Part 17

"Be prepared with oakum, turpentine, and torpedoes. Destroy everything that can be used by the rebels. Shoot horses and cattle, destroy the railroads and the canal, burn the city, leave only the hospitals, and kill Jeff Davis and his Cabinet."

A dangerous plan indeed! Small wonder that when its details became known in their diabolical cruelty, the people of Richmond cried out for revenge, and the hanging of the prisoners; but this was not heeded by the officials, who had a saner judgment.

The raid had failed! Ulric Dahlgren had lost his life in a daring attempt to which he was evidently urged by Betty Van Lew and the so-called Quaker. Bit by bit the reasons for its failure filtered through to the Spy, chief of which was the treachery of Dahlgren's guide, by which the forces of the raiders, after separating in two parts for the attack, lost each other and were never able to unite. The brave, crippled young commander riding fearlessly on to within five miles of the city into the ambush, his command falling under the volley of shots from a hidden enemy--when these details reached Betty Van Lew her anguish was unbearable, for she had counted on success instead of failure. And now, there was work to do! Pacing the floor, she made her plans, and with swift daring carried them out.

Dahlgren was buried on the very spot where he fell; but a few days later the body was taken to Richmond by order of the Confederate government, where it lay for some hours at the York River railroad station. Then, at midnight, it was taken away by the city officials and buried, no one knew where. But Betty Van Lew says in her diary: "The heart of every Unionist was stirred to its depths ... and to discover the hidden grave and remove his honored dust to friendly care was decided upon."

Admiral Dahlgren, father of the unfortunate colonel, sent one hundred dollars in gold to Jefferson Davis, asking that the body of his son be sent to him. The order was at once given to the chief of police, with the added command to have the body placed in a decent coffin; but when the police went to carry out the order, taking with them the soldiers who had buried Dahlgren, the grave was empty!

Through the daring act of Secret Service agents, doubtless, and of Betty Van Lew's assistants, on a bitter cold and stormy night, two Union sympathizers went out to the grave, the location of which had been cleverly discovered by the Unionists. The body of young Dahlgren was quickly taken up and carried to a work-shop belonging to Mr. William Rowley, who lived a short distance in the country. He watched over the remains all night, and during the hours of darkness more than one Union sympathizer stole out to the shop to pay their last respects to the pathetic young victim of the attempted raid. At dawn the body was placed in a metallic coffin and put on a wagon, under a load of young peach-trees, which entirely concealed the casket. Then Mr. Rowley, who was a man of iron nerves and great courage, jumped to the driver's seat and bravely drove the wagon with its precious freight out of Richmond, past the pickets, without the visible trembling of an eye-lash to betray his dangerous mission.

"As he had feared, at the last picket post, he was stopped and challenged. His wagon must be searched. Was his brave hazard lost? As he waited for the search to be made which would sign his death warrant, one of the guards recognized him as an old acquaintance, and began a lively conversation with him. Other wagons came up, were searched, and went on. Presently the Lieutenant came from his tent and called to the guard to 'Search that man and let him go!'

"The guard looked with interest at the well-packed load, and remarked that it would be a shame to tear up those trees.

"Rowley gave no sign of fear or nervousness. Nonchalantly he said that he had not expected them to be disturbed, but that he knew a soldier's duty.

"Another wagon drove up, was searched, and sent on. Again the Lieutenant gave an order to 'search the man so that he can go!' Could anything save him now? Rowley wondered. If he had not been a born actor he would have shown some sign of the terrible strain he was under as he waited for the discovery of his hidden burden.

"A moment of agonizing suspense, then the guard said, in a low voice, 'Go on!' and Rowley, without search, went on with his concealed burden.

"Meanwhile, two accomplices had flanked the picket, and they presently joined Rowley and showed him the way to a farm not far away, where a grave was hastily dug and the coffin lowered into it. Two loyal women helped to fill it in, and planted over it one of the peach-trees which had so successfully prevented discovery. So ended the Dahlgren raid--and so the Spy had been foiled in one of the most daring and colossal plots with which she was connected. Because of the stealing of the young Colonel's body, Admiral Dahlgren's wish could not be complied with until after the war."

The raid had failed, and with the return of spring, the Union Army was closing in around Richmond, which made it an easier matter for Betty Van Lew to communicate with the Union generals, especially with General Grant, through his Chief of Secret Service. As the weary months wore away, more than once the Spy was in an agony of suspense, when it seemed as if some one of her plots was about to bring a revelation of her secret activities; as if disclosure by some traitor was inevitable; but in every case she was saved from danger, and was able to continue her work for the Union.

And now the Confederate forces were ransacking the South in search of horses, of which they were sorely in need. The Spy quickly hid her one remaining animal in the smoke-house, but it was not safe there. Confederate agents were prowling about the city, searching every building in which a horse could be secreted. In the dead of night Betty Van Lew led her steed, with feet wrapped in cloths to prevent noise, from the smoke-house into the old mansion itself, and stabled it in the study, where she had covered the floor with a thick layer of straw to deaden any sound of stamping hoofs. And the horse in his palatial residence was not discovered.

General Grant was now at the head of all the armies of the United States, and to him was given the duty of attacking Lee. General Sherman was at the head of a large force in the West, and his duty was to crush the force of General Johnston.

On the fourth of May, 1864, each general began his task. Sherman attacked Johnston, and step by step drove him through the mountains to Atlanta, where Johnston was removed, and his army from that time was led by General Hood. After trying in vain to beat Sherman, he turned and started toward Tennessee, hoping to draw Sherman after him. But he did not succeed; Sherman sent Thomas, the "Rock of Chickamauga," to deal with Hood, and in December he destroyed Hood's army in a terrible battle at Nashville. Meanwhile Sherman started to march from Atlanta to the sea, his army advancing in four columns, covering a stretch of country miles wide. They tore up the railroads, destroyed the bridges, and finally occupied Savannah. There Sherman stayed for a month, during which his soldiers became impatient. Whenever he passed them they would shout: "Uncle Billy, I guess Grant is waiting for us in Richmond!" And on the first of February they resumed their march to North Carolina.

Grant, meanwhile, had begun his attack on Lee, on the same day that Sherman had marched against Johnston. Starting from a place called Culpepper Court House, Grant's army entered the Wilderness, a tract of country covered with a dense growth of oak and pine, and after much hard fighting closed in around Richmond, laying siege to Petersburg. Bravely Lee and his gallant men resisted the Union forces until April, 1865, when, foreseeing the tragic end ahead, Lee left Richmond and marched westward. Grant followed, and on the ninth of April Lee surrendered his army at Appomattox Court House. Johnston surrendered to Sherman near Raleigh, in North Carolina, about two weeks later, and in May Jefferson Davis was taken prisoner.

This ended the war. The Confederacy fell to pieces, and the Union was saved. "In the hearts of all Union sympathizers was a passionate exultation that the United States was once again under one government; but what a day of sorrowing was that for loyal Southerners!"

It is said that on Sunday, the second of April, when the end was in sight, children took their places in the Sunday Schools, and congregations gathered as usual in the churches, united in their fervent prayers for their country and their soldiers. The worshipping congregation of St. Paul's Church was disturbed by the sight of a messenger who walked up the middle aisle to the pew where Jefferson Davis was sitting, spoke hastily to him, then went briskly out of the church. What could it mean?

"Ah!" says an historian, "the most sadly memorable day in Richmond's history was at hand ... the day which for four long years had hung over the city like a dreadful nightmare had come at last. The message had come from General Lee of the order to evacuate Richmond! Beautiful Richmond to be evacuated! It was like the knell of doom.

"President Davis and the other officers of the Confederate government hastily prepared to leave, and to carry such records and stores as they were able. The officers of the State government and the soldiers were preparing to march. The news of the evacuation swept over the city, spreading dismay and doom as it went. The people began to collect their valuables and hide them or pack them to carry to a place of safety, if any such place could be found; and throughout the city there were scenes of indescribable confusion. The streets were blocked with furniture and other goods which people were trying to move. All government store-houses were thrown open, and what could not be carried away was left to be plundered by those who rushed in to get bacon, clothing, or whatever they could take. The Confederate troops were rapidly moving toward the South.... At one o'clock it became known that under the law of the Confederate Congress all the tobacco and cotton in the city had been ordered burned to keep it out of the hands of the enemy. In vain the Mayor sent a committee to remonstrate against burning the warehouses. No heed was paid to the order, and soon tongues of lurid flame were leaping from building to building, until the conflagration was beyond all control. Men and women were like frenzied demons in their efforts to save property; there was terrific looting. Wagons and carts were hastily loaded with goods; some carried their things in wheel-barrows, some in their arms. Women tugged at barrels of flour, and children vainly tried to move boxes of tobacco. The sidewalks were strewn with silks, satins, bonnets, fancy goods, shoes, and all sorts of merchandise. There was no law and there were no officers; there was only confusion, helpless despair on every side. Before sunrise there was a terrific explosion which shook the whole city; the magazine back of the poorhouse was blown up.... At six o'clock in the morning the evacuation was complete, and the railroad bridges were set on fire."

The conflagration was at its height when the vanguard of the Federal army entered the city, the cavalry galloping at full speed.

"Which is the way to the Capitol?" they shouted, then dashed up Governor Street, while a bitter wail rose from the people of Richmond. "The Yankees! The Yankees! Oh, the Yankees have taken our city!"

As the cry went up, a United States flag was unfurled over the Capitol. At once General Weitzel took command and ordered the soldiers to stop all pillaging and restore order to the city; but it was many hours before the command could be fully carried out. Then and only then did the exhausted, panic-stricken, heart-sick people fully realize the hideous disaster which had come to their beloved city; only when they saw the destruction and desolation wrought by the fire did they fully grasp the awful meaning of the cry, "On to Richmond!" which for four long years had been the watch-word of the Union forces.

And how fared it with the Federal Spy during those hours of anguish for all true Southerners? Betty Van Lew, who had been in close touch with the Union generals, had for some time foreseen the coming climax of the four years' struggle, and weeks earlier she had sent north to General Butler for a huge American flag, eighteen feet long by nine wide, which in some unknown way was successfully carried into Richmond without detection by the picket guard, and safely secreted in the hidden chamber under the Van Lew roof.

And now General Lee had surrendered. Virginia was again to be a State of the Union; came a messenger fleet of foot, cautious of address, bringing breathless tidings to the Spy: "Your house is to be burned--the Confederate soldiers say so. What can you do to prevent it?"

Even as she listened to his excited words, Betty Van Lew's heart was throbbing with joyful excitement, despite the uproar in the city from the constant explosion of shells, the sound of the blowing up of gun-boats in the harbor, and of the powder magazines, which was shaking the foundations of the city, as red flames leaped across the black sky. Even then there was in the heart of the Spy a wild exultation. "Oh, army of my country, how glorious was your welcome!" she exclaims in her diary.

She heard the news that her home was about to be burned. With head erect and flashing eyes she went out alone and stood on the white-pillared portico, a fearless little figure, defying the mob who were gathering to destroy the old mansion which was so dear to her.