“Frank stepped forward. He was five foot six, two inches shorter than the average Union army recruit, solid but thin. He told the doctor he was nineteen years old, twenty come December. The doctor’s eyes skimmed his shoulders and back, torso and legs. He coiled his fingers around Frank’s wrist and lifted up his hand. He turned it over as if it were a tarot card, studying its nuances, noting the absence of calluses, the smooth palm, the slim and tapered fingers…[T]he doctor marked Frank Thompson fit to serve as a private for Company F, 2nd Michigan Infantry. Frank took the oath of allegiance to the United States…He assured himself that this was a calling, that he had to do what he could ‘for the defense of the right,’ and that if he was careful no one would discover his secret: Frank Thompson was really Emma Edmondson, and had been posing as a man for two years…”
- Karen Abbott, Liar Temptress Soldier Spy: Four Women Undercover in the Civil War
Anyone who has spent time around children knows that they ask really fundamental questions. Specifically: Why? Why?
WHY???
This can be excessively annoying. It can also serve to test basic assumptions about how much we know.
Recently, I was watching an episode of Blood & Fury, a Civil War documentary, with my six year-old daughter, Emilia. While we sat on the couch, Emilia asked: “Were there any girls in the Civil War?”
“Sure,” I said confidently. Then I rattled off a few names: Dorothea Dix, superintendent of nurses; Clara Barton, nurse extraordinaire; and Mary Chestnut, the famed diarist. Emilia was partially interested, especially in Chestnut. Like Chestnut, Emilia is an inveterate journal-writer. Indeed, my wife found a discarded page from her diary that said: “This is my Dad[’s] favorite thing[:] it is the Civil War.”
(Note: This is not entirely true. She is my favorite thing. The Civil War is top ten).
Still, I could tell the answer was not enough. Finally, a bit frustrated with my attempts to explain the U.S. Sanitation Commission, Emilia blurted out: “No, I mean did any girls fight in the war?”
Yes, I answered resolutely. And when Emilia asked me to explain, I sort of trailed off…
Like I said, kids test our basic assumptions of what we know. I pride myself in Civil War knowledge, and yet it only took a six year-old five minutes to derail that knowledge train.
That’s what led me to Karen Abbott’s Liar Temptress Soldier Spy, the story of four remarkable women and their experiences in the American Civil War. Importantly, none of these four women conformed to contemporary gender norms. They were not, for the most part, caretakers or observers. They partook in the action. Two of them went to the front lines. Two of them killed. One of them gave her life for her cause. This is a side of the Civil War I had not experienced before.
The four women that we follow are Confederates Belle Boyd and Rose O’Neal Greenhow, and Unionists Emma Edmonson (a.k.a., Emma Edmonds, a.k.a. Frank Thompson) and Elizabeth Van Lew.
Belle Boyd is a name you might recognize, which is how she would have wanted it. A young girl at the start of the war, she killed a Yankee that insulted her mom, and later made a name for herself as a spy, though her exploits seem more the product of self-promotion (and a great, alliterative name) than the accumulation of actionable intelligence. Of all the women, she has the least substance. She was most motivated by fame, excitement, and the whims of her passions, attested to by the fact that she actually ended up marrying two different Union men.
Marrying a Yank is something that Rose Greenhow never would have deigned to consider. She hated them with all the passion of her being. For my money, she is the most interesting, and also the most awful, of Abbott’s four subjects. She is truly the villain of the piece. A successful spy, a prisoner, and later a Confederate emissary to Europe, she was also a poisonous racists, and a bit of an anti-Semite to boot. Rose wore her hypocrisy lightly, armored as she was in a noxious self-righteousness. Her fate was an almost biblical combination of sea and storm and tainted Confederate gold.
On the Union side, we have Emma Edmonson, a young woman who enlisted as a man, managed to remain undetected, and served in a variety of roles, including nurse, spy, and postmaster. At one point, she dyed her skin and snuck into Yorktown disguised as a black man. At another time, she claimed to have dressed up as a poor Irish woman in order to gather intelligence, meaning she was a woman, dressed as a man, pretending to be a woman (with a brogue!). It calls to mind Robert Downey, Jr., in Tropic Thunder: “I know who I am! I’m a dude playing a dude disguised as another dude!” Despite her fascinating exploits, I found her sections to be the biggest letdown.
Finally, there is Elizabeth Van Lew, perhaps the least known of the four, and also possibly the best of the bunch. A wealthy woman who lived in Richmond, she was a Unionist and abolitionist who risked her life and dispensed her fortune attempting to help Union soldiers escape from Libby Prison. In her spare time, she also ran a successful spy ring. General Ulysses Grant was so pleased with her efforts that he appointed her postmaster of Richmond during his administration. She lived long enough to see a statue of Robert E. Lee erected in town, while her name drifted into obscurity.
Liar Temptress Soldier Spy is almost a can’t-miss proposition. The women chronicled here are inherently fascinating, ideologues and iconoclasts who cared so deeply in what they did that they were willing to bend societal norms even before they risked their very lives.
Abbott tells their stories in chronological fashion, alternating chapters as the war progresses. She writes in a novelistic style, right down to the thoughts in each woman’s head (which Abbott insists she derives from primary sources). This makes for an incredibly readable book, one that I finished quite fast. There are things to learn here, even if you’ve read a dozen books on Gettysburg and know every hair on Bob Lee’s beard.
Still, this had its shortcomings.
Abbott never specifically states (or at least I did not see) why she chose these four women in particular. My deduction is that it’s a function of extant documentation. Boyd, Greenhow, Edmonson, and Lew all wrote memoirs, providing first person accounts of their war years. Unfortunately, at times, it felt like Abbott was simply paraphrasing these memoirs, right down to the ragged transitions and glaring plot holes.
There were also many instances when an incident is passed off as the truth, when it is likely an exaggeration, a fabrication, or an outright lie. Abbott seldom pauses in her narrative to give you a BS warning. Instead, you have to go to the back of the book, to the endnotes, where she will sometimes provide amplification. However, in keeping with this book’s popular bent, it has no endnote numbers in the text, meaning there is absolutely no indication when you should be flipping towards the end.
More importantly, in choosing a pure narrative style, I feel like Abbott missed out on a grand opportunity to explore these women’s interior lives. In the rush to deliver a fast-paced, breathtaking tale, something gets lost. To be sure, she tells us exactly what happened to them; unfortunately, she never gets around to exploring why. Questions of desire, of motivation, are never posed.
For instance, the chapters on Emma/Frank were sorely disappointing. Emma started dressing as Frank two years before she enlisted, meaning her act was not simple martial ardor. Yet this aspect is never discussed. Was she conflicted about her gender identity? Was she simply exploring some facet of her personality? Who knows? Functional details, such as how Emma was able to convince everyone she was a man, even when she had to go to the bathroom multiple times a day, are completely glossed over. I wanted some idea of how a woman could survive in the ranks surrounded by men. I did not get that here.
I think Liar Temptress Soldier Spy could have been considerably deeper and richer. It provides the raw materials for a really insightful look into societal expectations of the 19th century, something that would still resonate powerfully today. Rose Greenhow, for instance, could not legally vote or enlist, but she also recognized that the chivalry and deference she was accorded due to her sex could be weaponized, made into a tool to achieve her ends. In fact, to a certain extent, all four women took advantage of the perceptions about them as women. They turned assumptions of frailty into strength; assumptions of pacifism into ruthlessness; assumptions of timidity into courage.
It is an inspiring story. Abbott tells it well. I wish she had told it better.