[1] Thomas Dunn English.
ELIZABETH VAN LEW: THE GIRL WHO RISKED ALL THAT SLAVERY MIGHT BE
ABOLISHED AND THE UNION PRESERVED
I
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.