Ten American Girls From History

It was the winter of 1835. Study hour was just over in one of Philadelphia's most famous "finishing schools" of that day, and half a dozen girls were still grouped around the big center-table piling their books up preparatory to going to their rooms for the night. Suddenly Catherine Holloway spoke.

"Listen, girls," she said; "Miss Smith says we are to have a real Debating Club, with officers and regular club nights, and all sorts of interesting subjects. Won't it be fun? And what do you suppose the first topic is to be?"

Books were dropped on the table, and several voices exclaimed in eager question, "What?"

"'Resolved: That Slavery be abolished.' And Betty Van Lew is to take the negative side!"

There was a chorus of suppressed "Oh-h-hs!" around the table, then some one asked, "Who is going to take the other side?"

The speaker shook her head. "I don't know," she said. "I hope it will be me. My, but it would be exciting to debate that question against Betty!"

"You would get the worst of it," said a positive voice. "There isn't a girl in school who knows what she thinks on any subject as clearly as Betty knows what she believes about slavery."

The speaker tossed her head. "You don't know much about it, if you think that!" she declared. "We Massachusetts colonists are just as sure on our side as she is on hers-and you all ought to be if you are not! Father says it is only in the cotton-raising States that they think the way Betty does, and we Northerners must stand firm against having human beings bought and sold like merchandise. I just hope I will be chosen on that debate against Betty."

She was, but she came off vanquished by the verbal gymnastics of her opponent, to whom the arguments in favor of slavery were as familiar as the principles of arithmetic, for Betty had heard the subject discussed by eloquent and interested men ever since she was able to understand what they were talking about.

Never did two opponents argue with greater fire and determination for a cause than did those two school-girls, pitted against each other in a discussion of a subject far beyond their understanding. So cleverly did the Virginia girl hold up her end of the debate against her New England opponent, and so shrewdly did she repeat all the arguments she had heard fall from Southern lips, that she sat down amid a burst of applause, having won her case, proudly sure that from that moment there would be no more argument against slavery among her schoolmates, for who could know more about it than the daughter of one of Richmond's leading inhabitants? And who could appreciate the great advantages of slavery to the slaves themselves better than one who owned them?

But Betty had not reckoned with the strength of the feeling among those Northerners with whose children she was associated. They had also heard many telling arguments at home on the side against that which Betty had won because she had complied so fully with the rules of debate; and she had by no means won her friends over to her way of thinking. Many a heated argument was carried on later in the Quaker City school over that question which was becoming a matter of serious difference between the North and the South.

Before the war for Independence slavery existed in all the States of the Union. After the war was over some of the States abolished slavery, and others would have followed their example had it not been for the invention of the cotton-gin, which made the owning of slaves much more valuable in the cotton-growing States. East of the Mississippi River slavery was allowed in the new States lying south of the Ohio, but forbidden in the territory north of the Ohio. When Missouri applied for admission into the Union, the question of slavery west of the Mississippi was discussed and finally settled by what was afterward called "The Missouri Compromise of 1820."

In 1818, two years before this Compromise was agreed upon, Elizabeth Van Lew was born in Richmond. As we have already seen, when she was seventeen, she was in the North at school. Doubtless Philadelphia had been chosen not only because of the excellence of the school to which she was sent, but also because the Quaker City was her mother's childhood home, which fact is one to be kept clearly in mind as one follows Betty Van Lew's later life in all its thrilling details.

For many months after her victory as a debater Betty's convictions did not waver-she was still a firm believer that slavery was right and best for all. Then she spent a vacation with a schoolmate who lived in a New England village, in whose home she heard arguments fully as convincing in their appeal to her reason as those to which she had listened at home from earliest childhood. John Van Lew, Betty's father, had ever been one of those Southerners who argued that in slavery lay the great protection for the negro-in Massachusetts Betty heard impassioned appeals for the freedom of the individual, of whatever race, and to those appeals her nature slowly responded as a result partly of her inheritance from her mother's Northern blood, and partly as a result of that keen sense of justice which was always one of her marked traits.

At the end of her school days in the North, Betty's viewpoint had so completely changed that she went back to her Richmond home an unwavering abolitionist, who was to give her all for a cause which became more sacred to her than possessions or life itself.

Soon after her return to Virginia she was visited by the New England friend in whose home she had been a guest, and to the Massachusetts girl, fresh from the rugged hills and more severe life of New England, Richmond was a fascinating spot, and the stately old mansion, which John Van Lew had recently bought, was a revelation of classic beauty which enchanted her.

The old mansion stood on Church Hill, the highest of Richmond's seven hills. "Across the way was St. John's, in the shadow of whose walls Elizabeth Van Lew grew from childhood. St. John's, which christened her and confirmed her, and later barred its doors against her." Behind the house at the foot of the hill stood "The Libby," which in years to come was to be her special care.... But this is anticipating our story. Betty Van Lew, full of the charm and enthusiasm of youth, had just come home from school, and with her had come the Northern friend, to whom the Southern city with its languorous beauty and warm hospitality was a wonder and a delight.

The old mansion stood close to the street, and "from the pavement two steep, curving flights of stone steps, banistered by curious old iron railings, ascended to either end of the square, white-pillared portico which formed the entrance to the stately Van Lew home with its impressive hall and great high-ceilinged rooms. And, oh! the beauty of the garden at its rear!"

Betty's friend reveled in its depths of tangled color and fragrance, as arm in arm the girls wandered down broad, box-bordered walks, from terrace to terrace by way of moss-grown stone stairs, deep sunk in the grassy lawn, and now and again the New England girl would exclaim:

"Oh, Betty, I can't breathe, it is all so beautiful!"

And indeed it was. "There were fig-trees, persimmons, mock orange, and shrubs ablaze with blossoms. The air was heavy with the sweetness of the magnolias, loud with the mocking-birds in the thickets, and the drone of insects in the hot, dry grass. And through the branches of the trees on the lower terrace one could get frequent glimpses of the James River, thickly studded with black rocks and tiny green islands." No wonder that the girl from the bleak North found it in her heart to thrill at the beauty of such a gem from Nature's jewel-casket as was that garden of the Van Lews'!

And other things were as interesting to her in a different way as the garden was beautiful. Many guests went to and from the hospitable mansion, and the little Northerner saw beautiful women and heard brilliant men talk intelligently on many subjects of vital import, especially on the all-important subject of slavery; of the men who upheld it, of its result to the Union. But more interesting to her than anything else were the slaves themselves, of whom the Van Lews had many, and who were treated with the kindness and consideration of children in a family.

"Of course, it is better for them!" declared Betty. "Everybody who has grown up with them knows that they simply can't take responsibility,-and yet!" There was a long pause, then Betty added, softly: "And yet, all human beings have a right to be free; I know it; and all the States of the Union must agree on that before there is any kind of a bond between them."

She spoke like an old lady, her arm leaning on the window-sill, with her dimpled chin resting in her hand, and as the moonlight gleamed across the window-sill, young as she was, in Betty Van Lew's face there was a gleam of that purpose which in coming years was to be her consecration and her baptism of fire, although a moment later the conversation of the girls had drifted into more frivolous channels, and a coming dance was the all-important topic.

As we know, when Missouri applied for admission into the Union, the slavery question was discussed and finally settled by the so-called "Missouri Compromise" in 1820. Now, in 1849, a new question began to agitate both North and South. Before that time the debate had been as to the abolishing of slavery, but the question now changed to "Shall slavery be extended? Shall it be allowed in the country purchased from Mexico?" As this land had been made free soil by Mexico, many people in the North insisted that it should remain free. The South insisted that the newly acquired country was the common property of the States, that any citizen might go there with his slaves, and that Congress had no power to prevent them. Besides this, the South also insisted that there ought to be as many slave States as free States. At that time the numbers were equal-fifteen slave States and fifteen free. Some threats were made that the slaveholding States would leave the Union if Congress sought to shut out slavery in the territory gained from Mexico.

That a State might secede, or withdraw from the Union, had long been claimed by a party led by John C. Calhoun, of South Carolina. Daniel Webster had always opposed this doctrine and stood as the representative of those who held that the Union could not be broken. Now, in 1850, Henry Clay undertook to end the quarrel between the States, and as a result there was a famous debate between the most notable living orators, Webster, Calhoun, and Clay, and a new compromise was made. It was called the Compromise of 1850, and it was confidently hoped would be a final settlement of all the troubles growing out of slavery. But it was not. With slow and increasing bitterness the feeling rose in both North and South over the mooted question, and slowly but surely events moved on toward the great crisis of 1860, when Abraham Lincoln was elected President of the United States.

"The Southern States had been hoping that this might be prevented, for they knew that Lincoln stood firmly for the abolition of slavery in every State in the Union, and that he was not a man to compromise or falter when he believed in a principle. So as soon as he was elected the Southern States began to withdraw from the Union, known as the United States of America. First went South Carolina, then Georgia, Florida, Alabama, Mississippi, and Louisiana. Then delegates from these States met in Montgomery, Alabama, and formed a new Union which they called the 'Confederate States of America,' with Jefferson Davis as its President. Then Texas joined the Confederacy, and events were shaping themselves rapidly for an inevitable culmination.

"When South Carolina withdrew there was within her boundary much property belonging to the United States, such as lighthouses, court-houses, post-offices, custom-houses, and two important forts, Moultrie and Sumter, which guarded the entrance to Charleston harbor, and were held by a small band of United States troops under the command of Major Robert Anderson.

"As soon as the States seceded a demand was made on the United States for a surrender of this property. The partnership called the Union, having been dissolved by the secession of South Carolina, the land on which the buildings stood belonged to the State, but the buildings themselves, being the property of the United States, should be paid for by the State, and an agent was sent to Washington to arrange for the purchase.

"Meanwhile, scenting grave trouble, troops were being enlisted and drilled, and Major Anderson, fearing that if the agent did not succeed in making the purchase the forts would be taken by force, cut down the flagstaff and spiked the guns at Fort Moultrie, and moved his men to Fort Sumter, which stood on an island in the harbor and could be more easily defended, and so the matter stood when Mr. Lincoln was inaugurated, March 4, 1861."

Fort Sumter was now in a state of siege. Anderson and his men could get no food from Charleston, while the troops of the Confederacy had planted cannon with which they could at any time fire on the fort. Either the troops must very soon go away or food must be sent them. Mr. Lincoln decided to send food. But when the vessels with food, men and supplies reached Charleston, they found that the Confederates had already begun to fire on Fort Sumter. Then, as Major Anderson related: "Having defended the Fort for thirty-four hours, until the quarters were entirely burned, the main gates destroyed by fire ... the magazine surrounded by flame, and its doors closed from the effects of heat, four barrels and three cartridges only being available, and no provisions remaining but pork, I accepted terms of evacuation offered by General Beauregard ... and marched out of the Fort, Sunday the 14th instant, with colors flying and drums beating."

When the news of the fall of Sumter reached the North, the people knew that all hope of a peaceable settlement of the dispute with the South was gone. Mr. Lincoln at once called for 75,000 soldiers to serve for three months, and the first gun of the Civil War had been fired.

While these momentous events were stirring both North and South, Betty Van Lew, in her Richmond home, was experiencing the delights of young womanhood in a city celebrated for its gaiety of social life. "There were balls and receptions in the great house, garden-parties in the wonderful garden, journeyings to the White Sulphur Springs, and other resorts of the day, in the coach drawn by six snowy horses," and all sorts of festivities for the young and light-hearted. Even in a city as noted for charming women as was Richmond, Betty Van Lew enjoyed an enviable popularity. To be invited to the mansion on the hill was the great delight of her many acquaintances, while more than one ardent lover laid his heart at her feet; but her pleasure was in the many rather than in the one, and she remained heart-whole while most of her intimate friends married and went to homes of their own. It is said that as she grew to womanhood, she was "of delicate physique and a small but commanding figure, brilliant, accomplished and resolute, with great personality and of infinite charm." At first no one took her fearless expression of opinion in regard to the slavery question seriously, coming as it did from the lips of such a charming young woman, but as time went on and she became more outspoken and more diligent in her efforts to uplift and educate the negroes, she began to be less popular, and to be spoken of as "queer and eccentric" by those who did not sympathize with her views.

Nevertheless, Richmond's first families still eagerly accepted invitations to the Van Lew mansion, and it was in its big parlor that Edgar Allan Poe read his poem, "The Raven," to a picked audience of Richmond's elect, there Jenny Lind sang at the height of her fame, and there as a guest came the Swedish novelist, Fredrika Bremer, and in later years came Gen. Ulysses S. Grant, whose admiration of Elizabeth Van Lew was unbounded because of her service to the Union.

Betty's father having died soon after she came from school, and her brother John being of a retiring disposition, Mrs. Van Lew and Betty did the honors of the stately house on the hill in a manner worthy of Southern society women, and as years went by and Betty became a woman, always when they had brilliant guests she listened carefully, saying little, but was fearlessly frank in her expression of opinion on vital subjects, when her opinion was asked.

"And now, Sumter had been fired on. Three days after the little garrison marched out of the smoking fort, Virginia seceded from the Union, and Richmond went war-mad. In poured troops from other States, and the beautiful Southern city became a vast military camp. Daily the daughters of the Confederacy met in groups to sew or knit for the soldiers, or to shoot at a mark with unaccustomed hands. One day a note was delivered at the Van Lew mansion, and opened by Mrs. Van Lew, who read it aloud to her daughter:

"'Come and help us make shirts for our soldiers. We need the immediate assistance of all our women at this critical time....'"

The silence in the room was unbroken except for the heart-beats of the two women facing a sure future, looking sadly into each other's eyes. Suddenly Elizabeth threw back her head proudly.

"Never!" she said. "Right is right. We must abide by the consequences of our belief. We will work for the Union or sit idle!"

The testing of Elizabeth Van Lew had come. Fearlessly she made her choice-fearlessly she took the consequences. From that moment her story is the story of the Federal Spy.