I could hardly credit that there existed a detailed portrait of the Lincoln family by an African-American domestic during the family's Springfield years. Yet here it is and, as Lloyd Ostendorf's prefatory material demonstrates, it is undeniably authentic, though unendorsed by much of the academic community.
This is a fascinating book.Its vivid portrayal of the daily life of the Lincoln household is by turns perplexing, funny, moving, and sad. Mariah Vance was first employed by the Lincolns as a laundress in 1850 after Mary Todd had run off every other working woman in Springfield. Henry Vance actually extracted extra wages--the equivalent of combat pay--from Abraham Lincoln for his wife's work. Over the next decade, Mrs. Vance became increasingly involved in the household and enjoyed a substantial measure of intimacy with the Lincolns.
The Lincoln who emerges from these pages is startlingly vivid. He is by turns deep, playful, philosophical, earthy, boyish, magisterial, romantic, distant, intimate--and always present. He partakes in absolutely no measure of the modern trait of numbness or non-feeling. His sadness, laughter, thoughtfulness are all immediate and resilient.
He is different in important ways from the man portrayed by much academic scholarship. He is not only more religious, he is much more Biblically grounded than has been supposed. In fact, Mrs. Vance insists that Lincoln was baptised by full immersion into the Church of the Brethren in 1860, just after his election to the Presidency. Conventional academics are skeptical of the story, but it makes sense, when juxtaposed against the language of the Second Inaugural.
Lincoln was also clearly not a racist. The book describes incidents in his early life when he came into close contact with African Americans, worked with them, socialized with them and in one case vigorously defended them to his own detriment.
He is punctilious about calling Mariah "Mrs. Vance" and her husband, Henry, "Mr. Vance," until he knows them well enough to call them by their first names without compromising respect. He has no compunction about socializing with them visibly and unselfconsciously. And he is vocal and definitive about providing cash remuneration for labor at a time when the bestowing of hand-me-downs on domestics was considered an act generosity. He is, in short, entirely unpatronizing. On the other hand, as a husband, Abraham Lincoln had what we now call "problems with intimacy." Whether justifiably or not, he was constantly away from home, riding the circuit or politicking. Thus, he laid the burden of coping with his wife's problems on the shoulders of his young son Robert. That the latter grew up to become a distinguished citizen in his own right is a tribute to his character.
For Mary Todd Lincoln was much more than any husband and child could handle. Some have called Mariah's portrait of her sympathetic. Good God! What would be unsympathetic? In these pages, Mrs. Lincoln is portrayed as a grandiose, manic-depressive, narcissistic, drug-addict. It's true that Mariah Vance felt tremendous compassion for Mary Todd Lincoln--in fact for all the Lincolns--but it's hard for the reader to sympathize with Mrs. Lincoln, particularly when it's revealed that she administered paregoric, the mixture of alcohol and opium to which she was addicted, to her babies.
The spirit of Ann Rutledge hovers over the domestic life of the Lincolns like a cloud. A quarter century after the young woman's death, Lincoln was still preoccupied with her. At one point, he finds in a shop and purchases a tintype portrait of a girl who he says is Ann's twin. In a colossal error in judgment, he shows this portrait to his wife and begins talking about his feelings for Ann, eliciting from his wife an entirely predictable, and not unjustified, eruption of violence, invective, and self-pity.
And yet the book is often very funny. Mariah Vance was an acute observer, who loved the Lincoln family deeply but without illusions. Her quick wit and refusal to be intimidated by her "betters" clearly delighted Lincoln himself, who described himself with neither self-pity nor resentment as "white trash." Her love and support for Robert Lincoln were clearly essential to the boy's psychological survival.
This is in every sense a domestic drama. The imminent earthquake of civil war is evident just offstage, but never dominates the action. The story also has something of the arc of a novel, as Abraham and Mary Lincoln learn to resolve the wounds of the past and reforge their marriage.
My only objection has to do with the Lincolns' language. This book was transcribed in short hand by a young woman named Ada Sutton in the first decade of the twentieth century. Decades later, the mature Ms. Sutton wrote out the memoirs, retaining Mariah Vance's Black English, which she had taken down phonetically.
The conversation of the Lincolns, however, she translated into a formal English of her own devising that completely lacks the vigor and suppleness of colloquial speech. This rings false because the Lincolns did not speak in such a stilted manner. At one point, Mrs. Vance notes that the Harvard-educated Robert Lincoln spoke correct English and tried to get his parents to emulate him, but to no avail. "They talked like old Kaintuck folks, what they was," Mariah observes.
This is an absolutely irreplaceable book, so full of pleasures and riches that when I finished it I turned around and started reading it all over again.

When I came across this book I thought: surely its a hoax! But no, the recollections of Mariah Vance are well attested. I suppose one should have to urge caution because: (1)The memories are filtered through the person to whom Mariah gave her recollections. (2) They are reminiscences from many years after Lincoln had been well and truly canonised not only as the saviour of the Union, but among blacks he was doubly revered as the Liberator of the slaves. Hence most of the marriage troubles are blamed on Mrs Lincoln who comes across as somewhat of a termagant, saved only by occasional tendernesses to husband and to Mariah herself. To me the reproduction of Mariah's speech as 1900-style black idiom grated a little - when will authors realise that this type of writing can pall quickly, when grammatical english almost always sounds fresh and immediate? Despite all those slight negatives, this book was immensely refreshing - it clears up a lot of mysteries about the Lincoln's relationship, about Lincoln's love for Ann Ruttledge who died tragically, and about Lincoln's life-long search for religious truth. It re-habilitates Robert Lincoln as a worthy son of a great father, and answers some of the criticism he took from historians about the later treatment of his mother. Lincoln has often been accused of 'racism', and was once forced into an election statement against racial equality, which may have been sincere, but he had no qualms about his eldest son being best friend of the son of his black housekeeper, and having regular visits between the two households. Even with the warnings given at the start of this review, its a 'must read' for Lincoln scholars and collectors, and an interesting further study for those who have read the Sandburg and David H. Donald biographies.

I found this a very colorful and informative work and I agree that this is probably the most improtant work published on Lincoln in the last twenty years. You can see what Lincoln delt with in his relationship with his wife; her habits and emotional problems and what working for the Lincoln's was really like. You also get a rare picture of young Robert Lincoln who has been very misunderstood and maligned by history. I've read this book twice so far and picked up something new each time. It's well worth the price and is a valuable addition to any Lincoln collection.