"Behind the Scenes": An Investigation, Pt. III
The Mystery Surrounding Its Authorship Continues

Part II
Introduction
The intersection of politics, personal drama, and publishing during the Andrew Johnson impeachment era laid the foundation for what became the “Old Clothes Scandal.” This sequence of events, which culminated in the release of Behind the Scenes (BtS) by Elizabeth Keckly, was deeply intertwined with the tumultuous political environment of 1868. The publication and reception of BtS were shaped by the fevered atmosphere surrounding Johnson’s impeachment trial and the broader media frenzy of the time.
In the months leading up to the book’s release, political tensions were high. Johnson’s attempts to replace Secretary of War Edwin Stanton with Ulysses S. Grant—and later with Lorenzo Thomas—flouted the Tenure of Office Act, triggering a constitutional crisis. This power struggle led to Johnson’s impeachment in February 1868, with the Senate trial commencing in March. Amid intense public scrutiny and media coverage, Johnson narrowly avoided removal from office in May. By that time, the nation’s focus had already begun shifting to the upcoming presidential election, with Ulysses S. Grant emerging as the Republican frontrunner.
It was within this charged environment that BtS was published. The book appears to have been timed to coincide with key moments in the impeachment trial, specifically the opening of Johnson’s defense. By aligning its release with the trial’s heightened attention, BtS became part of a broader trend of “insider” narratives and sensationalist accounts that dominated the era’s media landscape. These works often blurred the lines between genuine memoir and opportunistic gossip.
BtS seems to have been published to coincide with the start of the defense’s case, and discussion of the book seems to have stopped with the cessation of the trial. In other words, it seems to have been “of a piece” with the general “insider” and “partisan” discourse surrounding that high-excitement era, as conducted by a motley crew of writers and/or opportunists in the press and broader media sphere.
It was without a doubt a good time to pitch a tell-all or send-up of any kind or quality, so long as the subject matter could be made to touch on the ongoing DC drama and related themes and narratives. Mary herself said as much, sharply complaining about an atmosphere in which “indefatigable” literary acquaintances like F.B. Carpenter felt free to publish at length about Lincoln-related matters they knew little about (in her eyes, at least). In a letter written in late 1867, at the peak of the Old Clothes Scandal, she referred “such men” as “mere adventurers” in a letter to a friend of hers, Henry C. Deming, and went on to call Carpenter “a second edition of…[William H.] Herndon, endeavoring to write himself into notice,” and complained that “each scribbling writer, almost strangers to Mr L., subscribe themselves, is most intimate friend!”
Whether or not the book was actually flying off the shelves in Springfield, and whether or not Keckly intended for the book to cause this kind of drama, the correspondent’s claim speaks to the circus-like and gossipy environment in relevant circles at the time. (It also suggested that Mary was in the midst of writing her own book to set the story straight.)1
Unlike Keckly, though, Mary declined the offer, insisting on waiting until next spring at the very least. It seems like she and Deming were discussing a rather sentimental “take” that revolved around her memories of her late husband, perhaps to balance out the racier, gossipy, “tribal,” and opportunistic accounts then flooding the market. Ultimately, she did as she said she would and apparently began initiating various ghostwriting projects within a year, primarily focused on her memories of her husband.
The freewheeling and frenzied but hackneyed media atmosphere of the time is consistent with BTS’s odd structure and Keckly’s vague and inconsistent stories about the book’s publication. This is also true of the the trendy narrative-driven nature of what was published, a phenomenon that Mary also remarked upon —and pushed back against—at the time. In letters to Deming, she insisted she could wait to embark on such a project, as she doubted that “the coming Presidential campaign, with GRANT, as the ‘coming man’ at its head, would affect any historical recollections” she could provide.
In the first two parts of this series, I explained my thoughts on what to make of how the book was assembled. From Part II:
Analyses of the book itself tend to assume a level of coherence and unified intention that I suspect was not present in the publication process. It was probably more similar to the production process of a 48 Hours episode—-get a good story and a substantive interview, then cheapen it with tabloid clips and a formulaic structure, in order to make it longer and more “exciting.” The resulting product is superficial and often contradictory or misleading, but that’s more a result of the show’s design than a targeted plan. There were a lot of publishing houses back then that cranked out “filler” books, formulaic and designed to take advantage of momentary fads, rather than to build a lasting work.
Similarly, one contemporary review noted that the book was “merely a rehash of old newspaper correspondent's gossip about the families of Jefferson Davis, Mr. Lincoln and Mr. Johnson.”2 This is an oversimplification, but it’s an accurate description of large parts of the book, probably those added in at the end to impose broader narrative-alignment and coherence. (It also suggests that the ghostwriter of that part could have been almost anyone familiar with quickly pieced-together tabloid-style narratives, and this was a booming business at the time. There was not much special knowledge or taste/talent, required, and in my opinion the style of that part of the book argues against the writer’s possession of any particularly special qualities or connections.)
Below, you can see the rather odd arrangement of the book taken from one of the contemporary reviews. It start’s with a detailed account of Keckly’s early life, followed by a chapter on the family of Jefferson Davis, then gossip about the Lincolns, but in very specific areas, then veering rather strangely to the alleged Douglas-Lincoln courtship rivalry and dramatic and rather scandalous accounts of her interactions with Mary.3
[ETA: after publishing, I realized that my screenshot was missing, and am trying to locate it. The same point can be made by looking at the Table of Contents in BtS, however.]
In keeping with my argument it was seen as a niche “filler” book more than a serious tell-all, a Washington journalist later wrote that the book was “admitted to be an admirable ‘take off’ of the eccentricity which reigned supreme inside the four walls of the executive mansion.”)
Mary Lincoln’s Perspective
Mary Lincoln’s reaction to this frenzy was one of frustration and dismay. She lamented the proliferation of opportunistic writers—“mere adventurers,” as she called them—who exploited their tenuous connections to Abraham Lincoln or his administration for profit. In letters to confidants like Henry C. Deming, she criticized figures such as Francis B. Carpenter for their speculative writings. Carpenter’s book on Lincoln’s signing of the Emancipation Proclamation was, in her view, emblematic of the hackneyed narratives saturating the market.
At the same time, Mary was aware of the commercial potential of such works. Deming, a politician with publishing ties, encouraged her to produce a memoir of her own, suggesting that a sentimental account of her life with Lincoln could counterbalance the scandalous and superficial narratives then in vogue. Despite this advice, Mary declined to engage in the “scribbling” culture of 1868, preferring to delay any such project until the political climate had settled.
Keckly’s Brief Celebrity and the Role of James Redpath
On June 29, 1868, the Salem Register of Massachusetts had “Local Items” including “Readings this Evening.”
Mrs. Elizabeth Keckley, the colored authoress, formerly modiste to Mrs. Lincoln and Mrs. Jefferson Davis, whose recently published work, ‘behind the Scenes,’ has made her name pretty general known, gives a reading at the Lyceum Hall this evening, such as she has been giving in Boston. The Daily Advertiser, noticing her entertainment there, say she repeats some extracts from Longfellow’s ‘Hiawatha,’ and others from the chapter in her own book which relates to the assassination of President Lincoln. The audience seemed to find considerable interest in the matter and manner of the reading. Mrs. Keckley is a colored woman, as it will be remembered, and her appearance is in every way that of a refined, self-possessed woman; she reads without any elocutionary profession, but with much simple directness and effect, as any educated, intelligent person might, and the chief interests of her entertainment will therefore consist with most persons in seeing the woman who sustained such close relations to the household of Mr. Lincoln. The price of admission is very reasonable, and a large audience ought to reward Mrs. Keckley’s enterprise.”
Frances Rollin, a young Black writer from South Carolina ensconced in the contemporary Boston publishing scene, recorded attending the reading in her diary, emphasizing what she saw as Keckley’s banality and amateurishness. Back on April 16, 1868, she recorded visiting “Mr. Redpath’s,” and running into William Lee, a local book publisher who must have just received a copy of Keckly’s book, as well as a Mr. Baker. Lee showed it to Rollins, and she read it in one sitting. “It is well written,” she wrote, but also implied that it was obviously not written by Keckly.4
While this opinion may have been mostly speculation on Rollins’s part, it seems probable from her writings that while Keckly’s book was widely understood to have been ghostwritten,5 her friend James Redpath was not the ghostwriter, as has been frequently alleged by more modern writers. Had anyone in her circle been responsible for the book, she likely would have alluded to this connection in one of her entries speculating about Keckly’s actual level of involvement.
In any event, BtS had lost most of its steam by July of 1868, when attention shifted to the election, and Mary had become absorbed in making and Tad’s imminent trip to Europe, seemingly having mostly moved on from the whole topic by the time Keckly’s book surfaced. However, she was contemplating a book of her own in the late fall and early winter of 1867-1868, and rumors that one was forthcoming remained a constant from that time until a few weeks after BtS was published.
Mary had last written to Keckly (at least on record) in early February of 1868, and wrote dismissively of her and the book to Rhoda White when it came out in April.
The Content and Reception of Behind the Scenes
Keckly’s BtS reflects the chaotic media environment of its time. The book’s structure—a mix of personal memoir, political gossip, and dramatic anecdotes—bears the hallmarks of rushed production and editorial intervention. Contemporary reviews often dismissed it as a “rehash” of tabloid-style narratives, suggesting that its ghostwriter prioritized sensationalism over coherence or depth. I have compared its assembly to the production of a “48 Hours” episode: substantive material diluted by formulaic and sensationalized elements.
The book’s content fueled significant controversy, particularly its depictions of Mary Lincoln. Keckly’s accounts of Mary’s behavior and their interactions were both intimate and unflattering, which some interpreted as a betrayal. In Springfield, Illinois, Mary’s former neighbors reportedly flocked to bookstores to read her “vicious stabs” at local residents, underscoring the book’s appeal as a source of gossip.
Elizabeth Keckly’s Brief Celebrity
In the months following BtS’s publication, Keckly embarked on a promotional tour, giving public readings of the book’s assassination chapter in cities like Boston and Washington, D.C. Her appearances drew interest both for their subject matter and for the novelty of seeing a Black woman who had once been close to the Lincolns. However, Keckly’s literary moment was short-lived; by mid-1868, public attention had shifted to the presidential election, and BtS had faded from the spotlight.
Despite its initial buzz, BtS was largely dismissed by critics as a superficial and opportunistic work. Frances Rollins, a young Black writer in Boston, noted in her diary that while the book was “well written,” it was likely ghostwritten and lacked the depth or authenticity that might have made it a lasting contribution to Lincoln scholarship.
The Mystery of Ghostwriting
The question of who ghostwrote BtS remains unresolved. Contemporary speculation often pointed to James Redpath, a prominent abolitionist and publisher, but there is little concrete evidence to support this claim. Rollins, who moved in the same literary circles as Redpath, recorded no indications of his involvement. Instead, the book’s style suggests the hand of a formulaic and commercially minded writer, likely hired by the publisher to capitalize on the public’s appetite for Lincoln-related stories.
Conclusion: The Mystery Continues
The publication and reception of BtS offer a fascinating lens through which to examine the media and political culture of 1868. The book’s blend of personal memoir and sensationalist gossip, coupled with the frenzied atmosphere of the Johnson impeachment trial, ensured its momentary prominence. However, its lasting legacy is less about its content than about what it reveals—about Mary Lincoln, Elizabeth Keckly, and the opportunistic publishing industry of the era.
As I continue to investigate these interconnected stories, I invite other researchers to explore the following additional points of interest:
The role of regional publishers like H.H. Bancroft & Co. in distributing BtS on the West Coast. Bancroft was *BtS'*s West Coast publisher.
Coverage of BtS in newspapers like the Portland Daily Press and the Golden Era.
The implications of Mary Lincoln’s reluctance to engage in the publishing frenzy.
Stay tuned for Part III, where we delve deeper into the aftermath of the Old Clothes Scandal and its enduring questions, such as whether Mary had two or three different book projects in mind and where any such drafts drawn up might be located.
Postscript: As I’ve said before, I am trying to make my research public, for the benefit of other researchers. So here are a few additional points of interest from my research:
On June 27, 1868, the New-York Daily Reformer noted that “Rand has [BTS] for sale,” presumably referring to a local bookshop owner. So the paper disapproved of the book, but this and much of the other coverage does not indicate that sales of BtS were initially suppressed.
As mentioned in Part II and above, Keckley did indeed embark on a brief tour centered around promoting the assassination chapter of the book. She gave a private reading of the chapter at a lecture hall in either DC or New York City in mid-June, and did the same reading in Boston a few days later.6
BtS eventually had a West Coast publisher, San Francisco’s H. H. Bancroft & Co.7
“Springfield (III.) Correspondence [of the] Chicago Times,” circa April 1868. (I can’t find the exact citation in my notes).
The Portland [Maine] Daily Press, May 1, 1868.
On November 7, 1880, the Oil City Sunday Derrick published an “Intercepted Letter” which was gossip-filled Washington correspondence from “Julie” to “Kitty.” The is appears to have been a cute twist on the normal style of Washington correspondence, portrayed as letters exchanged between two friends or sisters that just happened to find their way into the paper.
Neary, Janet. “‘Behind the Scenes’ and Inside Out: Elizabeth Keckly’s Revision of the Slave-Narrative Form.” African American Review 47, no. 4 (2014): 555–73. http://www.jstor.org/stable/24589840.
See, for example, a contemporary review of BtS in The Atlantic (“We suppose that Mrs. Keckley, as a literary resource, is probably exhausted in the volume before us; but we would not have the ingenious editor of the work (whoever he may be) despair on that account...We put Mrs. Keckley out of the question of authorship ; and, of the material which she has supplied, we have but to say that it is both dull and trivial.”) See also correspondence between A.D. Worthington and Henry C. Deming (requesting that Deming either offer himself to Mary Lincon as a ghostwriter or introduce her to a ghostwriter chosen by him to work on a book project involving Mary’s reminiscences, suggesting this was standard practice for such books). Interestingly, most reviews that mentioned ghostwriting were quite insistent that the ghostwriter was male—a supposition I agree with from the style and context—even though there were a number of prominent female writers at the time who wrote in a similar style. Two of these were mentioned in certain gossip columns early on in the saga, with Jennie June reporting in early winter of 1868 that Olive Logan was working on one. That rumor was quickly denied.
The Boston Post, June 22, 1868; N.Y. Evening Express, quoted in the Alexandria Gazette, June 18, 1868.
The Golden Era (San Francisco), August 8, 1868. (it is listed alongside the original publisher, G. W. Carleton & Co.)