I handed this check to Mr. 
 Keyes, and he gave me the following receipt : 
 
 " Received, New York, March 4, 1868, of Mrs. 
 Abraham Lincoln, eight hundred and twenty 
 dollars by draft on American National Bank, 
 New York. 
 
 "S. C. KEYES." 
 
 I packed the articles invoiced, and expressed 
 the trunks to Mrs. Lincoln at Chicago. I then 
 demanded and received a receipt worded as 
 follows : 
 
 " Received, New York, March 4, 1868, of Mrs. 
 Abraham Lincoln, eight hundred and twenty 
 dollars in fall of all demands of every kind up to 
 date. 
 
 "S. C. KEYES." 
 
 This closed up the business, and with it I 
 close the imperfect story of my somewhat roman 
 tic life. I have experienced many ups and 
 
330 Behind the Scenes. 
 
 downs, but still am stout of heart. The labor of 
 a lifetime has brought me nothing in a pecu 
 niary way. I have worked hard, but fortune, 
 fickle dame, has not smiled upon me. If poverty 
 did not weigh me .down as it does, I would not 
 now be toiling by day with my needle, and 
 writing by night, in the plain little room on the 
 fourth floor of "No. 14 Carroll Place. And yet I 
 have learned to love the garret-like room. Here, 
 with Mrs. Amelia Lancaster as my only com 
 panion, I have spent many pleasant hours, as 
 well as sad ones, and every chair looks like an old 
 friend. In memory I have travelled through the 
 shadows and the sunshine of the past, and the 
 bare walls are associated with the visions that 
 have come to me from the long-ago. As I love 
 the children of memory, so I love every article in 
 this room, for each has become a part of memory 
 itself. Though poor in worldly goods, I am rich 
 in friendships, and friends are a recompense for 
 all the woes of the darkest pages of life. For 
 
Behind the Scenes. 331 
 
 sweet friendship s sake, I can bear more burdens 
 than I have borne. 
 
 The letters appended from Mrs. Lincoln to 
 myself throw a flood of light upon the history of 
 the " old clothes " speculation in New York. 
 
APPEJSTDIX. 
 
 LETTERS FROM MRS. LINCOLN TO MRS. KECKLEY. 
 
 " CHICAGO, Sunday Morning-, Oct. 6. 
 " MY DEAR LIZZIE : I am writing this morn 
 ing with, a broken heart after a sleepless night of 
 great mental suffering. K. came up last evening 
 like a maniac, and almost threatening his life, 
 looking like death, because the letters of the 
 World were published in yesterday s paper. I 
 could not refrain from weeping when I saw him 
 so miserable. But yet, my dear good Lizzie, was 
 it not to protect myself and help others and was 
 not my motive and action of the purest kind ? 
 
Appendix. 333 
 
 Pray for me that this cup of affliction may pass 
 from me, or be sanctified to me. I weep whilst 
 I am writing. * * I pray for 
 
 death this morning. Only my darling Taddie 
 prevents my taking my life. I shall have to 
 endure a round of newspaper abuse from the 
 Republicans because I dared venture to relieve 
 a few of my wants. Tell Mr. Brady and Keyes 
 not to have a line of mine once more in print. 
 I am nearly losing my reason. 
 
 " Your friend, 
 
 "M. L." 
 
 " CHICAGO, Oct. 8. 
 
 " MY DEAR LIZZIE : Bowed down with suffer 
 ing and anguish, again I write you. As we 
 might have expected, the Republicans are falsify 
 ing me, and doing just as they did when they 
 prevented the Congressional appropriation. Mrs. 
 - knows something about these same people. 
 As her husband is living they dare not utter all 
 
334 Appendix. 
 
 they would desire to speak. You know yourself 
 how innocently I have acted,- and from the best 
 and purest motives. They will hovd on to pre 
 vent my disposing of my things. "What a vile, 
 vile set they are ! The Tribune here, Mr. White s 
 paper, wrote a very beautiful editorial yesterday 
 in my behalf; yet knowing that I have been 
 deprived of iny rights by the party, I suppose 
 I would be mobbed if I ventured out. What 
 a world of anguish this is and how I have been 
 made to suffer ! * * You would not 
 
 recognize me now. The glass shows me a pale, 
 wretched, haggard face, and my dresses are 
 like bags on me. And all because I was do 
 ing what I felt to be my duty. Our minister, 
 Mr. Swazey, called on me yesterday and said I 
 
 had done perfectly right. Mrs. F says every 
 
 one speaks in the same way. The politicians, 
 knowing they have deprived me of my just 
 rights, would prefer to see me starve, rather than 
 dispose of my things. They will prevent the 
 
Appendix. 335 
 
 sale of anything, so I have telegraphed for them. 
 I hope you have received from B. the letters 
 I have consigned to his care. See to this. Show 
 none of them. Write me every day. 
 
 "M. L." 
 
 " CHICAGO, Wednesday, October 9th. 
 " My DEAR LIZZIE : It appears as if the fiends 
 had let loose, for the Republican papers are tear 
 ing me to pieces in this border ruffian West. If 
 I had committed murder in every city in this 
 blessed Union, I could not be more traduced. 
 And you know how innocent I have been of the 
 intention of doing wrong. A piece in the morn 
 ing Tribune, signed B, pretending to be a 
 lady, says there is no doubt Mrs. L. is de 
 ranged has been for years past, and will end her 
 life in a lunatic asylum. They would doubtless 
 like me to begin it now. Mr. S., a very kind, 
 sympathizing minister, has been with me this 
 morning, and has now gone to see Mr. Medill, 
 
336 Appendix. 
 
 of the Tribune, to know if he sanctioned his paper 
 publishing such an article. * * Pray 
 
 for me, dear Lizzie, for I am very miserable and 
 broken-hearted. Since writing this, I have just 
 received a letter from -Mr. Keyes, begging and 
 pleading with me to allow them to use my name 
 for donations. I think I will consent. * 
 " Truly yours, 
 
 M. L." 
 
 " CHICAGO, Sunday, Oct. 13. 
 
 " MY DEAB LIZZIE : I am greatly disappointed, 
 having only received one letter from you since 
 we parted, which was dated the day after. Day 
 after day I sent to Mrs. F. for letters. After 
 your promise of writing to me every other day, 1 
 can scarcely understand it. I hope to-morrow 
 will bring me a letter from you. How much I 
 miss you cannot be expressed. I hope you have 
 arrived safely in Washington, and will tell me 
 everything. * * "Was there ever such 
 
Appendix. 337 
 
 cruel newspaper abuse lavished upon an un 
 offending woman as has been showered upon my 
 devoted head? The people of this ungrateful 
 country are like the dogs in the manger ; 
 will neither do anything themselves, nor allow me 
 to improve my own condition. What a Govern 
 ment we have ! All their abuse lavished upon 
 me only lowers themselves in the estimation of 
 all true-hearted people. The Springfield Journal 
 had an editorial a few days since, with the 
 important information that Mrs. Lincoln had 
 been known to be deranged for years, and 
 should be pitied for all her strange acts. I 
 should have been all right if I had allowed them 
 to take possession of the White House. In the 
 comfortable stealings by contracts from the Gov 
 ernment, these low creatures are allowed to hurl 
 their malicious wrath at me, with no one to 
 defend me or protect me, if I should starve. 
 These people injure themselves far more than 
 they could do me, by their lies and villany. 
 Their aim is to prevent my goods being sold, or 
 
338 Appendix. 
 
 anything being done for me. In Ms, I very 
 much fear, they have succeeded. 
 
 " Write me, my dear friend, your candid opinion 
 about everything. I wished to be made better 
 off, quite as much to improve your condition as 
 well as for myself. * * Two weeks 
 
 ago, dear Lizzie, we were in that den of discom 
 fort and dirt. Now we are far asunder. Every 
 other day, for the past { week, I have had a chill, 
 brought on by excitement and suffering of mind. 
 In the midst of it I have moved into my winter 
 quarters, and am now very comfortably situated. 
 My parlor and bedroom are very sweetly fur 
 nished. I am lodged in a handsome house, a very 
 kind, good, quiet family, and their meals are ex 
 cellent. I consider myself fortunate in all this. I 
 feel assured that the Republicans, who, to cover 
 up their own perfidy and neglect, have used every 
 villanous falsehood in their power to injure me 
 I fear they have more than succeeded, but if their 
 day of reckoning does not come in this world, it 
 will surely in the next. 
 
Appendix. 339 
 
 " Saturday. I have determined to shed no 
 more tears over all their cruel falsehoods, yet, jnst 
 now, I feel almost forsaken by God and man ex 
 cept by the latter to be vilified. Write me all that 
 Keyes and Brady think of the result. For my 
 self, after such abuse, I expect nothing. Oh ! that 
 I could see you. Write me, dear Lizzie, if only a 
 line ; I cannot understand your silence. Here 
 after direct your letters to Mrs. A. Lincoln, 460 
 West Washington street, Chicago, 111., care of D. 
 Cole. Remember 460. I am always so anxious 
 to hear from you, I am feeling so friendless in 
 the world. I remain always your affectionate 
 friend. M. L." 
 
 POSTSCRIPT TO LETTER OF OCT. 24. 
 
 " I cannot send this letter off without writing 
 you two little incidents that have occurred within 
 the past week. We may call it justice rendered 
 for evil words,, to say the least. There is a paper 
 published in Chicago called the Republican, 
 
340 Appendix. 
 
 owned and published by Springfield men. Each 
 morning since my return it has been thrown at 
 my door, filled with abuse of myself. Four days 
 ago a piece appeared in it, asking < What right 
 had Mrs. L. to diamonds and laces ? Yesterday 
 morning an article appeared in the same paper, 
 announcing that the day previous, at the house of 
 Mr. Bunn (the owner of the paper), in Spring 
 field, Illinois the house had been entered at 11 
 in the morning, by burglars, and had been robbed 
 of Jive diamond rings, and a quantity of fine laces. 
 This morning s paper announces the recovery of 
 these articles. Mr. Bunn, who made his hundreds 
 of thousands oif our government, is running this 
 paper, and denouncing the wife of the man from 
 whom he obtained his means. I enclose you the 
 article about the recovery of the goods. A few 
 
 years ago he had a small grocery in S . 
 
 These facts can be authenticated. Another case 
 in point : The evening I left my house to come 
 here, the young daughter of one of rny neighbors 
 
Appendix. 
 
 in the same block, was in a house not a square off, 
 and in a childish manner was regretting that I 
 could not retain my house. The man in the 
 house said : i Why waste your tears and regrets 
 on Mrs. Lincoln ? An hour afterward the hus 
 band and wife went out to make a call, doubtless 
 to gossip about me ; on their return they found 
 their young boy had almost blinded himself with - 
 gunpowder. Who will say that the cry of the 
 1 widow and fatherless is disregarded in His 
 sight ! If man is not merciful, God will be in 
 his own time. M. L." 
 
 " CHICAGO, October 29. 
 
 " MY DEAR LIZZIE : I received a very pleas 
 ant note from Mr. F. Douglass on yesterday. 
 I will reply to it this morning, and enclose 
 it to you to hand or send him immediate 
 ly. In this morning s Tribune there was 
 a little article evidently designed to make 
 capital against me just now that three of my 
 
342 Appendix. 
 
 brothers were in the Southern army during 
 the war. If they had been friendly with me they 
 might have said they were half brothers of Mrs. 
 L., whom she had not known since they were 
 infants ; and as she left Kentucky at an early age 
 her sympathies were entirely Republican that 
 her feelings were entirely with the North during 
 the war, and always. I never failed to urge my 
 husband to be an extreme Republican, and now, 
 in the day of my trouble, you see how this very 
 party is trying to work against me. Tell Mr. 
 Douglass, and every one, how deeply my feelings 
 were enlisted in the cause of freedom. Why harp 
 upon these half brothers, whom I never knew 
 since they were infants, and scarcely then, for 
 my early home was truly at a boarding school. 
 Write to him all this, and talk it to every one 
 else. If we succeed I will soon send you enough 
 for a very large supply of trimming material for 
 the winter. Truly, 
 
 "M. L." 
 
Appendix. 343 
 
 " CHICAGO, Nov. 2d 
 
 " MY DEAR LIZZIE : Your letter of last Wed 
 nesday is received, and I cannot refrain from 
 expressing my surprise that before now K. and 
 B. did not go out in search of names, and have 
 sent forth all those circulars. Their conduct is 
 becoming mysterious. We have heard enough 
 of their talk it is time now they should be act 
 ing. Their delay, I fear, has ruined the business. 
 The circulars should all have been out before the 
 election. I cannot understand their slowness. 
 As Mr. Greeley s home is in New York, he could 
 certainly have been found had he ~been sought ; 
 and there are plenty of other good men in New 
 York, as well as himself. I venture to say, that 
 before the election not a circular will be sent out. 
 I begin to think they are making a political busi 
 ness of my clothes, and not for my benefit either. 
 Their delay in acting is becoming very suspicious. 
 Their slow, bad management is ruining every 
 prospect of success. I fear you are only losing 
 
344: Appendix. 
 
 your time in New York, and that I shall be left 
 in debt for what I am owing the firm. I have 
 written to K. and B., and they do nothing that I 
 request. I want neither Mr. Douglass nor Gar 
 net to lecture in my behalf. The conduct in 
 New York is disgusting me with the whole busi 
 ness. I cannot understand what they have been 
 about. Their delay has only given the enemies 
 time to gather strength ; what tloes it all mean ? 
 Of course give the lady at 609 permission to sell 
 the dresses cheaper. * * I am feeling 
 
 wretchedly over the slowness and do-nothing 
 style of B. & K. I believe in my heart I am 
 being used as a tool for party purposes ; and they 
 do not design sending out a circular. * * * 
 " Your friend, M. L." 
 
 " CHICAGO, Nov. 9, 1867. 
 
 " MY DEAR LIZZIE : * * * Did you receive 
 a letter a few days since, with one enclosed for F. 
 Douglass ? also a printed letter of mine, which I 
 
Appendix. 345 
 
 wished him to read ? Do write me every other 
 day at least, I am so nervous and miserable. 
 And Lizzie, dear, I fear we have not the least 
 chance of success. Do remain in New York a 
 little longer, and occupy yourself with the sewing 
 of your friends. Then I shall be able to learn 
 something about my business. In your heart 
 you know there will be no success. Why do you 
 not candidly express yourself to me ? Write me, 
 if only a few lines, and that very frequently. 
 R. called up on yesterday, with Judge Davis. 
 * R. goes with Judge D. on Tuesday, 
 to settle the estate, which will give us each about 
 $25,000, with the income I told you of, $1,700 a 
 year for each of us. You made a mistake about 
 my house costing $2,700 it was $1,700. The 
 $22,000 Congress gave me I spent for house and 
 furniture, which, owing to the smallness of my 
 income, I was obliged to leave. I mention about 
 
 O 
 
 the division of the estate to you, dear Lizzie, be 
 cause when it is done the papers will harp upon 
 15* 
 
346 Appendix. 
 
 it. You can explain everything in New York ; 
 please do so to every one. Please see H. G., if 
 it should come out in the papers. I had hoped, 
 if something was gained, to have immediately 
 placed you in more pleasant circumstances. Do 
 urge F. D. to add his name to the circular ; also 
 get them to have Beecher s. There must not be 
 an hour s delay in this. R. is very spiteful at 
 present, and I think hurries up the division to 
 cross my purposes. He mentioned yesterday 
 that he was going to the Rocky Mountains so 
 soon as Edgar Welles joined him. He is very 
 deep. * * Write me, do, when you 
 
 receive this. Your silence pains me. 
 " Truly yours, 
 
 "M. L." 
 
 "CHICAGO, Nov. 9. 
 
 "My BEAK LIZZIE: I closed and sent off my 
 letter before I had finished all I had to say. Do 
 not hint to K. or B., or any one else, my doubts of 
 
Appendix. 347 
 
 them, only watch them. As to S., so many false 
 hoods are told in the papers that all the stuff 
 about his wife and himself may be untrue. I 
 hope it may prove so. I received a letter from 
 Keyes this morning. I believe I wrote you that 
 I had. How hard it is that 1 cannot see and 
 talk with you in this time of great, great trouble. 
 I feel as if I had not a friend in the world save 
 yourself. * * I sometimes wish myself out 
 of this world of sorrow and care. I fear my fine 
 articles at B. s are getting pulled to pieces and 
 soiled. I do not wish you to leave N. Y. with 
 out having the finest articles packed up and re 
 turned to me. The single white camel s hair 
 shawl and the two Paisleys I wish returned to 
 me, if none of them are sold. Do you think 
 there is the least chance of their being sold ? I 
 will give you a list of the articles I wish 
 returned to me from Mr. Brady s before you 
 leave New York for Washington. 
 
 " 1 Camel s hair shawl, double black centre. 
 
348 Appendix. 
 
 1 Camel s hair shawl, double white centre. 
 
 1 Single white camel s hair shawl. 
 
 2 Paisley shawls ^white. 
 
 1 Pair bracelets and diamond ring. 
 
 1 Fine lace handkerchief. 
 
 3 Black lace shawls. 
 
 2 Black lama shawls. 
 
 1 Dress, silk unmade, white and black. 
 
 1 White boa. 
 
 1 Kussian sable boa. 
 
 1 Russian sable cape. 
 
 1 A. sable cape, cuffs and muff. 
 
 1 Chinchilla set. 
 
 " The lace dress, flounce, and shawl, if there is 
 no possibility of their being sold. Also all other 
 fine articles return me, save the dresses which, 
 with prices lowered, may ~be sold. * 
 
 "M. L." 
 
 " CHICAGO, Nov. 15, 67. 
 " MY DEAR KEOKLEY : Your last letter has been 
 
Appendix. 349 
 
 received, and believe me, I duly appreciate your 
 great interest in my affairs. I hope the day may 
 arrive when I can return your kindness in more 
 than words. As you are aware of my beloved 
 husband s great indulgence to me in pecuniary 
 matters, thereby allowing me to indulge in be 
 stowing favors on those whom I considered wor 
 thy of it, it is in this respect I feel chiefly the 
 humiliation of my small circumscribed income. 
 If Congress, or the Ration, had given me the four 
 years salary, I should have been able to live as 
 the widow of the great President Lincoln should, 
 with sufficient means to give liberally to all bene 
 volent objects, and at my death should have left 
 at least half of it to the freedmen, for the liberty 
 of whom his precious sacred life was sacrificed. 
 The men who prevented this being done by their 
 villanous unscrupulous falsehoods, are no friends 
 of the colored race, and, as you well know, have 
 led Johnson on in his wicked course. 
 
 " God is just? and the day of retribution will 
 
350 Appendix. 
 
 come to all such, if not in this world, in the great 
 hereafter, to which those hoary-headed sinners are 
 so rapidly hastening, with an innocent conscience. 
 I did not feel it necessary to raise my weak 
 woman s voice against the persecutions that have 
 assailed me emanating from the tongues of such 
 men as Weed & Co. I have felt that their infa 
 mous false lives was a sufficient vindication of my 
 character. They have never forgiven me for 
 standing between my pure and noble husband and 
 themselves, when, for their own vile purposes, 
 they would have led him into error. All this 
 the country knows, and why should I dwell 
 longer on it ? In the blissful home where my 
 worshipped husband dwells God is ever merciful, 
 and it is the consolation of my broken heart that 
 my darling husband is ever retaining the devoted 
 love which he always so abundantly manifested 
 for his wife and children in this life. I feel 
 assured his watchful, loving eyes are always watch 
 ing over us, and he is fully aware of the wrong 
 
Appendix. 351 
 
 and injustice permitted his family by a country 
 he lost his life in protecting. I write earnestly, 
 because I feel very deeply. It appears to me a 
 very remarkable coincidence, that most of the 
 good feeling regarding irfy straitened circum 
 stances proceeds from the colored people, in 
 whose cause my noble husband was so largely in 
 terested. Whether we are successful or not, Mr. 
 F. Douglass and Mr. Garnet will always have 
 my most grateful thanks. They are very noble 
 men. If any favorable results should crown their 
 efforts, you may well believe at my death, what 
 ever sum it may be, will be bequeathed to the 
 colored people, who are very near my heart. In 
 yesterday s paper it was announced that Gov. 
 Andrew s family were having $100,000 contri 
 buted to them. Gov. A. was a good man, but 
 what did he do compared to President Lincoln ? 
 Right and left the latter gave, when he had but 
 little to bestow, and in consequence his family are 
 now feeling it ; yet for my life I would not re- 
 
352 Appendix. 
 
 call a dollar he ever gave. Yet his favorite ex 
 pression, when I have playfully alluded to the 
 c rainy day that might be in store for himself 
 and his own on several occasions, he has looked 
 at me so earnestly and replied, Cast your bread 
 upon the waters. Although the petty sum of 
 $22,000 was an insufficient return for Congress to 
 make me, and allowanced to its meagreness by 
 men who traduced and vilified the loved wife of 
 the great man who made them, and from whom 
 they amassed great fortunes for Weed, and Sew- 
 ardj and R. did this last. And yet, all this 
 was permitted by an American people, who owed 
 their remaining a nation to my husband ! I have 
 dwelt too long on this painful subject, but when 
 I have been compelled from a pitiful income to 
 make a boarding-house of my home, as I now am 
 doing, think you that it does not rankle in my 
 heart ? 
 
 " Fortunately, with my husband s great, great 
 love for me the knowledge of this future for his 
 
Appendix. 353 
 
 petted and idolized wife was spared him, and yet 
 I feel in my heart he knows it all. Mr. Sumner, 
 the intimate friend of better days, called to see 
 me two or three weeks since he who had been 
 an habitue of the White House both the rooms 
 of the President and my own reception-room, in 
 either place he was always sure of a heartfelt wel 
 come ; my present situation must have struck a 
 painful chord in his noble, sympathizing heart. 
 And yet, when I endeavored to ameliorate my con 
 dition, the cry has been so fearful against me as to 
 cause me to forget my own identity, and suppose 
 I had plundered the nation, indeed, and commit 
 ted murder. This, certainly, cannot be America, 
 the land of the free? the home of the "brave? 
 The evening before Mr. Sumner s last call I had 
 received Mr. Douglass s letter ; I mentioned the 
 circumstance to Mr. Sumner, who replied : Mr. 
 Frederick Douglass is a very noble, talented man, 
 and I know of no one who writes a more beau 
 tiful letter. 5 I am sending you a long letter, 
 
354 Appendix. 
 
 Lizzie, but I rely a great deal on your indulgence. 
 My fear is that you will not be able to decipher 
 the scrawl written so hastily. 
 
 " I remain, truly yours, 
 
 " MARY LINCOLN." 
 f 
 
 "CHICAGO, Nov. 17. 
 
 " MY DEAR LIZZIE : By the time you receive 
 this note, you will doubtless find the papers 
 raving over the large income which we are each 
 said to have. Knowing exactly the amount we 
 each will have, which I have already informed 
 you, I was going to say, I have been shocked at 
 the fabulous sum set down to each, but I have 
 learned not to be surprised at anything. Of 
 course it is gotten up to defeat success. You will 
 now see the necessity for those circulars being 
 issued weeks since. I enclose you a scrap from 
 yesterday s Times of C., marked ]STo. 1 ; also No. 
 2, to-day s Times. The sum of $11,000 has been 
 subtracted in twenty-four hours from the same 
 
Appendix. 355 
 
 paper. If it continues for a few days longer, it 
 will soon be right. It is a secesh paper says 
 Congress gave me $25,000 as a present, besides 
 $20,000 of remaining salary. The $25,000 
 you know to be utterly false. You can show 
 this note to B. & K., also the scraps sent. Let 
 no one see them but themselves, and then burn 
 them. It is all just as I expected that when 
 the division took place, a mountain would be 
 made of a mole-hill. And I fear it will succeed 
 in injuring the premeditated plans. If the war 
 rages, the Evening News might simply say that 
 the sum assigned each was false ; that $75,000 
 was the sum the administrator, Judge Davis, 
 filed his bonds for. But by all means my author 
 ity must not be given. And then the Evening 
 News can descant on the $25,000 each, with 
 income of $1,700 each, and Mrs. Lincoln s share, 
 she not being able to touch any of her sons 
 portion. My word or testimony must not appear 
 in the article; only the paper must speak 
 
H56 Appendix. 
 
 decidedly. It must be managed very judiciously, 
 and without a day s delay. 
 
 " Yours truly, 
 
 "M. L." 
 
 " Nov 17 (Private for yourself ). 
 "LizziE: Show the note enclosed with this 
 to B. & K. ; do not let them retain it an 
 instant after reading, nor the printed articles. I 
 knew these falsehoods would be circulated when 
 the estate was divided. What has been the 
 cause of the delay about the circulars ? I fear, 
 between ourselves, we have reason to distrust 
 those men, - . Whatever is raised by the 
 colored people, I solemnly give my word, at my 
 death it shall all, every cent, be returned to 
 them. And out of the sum, if it is $50,000, you 
 shall have $5,000 at my death ; and I cannot 
 live long, suffering as I am now doing. If 
 $25,000 is raised by your people, you shall have 
 the sum at my death ; and in either event, the 
 
Appendix. 35 7 
 
 $25,000 raised, or $50,000, I will give you $300 
 a year, and the promised sum at my death. It 
 will make your life easier. I have more faith in 
 F. D. s and G. s efforts, than in B. & K., I assure 
 you. This division has been trumped up just 
 now through spite. * * I have written to 
 Judge Davis for an exact statement, which I 
 
 .* 
 
 will send to you when received. Write if any 
 thing is doing. * 
 
 " Truly, 
 
 "M. L." 
 
 " CHICAGO, November 21. 
 
 " MY DEAR LIZZIE : Your letter of Tuesday is 
 just received. I have just written B. a note of 
 thanks for his kindness ; also requesting the arti 
 cles of which I gave you a list. Do see Keyes 
 about it ; K. will have it done. And will you see 
 that they are forwarded to me before you leave 
 New York ? K. sent me a telegram on yesterday 
 that eight names were on the circulars, and that 
 
358 Appendix. 
 
 they would be sent out immediately. What suc 
 cess do you think they will have ? By all means 
 assure K. & B. I have great confidence in them. 
 These circulars must bring some money. Your 
 letter made me quite sad. Talk to K. & B. of 
 the grateful feelings I express towards them. Do 
 pet up B., and see my things returned to me. Can 
 you not, dear Lizzie, be employed in sewing for 
 some of your lady friends in New York until 
 December 1st ? If I ever get any money you will 
 be well remembered, be assured. R. and a party 
 of young men leave for the Rocky Mountains 
 next Monday, to be absent three weeks. If the 
 circulars- are sent out, of course the blasts will be 
 blown over again. So R. is out of the way at the 
 time, and money comes in, I will not care. Write 
 the hour you receive this. I hope they will send 
 out 150,000 circulars. Urge K. & B. to do 
 this. 
 
 " Your friend, 
 
 "M. L." 
 
Appendix. 359 
 
 u Saturday Morning 1 , November 23d. 
 "Mr DEA.R LIZZIE: Although I am suffering 
 
 O O 
 
 with a fearful headache to-day, yet, as your note 
 of Wednesday is received, I must write. I am 
 grieved to find that you are so wretchedly low- 
 spirited. * * * On Wednesday, the 20th 
 of Kovember, K. sent me the telegram I send you. 
 If he is not in earnest, what does it mean ? What 
 is the rate of expenses that B. has gone to in my 
 business, that he dares to withhold my immense 
 amount of goods ? Do you believe they intend 
 sending out those circulars ? Of course you will 
 be well rewarded if we have any success, but as to 
 $500 f now, I have it not for myself, or any one 
 else. Pray, what does B. propose to charge for 
 his expenses? I pray God there will be some 
 success, although, dear Lizzie, entirely between 
 ourselves, I fear I am in villanous hands. As to 
 money, I haven t it for myself just now, even if 
 nothing comes in. When I get my things back, 
 if ever, from , I will send you some of those 
 
360 Appendix. 
 
 dresses to dispose of at Washington for your own 
 benefit. If we get something, you will find that 
 promises and performance for this life will be forth 
 coming. * * It is mysterious 
 why B. NEVER writes, and K. once, perhaps, in 
 three weeks. All this is very strange. * 
 
 "M. L." 
 
 "CHICAGO, Sunday, Nov. 24th. 
 " MY DEAK LIZZIE : I wrote you on yesterday 
 and am aware it was not a pleasant letter, al 
 though I wrote what I fear will turn out to be 
 truths. It will be two weeks to-morrow since 
 the legally attested consent from me was received 
 by B. and K., and yet names have not been ob 
 tained for it, when last heard from. * 
 However, we will soon see for ourselves. If you 
 and I are honest in our motives and intentions, it 
 is no reason all the world is so. * 
 If I should gain nothing pecuniarily by the loud 
 cry that has been made over my affairs, it has 
 
Appendix. 361 
 
 been a losing game indeed. * * 
 
 And the laugh of the world will be against 
 me if it turns out as I now think; 51 there is 
 no doubt it will be all failure. If they had 
 issued those circulars when they should have 
 done, before the election, then it would have 
 been all right. Alas ! alas ! what a mistake it 
 has all been ! I have thought seriously over the 
 whole business, and know what I am about. I 
 am grateful for the sympathy of Mr. F. Douglass 
 and Mr. Garnet. I see that F. D. is advertised 
 to lecture in Chicago some time this winter. Tell 
 
 O 
 
 him, for me, he must call and see me ; give him 
 my number. if I had been able to retain a 
 house, I should have offered him apartments 
 when he came to C. ; as it is, I have to content 
 myself with lodgings. An ungrateful country 
 this ! I very much fear the malignity of Seward, 
 Weed, and R. will operate in Congress the coming 
 .winter, and that I will be denounced there, with 
 their infamous and villanous falsehoods. The 
 
362 Appendix. 
 
 father of wickedness and lies will get those men 
 when they pass away; and such fiends as 
 they are, always linger in this mortal sphere. 
 The agitation of mind has very much impaired 
 my health. * * * * Why, why was 
 not I taken when my darling husband was 
 called from my side? I have been allowed no 
 rest by those who, in my desolation, should have 
 protected me. * * How dearly I 
 
 should love to see you this very sad day. Never, 
 dear Lizzie, think of my great nervousness the 
 night before we parted ; I had been so harassed 
 with my fears. 
 
 "Always yours, 
 
 "M. L." 
 
 " December 26. 
 
 " MY DEAR LIZZIE : Your letters just received. 
 I have just written to K. to withdraw the 
 C. Go to him yourself the moment you receive 
 this. The idea of Congress doing anything is 
 
Appendix. 363 
 
 ridiculous. How much could effect if he 
 
 chose, through others. G-o to B. & K. the moment 
 you receive this. 
 
 "Yours, M. L." 
 
 " CHICAGO, December 27. 
 
 " DEAR LIZZIE : I wrote you a few lines on 
 yesterday. I have twice written to Mr. K. to 
 have the C. stopped. Go and see him on 
 the subject. I believe any more newspaper 
 attacks would lay me low * * As in 
 
 fluence has passed away from me with my hus 
 band, my slightest act is misinterpreted. Time 
 makes all things right. I am positively suffer 
 ing for a decent dress. I see Mr. A. and some 
 recent visitors eyeing my clothing askance. * 
 Do send my black merino dress to me very soon ; 
 I must dress better in the future. I tremble at 
 the bill that B. & K. may send me, I am so illy 
 prepared to meet any expense. All my articles 
 not sold must be sent to me. I leave this place 
 
364: Appendix. 
 
 early in the spring ; had you better not go with 
 me and share my fortunes, for a year or more? 
 * * Write. 
 
 " Yours, etc., M. L." 
 
 "CLIFTON HOUSE, January 12. 
 
 " MY DEAR LIZZIE : Your last letter was re 
 ceived a day or two since. I have moved my 
 quarters to this house, so please direct all your 
 letters here. Why did you not urge them not to 
 take my goods to Providence? For heaven s 
 sake see K. & B. when you receive this, and have 
 them immediately returned to me, with their bill. 
 I am so miserable I feel like taking my own life. 
 My darling boy, my Taddie alone, I fully believe? 
 prevents the deed. Your letter announcing that 
 my clothes* were to be paraded in Europe: those 
 
 * The clothes that I have given for the benefit of Wilber- 
 force College. They have been deeded to Bishop Payne, who 
 will do with them as he thinks best, for the cause to which 
 they are dedicated. The letter on page 366 will explain more 
 fully. 
 
Appendix. 365 
 
 I gave you has almost turned me wild. II. 
 would go raving distracted if such a thing was 
 done. If you have the least regard for our reason, 
 pray write to the bishop that it must not be done. 
 How little did I suppose you would do such a 
 thing; you cannot imagine how much my over 
 whelming sorrows would be increased. May kind 
 Heaven turn your heart, and have you write that 
 this exhibition must not be attempted. R. would 
 blast us all if you were to have this project car 
 ried out. Do remember us in our unmitigated 
 anguish, and have those clothes, worn on those 
 fearful occasions, recalled. * * I am posi 
 tively dying with a broken heart, and the proba 
 bility is that I shall be living but a very short 
 time. May we all meet in a better world, where 
 such grief is unknown. Write me all about 
 yourself. I should like you to have about four 
 black widow s caps, just such as I had made in 
 the fall in New York, sent to me. * * * 
 Of course you would not suppose, if I had you 
 
366 Appendix. 
 
 come out here and work for me six weeks, I 
 would not pay your expenses and pay you as you 
 made each dress. The probability is that I shall 
 needy^io more clothes ; my rest, I am inclined to 
 believe, is near at hand. Go to B. & K., and 
 have my clothes sent me without further publi 
 city. ~* * I am feeling too w r eak to 
 write more to-day. Why are you so silent ? For 
 the sake of humanity r , if not me and my children, 
 do not have those black clothes displayed in 
 Europe. The thought has almost whitened 
 every hair of my head. Write when you re 
 ceive this. 
 
 " Your friend, M. L." 
 
 " NEW YORK CITY, Jau. 1st, 1868. 
 " BISHOP PAYNE, D.D. DEAJR Sm : Allow me 
 to donate certain valuable relics, to be exhibited for 
 the benefit of Wilberforce University, where my 
 son was educated, and whose life was sacrificed 
 for liberty. These sacred relics w r ere presented 
 
Appendix. 3G7 
 
 to me by Mrs. Lincoln, after the assassination of 
 our beloved President. Learning that you were 
 struggling to get means to complete the college 
 that was burned on the day our great emancipa 
 tor was assassinated, prompted me to donate, in 
 trust to J. P. Ball (agent for Wilberforce Col 
 lege), the identical cloak and bonnet worn by 
 Mrs. Lincoln on that eventful night. On the 
 cloak can be seen the life-blood of Abraham Lin 
 coln. This cloak could not be purchased from 
 me, though many have been the offers for it. I 
 deemed it too sacred to sell, but donate it for 
 the cause of educating the four millions of slaves 
 liberated by our President, whose private character 
 I revere. You well know that I had every chance 
 to learn the true man, being constantly in the 
 White House during his whole administration. 
 I also donate the glove* worn on his precious 
 hand at the last inaugural reception. This glove 
 
 * I have since concluded to retain the glove as a precious 
 touvenir of our beloved President. 
 
368 Appendix. 
 
 bears the marks of thousands who shook his hand 
 on that last and great occasion. This, and many 
 other relics, I hope you will receive in the name 
 of the Lincoln fund. I also donate the dress 
 worn by Mrs. Lincoln at the last inaugural ad 
 dress of President Lincoln. Please receive these 
 from Your sister in Christ, 
 
 "L. KECKLEY." 
 
 " CLIFTON HOUSE, Jan. 15, 1868. 
 " MY PEAK LIZZIE : You will think I arn send 
 ing you a deluge of letter^. I am so very sad to 
 day, that I feel that I must write you. I went 
 out last evening with Tad, on a little business, in 
 a street car, heavily veiled, very imprudently 
 having my month s living in my pocket-book 
 and, on return, found it gone. The loss^I de 
 serve for being so careless, but it comes very 
 hard on poor me. Troubles and misfortunes are 
 fast overwhelming me ; may the end soon come. 
 I lost $82, and quite a new pocket-book. I am 
 
Appendix. 3C9 
 
 very, very anxious about that bill B. & K. may 
 bring in. Do go, dear Lizzie, and implore them 
 to be moderate, for I am in a very narrow place. 
 Tell them, I pray you, of this last loss. As they 
 have not been successful (BETWEEN OURSELVES), 
 and only given me great sorrow and trouble, I 
 think their demand should be very small. (Do 
 not mention this to them.) Do, dear Lizzie, go 
 to 609, and talk to them on this subject. Let my 
 things be sent to me immediately, and do see to 
 it, that nothing is left behind. I can afford to 
 lose nothing they have had placed in their hands. 
 I am literally suffering for my black dress. Will 
 you send it to me when you receive this ? I am 
 looking very shabby. I hope you have entirely 
 recovered. Write when you receive this. 
 
 " Very truly yours, M. L." 
 
 "CHICAGO, Feb. 7. 
 
 " MR. BRADY : I hereby authorize Mrs. Keek- 
 ley to request my bill from you ; also my goods. 
 16* 
 
370 Appendix. 
 
 An exact account must be given of everything, 
 and all goods unsold returned to me. Pray hand 
 Mrs. Keckley my bill, without fail, immediately. 
 " Kespectfully, 
 
 . LINCOLN." 
 
 " SATURDAY, Feb. 29. 
 
 " DEAR LIZZIE : I am only able to sit up long 
 enough to write you a line and enclose this check 
 to Mr. K. Give it to him when he gives you up 
 my goods, and require from him an exact inven 
 tory of them. I will write you to-morrow. The 
 hour you receive this go to him, get my goods, 
 and do not give him the check until you get the 
 goods, and be sure you get a receipt for the 
 check from him. * * In his account given ten 
 days since, he said we had borrowed $807 ; now 
 he writes for $820. Ask him what this means, 
 and get him to deduct the $13. I cannot under 
 stand it. A letter received from K. this morning 
 says if the check is not received the first of the 
 
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