Despite her bravery, Betty Van Lew's life was now in danger. There was urgent need of special protection for her. Feeling against the northern victors was at fever height in poor, desolated, defeated Richmond, and it is small wonder that one born in their city, who yet stood openly and fearlessly against all that the Southerners held sacred, should have been despised, and worse than that. Realizing her danger, and knowing the priceless service she had rendered the Union generals in the four long years of the war, Colonel Parke, with a force of men, was sent to protect the Spy. To the General's utter amazement they did not find her in the old house. She was found in the deserted Capitol, ransacking it for documents which she feared might be destroyed and which would be a loss to the Government. As "Crazy Bet" and as a Union Spy, Betty Van Lew's long and remarkable service of her country was ended. The Confederacy was dissolved, and again the flag of the United States of America could rightfully wave from every building in the land. At the beginning of the war, when Betty took on herself the role of Federal Secret Service agent, she was light of heart, alert of body and mind. Now, for four years, she had born a heavy burden of fear and of crushing responsibility, for the sake of a cause for which she was willing to sacrifice comfort, wealth and other things which the average woman counts dear, and her heart and brain were weary. Two weeks after the inauguration of Grant as President of the United States, as a reward for her faithful service, he appointed Betty Van Lew postmistress of Richmond. Well she knew that her enemies would declare the appointment a reward for her services against the Confederacy, and that it would but make her more of an alien in Richmond than ever she had been before. But she was desperately poor, so she accepted the position and for eight years filled it efficiently. When she came in contact with old friends from time to time in a business way, they were politely cold, and in her diary she writes: "I live, as entirely distinct from the citizens as if I were plague-stricken. Rarely, very rarely, is our door-bell ever rung by any but a pauper or those desiring my service." She adds: "September, 1875, my Mother was taken from me by death. We had not friends enough to be pall-bearers." When Grant had been succeeded by Hayes as President of the United States, the one-time Spy was obliged to ask for his aid: "I am hounded down"--she wrote to his private Secretary. "I never, never was so bitterly persecuted; ask the President to protect me from this unwarranted, unmerited, and unprecedented persecution."