 
T The Furies were the female warriors of the Reign of Terror. When we think of their ferocious bravery, their barbarous, maniacal cruelty, the ascendency which they held, even over the great Republican Though many of the large towns possessed Furies in those days, Paris was their proper home. There they lived on the sight, the smell, the taste of human blood. To picture their history rightly, the pen should be dipped in blood. Blood, since they were denied bread was all they cared for; and when aristocratic heads grew scarce, these fiends turned on one another, like famished wolves, to glut their insatiable thirst. The Guillotine was a central rallying point for the Furies. Round it they danced and sang by day; its steps formed their pillow by night. There they crowded together—Tricoteuses, Fileuses, Poissardes—shouting, gesticulating, screaming the "Marseillaise" or the "Ça Ira" with their wild, demoniac voices, as they watched the red cart deposit its living freight at the foot of the National Razor. When hunger pressed them very sore, they would snatch up swords, pikes, or scythes, and rush in There was always some female leader, brave and eloquent, round whom the Furies would rally, and who was, if possible, more bloodthirsty, more ruthless than the rest. The great leaders of the Parisian Women were Rose Lacombe, the actress, and ThÉroigne (or Lambertine) de MÉricourt, the Amazon of LiÉge. These two women, equally beautiful, equally brave, and equally popular, had wholly different reasons for plunging into the seething whirlpool of blood. Rose Lacombe (who was born in 1768, and was therefore past twenty when the Revolution broke out), appears to have joined in the scenes of atrocity through a love of excitement, a wish to be a leader, that feeling so natural in the breast of an actress. She was a wild, excitable girl, and although not great on the stage, had a certain fiery eloquence, which, though bombastic, exaggerated, even grotesque, was suited to an audience chiefly gathered from the Halles. ThÉroigne de MÉricourt, however, had quite another object in coming forward as a Republican leader; this was an unquenchable thirst for revenge on the entire aristocracy, to one of whom she owed the shame of her life. ThÉroigne was the daughter of a wealthy farmer in the village of MÉricourt near LiÉge, and received a finished education. When scarcely seventeen her excessive beauty attracted the notice of a young Belgian noble, who owned a chÂteau close by her father's home. In those days of the old rÉgime an aristocrat would never have recovered the disgrace of marrying a farmer's daughter; so the consequences of their mutual passion might easily have been foreseen. Deserted by her lover, ThÉroigne fled to England, and remained here for some months, in an agony of shame and grief. When Paris rose against the ill-starred Louis Seize, she returned to France, and became acquainted with Mirabeau, and through him she was introduced to to the AbbÉ SiÉyes, Joseph ChÉnier, Brissac, Danton, Marat, Robespierre, Camille Desmoulins, Ronsin, Romme, and others of the Republican party. ThÉroigne de MÉricourt was barely eighteen in '89, when the first rumblings of the storm were heard. Plunging headlong into the vortex of Revolution, she soon acquired for her daring the names of "the Amazon of LiÉge" and "the Jeanne d'Arc of the Revolution;" while her surpassing beauty procured for her the title of "La Belle LiÉgoise." Attired in a blood-coloured silk riding-habit, and a hat surmounted by a magnificent plume of feathers, she made herself conspicuous in all those deadly On the 5th of October, ThÉroigne and Rose led eight or ten thousand starving Parisian Women against Versailles. Previous to this, Rose had commanded a body of Furies in the attack on the HÔtel de Ville, August 7th. ThÉroigne rode to Versailles astride on a cannon. By her side came Cut-Throat Jourdan, the "Man with the Long Beard." The expedition owed its success almost entirely to the Amazon of LiÉge. The triumph of the people was complete. Le Boulanger, la BoulangÈre, et le petit Mitron were brought to Paris, escorted by a seething, howling mob, preceded (as a hint to the aristocrats) by two pikes, on which were placed the heads of two Gardes-du-Corps. Several Poissardes performed the return journey on the backs of cannon. For a time the popularity of ThÉroigne de MÉricourt One evening ThÉroigne proposed that the Temple of the Representatives of the People should be erected on the site of the Bastille, the scene of their first triumph. "To found and embellish this edifice," said she, "let us strip ourselves of our ornaments, our gold, our jewels. I will be the first to set the example." And with these words she tore off all her jewels and flung them on the table. Her power increased every day. She was appointed commander of the 3rd corps of the army of the Fauxbourgs; and so great was her ascendancy over the mob, that she could by a single word acquit or condemn a victim. She thus became both feared and hated by the Aristocrats. One day when she was at the zenith of her power, she recognised her faithless lover. He sought to avert his impending A fearful doom was reserved for the beautiful and unfortunate ThÉroigne de MÉricourt. Like Robespierre, she believed that her power was such that she could at any moment arrest the progress of the Revolution. Only a few months after the death of her seducer, the very Furies whom she had commanded, by whom she had been almost worshipped, suspecting her of being a Girondist, turned against their Amazon leader with all the fury they had formerly displayed against Marie Antoinette. They surrounded her on the terrace of the Tuileries, May 31st, 1793, stripped her naked, and subjected her to a public flogging. Abandoned and despised by all, the beautiful amazon became a raving lunatic. Years crept on. The Directory superseded the Convention, the Consulate the Directory, the Empire the Consulate, and the Restoration the Empire, and still, in a cold grated cell of the BicÊtre, in Paris, a gibbering, white-haired, wrinkled hag crawled on all fours to and from the bars of the window, whence she shrieked forth warlike orations to phantom meetings of Republicans; again and again calling for the blood of Suleau, the Royalist author. From the day of her fall till her death in 1817, Rose Lacombe terminated her career more happily than her sister-in-arms. True, she also had her downfall, but it did not terminate so horribly. She fell violently in love with a young nobleman who was imprisoned in one of the dungeons of the Republic. With her usual wild impetuosity she tried to save him; but so far from rescuing him, she very nearly shared his fate. From this day Rose Lacombe's power was gone. Her voice was no longer listened to as it had once been. Jacobins and Cordeliers no longer strove to gain her support. Taking a more sensible view of the matter than one would expect, she retired from public life, and became a small shopkeeper. In this capacity she ended her days, selling petty articles over a counter all day long. The date of her death is unknown. The citizens of Lyons, unlike those of Paris, were devoted to the Royal cause. At last the Convention resolved to tolerate this no longer; and General Kellermann was despatched against the city in August, 1793. The people made a gallant defence; never did the female sex show greater bravery. The city fell on Oct. 8th; and, furious at having been resisted, Collot d'Herbois, Couthon, and the other Another heroine of Lyons was Marie Adrian, a young girl of seventeen, whose features bore a strange resemblance to Charlotte Corday. She fought desperately by the side of her brother and her lover in one of the batteries. After the city had fallen she was made prisoner. "What is your name?" demanded the judges, struck by her youth and beauty. "Marie," she replied. "The name of the mother of that God for whom I am about to die." "Your age?" "Seventeen. The age of Charlotte Corday." "How could you combat against your country?" "I fought to defend it." "Citoyenne," said one of the judges, "we admire your courage. What would you do if we granted your life?" "I would poignard you as the murderers of my country," was her daring reply. She was, of course, condemned to the guillotine. She ascended the scaffold in silence, and refused the aid of the executioner. Twice she cried with a loud, clear voice "Vive le Roi!" After her death a note was found among her garments; it was the farewell letter of her lover, who had been shot some days previously in the Plaine des Brotteaux. This letter was written in blood! The same loyal, unselfish courage was displayed by the Royalist insurgents in La VendÉe. The rough, yet kind-hearted Chouans form a striking contrast to the ferocious, bloodthirsty Republicans, far from advantageous to the latter. There was not one Republican leader who could bear comparison with the enthusiastic self-sacrificing young Rochejacquelin, who risked everything for his King. The most prominent VendÉan leaders, next to Rochejacquelin, were La Rochefoucault de Beaulieu and the Marquis de Lescure. The former was one of the first to raise the standard of Louis XVIII. Scarcely had he called together a few hundred neighbours and their peasant tenantry when he Mademoiselle de la Rochefoucault displayed the greatest possible daring in the numerous encounters between the contending armies. She was always the first to advance and the last to retreat. But though she was so fierce while the battle raged, directly it was over she showed her kind and humane disposition by the care which she took of the wounded. She made no distinction between friends and foes; the unfortunate, whether Royalists or Republicans, were always sure of her sympathy and assistance. In the disastrous battle of Chollet, when the superior numbers of the Republicans spread such confusion through the Chouan ranks, Mademoiselle de la Rochefoucault rallied her troops three times successively, and charged the foe. Repulsed a fourth time, she ascended a slight eminence, and addressed seven hundred of her followers in a speech well calculated to rouse their sinking energies. Once more she led them against the foe. This time they returned without her! But the most famous heroine of this war was RenÉe Bordereau, commonly called Langevin, known as the "Military Heroine of La VendÉe," who afterwards wrote and published her autobiography. She was born in June, 1770, at the village of Soulaine, near Angers, of poor, but honest parents. When the insurrection of 1793 broke out, the Republican troops ravaged and massacred without mercy throughout La VendÉe. It chanced that forty-two of RenÉe's relatives fell victims, successively, to this fury. At last the barbarous murder of her father before her eyes so transported RenÉe with rage and a thirst for revenge that she devoted herself thenceforth to the royal cause. She bought a light musket with double sights, and learned privately to load, fire, and aim at a mark. She also practised the military drill; and when she considered herself sufficiently expert, she procured a suit of masculine clothes, and joined a corps commanded by M. Coeur-de-Roi—whose name, by the way, was only a nom de guerre. She enrolled under the name of Hyacinthe, that of her brother, but her comrades soon gave her the soubriquet of Langevin, a name she never lost. During a war of six years, the heroine was engaged in over two hundred battles and skirmishes. She usually fought on horseback, but sometimes, to be nearer the foe, she combated on foot. She When Napoleon had subdued La VendÉe, he was so afraid of the brave Langevin that he excepted her from the general amnesty, and set the price of forty million francs on her head. She was betrayed into the hands of her enemies; and the Emperor threw her into a loathsome dungeon, weighting her limbs with iron chains lest she should escape. She remained in the prison of Angers for three years, and in that of Mount St. Michael for two, and was fed on nothing save the coarsest bread, and rainwater which she collected for herself in a basin. Her piety and fortitude, however, never forsook her during these cruel hardships. She was at last set free on the Restoration of that King for whom she had fought so bravely and endured such privations. The sex of RenÉe had become known by an accident before her imprisonment; so it was no surprise, at least to her comrades, when her autobiography appeared, to learn that she was a woman. In 1816, she was presented to Louis XVIII.; but what recompense if any, was awarded, her memoirs do not say. She was still living in 1818. Madame Dufief, a native of Nantes, was another heroine of this war; and, in reward she received at the Restoration the Ribbon of the Order of St. Louis. The French Revolution, it must be confessed, aroused throughout the land a feeling of earnest, self-sacrificing patriotism, which no monarchical government, however popular, had ever called forth. A wild, enthusiastic desire spread through France to drive the enemies of the Republic from its sacred soil or perish in the attempt. Young and old were alike infected with the eager longing to die for the Republic. "Married men," says Lamartine, "dragged themselves from the arms of their wives to rush to the altar of their country. Men already advanced in life, old men, even, still green and robust, came to offer the remainder of their life to the safety of the Republic. They were seen tearing off their coats or jackets, before the representatives, and exposing, naked, their breasts, their shoulders, The greater number of these brave women and girls left their bones to bleach on the various battle-fields of the Republic without their sex being ever discovered. Those who became known were but few. Amongst these latter were the two sisters FÉlicitÉ and ThÉophile de Fernig, who held the nominal rank of orderly officers on the staff of General Dumouriez, wearing the uniform, and performing all the duties appertaining to their position. Their father, M. de Fernig, was Captain of Dumouriez's Guides; while their brother was lieutenant in the regiment d'Auxerrois. Thus the entire family were fighting in defence of the Republic. The De Fernigs were natives of French Flanders, whence they were driven in August, 1792, by the They entered at once on active service, and marched to the woody heights of Argonne in Champagne, which General Dumouriez was vainly endeavouring to hold against the Austrians. On his retreat to St. MÉnÉhould the De Fernigs distinguished themselves, September 20th, during the famous cannonade of Valmy by the Duke of Brunswick; when the superior skill of Kellermann forced the Allies to retreat. The Convention, informed of the gallant conduct of the Desmoiselles de Fernig, sent them horses and arms of honour in the name of the Republic. Dumouriez, in the camp of Maulde, made a striking example of these two young girls to inspire his soldiers with courage. In October, Dumouriez returned to Paris, and formed a plan with the Executive Council for the winter campaign. On his return to the army he issued a proclamation calling on the Belgians to rise against their sovereign; and on the 6th of November, Before the battle, while reviewing his troops, Dumouriez pointed out the heroines to his soldiers "as models of patriotism and auguries of victory." Throughout the day they were conspicuous for their reckless bravery, which rendered them of inestimable price in an army composed of raw soldiers. When the regiments which formed the centre of the French army gave way before the overwhelming masses of Clerfayt's cavalry, the Duc de Chartres and his brother, the Duc de Montpensier, followed by FÉlicitÉ de Fernig and half-a-dozen aides-de-camp, rode, sword in hand, through the Austrian hussars which separated him from the infantry. The latter were restored to their former courage, partly by the After the battle had raged for several hours the Austrians were driven from the field. The capture of Mons followed shortly after; and the French entered Brussels, November 14th, after a series of skirmishes between their advance-guard and the rear-guard of the Austrians. During one of these contests, FÉlicitÉ de Fernig, while bearing the orders of Dumouriez to the heads of the columns, was surrounded by a troop of Uhlans, from whom she extricated herself with difficulty. As she was turning her horse's head to rejoin the column, she saw a young officer of Belgian Volunteers, who had just been flung from his horse, by a shot, defending himself desperately against several Uhlans. Riding hastily to the spot, FÉlicitÉ with her pistols shot two of his assailants, and the rest took to flight. Dismounting from her horse, she confided the care of the wounded officer to her hussars, and with their assistance conveyed him to the military hospital of Brussels. The spring of 1793 saw the popularity of Dumouriez wane rapidly. He was suspected firstly of Girondism, and, worse again, of wishing to rescue ThÉophile de Fernig was not wounded, though her horse was slain. FÉlicitÉ dismounted, and gave her steed to the Duc de Chartres. The two young girls and nearly all their companions reached the opposite shore of the canal safely; when they dispersed in all directions. The girls, who were acquainted with In those days one star eclipsed another so fast, that the soldiers were only too ready to forget their former idols. Of course when the troops could easily forget the general who had first led them to victory, they could hardly be expected to trouble themselves about two friendless girls. When Vanderwalen, the young Belgian officer, recovered from his wounds, he could not banish from his mind the young Amazon who had saved his life. But neither his brother officers nor the soldiers could give him any information respecting the De Fernig family. Vanderwalen left the army, and wandered all over Germany and northern Europe seeking his preserver. For a long time his search was vain; but at last, when he had almost given up the search, he found the family buried in the heart of Denmark. The sisters had resumed "the dress, the graces, and the modesty" of their own sex. The love of Vanderwalen was very soon reciprocated; and they returned, as man and wife, to Belgium. ThÉophile accompanied her sister to Brussels; where, after spending a few years in the study of music and "These two sisters," says Lamartine, "inseparable in life, in death, as upon the field of battle, repose under the same cypress—in a foreign land. Where are their names upon the marble monuments of our triumphal arches? Where are their pictures at Versailles? Where are their statues upon our frontiers bedewed with their blood?" Mary Schelienck, or Shellenck, was one of the most remarkable women whose names occur in the roll-call of warriors. She was a native of Ghent, but nothing is known of her early youth. In March, 1792, she entered the Second Belgian Battalion, as a male Volunteer. At the battle of Jemappes, in the succeeding November, she distinguished herself by her bravery, and received six wounds. Afterwards she entered the 30th Demi-Brigade (Batavian), and made the campaigns of Germany. She was next removed to the 8th Light Infantry, and displayed great bravery at the battle of Austerlitz. Unfortunately for her, she there received a severe wound on the thigh, and was left for dead on the field, which led to her real sex being discovered. In spite of this, she continued to follow the regiment, and at last presented a petition with her own hand to Napoleon. The Emperor received her with ThÉrÈse Figueur, better known as "Le Dragon sans GÊne," was born, January, 1774, at Talmay, a town six leagues from Dijon. She became a dragoon in the 15th and 9th regiments, and, from 1793 to 1812, served in all the campaigns of the Republic and of the Empire. At this time she was known to her comrades by the soubriquet of "Sans GÊne." One day the ComitÉ du Salut Public issued a decree forbidding any woman to remain in the regiments. The commissioned officers and generals of the army At the siege of Toulon, 1793, ThÉrÈse received an English bullet in her left shoulder. She had the misfortune to be placed under arrest during the same siege by General Bonaparte, for being guilty of a delay of twenty-five minutes in the execution of an order. Some years subsequently, when the former Commandant d'Artillerie had become First Consul, he wished to see once more the Dragon sans GÊne, who came willingly enough to St. Cloud under the escort of M. Denon. The First Consul made some complimentary remarks to the "Dragon," and added that "Mademoiselle Figueur est un brave:" then gaily pledged her in "a glass of something stronger than wine." ThÉrÈse Figueur served in the "ArmÉe d'Italie" in 1792, and in the army of the Eastern Pyrenees during the 2nd and 3rd year, and in the Army of Italy during the years 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, and 9. Among her exploits were several campaigns in Germany, and she took part in the war in Spain. In July, 1812, she was made prisoner by the Guerillas of the CurÉ Marino, and sent off to England, where she remained until the Peace in 1814. She was frequently wounded, and had horses A modest pension hardly sufficed for her simple wants, yet being very generous, she constantly helped others poorer than herself. In disposition she was remarkable for piety, delicate tact, singleness of heart, and self-forgetfulness. About 1840, ThÉrÈse Figueur, then veuve Sutter, was admitted into the Hospice des MÉnages. In that retreat her last years glided calmly away, enlivened by the frequent visits of her many faithful friends, who delighted in hearing her military reminiscences. In June, 1861, her simple funeral passed from the gates of the Hospice. During the long wars between England and the French Republic, women continued to enlist in the British Army. One of the best known female soldiers of this period was a woman named Roberts, afterwards styled the "Manchester Heroine" from the place of her death. On the 15th November, 1814, a middle-aged woman applied for relief at the Church-Warden's offices in Manchester; and on being questioned, it appeared that she had in days gone by served her King as a soldier. Her romantic story afterwards appeared, in great detail, in the Manchester Herald. The father of this heroine, William Roberts, was At St. Vincent the heroine was attacked by the yellow fever; and this 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 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 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; 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 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 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 "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 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 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 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 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 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 "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 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 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. 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 "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 manoeuvred 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 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 "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 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 "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 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. decoration decoration
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