The Lady Rises to Her Cause
by Karen Lyddane (2016)
I set my hand to offer first words for the year 2016, in honoring a noble, strong, dedicated lady who was a most unusual lady of the South. Elizabeth Van Lew is regarded as the most effective Federal spy of the War, from hundreds of ladies who daily risked their lives, reputations, and finances. Major General Benjamin F. Butler, commander of the Union Army of the James, referred to her as ‘my correspondent in Richmond.’ When entering Richmond, Lieutenant General Ulysses S. Grant, commander in chief of the Union Army, gave her personal protection.
Many years ago, this year, 2016, was 1861. The War Between the States was assured to have a lifetime of three months. Predictions, like this, proved terribly incorrect in the actuality of the War. Other influences, just as great, were not predicted. Such is the case for the role of ladies during that five year tragic time. Northern and Southern women supported their cause by providing critical intelligence, telling authorities of the enemy’s movements, discovering and passing on strategy, and of general state of supplies and welfare.
Elizabeth Van Lew was born in 1818, into a prominent Richmond family, which was never truly accepted, as her parents had both come from the North. Proud of her Richmond high society position, Elizabeth found slavery and secession extremely wrong. “She believed that Virginia’s distinct and special role as the architect of the Union required it to do whatever it could to preserve and sustain the country,” said historian Elizabeth Varon, author of Southern Lady, Yankee Spy. “But she always pretended to be a loyal Confederate.” In hospitals, she attended to Confederate soldiers as well as Union. She owned slaves, who later were given freedom, education, and opportunity to purchase some of her land holdings at affordable prices.
Elizabeth employed her standing to highest effect in her role as Union Spy, in ways such as sending her own slaves to town wearing hollow-heeled boots with notes in the hollow heels, exchanging them with “empty” heeled-boots before they started home. Their regularity caused Elizabeth to muse that her message route was far more dependable than the postal delivery. Messages were written in an elaborate code in ink that was transparent, then appeared in black when dipped in ink. As her family owned a farm, a servant regularly carried a basket of eggs to town, with one egg void of contents except for a coded message, which was torn into strips and rolled up into little balls.
After the First Battle of Manassas on July 21, 1861, Elizabeth faced reality just down the hill from her own home, in a warehouse once owned by a ship chandler. It was the infamous Libby Prison. She used her position to battle appalling conditions by sharing food, medicine, furniture, with the prisoners and of course, plans for escape and support for running their own spy network. Elizabeth Van Lew never married, and she eventually became the stereotypical Old Maid.
Although proving the origin of her older-age persona as “Crazy Bet” is doubtful, eccentric actions both helped and hindered her. While often dismissed as being addled, allowing her to manipulate situations, age intensified her mentally unstable image, frightening those around her, such as children who’d listened to the whispered rumors of her state of mind. Eventual divulgence of her actions during the War meant that her life became miserable; when she walked into town, others would cross the street to walk on the other side. In a Southern city, this has special importance, due to the customs and nature of the population.
This past year, with other Sons and Daughters of Union Veterans, I went to Elizabeth Van Lew’s memorial ceremony on her birthday. In a run-down area in the heart of Richmond, is the old Shockhoe Cemetery. Behind the many-times-patched old brick wall, under huge, hovering Magnolia trees, past the fancy yet frail iron fence, lies the grave of Elizabeth. So tiny is this plot that the petite Elizabeth Van Lew was buried upright. Her resting place is marked by a roughly cut boulder, from Capitol Hill in Boston, given to her by friends, three years after her burial. The inscription tells the tale of the body that lies beneath: ‘Elizabeth L. Van Lew, 1818-1900: She risked everything that is dear to man-friends, fortune, comfort, health, life itself-all for the one absorbing desire of her heart-that slavery might be abolished and the union preserved.’
**This article originally appeared in the Citizen's Companion magazine. This article is dedicated to my deceased Mentress, Donna Nangle, and my Union and Confederate ancestors, who fought for their beliefs, and thought victory was theirs, until time decided their fate.
I set my hand to offer first words for the year 2016, in honoring a noble, strong, dedicated lady who was a most unusual lady of the South. Elizabeth Van Lew is regarded as the most effective Federal spy of the War, from hundreds of ladies who daily risked their lives, reputations, and finances. Major General Benjamin F. Butler, commander of the Union Army of the James, referred to her as ‘my correspondent in Richmond.’ When entering Richmond, Lieutenant General Ulysses S. Grant, commander in chief of the Union Army, gave her personal protection.
Many years ago, this year, 2016, was 1861. The War Between the States was assured to have a lifetime of three months. Predictions, like this, proved terribly incorrect in the actuality of the War. Other influences, just as great, were not predicted. Such is the case for the role of ladies during that five year tragic time. Northern and Southern women supported their cause by providing critical intelligence, telling authorities of the enemy’s movements, discovering and passing on strategy, and of general state of supplies and welfare.
Elizabeth Van Lew was born in 1818, into a prominent Richmond family, which was never truly accepted, as her parents had both come from the North. Proud of her Richmond high society position, Elizabeth found slavery and secession extremely wrong. “She believed that Virginia’s distinct and special role as the architect of the Union required it to do whatever it could to preserve and sustain the country,” said historian Elizabeth Varon, author of Southern Lady, Yankee Spy. “But she always pretended to be a loyal Confederate.” In hospitals, she attended to Confederate soldiers as well as Union. She owned slaves, who later were given freedom, education, and opportunity to purchase some of her land holdings at affordable prices.
Elizabeth employed her standing to highest effect in her role as Union Spy, in ways such as sending her own slaves to town wearing hollow-heeled boots with notes in the hollow heels, exchanging them with “empty” heeled-boots before they started home. Their regularity caused Elizabeth to muse that her message route was far more dependable than the postal delivery. Messages were written in an elaborate code in ink that was transparent, then appeared in black when dipped in ink. As her family owned a farm, a servant regularly carried a basket of eggs to town, with one egg void of contents except for a coded message, which was torn into strips and rolled up into little balls.
After the First Battle of Manassas on July 21, 1861, Elizabeth faced reality just down the hill from her own home, in a warehouse once owned by a ship chandler. It was the infamous Libby Prison. She used her position to battle appalling conditions by sharing food, medicine, furniture, with the prisoners and of course, plans for escape and support for running their own spy network. Elizabeth Van Lew never married, and she eventually became the stereotypical Old Maid.
Although proving the origin of her older-age persona as “Crazy Bet” is doubtful, eccentric actions both helped and hindered her. While often dismissed as being addled, allowing her to manipulate situations, age intensified her mentally unstable image, frightening those around her, such as children who’d listened to the whispered rumors of her state of mind. Eventual divulgence of her actions during the War meant that her life became miserable; when she walked into town, others would cross the street to walk on the other side. In a Southern city, this has special importance, due to the customs and nature of the population.
This past year, with other Sons and Daughters of Union Veterans, I went to Elizabeth Van Lew’s memorial ceremony on her birthday. In a run-down area in the heart of Richmond, is the old Shockhoe Cemetery. Behind the many-times-patched old brick wall, under huge, hovering Magnolia trees, past the fancy yet frail iron fence, lies the grave of Elizabeth. So tiny is this plot that the petite Elizabeth Van Lew was buried upright. Her resting place is marked by a roughly cut boulder, from Capitol Hill in Boston, given to her by friends, three years after her burial. The inscription tells the tale of the body that lies beneath: ‘Elizabeth L. Van Lew, 1818-1900: She risked everything that is dear to man-friends, fortune, comfort, health, life itself-all for the one absorbing desire of her heart-that slavery might be abolished and the union preserved.’
**This article originally appeared in the Citizen's Companion magazine. This article is dedicated to my deceased Mentress, Donna Nangle, and my Union and Confederate ancestors, who fought for their beliefs, and thought victory was theirs, until time decided their fate.
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