In 1887, Col. William P. Wood wrote a series of reminiscences for a Washington newspaper. One that has gotten a lot of attention involves his claims about the Lincoln White House. Wood was superintendent of the Old Capitol Prison, in charge of dealing with all sorts and levels of troublemakers, from Henry Wikoff to Rose Greenhow. He later was chief of the Secret Service. (See Mary Lincoln's Insanity Case: A Documentary History, Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 2012).
Some have doubted that Lincoln would confide in Wood as alleged, a position I’m inclined to agree with, but I think there are better reasons for doubting the story. This may well have been how Wood remembered events more than twenty years later. It is obvious he was personally aggravated by Stackpole and Hammack—by their politics, their manner, and their wartime behavior. If his desire to lock up Hammack and his cronies was thwarted due to the latter’s social connections, he naturally resented it. But he respected Lincoln, and Stackpole no doubt was close with Mary Lincoln, helping run the White House. She did put in good words for him. So, she was a natural target for his frustration. But let’s take a closer look at his account:
“A survivor of Buchanan’s administration retained position under Lincoln. The position was apparently an insignificant one. The favored one was Thomas Stackpole, a subtle partisan, Yankee Democrat.”
In 1861, the Potter Committee investigated government employees and demanded many of them be fired for having secessionist sympathies. No doubt many of them did have mixed feelings about all the changes and expressed themselves accordingly, and the capitol leaned democratic and southern in feeling. But the commitee tended into witch hunt territory, and Lincoln resisted, despite coming under heavy censure. One dya after receiving the report, he wrote to French, “Your note about Stackpole & Louis [Burgdorf, another employee], is received. I am getting along so well with all here that I greatly dislike to make a break amongst them, unless there is something very definite and certain, impelling to it. Is there any such thing?”
It was probably riskier to take on new employees deemed suitably loyal than to stick with longtime employees who knew their way around and proven themselves, even though they’d served under democratic presidents. As one man testified, Stackpole allegedly said “that he was still a Breckinridge democrat, and that they couldn't get along without him at the President's House.”
He definitely seems to have been essential to a smoothly functioning establishment, and it is likely he bragged about it, and that Breckenridge democrat became equated with bitter secessionist in the tense times. It is likely Stackpole had friends who were more vitriolic, as he was very well-connected in the city. So, the commitee heard that Stackpole and other employees were alleged to be “generally regarded in this community as secessionists and as disloyal men.” Several witnesses, including a policeman, testified Stackpole’s sympathies, so no doubt many such allegations were floating around. Lincoln and B. B. French, who along with Stackpole had come from New Hampshire with President Pierce, did some investigating.
French could never keep his exploits out of the newspapers, so on April 25, 1862, The Buffalo Commercial had an item called “Tom. Stackpole―A Good One.” It had probably originated a few days earlier the Boston Courier (French had relatives in Massachusetts and apparently kept them posted). It declared that “Col. Tom. Stackpole was appointed captain-general of the White House grounds by ex-president Pierce, which position he still holds, and that “Major Ben. B. French, the superintendent of public buildings,” had approached him and “cautiously informed him that certain politicians were after his situation, and were about to report him as a secessionist, and advised the colonel to be upon the lookout.” A few days later, Stackpole told French, “I’ve thought of it, and concluded not to trouble myself about it at all.”
“Why don’t you? They’ll have you out.”
“Oh, I’ve consulted a lawyer, and he tells me not to have any fears about it . . .
“Consulted a lawyer? Well, who was it that gave you such advice as that?”
“Well, it’s one of the smartest lawyers in the city. He came from Illinois, and his name is―Lincoln. He says I needn’t be afraid; they can’t hurt me.’’
The article concluded, “Major French now thinks that the colonel will not be removed.”
In the end, Lincoln retained most (if not all) of the accused employees. Some were put out by this, and there were various power/patronage struggles going on.
“Captain” Stackpole was involved in the boating community; he had an engineering background, and had gotten involved in the oyster business. This became more lucrative when the federal authorites took control of the Potomac. As Wood tells it,
He had an eye to business and he was anxious to take an extra dollar whenever occasion offered.
Others confirmed this. He was known for his “handsome face and urbane manner,” as well as his “Yankee cunning,” which was especially offensive to some people at the time. In early 1862, the commissioner of public buildings under Buchanan, Dr. Blake, lamented to Harriet Lane the social and political transformation of the capitol. Clearly put out, he gave her an update on the White House employees, focusing on which ones were properly sulking over Buchanan’s absence and which ones embraced the new administration.
Stackpole is a sort of chamberlain. He has free access to the private apartments in the establishment and enjoys the confidence of both the lady and the gentleman. In point of principle there is no difference between him and Watt excepting that his Yankee cunning enables him to practice greater concealment.
He had worked with Watt under Pierce, but their relationship seems to have been less friendly/shady than some have made it out to be. They came into contact because Watt was similarly enterprising and was involved in the sporting/boating/restaurant community.
If a permit was possible in those ticklish times Tom Stackpole could obtain it, and a customer with ready money had only to call upon John Hammack to score the coveted paper. John Hammack was the keeper of a restaurant then on the northeast corner of Pennsylvania Avenue and 14th Street. John wore good clothes and belonged to that class of idlers known as sporting men. His shortcomings in book education were counterbalanced by his experience as a local sport. He was a Virginia-bred Democrat and rabid secessionist. Stackpole had the ear of Mrs. Lincoln. He and Hammack were bosom friends. The latter should have had quarters in the Old Capitol, but was allowed his liberty because he was the silent partner of Stackpole, who secured permits for Hammack’s customers through the ‘lady of the White House.’
But Washington was notoriously overrun by “Virginia-born democrats” and people who “talked secesh.” Hammack did run a very popular Washington restaurant, and was also well-connected. Probably a lot of people complained about the new administration while they ate there, and expressed sympathy with the secession movement. It’s not particularly clear why Hammack should have been singled out for incarceration, though many people were held on less. His restaurant seems to have been patronized by all kinds of people throughout the war—the interesting Princess Salm-Salm recalled, that her husband “once came from a breakfast at Hammacks, a major restaurateur on Pennsylvania Avenue, and half-laughed, half-outraged, told me that Senator M'Dougall had danced an Irish gig in the public bar!” (A rumor later arose that Mary sold Lincoln’s shirts to Hammack after the assassination, which he intended to resell—seems weird for a rabid secessionist who does business with other secessionists!)
It is clear Mary Lincoln helped Stackpole get passes to collect oysters with his own vessel or some other vessel. This was not exceptional, as far as I can tell. You had to request permission from the military to privately fish, which meant getting someone to vouch for you. Hammack likely bought Stackpole’s “catch” for the benefit of his diners. Stackpole likely did not fish alone, and so he probably became a coordinator for other interested people, based on the access he got from White House influence. But, as Blake had noted, his influence was with both Lincolns. Mary Lincoln’s notes were accompanied by some directly from the president, and they were glowing in nature:
On January 14, 1864, Lincoln wrote to Major Gen. Butler. “This will introduce Thomas Stackpole, who I found in the White House when I came, having been brought from New Hampshire by Mr. Pierce. Have found him a straight, energetic man. He desires to go into some business about oysters in your vicinity; and so far as you can consistently facilitate him, I shall be glad.
The original letter survives (“Butler endorsed this letter to Cpl. West, requesting that Stackpole be allowed to get oysters if no “injustice” would result.”) Maybe Mary made him write this, but it seems a stretch to say Stackpole’s influence was because of the word of the lady of the house. The description at that link echoes Wood’s disparaging characterization of Stackpole, and is therefore puzzled by the fact that Lincoln lent Stackpole $384 and recommended him to General Wool, in 1862, as “a worthy and competent businessman.” The full quote from the note is “Thomas Stackpole, bearer of this, I have known rather intimately since my coming to the White-House, and I believe him to be a worthy and competent business man.” Wood’s story is therefore particularly implausible, because it rests on the fact that Lincoln was unaware of, and appalled by, what was going on. From Wood’s perspective, it may have seemed crazy that Lincoln was so dismissive of rumors about Stackpole, but it is evident he was pretty firm on this point. Granted, Wood insinuates that there was a more complex game going on, so perhaps there was something shadier to it, but he doesn’t bother to explain it, even so many years later when all parties, except for Watt, were dead:
The bargain and sale of trading permits, official favors and Government secrets, chargeable to Stackpole’s influence with Mrs. Lincoln, was so extensive that I deemed it my duty to inform Secretary Stanton of the fact. I discovered through whom certain applications would be presented. The subject became so notorious that President Lincoln’s attention was speedily called to the matter by Secretary Stanton, who suggested that the President should send for me for all the details of the nefarious practice.
It is unclear whether there was a gap between when he approached Stanton and when he learned “through whom certain applications would be presented”—not sure what he even means by that—is he talking about Stackpole, Hammack, Mary, someone else? But Stanton was not exactly shy or delicate, so the vagueness here is kind of weird. What did he tell Stanton? What did he tell Lincoln? What kind of nefarious practice? What kind of government secrets? Wouldn’t Stackpole belong in prison, not just Hammack, if this was the case? Wood’s story is all over the place.
And no one else knew about this, if it was even a secret? Trading permits and official favors were granted in the context of a well-known influence-peddling system—that’s just how things worked during the era. Mary later wrote that “through me [Stackpole] gained many favors, from my good husband” and “he realized much money, from my own good nature to [Stackpole] as well as my husband’s.” Stackpole wasn’t removed until the Johnson administration, and Johnson promoted him to steward almost immediately after taking office. He continued to be popular in the community until his death less than ten years later.
After a long private interview with the President in which he exhibited more feeling than I had believed he possessed, the grand and patient man said:
‘There were few men entirely sane, and more women are tainted with inanity and victims to insane delusions than would be prudent to admit. The caprices of Mrs. Lincoln, I am satisfied, are the result of partial insanity. Wood, have you ever give any attention to the subject?’
‘Only in a casual way, Mr. President,’ I replied.
Mary Lincoln had been declared legally insane in 1875, and remained so for one year before being declared legally sane, so by this point her mental health struggles were public knowledge. Everyone else claimed Lincoln never said a word about the matter. Did this conversation occur? It could have, but it hardly seems that this would have been a sufficient explanation in the face of the problems Wood was describing. Lincoln had nothing to say about getting rid of Stackpole or arresting Hammack?
I can’t make sense of it, but I think Wood’s story is at the very least distorted. And there’s one more thing: another account suggests Hammack’s freedom had nothing to do with Mary and Stackpole’s vague connniving.
In 1905, William J. Kennon, a Baltimore native, wrote up some war reminscences for the Baltimore Sun. He spoke well of Lincoln, whom he’d met, but ultimately sided with the South.
Before and during the war Mr. Hammack, a friend of mine, kept a first-class restaurant on Pennsylvania avenue, be tween Fourteenth and Fifteenth streets, in Washington. It will doubtless be remembered that President Lincoln had a young son Tad, who died. In going down the avenue one day he was tumbled over by the crowd and somewhat hurt. Mr. Hammack, standing at his door, saw the little fellow's plight and picked up Tad and carried him into the restaurant, and there attended to his hurts and bathed his bruised arm. Afterward he was often a visitor at Mr. Hammack's place. One day Tad missed Mr. Hammack, and on inquiring for him was told that the gentleman had been arrested and was in the old Capital Prison. He waited to hear no more, but ran home and told his father. Mr. Lincoln immediately wrote an order for his unconditional release, and Tad took it to the provost marshal and came back triumphantly with Mr. Hammack. All these little things show Abraham Lincoln's kindly nature and disposition. But, after all, there are some characteristics of President Lincoln I could never understand. How he could tolerate such characters around him as Seward, Stanton and Bingham is beyond my ken. (The Baltimore Sun, June 15, 1905.)
Tad strikes again!