Elizabeth Keckley

[David Lockmiller]

(12-13-2018 07:19 PM)ReignetteC Wrote:  The "Overlooked No More" column of the December 12 edition of The New York Times features an OBIT of Elizabeth Keckly.

"Overlooked No More: Elizabeth Keckly, Dressmaker and Confidante to Mary Todd Lincoln."


https://www.nytimes.com/2018/12/12/obitu...overlooked

The following is from a comment to the NYTimes obituary by janeqpublicnyc:

Elizabeth Keckley's book, by the way, has been available online for free since 2008 at Project Gutenberg (http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/24968)

CHAPTER VII WASHINGTON IN 1862-3[Pg 53]

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 complete picture of dejection. Mrs. Lincoln, observing 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."

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 afforded 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 like a man: I will demand of thee, and declare thou unto me."