Mrs. Lincoln and Mrs. Keckly: The Remarkable Story of the Friendship between a First Lady and a Former Slave (review)

Jennifer Fleischner's title captures the essence of her book—a dual biography of Mary Todd Lincoln and Elizabeth Keckly. Through the use of diaries, memoirs, and private correspondence Fleischner endeavors to trace the paths these two women followed to become friends.

Much is known of Mary Todd Lincoln, and the portrait historians have painted is not always attractive. Born to wealth and privilege in Kentucky, Mary was no stranger to adversity. The loss of her mother and baby brother, all before she turned eight, coupled with a tense relationship with her stepmother almost guaranteed that Mary would feel vulnerable. Packed off to boarding school at fourteen undoubtedly made the adolescent wonder if she was "purposely being put out of the way" (60).

Elizabeth Keckly was born to a slave, Agnes Hobbs. Her father was Colonel Armistead Burwell, 1812 war veteran and Virginia planter. As Fleischner notes, we will never know how Agnes first regarded this daughter born of a forced union, but we do know she gave Elizabeth her slave husband's last name of Hobbs. Lizzy's childhood would be marked by being loaned out to cruel masters in North Carolina where she was raped by the dissolute son of a planter family. She bore her only child as a result of that violent encounter.

Through the use of alternating chapters, Fleischner traces Mary and Elizabeth as they matured, married, and ultimately became acquainted. Despite her share of suitors, Mary seemed determined to marry Lincoln. She got her wish in 1842. Meanwhile, Lizzy Hobbs returned to Virginia, but her owners' financial woes forced them to hire her out—eventually to someone in St. Louis, Missouri. It was there she met and married "Mr. Keckly." It was not a happy marriage, and Lizzy tried to extricate herself from it. With the help of patrons Lizzy bought her freedom in 1855 and made her way to Washington, where she would become a sought-after seamstress for the elite.

Perhaps it was inevitable that the first lady and the mulatto Mantua maker would meet. Shortly after Lincoln's inauguration, Elizabeth Keckly was summoned to the White House. Thus began a relationship of "working partners" that evolved into friendship. Elizabeth created Mary Lincoln's fashionable wardrobe; she also emerged as one of the few people who could console Mary as she struggled with public condemnation for her spendthrift ways and grieved the loss of her much loved son, Willie.

The last several chapters of the book chronicle Lizzy and Mary's relationship as the Civil War unfolded. According to Fleischner, Lizzy became a sounding board of sorts as the issue of emancipation was debated. She also became the founder and president of the Contraband Relief Association. Fittingly, Lizzy accompanied the Lincolns to Richmond after it fell to Federal forces and visited her former owners in Petersburg.

Lincoln's assassination thrust Lizzy into one of the more difficult periods of her friendship with Mary Lincoln, for Lizzy alone could help Mary through her paralyzing grief. She accompanied the widow to Chicago and accepted Mary's entreaties to help her sell her gowns, cloaks, and accessories to ease her financial straits. Lizzy also began to pen her memoirs in an attempt to realize income she knew she would never receive as Mary's "partner." The memoir, coupled with the disastrous unveiling of Mary's wardrobe in New York, set off a firestorm. Mary "expelled Lizzy from her life," and Lizzy found herself adrift because "she had violated Victorian codes not only of friendship and privacy, but of race, gender, and class" (317-18).

Fleischner has done a prodigious amount of research for this book, and one wonders if that causes problems. More than half of the volume chronicles the separate paths of Lincoln and Keckly. But the topic of the book, the friendship...