At St. Vincent the heroine was attacked _Female Warriors, Vol. 2 (of 2) Memorials of Female Valour and Heroism, from the Mythological Ages to the Present Era.

being the first time in her life that she was ever laid prostrate by an

illness, her sex was soon made known. On her recovery she was obliged

to resume (or rather put on) female habilaments. But being still

enamoured of a soldier's life, she married, in May, 1801, a private

in the 37th, named Taylor. She followed her husband through various

climates; and in time became the mother of three children. She was

imprisoned for two years with her husband in France, and they were only

set free at the general peace of July, 1815. Her husband died the same

day they landed in England; leaving his widow in great distress.

During the course of her military career, Mrs. Taylor visited the East

and West Indies, and fought in Flanders, Spain, Italy, and Egypt.

She received many wounds, none of which, however, were serious,

though they left their scars all over her body. Her head was graced

by a sabre-wound, while her leg showed where a musket-ball had been

extracted. Yet despite the dangers and hardships of war, this woman

sighed after the life of a soldier to the very last. She said that the

only really miserable part of her life was the two years' imprisonment

in France; which, she said, did her constitution more harm than even

the terrible march, under a blazing African sun, from the Red Sea

to Egypt. Like a brave old veteran, she kept up her spirits even in

adversity, "fought her battles o'er again," and loved to "shoulder her

crutch and show how fields were won." Like most old soldiers, she was

very fond of relating anecdotes about her past career--the battles she

had fought in, the wounds she had received, and the various noble or

distinguished officers she had seen.

* * * * *

Another of these British heroines was Mary Anne Talbot, who served

as drummer-boy in the 82nd regiment when it was despatched to the

Netherlands in 1793. The career of this young woman was so romantic,

so very much out of the ordinary routine of every-day life, it is

strange that her story has not become more generally known--especially

as a long and detailed memoir was published, which she was supposed to

have written herself.

Mary Anne Talbot was born in a house in Lincoln's Inn Fields on the 2nd

February, 1778, and was the youngest of sixteen natural children, whom

her mother, whose name has not transpired, had by the Earl of Talbot.

Until she had reached the age of five, Mary Anne was kept at nurse at

a little village about twelve miles from Shrewsbury. Her mother died

when she was an infant; and at the death of Lord Talbot, Mary Anne was

removed to a boarding-school in Foregate-street, Chester. Here she

remained for nine years under the care of her only surviving sister,

Mrs. Wilson. On the death of Mrs. Wilson, Mr. Sucker, of Newport,

Shropshire, came forward as guardian of Mary Anne Talbot. He was a

harsh man, and treated her so cruelly that she trembled at the sound

of his voice. She had not been in her new home very long when Essex

Bowen, a captain in the 82nd, appeared at the house; and the girl was

commanded by Sucker to consider him as her future guardian, under whose

protection she was to finish her education on the continent.

Early in the year 1792 they proceeded to London and stopped at the

Salopian coffee-house, Charing Cross; where, taking advantage of

the poor girl's friendless situation, Captain Bowen acted the part

of a villain. Immediately after this the 82nd was ordered to the

West Indies; and the captain forced his victim to dress herself as a

foot-boy and follow him. By his directions, too, she assumed the name

of John Taylor. They sailed on the 20th March, from Falmouth, in the

Crown Transport; and during the voyage her tyrant used her like a

slave, and forced her to eat and drink with the common sailors.

Early in the following year the regiment was remanded to Europe, to

join the army of the Duke of York at Tournay. Bowen again intimidating

the forlorn girl by the threat of sending her up the country to be sold

for a slave, compelled her to enlist under him as a drummer, though he

plainly told her that this would not release her from her duties as his

servant.

When they arrived in Flanders, Mary Anne was obliged to endure all the

horrors of war. During the frequent skirmishes which took place between

the English and French, she was compelled to keep up a continuous

roll of the drum to drown the groans and cries of wounded and dying

comrades. On the 2nd of June, the Duke of York besieged Valenciennes;

within a few days of its surrender, the female drummer received two

wounds--one from a musket-ball which glanced between her collar-bone

and breast-bone, and struck one of her ribs, the other in the small of

her back from the sabre of an Austrian trooper, who mistook her for a

Frenchman. Being in dread and fear lest her sex should be discovered,

she had the fortitude to conceal her wounds, and cure them herself by

the use of some lint, Dutch drops and basilicon.

Captain Bowen had the reward of his villainy and tyranny, by being

slain during the attack on Valenciennes, July 25th, 1793. Having no

longer the wrath of a tyrant to fear, Mary Anne disguised herself as

a sailor boy, deserted from the regiment, and started for the coast.

Carefully avoiding all towns or large villages, she reached Luxembourg,

which being in the hands of the French, hindered her further progress.

She was compelled, through sheer want, to hire herself to the captain

of a French lugger. The vessel turned out to be a privateer, and

cruised about the Channel for four months. Mary Anne was compelled to

do all the rough work. At last the vessel was captured by the British

fleet, and the crew were taken prisoners on board the "Queen Charlotte"

to be examined by the admiral, Lord Howe. Previous to their capture,

Mary Anne was severely beaten because she refused to fight against her

countrymen.

Lord Howe questioned Mary Anne as to who and what she was, and how she

had got on board a French ship. She stated, in explanation, that she

had been foot-boy to an English gentleman travelling on the continent,

that on his death she had been obliged to seek employment, and had

taken Le Sage the French captain, for an honest trader. The Admiral was

satisfied; and the girl was sent on board the "Brunswick" man-of-war,

where she was appointed powder-monkey on the quarter-deck. Her cleanly

habits, and her quiet respectful demeanour, attracted the notice of

Captain Harvey, who raised her to the post of principal cabin boy.

The "Brunswick" having fallen in with a French ship, in June, 1794, a

sharp action ensued, in which Captain Harvey was slain, and Mary Anne

received a grape-shot in the ankle of her left leg. So severe was the

wound that, though she tried three several times to rise, the broken

bone protruding through the skin gave her such agony she fell back

almost fainting. A few minutes after this a musket-ball pierced her

thigh, just above the knee of the same leg. After the engagement she

was carried to the cock-pit, and after numberless attempts had been

made to extract the grape-shot (inflicting excruciating agony all the

while on the sufferer), the surgeons were obliged to leave it where it

was, fearful of cutting the tendons of the leg.

When the "Brunswick" arrived at Spithead, Mary Anne Talbot was placed

in Haslar Hospital, where she was attended as an out-door patient

during four months. She lived meanwhile on the money which Captain

Harvey had given her. When she was at last discharged from the

Hospital, she went as a midshipman on board the "Vesuvius," which

formed part of Sir Sydney Smith's squadron. After cruising some time on

the coast of France the "Vesuvius" sailed to Gibraltar and back again

without meeting the enemy until near Dunkirk, where she was boarded and

captured by two privateers, after keeping up a running fight for seven

hours.

Mary Anne and another middy named William Richards were taken on board

one of the privateers, and imprisoned for eighteen months in Dunkirk,

where they were treated very harshly--being allowed nothing but bread

and water, and a bed of straw which was never changed. An exchange of

prisoners took place at last; and Mary Anne Talbot was engaged almost

immediately after by a Captain Field to go as ship's steward on a

voyage to America.

She sailed from Dunkirk on board the "Ariel," August, 1796, and arrived

in due time at New York. During her stay there she resided in the

family of Captain Field at Rhode Island; and the pretty niece of the

captain was so absurd as to fall in love with her uncle's steward.

Before Mary Anne's departure she was obliged to pay eighteen dollars

for a portrait of herself in the uniform of an American officer to give

to her affianced as a memento.

The "Ariel" dropped anchor in the Thames in November, 1796; and some

days after their arrival, Mary Anne and the mate went on shore, where

they were seized by the press-gang. To obtain her freedom she was

obliged to reveal her sex.

Mary Anne applied several times at the Navy-Pay Office for moneys due

to her for service on board the "Brunswick" and "Vesuvius." One day

she became abusive, and was taken to Bow Street Police Court; whence

of course she was very soon discharged. Several gentlemen who were in

court made up a subscription, the amount of which was twelve shillings

a week, to last until she received her pension from Somerset House.

Mary Anne Talbot wasted her money shamefully at the theatres and at

certain public-houses near Covent Garden, where her real sex was not

even suspected; all her friends giving her the name of _bon compagnon_.

In February, 1797, owing to her fondness for grog, the grape-shot

worked itself out of her ankle, and left her leg in so bad a state that

she was taken into St. Bartholomew's Hospital. After her discharge she

was attended in different hospitals by several medical men, none of

whom were able to effect a permanent cure. She became at last so famous

that a beggar was sent to the House of Correction charged with passing

himself off as John Taylor, the midshipman. In 1799, she became, for

the second time, an inmate of Middlesex Hospital.

For some years her principal support was a pension of twenty pounds

a year from the Crown; besides this she received frequent presents

from the Duke of York, the Duke of Norfolk, and other members of the

nobility. She was advised by Justice Bond, the magistrate of Bow

Street, to endeavour to find out something about her early life. She

went to Shrewsbury and called on Mr. Sucker, in Newport. Being unable

to procure an interview while in "coloured" clothes, she returned to

Shrewsbury, dressed herself in an ensign's uniform, hired a horse, and

rode back to Mr. Sucker's. She sent in word that an officer, a friend

of the late Captain Bowen, had an important message to deliver. This

_ruse_ succeeded; she declared who she was, and, drawing her sword,

demanded an explanation of Mr. Sucker's conduct towards her. He stared

as though an apparition had risen from the grave, and, trembling

violently, repeated that he was a ruined man. Three days after this he

was found dead in his bed.

Mary Anne Talbot lived for many years after this, maintaining herself

in various ways. At one time she thought of going on the stage,

and joined the Thespian Society in Tottenham Court Road; where she

performed the parts of Irene, Lady Helen, Juliet, Floranthe, and

Adeline, and sometimes appeared in low comedy as Mrs. Scout, or Jack

Hawser. However, she gave up the stage, which was to her more amusing

than profitable.

Once she was summoned before the Commissioners of the Stamp Office

for wearing hair-powder without a licence. But she was honourably

discharged; whereupon she made the observation that "although she had

never worn powder as an article of dress, she had frequently used it in

defence of her King and country." The clerks were so tickled with her

wit that they immediately made up a subscription.

* * * * *

In June, 1796, the British attacked the New Vigie, in the Island of

St. Vincent. The Royal Highlanders were conspicuous for their valour,

as Highlanders have ever been. Major-General Stewart, at that time a

captain in the regiment, relates how one of the men of his company

was followed to the scene of action by his wife. He (Captain Stewart)

ordered the man to remain behind and guard the knapsacks, which the

soldiers threw down preparatory to charging up the hill. The woman,

however, perhaps thinking that the family honour was at stake, rushed

up the hill, and made herself conspicuous, cheering and exciting the

troops. When the British had captured the third redoubt, Captain

Stewart was standing at a short distance, giving some directions

relative to the storming of the last entrenchments, when he was tapped

on the shoulder by the female Highlander, who seized his arm, and

exclaimed:

"Well done, my Highland lads! See how the brigands scamper like so many

deer! Come, lads, let us drive them from yonder hill."

And she charged off again, much to the delight of her Gaelic

brothers-in-arms. When the storm was over, she helped the surgeons in

looking after the wounded.

* * * * *

During the Irish Rebellion of '98, women very often risked their lives

both on the battle-field and in the defence of houses. Amongst the

latter was Susan Frost, a Suffolk woman, nurse to General Sir Charles

James Napier. During the temporary absence of the Napier family in

England, this woman remained at Celbridge House, in Ireland, with a

few of the younger children. The "Defenders" having ascertained that

this mansion contained a great number of arms, surrounded it one night.

The only persons in the house, besides Susan and the children, were

a few maids and Lauchlin Moore, an old serving-man. The rebels, who

numbered several hundreds, anticipated an easy capture; but the house

was strongly built, and, besides, was defended by Susan Frost, of

whose obstinate courage they were as yet ignorant. Collecting all the

children together in one room, she stationed herself with a brace of

pistols outside the door. The "Defenders" called on the little garrison

to surrender; but Lauchlin Moore, acting under the orders of Susan,

shouted out defiant refusals. Every time he passed a window, volleys of

shot whizzed around his head.

When the assailants began to batter the door with a beam of wood,

Moore's courage failed him, and he wished to give up the arms. But

Susan invariably answered "No! No! Never! Never!" At last the arrival

of some men-servants, from a neighbouring mansion, put the rebels to

flight.

Another heroine of the Irish Rebellion was Peggy Monro, who fought

bravely in the battle of Ballinahinch, where the rebels were commanded

by her brother.

* * * * *

At the latter end of 1797 the French invaded Switzerland, with the

ostensible view of spreading liberty, equality, and fraternity.

However, in place of being welcomed by the republican Swiss, they were

met on all sides by armed peasants who defended every foot of ground

before giving way. The women acted with the same courage as the men.

The most conspicuous was Martha Glar, a peasant-woman. When the war

broke out she was far from young; being then in her sixty-fourth year,

and having both children and grandchildren.

In February, 1798, her husband marched with the rest of the farmers and

peasants to check the advance of the French. On the last Sunday in the

month, Martha collected all the women and girls of the parish in the

church-yard, half an hour before divine service, and addressed them

in an impressive oration, inciting them to take up arms in defence of

their native land.

Two hundred and sixty women, urged by her patriotism, armed themselves,

and marched to meet the invaders. In this little regiment were two of

Martha Glar's daughters, and three of her grand-daughters, the youngest

of whom was only ten years old. After exciting the admiration of both

friends and foes by their extraordinary bravery, this female corps was

decimated in the battle of Frauenbrun, March 3rd, 1798. One hundred

and eighty of them were killed, and the rest carried, more or less

wounded, from the field. Martha Glar, together with her husband, her

father, her two sons, both her daughters, her brother, and her three

grand-daughters were amongst the slain.

In 1806, when Prussia was arming against the "Colossus of Europe," the

Queen, who was young, beautiful, and fascinating, appeared several

times at the head of the troops attired in a military uniform, which,

it is said, became her exceedingly well; and in this costume she made

fiery speeches inciting the people to rise against the "Modern Attila."

Besides this display of martial ardour, the Queen, mounted on a superb

charger, accompanied the Prussian army to the field of Jena, Oct. 14th,

1806, and remained in the midst of the fight till her troops were

routed. On her head she wore a helmet of burnished steel, overshadowed

by a magnificent plume. She wore a tunic of silver brocade, reaching

to her feet, which were encased in scarlet boots with gold spurs.

Her breast was protected by a cuirass glittering in gold and silver.

Accompanied by the _élite_ of the young Berlin nobility, she rode along

in front of the most advanced ranks, whence, the day being clear,

she was easily seen by the French. As she approached each regiment,

the flags, embroidered by her own fair hands, besides the blackened

rags--all that remained of the time-honoured banners of Frederick the

Great--were lowered respectfully.

When the battle was over and the Prussians in full rout, the Queen

remained on the field, attended by three or four equerries, who, for

some time, contrived to defend her against the French troops, who

had strict orders to capture the Queen at all risks. A squadron of

hussars riding up at full speed soon dispersed the little escort of

her Majesty. The horse ridden by the Queen fortunately took fright,

and galloped off at full speed. Had it not been for his swiftness, the

royal heroine would inevitably have been captured.

Pursued by the detachment of hussars, who were several times within

a few yards of the royal fugitive, she arrived at last within sight

of Weimar, and was congratulating herself upon having escaped so

imminent a danger, when, to her dismay, she observed a strong body of

French dragoons endeavouring to cut off her retreat. However, before

they could come near, she was inside Weimar, the gates of which were

immediately closed upon the discomfited troopers.

The Queen found her costume exceedingly inconvenient during her flight;

and it was principally owing to this that she was so very near being

made prisoner.

* * * * *

Marie-Anne-Elise Bonaparte, sister of the first Napoleon, was a

woman of superior intellect, and shared to a considerable extent her

brother's military predilections. When she married Bacciochi, Prince

of Lucca and Piombino, it was she who conducted the government, while

the Prince was kept in a subordinate position. From her fondness for

military shows she acquired the title of the "Semiramis of Lucca."

Whenever she reviewed the troops, Prince Bacciochi discharged the

duties of aide-de-camp.

* * * * *

Next to Joan of Arc, the Maid of Saragossa is the most famous female

warrior that ever lived. Pictures and statues without number have

been exhibited commemorative of this Spanish girl's heroism; and what

renders her resemblance even greater to Jeanne is the fact that the

Maid of Saragossa was young, handsome, and interesting.

The siege of Saragossa (or Zaragoza), was one of the most extraordinary

recorded in modern history. The town was not even properly fortified,

but merely enclosed by a badly-constructed wall twelve feet high and

three feet in breadth. This was, moreover, intersected by houses,

which, with the neighbouring churches and monasteries, were in a most

dilapidated condition. The inhabitants numbered only sixty thousand,

and amongst these there was barely two hundred and twenty soldiers. The

artillery consisted of ten dilapidated old guns.

When the rest of Spain was at the feet of Napoleon, Marshal Lefebvre

was despatched in June 1808, with a strong division of the French

army to besiege Saragossa. Never, in our days at least, have the

inhabitants of a beleaguered town displayed such courage. Women of all

ranks assisted in the defence; they formed themselves into companies

of two or three hundred each, and materially aided the men. They were

always the most forward in danger, and the great difficulty was to

teach them prudence and a proper sense of their own danger.

The French Marshal, astounded at this unexpected resistance, bribed

the keeper of a large powder-magazine to blow it up on the night of

June 28th. The French immediately pressed forward to the gates, and

commenced a vigorous cannonade. The confusion within the walls was

fearful. The people, terrified by the explosion, stupefied by the noise

of the cannon thundering in their ears, were paralysed with terror.

It was at this critical moment, when the French were pouring into the

town, already considered it as their own, that Agostina (or Angostina)

the Maid of Saragossa performed that heroic action which has made her

name famous throughout the world.

According to the popular version of the story current at the time, the

deed was unpremeditated, and simply the result of a sudden impulse.

She was carrying round wine and water to the parched and fainting

soldiers; entering the Battery of El Portillo, she found that all its

defenders had been slain. She tore a match from the hand of a dying

artilleryman (whom Southey incorrectly supposes to have been her lover)

and fired off a twenty-six pounder gun which was loaded. But in Mrs.

Hale's "Woman's Record," and some other biographical dictionaries,

Agostina is represented as having gone to the battery with the previous

determination of performing great deeds.

"At this dreadful moment," says Mrs. Hale, "an unknown maiden issued

from the church of Nostra Donna del Pillas, habited in white raiment,

a cross suspended from her neck, her dark hair dishevelled and her

eyes sparkling with supernatural lustre! She traversed the city with a

bold and firm step; she passed to the ramparts, to the very spot where

the enemy was pouring in to the assault; she mounted to the breach,

seized a lighted match from the hand of a dying engineer, and fired the

piece of artillery he had failed to manage; then kissing her cross,

she cried with the accent of inspiration--'Death or victory!' and

re-loaded her cannon. Such a cry, such a vision, could not fail to call

up enthusiasm; it seemed that heaven had brought aid to the just cause;

her cry was answered--'Long live Agostina.'"

The people, inspired with new courage, rushed into the battery, and

blazed away at the French. Agostina swore not to quit her post while

the assault continued. The enthusiasm soon spread through the town.

Shouts of "Forward! Forward! We will conquer!" resounded from all

sides, and the besiegers were driven back at every point.

Marshal Lefebvre saw it would cost too many soldiers to take the

town by storm; so he endeavoured to reduce it by famine, aided by a

heavy bombardment. The horrors of war--people dying of hunger, shells

bursting in the streets, the destruction of houses--reigned paramount

in Saragossa. Agostina risked her life daily to assist the wounded.

But she was seen daily working a heavy gun in the battery at the

north-western gate.

The French, from their superior numbers and their determined

perseverance, soon became masters of nearly half the town. Lefebvre

sent to General Palafox, the Spanish Commandant, requesting him,

once more, to surrender. Palafox read this message in the public

street. Turning to Agostina, who, completely armed, stood near him, he

asked:--"What answer shall I send?"

"War to the knife!" said she.

And this answer, echoed by all, was sent back to the Duke of Dantzic.

The latter gave immediate orders for his troops to press the siege by

every possible means. For eleven days and eleven nights the town was

like the crater of a volcano. The Spaniards disputed the possession

of every street, every house, sometimes every room in a house.

Agostina was seen at all points, wherever there was most danger to be

encountered. Running from post to post, she fought almost incessantly.

At last the French, thoroughly exhausted, retired from before Saragossa

early on the morning of the 17th August, and the brave townspeople

had their reward when they saw the legions of France retiring towards

Pampeluna.

When General Palafox was rewarding the surviving warriors, he told

Agostina to select whatever reward she pleased; for, said he, anything

she asked for would be granted. The only favour she asked was

permission to retain the rank of an artillery-soldier, and to have the

privilege of taking the surname, and wearing the arms of Saragossa.

This was at once granted, with the double-pay of an artilleryman and a

pension; while she was decorated with medals and crosses by the Spanish

Junta, and given the additional surname of La Artillera.

During the second siege of Saragossa, Agostina distinguished herself

again as a warrior. When the French sat down before the gates, she took

up her former station at the Portillo battery, beside the same gun

which she had served so well.

"See," said she to Palafox, pointing to the gun, "I am again with my

old friend."

Her husband was severely wounded, but Agostina took his duties, while

he lay bleeding at her side. Besides loading and firing this famous

gun, Agostina frequently headed sallying parties; when, knife or sword

in hand, her cloak wrapped round her, she cheered and encouraged the

soldiers by her example and her words. Although constantly under fire,

she escaped without a wound. Once, however, she was flung into a ditch,

and nearly suffocated by the bodies of dead and dying which fell upon

her.

When the town capitulated in February, 1809, Agostina became a

prisoner. She was too much feared for Marshal Lannes to let her escape.

Fortunately for herself, she was seized with a contagious fever then

raging in the town, and was removed to the hospital; where, as it was

supposed she lay dying, so little care was taken in watching her that

she contrived to escape in a few days.

When Lord Byron visited Spain in 1809, the maid of Saragossa used to

walk every day on the Prado at Seville, attired in the Spanish military

uniform--retaining, however, the petticoat and skirt, of her sex. Byron

devoted half-a-dozen verses of "Childe Harold" to her praises. Sir John

Carr, who was introduced to her about the same time, describes the

heroine as "about twenty-three," with a light olive complexion. "Her

countenance soft and pleasing, and her manners, which were perfectly

feminine, were easy and engaging." When he saw Agostina she wore the

national black mantilla; but on the sleeve of one arm she had three

embroidered badges of honour, commemorative of three different acts of

bravery.

"The day before I was introduced to this extraordinary female," says

Sir John, "she had been entertained at dinner by Admiral Purvis on

board his flag-ship.... As she received a pension from Government,

and also the pay of an artilleryman, the admiral considered her as a

military character, and, much to his credit, received her with the

honours of that profession. Upon her reaching the deck, the marines

were drawn up and manœuvred before her. She appeared quite at home,

regarding them with a steady eye, and speaking in terms of admiration

of their neatness, and soldier-like appearance. Upon examining the

guns, she observed of one of them, as other women would speak of a cap,

'My gun,' alluding to one with which she had effected a considerable

havoc among the French at Saragossa, 'was not so nice and clean as

this.'"

Agostina lived to the age of sixty-nine, and died at Cuesta in July,

1857; when her remains were interred with all the honours due to her

public position as a Spanish patriot.

Although the women of Saragossa had been ordered to leave the town in

November, 1808, previous to the commencement of the second siege, most

of them remained, and assisted bravely in raising fortifications.

During the siege they exceeded even their past valour. In the short

space of two months no fewer than six hundred women and children

perished by the bayonets and musket-balls of the French; without

reckoning the thousands who owed their deaths to the frequent

explosions of powder-magazines and the constant bursting of shells in

the streets. A girl named Manuella Sanchez was shot through the heart.

A noble lady named Benita, who commanded one of the female corps raised

to carry round provisions, to bear away the wounded, and to fight in

the streets, narrowly escaped death again and again; and at the last

she only survived the dangers of war to die of grief on hearing that

her daughter had been slain.

* * * * *

All through the Peninsula women displayed the same Amazonian prowess.

Those towns which ventured to resist the Imperial Eagles were as much

influenced in their stubborn patriotism by the courage of the women as

by the exciting speeches of the priests or the promise of assistance

from England. And all those places which were besieged by the French

were defended by women as well as by men. In 1810 there was, it is

said, a woman holding the commission of Captain in a Spanish regiment.

In 1811, Mrs. Dalbiac, wife of a British colonel, "an English lady of

gentle disposition and possessing a very delicate frame," accompanied,

or perhaps followed, her husband to the Peninsula, and shared in all

the hardships of more than one campaign. At the battle of Salamanca,

July 22nd, 1812, she rode into the midst of the fight, and was several

times under fire.

* * * * *

The King of Prussia, unable to shake off the yoke of Napoleon in 1806,

when the star of the "Modern Attila" was at its zenith, took advantage

of the Emperor's misfortunes in 1813 to call upon the Germans to rise

against the tyranny of France. His call was warmly responded to from

all parts of the realm; and, like France in the early days of the

Republic, almost all who could bear arms hastened to enrol themselves

as volunteers, and march away to fight the Gaul. Perhaps the best

known rifle-corps was that commanded by Major Lutzow. Young men of the

best families, men of genius (amongst others, Körner the poet, who has

celebrated it in verse) joined this battalion. In this corps there was

a female soldier, who enrolled under the name of Renz. A monument was

erected to the memory of this heroine at Dannenberg, in September,

1865. It is in the form of a pyramid, one foot high. Nothing further is

known concerning her history, beyond what is told by the inscription

on this memorial.

"Ellonora Prochaska, known as one of the Lutzow Rifle Volunteers,

by the name of Augustus Renz, born at Potzdam on the 11th March,

1785, received a fatal wound in the battle of Göhrde on the 15th

September, 1813, died at Dannenberg on the 5th October, 1813. She fell

exclaiming:--'Herr Lieutenant, I am a woman!'"

In 1869 a young man was received, by the express order of the King of

Prussia, as a candidate for an ensign's commission into the second

company of the first battalion of the 9th regiment, in Stargard, the

same company in which his grandmother had served as a subaltern officer

during the war of liberation against the French, and bravely won the

Iron Cross and the Russian order of St. George. This lady--Augusta

Frederica Krüger--was a native of Friedland, in Mecklenberg. Not

content with offering, like many of her countrywomen, her trinkets and

her flowing hair on the altar of patriotism, she entered the ranks

as a volunteer, under the name of Lübeck, and distinguished herself

by her intrepidity on many a hard-fought field. On October 23, 1815,

she received her discharge, and her services were mentioned in this

document in the most flattering terms. In January, 1816, being present,

dressed in the garments of her own sex, at the festival of the Iron

Cross, held at Berlin, she attracted the attention of a sub-officer of

Lancers, named Karl Köhler, to whom she was married, in the garrison

church of Berlin, on March 5, of the same year. The church was densely

packed with spectators on the occasion, every one anxious to witness

the marriage of two Prussian subaltern officers. The heroic bride

appeared in a handsome silk gown, and wore on her breast the orders she

had honourably won, which, with her short hair, were the only signs or

symbols of her former military career.

* * * * *

Marshal Massena once related how, during an action between the French

and Russians at Buezenghen, he observed a young soldier, apparently

scarcely more than a child, who belonged to the French Light Artillery,

defending himself bravely against several herculean Cossacks and

Bavarians. This young artilleryman, whose horse had been slain by the

thrust of a Cossack lance, displayed the most determined courage. "I

immediately despatched an officer and some men to his assistance, but

they arrived too late. Although the action had taken place on the

borders of the wood and in front of the bridge, the artilleryman had

alone withstood the attack of the small body of Cossacks and Bavarians

whom the officers and men I had despatched put to flight. His body was

covered with wounds inflicted by shots, lances, and swords. There were

at least thirty. And do you know, Madame," asked the Marshal, "what the

_young man_ was?"

"A woman!"

"Yes, a woman, and a handsome woman too! Although she was so covered

with blood that it was difficult to judge of her beauty. She had

followed her lover to the army. The latter was a Captain of Artillery;

she never left him, and when he was killed, defended like a lioness

the remains of him she loved. She was a native of Paris, her name was

Louise Belletz, and she was the daughter of a fringe-maker."

* * * * *

It was in 1812 that the Chicago Massacre took place. For more than a

year before, the Indian tribes residing near the remote lakes and the

sources of the Mississippi had displayed great hostility towards the

pale-faces; though for a long time they did not venture to proceed to

extremities. But after the declaration of war between the United States

and Great Britain, on the 18th May, 1812, the savages came forward

in great numbers as the allies of the British, and acted with their

customary barbarity. One of their worst deeds was the Massacre of

Chicago, August 15th, 1812.

The Fort of Chicago was commanded by Captain Heald. On the 7th August,

he received despatches announcing that the Pottawatomie Indians had

declared war against the United States, and commanding him to evacuate

the place. He marched out on the 15th, accompanied by all the women and

children, and had not proceeded very far before they were surrounded

by overwhelming numbers of redskins. The Americans defended themselves

with their usual bravery; and though hardly more than one to twenty,

they sold their lives dearly.

Mrs. Heald, who was in the thick of the fight, received seven wounds.

Her horse, a splendid animal, was prized by the Indians, who valued it

far higher than its rider, and tried their best to avoid hurting it.

A savage was in the act of tearing off Mrs. Heald's bonnet to scalp

her, when one of the St. Joseph's tribe ransomed her for ten bottles of

whiskey and a mule.

Mrs. Helm, wife of the officer second in command, fought bravely for

her life. She was wounded slightly in the ankle, and had her horse shot

under her. Being attacked by a young savage who aimed a blow at her

head with his tomahawk, she sprang on one side, and the stroke fell on

her shoulder, inflicting a severe wound. She seized him round the neck,

and endeavoured to snatch his scalping-knife; but another Indian came

up and dragged her away. The new-comer proved to be a friend. Plunging

Mrs. Helm into the lake, he held her there, despite her struggles, till

the firing was over.

After fighting with desperate valour, until only twenty-seven of them

were left, the Americans were compelled to surrender. The wife of one

of the soldiers, hearing of the tortures which the savages inflicted on

their prisoners, resolved to die sooner than let herself be taken. When

her companions had given up their arms, the Indians wished to capture

this woman; but rejecting all their promises of kind treatment, she

fought so desperately that she was literally cut to pieces.

Captain Helm, twice wounded, was sent with his wife and children to

Mackinaw on the eastern coast of Michigan, and delivered as prisoners

of war to the British general, who received them kindly, and sent them

to Detroit. Lieutenant Helm, also wounded, was taken to St. Louis;

where he was liberated through the entreaties of Mr. Forsyth, an Indian

trader. Mrs. Helm was taken to Detroit, where she was exchanged,

together with Captain and Mrs. Heald, some time after.

[Illustration]

III.

Doña Maria de Jesus, Private in the Brazilian Army (War of

the Reconcave)--Russian Female Soldiers--Juana de Areito

(Civil Wars in Spain, 1834)--Anita Garibaldi--Appolonia

Jagiello (Rebellions in Poland, 1846 and '48, and Vienna

and Hungary, '48)--Bravery of the Croatian Women--Countess

Helena St. ----, a Hungarian Patriot--Garde Mobile--Louisa

Battistati (Milanese Revolution, 1848)--Fatima, a Turkish

Commander (Russo-Turkish War)--Lady Paget (Attack

on the Mamelon, June, 1855)--Miss Wheeler (Cawnpore

Massacre)--Queen of Naples--Polish Insurrection--Mdlle.

Pustowjtoff, Adjutant to Langievicz--Female Polish

Chasseurs--Female Lieut.-Colonel in the Mexican Army--Civil

War in America--Female Privates in the Potomac Army--Female

Lieutenant and Privates in the Army of the West--Mrs.

Clayton, Private in the Federal Army--Emily ----, Private in

the Drum Corps of a Michigan Regiment--Female Confederates

at Ringgold, Chattanooga--Mrs. Florence Bodwin--Female

Mulatto Sergeant--Native Contingent in New Zealand--Herminia

Manelli, Corporal of Bersaglieri (Battle of Custozza,

1866)--Lopez's Amazons--Cretan Amazons--Women of

Montenegro--Female Brigands--German Order to Reward Courage

in Women--Franco-Prussian War--Minna Hänsel's Amazon Corps.

Since the first French Revolution, monarchs have not always sat easily

upon their thrones. They fancied they had cut down the Tree of Liberty

after the downfall of Napoleon, and that it would never grow up again;

but in a very short time it brought forth new branches, and has since

borne fruit in a way which the most sanguine Republican of olden times

would scarcely have ventured to predict. Since the battle of Waterloo,

Europe and America--even parts of Asia and Africa--have been convulsed

by rebellions, civil wars, and revolutions, which have often shaken

the world to its centre. The peoples learnt to hate their rulers; and

one nation after another, catching the revolutionary fire from the

smouldering brand half stamped out in France, rose in rebellion against

the monarch who refused them immediate enfranchisement. Again and

again have the nations been compelled by force of arms to submit; but

they rise again whenever they fancy they see a favourable opportunity.

Thus it happened that almost every war, fought in Europe or America

since Waterloo up to some ten years since, had its origin in the same

cause--the struggles of nations to cast off their rulers.

Amongst those states which took the initiative in raising the standard

of revolt, the South American colonies of Spain and Portugal were

foremost. Brazil declared its independence in 1821, and elected Don

Pedro, the Crown Prince of Portugal, to be Emperor. The latter had a

hard struggle to maintain his throne against not only the Portuguese

troops, but against the Republicans, who composed a large party in

Brazil. His emissaries were despatched all over the country, to the

most distant plantations, to raise recruits for the Imperial Army. One

of these messengers arrived one day at the farmhouse of Gonzalez de

Almeida, a Portuguese settler in the parish of San José, on the Rio de

Pax. The patriot was invited to dinner; and, mindful of his object, he

endeavoured to enlist the sympathies of his host for Don Pedro. Almeida

listened very attentively; but it awakened no feelings of patriotism in

his breast. He was old, and could not join the army himself, nor had he

a son to give.

"As to giving a slave," added he, "what interest would a slave have in

fighting for the independence of Brazil?"

But though Almeida had no sons, he had two daughters. One of them, Doña

Maria de Jesus, was desirous, for many reasons, to leave home and seek

employment elsewhere. Her father had married again, and the step-mother

and her young children made home exceedingly uncomfortable for Maria.

She was much excited by the patriot's words; "So that at last," she

said, "I felt my heart burning in my breast!"

She stole from the house, and went to that of her married sister. After

recapitulating the stranger's discourse, she expressed a wish that she

were a man and could join the Imperial standard.

"Nay," said her sister. "If I had not a husband and child, for one half

of what you say, I would join the ranks of the emperor."

This decided the wavering resolution of Doña Maria. Her sister supplied

her with a suit of clothes belonging to the husband, so Maria took the

opportunity, as her father was going to Cachoeira, about forty leagues

distant, to dispose of some cotton, to ride after him; not close enough

to be seen, but sufficiently near for protection. When in sight of

Cachoeira, she halted; and going a little way from the road, dressed

herself in male attire.

She entered the town on a Friday, and by the following Sunday she had

enlisted in an artillery regiment, and had already mounted guard. She

was, however, too slight for the heavy duties of an artilleryman; so

she exchanged into an infantry corps, in which she remained till the

close of the war.

Her real sex was not even suspected till Almeida applied to the

commanding officer of her regiment. In the summer of 1823 she was sent

with despatches to Rio Janeiro, and there presented to Don Pedro, who

gave her an ensign's commission and the Order of the Cross--the latter

of which he himself placed upon her jacket.

Maria Graham in her "Journal of a Voyage to Brazil," gives, as one

of the illustrations, Maria de Jesus in her uniform. "Her dress,"

says this traveller, "is that of a soldier of one of the emperor's

battalions, with the addition of a tartan kilt, which she told me she

had adopted from a picture representing a Highlander, as the most

feminine military dress. What would the Gordons and Macdonalds say to

this? The 'garb of old Gaul' chosen as a womanish attire!" This lady

further says that Maria, though clever, was almost totally uneducated;

"she might have been a remarkable person. She is not particularly

masculine in her appearance, and her manners are gentle and cheerful."

* * * * *

In a census of the population of St. Petersburg, published about 1829,

there appears the following curious item:--

"SOLDIERS AND SUBALTERNS.

Men. Women. Total.

46,076 9,975 56,051."

When the civil war broke out in Spain, in 1834, the town of Eybar,

in the province of Guipuzcoa, being attacked by Zabala, the Carlist

general, several women and girls assisted the Christino troops in its

defence. One of these brave girls, Juana de Anito, at this time barely

fifteen, was married six years later to Don Eulogio Barbero Quintero,

a young officer in the Spanish Army. In 1840 he became mixed up in a

conspiracy against the Government; and on the failure of the plot,

attempted to escape into France. He was intercepted on his road, and

imprisoned in the citadel of San Sebastian. Directly Juana heard of

his capture she resolved to effect his escape; which she accomplished

in Nov. 1841, by exchanging clothes with him. Don Eulogio succeeded in

reaching the French frontier; but the courage and devotion of his young

wife did not avert the wrath of the Spanish Regent, by whose orders she

was condemned to imprisonment for life.

* * * * *

It was whilst fighting in Brazil as a rebel against the Imperial

Government that Garibaldi first met his beloved wife, Anita. She was a

Brazilian by birth, and possessed all the beauty of her countrywomen.

Her complexion was a clear olive, set off by piercing black eyes, her

figure tall and commanding. She was a fit companion for the brave

Garibaldi; being to the full as courageous as he. The general himself

said that his wife took part in battle as "an amusement" and "a simple

variation to the monotony of camp-life."

Anita accompanied her husband in all his expeditions both on shore and

at sea. Ably did she second him in the struggle for Brazilian freedom.

Shortly after marriage they were one day at sea, when the Imperial

fleet hove in sight, and bore down upon them. Garibaldi entreated his

bride to land, and remain on shore whilst the engagement lasted; but

she firmly refused, and not only remained during the action, but took a

very leading share in it. One of the sailors fell dead at her feet; she

snatched up his carbine, and kept up a constant fire on the Brazilians

for several hours.

When the battle was at its height, Anita was standing on deck, waving

a sword over her head, encouraging the men to resist bravely. Suddenly

she was struck down by the wind of a cannon-ball, which killed two men

close by. Garibaldi rushed forward, expecting to find that life was

extinct; but to his astonishment and delight she rose up unhurt. Again

he entreated her to go below, and remain there till the fighting was

over.

"Yes," said Anita. "I will go below; but only to drive out the cowards

who are skulking there."

And running down the hatchway, she speedily reappeared, driving before

her three men who had gone below to escape the storm.

Anita was also present, on horseback, in a battle fought at a place

called Coritibani, where the Garibaldians, numbering scarcely eighty

men, half of whom were infantry, were attacked by a large body of

Brazilian cavalry. She was not satisfied with being a mere spectator;

knowing that the rebels, as they kept up a constant fire, would soon

exhaust their ammunition, she went to the baggage-waggons to see

that the men were properly supplied with cartridges. She had not been

there very long before the baggage-train was attacked by twenty or

thirty Brazilian horsemen. Anita was a good rider, and could have saved

herself; but she preferred to remain on the spot, encouraging the

Garibaldians.

The Brazilians were victorious in this battle; Anita surrounded on

every side, received orders to yield. Clapping spurs to her horse, she

dashed through the midst of her foes. Several shots were fired after

her; one, a pistol shot, went through her hat, cutting off a lock of

hair, while another pierced her horse's head. The animal fell heavily

to the ground, flinging her with violence from the saddle. Before she

could recover her feet, the Brazilian troopers had made her prisoner.

Anita believed that her husband had been killed; so the Brazilian

colonel gave her permission to search the battle-field for his body.

She looked through the corpses again and again for several hours, and

at last came to the conclusion that Garibaldi still lived, and she

determined to rejoin him. That night, when the Brazilians had retired

to rest, and when even the sentry began to nod, she succeeded in

escaping to a farmhouse a quarter of a mile distant; where she seized a

horse, and plunged into the forest, in the direction which she believed

the Garibaldians to have taken.

For more than a week, Anita Garibaldi wandered alone amidst the almost

impenetrable wilds of the dense Brazilian forests, without food, and

exposed to the hourly chances of capture. More than once she was

pursued by the enemy placed in ambush at various points. One stormy

night, four horsemen, who were stationed at a ford of the river Canoas,

believing her to be a phantom, fled in terror. Anita plunged boldly

into the stream; and, although it was five hundred yards broad, and

swollen by the mountain rivulets till it had assumed the aspect of

a roaring cataract, she succeeded, holding on by her horse's mane,

in reaching the opposite shore, amidst a shower of bullets from the

Brazilians, who had found out their mistake.

After enduring for eight days every kind of danger and privation, she

overtook the Garibaldians, and rejoined her husband.

"Yes, yes, gentlemen," added Garibaldi, when he related this anecdote,

"my wife is valiant."

There are many more of these anecdotes related concerning the

extraordinary bravery of Anita. She afterwards accompanied her

husband on his return to Italy, in 1848, and was with him during the

insurrection of Lombardy against Austria. In the following year she

attended him throughout the siege of Rome. After the fall of the

Eternal City in 1849, when Garibaldi was escaping to Venice, Anita,

worn out by long suffering, died at Mandriole, a small village in the

marshes of Ravenna.

* * * * *

Apollonia Jagiello, a Polish heroine, who acquired no little celebrity

for her bravery during the insurrections of '46 and '48, was born in

Lithuania, in 1825. She was educated at Cracow, in which city she

passed her early life; sometimes changing for a few weeks to Warsaw

or Vienna. In 1846 the insurrection broke out in the former city.

Apollonia was, at this time, rather more than twenty, of medium height,

with a graceful and slender figure. She was a brunette, with big black

eyes, and a profusion of dark hair. Her arms and hands, which were more

than once admired by those who saw her, were beautiful, and delicately

formed. Although her lips were usually compressed, with a resolute

expression of one who was not easily daunted, yet she could also

smile most sweetly. "In that," says the _National Era_ (an American

journal), "the woman comes out; it is arch, soft and winning--a rare

and indescribable smile. Her manner," adds this paper, "is simple

and engaging. Her voice is now gentle or mirthful, now earnest and

passionate--sometimes it sounds like the utterance of some quiet home

lyre, and sometimes startles you with a decided ring of the steel."

Apollonia, inspired by that enthusiastic love for her country, which

we so often find amongst Polish girls, joined the national army; and,

throughout the struggle, which lasted only two or three months, was

always found wherever danger was greatest. Mounted on horseback, she

was one of those patriots who planted the White Eagle and the flag of

freedom on the Castle and Palace of Cracow. She also formed one of that

gallant little band which fought the battle near Podgorze against an

army ten times their strength.

When the insurrection was suppressed, Madlle. Jagiello, resuming her

own attire, remained in Cracow for several weeks without detection. She

then removed to Warsaw, where she stayed until the year 1848, the Year

of Revolutions. Directly the Cracovians took up arms, she joined their

ranks, and displayed the same courage which she had shown two years

previously.

The insurrection of '48 proved, if possible, a greater failure than

the first. Apollonia fled from Cracow, and reached Vienna just in time

to take share in the skirmish of the Faubourg Widen. She remained here

only a few days, her object being to join the Hungarian insurgents

under Kossuth. With the assistance of some friends she succeeded in

reaching Presburg; whence, disguised as a peasant, she was conveyed

to the village of St. Paul by those unfortunate country-folks who

were compelled to carry provisions for the Austrian army. Crossing

that part of the country occupied by the German troops, she reached

the Hungarian camp, near the village of Ezneszey, on the 15th August,

1848. This was immediately before the battle fought here, in which the

Austrians were defeated, and General Wist slain. Apollonia took part in

this battle as a volunteer; but such was her courage that the Hungarian

general presented her with a lieutenant's commission.

Apollonia, on the urgent solicitation of all, undertook the

superintendence of the hospital at Comorn. This post she resigned for a

while to join as a volunteer in the expedition of twelve thousand men,

commanded by General Klapka, who captured Raab. Returning to Comorn,

the heroine resumed her hospital duties, and remained there until the

fortress surrendered.

In December, 1849, in company with Governor Ladislaus Ujhazy and his

family, Apollonia Jagiello sailed to the United States, where they

received an enthusiastic welcome. Here she continued to show that

hatred of tyrants for which she had ever been distinguished. One day,

when she was at Washington, an album was handed to her, with the

request that she would add her autograph to those it already contained.

She took it with a smile, but it chanced that on the very page at

which she opened, the signature of M. Bodisco, the Russian ambassador,

figured prominently. Flinging the album from her, with flashing eyes,

she declared that her name should never appear in the same book with

"the tool of a tyrant."

While the hatred of Austria was felt by all throughout Hungary,

Croatia and Sclavonia were actuated, on the contrary, by feelings of

the deepest loyalty to the house of Hapsburg. Baron W., who published

his adventures under the title of "Scenes of the Civil War in Hungary

in 1848-9, with the personal adventures of an Austrian officer,

etc.," declares that the Croatians joined the Imperial standard by

thousands; even the women, moved by an ardent and loyal courage,

aided in defending the frontiers against the Bosnians, who, excited

by the emissaries of Kossuth, took every opportunity for raids and

invasions over the border. While the men were flocking to the banners

of Jellachich, the ban of Croatia, their wives and daughters took up

arms and repaired to the chain of posts on the Turkish boundary, "that

all the men might be able to take the field; and such an eight days'

duty as these frontier posts," he adds, "is no trifle, and requires

not a little firmness." Old, half-invalided frontier subalterns,

incapacitated for taking the field, were the commandants; young,

many of them handsome, females composed their troops. "By my faith!"

exclaims the Baron, "I should have no objection to be the commander of

such a corps of Ottochan females myself!"

Numbers of Croatian and Sclavonian women accompanied the Austrian army

into Germany and Italy. "We had," says the same author, "wives and

daughters of frontier soldiers with us in Peschiera and on the march

through Hungary, who equalled the men in the endurance of fatigue,

and displayed undaunted courage in battle. In Hungary we had with us

a young Croatian, the daughter of an old Seressan, who was as daring

a rider as the best hussar, and more than once fearlessly joined the

men in the charge. A Hungarian _jurat_ gave her in an action a cut

on the left cheek, which she returned with a severe blow on the arm,

seized the bridle of his horse, and took him prisoner. This horse, a

grey stallion, she ever afterwards rode, and refused to sell, though I

offered her forty ducats for him."

The Countess Helene St. ----, a Hungarian patriot, was the sister of an

old comrade of Baron W. The brother, who owned a magnificent estate,

was a Magyar to the very core; and directly the insurrection broke out,

he took up arms, and fell bravely fighting for his country in February,

1849. His dying agonies were soothed by an unexpected meeting with his

early friend; the Baron.

Helene joined the insurgents soon after her brother left home,

and served as aide-de-camp to his maternal uncle, who commanded a

considerable Magyar corps. One cold, moonlight night, a few days after

the death of the count, the author of the "Adventures" discovered the

corpse of this beautiful girl, dressed in the military uniform of a

Hungarian soldier, stretched out at the foot of a tree, her life's

blood crimsoning the white snow.

"Forcibly mustering my spirits," says he, "I ordered my men to carry

the body to the fire. There we examined it more closely, and with

extreme anxiety I sought to ascertain whether there was any hope left

of reviving her. Vain hope! It was several hours since her spirit had

departed; the ball of one of our riflemen had gone through her heart.

From the small red wound blood was still oozing in a single drop, which

I carefully caught in my handkerchief to be preserved as a relic.

"My only consolation was that the deceased could not have suffered

long; that she must have expired the very moment she was struck. Those

pure, noble, still wondrous beautiful features; on her brow dwelt peace

and composure, and the lips almost smiled. There she lay, as if in

tranquil slumber, and yet those eyes were never more to open--those

lips never more to utter noble sentiments or words of kindness.

"My hussars were visibly affected, and thought it a pity that one so

young and so beautiful should die so early. Many of them who had been

with me on our first march through Hungary for two days together at St.

----'s mansion, instantly recognised Helene, and doubly lamented her

death, because she had shown such kindness to them."

They dug a deep grave beneath the frozen snow. "The corpse, in full

uniform; the _holpack_, with plume of glistening heron's feathers on

her head, the light Turkish sabre by her side, was then carefully

wrapped in a clean large blanket which we had with us, and so deposited

in the grave, which we filled up again with earth. Then regardless of

caution, I had a full salute fired with pistols over the grave. I have

preserved a small gold ring and a lock of her hair for a memorial."

The Baron, it should be added, plainly tells the reader that he

was very nearly, if not quite, over head and ears in love with the

beautiful Helene.

One of the hussars, who could do carpenter's work, made a cross of two

young, white maple trees, which was placed over the heroine's grave.

* * * * *

The Garde Mobile (which, as an extra battalion to the National Guard,

did good service to the people in '48,) when it was disbanded, proved

to be half composed of Parisian women and girls.

Louisa Battistati, a heroine of the Lombardian Revolution, was a

native of Stradella, in Sardinia, and a mantua-maker by trade. She

was dwelling in Milan, following this business, when the five days'

Revolution broke out. On Sunday, the 10th March, 1848, Louisa attacked

and disarmed an Austrian cavalry soldier, although he carried a

carbine. At the head of a valiant band of young women, she now took up

her station at the Poppietti bridge, and defended it all through the

20th, the 21st and the 22nd. At every shot from her musket a Croat fell

dead.

* * * * *

In June, 1853, the war between Russia and Turkey broke out. The Turkish

government, to swell the ranks of the army, were obliged to beat up for

recruits among the semi-barbarous tribes of Asia Minor. The chief of

one of the wild tribes in the Cilician mountains having been imprisoned

by order of the Sultan, his wife, Fatima, a little old woman, about

sixty years of age, with a dark complexion, who governed during his

absence, exercising the double duty of Queen and Prophetess, raised

three hundred of her best horsemen and led them to the Allied Camp

at Scutari, in the summer of 1854. Her appearance created no little

sensation amongst English and French. There was very little of the

Amazon in her personal appearance, though she bestrode her steed like

a trooper, and wore a costume intended to represent the military dress

of a chieftain. She was attended by two handmaids, also in male attire.

Fatima, apprehensive that her entreaties for the release of her husband

would prove insufficient to move the Sultan, thought the best means of

propitiating the Turkish Government was to lead a few hundreds of her

bravest warriors to fight the frozen Russ. The pay for her troops was

to be eighty piastres a month, besides tooth and stirrup money in every

village through which they should pass.

* * * * *

When the Allies were storming the Mamelon in June, 1855, Lady Paget

(wife of Lord George, and daughter of General Sir Arthur Paget, brother

of the famous Marquis of Anglesey) was present on the field, at a

short distance from the scene of action. General Pennefather went up

to the dead body of a Russian officer, and cut a medal off his coat.

He then pinned the medal on Lady Paget's shawl, paying her a handsome

compliment to the effect that she deserved a medal as much as any one

present.

* * * * *

Most people can remember the fortitude and courage displayed by the

British ladies at Cawnpore, Lucknow, and other Indian cities during

the terrible Mutiny. Ladies, some of them mere girls, delicately

nurtured, unused to hardships of any kind, endured without a murmur,

the most heartrending privations; and so far from giving way to useless

repinings or sinking into apathy, they tried in every way to cheer

up their brave defenders. They bore provisions and ammunition to the

soldiers, loaded the rifles, and more than once took their turn in

mounting guard and firing on the rebels.

The heroine of Cawnpore, Miss Wheeler, was one of the prisoners

captured by the notorious Nana Sahib on the 26th June, 1857, and all

who survived the terrible Massacre bore witness to her unflinching

courage. She is said to have shot five Sepoys with a revolver; that she

was then taken away by a sowar (trooper) to his hut, when she snatched

his sabre, cut off his head, and flung herself down a well. An ayah,

belonging to an English family, stated that it was in the hut, after

killing the sowar, that she shot the five Sepoys.

* * * * *

The romantic conquest of Naples and Sicily, by General Garibaldi in

1860, has already melted into the past and become an almost distant

event in European history. It was said at the time that if Francis II.

had possessed a particle of the military courage of his Queen, it would

have been easy for him with his trained battalions to have captured

or dispersed the handful of Garibaldian volunteers. When Bombino had

taken refuge in Gaeta, the great stronghold of Southern Italy, he

fancied himself secure from the attacks of the foe; but the Sardinian

troops were soon battering the walls with long-range guns, and all the

appliances necessary for a modern siege.

Amongst the besieged, Queen Marie Sophie Amelie was the only leader

who encouraged the soldiers to make a brave defence. Standing on the

ramparts of Gaeta, she incited the Neapolitan troops to shed the last

drop of their blood for the Bourbon cause. Doubtless there was much

exaggeration in those marvellous anecdotes published in the newspapers

of the time relating deeds of Amazonian valour performed by the Queen;

but it is certain that she acted the part of King, while her cowardly

husband hid away in the darkness and security of bomb-proof galleries.

In December, 1860, and January, 1861, it was remarked by the troops

of Cialdini that every morning, at a particular hour, the fire of

the Neapolitan batteries slackened for a short time; re-commencing,

however, with renewed vigour. They soon learned that the Queen, dressed

in Calabrian costume, visited a particular battery (named after herself

the "Queen's Battery") every morning, sometimes on horseback, but

generally in a coach; and would assist in the firing of the heavy guns.

The artillerymen were ready to sacrifice their lives in the service of

their beautiful and courageous Queen, while they heartily despised the

contemptible Francis.

* * * * *

The chief heroine of the last Polish insurrection (1862-3-4) was

Madlle. Pustowjtoff, or, as some have written it, Pustovoydova,

aide-de-camp and Adjutant to General Langievicz, the Dictator. When

the ill-starred rebellion was at its height, cartes-de-visite of the

heroine, in the costume of a Polish officer, were displayed in the

shop-windows of the great European and American cities, side by side

with all the public celebrities of the day. She was decidedly pretty,

though rather childish looking: her features were good, and she had a

profusion of fair hair.

Though her family and her proclivities were essentially Polish, Madlle

Pustowjtoff was not a native of the country, but was born in Russia

of a Polish mother. When the insurrection broke out, she escaped from

a convent where she had been placed (probably by her parents) and

joined Langievicz, who almost immediately appointed her to be one

of his aides. She was present in numberless battles and skirmishes

between the Russians and Poles; and finally accompanied Langievicz in

his precipitate--some say cowardly--flight into Galicia, where, being

arrested by the Austrian authorities, the fugitives were imprisoned.

Madlle. Pustowjtoff was afterwards released on parole, though she

was requested not to quit Galicia. In November, 1863, she exchanged

the profession of arms for the occupation of companion to a lady in

that country; but after the release of Langievicz and his followers

by the Austrian Government in the summer of 1865, she resigned this

employment, and travelled westwards.

* * * * *

There was many another Polish heroine as brave though not so famous

as the female Adjutant. When national liberty is at stake, there will

always be found women as well as men ready to arm in its defence; and

the women of Poland have ever been remarked for more than ordinary

patriotism. A writer in _Fraser's Magazine_ for December, 1863,

speaking of the part taken by the Polish women in the struggles with

Russia, relates the following anecdotes of female courage:--

"The following incident of the active heroism of the Polish women, was

told me by an officer who had commanded a detachment of cavalry in

Lithuania in the early days of the insurrection:--

"One day about twenty of his Cossacks surrounded the house of a

lady, living in a retired part of the country, whose daughter was

the betrothed of one of the chiefs of bands known to be in the

neighbourhood. At that very moment he and several other leaders were

in the house, consulting with the two ladies over their plans. Alarmed

by the arrival of the Cossacks, the men hastened to escape from the

back windows, and fled to the woods; the two women actually protecting

their retreat by keeping up a fire from their pistols from the front.

When the Cossacks at last forced their way into the house, they found

only the two women, whom they do not seem to have molested, but

contented themselves, after their manner, with filling their pockets

with all the portable valuables within reach. On retiring, they pitched

their horses a short distance off, yet in sight of the house. Presently

the young girl was seen to come out, and proceed to the stables, from

which she soon again came forth, mounted, when she set off in the

direction her lover had taken. One of the Cossacks, having a sorry

beast of his own, and admiring that which the girl rode, galloped after

her, took hold of her bridle, and, as good-humouredly as his rough

nature allowed, proposed an exchange, observing that as she was going

to join the band, she had no need of such a good horse. The reply was

a bullet from her revolver which sent the Cossack reeling from his

saddle. Meanwhile his companions, who had followed him, had come up,

and seeing the fate of their comrade, surrounded her. The intrepid

girl then snapped her pistol at one after the other, and when all the

chambers of this one were discharged, flung the empty weapon at the

head of the nearest, knocking him from his horse, and immediately drew

forth a second. This was too much for the politeness of the Cossacks,

of whom three or four were already on the ground; they lifted the poor

girl completely off her horse on the points of their lances, and so she

perished.

"As a further example," continues this writer, "I will translate an

extract from a private letter lately received from an officer serving

in the kingdom of Poland:--'Yesterday,' says the officer who wrote

it, 'we defeated a band and took nineteen prisoners, one of whom was

a woman. There were altogether seven of them belonging to that band,

but we do not as yet know if the others were killed or escaped. All

the women, our prisoner tells us, were dressed as _chasseurs_, wearing

the same uniform of coarse cloth as the men, only without the red

epaulette. Their caps, such as are worn by all the Confederates, were

coquettishly made, and decorated with a white ostrich feather. We

captured her by the merest chance. She was a girl from Cracow, finely

built, with broad shoulders, and muscular hand and arm, which showed

she had been used to gymnastic exercises, while her weather-beaten

complexion proved she must have belonged to the band for some length of

time. Her features, without being pretty, were regular and agreeable.

On our asking her reasons for serving with the band, she confessed she

had followed her lover to the woods, adding that, when he was killed,

she would have gone back home, but was prevented by her comrades.

Somebody asking if she had not served as aide-de-camp to C--(the chief

of another band), she blushed deeply, and indignantly denied the

imputation. After this reply, she was very haughty and retired for a

time; but, seeing that we were all respectful to her, she gradually

became more at home with us and confiding in her conversation. As she

had lost her boots, and was bare-footed, we furnished her with a pair

of our long boots and some stockings, for which the poor girl was

very thankful. The next day she was released and sent home, her male

companions being forwarded on to Warsaw.'"

* * * * *

During the war between France and Mexico, several women and girls

were discovered fighting in the ranks of Juarez. One of them, a young

Indian, aged twenty-two, enlisted with her husband, in the regiment of

Zacatécas. She fought so bravely as to speedily gain her epaulettes.

Her husband was slain; but the widow remained in the regiment, where

her daring courage soon not only procured the esteem of her superior

officers, but caused the Mexican generals to promote her to the rank of

lieutenant-colonel, May 5th, 1862. When the French captured Puebla,

in the summer of 1863, she was made prisoner, and sent to Vera Cruz;

whence she embarked in the "Rhône" steam transport for France. During

the voyage, though a prisoner, she was treated with all the respect

due to a superior officer. She arrived in France in August, 1863, and

was seen by many persons, who described the female colonel as rather

good-looking, but somewhat unfeminine in outward carriage and bearing.

* * * * *

If we may believe Transatlantic newspapers, the Civil War in America

was more productive of female warriors than almost any conflict since

the days of the Amazons. The ranks of both Federals and Confederates,

from the very commencement of the great struggle, were swelled by

numbers of women, who, for various reasons, chose to risk their lives

under the Stars and Stripes, or the Stars and Bars. In the summer of

1864, it was said that upwards of one hundred and fifty women were

known to be serving in the Army of the Potomac. It was generally

supposed that these women had been in collusion with an equal number of

men who had been examined by the surgeons; after which the fair ones

substituted themselves, and went to the seat of war. More than seventy

of the valiant _demoiselles_ were, when their sex became known, acting

as officers' servants.

Early in May, 1863, a Pennsylvania girl was discovered serving in one

of the regiments in the Federal Army of the West, to which she had

belonged for ten months. She said that there were many females in the

ranks of this army, and one female lieutenant. She had herself, she

declared, assisted in burying three female soldiers whose sex was

unknown to any but her.

Mrs. Francis L. Clayton, another female Federal, enlisted in 1861, in

company with her husband at St. Paul, Minnesota. The husband and wife

fought together, side by side, in eighteen battles, till the former

was slain in the engagement of Stone River. After his death, the wife

did not care to remain any longer in the service, so she went to the

general, and told him she was a woman, and was at once discharged. She

then returned to Maine. During her military career, Mrs. Clayton was

wounded three times, and once was made prisoner.

The following story, "strange if true," appeared in the _Brooklyn_ (New

York) _Times_, in October, 1863, just after the battle of Chattanooga:--

"About a twelvemonth since, when disaster everywhere overtook the Union

arms, and our gallant sons were falling fast under the marvellous

sword of rebellion, a young lady, scarce nineteen, from an academy in

a sister State, conceived the idea that she was destined by Providence

to lead our armies to victory, and our nation through successful war.

It was at first thought by her parents--a highly respectable family

in Willoughby-street--that her mind was weakened simply by reading

continual accounts of reverses to our arms, and they treated her as a

sick child. This only had the effect of making her more demonstrative,

and her enthusiastic declaration and apparent sincerity gave the family

great anxiety. Dr. B. was consulted, the minister was spoken to,

friends advised, family meetings held, interviews with the young lady

and her former companions in the academy were frequent, but nothing

could shake the feeling which possessed her. It was finally resolved

to take her to Michigan. An old maiden aunt accompanied the fair

enthusiast, and for weeks Anne Arbour became their home. But travel had

no effect upon the girl. The stern command of her aunt alone prevented

her from making her way to Washington to solicit an interview with

the President for the purpose of getting command of the United States

Army. Finally it was found necessary to restrain her from seeing any

one but her own family, and her private parlour became her prison.

To a high-spirited girl that would be unendurable at any time, but

to a young lady filled with such an hallucination it was worse than

death. She resolved to elude her friends, and succeeded,--leaving them

clandestinely,--and, although the most distinguished detectives of the

east and west were employed to find her whereabouts, it was unavailing.

None could conjecture her hiding-place. This was last April. She was

mourned as lost, the habiliments of mourning were assumed by her

grief-stricken parents, and a suicide's grave was assumed to be hers.

But it was not so. The infatuated girl, finding no sympathy among

her friends, resolved to enter the army, disguised as a drummer boy,

dreaming, poor girl, that her destiny would be worked out by such a

mode. She joined the drum-corps of a Michigan regiment at Detroit, her

sex known only to herself, and succeeded in getting with her regiment

to the Army of the Cumberland. How the poor girl survived the hardships

of the Kentucky campaign, when strong men fell in numbers, must for

ever remain a mystery. The regiment to which she was attached had a

place in the division of the gallant Van Cleve, and, during the bloody

battle of last Sunday, the fair girl fell, pierced in the left side

with a Minié ball, and, when borne to the surgeon's tent, her sex was

discovered. She was told by the surgeon that her wound was mortal, and

advised to give her name, that her family might be informed of her

fate. This she finally, though reluctantly, consented to do, and the

colonel of the regiment, suffering himself from a painful wound, became

interested in her behalf, and prevailed upon her to let him send a

despatch to her father. Here, then, is a short incident of the war,

which might read like romance, but to the unhappy family which are

now bowed down by grief, romance loses its attraction, and the actual

sad, eventful history of poor Emily ---- will be a family record for

generations to come."

In December, 1863, the correspondent of the _Cincinnati Times_,

describing a skirmish between the Federals and a detachment of General

Bragg's army at Ringgold, near Chattanooga, says "Several of the fair

sex were in the Confederate ranks, and certainly conducted themselves

with a great deal of courage. We make no reflection on their taste in

entering the ranks with negroes and greasy grey-backs. Rebellion now

needs every aid on the earth above or in the caverns under it."

At Timonsville, S.C., is the grave of Mrs. Florence Bodwin, of

Philadelphia, Pa. She was a member of a Federal regiment, and as such,

being dressed as a soldier, her sex was not discovered until after her

death.

The following anecdote went the round of the papers in October, 1865,

though the event chronicled must have taken place some time previously,

doubtless before the close of the war:--

"At Theresina, a mulatto girl, nineteen years old, cut her hair,

bandaged her bosom, and dressed as a man, went to the President to

offer herself as a volunteer. The President detected her sex, and

supposed at first that she was mad, or had taken this plan to accompany

a lover; but finding that she was really actuated by patriotism, he

accepted her, and appointed her second sergeant, and she does all the

duties of her post, dressed in the proper uniform."

* * * * *

The Maori War in New Zealand, like the conflicts between the Red Skins

and the Pale Faces in North America, gave many opportunities for the

wives and daughters of settlers to play the heroine. Some of the native

women, too, displayed great prowess, both for and against the English.

A correspondent of the _Irish Times_, writing from Wanganui, under date

of the 7th January, 1866, in describing the native contingent (a force

recruited from the Wanganui River Tribes) to which he was Assistant

Surgeon, says "Numbers of women accompany us, who generally carry the

baggage of the men. This is not their only use in campaigning. They

fight, and fight well, carrying their gun and tomahawk."

* * * * *

During the Austro-Italian war of 1866, a Florence journal related that,

after the battle of Custozza (June 27th), a surgeon of the Italian army

discovered among the wounded a young corporal of Bersaglieri still

alive, notwithstanding three severe injuries in the neck, left arm,

and right leg. When about to dress those wounds the surgeon perceived

that the sufferer was a young woman, who then declared her name to be

Herminia Manelli, and her age twenty. Just before the opening of the

campaign her brother, who was a corporal of Bersaglieri, had fallen

ill, and returned home to his family until his recovery. The sister,

whose parents had previously had some difficulty in preventing from

joining the Garibaldians, took advantage of that circumstance, and,

cutting short her hair, dressed herself in her brother's uniform,

and joined his regiment, her resemblance to him enabling her to pass

unnoticed. Four hours later her regiment was engaged, and she was

wounded on the field of battle. After the discovery of her sex by the

surgeon she was taken to Florence, where she died a few days later.

* * * * *

In the summer of 1868, there was a great deal of talk about an army

of women which had just been raised by the savage Lopez, Dictator of

Paraguay. A correspondent writing from Buenos Ayres under date May

14th, says:--

"An army of women confronts the allies! Lopez has enrolled the Amazons

of Paraguay, and we have entered upon what may be called for the sake

of distinction--the petticoat campaign? Brigadier-General Eliza

Lynch commands the main body of the female army, which is encamped

midway between the pass of the river and a small inland town. On the

road to Villa Rica her right wing, under Mrs. Captain Herrero, has

deployed to the left a little, to hang on the allies should they assail

the position of Tebiquary, held by Mrs. Lieutenant Colonel Margaret

Fereira and her fair brigade of womankind. Can 'stern-visaged Mars'

prove unpropitious?... According to authentic accounts, relays of

women and girls are constantly at the head-quarters of the feminine

commander-in-chief to whom has been entrusted the guerilla portion of

the campaign."

The Brazilian journals were of course indignant at what they termed an

outrage on civilization, and alternately sneered and railed at Lopez's

petticoat _corps d'armée_. Very little was afterwards heard of these

Amazons. Since their first formation, with the exception of a few

stray anecdotes related by travellers and adventurers returning to the

States or to this country, absolutely nothing transpired concerning the

movements of this female army.

* * * * *

Again we meet with female warriors in the struggle between Crete and

Turkey. "Whether they have been effectual defenders of their country,"

says a writer in a newspaper eleven years ago, "or whether their

enthusiasm decreased before the stern necessity of a camp, is hardly

known, for very little intelligence comes from the mountains of Crete."

However, in January, 1869, a body of about fifty Cretan Amazons, in

uniform, was seen at Michali, practising shooting with carbines at a

mark. They were, it is said, very good shots, and had been organised

into a regular corps, with a regimental flag, which was carried by a

_religieuse_ who had turned Amazon.

The Philo-Cretan Committee recognised the patriotism of these Lakkoite

damsels, by providing them with arms (consisting of a rifle of the

English pattern with a sword-bayonet) and handsome uniforms similar to

those worn by the Palikares. This costume included the fez, a corset

embroidered in gold and silver, a short, piquant half-sleeved jacket,

a white petticoat and "continuations," and the most charmingly neat

buckskin gaiters. A cartridge-box hung to the belt, while a havresack

depended from the shoulders. Picturesque sketches of these heroines, in

uniform, appeared in the French and English journals of January, '69.

* * * * *

But while a few of the Cretan women have proved themselves heroines,

bravery has been the character of those of Montenegro for more than

half a century. War against the Mussulman is the object, the engrossing

passion of nearly every Montenegrin--men, women, and children,

cripples even, rush to the fight with enthusiasm. In truth, the

Turkish Government has never been able thoroughly to subdue the Black

Mountain. Women accompany their male relatives in all their expeditions

against the infidels, wives are ever ready to seize up the yataghan

and pistols of a slain husband, and avenge his death. Various heroic

ballads have been sung or recited from time to time in the fastnesses

of the Tsernogora relating the martial deeds of some valiant widow who

has slain Turkish Agas, captured or dispersed, single-handed, whole

companies of the foe, or in other ways distinguished their military

courage and their hatred of the Moslem.

A singular incident is alleged to have taken place some nine years

since on the occasion of a marriage before the chief authorities in

Algeria. The official required the consent of the bride's mother, and

asked if she was present. A sonorous bass voice answered "Yes." The

Mayor looked up and saw a tall soldier before him. "That is well,"

said he. "Let the mother come here. Her consent and signature are

necessary." To the astonishment of all present, the soldier approached

the Mayor with long strides, saluted military fashion, and said--"You

ask for the mother of the bride. She stands before you." "Very well,

sir," replied the Mayor. "Then stand back. I can take no proxy. I must

see the mother--the mother, I tell you." "And I repeat that she stands

before you," rejoined the soldier. "My name is Maria L----. I have been

thirty-six years in the service. I have been through several campaigns,

and obtained the rank of sergeant. Here are my papers--the permission

to wear uniform, and my nomination as sergeant-major." The mayor

carefully examined the documents, and found them perfectly correct.

There was nothing to be done but to complete the marriage of the young

couple. The mother bestowed her blessing fervently with her deep bass

voice in a manner which impressed all present, but the company were

"more startled than touched."

The Brigand chiefs of Southern Italy are the last representatives of

the Condottieri who ravaged the land in olden times. But so far from

improving with the march of intellect and growing more civilized, the

bandits of our days would seem to have very decidedly retrograded as

regards the more polite arts of life; indeed, they are nothing but

savage beasts, who can handle the carbine or the dagger, and have the

passions of avarice and the thirst for gold added to the reckless

cruelty of the tiger. These ferocious brigands are almost invariably

accompanied in their adventurous journey through life by some beautiful

fiend, either the wife or the mistress of the redoubtable chief. These

women are often the most abandoned and worthless of their sex, without

even the virtue of mercy--the tigress is not uncommonly worse than the

tiger.

Amongst those brigand captains who, though almost unknown in Western

Europe, have earned a terrible renown in the South of Italy, none

was more feared and respected some seventeen or eighteen years ago

than Monaco. His deeds of violence and daring audacity rendered him

famous throughout the Neapolitan provinces. His wife, Maria Oliveiro,

a remarkably handsome woman (about twenty years old in 1864), was

his constant companion in all his marauding expeditions. She was

unmistakably brave, but her nature was so ruthless that the sight of

blood rendered her half mad. Monaco was at last slain in a desperate

encounter with the Italian troops near Rossano. Maria was severely

wounded; but without losing her courage or presence of mind, she

planted one knee firmly on her husband's corpse, and continued to

load and fire with extreme rapidity, exciting the admiration even of

her opponents. At last she received a severe wound in the leg, and

was made prisoner. She was tried by court-martial at Cattanzaro, and

condemned to be shot; but this sentence was commuted to thirty years'

penal servitude, and she had not been very long in gaol before the

gaoler fell desperately in love with her, and they fled together. At

a short distance from Cattanzaro they were met by her brothers, also

brigands. They immediately slew the gaoler, who was of no further use,

and Maria formed a new band of brigands, of which she was made captain,

and commenced ravaging the tract of mountainous country lying between

Cattanzaro and the river Crati. The reckless, useless acts of cruelty

excited the indignation of the people for miles round. She sacked the

villages of Spinelli, Cotzenei, and Belvedere; and in spite of the

exertions made by the Italian Government of the province, who, in the

autumn of 1864, despatched two battalions of the line in pursuit of

the band, the rural population were in such dread of Maria that the

soldiers could do nothing.

Another locally famous brigand, Crouo Donatello, was accompanied in his

campaigns by his _inamorata_, who was as brave as he. In an encounter

with the royal troops in August or September, 1863, Donatello,

compelled to fly, left behind him this woman, who fought desperately

before letting herself be taken.

In 1866, in a skirmish between the Papal troops and the brigands in the

neighbourhood of the Eternal City, two of the latter were slain. One of

the corpses proved to be that of a large, good-looking peasant woman,

about thirty years of age, armed and dressed like her comrades. She

was subsequently recognised as the wife of the bandit chief Cedrone;

and the latter was inconsolable for the loss of his brave spouse,

being seen for days and days to weep bitterly, though his followers

surrounded him, proffering empty consolations.

The famous Brigand Pietro Bianchi, some eighteen or nineteen years

since the terror of the district of Nicastro, in the Calabrian

mountains, was accompanied in nearly every expedition by a girl named

Generosa Cardamone (aged about seventeen in 1861, the chief himself

being then twenty), who might frequently be seen on horseback at

the head of the band, encouraging them in the fight. In point of

ferocity and ruthless courage she was worthy of her lover--nay, she

far surpassed him, and is said to have repeatedly cooked human flesh,

and served it up to him and his followers. Bianchi loved the young and

beautiful demon most passionately, and was madly jealous of her. One

day a bandit kissed her, but his audacity was instantly punished by a

score of dagger-stabs dealt by the unerring hand of his chief. Generosa

was deeply religious after a fashion, and marvellously superstitious;

when she was arrested, in 1867, a religious book and a Madonna were

found upon her, which she carried, through a blind idea that they

rendered her invulnerable.

In March, 1867, a lieutenant of gendarmes discovered the cave of

Bianchi at Soveria, and with his own men, aided by a detachment of the

line, forced the brigand and his mistress to surrender, after they had

been the terror of the country for seven years.

De Martino, for some time the worst and most ferocious bandit in

the Abruzzi, was likewise accompanied by his paramour, who had the

character of being more cruel than he was himself. For months the Royal

troops were engaged constantly hunting them up and down the woods. At

last, in August, 1869, they discovered and surrounded the lurking place

of De Martino. The brigand, firing upon the carabineers, by mishap set

the dry twigs of the hut in a blaze, and was burnt alive, together with

the partner of his crimes.

Duke Ernest of Saxe-Coburg Gotha, on the occasion of the 25th

anniversary of his accession, February, 1869, founded an Order of

Decoration to recompense courage in women.

Female Warriors, Vol. 2 (of 2) Memorials of Female Valour and Heroism, from the Mythological Ages to the Present Era. · 第 6 / 7 章

At St. Vincent the heroine was attacked by the yellow fever; and this