FIRST LADIES, by Carl Anthony, William Morrow and Co. Inc., 685 pages, $29.95.

A pleasantly readable — almost chatty — saga of the activities of the wives of U.S. presidents, Carl Anthony’s “First Ladies” traces the influence of these women — some remarkable, others bland — from the redoubtable Martha Washington to the vindictive Nancy Reagan. Unfortunately, the more academic tone of the book tends to become gossipy as the book wears on, for we are given such tidbits as that Mamie Eisenhower’s “alcoholism” was but a myth and that the eminently virtuous Nancy Reagan was already two months with child when she finally dragooned her Ronnie into marriage vows.

In many cases, one discovers that the wives were more likely presidential fiber than their husbands, a singularly outstanding instance being that of Julia and Ulysses Grant. In this case, Julia, overwhelmingly ambitious and certainly bright, had a far more perceptive view of governmental happenings and intrigues than her stolid husband, under whose regime some of the most wrenching scandals ever to rock this country took place. Somehow, through Julia’s iron will (and despite her defiant nepotism), they weathered the many contretemps that marked Grant’s two terms. Curiously, though Americans always have given stern lip service to the cause of peace, they always have been susceptible to the questionable blandishments of military commanders as presidents — witness Washington, Zachery Taylor, Andrew Jackson, William Henry Harrison, Grant and, more lately, Dwight Eisenhower.

Probably the most enigmatic — and perhaps the most sinned against — first lady was Mary Todd Lincoln, from an aristocratic Kentucky family. Unfortunate enough to go to the White House during one of the most stressful times in this nation’s history, the poor woman could do nothing right. She was condemned by Northerners as a Southern sympathizer (and even spy) and reviled by Southerners as a turncoat. A strong abolitionist and a supporter of the Union, she had married an extremely moody man so that her domestic life was no bed of roses. Yet she loved her husband dearly and was prostrate at his untimely death. Doubtless that trauma brought on the nervous breakdown and the unquiet life that eventually landed her in an insane asylum. Hers, as Anthony points out, was one of the real tragedies of the White House.

Abigail Adams, the second to assume the title, had a hard act to follow inasmuch as Martha Washington was so greatly beloved. But Abigail spent much time grooming her son, John Quincy Adams, perhaps the most brilliant of all the presidents, for a political career. And for him politics was so absorbing that he had little time left over for his wife, the long-suffering Louisa, who tried to make up for his neglect by precipitating herself into “causes.” Though highly intelligent, Adams was entrusted with only one term, possibly proof that Americans distrust too much erudition in a public servant (decades later, Adlai Stevenson, another “egghead,” failed to win the hearts of his countrymen).

Surely one of the most popular and dashing of her clan, Dolley Madison, the Widow Todd, was a dominant figure in Washington from her days as first lady (when she managed to save official documents during the British siege of the capital during the War of 1812) to her death, at 80, many years later. The “Queen Mother,” as she came to be known, was always verging on poverty, largely because she insisted on subsidizing her wastrel son, Payne Todd. With her elan and magnetic presence, Dolley presaged the career of Eleanor Roosevelt of recent times.

Although Eleanor played second fiddle to her husband, she became one of the most visible of first ladies. An outspoken critic of segregation, she was responsible for having Marian Anderson sing at the Lincoln Memorial after that black singer had been denied the use of Constitution Hall, a building owned by the Daughters of the American Revolution. Toward the end of her busy life, Mrs. Roosevelt was appointed ambassador to the United Nations. At that point, she was heard to say how good it was that at least she could speak freely.

Her successor, Bess Truman, was her precise opposite. A solid wife and mother, she avoided the spotlight, preferring quiet games of bridge in the sanctity of her apartments. Mamie Eisenhower delighted in her role as first lady and hated to relinquish it, though for the sake of her own precarious health and that of her husband, she knew she had to, leaving for a more restful life in Gettysburg.

Lady Bird Johnson made her mark by endeavoring to beautify America. Pat Nixon, who followed, was evidently a power behind the throne as few women in her position had been. She faced danger to advance the career of her morally oblique mate.

The roll call of those women who have filled what is at once a distinguished and yet potentially opprobrious position in the life of this country is fascinating. Throughout his book, Anthony counterpoints the lives of these women as they interract within a certain time span. Perhaps best of all, they emerge as real people. Anthony balances their strong points with their weaknesses — with insights into the psyches of their spouses as he goes. That the book will qualify as a paramount historical reference despite its heavy documentation is dubious, but it unquestionably makes rewarding reading.

Robert H. Newall is a free-lance writer who resides in Hampden.