Captain Bodeaux, Female Officer in the French Army.—Christian Davies, alias Mother Ross.—Female Soldier in the 20th Foot.—Women of Barcelona.—Hannah Snell, Private in the Line and Marines.—Phoebe Hessel, Private in the 5th Regiment.—Paul Daniel, a Female Recruit.—Hannah Whitney and Anne Chamberlayne, Female Sailors.—Mary Ralphson.—"Pretty Polly Oliver."—Miss Jenny Cameron.—Anne Sophia Detzliffin, Prussian Female Soldier.—Madame de Drucourt (Siege of Louisburg).—Madame Ducharmy (Capture of Guadeloupe).—Chevalier d'Eon.—Deborah Samson, Private, and Molly Macaulay, Sergeant in the American Revolutionary Army.—Elizabeth Canning.—Catherine the Second of Russia and the Princess Daschkova.—DoÑa Rafaela Mora, Female Captain in the Spanish American Service (How Nelson Lost an Eye.)—Female Sailor on Board Admiral Rodney's Ship.

During the eighteenth century there were to be found in nearly every European army, one or more female soldiers. They sometimes held commissions as officers, but more frequently served as non-commissioned officers or privates. Those women and girls who enlisted in the British Army were generally wives or sweethearts of soldiers whose regiments had been ordered abroad, and the women, preferring to encounter the dangers and hardships of a foreign campaign rather than the miseries of separation, disguised themselves in male attire and enlisted in some battalion which was embarking for the seat of war. Sometimes, indeed, women, deserted by their husbands, resolved to follow their unfaithful spouses all over the world: and, unable to afford travelling expenses, enlisted at the first recruiting depÔt, and trusted to chance for meeting with or hearing of the object of their search. As no personal examination of recruits took place in those days, either in Great Britain or elsewhere, there was no way of finding out the imposture until afterwards, more especially as the female soldiers behaved themselves quite as manly as their comrades.

Of course in every country there have been local celebrities whose names even are unknown beyond the frontiers, for a man or woman must perform very great deeds to become famous in foreign lands. Thus it happens, while we are familiar with the names of many an English female soldier, we know of only two or three women who served during the last century in the armies of France. Yet the world well knows that Frenchwomen are second to none in warlike esprit. One of these Gallic warriors was Captain Bodeaux, an officer holding a commission as lieutenant in one of the regiments which went over to Ireland under the command of St. Ruth, to assist James the Second. This gallant officer distinguished herself at the battle of the Boyne, July 1st, 1690, where she met with Mr. Cavanaugh, father of Christian Davies. She stopped at the house of that gentleman (who was also fighting for King James) till about three in the morning, when, being alarmed, they fled together precipitately. Christian Davies describes this officer as "a very handsome young French gentleman," though the real sex of Bodeaux was not unknown to her. At the siege of Limerick, June, 1691, she held Thomond bridge, over the Shannon, with a small body of troops, against the English, till at last she fell, covered with wounds. Such was the bravery of this young French officer that her death was lamented even by the foe. Great was their astonishment when they found their valiant antagonist was a woman.

The most famous woman who has ever served as a private in any modern European army, was Christian (or Christiana) Davies, alias Mother Ross. She was born in 1667, in Dublin, "of parents whose probity acquired them that respect from their acquaintance which they had no claim to from their birth." Her father, Mr. Cavanaugh, was a brewer and maltster, employing upwards of twenty servants, exclusive of those engaged on his farm at Leslipp, where his wife and daughter resided. Christiana never liked sedentary work, and in the matter of education never made much progress. She had barely sufficient patience to learn reading, and to become a good needle-woman. Open air exercises were her delight; ploughing, hay-making, using the flail, and, above all, riding on horseback. "I used," she says, "to get astride upon the horses and ride them bare-backed about the fields and ditches, by which I once got a terrible fall and spoiled a gray mare given to my brother by our grandfather." Mr. Cavanaugh never discovered the offender; but, to purchase the silence of a cowherd who saw her and the mare fall into a dry ditch, she was obliged, for a long time, to give him a cup of ale every night.

In 1685, when the Irish were arming for King James, Mr. Cavanaugh sold his corn and equipped a troop of horse, with which he joined that monarch. After enduring great hardships he was dangerously wounded at the battle of Aughrim, June 12th, 1691, and died a few days after. His property was confiscated by Government.

Previous to this, shortly after the departure of Mr. Cavanaugh from home, the Roman Catholic inhabitants of Leslipp blocked up the door of the parish church during divine service, with logs of wood, butchers' blocks, and any other heavy articles which came to hand. Christiana was at home when this occurred; but her mother being, with others, blockaded in the sacred edifice, she seized up a spit and ran to the rescue. Being resisted by a sergeant, she thrust the spit through his leg; then removing the things which blocked up the door, set the congregation free. Christiana was arrested for wounding the sergeant, but was afterwards liberated.

After the death of her father, Christian went on a visit to her aunt, the landlady of a public-house in Dublin, who, at her death, left the establishment to her niece. The latter married Richard Welsh, a good-looking young fellow who acted as barman and general assistant. After two boys had been born, her happiness was suddenly blighted by the mysterious disappearance of Richard, of whom nothing was heard for several months. At last, when she had given him up for dead, a letter arrived (the twelfth he had written) telling her how, on the day of his disappearance, he had been invited by an old friend on board a transport with recruits on board; the vessel set sail, and they had reached Helvoet Sluys before he could get ashore. Having no way of getting back to Ireland, he enlisted in a foot-regiment.

Christian resolved to follow her husband to Flanders. Letting the public-house, leaving her furniture with different friends, and placing one child with her grandmother and the other with a nurse, she dressed herself in a suit of her husband's clothes, cut her hair short, and went to the "Golden Last," where Ensign Laurence told the new recruit that she was "a clever, brisk young fellow," and enrolled her, under the name of Christopher Welsh, in the Marquis de Pisare's regiment of foot.

The recruits were disembarked at Williamstadt, in Holland. Thence they marched to Gorkhum, where they received their uniforms; and the next day they advanced to Landen, which they reached a day or two before the great battle of July 19th, 1693. Here they were incorporated into their respective battalions. Christian found the drill very easy, "having been accustomed," as she says, "to soldiers, when a girl, and delighted with seeing them exercise. I very soon was perfect," she adds, "and applauded by my officers for my dexterity in going through it."

The same night that she arrived at Landen, being on night-guard at the door of the Elector of Hanover (afterwards George I.), Christian was wounded by a musket-ball which grazed her leg, barely missing the bone. She was thus laid up for two months.

During the summer of 1694, Christian being out with a foraging party, was made prisoner, and brought, together with three-score English and Dutch, to St. Germain-en-Laye. When the ex-Queen of England heard that Christian and her companions were English soldiers, she ordered that each man should have a pound of bread, a pint of wine, and five farthings each per diem, with clean straw every night. But the Dutch prisoners were not allowed these luxuries. The Duke of Berwick, a Marshal of France, visited the prison, and tried to persuade the British to follow his example and enter the service of the Grand Monarque. The chief annoyance which Christian suffered was the fear of being recognised by her cousin, Captain Cavanaugh, a French officer, who visited the prison nearly every day.

About nine days later, the English prisoners were exchanged, and on being set free they waited upon the Queen to thank her for her kindness. Her regiment passed the winter of 1694-5 in Gorkhum, where Christian passed her time "very merrily" by making love to the young and pretty daughter of a wealthy burgher. After a few weeks' courtship "the poor girl grew absolutely fond" of her military wooer. This harmless frolic led to a duel between Private Welsh and a sergeant of the regiment who wished to engage the girl's affections. Having dangerously wounded the sergeant, Christian was ordered under arrest; but the old father, who was in ignorance of the real state of the case, exerted his influence with the authorities, and procured her discharge from the regiment.

Bidding farewell to the girl, under pretence of going to purchase a commission, Christian enlisted in the 6th Dragoons, commanded by Lord John Hayes, and served all through the campaign of 1695, including the siege of Namur. Nothing remarkable happened to her till the Peace of Ryswick, Sept. 20th, 1697, when she was discharged, and went home to Ireland. None of her friends recognised the stalwart dragoon as being identical with Mrs Welsh; so, in place of claiming her property she found other means of support, until the War of the Spanish Succession broke out, in 1701. Returning to Holland, Christian re-enlisted in the 6th Dragoons.

She served through the campaigns of 1701-2, under the Duke of Marlborough, without being wounded. She was one of the captors of Venlo, Sept. 23rd, 1702, which proved a profitable investment for the English, for they found more than thirty pieces of cannon, twenty thousand florins, and a quantity of plate and jewellery. Christian complains that, the Grenadiers having the start of the Dragoons, she "got very little of the plunder." "I got, however," she confesses, "a large silver chalice and some other pieces of plate," which prize was sufficient to console her.

The Dragoons wintered at Venlo, and a night or two after their arrival she was ordered, with others, to escort the Duke of Marlborough along the banks of the Meuse. "During our march," says Christian, "by the darkness of the night we mistook our way, and going up the country fell in with a hogstye where was a sow with five pigs, one of which I made bold with. I was possessed of it some time," she adds, "when one Taylor, a corporal belonging to Brigadier Panton's Regiment of Horse, attempted to spoil me of my booty, whereupon some words arising, he drew, and made a stroke at my head, which I warding with my hand, had the sinew of my little finger cut in two; at the same time, with the butt-end of my pistol I struck out one of his eyes." Pretty discipline for British soldiers!

After serving all through the campaign of 1703, including the battle of Eckeren, and the sieges of Bonn and Lembourg, she was wounded in the hip at the battle of Donawert, July 2nd, 1704. The musket-ball lodged so firmly in the bone that the efforts of three surgeons in the hospital near Schellenberg were insufficient to extract it. Christian with difficulty warded off the discovery of her sex.

She left hospital just in time to assist in plundering the Bavarians. "We spared nothing," says she; "burning or otherwise destroying whatever we could not carry off. The bells of the churches we broke to pieces that we might bring them away with us. I filled three bed-ticks, after having emptied them of the feathers, with bell-metal, men's and women's clothes, some velvets, and about one hundred Dutch caps which I had plundered from a shop." Besides these things she got several pieces of plate, as spoons, mugs, cups, etc.

After the battle of Blenheim, August 2nd, 1704, in which she was in the midst of the fight, under the hottest of the fire, Christian was appointed one of the guard despatched with the prisoners to Breda. Having halted to refresh themselves with a pint of beer and a pennyworth of bread each (the prisoners being allowed the same indulgence), Christian saw the long-lost Richard Welsh, now a sergeant in the Earl of Orkney's regiment of foot, making love to a Dutch woman. She abused him heartily at first, but she soon forgave him. It was agreed that she should remain in the army and pass as his brother. On her return to her regiment she assisted in the siege of Landau. Nothing of any consequence happened to her during the campaign of 1705.

On the 23rd of May, 1706, was fought the great battle of Ramilies. When the French were retreating, Christian, who had fought valiantly during the engagement, was struck in the head by "an unlucky shell" fired from a mortar planted on the steeple of the church. Her skull was fractured, and she was carried to the hospital of MeldrÉ or Meldret, where her head was trepanned. During a ten weeks' illness the long-dreaded discovery of her sex was made. The surgeons sent word to Brigadier Preston that his "pretty Dragoon" was a woman. The Brigadier, who would at first scarcely believe the news, told Christian that he had always looked upon her "as the prettiest fellow, and the best man he had." The story soon spread through the regiment, and Christian was visited by Lord John Hayes and all her officers and comrades. Lord John gave strict orders that she should want for nothing, and promised that her pay as a dragoon should be continued till she had quitted the hospital.

Of course she could no longer stop in the regiment. "Brigadier Preston" she says "made me a present of a handsome silk gown; every one of the officers contributed to furnishing me with whatever was requisite for the dress of my sex, and dismissed me the service with a handsome compliment." Her husband having been questioned relative to their previous acquaintance, it was thought prudent to have them married again; and this second wedding was celebrated with much solemnity, in presence of all the officers, "who, everyone, at taking leave, would kiss the bride, and left me," adds Christian, "a piece of gold, some four or five, to put me in a way of life."

For a short time she carried on the business of cook to the 6th Dragoons; but finding the work too heavy, she turned sutler, and was permitted, as a special favour, to pitch her tent in the front of the army, the other sutlers being driven to the rear. She spent much time in marauding; and one day in 1708, being in male garb, she and her mule were taken prisoner. However, she persuaded the French officer to let her go. Shortly before this she hired herself as cook to the head sutler of the British army, Mr. Dupper, who afterwards kept a tavern on Fish Street Hill, London.

Richard Welsh was slain at the siege of Mons, in September, 1709. Her grief, she tells us, was something terrible. It was on this occasion that she first came to be styled Mother Ross. "Captain Ross came by, who seeing my agony, could not forbear sympathizing with me and dropped some tears, protesting that the poor woman's grief touched him nearer than the loss of so many brave men. This confession from the Captain gave me the nick-name of Mother Ross, by which I became better known than by that of my husband."

Eleven weeks after the death of Welsh, his sorrowing widow was persuaded to bestow her hand on Hugh Jones, Grenadier, who was killed at the siege of St. Venant, 1710. During this and the following year Christian held the post of under-cook in Lord Stair's kitchen.

On the close of the campaign of 1712 she returned to England, and called on the Duke of Marlborough; but he, being in disgrace, advised her to wait on the Duke of Argyle. The latter told Christian to draw up a petition to the Queen. Her majesty received Mother Ross very graciously, and gave her an order on the Earl of Oxford for fifty pounds. But having waited on the Earl several times and seen neither him nor the money, she petitioned the Queen again. Anne granted a second order for the same sum, payable this time on Sir William Windham, and Christian was also put on the pension list for a shilling a day. Sir William at once paid the fifty pounds; but the Earl of Oxford, without speaking to Queen Anne, cut down the pension to five-pence. On the accession of George I., she succeeded in having it raised again to a shilling; and this pension she retained till her death.

Immediately after receiving the money, Christian returned to Dublin; but being unable to recover either her house or furniture, she set up a beershop. She was keeping herself very comfortably, "till my evil genius," she laments, "entangled me in a third marriage." This time the bridegroom was named Davies, and belonged to the Welsh Fusileers. His regiment was ordered, soon after the marriage, to England; Christian therefore sold her effects, and returned to London, where she established a shop in Willow Walk, Tothill Fields, Westminster, for the sale of strong liquors and farthing pies. This was in 1715. She prospered so well, that after the return of her husband from Preston (where he had gone to fight the Pretender), she was able to purchase his discharge; but "in two days after his arrival in London, being drunk, he enlisted in the Guards." During the November of this year, Mother Ross kept a sutler's tent in Hyde Park where the Life and Foot Guards were encamped.

Her husband was a constant source of trouble and vexation. Some friends having obtained his discharge, he spent her money so fast that she was obliged to give up, successively, public-houses at Paddington and in Charles-street, Westminster. She returned to Dublin, when the Lord-Lieutenant granted her the exclusive privilege of selling beer in the Phoenix Park on review-days. Tiring of this, in less than a year, she returned to England; and after living three years in Chester, she entered Chelsea College as a Pensioner. She also succeeded in obtaining a sergeantcy in the College for her husband. Here she resided till her death: being supported by the benevolence of several members of the nobility—principally officers who had known her as Mother Ross. She went to Court twice a-week to keep herself in the minds of her patrons; "but," she laments, "the expense of coach-hire, as both my lameness and age increases, for I cannot walk ten yards without help, is a terrible tax upon their charity, and at the same time many of my old friends no longer going to Court, my former subsistence is greatly diminished from what it was."

For some months previous to her death Christian Davies's health was undermined by dropsy, scurvy, and other disorders. But the chief cause of her last illness was sitting up several nights by the bed-side of her husband. This brought on a severe cold, which threw her into a fever, of which she died, July 7th, 1739. She was interred with military honours in the burial-ground of Chelsea College. Her autobiography, edited by Daniel Defoe, was published in 1740. A second edition came out in 1741, with a vignette frontispiece representing Christian Davies first in her Dragoon's uniform, and then in the dress of a sutler.

According to the embarkation returns of the 20th Foot, dated 1st July, 1702, preserved among the Harleian MSS. at the British Museum, one of the soldiers in Captain St. Clair's Company was found to be a woman. The regiment was embarking to join the expedition against Cadiz.

During the war of the Spanish Succession, Catalonia having declared against Philip, the French claimant to the crown, was invaded and ravaged by the forces of Louis Quatorze. Barcelona, the capital, was invested for several months, and the formidable artillery of France played, almost unceasingly, on the walls. But the people, nothing daunted by the arrival of Marshal Berwick with twenty thousand men to reinforce the besiegers, made a most resolute defence. All who could bear arms flew to aid in the defence; the priests and the women enrolled themselves in the ranks, and fought with the same desperate valour as the rest. Their courage, however, was unavailing; for the city was taken by assault, Sept. 11th, 1714.

Hannah Snell, another British heroine, was born in Fryer-street, Winchester, on the 23rd of April, 1723. Military predilections ran in the family; her grandfather served under King William and the Duke of Marlborough, and was slain in the battle of Malplaquet. Her father, however, was a simple dyer and hosier. Hannah was the youngest but one of a family of three sons and six daughters.

On the death of her father and mother in 1740, Hannah came to London, and lived for some time in Ship-street, Wapping, in the house of one of her sisters, Mrs. Gray, whose husband was a carpenter. She had not resided in the house very long before she became acquainted with James Summs, a Dutch sailor, whom she married, Jan. 6th, 1743, after a courtship of about two years. Her marriage was not a happy one. After squandering the little property belonging to his wife, spending it in the lowest debauchery, James became heavily involved in debt, and deserted her altogether. Hannah, left without the means of support, was obliged to return to the house of her sister, where, two months after, her child, a girl, was born.

Notwithstanding his vile conduct, Mrs. Summs still dearly loved her husband; and on the death of her child, she resolved to set out in search of the truant. Dressing herself in a suit of clothes belonging to her brother-in-law, which, together with his name, she borrowed, Hannah left London, Nov. 23rd, 1743, and reached Coventry without hearing any news of her missing husband. On the 27th of the same month she enlisted, under the name of James Gray, in General Guise's regiment of Foot (the 6th, or Royal First Warwickshire). After remaining about three weeks in the town, during which she made numberless inquiries about James Summs, Hannah was sent with seventeen comrades to join her regiment at Carlisle.

She was soon very proficient in the drill; but at the same time she had the misfortune to incur the enmity of Davis, a sergeant in her company, who wished to employ the new recruit in a somewhat dishonourable affair with a girl who lived in Carlisle. Hannah, however, disclosed the real intentions of the sergeant to the intended victim, and gained the love of the girl, while she made a bitter enemy of Davis. The latter, from seeing Hannah and the other very frequently together, grew terribly jealous; he seized the first opportunity to charge his supposed rival with neglect of duty. Hannah was sentenced to receive six hundred lashes. After five hundred had been administered, the officers interceded, and obtained for her the remission of the other hundred.

The tyranny of Davis soon became unbearable; and, to make matters worse, a carpenter from Worcester, who had lodged in the house of Hannah's brother-in-law, enlisted in the regiment, and she was in constant terror lest he should recognise and betray her. To get away without the discovery of her sex was now the great object of her thoughts. She borrowed a small sum of money from the girl in Carlisle, deserted, and set off on foot for Portsmouth. About a mile from Carlisle she saw several men and women picking peas; their clothes lay about, at a short distance, and Hannah very speedily exchanged her soldier's coat for an old jacket.

At Liverpool she entered a small public-house; and, by affecting to make love to the landlady, made the landlord so jealous that a match of "fisticuffs" ensued. Boniface, however, got the worst of it, and was compelled to keep his bed all next day. Hannah borrowed some money of the landlady, and made the best of her way to Chester, where she took genteel lodgings in a private house.

It chanced that a pretty young mantua-maker lodged in the same house. Hannah contrived to make the acquaintance of the girl, and speedily won her heart, together with five guineas. The handsome young suitor levanted to Winchester, where, in an attempt on the heart of a widow, she met her match. She speedily quitted the town, with only a few shillings in her pocket.

In about a month from the day she left Carlisle, Hannah reached Portsmouth, where she enlisted in Colonel Fraser's Regiment of Marines. With others of her regiment, she embarked, three weeks later, for the East Indies. The "Swallow" formed part of Admiral Boscawen's fleet. Hannah soon earned the praises of the officers for her dexterity in washing, mending, and cooking. Mr. Wyegate, Lieutenant of Marines, was so greatly interested in the young private, that he invited her to become one at the officers' mess.

The "Swallow" suffered from some terrible storms, which destroyed almost all her rigging, and reduced the vessel almost to the condition of a wreck. It was refitted at Gibraltar; proceeding thence by the Cape of Good Hope to the Mauritius, which Admiral Boscawen unsuccessfully attacked. Thence the fleet sailed to Fort St. David on the Coromandel coast; where the marines being disbanded, joined the British force encamped before Areacoping. The place surrendered after a siege of ten days. During the siege Hannah displayed so much courage that she received the commendations of all her officers.

The British next laid siege to Pondicherry; but after suffering terrible hardships, they were forced by the rainy season to raise the siege in eleven weeks. Hannah was one of the first body of British soldiers who forded the river, breast high, under an incessant fire from the French batteries. She was also for seven nights successively on duty in the picket-ground, and worked exceedingly hard for upwards of fourteen days in the trenches.

She was dangerously wounded in one of the attacks. During this action she fired thirty-seven rounds, and received in return six shots in her right leg, five in the left leg, and a dangerous wound in the abdomen; the last-named being excessively painful. She was terrified lest these wounds would lead to the discovery of her sex; so in place of letting the army-surgeons dress all her wounds, she kept silence about the most dangerous of them, though it was at the risk of her life. Entrusting the secret to no one but a black woman who waited on her, Hannah extracted the bullet with her finger and thumb; the negress obtained lint, salve, and other necessaries for dressing, and the wound was soon perfectly cured.

Hannah was removed for the cure of her other wounds to the hospital at Cuddalore; and before her recovery, the greater part of the fleet had sailed. She was sent on board the "Tartar Pink," and performed all the regular duties of a sailor, till the return of the fleet from Madras, when she was turned over to the "Eltham" man-of-war. On board this ship she sailed to Bombay. The vessel sprang a leak, and they were obliged to stop here five weeks to repair.

One night the Lieutenant of the "Eltham," who commanded in the absence of Captain Lloyd, wishing to pass the time agreeably, asked Hannah for a song. She declined, on the plea of being unwell; but the officer would take no denial. Hannah became obstinate, but soon she had cause to regret her folly. Shortly after, she was accused of stealing a shirt belonging to one of her comrades. The Lieutenant, having a grudge against Hannah, ordered her to be put in irons; and after five days' confinement, ordered her to the gangway, where she received five lashes. The shirt was afterwards found in the box of the very man who had complained of losing it.

Returning to Fort St. David, the "Eltham" rejoined the squadron, which departed soon after on its homeward voyage. Hannah was terribly "chaffed" during the voyage because she had no beard; and she became known among the sailors by the name of Miss Molly Gray. But in place of resenting this, Hannah, to show she was as good a man as any of them, plunged headlong into all the amusements and enjoyments of the others, and they soon forgot the old nickname, for which they substituted that of "Hearty Jemmy."

One night, in a house of entertainment at Lisbon, she learned, from an English sailor who had been in a Dutch ship at Genoa, that James Summs, her husband, was dead. He had murdered a gentleman of high position in Genoa, and for this crime he was put into a bag full of stones, and flung into the sea.

The British fleet arrived at Spithead in 1750. Hannah left the "Eltham," and came to London, where she was cordially welcomed by her sister. The strange story of Hannah Snell soon became generally known; and as she had a good voice, the managers of the Royalty Theatre, Wellclose Square, engaged her to appear before the footlights as Bill Bobstay, Firelock, and other military and naval heroes, and to go through the manual and platoon exercises with a musket. But she did not long remain on the stage, as, in consideration of the wounds she received during the siege of Pondicherry, she was put on the out-pensioners' list at Chelsea Hospital. Her pension was increased by a special grant to twenty pounds a year, and paid regularly to the day of her death. With the assistance of some friends she set up a public-house at Wapping, by which she realized a very good income. On one side of the sign-board there was painted the figure of a jovial British tar, on the other a portrait of herself in her marine's uniform. Underneath the last was inscribed, "The Widow in Masquerade, or the Female Warrior."

Hannah preferred masculine attire, and continued to wear men's clothes for the rest of her life. She lived long to enjoy her prosperity; but during the latter years of her life she became a lunatic, and died, at the age of sixty-nine, in Bedlam.

Phoebe Hessel (or Hassel) was for many years a private in the 5th Regiment, and served under the Duke of Cumberland in many engagements, amongst others the battle of Fontenoy. The fatigues and hardships of war certainly did not tend to shorten her days. Born during the reign of Queen Anne, she lived to see the accession of George IV. Indeed, it was through the liberality of the last-named monarch that Phoebe was enabled to live comfortably during the latter years of her life. When the Prince Regent visited Brighton, he saw old Phoebe, who was living there, maintained by some of the more benevolent inhabitants. Having heard her strange story, the Prince told some one to ask her what sum she required to make her comfortable.

"Half-a-guinea a week," replied Phoebe, "will make me as happy as a princess."

This annuity was, by order of the Prince Regent, paid to her as long as she lived.

Phoebe Hessel was a woman of good information, and very communicative. Her stories were always worth hearing. She retained all her faculties till within a few hours of her death, which took place Dec. 12th, 1821. She was buried in Brighton Churchyard, and a tombstone erected over her grave by public subscription. The following inscription was carved thereon:—

"Sacred to the memory of Phoebe Hessel, born Sept. 1st, 1713. She served for many years as a private soldier in the 5th regiment, in different parts of Europe, and in 1745 fought under the Duke of Cumberland in the battle of Fontenoy, where she received a bayonet wound in the arm; her long life which commenced in the reign of queen Anne, induced his present Majesty George IV. to grant her a pension. She died at Brighton, where she had long resided, Dec. 12th, 1821, aged 108 years."

In August, 1761, as a sergeant was exercising some recruits on board a transport at Portsmouth, he noticed that one of them, who had enlisted under the name of Paul Daniel, had a more prominent breast than the others. When the firing was over, the sergeant sent for Daniel to the cabin, and told him his suspicion that he was a woman. After some evasions the recruit confessed her sex; and said that she had a husband, to whom she was devotedly attached, who, after squandering a plentiful fortune, had reduced himself and her to beggary, and had then enlisted. His regiment had been ordered to Germany in 1759 to serve against the French, and had remained abroad ever since. Not having heard from him for two years, she had resolved to roam the world in search of him. She heard that the British Government were sending more troops to Germany, so she enlisted in one of the regiments ordered thither, thinking to meet her husband. When the discovery of her sex frustrated this design, she declared herself to be inconsolable.

In October of the same year, a young woman aged about twenty, attired in nautical garb, was seized at Plymouth by the Press-gang, and sent to Captain Toby. On her capture she was placed for safety in the town jail. Not relishing her imprisonment, she roundly abused Captain Toby, told him she was a woman, that her name was Hannah Whitney, that she was born in Ireland, and had served on board several British men-of-war for upwards of five years. She concluded by informing the astounded captain that she would never have discovered her sex if they had not placed her in a common jail. Of course she was immediately released.

There is (or was) a monument in Chelsea church, commemorative of the masculine courage of Anne Chamberlayne, only daughter of Edward Chamberlayne, Doctor of Laws. She appears to have been infected with an ardour for naval glory by her two brothers, who were both distinguished officers on board men-of-war. Putting on the dress of a sailor, she joined the crew of a fine ship, commanded by one of her brothers; and in an engagement with the French, she fought most gallantly for upwards of six hours.

On the 27th of June, 1808, died at Liverpool Mary Ralphson, a Scottish heroine. She was born in Lochaber, June 1st, 1698; and married Ralph Ralphson, then a private in the British army. She followed her husband in all his campaigns under the Duke of Cumberland, and was present with him in several famous engagements. On the breaking out of the war in French Flanders she embarked with the troops, and shared their toils and vicissitudes. Being present on the field of Dettingen during the heat of the conflict, surrounded with heaps of the slain, she saw a wounded dragoon fall dead by her side. She disguised herself in his clothes, and regained the British camp; then returned with her husband to England. After this she accompanied him in his later campaigns under the Duke of Cumberland. She lived to a fine old age, and was supported during her declining years chiefly by some benevolent ladies of Liverpool.

There is just a hint of a loyal Jacobite heroine in a curious old Scotch ballad called "Polly Oliver's Ramble." The song commences:—

There is an old song on the Pretender which appears to be a parody on this ballad. This begins:—

In June, 1745, Charles Edward Stuart, the young Pretender, landed in Scotland to assert his father's right to the British crown. He was joined by most of the Highland chieftains with their clans, and he sent to all those lairds who had not yet paid their allegiance, to do so without delay. Lochiel, his lieutenant, wrote to Cameron, the Laird of Glendessary, commanding him to appear at head-quarters immediately, with as many of his clan, armed, as he could muster in so short a notice.

The laird was a minor, and, moreover, a youth of little capacity; so his aunt, Miss Jenny Cameron, roused the clan to arms, and marched, at the head of two hundred and fifty claymores, to the camp of Bonnie Prince Charlie. She rode into camp on a bay gelding decked out in green trappings, trimmed with gold. She wore a sea-green riding habit with scarlet lappets edged with gold. Her hair was tied behind in loose buckles, and covered by a velvet cap with scarlet feathers. In her hand, in lieu of a whip, she carried a drawn sword.

A female soldier was a sight not to be seen every day. The Prince immediately quitted the lines to receive her. Miss Jenny rode up to him without the slightest embarrassment; and giving the military salute, told him "as her nephew was not able to attend the royal standard, she had raised men, and now brought them to his highness; that she believed them ready to hazard their lives in his cause; and that, although at present they were commanded by a woman, yet she hoped they had nothing womanish about them; for she found that so glorious a cause had raised in her own heart every manly thought and quite extinguished the woman. What effect then must it have on those who have no feminine fear to combat, and are free from the incumbrance of female dress. These men," she added, "are yours; they have devoted themselves to your service, they bring you hearts as well as hands. I can follow them no farther," she said, "but I shall pray for your success."

The clansmen then passed in review before the prince. When this was over, he conducted Miss Cameron to his tent, where she was entertained with the utmost courtesy and hospitality. Prince Charlie gave her the title of "Colonel Cameron," and by this epithet she was distinguished for many years.

Miss Jenny remained with the Jacobite army until it invaded England, and joined it again on its return, in Annandale. She was still in camp in January, 1746, and fought in the battle of Falkirk on the 23rd; when she was made prisoner, and lodged in Edinburgh Castle. She was ultimately set at liberty, and returned to the guardianship of her weak-minded nephew.

A Highland song was composed in her honour, relating how:

Anne Sophia Detzliffin, who served four years in the Prussian army, was born in 1738 at Treptow on the Rega. In 1757, during the Seven Years' War, she was excited by a thirst for glory to quit her father's house and go to Colberg, where she enlisted in Prince Frederic's regiment of cuirassiers. She remained in this corps for two years, and fought in several actions; in one of which, near Bamberg, she received a sabre-wound in her left arm.

She next fought in the battle of Kunnersdorff. Her regiment returned some days later to Saxony, where Anne fell dangerously ill, and was sent to the hospital of Meissen. She soon recovered, but having no opportunity for rejoining her regiment, she enlisted in a battalion of Grenadiers, which was decimated shortly after in the actions of Strechlin and Torgau, in 1760. In the latter, fought on Nov. 3rd, Sophia Detzliffin received two severe wounds on the head, and was captured by the Austrians, who took her to the hospital at Dresden.

When she had almost recovered, the heroine found means to escape from the hospital. Passing through the Austrian outposts without being discovered, she enlisted (in 1761) with Colonel Colignon, who sent her to a regiment of Le Noble's Volunteers.

After serving in this corps for two months, she was accused on the 14th of July by one of her comrades of robbing him of fourteen-pence. There was not the slightest foundation for the accusation; but a subaltern immediately placed her under arrest. Anne was determined not to submit to such an indignity. Sending for her lieutenant, she told that she was a female, and declared that during four years' service in various regiments she had never once been ordered under arrest, nor even received a blow for neglect of duty. She concluded by telling the officer that after this insult she would no longer remain in the army—which was, however, a needless remark, as she would not have been permitted to stop after her sex was known.

This heroine, when she quitted the army, was twenty-three years old, with strongly-marked features, and a brown complexion.

On the 8th of June, 1758, General (afterwards Lord) Amherst, with an army of twelve thousand men, in which General Wolfe served as a brigadier, landed on the island of Cape-Breton, in Canada, and commenced the siege of Louisbourg. This town was so strongly fortified that the French, believing it to be impregnable, left only two thousand eight hundred men for its defence. The military commander, the Chevalier de Drucourt, was a brave and resolute soldier, and made a gallant defence. The British, however, determined to make up for all their recent disasters, commenced the siege with more than ordinary vigour and energy. The Chevalier was ably assisted in the defence by his wife; who, appearing on the walls among the common soldiers, exhorted them to fight bravely in defence of the town. And not only did she thus cheer them by encouraging words; she carried round food and ammunition to the exhausted soldiers, and occasionally took her turn at the guns, which she loaded and fired with skill and rapidity. But the efforts of the Chevalier and his wife were of no avail against the superior numbers of the English. Louisbourg surrendered on the 26th of June; and the Chevalier and Madame de Drucourt were made prisoners. However, General Amherst treated his brave captives with the greatest respect and hospitality.

In 1759, when the British were besieging Guadaloupe, the native planters were incited to resist the invaders by M. Dutril, the French Governor. Amongst others, Madame Ducharmy, wife of a planter, armed her servants and negroes, and led them to an attack on the British forces.

Amongst the celebrities of the eighteenth century, none was more famous than the Chevalier d'Eon. Even before the strange question as to his real sex had been raised, the Chevalier was well known in every European court as a skilful diplomatist and a brave soldier. In 1761, having attained the summit of his glory in the political world, he sighed for military renown. As aide-de-camp to Marshal Broglio, he distinguished himself most highly against the British and Prussians. Being entrusted with the removal of the military stores from Hoxter, which the French were evacuating, he passed the Weser with several boats, under a heavy fire from the enemy, and saved all the baggage. Shortly after this he was wounded in the head and thigh in a skirmish at Ultrop.

On the 7th September, at the head of the Grenadiers de Champagne and the Swiss Guards, the Chevalier attacked a Highland regiment ("Montagnards Ecossais," Broglio styles them in his despatch) near the village of Meinsloff, and after a slight skirmish, drove them back to the British camp. At Osterwick, with about fifty dragoons and hussars, D'Eon charged a Prussian battalion six or seven hundred strong, which was intercepting the communications of the French with Wolfembutel. The Prussians, seized with a panic, threw down their arms, and surrendered. The capture of Wolfembutel by Marshal Saxe was the result of this brilliant action.

The preliminaries of peace in September, 1762, terminated the Chevalier's military career, and he returned to the political world, where he had already made himself so distinguished. He was sent to London, as Secretary of Legation under the Duc de Nivernois, the Ambassador-Extraordinary. On the return of the Duc to Paris, the Chevalier remained in London first as resident, and afterwards as minister plenipotentiary at the Court of St. James's. At this period his star was at its zenith. Fortune lavished her favours upon him with the most profuse liberality. Suddenly the wheel turned; and, without any reason being assigned, D'Eon was dismissed from all his appointments, and compelled to reside, disgraced, in London. The French ministers who had negotiated the peace now effected his ruin. The treaty had been considered disgraceful to France, both by the king and the people; and the negotiators, afraid of the Chevalier, who knew too much, found means to disgrace him. Louis XV., however, settled upon D'Eon a pension of twelve hundred livres.

During the Chevalier's residence in London, suspicions arose in the minds of several persons that D'Eon was a disguised woman. The notion soon reached the Continent; and both in England and abroad, some very extraordinary wagers were made on the subject. In July, 1777, a trial took place before Lord Chief Justice Mansfield on an action brought by a Mr. Hayes against a Mr. Jacques, the latter of whom had received several premiums of fifteen guineas, to return one hundred whenever it should be proved, beyond a doubt, that the Chevalier D'Eon was a woman. MM. Louis Legoux and de Morande deposed to this as a fact so thoroughly established, that the defendant's counsel actually pleaded that the wager was unfair, because the plaintiff knew, before it was laid, that the Court of France had treated with the Chevalier as a woman. The plaintiff, however, obtained a verdict, which was afterwards set aside on the ground of the bet being illegal.

Shortly after the conclusion of the trial, the Chevalier d'Eon, for some unaccountable reason, put on female attire, which he contrived to wear until his death.

Everybody now believed that D'Eon was a woman. Several portraits were published representing him in various characters—as an officer of dragoons, as a French minister, as a fashionable lady, etc. Mr. Hooper, of Ludgate-hill, published a mezzotinto engraving of the Chevalier as Pallas, a casque on her head, a lance in her right hand, and the Ægis on her left arm. Round the edge of the shield were the words At nunc dura dedit vobis discrimina Pallas. On each side were drums, muskets, pyramids of cannon-balls, heavy pieces of ordnance, and a pair of colours on which were written, Impavidam serient ruinÆ. In the middle distance might be seen a citadel and a camp. The lower part of the engraving contained representations of the principal events of the Chevalier's life, with a eulogy, in English, on his talents and virtues. After rapturously praising the genius, the courage, the personal beauty of D'Eon, this eulogy concludes by saying that "her military comrades offer this homage as an eternal monument of their affection."

The breaking out of the French Revolution deprived D'Eon of his pension. He returned to France in 1792 and offered his services to the National Assembly. But they were declined; and on his return to England his name was placed on the list of Emigrants. He was now plunged into the depths of poverty, and supported himself as best he could by giving lessons in fencing. But he depended chiefly on the kindness of ElisÉe, first surgeon to Louis XVIII., and other friends. He died May the 21st, 1810, when ElisÉe assisted in the dissection of his body; and declared that the Chevalier belonged to the male sex.

During the American War of Independence several women donned masculine attire and enlisted in the Revolutionary Army. One of these heroines was named Deborah Samson. Born at Plymouth, U.S., of very poor parents, she was received at an early age into a respectable family, where the members treated her with great kindness. Her education was at first totally neglected, though she remedied this, to the best of her ability, by teaching herself to read and write; later in life she saved enough to pay for her schooling. In 1778, having dressed herself in male attire, she enlisted under the name of Robert Shirtliffe for the whole term of the war.

Deborah was used to all kinds of hardships, so the fatigues incident to her new life had as little effect on her as on her comrades. Her courage and obedience to military discipline, soon gained for her the esteem of the officers. She served as a volunteer in several expeditions, where her regiment was not engaged, and received two severe wounds—one in the head, the other in the shoulder. She managed, however, to avoid the disclosure of her sex.

At last Deborah Samson was seized with a brain fever in Philadelphia. The physician who attended her made the dreaded discovery, and sent word to the colonel of her regiment. When her health was restored, the colonel sent her with a letter to General Washington. Deborah saw that the truth was known, and it was with great reluctance she obeyed. Washington read the missive, without speaking a word. When he had finished, he handed Deborah Samson a discharge in which was enclosed some money and a letter containing good advice.

Some years after her discharge Deborah married Benjamin Garnett, of Sharon, Massachusetts. For her services as a revolutionary soldier, she was presented with a grant of land and a pension for life.

Another American heroine was Molly Macauley, a Pennsylvanian woman, who rose to the rank of sergeant in the national army, and fought bravely in several battles and skirmishes. Nobody suspected that she was other than she seemed to be—a brave, enthusiastic young American patriot. She was tall and stout, rough-looking, with all the manners of a soldier. In the enthusiasm of the moment she would swing her sabre over her head, and hurrah for "Mad Anthony," as General Wayne was styled.

She was wounded at Brandywine, and her sex discovered. She then returned home.

Another woman, whose name was long remembered in American homes, was Elizabeth Canning. She was at Fort Washington, her husband was slain, she took his place at a gun, loading, priming, and firing with good effect, till she was wounded in the breast by a grape shot.

Besides these examples, many women were frequently detected, disguised, in the American armies; and as they endured the same privations, with even less murmuring than the men, there was nothing, save accident, to reveal their sex. The instances are numerous of women and girls who aided in the defence of private houses. Their names, however, have very seldom reached Europe.

When Catherine the Second of Russia was conspiring to dethrone her husband, Peter III., she based her hopes of success almost entirely on the belief that the Imperial Guard would declare in her favour. On the 26th of June, 1762, she was seated in her palace at St. Petersburg, taking a slight repast in company with her early friend and confidant Catherine Romanowna, Princess of Daschkow, or Daschkova. The latter was born in 1744, a descendant of the noble family of Woronzoff, and became a widow at the early age of eighteen. She applied all her woman's wit to place Catherine on the throne. When their repast was concluded, Catherine proposed that they should ride at the head of their troops to Peterhoff; and to make themselves more popular with the soldiers, the Empress borrowed the uniform of Talitzen, a captain in the Preobraginsky Guards, while the Princess Daschkova donned the regimentals of Lieutenant Pouschkin, in which, she says, she looked "like a boy of fifteen." It chanced by good luck that these uniforms were the same which had been worn from the time of Peter the Great until superseded by the Prussian uniform introduced by Peter III.

On the 29th July the Empress and her friend, still in uniform, passed in review twelve thousand soldiers, besides numberless volunteers. As Catherine rode along the ranks, amidst the cheers of the soldiers, a young ensign, observing that she had no tassel on her sword, untied his own and presented it. Thirty years afterwards, this man died a field-marshal and a Prince of the Russian Empire. His name was Potemkin.

It is said the Princess (though she makes no mention of it in her memoirs) requested, as the reward of her services, to be given the command of the Imperial Guard. The Empress refused; and the Princess, finding her inflexible, gave up her military aspirations and devoted herself to study. After her return from abroad in 1782, she was appointed Director of the Academy of Sciences, and President of the newly-established Russian Academy. She wrote much in her native tongue; amongst other works, several comedies. She died at Moscow in 1810.

It is a curious fact that no one has been able to say precisely when and where Nelson lost his left eye. Some say that the disaster occurred during the siege of Bastia, in 1793, while others decide that it was at the siege of Calvi. According to Signor D. Liberato Abarca, general in the service of the Nicaraguan Republic, both these accounts are false. He says that it was in the year 1780, when the future "god of the seas," then a post-captain in the royal navy, was cruising along the coast of Central America, that he received the wound which added him to the list of one-eyed warriors. After inflicting every possible injury on the Spanish colonies, Nelson resolved to take the Castle of San Carlos de Nicaragua by assault. He rowed up the river of San Juan, which flows into the Gulf of Mexico, with a flotilla of launches and other flat-bottomed boats. The Spanish commander was laid up in bed with a severe illness; and the garrison, terrified at the imposing preparations of the English sailors, hastily evacuated the fort. DoÑa Rafaela Mora, the wife or daughter of the commander, was left alone in the castle; and with great—what would at first sight appear to be reckless—daring resolved to drive the enemy from before the place. The guns were pointed towards the river, and nearly all loaded. Snatching up a burning match which the terrified soldiers had thrown down in their hasty retreat, Rafaela fired all the cannons one after another. One of the balls struck the boat in which Nelson stood; a splinter from the bulwark hit him in the face, just below the left eye. Such was the force of the blow, he was knocked down, and rendered perfectly insensible. This disaster broke up the siege, and the flotilla descended the stream with all speed.

The heroine received by royal decree the brevet of a captain on active service, together with a full suit of regimentals, which she was permitted to wear whenever she pleased. Besides this, a pension was settled upon her for the rest of her life. General Thomas Martinez, Director of the Republic of Nicaragua, is a descendant of DoÑa Rafaela Mora. General Abarca says the truth of this story is proved incontestably by documents which he has seen in the archives of the city of Granada, in Nicaragua.

During a sea-fight between the British and French fleets, Admiral Rodney observed a woman helping at one of the guns on the main deck of his ship. He asked her what brought her there?

"An't please your honour," said she, "my husband is sent down to the cock-pit wounded, and I am here to supply his place. Do you think, your honour," she added, "I am afraid of the French?"

After the battle was over, the Admiral sent for the woman, and told her that she had been guilty of a breach of discipline in being on board at all. However, he modified his rebuke by a gift of ten guineas.