tered 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.

"I know you--and you--and you!" s