top of page
IMG_4493_edited.jpg

Elizabeth Van Lew

Spy. Abolitionist. Unionist. Public Servant.

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • LinkedIn
  • Instagram

Her Story

Elizabeth Van Lew was born in Richmond, Virginia, to John and Eliza Van Lew, a wealthy Northern-born family who settled in Richmond in part because of John Van Lew’s health. Her father became a successful hardware merchant, serving prominent clients and building a life of wealth and social standing in the city.

The Van Lew family lived in a grand three-story mansion on [LOCATION / STREET NAME], traveled by white carriage, and moved among Richmond’s elite. In many ways, Elizabeth was raised to become a Southern belle. She understood the customs, expectations, and social codes of high society. Her family had the means to provide her with education, travel, and access to influential circles.

But Elizabeth’s conscience would not allow her to accept the world she had inherited.

​

As a young woman, she was sent North for school, where she was influenced by abolitionist thought. Her mother’s father had also been an abolitionist, and though Elizabeth never truly knew him, that spirit of resistance seemed to live on in her. Stories she heard about the cruelty of slavery stayed with her. She could not reconcile the teachings of her faith with the reality of human bondage. A member of St. John’s Episcopal Church, Elizabeth struggled with how people could speak of loving their neighbors while participating in and benefiting from enslavement.

The Van Lew household enslaved approximately nineteen people. After John Van Lew’s death, his will left wealth and property to his children, but it also included instructions that the enslaved people connected to the family were not to be freed. He seemed to understand the convictions of his wife and daughter. Still, Elizabeth and her mother, Eliza, found ways to act on what they believed. They worked together not only to support the freedom of those connected to their household, but also to aid the Union cause during the Civil War.

​

Their work began with compassion and care. Elizabeth and her mother brought food, books, medicine, and support to Union prisoners of war held in Richmond. They nursed wounds, carried letters, and offered aid where they could. Over time, that work developed into something far more dangerous: a secret network of information, coded messages, and assistance that helped the Union Army gain access to intelligence from within Confederate Richmond.

​

Elizabeth Van Lew became a central figure in a Union spy ring that included her mother, formerly enslaved people, free Black Richmonders, and enslaved people who risked their lives to carry information. She used her wealth, home, social standing, and public image as cover. While a Confederate flag may have appeared outside her home, those escaping from places like Libby Prison knew that Elizabeth Van Lew was someone who could help. Her home included hidden spaces and pathways where escapees could be sheltered as they moved toward freedom.

The work was costly. Elizabeth sold furniture, livestock, and other possessions to fund the network and support the Union cause. She used everything available to her—money, access, reputation, strategy, and courage—to help undermine the Confederacy from within its own capital.

​

Her intelligence reports reached Union leaders. Abraham Lincoln knew of his “friends in Richmond,” and General Ulysses S. Grant valued the information she helped provide. After the war, Grant remembered her service. When he became president, he appointed Elizabeth Van Lew postmaster of Richmond, making her one of the first women in the United States to hold such a position.

As postmaster, Elizabeth used her authority to create opportunity. She intentionally hired Black men, including some who had helped the Union cause. Her work reflected her continued commitment to the Black community and to those who had risked everything for freedom.

​

But Richmond did not forgive her.

​

Elizabeth Van Lew was ostracized by many in the city. People crossed the street to avoid speaking to her. Her own church community turned away from her. When Grant left office and a new administration came into power, she lost her position as postmaster and the income that came with it. Many of her friends either died or moved North, and Richmond became a painful place for her to remain, especially as Confederate monuments rose across the city.

​

Still, the impact of her life could not be denied. Elizabeth Van Lew used privilege against the system that had benefited her. She chose conscience over comfort, loyalty to freedom over loyalty to the Confederacy, and sacrifice over social acceptance.

The Brick She Built

Elizabeth Van Lew built the brick of courageous conviction.

She was born into privilege, wealth, and status, but she refused to let comfort silence her conscience. She understood that what was accepted by society was not always righteous, and she was willing to stand against the expectations of her class, her city, her church, and her culture.

​

Her story reminds us that courage is not only found in public speeches or battlefield victories. Sometimes courage is hidden in coded messages, secret rooms, quiet acts of provision, and the willingness to be misunderstood.

​

Elizabeth also built the brick of strategic resistance. She used what she had—her home, her money, her education, her social access, and even the assumptions people made about her—to serve a greater cause. She understood that privilege could either protect injustice or be used to dismantle it.

​

Her life challenges us to ask what we are willing to risk for what is right. Elizabeth Van Lew lost reputation, comfort, income, friendships, and acceptance, but she did not lose her conviction. The brick she built was one of moral courage, sacrifice, and faithful resistance.

From Archive to Stage

Elizabeth Van Lew presented a unique challenge in this project. There is so much information about her life. Reading her diaries, along with several books and articles written about her, gave me an abundance of material. In truth, Elizabeth Van Lew could have her own full production. All of these women could.

​

But in Bricks Without Straw: Virginia’s Finest, I am tasked with offering a glimpse, a powerful snippet of each woman’s story. I also had to ask myself an important question: as an African American woman, how do I tell the story of a white woman who used her privilege, resources, and conviction to impact Black people and the cause of freedom in such a significant way?

​

I initially chose to tell much of Elizabeth Van Lew’s story through the eyes of Mary Jane Richards, a woman formerly enslaved by the Van Lew family who was later freed and became part of the Union spy network. At first, because I had access to far more information about Elizabeth Van Lew than I did about Mary Jane Richards, the piece leaned heavily toward Elizabeth’s story.

​

But as the research continued, the work changed.

​

I was able to read letters written by Mary Jane Richards, including a letter she wrote to Elizabeth Van Lew. Those letters gave me more context, more clarity, and more of Mary Jane’s own voice. They helped me understand the relationship between these two women in a deeper way.

​

That discovery required me to completely rewrite and transform the piece.

I did not want to whitewash the story. I did not want to center Elizabeth Van Lew in a way that erased or minimized the courage, intelligence, and sacrifice of Mary Jane Richards. I wanted to honor both women, not only for what they did together, but for who they were individually.

​

On stage, this became a story about power, privilege, partnership, risk, and remembrance. Elizabeth Van Lew used access, wealth, and social position to help advance the Union cause and support freedom seekers. Mary Jane Richards used brilliance, courage, mobility, and extraordinary risk to gather and carry information in spaces where her life was always in danger.

​

The archive reminded me that history is not only about who is most documented. It is also about who we choose to look for, listen for, and honor.

In telling Elizabeth Van Lew’s story, I wanted to acknowledge her sacrifice while also making room for Mary Jane Richards to stand fully in her own humanity. Their stories are connected, but they are not the same. Both women mattered. Both women risked something. Both women helped build a brick in the long road toward freedom.

Contact

I'm always looking for new and exciting opportunities. Let's connect.

123-456-7890 

bottom of page