code. Important messages were carried back
and forth in her baskets of fruit and flowers in a way that would have
been dangerous had not "Crazy Bet" established such a reputation for
harmless kindness. She had even won over Lieutenant Todd, brother of
Mrs. Lincoln, who was in charge of the Libby, by the personal
offerings she brought him of delectable buttermilk and gingerbread.
Clever Bet!

So well did she play her part now, and with such assurance, that she
would sometimes stop a stranger on the street and begin a heated
argument in favor of the Union, while the person who did not know her
looked on the outspoken little woman with a mixture of admiration and
contempt. At that time her lifelong persecution, by those who had
before been her loyal friends, began. Where before she had been met
with friendly bows and smiles, there were now averted glances or open
insults. She encountered dislike, even hatred, on every side, but at
that time it mattered little to her, for her heart and mind were
occupied with bigger problems.

What she did mind was that from time to time her permit to visit the
hospitals and prisons was taken away, and she was obliged to use all
the diplomacy of which she was mistress, to win it back again from
either General Winder or the Secretary of War. At one time the press
and people became so incensed against the Northern prisoners that no
one was allowed to visit the prisons or do anything for their relief.
Among the clippings found among Betty Van Lew's papers is this:

RAPPED OVER THE KNUCKS.

One of the city papers contained Monday a word of
exhortation to certain females of Southern residence (and
perhaps birth) but of decidedly Northern and Abolition
proclivities. The creatures thus alluded to were not
named.... If such people do not wish to be exposed and dealt
with as alien enemies to the country, they would do well to
cut stick while they can do so with safety to their
worthless carcasses.

On the margin in faded ink there is written: "These ladies were my
mother and myself. God knows it was but little we could do."

Spring came, and McClellan, at the head of the Army of the Potomac,
moved up the peninsula. "On to Richmond!" was the cry, as the troops
swept by. It is said that the houses in the city shook with the
cannonading, and from their roofs the people could see the bursting of
shells. "Crazy Bet," watching the battle with alternate