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WOMEN   IN   WAR 


WOMEN  IN  WAR 


BY 

FRANCIS  GRIBBLE 

AUTHOR  OF   "THK  LIFE  OF  THE  EMPEROR  FRANCIS  JOSEPH" 


LONDON 
SAMPSON    LOW,   MARSTON    AND   CO.   LTD. 

1916 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  I 

The  Amazons  in  ancient  and  modern  times — Miss  Beebe  Beam — 
Senora  Loreta  Velasquez — Women  who  have  served  in  the 
British  Army,  disguising  their  sex — Christian  Davies — Hannah 
Snell — Mary  Anne  Talbot — Dr.  James  Barry,  Inspector- 
General  of  Army  Hospitals  .  .  .  .  pp.  1-13 

CHAPTER  II 

The  Amazons  of  France — The  real  Mme  Sans-GSne — Bernadotte's 
admiration  for  her — Her  ultimate  marriage  to  a  gendarme — 
Virginie  Ghesquidre — Angelique  Brulon — Marie  Schellinck — 
Liberte  Barrau — Felicite  and  Theophile  Fernig,  the  heroines 
of  Jemmappes — Felicite' s  romantic  marriage — Theophile' s 
secret  sorrow  .......  pp.  14-25 

CHAPTER  III 

The  Vtvandi&res — Heroines  of  the  Retreat  from  Moscow — Heroines 
of  the  war  of  1870-71 — Annette  Drevon — Jeanne  Bonne- 
mere — Madame  Jarrethout,  the  Mother  of  the  Volunteers — 
Louise  de  Beaulieu pp.  26-38 

CHAPTER  IV 

The  courageous  exploit  of  Mile  Juliette  Dodu,  of  the  Telegraph 
Service,  in  the  Franco-German  War — Mile  Wipper  and  Mile 
Meyer  of  the  same  service pp  39-48 

CHAPTER  V 

Women  in  the  Russian  Campaign  of  1812 — Elizabeth  Hatzler,  the 
dragoon — Josephine  Trinquart,  the  cantinidre — Women  at  the 
crossing  of  the  Beresina — Nidia,  the  mistress  of  General  Mont- 
brun — Adventures  of  the  actresses  at  the  Moscow  theatre — 
Mme  Verteuil — Aurore  de  Bursay — The  Reminiscences  of  Mme 
Domergue  ...  ...  pp.  49-56 

CHAPTER  VI 

Louise  Fusil  of  the  Moscow  Theatre — Her  performance  before 
Napoleon  during  the  occupation — Her  return  with  the  Grande 
Armee — Her  narrow  escape  from  death — Her  adoption  of  a 
foundling — Nadeje,  the  Orphan  of  Vilna — Her  dramatic  talents 
and  untimely  death  .....  pp.  57-66 


vi  CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  VII 

Deborah  —  Boadicea — Genevidve  —  Fredegonde  —  Hermangarde  — 
Julienne  de  Breteuil — Eleanor  of  Guienne — Guirande  de  Lavaur 
— Jeanne  de  Montfort  .....  pp.  67-77 

CHAPTER  VIII 

Matilda  of  Tuscany— How  she  brought  the  Emperor  to  Canossa— 
Jeanne  d'Arc — The  state  of  France  during  her  childhood — 
Voices  and  Visions — Her  interview  with  Robert  de  Baudricourt 
— Summoned  to  the  King  at  Chinon — Inquiries  of  the  eccle- 
siastics into  her  bona  fides — The  examiners  satisfied  and  the 
Maid  launched  upon  her  mission  .  .  .  pp.  78-90 

CHAPTER  IX 

The  nature  of  the  Maid's  enterprise— The  march  to  Orleans- 
Orleans  entered — The  English  siege-works  attacked — The  siege 
raised  ........  pp.  91-100 

CHAPTER  X 

Theological  treatises  on  the  Maid's  mission — Disputes  between 
rival  historians  as  to  her  military  capacity — The  power  of  faith 
— The  march  to  Reims  and  the  coronation  of  the  King  of 
France pp.  101-109 

CHAPTER  XI 

After  the  coronation — Vicissitudes  of  fortune — Failure  of  the 
attack  on  Paris — Rival  prophetesses — Capture  of  the  Maid  at 
Compiegne — Failure  of  the  French  to  ransom  her — Her  trial 
and  execution  at  Rouen  .....  pp.  110-121 

CHAPTER  XII 

False  Maids  arise  after  Jeanne's  death — Jeanne  des  Armoises — 
The  Maid  of  Sarmaize — The  Maid  of  Le  Mans — Other  women 
fighters — Isabeau  de  Lorraine — Marguerite  de  Bressieux — 
Jeanne  Hachette — The  Lady  of  Bretigny  .  .  pp.  122-130 

CHAPTER  XIII 

End  of  the  Middle  Ages — Wars  of  the  Roses — Queen  Margaret — 
Her  exploits  in  the  field — Her  abdication  and  sorrowful  old 
age pp.  131-138 

CHAPTER  XIV 

The  wars  of  religion  at  the  time  of  the  Reformation — Women  who 
helped  in  the  defence  of  besieged  cities — Ameliane  du  Puget — 
Jeanne  Maillotte — Others  —  Louise  Labe,  the  poetess — Kenau 
Hasselaar — Her  services  during  the  siege  of  Haarlem  by  the 
Spaniards pp.  139-151 


CONTENTS  vii 

CHAPTER  XV 

The  Wars  of  the  Fronde — The  Fronde  of  the  Parlement  and  the 
Fronde  of  the  Noble  Lords — Part  played  in  the  war  by  Mile 
de  Montpensier — Her  friendship  for  the  great  Conde — Her  dash 
for  Orleans — Her  return  to  Paris  .  .  .  pp.  152-163 

CHAPTER  XVI 

Attack  on  Paris  by  Turenne — Mile  de  Montpensier  points  the  guns 
on  his  army — Disappointment  of  her  matrimonial  ambitions — 
Peace  concluded  without  her  consent — Fear,  flight,  and  nervous 
breakdown  .  .....  pp.  164-172 

CHAPTER  XVII 

Madame  de  Longueville,  sister  of  the  great  Conde — Her  attempt  to 
raise  Normandy — Her  escape  from  Dieppe — Her  defence  of 
Bordeaux — Her  repentance  in  her  old  age,  and  her  devout 
religious  observances  .....  pp.  173-185 

CHAPTER  XVIII 

The  insurrection  in  La  Vendee — Various  women  warriors — Mme 
de  Larochejaquelein — Success  and  failure — The  crossing  of  the 
Loire  ........  pp.  1 86-200 

CHAPTER  XIX 

The  check  at  Granville — The  check  at  Angers — Dispersal  of  the 
royalist  army — Madame  de  Larochejaquelein  in  hiding — Ther- 
midor  and  the  subsequent  amnesty  .  .  .  pp.  201-210 

CHAPTER  XX 

The  Duchesse  de  Berry — -Her  attempt  to  raise  La  Vendee  for  the 
Comte  de  Chambord — Failure  of  her  friends  to  dissuade  her — 
The  rising — Defeat — Mme  de  Berry  seeks  a  hiding-place  at 
Nantes pp.  211-218 

CHAPTER   XXI 

Mme  de  Berry  in  hiding— Her  betrayal  by  the  Jew  Deutz— Her 
discovery  in  a  secret  chamber  by  the  gendarmes — Her  arrest 
and  removal  to  prison — How  Deutz  received  the  reward  of  his 
treachery pp.  2197-228 

CHAPTER  XXII 

The  Empress  Eugenie — Did  she  "  make  "  the  Franco-German  War? 
—The  news  of  Sedan  in  Paris— Outbreak  of  the  Revolution- 
Flight  of  the  Empress  from  the  Tuileries — Her  appeal  to  Dr. 
Evans — The  drive  to  Deauville — The  crossing  of  the  Channel 
ia  Sir  John  Burgoyne's  yacht  .  pp.  229-244 


viii  CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  XXIII 

Catherine  the  Great  of  Russia— Her  civil  war  against  her  husband— 
His  discomfiture,  arrest,  abdication,  and  death  in  prison- 
Was  he  murdered  there  ? — Was  Catherine  responsible  ? 

pp.  245-254 

CHAPTER   XXIV 

Spanish  wars — The  Maid  of  Saragossa — The  shooting  of  Cabrera's 
mother  and  other  hostages  in  the  Carlist  War — The  nuns  of 
Seville — The  termagants  of  Barcelona  .  .  pp  255-265 


CHAPTER   XXV 

Queen  Cristina  of  Spain  and  General  Espartero — General  Leon's 
attempt  to  kidnap  Queen  Isabella — Fighting  on  the  palace 
staircase — Gallant  defence  by  the  Halberdiers — Capture  and 
execution  of  General  Leon — Further  fighting  in  1854  and 
1866— The  Revolution  of  1868  .  .  .  .pp.  266-278 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

Women  in  war  in  India — Cawnpore — Details  of  the  siege  and  the 
massacre.  .......  pp.  279-287 


CHAPTER  XXVII 

The  First  Afghan  War— The  retreat  through  the  Khyber  Pass— The 
massacre — Extracts  from  Lady  Sale's  Diary         .  pp.  288-301 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 

Woman  as  pacificist — Baroness  von  Suttner  as  controversialist  and 
novelist — The  value  of  Die  Waff  en  nieder  !  .          .  pp.  302-312 


CHAPTER   XXIX 

Florence  Nightingale— How  she  prepared  herself  for  her  life's  work, 
and  how  she  performed  it — Her  courage — Her  thoroughness — 
Her  modesty — Her  supreme  title  to  immortal  fame  pp.  313-322 


EPILOGUE 


pp.  323-342 


WOMEN    IN   WAR 


CHAPTER   I 

The  Amazons  in  ancient  and  modern  times — Miss  Beebe  Beam — 
Sefiora  Loreta  Velasquez — Women  who  have  served  in  the 
British  Army,  disguising  their  sex — Christian  Davies — Hannah 
Snell — Mary  Anne  Talbot — Dr.  James  Barry,  Inspector- 
General  of  Army  Hospitals. 

THE  chronicler  of  woman's  achievements  in  war 
will  perhaps  be  expected  to  begin  with  the 
Amazons ;  but  he  will  hardly  be  expected  to 
go  into  details,  or  to  waste  space  in  disengaging 
history  from  myth.  The  balance  of  authori- 
tative opinion  inclines  to  the  view  that  the 
Amazons  did  actually  exist,  but  that  there  is 
no  foundation  for  the  statement  that  they  cut 
off  their  right  breasts  in  order  that  they  might 
be  better  able  to  draw  the  bow.  One  hears  of 
the  existence  of  companies,  regiments,  and  even 
armies  of  fighting  women,  in  both  the  hemi- 
spheres and  all  the  continents.  The  river 
Amazon  itself  derives  its  name  from  a  tribe  of 
women  warriors  whom  the  traveller  Orellana 
believed  to  dwell  upon  its  banks.  There  are 
well-accredited  stories  of  the  Amazons  of 
Dahomey  ;  and  it  is  well  known  that  Ranjeet 
Singh  of  Lahore  had  a  bodyguard  of  a  hundred 


2  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

and  fifty  Amazons  recruited  from  the  loveliest 
girls  procurable  in  Cashmere,  Persia,  and  the 
Punjab.  In  Bantam,  again,  when  it  held  a  semi- 
independent  position  under  the  Dutch,  the  king 
had  a  royal  troop  of  women  soldiers  who  rode 
astride  and  carried  muskets  and  lances,  while 
Tien- Wang,  the  Celestial  King  of  the  Tae-Pings, 
had  a  bodyguard  of  a  thousand  woman  soldiers. 

And  so  forth.  One  could  add  many  such 
instances  if  one  cared  to  dig  erudition  from  the 
Encyclopaedias,  and  did  not  mind  being  weari- 
some ;  but  it  will  be  better  to  refer  the  curious 
to  Mr.  Guy  Cadogan  Rothery's  most  learned 
monograph,  The  Amazons  in  Antiquity  and 
Modern  Times.  The  one  point  which  it  is 
worth  while  to  pause  and  make  is  this  :  that 
whereas  organised  groups  of  professional  fight- 
ing women  have  been  gradually  eliminated  by 
the  progress  of  civilisation,  the  hour  of  need 
has  often  brought  individual  women  into  action. 
Sieges,  in  particular,  have  often  called  them  to 
deeds  which  have  covered  them  with  glory. 

In  the  annals  of  almost  every  country  we 
find  the  story  of  some  besieged  city  which  the 
women  have  helped  to  defend.  Plutarch,  for 
instance,  tells  us  of  such  a  case  in  Greece.  The 
women  of  Argos,  he  says,  defended  themselves 
so  valiantly  against  the  Spartans  that  they 
were  allowed  to  dedicate  a  statue  to  the  God 
of  War,  and  permitted,  as  a  symbolical  distinc- 
tion, to  wear  false  beards  on  their  wedding  days. 
The  city  of  Avila  in  Spain  has  a  similar  legend 


THE  ESCALADE  3 

of  the  repulse  of  the  Saracens  by  the  women. 
We  all  know  how  nobly  the  Maid  of  Saragossa 
acquitted  herself  during  the  historic  siege  of 
that  city ;  and  we  all  ought  to  know  how 
Kenau  Hasselaar  and  the  three  hundred 
women  placed  under  her  command  helped  to 
keep  the  Spaniards  out  of  Haarlem.  These 
stories  shall  more  fully  be  related  in  the 
chapters  to  which  they  belong  ;  but  we  may 
pause  here  to  recall  the  prowess  of  the  brave 
woman  who  helped  to  save  Geneva  from  the 
Duke  of  Savoy  on  the  night  of  the  famous 
escalade. 

The  Duke  had  tried  to  rush  the  city  treacher- 
ously, in  the  dark,  in  time  of  peace.  Some 
of  his  Spanish  mercenaries  got  over  the  walls, 
and  ran  through  the  streets  shouting,  "  Ville 
gagnee !  Tue  !  Tue."  The  citizens  jumped 
out  of  bed,  snatched  up  their  weapons,  and  ran 
out  to  confront  the  intruders  in  their  night- 
shirts. Their  pastor,  Simon  Goulart,  to  whom 
we  owe  a  jubilant  description  of  ,the  episode, 
writes  that  he  himself  would  willingly  have 
taken  part  in  the  fighting,  in  spite  of  his  sacred 
office,  if  only  he  had  been  able  to  lay  his  hand 
on  a  suit  of  mail.  Mme  Royaume,  when  she 
heard  the  tumult,  was  in  one  of  the  upper 
chambers  of  a  high  house  in  a  narrow  street, 
making  soup  for  the  breakfast  of  her  large 
family.  She  heard  the  call  to  arms,  and  she 
responded  without  waiting  to  look  for  a  suit  of 
mail.  Opening  the  window  wide,  she  sacri- 


4  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

ficed  her  breakfast,  and  tossed  out  the  sauce- 
pan,— boiling  soup  and  all — on  to  the  heads 
of  the  men-at-arms.  The  unexpected  missile 
threw  them  into  such  dire  confusion  that  the 
Genevans  had  easy  work  with  them ;  and  the 
saucepan  is  still  preserved,  together  with  the 
captured  scaling  ladders,  in  the  Hotel  de  Ville, 
as  a  perpetual  memorial  of  the  proudest  day  in 
Genevan  history. 

In  that  case,  of  course, — and  in  most  of  the 
cases  with  which  we  shall  deal, — our  women 
warriors  have  fought  without  making  any 
mystery  of  their  sex.  In  other  case^ — a  con- 
siderable number  of  cases,  too — we  find  women 
concealing  their  sex  in  order  to  be  allowed  to 
fight.  The  penetration  of  the  disguise  of  such 
a  Serbian  heroine  was  one  of  the  romantic 
incidents  of  the  recent  Balkan  War ;  and  the 
military  history  of  almost  every  nation  contains 
several  anecdotes  of  the  kind.  In  the  United 
States,  for  instance,  there  is  still  living,  or  was 
still  living  until  quite  recently,  a  Miss  Beebe 
Beam,  who  fought  for  her  country  against 
Spain.  In  order  to  reach  the  seat  of  war  in  the 
Philippines,  she  disguised  herself  as  a  cabin- 
boy  ;  arriving  at  Manila,  she  disguised  herself 
as  a  soldier,  and  followed  the  campaign  for  a 
twelvemonth  ;  and  then,  according  to  the  cus- 
tom of  her  country,  she  was  interviewed  : 

"  I  saw  war/'  she  said  to  the  astonished 
pressman,  "  and  I  lived  it,  just  as  a  soldier 
sees  it  and  lives  it ;  and,  for  what  I  saw  and 


MISS  BEEBE  BEAM  5 

learned,  I  do  not  feel  I  paid  too  much — even 
in  the  illness  that  came  to  me  and  the  horrors 
of  that  voyage  on  the  City  of  Para." 

Curiosity,  it  would  seem — a  feminine  char- 
acteristic, as  we  are  sometimes  told — was  the 
lure  in  the  case  of  Miss  Beebe  Beam  ;   certainly 
there  was  no  cause  at  issue  which  could  inspire 
deep  emotions.     Another  woman  who  fought, 
also  in  an  American  army,  for  the  sheer  joy  of 
righting,  was  Sefiora  Loreta  Velasquez,  a  lady 
of  Cuban  birth  who  had,  in  1856,  contracted 
a  secret   marriage  with   an  American  officer. 
She  was,  she  has  related,  "  perfectly  wild  about 
war  "  ;   and  when  the  Civil  War  broke  out  she 
not  only  persuaded  her  husband  to  desert  the 
Union  Army  and  join  the  Confederates,    but 
begged  him  to  let  her  enlist  as  a  private  under 
his  command.     When  he  refused  she  put  on 
a  suit    of   his  clothes  and  ran  away  to  New 
Orleans.     There  she  found  a  tailor  who  could 
keep  a  secret,  had  the  clothes  altered  to  suit 
her  figure,  procured  a  false  moustache,  and,  thus 
equipped  and  embellished,   raised  a  regiment 
of  recruits  and  took  them  to  her  husband  at 
Pensacola. 

This  time  he  not  only  submitted  to  his  wife's 
whim,  but  taught  her  how  to  drill  her  men. 
His  own  life  was  not  a  long  one — he  was 
accidentally  killed  by  the  bursting  of  his  car- 
bine ;  but  his  death  did  not  prevent  Loreta 
from  continuing  under  arms.  Assuming  the 


6  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

name  of  Lieutenant  Harry  Buford,  she  fought 
at  Bull  Run,  where  the  Federal  enemy  did  most 
of  the  running  ;  and  we  have  her  word  for  it 
that  "  no  man  on  the  field  fought  with  more 
energy  and  determination  "  than  she  did.  She 
also,  more  than  once,  crossed  the  Federal  lines 
as  a  spy,  and  brought  back  valuable  informa- 
tion ;  and  when  the  war  was  over,  and  her 
military  services  were  no  longer  in  request, 
she  went  west  and  renewed  the  life  of  adven- 
ture as  a  Calif ornian  miner. 

The  British  Army,  it  must  be  admitted,  has 
never  included  a  woman  soldier  of  quite  that 
dash  and  distinction  ;  but  there  are  records  of 
women  who  have  seen  service  alike  in  the  Army, 
the  Navy,  and  the  Marines.  The  adventures 
of  several  of  them  are  set  forth  in  James  Caul- 
field's  Portraits,  Memoirs,  and  Characters  of 
Remarkable  Persons,  and  have  often  been  repro- 
duced, in  magazines  and  popular  weekly  papers. 
There  is  more  of  curiosity  than  of  romance  in 
the  interest  which  they  excite ;  and  it  will  be 
sufficient  to  deal  with  them  briefly,  beginning 
with  Mrs.  Christian  Davies,  commonly  called 
Mother  Ross. 

Mrs.  Davies,  nee  Cavanagh,  was  the  daughter 
of  a  maltster  of  Dublin,  who  raised  a  troop  of 
horse  for  James  II,  and  was  so  disappointed  at 
the  result  of  the  battle  of  the  Boyne  that  he 
fell  sick  of  a  fever  "  which  carried  him  off  in 
a  short  time."  His  spirited  daughter  kept  a 
public-house,  and  married  the  waiter,  whose 


CHRISTIAN   DA  VIES  7 

name  was  Thomas  Welsh.  This  Welsh,  having 
gone  out  to  pay  a  debt  of  fifty  pounds  to  his 
brewer,  got  drunk  and  was  kidnapped  and 
carried  off  to  Holland  with  a  ship-load  of 
recruits.  He  wrote  home  to  say  that,  having 
reached  the  Netherlands  without  a  penny  in 
his  pocket,  he  "  was  under  the  necessity,  for 
support,  to  enlist  as  a  private  soldier."  His 
wife,  hearing  the  news,  decided  to  sell  her 
public-house,  follow  his  example,  and  cross  the 
seas  to  look  for  him. 

She  found  him  ;  but  the  circumstances  of  the 
meeting  were  not  what  her  fancy  had  pictured  : 
"  To  her  inexpressible  surprise  and  mortifica- 
tion, she  recognised  her  husband  caressing  a 
Dutch  woman  who  appeared  to  be  congratu- 
lating him  on  his  safe  return  from  the  late 
battles."  Still,  though  she  was  disappointed, 
she  behaved  magnanimously,  and  "  gave  him  a 
piece  of  gold,  informing  him,  at  the  same  time, 
he  should  always  find  in  her  an  affectionate 
brother,  but  that  he  must  not  think  of  her  as  a 
wife,  while  she  could  remain  concealed  and  the 
war  lasted."  So  they  parted  "  in  a  friendly 
way,"  but  came  together  again  in  consequence 
of  the  discovery  of  Mrs.  Welsh's  sex  by  the 
surgeon  who  attended  her  for  a  wound  which 
she  received  in  the  battle  of  Ramilies. 

They  were  reconciled,  and  Mrs.  Welsh  resumed 
the  female  garb  and  became  the  regimental 
cook.  Her  husband  having  been  killed  in 
action  shortly  afterwards,  she  "  found  conso- 


8  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

lation  in  the  arms  of  one  Hugh  Jones,  a  grena- 
dier,'* who  became  her  second  husband.  He, 
too,  fell  in  battle ;  and  his  widow  then  went 
back  to  Dublin,  where  she  once  more  started 
a  public  house,  "  and  by  this,  and  by  making 
pies,  contrived  to  pick  up  a  comfortable  liveli- 
hood." There,  a  third  soldier  named  Davies 
wooed  and  won  her.  As  Serjeant  Davies,  he 
ultimately  was  admitted  into  Chelsea  Hospital, 
where  Mrs.  Davies  nursed  him  until  she  caught 
a  cold  and  died  of  it,  on  July  7,  1739,  being 
interred,  with  military  honours,  in  the  Hospital 
burial-ground. 

Hannah  Snell,  whose  name  comes  next  on 
our  list,  adopted  a  martial  career  for  the  same 
reason  as  Christian  Davies.  Her  husband  had 
disappeared,  and  enlistment  seemed  the  most 
hopeful  way  of  looking  for  him.  She  did  not 
succeed  in  finding  him,  but  learnt  that  he  had 
committed  a  murder  and  been  executed.  In 
the  meantime,  however,  she  had  had  various 
and  painful  experiences,  receiving  five  hundred 
lashes  for  an  offence  which  she  had  not  com- 
mitted, and  a  wound  in  the  groin,  from  which 
she  had  to  extract  the  bullet  herself,  in  order 
that  her  secret  might  not  be  discovered.  She 
was  at  Carlisle  at  the  time  of  the  Young  Pre- 
tender's invasion,  and  was  afterwards  sent  to 
India,  where  she  distinguished  herself  in  action 
in  the  Madras  Presidency.  It  is  related  that 
she  endeared  herself  to  her  messmates  by 
washing  and  mending  their  linen ;  and  the 


MARY  ANNE  TALBOT  9 

end  of  her  career  was  not  unsatisfactory.  She 
went  on  the  stage  and  "  sung  several  songs  at 
the  theatre  in  Goodman's  Fields  " — an  indica- 
tion that,  even  in  those  days,  intelligent  impre- 
sarios perceived  that  it  might  be  profitable  to 
exploit  notoriety  as  well  as  talent. 

Thirdly,  there  was  Mary  Anne  Talbot,  said  to 
have  been  the  youngest  of  the  sixteen  illegiti- 
mate children  of  Lord  William  Talbot,  Steward 
of  His  Majesty's  Household,  and  Colonel  of  the 
Glamorganshire  Militia.  Born  in  London,  in 
1778,  she  was  disgracefully  treated  by  her 
lover,  Captain  Essex  Bowen,  of  the  82nd 
regiment  of  infantry.  He  took  her  to  San 
Domingo,  whither  he  had  been  ordered,  in  the 
disguise  of  a  foot-boy,  and,  arriving  at  Port-au- 
Prince,  caused  her  to  be  enrolled  in  the  regi- 
ment as  a  drummer-boy,  threatening  to  sell  her 
into  slavery  if  she  did  not  acquiesce.  As  a 
drummer-boy,  she  took  part  in  the  siege  of 
Valenciennes.  Deserting  from  the  Army,  she 
joined  the  Navy  as  a  powder-monkey,  was 
with  Lord  Howe  on  the  famous  First  of  June, 
and  was  subsequently,  for  eighteen  months,  a 
prisoner  of  war  in  France.  To  her,  as  to  Hannah 
Snell,  it  appeared  that  the  theatre  might  afford 
fitting  scope  for  her  talents.  Like  Hannah 
Snell,  she  was  given  her  chance — the  sort  of 
chance  of  which  any  novice  would  be  glad. 
Covent  Garden  was  one  of  her  theatres  ;  Juliet 
was  one  of  her  parts  ;  but  the  ghost  would 
seem  to  have  walked  with  fitful  irregularity  : 


io  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

"  Finding  this  pursuit/*  she  writes,  "  more 
pleasant  than  profitable,  I  was  compelled  to 
give  it  up,  and  solicit  assistance  towards  my 
support  from  several  respectable  persons  to 
whom  I  had  made  my  adventures  and  sufferings 
known/9 

We  will  leave  her  soliciting,  and  turn  to  the 
case  of  Dr.  James  Barry,  the  woman  who 
became  an  army-surgeon,  and  rose  to  be 
Inspector-General  of  Hospitals.  She  was  buried 
at  Kensal  Green  ;  and  the  inscription  on  her 
tomb-stone,  which  may  still  be  read,  runs  as 
follows  : 

DR.    JAMES    BARRY, 

INSPECTOR-GENERAL  OF  ARMY  HOSPITALS. 

DIED  JULY  15,  1865. 

AGED  71  YEARS. 

That,  as  the  dates  show,  is  quite  a  modern 
story — modern  enough  for  the  record  of  services 
and  promotions  to  be  extracted  from  Hart's 
Annual  Army  List.  The  salient  facts  have, 
indeed,  been  copied  from  Hart's  Annual  Army 
List  into  the  Dictionary  of  National  Biography  ; 
and  there  is  an  anecdotal  photograph  of  the 
doctor  in  Lord  Albemarle's  Fifty  Years  of 
My  Life.  Lord  Albemarle  met  her,  in  his 
youth,  at  Cape  Town  ;  and  this  is  what  he 
writes : 


DR.   JAMES  BARRY  n 

"  There  was  at  this  time  at  the  Cape  a  person 
whose  eccentricities  attracted  universal  atten- 
tion— Dr.  James  Barry,  staff-surgeon  to  the 
garrison,  and  the  Governor's  medical  adviser. 
Lord  Charles  (Somerset)  described  him  to  me  as 
the  most  skilful  of  physicians,  and  the  most 
wayward  of  men.  He  had  lately  been  in  pro- 
fessional attendance  upon  the  Governor,  who 
was  somewhat  fanciful  about  his  health ;  but 
the  Esculapius,  taking  umbrage  at  something 
said  or  done,  had  left  his  patient  to  prescribe 
for  himself.  I  had  heard  so  much  of  this 
capricious  yet  privileged  gentleman  that  I  had 
a  great  curiosity  to  see  him.  I  shortly  after- 
wards sat  next  to  him  at  one  of  the  regimental 
messes.  In  this  learned  pundit  I  beheld  a 
beardless  lad,  apparently  of  my  own  age, 
with  an  unmistakably  Scotch  type  of  coun- 
tenance —  reddish  hair,  high  cheek-bones. 
There  was  a  certain  effeminacy  in  his  man- 
ner, which  he  seemed  to  be  always  trying  to 
overcome.  His  style  of  conversation  was 
greatly  superior  to  that  one  usually  heard  at 
a  mess-table  in  those  days  of  non-competitive 
examination. 

"  A  mystery  attached  to  Barry's  whole  pro- 
fessional career,  which  extended  over  more  than 
half  a  century.  While  at  the  Cape  he  fought 
a  duel,  and  was  considered  to  be  of  a  most 
quarrelsome  disposition.  He  was  frequently 
guilty  of  flagrant  breaches  of  discipline,  and, 
on  more  than  one  occasion,  was  sent  home  under 


12  WOMEN    IN   WAR 

arrest ;  but,  somehow  or  other,  his  offences  were 
always  condoned  at  headquarters. 

"  In  Hart's  Annual  Army  List  for  the  year 
1865  the  name  of  James  Barry,  M.D.,  stands 
at  the  head  of  the  list  of  Inspector-Generals  of 
Hospitals.  In  the  July  of  that  same  year  The 
Times  one  day  announced  the  death  of  Dr. 
Barry,  and  next  day  it  was  officially  reported 
to  the  Horse  Guards  that  the  doctor  was  a 
woman.  It  is  singular  that  neither  the  land- 
lady of  her  lodging  nor  the  black  servant  who 
had  lived  with  her  for  years,  had  the  slightest 
suspicion  of  her  sex.  The  late  Mrs.  Ward, 
daughter  of  Colonel  Tidy,  from  whom  I  had 
these  particulars,  told  me  further  that  she 
believed  the  doctor  to  have  been  the  legitimate 
granddaughter  of  a  Scotch  Earl,  whose  name  I 
do  not  now  give,  as  I  am  unable  to  substantiate 
the  circumstances  of  my  friend's  surmise,  and 
that  the  soi-disant  James  Barry  adopted  the 
medical  profession  from  an  attachment  to  an 
army-surgeon  who  has  not  been  many  years 
dead." 

There  is  much  here  which  cannot  be  tested ; 
but  there  are  one  or  two  facts  which  it  is  possible 
to  add.  Dr.  Barry's  antagonist  in  the  duel  was 
a  young  aide-de-camp  named  Cloete,  afterwards 
Sir  Josiah  Cloete.  On  one  of  her  voyages  home 
she  was  required,  to  her  great  inconvenience,  to 
share  a  state-room  with  a  certain  Lieutenant 
Rogers  ;  but  she  knew  how  to  deal  with  the 


DR.  JAMES  BARRY  13 

difficulty.  Every  night  he  had  to  go  to  bed, 
before  she  did,  in  the  berth  above  her,  and 
remain  there ;  every  morning  he  had  to  leave 
the  state-room,  whatever  agonies  of  sea-sickness 
he  might  be  suffering,  while  she  dressed.  A 
savage  dog  that  she  had  with  her  saw  to  it  that 
the  injunctions  were  obeyed. 


CHAPTER    II 

The  Amazons  of  France — The  real  Mme  Sans-Ge"ne — Bernadotte's 
admiration  of  her — Her  ultimate  marriage  to  a  gendarme — 
Virginie  Ghesquidre — Angelique  Brulon — Marie  Schellinck — 
Liberte  Barrau — Felicite  and  Theophile  Fernig,  the  heroines  of 
Jemmappes — Felicite's  romantic  marriage — Theophile's  secret 
sorrow. 

THE  French  Army,  like  the  English,  boasts  of 
its  heroines  as  well  as  its  heroes  ;  and  the  atti- 
tude of  French  writers  towards  women  warriors 
has  always  been  very  different  from  that  of 
Mr.  James  Caulfield.  He  viewed  them  as  eccen- 
trics ;  the  French  have  rejoiced  over  them  as 
paragons.  Their  exploits  belong,  in  France,  to 
the  romance  of  war  rather  than  to  its  odd  and 
abnormal  detail ;  there  is  an  element  of  gallan- 
try as  well  as  of  curiosity  in  the  admiration 
accorded  to  them  all,  from  Jeanne  d'Arc  down 
to  the  humblest  of  the  vivandieres. 

Jeanne  d'Arc,  however,  must  wait ;  and  the 
vivandieres  must  also  wait.  We  are  speaking 
now  only  of  the  women  who  have  put  on  uniform 
and  marched  or  ridden  in  the  ranks  ;  and  our 
first  heroine  shall  be  Mme  (or  more  properly 
Mile)  Sans-Gene.  The  name  is  familiar  on 
account  of  Sardou's  play  and  Mme  Re  jane's 
interpretation  of  it ;  but  that  drama,  though 


MME  SANS-GENE  15 

dramatic,  is  not  true  to  fact.  Sardou's  Mme 
Sans-Gene  is  the  wife  of  Marshal  Lefebvre, 
whom  Napoleon  made  Duke  of  Dantzig — a 
promoted  washerwoman,  with  a  rasping  tongue 
but  a  good  heart,  who  came  to  Court,  bringing 
with  her  the  unpolished  speech  of  the  laundry, 
and  a  disconcerting  odour,  as  it  were,  of  soap- 
suds ;  but  her  performances  do  not  fall  within 
the  scope  of  the  present  inquiry.  The  name 
Sans-Gene,  however,  which  Sardou  took  for  his 
play,  was  a  real  name — or,  at  all  events,  a 
real  nom  de  guene  ;  and  our  business  here  is 
with  the  brave  woman  who  bore  it. 

She  was  Therese  Figueur  of  Lyon,  where 
she  was  born  in  1774.  Her  father  was  a  Giron- 
din — one  of  those  who  defended  Lyon  against 
the  Convention  in  1793,  when  it  was  decreed 
that  the  city  should  be  razed  to  the  ground,  and 
a  pillar  erected  on  the  ruins,  with  the  inscrip- 
tion :  Lyon  rebelled,  against  the  Republic  ;  Lyon 
is  no  more.  There  was  much  guillotining,  and 
even  more  fusillading,  for  Fouche  had  said  that 
the  Republic  must  "  march  to  Liberty  over 
corpses/ '  Carlyle  has  drawn  us  a  vivid  picture 
of  two  hundred  and  nine  men  "  marched  forth 
over  the  river  to  be  shot  in  mass,  by  musket 
and  cannon,  in  the  promenade  of  the  Brotteaux." 
The  Girondin  Figueur  was  to  have  been  one  of 
them — or  perhaps  one  of  the  earlier  batch  of 
seventy  victims  whose  bodies  were  flung  into  the 
Rhone  ;  but  he  escaped,  taking  his  daughter 
with  him — both  of  them  disguised  in  Repub- 


16  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

lican  uniforms — and  Th6rese  made  the  assur- 
ance of  her  safety  doubly  sure  by  joining  a 
regiment  of  dragoons. 

There  never  was  much  mystery  about  her 
sex  ;  they  called  her  Mile  Sans-Gene,  in  fact, 
because  she  seemed  so  little  embarrassed  by  it  ; 
but  she  gave  her  proofs  and  therefore  was  per- 
mitted to  remain  in  the  Army  when  other 
women,  similarly  situated,  were  turned  out  of 
it.  She  was  under  Dugommier  at  the  siege  of 
Toulon ;  and  it  was  there  that  she  was  first 
brought  into  relation  with  that  "  olive-com- 
plexioned  officer  of  artillery  "  who  was  presently 
to  be  Emperor  of  France.  He  sent  her  to  the 
guard-room.  It  was  her  boast,  in  later  years, 
that  she  called  him  an  "  ugly  little  beast  "  for 
doing  so ;  and,  from  the  fact  that  she  did  so 
with  impunity,  it  seems  reasonable  to  infer  that 
he  was  one  of  those  who  knew  her  to  be  a  woman. 

At  any  rate,  he  knew  it  later,  and  then  took 
sufficient  interest  in  her  to  remove  her  from 
the  Army  and  attach  her  to  the  service  of  the 
Empress  Josephine.  For  whatever  reason,  she 
and  Josephine  did  not  get  on  very  well  together  ; 
and  she  was  transferred  to  the  service  of  the 
wife  of  Marshal  Augereau,  to  whom  she  acted 
as  private  secretary.  In  that  establishment, 
too,  however,  she  failed  to  give  satisfaction, 
being  addicted  to  rough  practical  jokes  more 
suitable  to  a  barrack-room  than  to  the  house 
of  a  Marshal  of  France,  and  making  mischief 
by  her  hints  that  the  Marshal  was  unfaithful 


MME   SUTTER  17 

to  his  wife.  It  was  thought  better  that  she 
should  leave ;  so  she  returned  to  the  Army 
and  took  part  in  the  battles  of  Ulm  and  Auster- 
litz,  and  it  was  during  this  period  of  her  service 
that  she  attracted  the  attention  of  Bernadotte. 
She  tells  us  that  Bernadotte  was  in  love  with 
her,  but  that  she  was  not  in  love  with  him  ; 
but  that  story  of  rejected  addresses  need  not 
detain  us. 

"  My  motto/'  she  writes,  "  has  always  been 
that  a  heart  is  the  proper  price  to  be  paid 
for  a  heart  "  ;  and,  in  the  end,  she  gave  her 
heart,  together  with  her  hand,  to  a  gendarme 
named  Sutter,  having  by  that  time  attained 
the  mature  age  of  forty-four. 

It  was  a  rule  of  the  service  that  a  gendarme 
must  not  marry  a  woman  without  a  dowry  ; 
but  that  regulation  was  specially  abrogated  in 
her  favour.  The  marriage  of  a  gendarme  to 
an  ex-dragoon  was  felt  to  be  so  unique  an  event 
that  the  regulations  of  the  service  must  not  be 
allowed  to  stand  in  the  way  of  it.  It  seems 
to  have  been  a  happy  marriage,  though  poverty 
ultimately  compelled  Mme  Sutter  to  seek  admis- 
sion to  the  Hospice  des  Menages.  She  was 
admitted  to  it  in  1839  >  an(^  s^e  died  tnere> 
some  twenty  years  later,  at  the  great  age  -of 
eighty-five.  The  one  sorrow  of  her  life  is  said 
to  have  been  her  failure  to  win  the  red  ribbon 
of  the  Legion  of  Honour. 

She  probably  grieved  the  more  because  that 
military  distinction  was  actually  awarded  to 
2 


r8  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

three  other  women  soldiers  of  her  period ; 
Virginie  Ghesquiere,  Angelique  Brulon,  and 
Marie  Schellinck,  whose  careers  and  records  we 
may  briefly  run  over.  Virginie  Ghesquiere  is 
perhaps  the  most  interesting  of  them. 

Mile  Ghesquiere  was  of  Delemont  near  Lille, 
and  she  entered  the  army  as  a  "  substitute." 
Her  brother,  who  should  have  been  recruited, 
had  no  taste  for  fighting,  so  she  took  his  place, 
disguising  herself  in  a  suit  of  his  clothes,  was 
promoted  to  the  rank  of  sergeant  for  saving  an 
officer's  life  at  Wagram,  and  was  subsequently 
mentioned  in  the  Order  of  the  Day  for  distin- 
guished services  under  Junot  in  Portugal.  There 
is  a  song  about  her,  once  popular  though  now 
forgotten,  set  to  the  tune  of  Partant  pour  la 
Syrie.  One  may  cite  a  few  stanzas,  without 
committing  oneself  to  any  opinion  as  to  its  merits 
as  poetry  : 


Une  jeune  guerriere, 
Pour  avoir  du  renom, 
Veut  partir  pour  son  frere 
Dans  1'habit  de  ga^on. 


D'une  ardeur  martiale, 
Elle  vole  au  combat, 
Et  partout  se  signale 
Comme  un  brave  soldat. 


La  guerriere  intrepide 
Que  1'amour  fraternel 
Sert  en  tout  lieu  de  guide 
Sauva  son  colonel. 


MARIE  SCHELLINCK  19 


Par  une  maladie 
Son  sexe  est  reconnu. 
Soldats,  de  Virginie 
Imitez  la  vertu  ! 


Ang clique  Brulon  was  not  less  famous.  Born 
in  1771,  the  daughter  and  afterwards  the  widow 
of  a  soldier,  she  served  from  1792  to  1799,  was 
remarked  for  her  gallantry  in  the  defence  of 
Corsica,  was  there  wounded,  and  was  after- 
wards admitted  to  the  Invalides  ;  but  she  was 
not  forgotten  there.  In  1822  she  was  promoted, 
being  then  fifty-one  years  of  age,  to  the  rank 
of  lieutenant  on  the  retired  list,  on  the  proposal 
of  General  de  Latour-Maubourg  ;  and,  as  she 
did  not  die  until  1859,  there  must  be  sight-seers 
still  living  to  whom  she  has  been  pointed  out, 
swaggering  innocently  about,  as  an  octogenarian, 
in  her  lieutenant's  uniform. 

And  then  comes  Marie  Schellinck,  who  was 
Belgian  by  birth,  but  French  in  virtue  of  her 
military  services.  Born  at  Ghent,  in  1757,  she 
fought  in  no  fewer  than  twelve  campaigns,  was 
wounded  at  Jemmappes,  Austerlitz,  and  Jena, 
and  mentioned  in  the  Order  of  the  Day  for 
gallantry  at  Arcola.  She  retired  on  her  pen- 
sion in  1808,  and  took  up  her  residence  in  her 
native  town.  In  1811,  when  Napoleon  came. to 
Ghent,  she  had  the  honour  of  being  presented 
to  the  Empress  Marie-Louise  ;  but  the  presents 
which  Marie-Louise  took  the  opportunity  of 
giving  her  were  suited  to  her  sex  and  not 
inspired  by  any  recollection  of  her  feats  of  arms. 


20  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

They  consisted  of  a  silk  dress,  a  brooch,  and  a 
pair  of  earrings. 

These,  it  will  have  been  observed,  are  very 
different  stories  from  those  related  of  Hannah 
Snell,  Mary  Anne  Talbot,  and  Christian  Davies 
— more  dramatic  and  more  spectacular.  The 
heroines  of  them  have  been  the  objects  of 
enthusiasm,  not  of  mere  gaping  curiosity,  and 
have  consequently  been  able  to  hold  their  heads 
as  high  in  private  life  as  on  the  stricken  field. 
One  finds  the  note  struck  yet  again  in  the 
story  of  Liberte  Barrau,  who  fought  by  her 
husband's  side  in  the  war  with  Spain  in  1794. 
She  burst  with  him  into  Spanish  entrench- 
ments— the  third  soldier  to  enter  them — and, 
after  the  fighting  was  over,  she  addressed  him  in 
the  inflated  language  of  the  period.  "  Ah  !  it 
is  sweet,  after  the  victory  is  gained, "  she  ex- 
claimed, "  to  press  you  to  my  bosom  and  dress 
your  wounds. "  Whereupon  the  Recueil  des 
Actions  hero'iques,  published  by  order  of  the 
Convention,  comments  : 

"  In  thus  lavishing  upon  him  the  attentions 
of  conjugal  affection,  she  demonstrates  that  she 
has  in  no  way  renounced  the  virtues  of  her  own 
sex  while  displaying  those  generally  regarded  as 
the  special  appanage  of  the  other." 

That  is  the  true,  characteristic  utterance  of 
France  :  the  voice  which  one  would  expect  to 
hear  in  the  country  which  produced  Jeanne 
d'Arc,  La  Grande  Mademoiselle,  Mme  de  La 


THE   SISTERS  FERNIG  21 

Rochejacquelein,  the  Duchesse  de  Berry,  and 
Mile  Juliette  Dodu — of  all  of  whom  we  shall 
have  to  speak.  One  hears  the  voice  louder  than 
anywhere  else  perhaps  in  the  story  of  Felicite 
and  Theophile  Fernig,  those  Amazons  of  Jem- 
mappes,  whose  exploits  have  been  celebrated 
by  the  lyric  pen  of  Lamartine  in  his  Histoire  des 
Girondins,  and  whose  memory  is  kept  alive  by 
a  monument  recently  erected  on  the  field  on 
which  they  acquitted  themselves  so  gallantly. 

Felicite  was  twenty-two,  and  Theophile  was 
seventeen.  Their  father  was  some  sort  of  a  clerk 
in  the  public  service,  and  also  a  traveller,  a 
philosopher,  and  a  patriot.  He  had  visited 
Voltaire  at  Ferney  ;  he  was  reckoned  homme 
sensible,  as  became  a  disciple  of  Rousseau  ; 
his  fellow  citizens  had  elected  him  to  com- 
missioned rank  in  the  National  Guard.  He 
was  the  father  of  five  children — a  son  who  was 
in  the  army,  and  four  daughters  who  would  have 
liked  to  be  in  it.  Felicite  had  distinguished  her- 
self in  the  competitions  of  some  local  Society  of 
Archers,  and  been  nominated  to  the  honorary 
office  of  Queen  of  that  Society  ;  and  when  the 
Austrians,  who  were  trying  to  put  Louis  XVI 
back  on  his  throne,  were  at  Mons  and  Tournai, 
the  thunder  of  the  guns  reached  the  girls'  ears 
in  the  village  of  Mortagne  in  French  Flanders. 
It  was  their  opportunity  ;  and  Felicite  and 
Theophile  were  old  enough  to  seize  it. 

They  began  as  what  we  should  call  Girl  Guides. 
Their  father  had  often  taken  them  with  him 


22  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

when  he  went  shooting  ;  and  they  knew  every 
inch  of  the  country.  So  they  offered  their  ser- 
vices, and  showed  the  French  sharp-shooters 
how  to  lure  the  enemy  into  ambuscades — all 
this,  at  first,  without  their  father's  know- 
ledge : 

"  Their  secret/1  writes  Lamartine,  "  was 
long  kept  loyally.  M.  de  Fernig,  when  he 
returned  to  his  domicile  in  the  morning,  and 
discussed  the  night's  exploits  over  the  breakfast- 
table,  never  suspected  that  his  own  daughters 
had  been  in  the  forefront  of  the  fray  with  the 
sharp-shooters,  and  had,  more  than  once,  rescued 
him  from  danger/' 

But  the  secret  was  revealed  at  last.  One  day, 
after  the  fighting  had  been  more  severe  than 
usual,  and  the  combatants  were  worn  out  with 
their  exertions,  the  elder  Fernig  saw  a  strange 
sight  :  Felicite  and  Theophile,  armed  with  rusty 
sabres  and  antique  blunderbusses,  their  faces 
blackened  with  powder,  lying  fast  asleep  in  the 
open,  their  heads  supported  by  their  knap- 
sacks : 

"  It  was  an  indescribable  scene,"  Theophile 
has  recorded.  "  Affection,  alarm,  and  joy 
found  successive  expression  on  my  good  father's 
countenance.  He  came  to  us  with  open  arms, 
and  pressed  us  to  his  heart,  stammering  out  : 
'  Ah  me  !  Chips  of  the  old  block  !  I  recognise 
my  blood/  " 


THE   SISTERS  FERNIG  23 

The  rest  was  simple.  There  was  no  longer 
any  need  for  mystery.  The  sisters  were  pre- 
sented to  Dumouriez — "  a  happy  encounter/' 
he  writes,  "  and  one  calculated  to  stimulate 
the  courage  of  my  men/'  He  gave  them  uni- 
forms and  horses,  and  they  proved  themselves 
worthy  of  the  gift.  "  The  Fernig  girls/1  General 
Beurnonville  reported  to  the  Convention,  "  were 
very  capable  of  killing  their  men "  ;  and 
there  is  unanimous  testimony  to  the  effect  that 
they  were  as  modest  and  well-conducted  as 
they  were  brave.  "  They  were  even  more 
remarkable/1  Dumouriez  writes,  "for  the  pro- 
priety of  their  behaviour  than  for  their  reckless 
daring  "  ;  and  the  Commissaries'  of  the  Con- 
vention, sent  to  inspect  the  army,  declared 
that  they  found  them  "  respected  and  honoured 
in  the  midst  of  an  army  of  young  men/' 

Moreover,  the  record  of  their  valiant  deeds  is 
particular  as  well  as  general.  Felicit6  rode  in 
a  charge  by  the  side  of  the  Due  de  Chartres, 
afterwards  Louis-Philippe,  and  saved  a  young 
Belgian  officer,  Frangois  van  der  Wallen,  from 
the  sabres  of  the  Uhlans ;  Th6ophile  brought 
a  Hungarian  major  back  to  the  French  camp  as 
her  prisoner.  All  France  would  have  rung  with 
their  praises  if  they  had  not  made  the  mistake 
of  putting  too  much  faith  in  Dumouriez.  He 
was  their  king  of  men,  and,  when  he  turned 
traitor,  they  concluded  that  whatever  so  great 
a  man  did  must  be  right,  and  crossed  the  frontier 
with  him  :  an  error  of  judgment  for  which 


24  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

they  paid  the  penalty  with  a  wandering  life 
and  a  period  of  destitution.  One  hears  of 
F61icite  keeping  a  small  lottery  office  at  Brussels, 
while  Theophile,  whom  her  younger  sister 
Louise  had  joined,  went  round  the  village  fairs, 
hawking  combs  and  other  trifling  toilet  articles  ; 
but  that  occupation  proved  unprofitable,  and 
they  moved  on. 

A  poor  end,  it  will  be  thought ;  but  happily 
it  was  not  the  end — there  is  a  romance  to 
follow.  We  have  seen  how  Felicit6  saved  a 
young  Belgian  officer's  life,  killing  two  Uhlans 
in  order  to  do  so.  The  young  Belgian  was 
wounded,  and  was  laid  up  for  a  long  time  in 
the  military  hospital  at  Brussels.  When  he 
recovered  he  vowed  that  he  would  devote 
his  life  to  searching  for  the  woman  who  had 
saved  him.  Whether  she  was  in  Brussels,  un- 
known to  him,  at  the  time,  is  uncertain  :  at  all 
events,  he  searched  for  her  elsewhere,  wandering 
through  Germany,  and  other  northern  countries. 
At  last  he  discovered  her,  in  a  remote  refuge, 
somewhere  in  Denmark,  brought  her  back  to 
Belgium,  and  married  her.  Four  children  were 
born  of  the  marriage  ;  and  two  of  them  at 
least  grew  up  to  do  well  in  the  world.  One  of 
them  became  Honorary  Counsellor  at  the  Douai 
Court  of  Appeal ;  another  Inspect  or- General 
of  the  Belgian  prisons. 

Of  Theophile' s  subsequent  career  one  knows 
less ;  but  there  is  reason  to  believe  that  she 
too  had  her  romance,  though  it  was  not  a  happy 


THE   SISTERS   FERNIG  25 

one.  There  exists  a  letter  of  hers,  addressed, 
in  1801,  to  one  of  her  cousins,  an  officer  of 
dragoons  : 

"  My  heart,  dearest,  is  not  a  heart  of  bronze. 
It  felt  keenly,  though  it  was  stoically  firm  ;  and 
it  has  been  the  victim  of  its  resolution.  Five 
years  ago  I  swore  to  renounce,  and  also  swore 
that  I  would  never  love  again." 

No  more  than  that,  of  which  we  may  make 
what  we  like.  It  proves,  at  any  rate — what 
many  of  our  stories  may  prove — that  the  heart 
of  a  woman  warrior  is  not  necessarily  coated 
with  triple  brass  ;  though  we  need  not  conclude 
that  Theophile  died  of  love  because  she  died 
young.  Her  secret,  whatever  it  may  have  been, 
is  buried  with  her  in  her  tomb,  which  is  at 
Brussels ;  but  she  and  her  sister  now  have 
their  joint  monument  at  Jemmappes. 


CHAPTER   III 

The  Vivandieres — Heroines  of  the  retreat  from  Moscow — Heroines 
of  the  war  of  1870-71 — Annette  Drevon — Jeanne  Bonne- 
mere — Mme  Jarrethout,  the  Mother  of  the  Volunteers — 
Louise  de  Beaulieu. 

JUST  as  the  French  delight  to  see  in  the  woman 
warrior  a  heroine  who  does  not  cease  to  be 
tender  and  virtuous  because  she  is  strong  and 
of  a  good  courage,  so  they  are  always  eager  to 
acclaim  the  romance  of  war  in  stories  of  the 
endurance  and  valiant  indifference  to  danger 
of  their  picturesque  vivandieres.  They  call 
them  cantini&res  nowadays, — vivandieres  is  an 
eighteenth-century  word ;  but  it  is  only  the 
name  that  has  changed.  The  office  remains  ; 
the  duties  are  still  pretty  much  what  they 
were  ;  the  standard  of  intrepidity  has  not  been 
lowered.  The  cantiniere  with  whom  an  officer 
remonstrated  for  coming  up  under  a  heavy 
fire  with  her  refreshments,  and  who  reproached 
the  officer,  in  her  turn,  for  wishing  to  deprive 
the  boys  of  their  drinks  at  the  hour  when  they 
stood  in  greatest  need  of  them,  dates  from  no 
further  back  than  the  Franco-German  War,  and 
is  admiringly  remembered  as  a  model. 

Larousse,  in  his  great   Encyclopaedia,   may 

26 


THE  VIVANDIERES  27 

chaff  the  cantiniere,  as  Sir  William  Gilbert,  in 
H.M.S.  Pinafore,  chaffed  dear  little  Buttercup, 
the  bumboat  woman.  He  finds  her,  in  fact, 
unf eminine — unsexed ;  he  tells  the  story  of 
the  cantiniere  who,  being  asked  how  many 
children  she  had,  passed  the  question  on  to  her 
husband,  with  the  scornful  remark  that  she, 
for  her  part,  was  too  seriously  occupied  to  have 
time  to  attend  to  such  homely  details.  But  the 
French  soldier  knows  better  ;  and  the  French 
civilian  accepts  the  soldier's  verdict.  From 
the  time  of  Mere  Belgrade,  who  earned  her 
sobriquet  at  the  siege  of  the  Serbian  capital  in 
1717,  many  and  many  a  cantiniere  and  vivan^- 
diere  has  had  her  name  inscribed  upon  the  roll 
of  honour.  Bonaparte  himself,  in  his  first 
Italian  campaign,  paid  signal  homage  to  one 
of  them,  hanging  a  gold  chain  about  her  neck 
as  a  token  of  his  appreciation  of  the  courage 
with  which  she  had  plunged  into  the  Taglia- 
mento  and  rescued  a  drowning  grenadier. 
When  the  history  of  the  vivandieres  comes  to 
be  written — and  one  can  imagine  few  pleasanter 
occupations  for  a  literary  officer  on  the  retired 
list — the  mine  of  anecdote  will  be  found  to  be 
rich  in  golden  deeds. 

Here  and  there,  no  doubt,  a  story  will  crop 
up  more  suitable  to  comic  opera  than  to  military 
history.  A  story  of  that  kind,  related  in  the 
Memoirs  of  the  Duchesse  d'Abrantes,  constitutes 
one  of  the  minor  episodes  of  Bonaparte's  cam- 
paign in  Egypt.  The  heroine  of  it — if  heroine 


28  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

be  the  word — was  a  cantiniere,  the  wife  of  a 
sergeant,  whom  the  Mamelukes  caught  in  a 
garden,  where  she  was  eating  figs,  and  carried 
off  into  captivity  in  Syria.  The  sergeant 
appealed  to  the  general  to  appeal  to  the  chivalry 
of  the  enemy  to  compel  the  restoration  of  his 
stolen  wife.  Bonaparte  consented,  and  opened 
negotiations,  with  the  result  that  it  was  agreed 
that  the  cantiniere  should,  if  she  desired  it,  be 
exchanged  for  a  number  of  Arab  prisoners 
whom  the  French  had  taken.  But  the  canti- 
niere did  not  desire  to  be  exchanged,  and  sent 
a  message  to  say  so.  She  was  very  happy,  she 
said,  in  a  Pasha's  harem,  and  she  proposed  to 
remain  in  it ;  so  there  was  nothing  for  Bonaparte 
to  do  but  to  shrug  his  shoulders  and  admit 
himself  beaten. 

That,  obviously,  is  an  anecdote  belonging 
to  the  lighter  side  of  the  subject.  One  prefers 
the  stories  which  show  the  cantiniere  as  devoted 
wife  and  mother ;  and  one  may  take  two 
typical  stories  of  that  kind  in  the  annals  of 
the  great  retreat  from  Moscow. 

The  heroine  of  one  of  them,  the  wife  of  a 
drummer  in  the  7th  regiment  of  Infantry,  had 
the  misfortune  to  fall  ill  during  the  occupation 
of  Moscow.  Her  husband  procured  a  horse 
and  cart  for  her,  and  marched  beside  her  while 
she  drove  as  far  as  Smolensk.  At  Smolensk, 
however,  the  horse  collapsed,  and  was  cut  up 
and  eaten  by  the  starving  soldiers.  No  other 
horse  could  be  procured,  for  the  few  which  then 


THE  VIVANDIERES  29 

remained  were  wanted  for  the  artillery.  It 
seemed  as  if  the  cantiniere  would  have  to  be 
abandoned  to  the  tender  mercies  of  the  enemy  ; 
but  the  drummer  would  not  have  it  so.  "  No, 
no/'  he  said.  "  She  wouldn't  desert  me,  and 
I  am  not  going  to  desert  her.  As  there  are 
no  more  horses,  I  shall  draw  the  cart  myself/' 
He  harnessed  himself  to  it,  and  dragged  it 
through  the  snow,  all  the  way  from  Smolensk 
to  Vilna.  But  that  was  all  that  he  could  do. 
At  Vilna  the  Cossacks  came  up  ;  and  drummer 
and  cantiniere  surrendered  themselves  together 
as  their  prisoners. 

A  striking  story  that ;  but  still  more  striking 
is  the  story  of  the  cantiniere  of  the  33rd. 

We  know  nothing  of  her  husband — perhaps 
she  was  a  widow,  for  that  terrible  war  made 
many  widows.  At  any  rate,  she  was  a  mother 
with  one  child — a  daughter  just  six  months 
old.  A  mother,  too,  of  whom  all  mothers 
everywhere  will  be  proud !  Whatever  hap- 
pened, she  vowed,  she  would  bring  her  baby 
safely  back  to  France  ;  so  she  wrapped  the 
infant  in  furs  and  marched  with  the  soldiers, 
carrying  it  in  her  arms.  She  could  not  nurse 
it ;  and  there  was  no  milk  to  be  had.  There 
was  nothing  for  it  but  to  devise  a  new  kind  of 
infant's  food — a  sort  of  paste  made  of  the 
blood  of  dead  horses,  and  held  to  her  body  to 
be  warmed  by  the  heat.  Incredible  though  it 
may  seem,  that  noisome  mixture  kept  the 
child  alive. 


30  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

Twice  in  the  course  of  that  awful  journey 
the  mother  lost  her  child,  putting  it  down 
for  a  moment  while  she  rested,  and  then 
separated  from  it  by  the  sudden  alarm  of  a 
Cossack  charge,  but  each  time  she  found  it 
again.  The  first  time  it  was  lying  in  a  field ; 
the  second  time  she  found  that  some  good 
Samaritan  had  placed  it  in  a  bed  in  one  of  the 
ruined  houses  of  a  burnt-out  village.  She 
rescued  it,  and  went  on  to  the  hardest  of  all 
her  trials — the  passage  of  the  Beresina,  under 
the  Russian  fire. 

There  were  two  pontoon  bridges,  but  these 
were  giving  way  beneath  the  weight  of  an 
army  which  had  become  a  mob.  Our  can- 
tiniere,  however,  caught  a  stray  horse,  mounted 
it,  and  set  out  to  swim  the  frozen  river,  down 
which  the  ice-floes  were  swirling.  The  exhausted 
beast  sank  so  far  under  her  weight  that  only 
its  head  was  above  water  ;  and  its  rider,  too, 
was  almost  completely  submerged.  Neither 
her  courage,  however,  nor  her  resourcefulness 
failed  her.  With  one  hand  she  held  her  child 
aloft ;  in  the  other  she  gripped  a  sabre  with 
which  she  kept  off  the  floating  blocks  of  ice. 
And  so,  at  last,  she  reached  the  bank  with  her 
burden,  while  thousands  of  unencumbered 
men  were  perishing  all  around  her  ;  and  so  to 
safety,  without  any  further  trouble — without, 
it  is  said,  having  so  much  as  caught  a  cold 
in  the  head  as  the  result  of  her  terrible 
ordeal. 


THE  VIVANDIERES  31 

An  amazing  example,  truly,  of  hardihood 
and  resolution,  and  only  one  among  many 
such  examples,  though  perhaps  the  most  notable 
of  them.  One  regrets  that  the  names  of  the 
heroines  have  been  lost,  though  their  deeds 
have  been  remembered ;  but  when  we  pass  to 
the  war  of  1870-71 — a  time  when  records  were 
more  carefully  and  exactly  kept — we  still  find 
the  cantinieres  of  the  French  army  exhibiting 
all  the  old  intrepidity.  Stories  of  their  nerve 
and  devotion  abound  in  the  books  of  personal 
reminiscences  which  supplement  the  formal 
histories ;  and  we  may  select  a  few  of  them, 
almost  at  random,  beginning  with  the  story  of 
Annette  Drevon  of  the  32nd  regiment  of  the 
line. 

Annette  was  an  old  campaigner,  a  veteran 
among  cantinieres.  She  had  served  with  the 
Zouaves  in  Italy,  and  gained  her  decoration 
on  the  field  of  Magenta,  where  she  had  saved 
a  flag  from  capture,  running  through  the  body 
the  two  Austrians  who  had  tried  to  take  it. 
Now  she  was  at  Thionville  ;  and  Thionville  had 
to  surrender.  The  French  garrison  was  de- 
spatched to  a  German  prison ;  and  Hessians, 
Bavarians,  and  Wurtembergers  swaggered  in 
the  streets  in  their  place.  Annette  was  not 
the  woman  to  remove  her  red  ribbon  in  the 
presence  of  the  victorious  enemy ;  she  wore  it 
as  usual  when  she  walked  abroad.  A  burly 
Bavarian  thought  it  funny  to  plant  himself  in 
front  of  her  on  the  pavement  and  laugh  in  her 


32  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

face.  Annette  passed  him  without  a  word  ; 
and  then  he  gave  tongue  and  insulted  her. 
"  Coward  !  "  cried  Annette  ;  and  the  Bavarian 
drew  his  bayonet.  But  Annette  was  too  quick 
for  him ;  her  revolver  was  drawn  first,  and 
she  blew  his  brains  out. 

Of  course  she  was  quickly  seized,  disarmed, 
and  taken  before  a  court-martial.  The  court 
condemned  her  to  be  shot ;  and  shot  she  would 
have  been  had  not  Prince  Frederick  Charles 
intervened  and  pardoned  her,  and  so  enabled 
her  to  end  her  days  in  a  peaceful  civilian  calling. 
She  became  a  market  woman — one  of  the  most 
highly  esteemed  of  those  dames  de  la  halle  who 
give  colour  and  interest  to  Parisian  life.  For 
years  she  was  to  be  seen,  on  fete  days,  at  the 
Halles  Centrales,  presiding  over  the  sale  of 
vegetables  with  the  cross  of  honour  pinned  to 
her  breast,  and  receiving  the  congratulations 
of  innumerable  friends. 

Another  interesting  case  is  that  of  Jeanne 
Bonnemere,  another  veteran.  Visitors  to  Paris 
have  seen  her  in  comparatively  recent  times, 
making  and  selling  bouquets  in  a  small  florist's 
shop  at  one  of  the  entrances  to  the  Louvre. 
She,  too,  wore  orders  on  her  bosom, — the 
Turkish  Cross  of  the  Medjidie,  as  well  as 
the  Crimean  and  Italian  medals.  Her  first 
decoration  had  been  won  at  the  battle  of  the 
Tchernaya,  where  she  had  received  a  bayonet 
wound  while  rushing  to  the  rescue  of  a  French 
officer  whom  she  had  seen  fall.  She  had  left 


JEANNE  BONNEMERE  33 

the  service  in  1867  ;  but  the  invasion  brought 
her  back  to  it — a  woman,  by  that  time,  fairly 
well  advanced  in  years.  She  was  at  Metz  ; 
and  after  Metz  had  fallen,  she  reported  herself 
at  Orleans. 

At  Orleans  she  heard  that  the  Prefect  had 
despatches  of  the  first  importance  which  he 
wished  to  send  to  Paris.  Forthwith  she  waited 
on  him,  and  volunteered  to  carry  them.  "  I'm 
an  old  woman,"  she  said.  "  The  Prussians 
will  hardly  suspect  me.  I'm  more  likely  to  get 
through  than  a  man."  The  Prefect  accepted 
her  offer,  and  entrusted  her  with  one  copy  of 
the  despatches,  sending  two  other  copies  separ- 
ately by  other  messengers.  The  two  men  were 
caught  and  shot  out  of  hand  at  Villeneuve 
Saint-Georges.  Jeanne  Bonnemere  was  also 
caught,  told  that  she  was  known  to  be  carrying 
despatches,  and  threatened  with  instant  death 
if  she  did  not  produce  them ;  but  she  showed 
no  sign  of  fear.  "  I  have  no  despatches.  If 
you  disbelieve  me,  search  me,"  she  said ;  and 
they  searched  her  and  found  nothing.  She 
had  rolled  the  despatch  up  into  a  ball,  chewed 
it  to  a  pulp,  and  swallowed  it  :  a  difficult  meal, 
but  Jeanne  Bonnemere,  as  we  have  seen, 
recovered  from  the  indigestion,  and  ended  her 
days  tranquilly  as  a  florist. 

And  then  there  was  Mme  Jarrethout,  known 

indifferently  as  the  Mother  of  the  Volunteers, 

and  the  cantiniere  of  Chateaudun,  where   she 

not  only  served  out  refreshments,  but  gave  first 

3 


34  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

aid  to  the  wounded,  and  helped  to  bury  the 
dead.  She  lost  her  cart  at  Chateaudun,  but 
continued  to  follow  the  campaign  on  foot, 
was  taken  prisoner,  and  escaped,  served  at 
Coulmiers  an4  Le  Mans,  saved  the  lives  of  a 
Major  of  Mobiles  and  a  franc-tireur  who  after- 
wards became  one  of  the  Paris  Municipal 
Councillors,  and  was  finally  accorded  her  decora- 
tion for  "  exceptional  courage  and  devotion  " 
by  a  decree  of  July  13,  1880.  And  then- 
last  but  not  least — there  was  Mme  Louise  de 
Beaulieu  :  a  volunteer  and  a  woman  of 
means. 

Somehow  or  other  Mme  de  Beaulieu's  case 
was  overlooked  at  the  hour  when  recompenses 
were  distributed.  General  de  Cissey  had,  in 
fact,  sent  her  the  Military  Medal ;  but,  through 
some  oversight,  the  distinction  had  not  been 
officially  confirmed.  She  was  actually  brought 
up  before  the  magistrates  for  wearing  decora- 
tions to  which  she  was  not  entitled,  and  she 
was  reduced  to  poverty.  France  awoke  to  the 
fact  when  it  read  the  following  announcement 
in  the  newspapers  : 

"  Mme  de  Louise  Beaulieu,  who  lost  her  right 
arm  as  the  result  of  a  wound  received  on 
December  2,  1870,  decorated  with  the  Military, 
and  with  eight  other  medals  for  saving  life, 
is  hereby  authorised  by  the  Prefect  of  Police  to 
distribute  prospectuses  in  the  public  streets. 
Tradesmen  who  are  willing  to  avail  themselves 


LOUISE   DE  BEAULIEU  35 

of  her  services  are  requested  to  write  to  her 
at  63  Rue  Quincampoix." 

To  such  depths  can  officialism  be  dragged 
down  by  its  red  tape.  It  was  a  case  for  the 
intervention  of  a  journalist  to  teach  the  Govern- 
ment its  duty ;  and  Victor  Hugo's  friend, 
Auguste  Vacquerie  of  the  Rappel,  took  the 
matter  up.  "  Who/'  he  asked,  "  is  Mme  Louise 
de  Beaulieu  ?  "  and  he  answered  his  own  ques- 
tion by  a  simple,  but  eloquent,  statement  of 
her  services. 

"  In  1870  she  was  thirty  years  of  age.  She 
was  well  off,  and  might  have  stayed  by  her 
own  fireside.  Instead  of  doing  so,  she  enlisted 
as  a  cantinihe  in  the  Legion  of  the  Friends  of 
France.  She  took  part  in  eight  battles,  helping 
to  collect  the  wounded  under  fire. 

"  She  narrowly  escaped  being  shot.  By  the 
Prussians  ?  No,  by  the  French.  On  October 
13,  at  Saint-Denis,  a  corporal,  thinking  that 
she  looked  too  distinguished  for  a  cantiniere, 
assumed  that  she  was  a  spy  and  dragged  her 
to  a  miserable  cellar  in  the  Rue  Compoise. 
She  was  kept  in  it  for  four  days,  and  only  taken 
out  of  it  to  be  led  to  the  place  of  execution, 
where  she  was  tied  to  a  post,  with  her  hands 
fastened  behind  her  back.  A  soldier  stepped 
forward  to  bandage  her  eyes  ;  she  would  not 
have  it,  but  claimed  to  be  allowed  herself  to 
give  the  order  to  fire.  She  was  about  to  give 
it  when  an  officer  of  mobiles  thrust  him- 


36  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

self  between  her  and  the  firing  party.  A  few 
days  later  she  received  the  bronze  cross  of  the 
French  Society  for  the  Aid  of  the  Wounded  on 
Land  and  Sea. 

"In  the  same  month,  we  find  her  again  at 
the  skirmish  of  Nanterre,  and  then  at  three 
battles  at  Bourget,  and  in  November  at 
Bry-sur-Marne,  and  at  Villiers,  where  her 
conduct  was  thus  remarked  upon,  on  the 
following  day,  in  the  columns  of  L* Ami  de  la 
France  : 

"  '  Our  cantiniere,  Mme  Louise  de  Beaulieu, 
gave  proofs  of  a  courage  beyond  all  praise.  In 
defiance  of  the  order  of  the  major,  she  remained 
in  the  firing  line,  and  brought  in  twenty-five 
wounded,  whom  she  picked  up  under  fire  and 
took  to  the  ambulance/ 

"  On  December  2  she  was  at  Champigny  ; 
and  it  was  there  that  she  got  her  wound  in  the 
right  arm.  The  wound  did  not  prevent  her 
from  continuing  her  work  of  courage  and 
humanity.  During  the  fights  at  Grospay  and 
on  the  plain  of  Drancy  she  carried  the  wounded 
in  her  left  arm,  affixed  the  bandages  with  her 
uninjured  hand,  and  used  her  teeth  to  help 
make  the  ligatures. 

"  During  that  terrible  night  of  December  2, 
after  a  most  trying  day,  Mme  de  Beaulieu, 
overcome  with  fatigue,  covered  with  mud  and 
'blood,  fell  asleep  on  a  truss  of  straw,  with  her 
feet  in  the  snow  ;  when  she  woke,  her  left  foot 
was  frost-bitten.  On  January  19,  however,  she 


LOUISE   DE  BEAULIEU  37 

was  back  again  at  her  work,  lifting  up  the 
wounded  with  her  one  remaining  arm,  making 
them  cling  to  her,  with  their  arms  round  her 
neck,  and,  in  spite  of  the  agony  which  she 
suffered  in  her  left  foot,  carrying  them  to  places 
of  safety. 

"  Do  you  think  it  right  now — do  you  think 
it  tolerable — that  a  woman  with  nine  medals 
should  be  reduced  to  distributing  prospectuses 
in  the  public  streets  ? 

"  But  she  had  money,  you  will  tell  me.  Yes, 
she  had  money  before  the  war.  But  she  spent 
it  nobly.  '  More  than  one  surviving  witness/ 
says  a  pamphlet  which  I  have  before  me,  '  can 
testify  to  her  generosity  ;  more  than  twenty 
thousand  francs  of  her  fortune  went  in 
brandy,  tobacco,  bread,  and  horses  for  our 
soldiers.' 

"  In  May  1871  she  organised  an  ambulance 
at  her  own  expense. 

"  There  is  no  need  to  insist — the  facts  speak 
for  themselves.  Some  newspapers  have  taken 
the  patriotic  initiative  of  proposing  that  Mme 
Louis  de  Beaulieu  shall  be  set  up  in  one  of  our 
national  tobacco-shops.  We  hope,  at  all  events, 
that  the  Committee  of  the  Chamber  of  Deputies, 
which  has  the  matter  in  hand,  will  perceive 
that  here  is  a  debt  which  the  country  ought  to 
pay." 

Which  debt,  of  course,  the  country  did  pay 
when  its  attention  was  drawn  to  it. 


38  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

And  here  our  chapter  on  the  valiant  deeds  of 
the  cantinieres  may  close.  It  remains,  before 
we  leave  the  Franco-German  War,  to  speak  of 
the  most  famous  of  all  its  heroines — Juliette 
Dodu,  the  telegraph  operator  ;  but  she  must 
have  a  chapter  to  herself. 


CHAPTER  IV 

The  courageous  exploit  of  Mile  Juliette  Dodu,  of  the  Telegraph 
Service,  in  the  Franco-German  War — Mile  Wipper  and  Mile 
Meyer  of  the  same  Service. 

JULIETTE  DODU  was  a  Creole  from  Reunion, 
and  the  daughter  of  a  naval  surgeon — a  girl 
not  yet  quite  twenty  years  of  age.  She  was 
an  operator  in  the  Telegraph  Service,  stationed 
at  Pithiviers,  about  twenty-five  miles  from 
Orleans,  between  that  town  and  Paris,  at  the 
time  when  the  seat  of  the  Provisional  Govern- 
ment, formed  to  direct  the  defence  while  Paris 
was  besieged,  was  at  Tours.  General  Vinoy, 
who  had  approached  Sedan  too  late  for  the 
battle,  had  fallen  back  on  Paris.  The  nucleus 
of  the  first  Army  of  the  Loire  was  being  got 
together  at  Vierzon,  Bourges,  and  Nevers. 
The  flying  clouds  of  German  cavalry,  scouring 
the  country  for  information,  had  necessarily  to 
take  Pithiviers  on  their  way. 

The  first  Uhlans  were  seen  there  on  September 
20,  1870  ;  the  first  squadron  of  them  entered 
the  little  town  on  the  following  day,  and 
promptly  stationed  sentries  outside  the  door 
of  the  telegraph  office.  Mile  Dodu  had  just 
time  to  send  the  news  of  their  arrival  to  Tours 

39 


40  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

and  Orleans  ;  then  she  walked  out,  through  the 
midst  of  the  enemy,  with  her  Morse  apparatus 
hidden  under  her  cloak.  The  Prussians  with- 
drew, returned  and  cut  the  wires,  and  then 
retired  a  second  time.  Mile  Dodu,  thanks  to 
her  forethought  in  preserving  her  apparatus, 
was  able  at  once  to  re-establish  communications 
and  inform  the  Prefect  of  Orleans  of  what  had 
happened.  She  had  been  specially  charged  to 
send  all  the  military  news  that  she  could  get— 
and  she  sent  plenty  of  it — with  great  diligence. 

On  September  27,  however,  the  Prussians 
entered  Pithiviers  for  the  third  time.  Mile 
Dodu  had  just  time  to  telegraph  that  they  were 
entering  the  town,  and  to  destroy  all  the  docu- 
ments which  it  was  undesirable  to  let  them 
see ;  then  she  once  again  made  her  escape, 
carrying  her  apparatus  with  her  as  before. 
Officers  entered  the  office,  made  the  most  careful 
search,  but  discovered  nothing  which  was  of 
any  use  to  them.  Then  they  proceeded  once 
again  to  cut  the  wires  ;  but  one  wire  happily 
escaped  their  observation.  Mile  Dodu  was  able 
to  use  it,  unknown  to  them,  by  night ;  and 
despatch  after  despatch  continued  to  be  sent 
from  Pithiviers  to  Orleans. 

Presently  the  fighting  began.  The  Germans 
defeated  General  de  la  Motterouge,  and  occupied 
Orleans ;  and  then  Mile  Dodu  succeeded  in 
establishing,  with  the  help  of  an  inspector 
named  Perceval,  direct  telegraphic  communica- 
tion with  Montargis.  General  d'Aurelle  de 


JULIETTE   DODU  41 

Paladines  next  defeated  the  Germans,  and 
reoccupied  Orleans,  whence  he  came  on  to 
Pithiviers,  which  the  Germans  had  to  evacuate. 
Mile  Dodu,  of  course,  continued  her  service, 
which  was  now  heavier  than  ever  :  on  one 
occasion  she  remained  on  duty  for  seventy-two 
hours  without  a  chance  of  sleep.  But  Metz 
had  now  capitulated  ;  and  Prince  Frederick 
Charles's  army  was  approaching  by  forced 
marches.  It  was  the  turn  of  the  French  to 
evacuate  Pithiviers,  the  turn  of  the  Germans 
to  reoccupy  it.  Once  more  Mile  Dodu  was 
left  to  do  what  she  could  in  the  enemy's  coun- 
try :  what  she  was  able  to  do  we  are  about  to 
see. 

This  time  the  enemy  had  brought  military 
telegraphists,  equipped  with  everything  required 
for  the  repair  of  broken  lines.  Among  other 
things  they  brought  two  coils  of  wire  which 
they  deposited  in  the  waiting-room  adjoining 
the  telegraph  office.  Mile  Dodu  and  her  mother 
saw  the  coils  of  wire  in  the  waiting-room  ;  but 
they  did  not  leave  them  there.  They  carried 
them  off  to  their  bedroom  and  hid  them  under 
their  mattress,  where  they  remained  until  the 
conclusion  of  the  war  ;  with  the  result  that 
other  wires  had  to  be  sent  for  before  the  Germans 
could  establish  telegraphic  communication  with 
their  base.  It  was  a  good  beginning,  but  the 
sequel  was  to  be  better  ;  and  the  great  coup 
was,  as  it  curiously  happened,  inspired  by 
Prince  Frederick  Charles  himself. 


42  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

He  saw  Mile  Dodu  sitting  at  her  bedroom 
window,  and  he  saluted  her.  It  seemed  to  her 
that  he  saluted  with  an  air  of  insolence ;  and 
she  banged  the  window  in  his  face,  and  told  a 
German  officer  what  she  thought  of  his  be- 
haviour. The  news  of  her  protest  was  reported 
to  the  Prince,  who  valued  his  reputation  for 
courtesy  and  desired  to  recover  it.  He  made 
a  point,  therefore,  of  passing  the  window  and 
saluting  again — as  ceremoniously,  this  time, 
as  if  he  had  been  paying  the  tribute  of  his 
homage  to  a  princess  of  the  blood.  In  that  way 
there  grew  up  a  sort  of  an  acquaintance  between 
him  and  Mile  Dodu  ;  and  presently  they  had 
speech  with  each  other  in  rather  exciting 
circumstances. 

It  was  on  the  day  of  the  battle  of  Beaune-la- 
Rolande.  The  German  tenure  of  Pithiviers 
was  not  yet  quite  secure ;  the  French  were 
pressing  their  troops  hard.  Prince  Frederick 
Charles  was  himself  directing  the  German 
operations  from  the  telegraph  office,  whence  he 
despatched  an  urgent  message  for  reinforcements 
of  artillery.  Mile  Dodu  was  present  at  the 
scene,  and  understood  what  was  being  done  ; 
and  her  patriotic  anguish  was  too  much  for  her. 
She  broke  out  with  indignant  words  : 

"  What !  "  she  exclaimed.  "  The  French  tele- 
graph sending  those  orders  to  our  enemies ! 
Good  God  !  And  to  think  that  there  is  no 
Frenchman  to  whom  it  has  occurred  to  cut  the 
line  !  " 


JULIETTE  DODU  43 

The  words  were  shouted,  not  muttered. 
Prince  Frederick  Charles  knew  French.  He 
turned  to  Mile  Dodu  with  a  significant  smile, 
and  spoke  to  her  in  French  : 

'  You  could  be  a  very  dangerous  young 
woman,  mademoiselle.  It  is  very  fortunate 
for  us  that  not  all  our  enemies  have  your 
courage  and  your  presence  of  mind." 

That  was  the  suggestion  which  once  more  set 
Mile  Dodu  thinking.  She  could  be  dangerous, 
could  she  ?  She  asked  nothing  better.  If  she 
could  be  dangerous,  she  would.  Her  courage 
should  not  fail  her  ;  all  that  she  wanted  was 
an  idea,  an  inspiration,  an  opportunity. 

The  battle  continued  to  rage ;  and  the 
French  attack  was  rolled  back,  albeit  Captain 
Brugere — afterwards  General  Brugere  of  the 
presidential  household — captured  and  carried 
off  a  German  gun.  The  Germans  returned  to 
Pithiviers,  victorious  but  starving — reduced, 
with  the  passion  of  their  race  for  fat,  to  making 
soup  of  Mme  Dodu's  tallow  candles.  At  last 
they  fell  asleep,  and  Juliette  Dodu  had  her 
inspiration,  and  saw  her  chance.  Not  hers  to 
drive  a  tent-peg  treacherously  through  an 
enemy's  head,  like  Deborah — she  knew  a  better 
way.  She  had  her  professional  skill,  and  she 
had  her  Morse  apparatus,  which  she  had  hidden  ; 
one  of  the  wires  passed  close  beside  her  window. 
It  was  a  simple  business  to  establish  a  con- 
nection with  that  wire  and  tap  it. 

No  sooner  said  than  done — and  done  with 


44  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

great  effect,  most  disconcerting  to  the  Germans. 
The  operator  could  only  operate  by  night ; 
but  that  sufficed.  For  seventeen  successive 
nights  she  sat  up  by  her  apparatus,  taking 
notes  of  the  German  orders  and  despatches, 
and  making  full  copies  of  them,  which  she 
handed,  the  next  morning,  to  the  sub-Prefect, 
who  gave  them  to  trusty  messengers,  by  whom 
they  were  quickly  conveyed  to  the  head- 
quarters of  the  i8th  French  Army  Corps,  then 
at  Gien.  For  seventeen  days,  therefore,  the 
French  commanders  always  had  full  knowledge 
of  the  German  plans,  and  never  allowed  them- 
selves to  be  taken  by  surprise  by  them.  The 
Germans  knew — for  it  was  obvious — that  there 
was  some  leakage  of  information  somewhere  ; 
but  they  failed  to  discover  where  or  through 
whose  instrumentality. 

At  last,  however,  an  accident,  which  almost 
amounted  to  an  act  of  treachery,  betrayed  the 
truth  to  them. 

The  servant  of  the  Dodu  household — a 
frivolous  maid-of-all-work — was  found  to  be 
flirting  with  German  soldiers.  Mme  Dodu, 
furiously  angry,  spoke  her  mind  to  her  ;  the 
girl  lost  her  temper,  as  such  girls,  when  so  repri- 
manded, are  very  apt  to  do.  She  rejoined  with 
a  tu  quoque  : 

"  After  all/'  she  said,  "  what  I  am  doing  is 
not  nearly  so  bad  as  what  you  are  doing- 
sitting   up,    night   after   night,    to   steal   their 
despatches/' 


JULIETTE   DODU  45 

"  Hold  your  tongue/'  said  Mme  Dodu  ;  but 
it  was  too  late — the  mischief  had  been  done. 

The  wrangle  had  been  overheard  by  a  German 
soldier  who  happened  to  know  a  little  French. 
He  listened  attentively,  and  reported  what  he 
had  learnt  to  an  officer  ;  and,  the  clue  thus 
given,  the  mystery  was  quickly  solved.  Mile 
Dodu  was  instantly  arrested,  brought  before  a 
court-martial,  and  sentenced  to  be  shot.  The 
sentence  was  to  have  been  carried  out  in  her 
own  garden,  where  she  was  kept  under  observa- 
tion. A  priest,  suspected  of  being  a  disguised 
franctireur,  was  also  brought  into  that  garden 
and  shot  before  her  eyes.  "  It  will  be  your 
turn  next/'  they  told  her.  "  You  have  only  an 
hour  to  wait/' 

But  the  commander  of  the  German  forces 
had  his  humane  hesitations.  The  war  was  so 
nearly  over  that  the  execution  would  have 
seemed  an  act  of  vengeance  rather  than  of  justice. 
Seeing  that  France  was  already  beaten,  he  shrank 
from  the  responsibility  of  ordering  it,  and 
carrying  a  hideous  memory  through  life.  One 
may  suspect  that  he  admired  in  spite  of  his  rage 
at  having  been  so  cunningly  deceived.  So  he 
reprieved  his  prisoner,  and  telegraphed  to 
Prince  Frederick  Charles  for  instructions  ;  and 
Prince  Frederick  Charles,  though  the  French  had 
many  reasons  for  not  loving  him,  was  of  a  dif- 
ferent fibre  from  Von  Bissing,  Von  der  Lancken, 
and  Von  Sauberzweig.  He  remembered,  no 
doubt,  the  exchange  of  pleasantries  which  we 


46  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

have  recorded ;  and  his  orders  were  that  Mile 
Dodu  should  be  treated  as  a  prisoner  of  war  and 
sent  to  Germany  with  the  other  prisoners.  As  it 
happened,  the  armistice  was  arranged  before 
the  convoy  started,  and  it  was  at  Pithiviers 
that  she  was  set  at  liberty.  The  French  narrator 
adds  that  the  German  officers  in  occupation  of 
the  town  were  among  the  first  to  offer  her 
their  congratulations  on  her  release  and  the 
assurance  of  their  respectful  homage. 

That,  properly  speaking,  is  the  end  of  the 
story ;  but  it  is  a  story  with  a  sequel.  The 
Military  Medal,  and  the  Decoration  of  the  Legion 
of  Honour,  came  to  Mile  Dodu  in  due  course. 
She  received  professional  promotion — first  a 
post  at  Enghien,  and  afterwards  the  office  of 
Inspector-General  of  Ecoles  maternelles  ;  but  it 
was  left  to  a  private  citizen  to  come  forward 
with  the  offer  of  a  more  substantial  reward. 

A  letter  was  delivered,  one  day,  to  Mile  Dodu, 
— a  letter  which  fell,  as  it  were,  from  the  skies. 
Her  correspondent  desired  to  know  whether  she 
was  the  daughter  of  his  old  friend,  Dr.  Dodu, 
the  naval  surgeon.  She  replied  that  she  was, 
and  then  he  explained.  He  was  a  very  old 
man,  he  said ;  he  had  quarrelled  with  all  the 
members  of  his  family  ;  he  proposed,  therefore, 
to  bequeath  the  whole  of  his  fortune — which 
was  considerable — to  his  old  friend's  daughter, 
who  had  distinguished  herself  so  nobly  during 
the  dark  days  of  the  invasion.  Mile  Dodu 
replied,  as  one  would  have  expected  her  to  reply, 


JULIETTE  DODU  47 

that,  while  a  souvenir  would  be  welcome  to  her, 
she  could  not  think  of  accepting  any  legacy 
which  would  do  injustice  to  her  benefactor's 
relatives. 

The  philanthropist  submitted  to  the  remon- 
strance. When  he  died,  just  six  months  later, 
it  was  found  that  his  relatives  were  to  divide  the 
bulk  of  his  fortune,  but  that  Mile  Dodu  was  a 
legatee.  Happily,  however,  the  fortune  was 
so  large  that  the  legacy  yielded  such  an  income 
as  it  was  possible  to  live  upon.  Mile  Dodu 
decided,  therefore,  to  leave  the  public  service  ; 
her  decision  being  partly  prompted,  it  is  said, 
by  the  fact  that  her  colleagues  had  shown 
themselves  jealous  of  her  distinctions  and 
decorations,  and  made  things  uncomfortable  for 
her.  At  all  events,  she  retired  into  private 
life,  and  thenceforward  divided  her  time  be- 
tween Paris  and  Bievres,  where  she  possessed  a 
small  estate.  She  had  many  friends  ;  but  one 
does  not  hear  of  any  suitor  ;  and  she  died  un- 
married only  a  few  years  ago. 

She  was  not  the  only  employee  of  the  Post 
and  Telegraph  Department  who  risked  her  life 
for  her  country  during  the  war.  One  cannot 
leave  the  subject  without  paying  a  passing 
tribute  to  Mile  Wipper,  who  was  threatened 
with  a  court-martial  for  refusing  to  work  the 
telegraph  for  the  Germans  at  Sentheim,  near 
Belfort,  and  was  only  saved  by  the  news  of  the 
capitulation  of  Paris,  and  to  Mile  Josephine 
Mayer  of  Molsheim,  in  Alsace,  who  hid  French 


48 


WOMEN   IN   WAR 


letters,  refused  to  say  where  she  had  hidden 
them,  and  was  sent  to  serve  seven  years'  im- 
prisonment— a  captivity  from  which  she  was 
only  delivered  through  the  intercession  of  Jules 
Favre,  after  the  preliminaries  of  peace  had  been 
signed. 


CHAPTER   V 

Women  in  the  Russian  Campaign  of  1812 — Elizabeth  Hatzler.the 
dragoon — Josephine  Trinquart,  the  cantinitre — Women  at  the 
crossing  of  the  Beresina — Nidia,  the  mistress  of  General  Mont- 
brun — Adventures  of  the  actresses  at  the  Moscow  theatre — 
Mme  Verteuil — Aurore  de  Bursay — The  Reminiscences  of  Mme 
Domergue. 

A  WORD  next  of  the  hardships  which  women 
endured  during  the  retreat  from  Moscow.  Most 
of  them  were  actresses  ;  and  some  of  them  have 
told  their  stories.  One  of  them,  Mile  Louise 
Fusil,  at  one  time  the  bosom  friend  of  Talma's 
first  wife,  published  a  book  on  the  subject.  It 
was  her  book,  even  if — as  seems  probable — a 
journalist  wrote  it  for  her;  and  we  will  draw 
on  it,  first  pausing  to  glance  at  some  of  the 
other  stories  of  which  only  anecdotal  notes 
have  been  preserved. 

There  is  the  story,  for  instance,  of  Elizabeth 
Hatzler,  who  wore  the  uniform,  and  served  as  a 
dragoon.  Her  husband  was  with  her  ;  he  was 
wounded,  and  she  put  him  in  a  sledge,  and 
dragged  him  for  many  a  weary  mile  over  the 
snow.  At  last,  however,  the  sledge  was  over- 
taken by  the  Cossacks,  and  both  she  and  her 
husband  became  prisoners  of  war,  and  spent  no 
less  than  two  years  in  captivity.  At  last  they 
4  49 


50  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

obtained  their  release,  and  got  back  to  France, 
where  he  died  in  1819.  Elizabeth  Hatzler 
then  emigrated  to  the  United  States,  and  settled 
at  Philadelphia,  where,  in  spite  of  the  shock  to 
her  constitution,  she  lived  to  the  great  age  of 
ninety-one. 

Then  there  is  the  story  of  Josephine  Trinquart 
— another  of  those  valiant  cantinieres  whose 
glories  have  already  furnished  the  material  for 
a  chapter.  She  led  two  soldiers  to  the  rescue 
of  a  wounded  officer.  They  were  shot  down,  and 
she  went  on  without  them.  Two  of  the  enemy 
galloped  up  to  attack  her.  She  shot  one  of 
them,  bayoneted  the  other,  took  his  horse, 
lifted  her  wounded  officer  on  to  it,  and  rode  off 
with  him  in  triumph.  Her  constitution  seems 
to  have  suffered  as  little  permanent  injury  from 
her  hardships  as  that  of  Elizabeth  Hatzler,  for 
she  did  not  die  until  1872. 

A  third  story  may  be  taken  from  Segur's 
account  of  the  passage  of  the  Beresina.  The 
soldiers  pressing  across  the  bridge,  Segur  tells 
us,  saw  a  woman  trying  to  row  two  children 
across  in  a  fragile  skiff.  A  hummock  of  ice 
came  up  against  the  skiff  and  capsized  it.  Forth- 
with an  artilleryman  plunged  into  the  freezing 
water,  saved  one  of  the  two  children,  and  swam 
to  land  with  it.  The  child  was  heard  crying  for 
its  mother,  and  the  soldier  was  heard  comforting 
it.  He  had  not  fetched  it  out  of  the  river,  he 
was  heard  saying,  in  order  to  leave  it  on  the 
bank.  He  would  take  its  mother's  place,  and 


<NIDIA"  51 

see  that  it  wanted  for  nothing  ;  but  there  the 
story  stops,  and  one  does  not  know  whether 
circumstances  permitted  him  to  fulfil  his  promise. 

It  is  with  regret  that  one  sets  beside  that 
story  another  of  a  very  different  kind.  One 
mother,  it  is  related,  her  mind  unhinged  by  the 
horrors  she  had  witnessed,  threw  her  baby  away, 
in  order  to  save  herself.  Twice  it  was  picked 
up — once  by  Marshal  Ney  himself — and  handed 
back  to  her  ;  and  twice  she  pitched  it  back  into 
the  snow.  In  the  end,  we  are  told,  another 
woman  took  the  infant  from  her,  leaving  its 
mother  to  break  down  and  perish  by  the  way- 
side— as  there  can  be  little  doubt  that  she  did. 
The  last  that  was  heard  of  her  was  her  cry  of 
protest  :  that  she  wanted  to  get  back  to  France 
—that  the  child  was  too  young  to  care  whether 
it  got  back  to  France  or  not. 

Next  we  come  to  the  story  of  a  certain  Nidia, 
related  by  Ney's  mistress,  Ida  de  Sainte-Elme, 
in  her  Memoir es  d'une  contemporaine. 

"  There  were  quite  a  number  of  women, " 
Ida  de  Sainte-Elme  tells  us,  "  following  the 
army.  It  was  my  good  fortune  to  find  a  friend 
in  a  young  Lithuanian  lady,  whose  enthusiasm 
for  the  French  reached  the  point  of  heroism. 
She  had  given  Prince  Eugene  some  very  impor- 
tant information  about  Plat  off' s  march  ;  and, 
by  doing  so,  this  modern  Jeanne  d'Arc  had 
earned  the  gratitude  of  the  Commander-in- 
Chief  and  the  admiration  of  the  army.  In  fol- 


52  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

lowing  the  dictates  of  her  martial  enthusiasm, 
however,  Nidia  had  also  yielded  to  a  more 
intimate  and  secret  passion.  Alas !  During 
the  course  of  this  terrible  campaign  she  had 
the  sorrow  of  losing  the  hero  who  had  inspired 
her  courage.'* 

That  hero  was  General  Montbrun.  His  death 
had  left  Nidia  unprotected ;  but  his  memory 
continued  to  be  her  inspiration  : 

"  Nidia  had  pinned  a  piece  of  crape  to  her 
sleeve ;  and  when  the  liberties  of  military  life 
tended  towards  licence,  and  she  had  to  listen  to 
jests  ill  adapted  to  her  delicate  taste,  she 
silenced  the  jesters  with  a  haughty  look,  and 
the  words  : 

"  '  Soldiers,  I  beg  you  to  respect  the  mourn- 
ing which  I  wear  for  the  brave  Montbrun !  ' 

It  remains  to  be  said  that  Nidia  got  safely 
across  the  Beresina,  but  died  at  Torgau,  during 
the  passage  of  the  Elbe. 

And  now  we  come  to  the  actresses,  though 
not  yet  to  Louise  Fusil.  We  will  speak  first 
of  Mme  Domergue,  the  wife  of  the  stage- 
manager  of  the  Imperial  Theatre  at  Moscow,  and 
her  friend  Mme  Verteuil,  and  her  sister-in-law, 
Mme  Aurore  de  Bursay.  Her  husband  was  one 
of  the  forty  French  residents  whom  Rostopchin 
arrested  and  deported  to  Nijni-Novgorod  when 
Napoleon  was  about  to  enter  the  city.  He  subse- 
quently wrote  a  book  about  his  experiences— 


AURORE   DE  BURSAY  53 

a  book  to  which  his  wife  contributed  a  chapter 
giving  an  account  of  her  own  adventures  while 
she  was  separated  from  him. 

It  is  from  her  that  we  hear  of  the  sad  fate  of 
Mme  Verteuil.  A  French  officer  had  promised 
to  see  her  safely  through  her  troubles ;  but, 
somehow  or  other,  she  got  separated  from  him. 
At  Smolensk  she  tried  to  take  shelter  in  some 
building  which  a  French  sentry  had  been  set 
to  guard.  He  tried  to  stop  her  ;  but  she  would 
not  be  stopped — presumably  she  was  one  of 
those  actresses  who  believe,  in  the  pride  of 
their  talents,  that  they  can  go  anywhere  and 
do  anything  with  impunity.  But  war  breaks 
down  such  privileges ;  and  the  business  of 
sentries  is  to  act,  and  not  to  argue.  This  sentry, 
having  remonstrated  vainly,  felt  that  he  had  no 
choice  but  to  run  his  bayonet  through  Mme 
Verteuil ;  and  his  thrust  was  fatal. 

Aurore  de  Bursay  was  more  fortunate ;  and 
in  her  story  there  is  even  a  touch  of  comedy. 
She  was  in  a  carriage,  driving  under  fire  ; 
and  the  carriage  was  smashed  by  one  of  the 
Russian  cannon-balls,  though  its  occupants 
sustained  no  harm.  But  Aurore  de  Bursay  was 
a  poet  as  well  as  an  actress ;  and  the  carriage 
contained  the  manuscript  of  one  of  her  poems, 
a  little  piece  entitled  Le  bonheur  de  la  mediocrite. 
She  remembered  the  story  of  Camoens'  swim- 
ming ashore  with  the  Lusiad ;  and  her  one 
anxiety  was  to  rescue  that  manuscript  from 
the  wreck.  She  would  not  stir — she  would  not 


54  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

allow  any  one  else  to  stir — until  it  had  been 
sought  and  found.  At  last  the  search  was 
rewarded.  The  poem  was  found.  Aurore  de 
Bursay  stuffed  it  away  in  her  corsage,  and 
accomplished  the  rest  of  her  journey  on  one  of 
the  ammunition  wagons. 

Mme  Domergue  herself  had  to  take  charge, 
not  of  the  poem,  but  of  a  baby.  Ney  at  first 
got  her  a  carriage  and  handed  her  into  it ; 
but  presently  the  carriage  was  wanted  for  some 
other  purpose,  and  she  was  turned  out  of  it, 
and  then  her  sufferings  began.  How  she  could 
get  no  food  for  her  child  except  a  few  lumps  of 
sugar,  but  kept  it  alive  on  them  ;  how  a  Polish 
officer,  unable  to  help  her  otherwise,  threw  her 
a  hunk  of  bread  as  he  rode  by  ;  how  soldiers 
invited  her  to  sit  by  their  camp  fires  and  share 
their  toasted  horse-steaks, — all  this  is  set  forth 
in  her  letter.  And  then  she  tells  us  how,  by  a 
happy  chance,  when  she  was  in  despair,  and 
almost  at  her  last  gasp,  a  seat  was  once  more 
found  for  her  in  a  carriage. 

It  was  a  full  carriage  ;  and  one  of  its  occupants 
was  Mme  Antony,  the  daughter  of  Leonard, 
famous  as  the  hair-dresser  of  Marie  Antoinette. 
"  Give  me  the  child.  It  can  sit  on  my  knee," 
called  Mme  Antony  ;  and  Mme  Domergue  seized 
that  chance  of  saving  it.  Then  it  was  the  coach- 
man's turn  to  help.  His  perch  was  not  very 
comfortable ;  but  Mme  Domergue  would  be 
better  off  there  than  in  the  snow.  If  she  cared 
to  get  up,  he  would  get  down,  and  mount  the 


MME   DOMERGUE  55 

horse  instead.  It  was  duly  done  ;  and  then 
General  Laborde  happened  to  come  by,  full  of 
great  oaths,  and  moved  to  indignation.  What 
was  the  meaning  of  that  ?  he  wanted  to  know. 
A  woman  shivering  on  the  coachman's  box  ! 
Why  was  not  room  found  for  her  in  the  carriage  ? 
Surely  the  carriage  was  not  so  full  as  all  that ! 
What  load  was  it  carrying  ? 

The  principal  load,  he  was  told,  was  a  cask  of 
rum,  placed  in  it  by  the  orders  of  the  general's 
own  aides-de-camp.  No  one  in  the  carriage 
dared  to  disobey  those  orders.  And  then  the 
floodgates  of  the  general's  eloquence  were 
opened,  and  the  oaths  poured  forth  : 

"  What's  that  ?  You  were  going  to  keep  a 
cask  of  rum  in  the  carriage  and  leave  a  poor 
woman,  tired  to  death,  to  tramp  along  on  foot ! 
Blank  !  Blank  !  Blankety  blank  !  Just  you 
pitch  that  blankety  cask  out  of  the  blankety 
window.  My  aides-de-camp,  indeed  !  I'll  talk 
to  my  blankety  aides-de-camp  !  Water's  good 
enough  for  me  to  drink,  and  water  shall  be  good 
enough  for  them." 

So  out  of  window  the  cask  went,  and  Mme 
Domergue  took  its  place  ;  and  General  Laborde 
gave  her  some  of  his  own  store  of  wine,  still 
using  winged  words.  There  must  be  no  blankety 
nonsense !  She  must  drink  it — not  for  her 
own  sake,  but  for  the  child's.  He  meant  to 
save  that  child  ;  it  must  come  home  safely,  and 
grow  up,  and  be  a  soldier. 


56  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

He  saved  it ;  and  Mme  Domergue  ended  her 
journey  in  a  carriage  belonging  to  General  Rapp. 
Even  then,  though  Rapp  had  a  pack  of  hounds 
which  were  killed  and  eaten,  hound  by  hound, 
she  was  not  at  the  end  of  her  dangers  or  her 
discomforts.  The  Cossacks  were  very  near ; 
on  one  occasion  Cossacks  were  killed  with  their 
hands  thrust  through  the  carriage  window 
for  the  purpose  of  plundering  her.  Still,  she 
won  through.  Rapp,  on  parting  from  her  at 
Vilna,  gave  her  five  louis  for  current  expenses  ; 
Mortier,  at  the  same  time,  handed  her  ten  louis. 
The  money  enabled  her  to  buy  what  she  needed 
during  the  fever  which  laid  her  up  at  Vilna  ; 
and  when  she  recovered,  she  supported  herself 
as  a  needlewoman  until  the  day  when  the 
release  of  Rostopchin's  prisoners  enabled  her 
husband  to  rejoin  her. 

There  we  will  leave  her  while  we  turn  to  the 
story  of  Louise  Fusil,  who  in  the  later  years  of 
the  reign  of  Louis-Philippe  was  still  haunting 
the  foyer  of  the  Comedie  Frangaise,  and  telling 
all  who  cared  to  listen  to  her  how  she  had 
crossed  the  Beresina  with  Napoleon.  In  her 
case,  thanks  to  her  Souvenirs  d'une  femme  sur 
la  retraite  de  Russie,  we  have  no  loose  bundle  of 
anecdotes,  but  the  full  story  of  a  life. 


CHAPTER   VI 

Louise  Fusil  of  the  Moscow  Theatre — Her  performance  before 
Napoleon  during  the  occupation — Her  return  with  the  Grande 
Armee — Her  narrow  escape  from  death — Her  adoption  of  a 
foundling — Nadeje,  the  Orphan  of  Vilna — Her  dramatic  talents 
and  untimely  death. 

LOUISE  FUSIL  was,  in  the  French  idiom,  enfant 
de  la  balle  ;  not  only  the  daughter,  but  also 
the  granddaughter,  of  comedians.  Her  maiden 
name  was  Fleury ;  she  was  born  at  Stuttgart, 
in  1774,  and  was  brought  up  at  Metz  by  her 
grandfather,  once  "  le  beau  Fleury "  of  the 
Comedie  Frangaise,  and  her  grandmother,  nee 
Clavel.  One  of  her  Clavel  cousins  was 
Mme  Saint-Huberty,  prima  donna  at  the 
Opera. 

In  1784  Mme  Saint-Huberty  visited  Metz, 
and  heard  her  cousin  sing.  Such  a  voice,  she 
said,  must  not  be  wasted  in  amateur  circles  on 
provincial  air  ;  she  herself  would  see  to  the 
training  of  it.  So,  at  the  beginning  of  1788,. 
she  carried  Louise  off  to  Paris  to  receive  finishing 
lessons  from  Piccini,  and  then  took  her  on  tour 
with  her  in  the  South  of  France.  At  Toulouse 
Louise  met  and  married  the  comedian  Fusil  ; 
but  the  comedian  became  a  soldier,  and  ulti- 

57 


58  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

mately  got  his  commission  ;  while  the  actress 
remained  an  actress  and  was  presently  admitted 
to  the  Theatre  frangais,  where  she  became  inti- 
mate with  the  Talmas. 

As  an  actress,  Louise  made  a  considerable 
reputation ;  but  she  did  not  save  money.  She 
thought  that  she  might  perhaps  fare  more 
prosperously  abroad ;  so  she  set  out  in  1806 
for  St.  Petersburg,  and  in  1807  obtained  an 
engagement  at  the  Imperial  Theatre  at  Moscow, 
where  she  soon  turned  all  heads  with  her  charm- 
ing interpretation  of  Chateaubriand's  charming 
lines  : 

Combien  j'ai  douce  souvenance 
Du  joli  lieu  de  ma  naissance ! 

She  became  the  fashion  at  Moscow.  "  My 
songs, "  she  tells  us,  "  were  all  the  rage,  and 
people  used  to  draw  pictures  to  illustrate  them 
in  their  albums."  She  was  received  as  a 
friend  of  the  family  in  the  best  houses,  and  gave 
lessons  in  singing  and  elocution  to  the  daughters 
of  the  social  leaders  ;  and  so  the  time  passed ; 
and  Louise  Fusil  was  still  at  Moscow  when  the 
war  broke  out,  and  the  news  came  that  Napo- 
leon had  crossed  the  Niemen  and  was  marching 
on  the  city. 

Being  on  the  best  of  terms  with  the  authori- 
ties, Louise  was  in  no  immediate  danger  :  there 
was  no  prospect,  for  instance,  that  she  would  be 
included  in  the  group  of  prisoners  whom  we 
have  seen  deported  to  Nijni-Novgorod.  She 


LOUISE  FUSIL  59 

applied  in  vain,  however,  for  a  passport  to  St. 
Petersburg  ;  and  she  knew  that,  if  she  ventured 
to  start  without  a  passport,  she  would  be 
refused  horses  at  the  first  post  station  she  came 
to.  So  she  had  to  stay  ;  and  that  is  how  it 
came  about  that  the  French  soldiers,  entering 
Moscow,  found  a  French  actress  ready  to  receive 
them — an  actress  who  introduced  herself  by 
thrusting  her  head  out  of  a  window,  and  calling 
to  a  dragoon  :  "  Mr.  Soldier  !  Mr.  Soldier  ! 
You're  a  French  soldier,  aren't  you  ?  I'm 
French  too." 

They  were  delighted  to  make  her  acquaint- 
ance ;  the  rigours  of  the  occupation  troubled 
her  very  little.  It  was  no  distress  to  her,  for 
instance,  that  French  officers  were  billeted 
in  the  house.  She  welcomed  them  as  her 
protectors ;  they  treated  her  with  flattering 
consideration ;  and  it  was  arranged,  with 
Napoleon's  approval,  that  she  should  organise 
a  theatrical  entertainment. 

A  hall  was  found  in  a  deserted  palace  which 
the  conflagration  had  spared,  and  a  company 
was  got  together.  Mme  Aurore  de  Bursay, 
whom  we  have  already  met,  acted  as  stage 
manager,  and  the  band  of  the  Guards  provided 
the  orchestra.  The  performances  were  con- 
tinued daily  until  the  very  eve  of  the  retreat  ; 
and  Louise  brought  down  the  house  with  a 
sentimental  ballad  of  the  style  then  in  vogue, 
applauded  and  encored,  she  assures  us,  by  the 
Emperor  himself  : 


60  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

Un  chevalier  qui  volait  au  combat, 

Par  ses  adieus  consolait  son  amie  : 

"  Au  champ  d'honneur  1'amour  guide  mes  pas, 

Anne  mon  bras ;   ne  crains  rien  pour  ma  vie." 


But  then  came  the  sudden  decision  to  retire. 
The  actresses  were  told  that  they  might  stay 
where  they  were  or  accompany  the  retreating 
army  as  they  preferred ;  but  none  of  them 
dared  to  remain  behind.  The  weather  was  still 
splendid ;  and  those  of  them  who  could  get 
carriages  expected  a  pleasant,  and  not  par- 
ticularly adventurous,  journey.  Louise  got  a 
carriage  ;  and  her  journey  was  not  particularly 
eventful  until  she  reached  Smolensk  ;  but  there 
began  the  accumulation  of  horror  upon  horror's 
head. 

There  was  a  narrow  bridge  to  be  crossed  there, 
and  Louise's  horses  broke  down  in  the  middle 
of  it,  so  that  her  carriage  blocked  the  way. 
The  order  was  formal  that  any  carriage  which 
blocked  the  way  was  to  be  burnt ;  and  the 
soldiers  liked  burning  carriages  because  it  gave 
them  a  splendid  opportunity  for  pillaging.  But 
an  officer  came  to  the  rescue.  "  One  moment/' 
he  said.  "  I  think  I  can  get  you  by.  I'll  do 
my  best  "  ;  and  he  gave  his  order  :  "  Soldiers, 
to  the  wheels  of  that  carriage  and  push  it !  " 
They  pushed,  and  got  her  across  ;  and  presently 
she  knew  why  she  had  been  helped.  The  officer 
who  had  come  to  her  assistance  had  mistaken 
her  for  the  wife  of  one  of  the  generals  ;  and  he 
now  begged  her  to  bring  his  name  before  her 


LOUISE  FUSIL  61 

husband's  notice  as  that  of  a  suitable  candi- 
date for  promotion.  She  promised  to  do  so,  and 
drove  on. 

At  Smolensk  Louise  was  able  to  take  a  days' 
rest ;  but  her  hardships  were  only  beginning. 
It  was  not  long  before  she  had  to  abandon  her 
carriage  and  all  its  contents,  and  trudge  through 
the  snow  with  the  rearguard,  with  the  know- 
ledge that  hordes  of  Cossacks  were  hovering 
near,  awaiting  their  chance  to  swoop.  She 
managed  to  get  another  horse,  taken  from  the 
shafts  of  another  carriage  which  had  collapsed  ; 
but  the  horse  broke  down  and  she  once  more 
had  to  walk.  She  walked  all  night,  struggling 
to  get  to  Krasnoe,  having  heard  that  the 
Emperor  and  his  staff  were  there,  and  expecting 
that  one  of  her  friends  would  help  her.  But 
the  Emperor  and  his  staff  had  already  left 
Krasnoe  when  she  got  there.  "  Then  there  is 
nothing  for  it,"  she  said  to  the  gendarme  who 
was  helping  her  along,  "  except  to  lie  down  and 
die.  I  haven't  the  strength  to  walk  another 
step."  What  followed  was  what  one  expects 
to  follow  in  a  sensational  serial  story  : 

"  I  felt  that  the  cold  was  freezing  my  very 
blood.  People  say  that  it  is  a  pleasant  way  of 
dying,  and  I  can  well  believe  them.  I  heard 
voices  in  my  ear  :  '  You  mustn't  stop  here  ; 
get  up  !  '  I  felt  some  one  shaking  my  arm, 
and  I  did  not  like  it.  I  had  a  delightful  sensa- 
tion of  falling  into  a  deep  and  peaceful  sleep. 


62  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

In  the  end  I  heard  nothing  more,  and  completely 
lost  consciousness.  When  I  came  to  myself 
again  I  was  in  a  peasant's  cottage.  They  had 
wrapped  me  in  furs,  and  some  one  was  holding 
my  arm  and  feeling  my  pulse  ;  it  was  Baron 
Desgenettes.  A  group  of  men  stood  round  my 
bed,  and  I  thought  I  was  waking  from  a  dream  ; 
but  I  was  so  weak  that  I  could  not  move.  I 
scrutinised  the  various  uniforms.  General 
Burmann,  whom  I  did  not  then  know,  was 
looking  at  me  with  interest.  Old  Marshal 
Lefebvre  came  up  and  said  to  me  :  '  Well,  how 
are  you  getting  on  ?  You've  come  to  life  again, 
you  see.' 

"  I  learnt  that  they  had  picked  me  up  in  the 
snow.  At  first  they  were  going  to  put  me  close 
up  to  a  blazing  fire,  but  Baron  Desgenettes 
had  stopped  them,  exclaiming  :  '  Be  careful ! 
You'll  kill  her  if  you  do  that.  Wrap  her  up  in 
all  the  furs  that  you  can  find,  and  place  her  in 
a  room  without  a  fire  !  J 

"  For  a  long  time  I  lay  where  I  was.  When  I 
began  to  recover  a  little  warmth,  the  Marshal 
brought  me  a  large  bowl  of  very  strong  coffee. 
It  stimulated  me,  and  set  my  blood  circulating 
once  again.  '  Keep  the  bowl !  '  said  the 
Marshal.  '  It  will  be  an  historical  relic  in  your 
family — if  you  ever  see  them  again/  he  added 
beneath  his  breath. " 

Nor  did  the  Marshal's  active  interest  cease 
when  Louise  had  drunk  the  coffee ;  he  put  her 


LOUISE  FUSIL  63 

in  his  own  carriage,  just  as  General  Rapp  had 
put  Mme  Domergue  in  one  of  his  carriages. 
She  crossed  the  Beresina  in  it,  passing  close  to 
Napoleon  himself,  who  called  to  her  not  to  be 
frightened,  and  to  the  King  of  Naples,  who  paid 
her  a  compliment  as  she  passed.  When  she  was 
across,  Marshal  Lefebvre's  son,  General  Lefebvre, 
gave  her  his  arm  ;  she  was  leaning  on  it,  and 
looking  back,  when  she  saw  the  bridge  break. 

And  so  to  Vilna,  where  Louise  had  her 
opportunity  of  rendering  a  service  in  return  for 
the  services  which  had  been  rendered  to  her. 
General  Lefebvre  had  been  wounded,  and  could 
not  be  moved ;  his  father,  the  Marshal,  was  in 
despair.  He  had  written  to  the  Russian  general 
who  was  about  to  enter  Vilna,  making  an  appeal 
to  the  chivalry  of  a  generous  foe  ;  but  he  could 
hardly  trust  the  enemy  to  provide  his  son  with 
a  nurse.  It  was  Louise's  chance.  "  I  will  stay 
with  him,  Marshal,"  she  said.  "  I  promise  you 
that  I  will  look  after  him  like  a  mother.'*  And 
she  kept  her  word,  though  Cossacks  came  to 
raid  the  bed-chamber  : 

'  They  came  up  to  the  general's  bed,  and 
threatened  him,  saying  in  Russian  :  '  Give  us 
money  !  '  I  then  unfastened  from  my  neck  a . 
little  image  of  the  Virgin  of  Kief  which  Princess 
Kutusof  had  given  me,  while  I  was  in  Russia, 
as  a  safeguard  against  ill-luck,  and  now  it  served 
its  purpose.  I  laid  it  on  the  general's  bed, 
saying :  '  How  dare  you  molest  a  dying  man ! 


64  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

You  may  be  sure  that  God  will  punish  you/ 
The  Russians  are  great  worshippers  of  icons, 
especially  of  that  of  the  Virgin  of  Kief  ;  so  that 
my  presence  of  mind  saved  us,  though  the  shock 
to  my  poor  patient  gave  his  illness  a  bad  turn.'' 

He  got  worse  and  worse,  in  fact,  and  died 
in  the  early  morning  of  December  19,  1812, 
after  whispering  his  last  injunctions  to  his 
nurse : 

"  No  doubt  you  will  get  back  to  France," 
he  murmured;  "they  don't  detain  the  women. 
Cut  off  a  lock  of  my  hair — now — you  may  be 
afraid  to  do  it  after  I  am  dead.  Take  it  to  my 
parents  and  tell  them  that  I  entrust  you  to  their 
care.  I  would  write  to  my  mother  about  it  if 
I  had  the  strength.  You  have  lost  everything,  I 
know  ;  but  she  is  rich,  and  she  will  not  forget 
to  reward  you  for  your  devotion.'1 

Then  the  end  came,  and  Louise  had  to  think 
about  herself.  She  had  no  money,  and  no  means 
of  earning  any  ;  but  she  found  friends  who 
looked  after  her  while  she  continued  to  look  after 
the  wounded.  The  Russians,  as  we  have  seen, 
knew  her ;  and  she  consequently  had  nothing 
to  fear  from  them.  And  presently— surprise 
of  surprises! — a  -Russian  officer  brought  her  a 
French  baby  :  a  little  girl  just  old  enough  to 
speak.  He  had  picked  it  up  in  the  snow 
and  wrapped  it  up  in  his  cloak.  It  was  difficult 
for  him  to  take  charge  of  it — would  Louise  do 
so  ? 


LOUISE  FUSIL  65 

She  said  that  she  would,  for  the  time  being 
at  all  events  ;  and  she  went  to  see  Kutusof  and 
tell  him  what  had  happened.  While  she  was 
waiting  for  him  in  his  antechamber  she  picked 
up  a  volume  of  French  poetry,  and  read  these 
lines  : 


Enfan£on  malheure 
M'est  assurance, 
Que  Dieu  n' envoi  e 
Pour  6tre  ton  pavois. 


It  seemed  like  an  omen  to  Kutusof  as  well  as 
to  Louise.  She  must  be  the  child's  mother,  he 
said,  and  he  would  be  its  godfather.  It  should 
be  called  Nadeje — a  Russian  word  meaning  Fate. 
It  must  go  back  to  France,  and  he  would  supply 
the  necessary  roubles  for  the  expenses  of  the 
journey. 

So  Nadeje  was  adopted,  and  grew  up  to  be 
famous,  not  only  as  the  Orphan  of  Vilna,  but 
also  as  an  actress  of  some  distinction  and  still 
greater  promise.  She  made  her  debut  at  the 
Comedie  Franchise  at  the  age  of  fifteen,  but 
died  of  consumption  at  twenty.  One  cannot 
end  her  story  better  than  by  quoting  the  lines 
which  Mme  Desbordes-Valmore — herself  an 
actress  before  she  became  a  poet — consecrated 
to  her  memory  : 

Elle  est  aux  cieux,  la  douce  fleur  des  neiges, 
Elle  se  fond  aux  bords  de  son  printemps. 
Voit-on  mourir  d'aussi  jeunes  instants  ! 
Mais  ils  suffraient,  mon  Dieu  !    tu  les  abr£ges. 


66  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

Son  sort  a  mis  des  pleurs  dans  tous  les  yeux, 
C'etait,  je  crois,  1'aureole  d'un  ange 
Tombee  a  1'ombre  et  regrettee  aux  cieux; 
D'un  peu  de  vie,  oh  !    que  la  mort  se  venge 

Fleur  derobee  au  front  d'un  seraphin, 
Reprends  ton  rang,  avec  un  saint  myst£re; 
Et  ce  fil  d'or,  dont  nous  pleurons  la  fin, 
Va  Pattacher  autre  part  qu'a  la  terre  ! 


CHAPTER   VII 

Deborah  —  Boadicea  —  Genevi£ve  —  Fredegonde  —  Hermangarde — 
Julienne  de  Breteuil — Eleanor  of  Guienne — Guirande  de  Lavaur 
— Jeanne  de  Montfort. 

THERE  was  Deborah — "  a  mother  in  Israel "  ; 
and  there  was  Jael,  the  wife  of  Heber  the  Kenite, 
—"  blessed  among  women."  But  that  Bible 
story  is  too  well  told  to  be  repeated  in  a  modern 
book  ;  and  though  the  exploit  of  Jael  has  the 
sanction  of  Deborah's  song — which  is,  perhaps, 
for  sheer  poetry,  the  greatest  war-song  ever 
written  by  a  woman — it  has  to  be  classed  with 
methods  of  warfare  which  the  civilised  world 
has  outgrown.1  Yet  Deborah,  one  must  pause 
to  note,  was  a  poet  of  war  who  had  vision  as 
well  as  enthusiasm,  and  saw  the  suffering  of 
war  as  well  as  its  triumphs  : 

"  The  mother  of  Sisera  looked  out  at  a  window 
and  cried  through  the  lattice  :  '  Why  is  his 
chariot  so  long  in  coming  ?  Why  tarry  the 
wheels  of  his  chariots  ?  '  " 

The  feminine  note,  if  one  is  looking  for  it, 
may  surely  be  found  in  that  verse. 

One  comes  next  to  Boadicea ;    and  of  course 

1  Or  so  one  thought  before  one  knew  what  the  Germans 
were  capable  of. 

67 


68  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

all  the  world  is  familiar  with  Cowper's  famous 
lines  : 

When  the  British  warrior  Queen, 

Bleeding  from  the  Roman  rods, 
Sought  with  an  indignant  mien 

Counsel  of  her  country's  gods.  .  .  . 

And  the  Druid's  prophetic  response  : 

Rome  shall  perish,— write  that  word 

In  the  blood  that  she  has  spilt ; 
Perish,  hopeless  and  abhorred, 

Deep  in  ruin  as  in  guilt. 

Rome,  for  Empire  far  renowned, 
Tramples  on  a  thousand  States  : 

Soon  her  pride  shall  kiss  the  ground, — 
Hark  !    the  Gaul  is  at  the  gates  ! 

But  when  one  turns  from  poetry  to  history 
one  finds  that  the  authentic  facts  about  Boadicea 
are  very  few.  She  was  Queen  of  the  Iceni, 
the  widow  of  Prasutagus,  an  independent  British 
prince  who  had  acknowledged  the  Roman 
suzerainty,  and  she  was  scourged  by  the  Romans 
for  resisting  their  attempt  to  incorporate  her 
principality  in  their  dominions.  Half  Britain 
took  up  arms  in  indignation ;  though  Britain 
had  also  the  further  grievance  that  Seneca— 
the  eminent  Roman  who  doubled  the  parts  of 
philosopher  and  money-lender — had  suddenly 
called  in  his  loans.  In  the  fighting  which  en- 
sued St.  Albans  and  Colchester  were  burnt,  and 
70,000  Romans  and  "  friendlies  "  were  killed. 
The  Romans  recovered  their  ground  in  a  battle 
which  is  believed  to  have  been  fought  in  Watling 


FREDEGONDE  69 

Street ;  but,  even  so,  there  was  a  long  guerilla 
war  before  peace  was  finally  restored.  That  is 
all ;  it  is  quite  impossible  to  add  any  of  those 
little  details  which  endow  portraits  with  veri- 
similitude. 

In  the  case,  too,  of  the  early  women  warriors 
of  France  a  few  bare  facts  have  to  suffice. 
The  women  of  Gaul  took  part  in  the  righting 
against  Caesar  in  61  B.C.  ;  but  the  particulars  of 
their  prowess  have  been  lost  for  lack  of  a  sacred 
bard.  Genevieve  fought  against  Attila  in 
A.D.  451  ;  but  that  bald  statement  cannot  be 
amplified.  In  the  case  of  Fredegonde,  who 
fought  against  the  Austro-Burgundians  and 
reconstituted  the  kingdom  of  Neustria  in  593, 
one  is  able  to  add  just  one  interesting  detail : 
Fredegonde  rode  at  the  head  of  her  army, 
carrying  her  child  Clotaire  in  her  arms.  There 
follow  on  our  list  Hermangarde,  the  great-grand- 
daughter of  Charlemagne,  who  defended  the 
town  of  Vienne  for  two  years  against  Boson 
Comte  d'Autun,  and  Richilde,  wife  of  Baudouin 
VI,  Comte  de  Flandres,  who  allied  herself  with 
Philip  I  of  France,  and  went  campaigning  against 
her  own  husband  ;  and  then  we  come  to  Julienne 
de  Breteuil. 

Julienne  was  the  natural  daughter  of  Henry. I 
of  England,  and  her  husband  was  Eustache  de 
Breteuil.  She  fought  for  her  husband  against 
her  father,  stood  a  siege,  and  formed  a  plot  for 
taking  her  father  prisoner  at  an  interview 
arranged  for  the  purpose  of  negotiating  terms 


70  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

of  surrender.  How  her  plot  failed,  to  her  great 
personal  discomfiture,  is  set  forth  by  the  chroni- 
cler Orderic  Vital  : 

"  The  King/'  writes  Orderic,  "  never  imagin- 
ing that  a  woman  could  be  capable  of  such  base 
trickery,  came  to  the  conference  at  which  his 
wretched  daughter  proposed  to  compass  his 
destruction.  She  aimed  an  arrow  at  her  father 
from  a  ballista ;  but,  by  the  special  grace  of  God, 
she  failed  to  hit  him.  Then  Henry  instantly 
caused  the  castle  bridge  to  be  broken  down,  so 
as  to  cut  her  communications  with  it.  Julienne, 
seeing  that  she  was  surrounded,  and  that  there 
was  no  chance  of  her  being  rescued,  surrendered 
the  castle  to  Henry ;  but  she  could  not  obtain 
his  permission  to  depart  from  it  in  peace/' 

On  the  contrary,  he  put  her  to  great  incon- 
venience : 

"  By  his  orders  she  was  required  to  slide  down 
from  the  top  of  the  wall,  without  the  help  of  a 
bridge  or  any  kind  of  support ;  and  she  de- 
scended in  this  disgraceful  manner,  displaying 
her  undraped  limbs  to  the  whole  army.  The 
incident  occurred  at  the  beginning  of  Lent,  in  the 
third  week  of  February,  so  that  the  cold  water 
of  the  moat  gave  the  delicate  princess  a  chill 
when  she  fell  into  it ;  and  the  discomfited  warrior 
got  out  as  well  as  she  could,  and  made  the  best  of 
her  way  to  join  her  husband  at  Paci-sur-Eure." 

Evidently  Henry  I  thought  that  war  was  not 


MARGUERITE  DE  PROVENCE       71 

woman's  sphere,  and  was  resolved  to  give  his 
daughter  a  lesson  to  that  effect.  Yet  women 
warriors  did  not  cease — there  were  women  who 
fought  in  the  Crusades.  Eleanor  of  Guienne, 
for  instance,  the  wife  successively  of  Louis  VII 
of  France  and  Henry  II  of  England,  accompanied 
her  first  husband  to  the  Crusades ;  but  there 
is  not  much  to  be  said  in  praise  of  her.  Her 
first  husband  repudiated  her  for  infidelity,  and 
her  second  husband  found  her  so  disagreeable  a 
companion  that  he  sent  her  to  a  convent,  where 
she  remained  until  Richard  Cceur  de  Lion  re- 
leased her.  We  will  leave  her,  and  pass  on  to 
Marguerite  de  Provence. 

She  was  the  wife  of  Louis  IX,  generally  called 
Saint  Louis  :  she  crossed  the  seas  with  him, 
and  was  in  Damietta  during  the  siege.  One  has 
a  glimpse  at  her  in  a  chronicler's  record  of  a 
conversation  which  she  held  with  an  officer  in 
her  army  : 

11  Swear  to  me,  sir,  that  you  will  grant  me  the 
favour  which  I  am  about  to  ask  of  you/' 

"  Speak,  madam;  I  swear  that  I  will  do 
what  you  desire  if  it  is  in  accordance  with  my 
duty." 

"  Swear,  then,  that,  if  the  Mussulmans  get 
into  the  town,  you  will  cut  off  my  head." 

"  That  will  I,  madam,  and  right  willingly; 
I  had  already  thought  of  doing  so." 

There  was  another  woman  Crusader,  known 
as  La  dame  aux  bottes  d'or,  on  account  of  the 


72  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

magnificence  of  her  uniform,  who  commanded  a 
company  of  women  during  the  Second  Crusade  ; 
and  we  have  an  account  written  by  a  woman— 
the  sister  of  a  monk — of  her  experiences  on  the 
ramparts  of  Jerusalem  during  Saladin's  siege 
of  the  Holy  City  : 

"  I  discharged,  as  far  as  possible,  the  duties 
which  appertain  to  a  soldier.  I  wore  a  helmet, 
like  a  man ;  or,  at  any  rate,  I  walked  on  the 
ramparts,  wearing  on  my  head  a  metal  dish 
which  did  as  well  as  a  helmet.  Woman  though 
I  was,  I  had  all  the  appearance  of  a  warrior.  I 
slung  stones  at  the  enemy  ;  and,  though  I  was 
sorely  frightened,  I  learnt  how  to  conceal  my 
fears.  It  was  very  hot ;  and  the  combatants 
had  never  a  moment  to  rest.  I  brought  out 
water  to  the  fatigued  soldiers  on  the  walls ; 
and  once  a  big  stone,  as  big  as  a  mill-stone, 
fell  quite  close  to  me,  and  I  was  hit  by  one  of 
the  fragments." 

And  still  they  come.  In  1211,  Guirande  de 
Lavaur  defended  the  castle  of  Lavaur  against 
the  Bishops  of  Toulouse,  Lisieux,  and  Bayeux, 
who  had  that  redoubtable  warrior,  Simon  de 
Montfort,  to  command  their  forces.  Simon  was 
so  furious  at  her  stubborn  resistance  that  when, 
at  last,  she  surrendered,  he  threw  her  down  the 
castle  well,  and  had  the  well  filled  up  with 
stones.  In  1343  Jeanne  de  Belleville,  widow 
of  Amaury  de  Clisson,  whose  head  Philip  of 
France  had  cut  off,  swore  to  avenge  her  husband, 


JULIENNE   DU  GUESCLIN  73 

and  appealed  for  help  to  Edward  III  of  England  : 
he  gave  her  three  ships,  and  she  became  a  pirate 
and  harried  the  French  coasts.  In  1370 
Julienne  du  Guesclin,  a  sister  of  the  famous 
Constable  du  Guesclin,  and  a  nun,  at  Ponterson 
in  Brittany,  helped  to  defend  her  convent  against 
the  English  Captain  Felton.  With  her  own 
hand  she  hurled  three  Englishmen  down  their 
scaling-ladders,  and  the  rest  retired.  The  next 
day  the  Constable  du  Guesclin  arrived  and  took 
Felton  prisoner ;  and  the  Constable's  wife, 
seeing  what  had  happened,  mocked  at  the  un- 
fortunate soldier  : 

"  Aha  !  my  brave  Felton  !  "  she  exclaimed. 
"  So  here  you  are  again  !  A  nice  experience 
this,  for  a  gallant  soldier  like  you  to  be  beaten 
twice  within  the  same  twenty-four  hours — first 
by  the  sister,  and  then  by  the  brother  !  " 

And  then  there  was  Jeanne  de  Montfort : 
the  most  famous  of  all  the  woman  warriors 
before  Jeanne  d'Arc — she  of  whom  Froissart 
has  written  that  "  she  had  a  man's  courage  and 
a  lion's  heart."  Hers  is  a  story  which  it  is 
possible  to  tell  at  greater  length  than  those  of 
some  of  the  others. 

The  trouble  arose  out  of  a  dispute  as  to  the 
succession  to  the  dukedom  of  Brittany,  not  yet 
an  integral  part  of  the  kingdom  of  France. 
The  two  claimants  were  Jean  de  Montfort,  whose 
wife  was  our  heroine,  and  Charles  de  Blois  who 
claimed  through  his  wife,  Jeanne  de  Penthievre ; 


74  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

there  is  no  need  to  confuse  counsel  by  any 
attempt  to  decide  which  of  them  was  in  the 
right.  It  was  Jeanne  who  urged  Jean  to  assert 
himself ;  and  he  promised  to  do  so.  "  If  I 
live,  madam/1  he  said,  "  you  shall  be  Duchess 
of  Brittany  "  ;  and  he  caused  himself  to  be 
proclaimed  Duke  by  the  citizens  of  Nantes,  and 
seized  the  fortresses  of  Rennes,  Hennebon,  and 
d'Auray. 

His  rival  appealed  to  the  King  of  France, 
as  his  liege  lord ;  and  the  King  of  France 
decided  in  his  rival's  favour  ;  but  Jean  de 
Montfort  declined  to  accept  the  decision.  He 
appealed  for  help  to  Edward  III,  pointing  out 
to  him  that  Brittany  would  be  "  the  finest 
possible  entrance  gate  for  invading  and  con- 
quering the  kingdom  of  France."  Then  the 
fighting  began.  Nantes  was  betrayed  to  the 
enemy,  and  Jean  de  Montfort  was  taken  prisoner. 
That  was  the  disaster  which  made  Jeanne  a 
fighting  woman.  "  A  new  Penthesilea,"  writes 
the  historian  Roujoux,  "  now  arises  in  the  midst 
of  Brittany,  with  all  the  grandeur  of  a  noble 
and  generous  character;  and  a  mother's  love 
once  more  worked  miracles. " 

While  Jean  had  been  defending  Nantes  Jeanne 
had  been  at  Rennes ;  and  now  she  issued  a  mani- 
festo. Her  heart,  she  said,  was  "  deeply  grieved 
at  the  news  that  her  lord  was  taken  "  ;  but  she 
continued  :  "  Nevertheless,  my  lords,  be  not 
discouraged.  It  is  but  a  single  man  that  we 
have  lost.  Here  is  his  son  and  heir,  who,  if  it 


JEANNE   DE   PENTHIEVRE          75 

be  God's  will,  shall  restore  him  to  his  rights." 
And  then  she  went  from  stronghold  to  strong- 
hold, repeating  the  appeal : 

"  Do  not  desert  him  who  places  his  trust, 
next  to  God,  in  you  and  your  loyalty.  I  place 
under  your  tutelage  his  heir,  who  will  grow  up 
to  be  great  and  good,  and  will  take  his  father's 
place  in  the  war  against  the  enemies  who,  at 
the  present  hour,  are  in  occupation  of  his  lands. " 

That  was  her  answer  to  Charles  de  Blois,  who 
bade  her  "  go  back  to  her  spinning-wheel "  ; 
one  finds  the  feminine  note  in  it  as  surely  as  in 
Deborah's  song.  And  presently  we  find  her 
standing  siege  in  her  castle  of  Hennebon,  and 
inspiring  even  the  maid-servants  to  help  in  the 
defence.  "  Mere  girls,"  we  read,  "  were  em- 
ployed in  digging  up  the  paving-stones  in  the 
castle  yard,  and  carrying  them  to  the  battle- 
ments, to  be  hurled  thence  on  to  the  heads  of 
the  assailants,  together  with  fireballs  and  quick- 
lime." And  Jeanne  herself  headed  a  sortie, 
and  fired  the  enemy's  camp,  at  the  very  time 
when  they  were  trying  to  batter  down  the  main 
gate. 

Her  retreat  was  cut  off ;  but  she  fought  her 
way  to  d' Auray,  and  thence  fought  her  way  back 
to  Hennebon,  where,  a  few  days  later,  an  Eng- 
lish contingent  arrived  by  sea  for  her  relief. 
There  followed  a  raid  on  the  besiegers'  battering 
rams,  in  which  a  certain  Messire  Gauthier  so 
distinguished  himself  that  Jeanne,  as  Froissart 


76  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

assures  us — "  kissed  him  two  or  three  times, 
like  the  valiant  lady  that  she  was."  Then 
the  siege  was  raised ;  and  Jeanne,  after  dis- 
tinguishing herself  on  land,  distinguished  herself 
equally  on  sea.  In  a  naval  battle,  fought  off 
the  coast  of  Guernsey,  "  she  had" — we  are 
still  quoting  Froissart — "  a  very  sharp  sword 
in  her  hand  and  fought  with  great  courage." 

The  issue  of  that  engagement  was  doubtful, 
however,  and  the  war  continued.  Jean  de 
Montfort  escaped  from  his  captivity  and  re- 
joined his  wife,  but  only  to  die.  Charles  de 
Blois  was  taken  prisoner  by  the  English ;  but 
his  wife,  Jeanne  de  Penthievre — a.  woman  of  a 
courage  hardly  less  than  that  of  her  antagonist 
— took  the  field  on  his  behalf.  Each  of  them, 
as  we  see,  was  fighting  for  what  she  regarded 
as  the  rightful  inheritance  of  her  child.  Their 
little  war  proceeded  simultaneously  with  that 
great  war  between  France  and  England  which 
included  the  battle  of  Poitiers.  It  raged  so 
long  that  Jeanne  de  Montfort's  child  grew  up 
before  it  was  concluded,  and  took  his  mother's 
place  as  Commander-in-Chief  of  his  partisans. 

At  last  it  was  ended  by  the  battle  of  d'Auray, 
where  du  Guesclin  was  taken  prisoner  and 
Charles  de  Blois  was  killed  ;  and  then,  in  1365, 
the  Treaty  of  Guerande  was  .signed.  Charles 
of  France,  the  chronicler  tells  us,  "was  very 
angry,  for  his  discomfiture  touched  him  to  the 
quick "  ;  but  he  nevertheless  gave  Jean  de 
Montfort  and  his  adherents  letters  of  pardon, 


JEANNE  DE  PENTHIEVRE          77 

for  having  "  made  war  against  the  King  without 
any  adequate  reason/'  and  took  into  his  service 
as  many  of  them  as  cared  to  join  it.  But 
Jeanne  de  Montfort  was,  by  this  time,  dead. 

Assuredly  she  had  shone  in  war,  albeit  only 
in  a  private  war.  We  shall  speak  next  of 
women  who  have  been  leaders  in  wars  which 
have  involved  greater  and  deeper  issues. 


CHAPTER    VIII 

Matilda  of  Tuscany — How  she  brought  the  Emperor  to  Canossa — 
Jeanne  d'Arc — The  state  of  France  during  her  childhood — 
Voices  and  visions — Her  interview  with  Robert  de  Baudricourt 
— Summoned  to  the  King  at  Chinon — Inquiries  of  the  eccle- 
siastics into  her  bona  fides — The  examiners  satisfied  and  the 
Maid  launched  upon  her  mission. 

A  GREAT  name,  to  which  only  a  brief  space  can 
be  given,  is  that  of  Matilda  of  Tuscany. 

Matilda's  period  was  that  when  the  Papacy 
and  the  Holy  Roman  Empire  were  at  daggers 
drawn.  It  is  a  long  story ;  but  one  can  give 
the  essence  of  it  in  a  sentence.  Hildebrand,  the 
monk  of  Cluny  who  had  become  Pope  Gregory 
VII,  prohibited  the  imperial  investitures  ;  the 
Emperor  Henry  IV  replied  by  deposing  the 
Pope  ;  the  Pope  rejoined  by  excommunicating 
the  Emperor — and  excommunication  was  not, 
in  those  days,  a  thing  to  be  treated  slightly  or 
laughed  at.  Many  imperial  feudatories  took  up 
arms  and  signified  to  the  Emperor  that  he  could 
be  Emperor  no  longer  unless  he  abased  himself 
to  the  point  of  pleading  for  absolution.  Matilda 
was  one  of  those  who  went  to  war  to  that  end  ; 
and  her  castle  at  Canossa  was  the  scene  of  the 
crowning  act  of  the  drama. 

The  scene  has  often  been  described.  There 

78 


MATILDA  OF  TUSCANY  79 

could  be  no  question  of  the  Pope's  going  to  the 
Emperor — the  Emperor  had  to  come  to  the 
Pope.  He  had  to  cross  the  Alps  in  the  dead 
of  winter,  and  then  to  await  the  Pope's  con- 
venience. For  three  days  the  Pope  kept  him 
waiting  in  the  courtyard — standing  bare- 
footed in  the  snow — a  miserable  penitential 
figure  ;  and,  in  the  end,  he  had  to  implore 
Matilda  to  intercede  for  him  : 

"  Unless  you  come  to  my  help,  I  shall  break 
down  no  more  bucklers.  The  Pope  has  laid  his 
curse  on  me,  and  my  strong  right  arm  is  withered. 
Obtain  absolution  for  me,  my  cousin ;  go  and 
obtain  it  quickly." 

She  interceded ;  and  the  Pope  absolved  the 
Emperor,  albeit  in  severe  and  bitter  words 
which  cut  him  like  a  lash.  The  Emperor  went 
away,  apparently  penitent,  only  to  try  to  entrap 
the  Pope  in  an  ambush;  but  Matilda — "the 
lady  with  the  hundred  eyes  " — as  a  contem- 
porary styled  her — scented  the  danger  and  kept 
the  Pope  out  of  it.  That  was  the  great  event 
which  has  made  "  going  to  Canossa  "  a  sym- 
bolic phrase  for  the  submission  of  secular  to 
ecclesiastical  authority.  To  follow  up  its  con- 
sequences would  take  us  far  astray  from  our 
subject ;  and  a  more  famous  name  awaits  us — 
that  of  the  Maid  of  France. 

The  air  is,  of  course,  in  the  case  of  Jeanne 
d'Arc,  thick  with  controversy.  Was  she,  in 
very  truth,  inspired  by  God,  or  did  she  only 


8o  WOMEN   IN    WAR 

think  that  she  was  inspired  ?  Did  she  hear 
real  voices — the  promptings  of  saints  or  angels 
— or  was  she  the  victim  of  hallucinations  ? 
Did  she  herself  devise  a  great  scheme  for  the 
deliverance  of  France,  or  was  she  merely  a 
tool  in  the  hands  of  clever  men  who  exploited 
her  in  order  to  fan  the  flames  of  French  fanati- 
cism ?  Did  she  succeed  in  her  mission  through 
military  genius,  or  because  her  task  was  easy 
and  her  enemies  were  inefficient  ?  Such  are  a 
few  of  the  problems  which  beset  our  path  ; 
some  of  them  real  problems,  and  others,  perhaps, 
only  verbal  quibbles.  We  must  steer  our  way 
among  them  as  best  we  can,  first  clearing  the 
ground  by  explaining  "  the  great  pity  that  was 
in  France." 

France,  we  must  remember,  had  long  been 
riven  by  a  blood-feud.  On  the  one  side  were 
ranged  the  Burgundians  under  Jean  sans 
Peur ;  on  the  other  side  the  Orleanists  or 
"  Armagnacs,"  led,  after  the  murder  of  Louis 
d' Orleans,  by  Bernard,  Comte  d'Armagnac. 
In  1411  Burgundy  invoked  the  aid  of  England  ; 
and  that  was  the  beginning  of  the  war  of  which 
the  best-remembered  incident  is  the  battle  of 
Agincourt.  Henry  V,  as  we  all  know,  married 
the  daughter  of  the  King  of  France,  and  pro- 
claimed himself  his  heir  ;  while  the  Dauphin, 
presently  to  be  Charles  VII,  fled  to  Bourges. 
His  nominal  accession  dates  from  his  father's 
death,  two  months  after  the  death  of  Henry  V, 
in  October  1422  ;  but  his  was  a  kingdom  pour 


JEANNE  D'ARC  81 

rire.  He  was  not  crowned.  None,  or  hardly 
any  called  him  the  King  of  France ;  those  who 
did  not  continue  to  call  him  the  Dauphin 
spoke  of  him  derisively  as  the  King  of  Bourges. 

Meanwhile  the  wave  of  conquest  was  spread- 
ing, under  the  direction  of  John,  Duke  of  Bed- 
ford, Regent  of  France.  Roughly  speaking, 
the  English  and  Burgundians  held  France  north 
of  the  Loire,  while  the  Dauphin  was  in  posses- 
sion of  the  country  to  the  south  of  it.  There 
was  desultory  fighting  going  on  here,  there,  and 
everywhere,  and  even  where  there  were  no  armies 
marching  and  counter-marching,  there  were  free- 
booters waylaying  merchants,  burning  farms, 
and  raiding  cattle.  And  then,  in  1428,  the 
English  decided  to  force  the  line  of  the  Loire, 
and,  to  that  end,  laid  siege  to  Orleans — the 
Moscow  of  their  invasion,  though  they  did  not 
suspect  it.  That  was  "  the  great  pity  that  was 
in  France  "  in  the  days  when  the  Maid  was 
growing  up. 

She  was  born  at  Domremy  on  the  Meuse, 
apparently,  though  there  is  a  doubt  about  the 
date,  on  January  6,  1412.  Her  father,  Jean 
d'Arc,  was  poor,  but  owned  a  little  property, 
and  enjoyed  the  esteem  of  his  neighbours.  Her 
mother  had  acquired  the  name  of  Rome"e— 
perhaps,  though  that,  again,  is  not  certain, 
because  she  had  been  to  Rome  as  a  pilgrim. 
One  of  her  uncles  was  a  village  priest ;  the  others 
followed  trades.  She  herself  prayed  in  churches 
in  preference  to  dancing  in  the  fields  with  other 
6 


82  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

children ;     and   presently   she   began   to   hear 
Voices  and  to  see  Visions. 

It  would  be  absolutely  idle  to  inquire  whether 
she  actually  heard  the  Voices  or  only  fancied 
that  she  heard  them  ;  whether  she  actually  saw 
the  Visions  or  only  fancied  that  she  saw  them. 
The  distinction  between  hearing  and  fancying 
that  one  hears — seeing  and  fancying  that  one 
sees — means  nothing  except  in  relation  to 
material  sounds  and  sights,  the  normal  objects 
of  a  normal  consciousness.  One  need  no  more 
try  to  draw  it  in  the  case  of  the  Maid  of  France 
than  in  the  cases  of  Socrates  and  Bunyan.  To 
her,  as  to  them,  the  voices  were  real ;  and  she 
was  fully  persuaded  that  Saint  Michael,  Saint 
Margaret,  and  Saint  Catherine  had  appeared  to 
her.  It  was  afterwards  made  a  ground  of  eccle- 
siastical reprobation  that  she  did  not  tell  a  priest 
what  she  had  heard  and  seen ;  but  one  can 
easily  understand  why  she  did  not.  To  chil- 
dren, priests  are  apt  to  seem  like  school- 
masters— unsympathetic  persons,  prone  to  snub 
the  fanciful. 

Perhaps,  if  she  had  prattled  and  been  snubbed, 
the  Voices  and  the  Visions  would  have  ceased  : 
such  Voices  and  Visions  depend  upon  a  sensitive 
receptivity,  too  easily  destroyed  by  contact 
with  unsympathetic  common  sense.  As  it  was, 
the  consciousness  of  exceptional  communion 
with  the  unseen  gave  Jeanne  the  feeling  that 
she  was  different  from  other  girls,  and  dwelt 
in  a  different  world  from  them.  She  neglected 


JEANNE   D'ARC  83 

her  work,  as  well  as  her  play,  to  give  herself  to 
mystical  devotion,  kneeling  for  hours  together 
on  the  cold  stones  of  the  village  church.  So 
doing,  she  heard  more  Voices,  and  the  message 
of  the  Voices  became  more  and  more  specific. 

"  Jeanne,  be  a  good  girl !  "  was  all  that  they 
had  to  say  at  first ;  but  then  came  the  promise 
of  Saint  Michael  that  Saint  Margaret  and  Saint 
Catherine  should  come  to  her,  and  give  her  good 
counsel ;  and  then  came  the  injunctions  of 
these  holy  visitants  : 

"  Daughter  of  God,  you  must  leave  your 
village,  and  you  must  go  to  France  !  >: 

'  Take  the  standard  from  the  King  of  Heaven  : 
take  it  boldly,  and  God  will  help  you/' 

"  Daughter  of  God,  you  must  take  the 
Dauphin  to  Reims,  in  order  that  he  may  receive 
his  worthy  consecration  !  " 

"  Daughter  of  God,  you  must  go  to  Captain 
Robert  de  Baudricourt,  in  the  town  of  Vau- 
couleurs,  in  order  that  he  may  give  you  men-at- 
arms,  to  conduct  you  to  the  noble  Dauphin." 

And  then,  most  specific  of  all,  came  the  in- 
junction to  lead  French  troops  to  the  relief  of 
Orleans.  One  can  trace  through  the  successive 
utterances  the  gradual  formation  of  a  plan  in 
the  Maid's  mind  ;  one  can  also  trace  certain 
influences  at  work,  helping  to  form  it.  Most 
potent  of  all  was  a  certain  current  prophecy  : 
that  one  woman  should  ruin  the  kingdom  of 
France,  and  that  another  woman  should  restore 


84  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

it.  The  work  of  destruction  had  been  done  by 
the  Dauphin's  mother,  Isabeau  de  Baviere, 
who  had  signed  the  Treaty  of  Troyes,  and  given 
her  daughter  to  the  King  of  England  ;  the  world 
was  waiting  for  the  heroine  who  should  undo  the 
mischief.  The  priests  awaited  her  advent  with 
especial  eagerness ;  for  they  were  among  the 
chief  sufferers  from  the  "  great  pity." 

How  far  the  priests,  or  any  of  them,  encour- 
aged the  Maid's  idea  that  she  had  a  mission 
from  on  high  to  restore  the  Dauphin  is  uncertain 
and  disputed.  It  was,  at  any  rate,  an  accept- 
able idea,  alike  to  them  and  to  the  common 
people ;  and  it  was  unquestionably  through  the 
common  belief  in  the  current  prophecy  that 
Jeanne  was  able  to  obtain  access  to  Robert  de 
Baudricourt,  who  held  Vaucouleurs  for  the 
Dauphin.  She  appealed  to  her  cousin,  Durand 
Lassois,  to  help  her ;  and  it  was  by  him  that 
she  was  conducted  to  Vaucouleurs, — "  attired  in 
a  patched  red  gown" — and  introduced  into 
Robert  de  Baudricourt's  presence.  The  voice, 
she  said,  enabled  her  to  identify  the  Captain 
among  his  company  of  men-at-arms ;  and  she 
said  to  him  boldly  : 

"  I  come  to  you  from  my  Lord,  Messire,  in 
order  that  you  may  warn  the  Dauphin  to  be 
on  his  guard,  and  not  to  give  battle  to  his 


enemies." 


And  furthermore  : 

"  The  kingdom  belongs  not  yet,  in  fact,  to  the 


JEANNE   D'ARC  85 

Dauphin.  But  it  is  the  will  of  my  Lord  that 
the  Dauphin  shall  be  King,  and  shall  hold  the 
kingdom  as  a  trust  from  Him  ;  and  it  is  I  who 
am  to  conduct  him  to  his  coronation/1 

"  Who  is  'my  Lord1  ?"  asked  the  Captain. 
"  The  King  of  Heaven/'  replied  the  Maid.  But 
Robert  de  Baudricourt  was  a  ribald  man  to 
whom  it  seemed  incredible  that  any  woman, 
not  professedly  of  light  reputation,  should  seek 
to  consort  with  soldiers.  He  bade  her  cousin 
take  her  home  to  her  father ;  and  her  father, 
when  she  returned  to  him,  was  of  much  the 
same  opinion  as  the  Captain.  He  would  rather, 
he  said,  drown  his  daughter  in  the  Meuse  than 
let  her  follow  the  army. 

But  Jeanne's  conviction  of  her  mission  had 
grown  upon  her  ;  and  she  talked  of  it  to  all 
and  sundry.  She  stopped  a  labourer  at  his 
work,  for  instance,  in  order  to  say  to  him  : 
"  There  is  a  Maid,  between  Coussy  and  Vaucou- 
leurs,  who,  within  a  year,  will  bring  about  the 
coronation  of  the  King  of  France/ '  People 
said  that  she  was  mad,  and  pointed  to  her,  say- 
ing derisively  :  "  That  is  the  girl  who  is  going 
to  deliver  France  and  the  royal  family !  "  And 
meanwhile  the  Voices  continued  to  exhort  her, 
and  the  exhortations  became  more  and  more 
precise,  as  Jeanne  came  to  know  more  and 
more  of  the  military  situation.  After  nine 
months  she  was  received  a  second  time  by 
Robert  de  Vaucouleurs,  and  this  time  she  said 
to  him  : 


86  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

"  Know  you,  Sir  Captain,  that  God  has  several 
times  warned  me  that  I  am  to  go  to  the  noble 
Dauphin,  who  is  to  be,  and  is  now,  the  King  of 
France,  and  that  he  is  to  provide  me  with  men- 
at-arms,  and  that  I  am  to  raise  the  siege  of  Or- 
leans, and  take  him  to  be  crowned  at  Reims/' 

Robert  was  a  j  ovial,  superficial  man,  as  little 
disposed  as  ever  to  take  the  Maid  and  her  errand 
seriously ;  but  the  ceaseless  flow  of  her  pro- 
phecies was  making  its  impression  on  others, 
if  not  on  him.  It  does  not  much  matter  whether 
those  others  believed  in  her  or  merely  saw  a  way 
of  making  use  of  her.  Some  of  them,  at  any 
rate,  wrote  to  the  Dauphin  about  her  and 
aroused  his  curiosity.  He  gave  orders  that  she 
should  be  sent  to  him  at  Chinon ;  and  she  set 
out  with  a  small  escort  on  February  23,  1429. 

It  was  a  journey  of  seventy-five  leagues 
through  a  country  more  or  less  in  the  occupation 
of  the  enemy  ;  but  the  party,  being  small,  was 
unmolested  because  it  was  unobserved.  Jeanne 
rode  in  armour,  subscribed  for  by  some  of  the 
citizens  of  Vaucouleurs,  and  carried  a  sword 
given  her  by  Robert  de  Baudricourt.  To  those 
doubters  who  asked  her  whether  she  was  quite 
sure  that  she  would  carry  out  her  purpose,  she 
answered  boldly  : 

"  Have  no  fear  for  me.  That  which  I  do  I  do 
in  obedience  to  command.  My  brothers  in 
Paradise  tell  me  what  I  am  to  do.  For  four 


JEANNE   D'ARC  87 

years,  or  even  for  five,  my  brothers  in  Paradise 
and  my  Lord  have  bidden  me  go  to  war  and 
recover  the  kingdom  of  France." 

And  so,  at  the  end  of  eleven  days,  to  Chinon, 
where  Jeanne  had  to  wait  two  other  days  while 
the  Dauphin  considered  whether  she  was  a  saint 
or  a  witch.  The  question  had  to  be  sifted  by 
ecclesiastics  before  anything  further  could  be 
done ;  but,  as  the  ecclesiastics  were  divided  in 
opinion,  Charles  had  to  decide  for  himself. 
He  was  probably  helped  to  his  conclusion  by 
an  astrologer's  prediction.  ' '  Your  victory/'  the 
astrologer  had  written  to  him,  "will  lie  in  fol- 
lowing the  counsel  of  a  Maid;  pursue  your 
triumph,  without  ceasing,  to  the  walls  of  the 
town  of  Paris/'  So  the  Maid  was  introduced 
into  his  presence,  and  told  him  that  God  had 
sent  her  to  his  aid,  and  that,  if  he  would  give 
her  soldiers,  she  would  raise  the  siege  of  Orleans 
for  him. 

He  was  impressed,  but  he  was  cautious ; 
and  so  were  the  ecclesiastics.  The  mediaeval 
mind  had  its  scepticism  as  well  as  its  super- 
stitions, and  its  own  way  of  distinguishing 
between  prophetesses  and  adventuresses ;  and 
so  investigations  were  set  on  foot.  A  Board. of 
Theologians  was  deputed  to  examine  Jeanne 
in  the  articles  of  faith  and  religion.  A  special 
commission  was  despatched  to  Domremy  to 
check  her  statements  about  her  origin  and  early 
life.  Orleans,  though  its  need  was  sore,  had 


88  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

to  wait  six  weeks  while  these  inquiries  were 
pursued. 

Perhaps  it  was  the  wiser  way.  It  would  be 
easy  to  give  such  an  account  of  the  investiga- 
tions as  would  make  them  seem  trivial  and  silly. 
To  the  modern  student  of  evidence  they  prove 
nothing  except  that  Jeanne  had  always  been  a 
well-conducted  young  woman ;  and  it  did  not 
follow  that,  because  she  was  a  well-conducted 
young  woman,  she  had  the  power  to  put  the 
Dauphin's  enemies  to  confusion.  But  faith, 
as  we  know,  moves  mountains ;  and  it  was 
necessary,  not  only  that  the  Maid  should  have 
faith  in  herself,  but  also  that  France  should  have 
faith  in  the  Maid.  The  delay  gave  time  for 
rumour  to  spread,  and  so  made  it  possible  to 
launch  the  Maid  upon  a  world  ready  to  believe 
that  her  mission  was  a  fulfilment  of  old  pro- 
phecies. 

In  a  sense,  no  doubt,  the  proceedings  were  a 
fraud  upon  credulity ;  and  there  can  be  little 
doubt  that,  in  some  ecclesiastical  quarters,  the 
fraud  was  conscious  and  deliberate.  The  pro- 
phecies which  the  ecclesiastics  quoted  for  their 
purpose  were,  in  some  cases,  fabrications,  and, 
in  other  cases,  had  no  bearing  whatsoever  on 
the  matter  to  which  they  were  supposed  to 
refer.  It  was  not  true  that  the  advent  of  the 
Maid  had  been  predicted  by  Merlin,  and  the 
Venerable  Bede  ;  among  those  who  dissemi- 
nated the  belief  there  must  certainly  have  been 
some  who  knew  better.  But  the  Maid  herself, 


JEANNE  D'ARC  89 

it  is  quite  clear,  was  no  conscious  party  to  any 
fraud,  pious  or  otherwise. 

She  had  her  fixed  idea,  and  she  was  impatient. 
She  regarded  the  proceedings  of  the  theolo- 
gians pretty  much  as  we  regard  "  red  tape/'  It 
seemed  to  her  that  they  were  wasting  precious 
time  when  it  was  urgent  that  she  should  be  up 
and  doing.  Her  replies  to  their  questions  were 
often  curt  and  contemptuous.  "  What  language 
did  your  angels  speak  to  you  ? "  she  was 
asked,  for  instance,  by  one  of  her  examiners,  who 
spoke  the  patois  of  Limoges ;  and  her  answer 
was  :  "  They  spoke  better  French  than  you  do." 
She  was  most  indignant,  too,  at  the  proposal 
that  she  should  prove  her  supernatural  gifts 
by  working  a  miracle.  She  had  not  come  to 
Chinon  to  work  miracles,  she  said.  Let  them 
take  her  to  Orleans,  and  there  she  would  work 
the  miracle  of  raising  the  siege  and  scattering 
the  English. 

The  six  weeks'  ordeal  passed,  however,  and 
the  report  of  the  learned  doctors  was  favourable. 
They  reported  that  Jeanne  was  of  good  repute, 
and  that  there  seemed  to  be  miraculous  circum- 
stances associated  with  her  birth  and  child- 
hood ;  that,  though  she  had  worked  no  miracle 
as  yet,  she  gave  as  her  reason  that  God  forbade 
her  to  do  so,  and  that  it  would  be  well  to  conduct 
her  to  Orleans  in  order  that  she  might  work  the 
miracle  which  she  promised  there.  To  have 
fear  of  her,  they  concluded,  or  to  reject  her  aid 
when  no  appearance  of  evil  could  be  found  in 


90  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

her,  would  be  to  show  oneself  unworthy  of  God's 
help,  as  Gamaliel  had  said,  with  regard  to  the 
Apostles,  at  a  council  of  the  Jews. 

Copies  of  that  report  were  circulated  broad- 
cast— the  Holy  Roman  Emperor  was  one  of 
those  who  received  a  copy  of  it.  And  then,  the 
minds  of  men  having  been  prepared,  Jeanne 
was  taken  to  Tours,  and  equipped  with  a  suit 
of  mail,  and  launched  upon  her  enterprise. 


CHAPTER    IX 

The  nature  of  the  Maid's  enterprise — The  march  to  Orleans — 
Orleans  entered — The  English  siege-works  attacked — The  siege 
raised. 

WE  must  not  exaggerate  the  difficulty  of  the 
Maid's  enterprise,  or  the  importance  of  the  part 
which  the  Maid  was  intended  to  play  in  it. 

Orleans,  as  has  already  been  said,  was  the 
Moscow  of  the  English  invasion,  and  the  relief 
of  Orleans  was  to  be  the  turning  of  the  tide. 
The  English  army  was  constantly  finding  it- 
self short  of  men,  of  munitions,  of  provisions. 
It  established  a  certain  number  of  block-houses, 
called  bastilles,  at  intervals,  outside  the  walls  of 
Orleans  ;  but  the  investment  of  the  city  was 
never  complete.  Sorties  were  frequent ;  and 
both  reinforcements  and  fresh  supplies — herds 
of  cattle  and  droves  of  pigs — were  received  by 
the  besieged  from  time  to  time.  If  such  a  siege 
was  not  raised,  the  only  reason  could  be  that 
no  serious  attempt  was  made  to  raise  it.  Nor 
was  it  likely  that,  in  the  absence  of  such  an 
attempt,  it  would  be  taken  by  assault.  An  old 
chronicler's  account  of  the  repulse  of  such  an 
assault  will  be  in  its  place  here  because  women 
played  their  part  in  it  : 

91 


92  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

"  On  Thursday,  October  21,  1428, "  we  read, 
"  at  about  12  a.m.,  the  English  made  a  terrible 
attack  on  the  French  who  held  the  rampart  at 
the  end  of  the  bridge.  The  assault  was  long 
persisted  in,  and  many  English  were  killed  and 
wounded,  for  the  French  threw  them  down 
from  their  scaling-ladders  into  the  moat,  where 
they  could  not  get  up  again,  and  pelted  them 
with  blazing  coals,  and  quick-lime,  and  poured 
on  to  them  boiling  fat  and  boiling  water,  which 
the  women  of  Orleans  fetched.  Moreover,  for  the 
refreshment  of  the  French  in  the  midst  of  their 
hard  struggle,  the  said  women  provided  them 
with  wine,  and  meat,  and  fruit,  and  vinegar, 
and  clean  napkins,  together  with  stones,  and 
everything  else  what  they  needed  for  the  de- 
fence ;  and  some  of  them  were  seen  in  the  course 
of  the  assault,  thrusting  the  English  down  from 
the  rampart  with  pikes/' 

Decidedly,  therefore,  the  condition  of  the 
stronghold  was  by  no  means  so  desperate  that 
nothing  short  of  a  miracle  could  relieve  it ;  and 
though  the  Maid  had  promised  that  God  would 
work  a  miracle  beneath  the  walls,  the  relief 
expedition  was  by  no  means  prepared  on  the 
assumption  that  the  walls  of  the  English  block- 
houses would  fall  down  flat  because  a  banner 
was  waved  and  a  trumpet  blown  at  them. 
The  army  which  accompanied  the  Maid  con- 
sisted of  about  7,000  men,  and  convoyed  600 
wagons  laden  with  supplies,  and  400  head  of 
cattle. 


JEANNE   D'ARC  93 

Nor  must  we  picture  the  Maid  as  commanding 
this  great  host.  Her  mission  was  not  to  com- 
mand, but  to  inspire.  She  had  nothing  to  say 
—she  could  in  the  nature  of  the  case  have 
nothing  to  say — to  the  military  organisation  ; 
she  rode  in  the  ranks  as  a  prophetess  rather 
than  a  warrior.  Not  every  one  believed  in  her 
at  first,  though  all  believed  in  her  in  the  end ; 
but  everything  was  done  that  pomp  and  cir- 
cumstance could  do  to  make  her  a  rallying-point 
of  religious  enthusiasm.  Priests  marched  before 
her  carrying  a  banner,  and  singing  Veni  creator 
Spiritus.  Her  departure  was  heralded  by  the 
despatch  of  a  letter,  addressed  to  King  Henry, 
his  Regent,  and  the  three  officers — Scales, 
Suffolk,  and  Talbot — in  command  of  his  army 
before  Orleans.  It  is  a  long  letter  ;  but  a  few 
lines  will  show  what  was  the  note  of  the  sum- 
mons : 

"  Restore  to  the  Maid,  who  is  sent  from  God, 
the  King  of  Heaven,  the  keys  of  all  the  goodly 
towns  which  you  have  taken  and  outraged  in 
France.  She  has  come  from  God,  to  claim  the 
royal  blood.  ...  If  you  will  not  believe  the  news 
thus  sent  to  you  by  God  and  by  the  Maid,  then, 
wherever  we  find  you,  we  will  smite  you  hard, 
and  make  such  a  to-do  as  has  not  been  heard 
in  France  these  thousand  years.  For  the  King 
of  Heaven  will  give  the  Maid  and  the  men-at- 
arms  who  are  with  her  greater  strength  than  you 
have  in  all  your  assaults,  and  in  the  battle  you 


94  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

shall  3ee  on  which  side  is  the  right.  But,  if 
you  do  the  Maid's  bidding,  then  shall  you  go 
in  her  company  thither  where  the  French  will 
accomplish  the  greatest  feat  of  arms  ever  yet 
done  for  Christendom.  Make  answer,  there- 
fore, whether  you  will  make  peace  in  the  city 
of  Orleans  ;  but  if  you  will  not  make  peace,  then 
shall  great  harm  presently  be  done  to  you." 

The  letter  is  given  to  us  as  one  which  the 
Maid,  who  could  neither  read  nor  write,  dic- 
tated ;  and  it  is,  of  course,  impossible  to  say 
whether  it  was  written  out  exactly  as  she  did 
dictate  it.  The  summons  to  the  English  to 
make  peace  with  the  French  and  join  them  in  a 
Crusade — presumably  against  the  Turks  who 
were  then  threatening  Constantinople — seems 
more  likely  than  not  to  have  been  added  by  an 
ecclesiastic.  But  the  spirit  of  the  letter,  whether 
it  was  the  Maid's  own  or  a  clerk's,  was  well  con- 
ceived. It  gave  the  impression,  in  an  age  in 
which  such  impressions  were  easily  conveyed, 
that  the  war  of  which  the  Maid  was  the  figure- 
head was  a  holy  war,  and  that  the  powers  of 
Heaven  would  be  found  arrayed  upon  her  side. 

In  the  case  of  the  English  that  impression 
would  doubtless  be  delayed — they  would  begin 
by  laughing  at  a  girl's  idle  threats.  But  that 
was  no  great  matter — defeat  would  be  likely  to 
shake  them  beyond  recovery  if  they  believed 
that  supernatural  forces  were  at  work  against 
them.  And  the  French,  of  course,  on  their  part, 


JEANNE  D'ARC 


95 


were  infinitely  more  likely  to  inflict  defeat  if 
persuaded  that  they  had  supernatural  help. 
So  the  letter  was  despatched  and  delivered  ;  and 
the  manner  of  its  reception  showed  that  it  was 
producing  its  effect.  The  herald  who  carried 
it  was  detained ;  and  a  message  was  sent  to 
Paris  to  inquire  whether  it  would  be  proper  to 
burn  him  alive.  The  raising  of  the  question 
proves  that  the  rumours  of  the  Maid's 
coming  had  already  caused  consternation  in 
the  English  camp. 

Jeanne  herself,  meanwhile,  entered  Orleans 
with  her  convoy  ;  and  her  army  returned  to 
Blois  to  fetch  a  second.  It  was  a  clumsy  tactical 
course.  The  French,  being  in  greater  strength 
than  the  English,  who  were  hanging  on  by 
the  skin  of  their  teeth,  awaiting  reinforcements, 
ought  to  have  given  battle  at  once  ;  but  Jeanne 
had  nothing  to  do  with  that.  She  looked  upon 
herself,  at  that  hour,  less  as  a  military  leader 
than  as  the  guardian  of  an  army's  morals  ;  she 
had  chased  loose  women  from  the  ranks ;  she 
had  insisted  that  her  soldiers  should  refrain 
from  oaths  and  confess  their  sins  to  priests.  In 
that  way  she  had  formed,  or  fancied  that  she 
had  formed,  a  new  army  on  a  New  Model; 
she  feared  that,  if  she  left  it,  the  Old  Adam 
would  reappear  in  its  midst. 

She  left  it,  however,  and  entered  the  town  by 
night,  clad  in  her  armour,  mounted  on  a  white 
horse,  and  escorted  from  the  gate  by  a  torch- 
light procession  ;  and  her  arrival  was  like  that 


96  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

of  the  generals  of  whom  it  has  been  said  that 
their  presence  on  a  battle-field  is  as  good  as  an 
additional  army  corps.  Not  men,  but  faith— 
not  the  genius  of  a  military  leader,  but  the  con- 
viction that  victory  was  within  their  grasp — was 
what  the  citizens  of  Orleans  needed.  Jeanne 
brought  them  that,  with  the  result  that  pacific 
tradesmen  became  as  eager  to  fight  as  the 
retainers  of  the  feudal  lords.  It  became  an 
instinct  with  them  to  sally  and,  storm  block- 
houses while  Jeanne  was  still  sending  the 
enemy  summons  after  summons  to  quit  those 
blockhouses  and  depart  in  peace — "  failing 
which  I  shall  make  such  a  to-do  among  you  as 
will  never  be  forgotten." 

Her  voices  were  still  prompting  her,  though 
their  utterances  were  sometimes  perplexing. 
They  woke  her  at  night,  and  she  leapt  out  of 
bed,  lamenting  the  dubiety  of  their  commands  : 

' '  Name  of  God  !  "  she  exclaimed.  "My 
Counsel  has  told  me  that  I  must  march  against 
the  English,  but  I  know  not  whether  I  ought 
to  attack  their  blockhouses  or  to  fall  upon 
Sir  John  Fastolf,  who  is  to  revictual  them." 

That  matter,  indeed,  was  already  being 
settled,  not  by  the  voices,  but  by  the  bourgeoisie 
of  Orleans.  An  attack  upon  a  block-house  was 
already  proceeding,  and  the  Maid  called  for  her 
armour  and  hastened  out  to  take  part  in  it. 
She  had  never  taken  part  in  a  fight — she  had 
never  even  seen  a  fight — before  ;  but  her  mere 


JEANNE  D'ARC  97 

presence  transformed  what  had  begun  as  a 
demonstration  into  a  serious  assault.  The 
block-house  fell,  and  prisoners  were  taken.  So 
great  is  the  power  of  faith — its  power  was  the 
greater  because  the  French  were  in  a  majority 
of  about  five  to  one  ;  and  the  Maid  harangued 
her  host. 

"  Confess  your  sins/'  she  said,  "  and  render 
thanks  to  God  for  the  victory  which  you  have 
gained.  Otherwise  the  Maid  will  no  longer  help 
you  by  continuing  in  your  company.0 

It  was  a  useful  victory,  won  at  a  trifling  cost. 
In  the  course  of  three  hours'  fighting  only  three 
French  combatants  had  been  killed.  The 
English  were  not  discouraged  ;  but  the  citizens 
were  stirred  to  enthusiasm.  Having  begun  to 
fight,  they  meant  to  go  on  fighting,  whether 
with  or  without  the  approval  of  their  military 
leaders  ;  and  it  was  the  Maid  who  insisted  that 
they  should  be  allowed  to  have  their  way.  The 
Sire  de  Gaucourt  tried  to  keep  them  back- 
presumably  because  he  doubted  their  military 
value,  as  professional  soldiers  always  doubt  the 
military  value  of  untrained  amateurs ;  but  the 
Maid  admonished  him  : 

"  You  are  a  wicked  man,"  she  said,  "  not  to 
let  these  people  go  out  to  battle.  Yet  it  matters 
little  whether  you  let  them  or  not.  With  your 
leave  or  without  it,  they  will  have  their  sally  and 

7 


98  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

acquit  themselves  every  whit  as  well  as  they  did 
the  other  day/' 

So  the  Sire  de  Gaucourt  gave  way,  and  even 
offered  to  lead  the  sally  which  he  could  not 
prevent;  but  the  real  leader,  both  then  and 
until  the  end  of  the  siege,  was  the  Maid  herself. 

She  had  a  personal  insult  to  avenge.  Her  last 
message,  summoning  the  enemy  to  surrender, 
had  been  shot  into  the  English  camp,  fastened 
to  an  arrow.  An  answer  had  been  shouted  back, 
acknowledging  the  receipt  of  "  a  letter  from  the 
harlot  of  the  Armagnacs."  Jeanne  had  burst 
into  tears  on  hearing  the  brutal  words  ;  but  she 
had  once  more  seen  her  Visions  and  heard  her 
Voices  and  been  comforted ;  and  there  would 
be  no  weakness  when  she  buckled  on  her  armour 
and  took  the  field — not  though  a  Voice  had 
warned  her  that  she  was  destined  to  be  wounded. 

Once  again  we  find  her  in  conflict  with  the 
professional  soldiers.  They  argued  at  a  Council 
of  War  that,  as  the  town  was  well  provisioned 
and  an  army  was  marching  to  its  relief,  it  would 
be  better  to  await  reinforcements  before  push- 
ing the  attack  home — an  absolutely  sound 
view  by  all  the  rules  of  strategy  ;  but  the  Maid 
once  more  spoke  up  to  the  captains  : 

"  You  come  from  your  Council/'  she  said, 
"  and  I  come  from  mine.  Believe  me,  the 
counsel  of  my  Lord  will  be  accomplished,  and 
your  counsel  will  come  to  naught. " 


JEANNE   D'ARC  99 

And  so  it  happened. 

The  arguments  of  the  captains  were  most 
plausible.  To  denude  the  walls  of  their  de- 
fenders, as  the  Maid  and  the  citizens  proposed, 
was  to  invite  the  enemy  to  "  rush  "  the  city 
during  their  absence  :  the  risk  was  not  one 
which  it  was  reasonable  for  a  garrison,  not  yet 
hard  pressed,  and  expecting  a  strong  relieving 
force,  to  take.  Enthusiasm,  however,  required 
that  the  risk  should  be  taken  ;  and  enthusiasm 
—helped  by  the  weakness  of  the  English 
forces — carried  the  adventure  to  a  triumphant 
issue.  "  Let  those  who  love  me  follow  me," 
Jeanne  cried  ;  and  they  all  followed  her. 

She  was  wounded,  as  the  angels  had  warned 
her  that  she  would  be.  An  arrow  entered  a 
joint  in  her  armour  and  pierced  her  shoulder — 
it  is  said  that  the  pain  made  her  cry.  But  she 
would  not  let  the  hurt  be  charmed,  though  she 
believed  that  charms  were  efficacious.  "  Better 
to  die,"  she  said,  "  than  to  commit  a  sin,  or  do 
what  is  contrary  to  the  will  of  God."  So  her 
wound  was  dressed,  and  presently  she  re- 
turned to  the  fray,  cheering  her  men  as  before, 
promising  them  the  victory,  and  calling  on  one 
of  the  English  captains  who  had  insulted  her  : 
"  Glasdale,  surrender  to  the  King  of  Heaven. 
You  called  me  a  harlot,  and  I  am  full  of  pity  for 
your  soul  and  the  souls  of  all  your  men." 

So  the  battle  continued  to  rage  ;  and,  in  the 
end,  the  great  outwork  known  as  Les  Tourelles 
was  taken,  and  the  Maid's  standard  floated  on 


ioo  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

the  ruins.  The  bulk  of  the  French  army 
marched  back  in  triumph  into  Orleans,  and 
debated  whether  it  was  proper  to  renew  the 
battle  on  the  next  day,  which  happened  to  be 
Sunday.  Once  more  it  was  by  the  Maid,  and 
not  by  the  captains,  that  the  question  was 
resolved.  Some  of  the  world's  greatest  battles, 
including  Waterloo,  have,  as  we  all  know,  been 
fought  upon  a  Sunday;  but  Jeanne  decided 
that  it  was  better  to  observe  the  Lord's  Day 
than  to  follow  up  a  success  and  complete  the 
confusion  of  the  enemy  : 

"  For  the  love  and  honour  of  the  holy  Sunday," 
she  said,  "  do  not  be  the  first  to  engage  in  battle. 
Do  not  attack  the  English ;  but  if  the  English 
attack  you,  defend  yourselves  valiantly,  and 
have  no  fear,  for  the  victory  will  surely  be  yours." 

But  the  English  had  no  intention  of  attack- 
ing. They  drew  up  in  line,  as  if  in  challenge 
and  demonstration ;  but  when  they  saw  that 
the  demonstration  was  unheeded  and  the  chal- 
lenge was  declined,  they  wheeled  about,  and 
marched  away  in  good  order.  "It  is  not  my 
Lord's  will  that  you  should  fight  them  to-day," 
said  the  Maid.  "  You  will  be  able  to  fight  them 
another  time.  Now  go  and  give  God  the  glory." 

Thus  Orleans  was  relieved  after  a  siege  of 
209  days — nine  days  after  the  entrance  of  the 
Maid. 


CHAPTER    X 

Theological  treatises  on  the  Maid's  mission — Disputes  between 
rival  historians  as  to  her  military  capacity — The  power  of  faith 
— The  march  to  Reims  and  the  coronation  of  the  King  of 
France.  / 

THOUGH  Orleans  had  been  delivered,  theological 
deliberations  did  not  cease.  It  was  apparent, 
and  was  therefore,  in  a  general  way,  agreed 
that  the  Maid  was  marvellous.  The  whole  face 
of  the  war  had  been  altered  by  the  inspiration 
of  her  advent.  But  the  phenomenon  needed 
explanation.  All  Christendom,  in  fact,  was 
talking  about  it ;  and  it  was  the  clear  business 
of  the  clergy  to  lay  down  the  law  on  the  subject. 
So,  while  the  Maid  and  the  men-at-arms  were 
following  up  the  Orleans  victory  with  other 
victories,  bishops  and  others  were  putting  and 
answering  the  questions  :  What  was  it  proper 
to  think  about  the  Maid  ?  What  use  was  it 
reasonable  to  make  of  her  ? 

We  have  a  notable  treatise  on  the  subject, 
dashed  off  at  the  topical  hour,  by  Jacques  Gelu, 
Archbishop  of  Embrun.  He  was  a  most  learned 
clerk  ;  he  supported  his  arguments  with  quo- 
tations from  innumerable  classical  authors, 
from  Euripides  and  Aristotle  to  Eratosthenes 

101 


102  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

and  Marcus  Varro  ;  and  the  language  in  which 
he  contrasted  the  Maid's  glorious  feats  of  arms 
with  her  humble  origin  sounds  to  a  modern  ear 
more  eloquent  and  picturesque  than  courteous. 
He  wrote  of  her  as  "  a  child  brought  up  on 
a  dung-hill"  ;  he  compared  her  to  "  the  insects 
such  as  flies  and  fleas,  by  means  of  which  God 
often  abases  the  pride  of  men."  But  he  meant 
well. 

His  conclusion  was  favourable,  though  piety 
and  worldly  wisdom  were  curiously  commingled 
in  it.  He  advised,  in  the  first  place,  that  all 
the  armies  should  be  properly  equipped  and 
that  all  the  measures  which  prudence  prompted 
should  be  taken.  Then,  but  not  till  then,  "  the 
counsel  of  the  Maid  should  be  asked,  sought, 
and  solicited  in  preference  to  any  other."  And 
that  not  only  in  military  matters:  the  Maid 
might  also  be  engaged  to  promote  piety  in  high 
places  : 

"  We  give  the  King  this  advice  :  that  he 
should,  every  day,  perform  some  task  agreeable 
to  God,  and  should  confer  with  the  Maid  about 
it ;  and  that,  whatever  counsel  the  Maid  gives 
him,  he  should  act  upon  it  devoutly,  in  order 
that  God  may  not  withdraw  His  support  from 
him,  but  may  continue  the  gift  of  His  grace." 

Very  similar,  though  in  some  respects  more 
ample,  was  the  report  of  Jean  Gerson,  sometime 
Chancellor  of  the  University  of  Paris,  and  now 
living  in  a  monastery  at  Lyon. 


JEANNE  D'ARC  103 

The  Maid's  supernatural  endowment,  he  laid 
down,  was  not  one  of  those  fundamental  articles 
of  the  Catholic  faith  which  every  man  must 
accept  or  perish  everlastingly — it  obviously 
could  not  be,  as  the  Pope  had  not  been  con- 
sulted on  the  subject.  But  it  was  a  probable 
belief,  convenient  and  edifying ;  and  its  wide  dis- 
semination was  desirable.  If  the  King  and  the 
clergy  preferred  to  reserve  their  own  judgment, 
hey  should  at  least  discourage  doubt  on  the 
part  of  the  soldiers  and  the  common  people. 
Nor  need  they  be  perturbed  by  that  Article  of 
the  Canon  Law  which  forbade  women  to  wear 
men's  apparel.  That  article  was  only  directed 
against  an  indecorum  which  was  not  here 
involved.  On  the  assumption  that  the  Maid 
was  the  channel  of  the  divine  grace,  operating 
for  the  greater  glory  of  France,  the  end  might 
properly  be  held  to  sanctify  the  means. 

Meanwhile  the  fighting  continued.  Jargeau 
and  Beaugency  were  taken  ;  Meung  was  evacu- 
ated ;  the  battle  of  Pathay  was  won.  Suffolk 
was  made  prisoner,  and  Sir  John  Fastolfs 
relieving  force  was  scattered.  How  much  or 
how  little  the  Maid  had  to  do  with  it  all  is  one 
of  those  obscure  problems  concerning  which 
rival  historians  are  apt  to  argue  with  excess  of 
fury.  Nearly  all  the  authorities  are  on  the  one 
side ;  nearly  all  the  probabilities  are  on  the 
other.  Andrew  Lang,  discussing  the  point 
with  M.  Anatole  France,  belaboured  his  oppo- 
nent with  quotations  from  eye-witnesses  of  the 


104  WOMEN   IN    WAR 

Maid's  prowess,  declaring  that  there  is  nothing 
to  set  against  their  evidence  except  "  the 
repeated  assertions  of  a  peaceful  man  of 
letters/'  concluding  with  a  scorn  which  is  any- 
thing but  peaceful  : 

"  Dunois,  de  Termes,  d'Alencon,  and  the 
other  knights  are  dust,  their  good  swords  are 
rust ;  and  it  is  safe  to  give  them  the  lie  !  " 

No  doubt ;  but  M.  France  might  reply  that 
it  is  also  impossible  to  cross-examine  them,  and 
inquire  whether  they  intended  to  criticise  or 
to  pay  compliments.  And  he  might  add  that 
what  we  know  of  the  Maid's  military  disposi- 
tions is  extremely  vague ;  and  that  that  is 
where  Andrew  Lang's  comparison  of  her  to  "  the 
untutored  Clive  "  breaks  down.  We  know  that 
Clive  won  the  battle  of  Plassey  by  acting  in  de- 
fiance to  the  advice  of  a  Council  of  War ;  where- 
as, in  the  case  of  the  Maid,  we  know  little  except 
that  she  urged  men  forward,  assuring  them  of 
victory,  with  such  stimulating  words  as— 

"  On,  friends,  on  !  The  Lord  has  judged  the 
English.  Be  of  good  courage.  Within  an  hour 
from  now  we  shall  have  them  !  ' 

And  that,  surely,  is  enough  to  know.  It 
makes  Jeanne  something  more  than  the  "  mas- 
cot "  to  which  M.  Anatole  France  sometimes 
seeks  to  reduce  her,  though  a  good  deal  less  than 
the  great  military  leader  which  Andrew  Lang 
in  her.  Her  true  mission  was  not  to  direct 


JEANNE   D'ARC  105 

but  to  inspire ;  and  Jeanne  inspired  enthusiasm 
in  the  French  army,  anxiety  in  the  English 
army,  and  curiosity  throughout  Europe,  not 
because  she  was  believed  to  be  a  great  general, 
but  because  she  was  believed  to  be  a  prophetess 
inspired  by  God.  Even  in  Germany  men  dis- 
puted whether  she  was  a  human  being  or  an 
angel  in  human  shape  ;  while  an  alderman  of 
Toulouse  wrote  to  consult  her  concerning  a  pro- 
posal for  the  depreciation  of  the  currency. 
Faith,  it  is  evident,  was  the  force  which  was 
moving  mountain*;  though  the  mountains,  as 
we  have  seen,  were  in  unstable  equilibrium, 
and  not  very  difficult  to  move. 

Besides  her  faith,  however,  the  Maid  had  her 
fixed  ideas — fixed  in  an  unalterable  order  of 
succession.  The  first  had  been  to  relieve 
Orleans ;  the  second  was  to  take  the  Dauphin 
to  be  crowned  at  Reims.  After  that,  she  meant 
to  march  to  Paris,  expel  all  the  English  from 
French  soil,  and  obtain  the  release  of  Charles 
Due  d' Orleans — the  prisoner  of  Agincourt,  who 
languished,  a  prisoner,  in  English  castles, 
writing  ballades  in  praise  of  peace,  and  cheerful 
songs  to  ward  off  melancholy. 

But  though  the  Duke  sang  blithely  in  Dover 
Castle,  while  the  Maid  worked  her  wonders, 
years  were  to  elapse  before  he  got  his  freedom. 
The  Maid  meant  to  do  things,  one  at  a  time,  in 
the  order  of  their  importance.  The  fighting 
after  Orleans  had  been  the  soldier's  idea,  not 
hers.  A  great  general  would  assuredly  have 


io6  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

followed  up  the  successes  by  marching  on  Paris, 
where  Henry  VTs  Regent,  stricken  with  panic, 
had  taken  refuge  in  the  fortress  of  Vincennes. 
But  Jeanne,  not  being  a  great  general,  but  only 
a  great  prophetess,  held  that  the  Dauphin's 
coronation  must  come  first. 

"  Noble  Dauphin/'  she  said  to  him,  when  he 
wavered,  like  the  weak  man  that  he  was,  not 
knowing  what  to  do  next,  "  hold  not  such  long 
and  wordy  councils,  but  come  at  once  to  Reims 
and  be  worthily  crowned  there  "  ;  and  Dunois, 
the  Bastard  of  Orleans,  tells  us  how  she  argued 
that,  "  when  the  Dauphin  was  crowned  and 
consecrated,  the  power  of  his  adversaries  would 
continually  dwindle.  So  all  came  over  to  her 
opinion  " — an  opinion  for  which  there  was,  no 
doubt,  something  to  be  said,  though  there  was 
also  a  great  deal  to  be  said  against  it.  From 
the  soldier's  point  of  view,  of  course,  it  was 
sheer  folly  to  give  the  enemy  the  opportunity  to 
recuperate.  On  the  other  hand,  coronation— 
especially  at  Reims — had  a  sentimental  and 
superstitious  value.  Miraculous  virtue  was 
attributed  to  the  oil  preserved  through  the  ages 
in  the  Sainte- Ampoule.  The  English  had  talked 
of  anointing  Henry  VI  with  that  unguent ;  and 
it  was  natural  that  the  French  should  wish  to 
anticipate  them  by  first  anointing  Charles. 
They  could  reasonably  believe  that  it  would 
brace  him  and  win  him  adherents. 

As,  in  fact,  it  did,  the  march  to  Reims  be- 
ginning on  June  29.     One  might  call  it  the  race 


JEANNE  D'ARC  107 

for  the  chrism,  were  it  not  for  the  fact  that 
neither  the  King  of  England  nor  the  Regent, 
on  his  behalf,  was  in  a  state,  just  then,  to  begin 
a  rival  march  to  the  holy  city.  They  held  cer- 
tain towns  on  the  road,  but  not  in  sufficient 
force  to  resist.  At  the  most,  they  could  only 
demonstrate  and  bargain  before  surrendering. 
That  was  what  happened  at  Auxerre,  at  Troyes, 
at  Chalons,  and  at  Reims  itself  ;  and  it  was  only 
at  Troyes  that  there  seemed  to  be  even  a  possi- 
bility of  trouble.  The  threat  brought  the  Maid 
into  the  Dauphin's  Council,  and  also  into  the 
field: 

"  Noble  Dauphin/'  we  find  her  exhorting 
him,  "  give  orders  to  your  people  to  assail  the 
town  of  Troyes,  and  waste  no  more  time  in 
over-long  deliberations,  for,  in  the  name  of 
God,  before  three  days  I  will  cause  you  to 
enter  the  town,  which  shall  be  yours  through 
love,  power,  and  courage.  And  false  Burgundy 
shall  look  very  foolish." 

And  so  it  happened.  There  was  a  demon- 
stration— a  semblance  of  preparations  for 
assault.  Jeanne  was  seen  by  the  burghers 
throwing — or  making  the  gesture  of  one  who 
threw — fascines  into  the  moat;  and  presently 
the  Bishop  came  out  to  negotiate,  and  it  was 
arranged  that  Charles  should  enter  the  town  in 
peace,  pledging  himself  to  accord  an  amnesty 
to  all  those  who  had  been  his  enemies.  And  so 
to  Chalons,  where  the  Count-Bishop  came  out 


io8  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

to  yield  up  the  keys  of  the  town,  and  thence  to 
Reims,  where  there  was  as  little  resistance  as 
at  Chalons.  The  report  that  the  English  were 
marching  in  force  on  Reims  was  not  believed 
there ;  and  the  inhabitants  worked  all  through 
the  night  in  order  to  have  everything  ready  for 
the  French  King's  coronation  on  the  morning  of 
July  17. 

The  great  regalia  of  the  kingdom  were  lack- 
ing. The  crown,  and  the  sword,  and  the  sceptre 
of  Charlemagne  were  at  Saint-Denis,  which  was 
in  the  possession  of  the  English.  But  a  crown 
which  might  serve  was  found  in  the  cathedral, 
and  the  other  appurtenances  proper  to  the  cere- 
mony were  improvised.  The  Maid  stood  by 
the  King's  side  holding  her  standard  aloft 
during  the  performance  of  the  rite  ;  and  it  was, 
relates  a  chronicler,  "  a  most  fair  thing  to  see  the 
goodly  manners  of  the  King  and  the  Maid  "  ; 
and  then  the  Maid  knelt  to  the  King,  and  said 
to  him  with  tears  : 

"  Gracious  King,  now  is  accomplished  the 
good  pleasure  of  God,  whose  will  it  was  that  I 
should  raise  the  siege  of  Orleans,  and  conduct 
you  to  this  holy  city  of  Reims,  to  receive  your 
holy  consecration,  which  proves  that  you  are 
the  true  King,  and  that  the  kingdom  of  France 
is  rightly  yours." 

"And  great  pity,"  we  read,  "overcame  all 
those  who  beheld  her,  and  many  of  them  wept." 

One  knows  not  why,  unless  it  be  because 


JEANNE  D'ARC 


109 


tears  belong  to  joy  as  well  as  grief,  and  to  all 
sudden  reverses  of  fortune,  however  happy. 
The  pity  and  the  pathos  of  the  tears  were  not  for 
those  who  shed  them,  but  for  us  who  come  to 
this  climax  of  the  Maid's  story  with  the  know- 
ledge of  the  end  of  it  in  our  minds,  and  the 
distant  vision  of  the  funeral  pyre — not  so  very 
distant  either — clouding  with  the  wreaths  of  its 
black  smoke  the  glorious  spectacle  of  the  re- 
nascence of  France,  accomplished  by  the  Maid's 
simple  and  single-hearted  faith. 

But  the  end  was  not  quite  yet.  The  Maid 
had  set  herself  other  tasks  not  destined  to  be 
accomplished  in  her  life-time.  We  have  to 
accompany  her  on  other  marches,  and  see  how 
she  quitted  herself  in  other  battles. 


CHAPTER    XI 

After  the  coronation — Vicissitudes  of  fortune — Failure  of  the 
attack  on  Paris — Rival  prophetesses — Capture  of  the  Maid  at 
Compiegne — Failure  of  the  French  to  ransom  her — Her  trial 
and  execution  at  Rouen. 

AFTER  the  coronation,  the  French  seem  to  have 
muddled  their  business  badly.     The  attack  on 
Paris  was  delayed  too  long,  and  then  it  was 
made  with  an  insufficient  siege-train,  and  with 
insufficient  energy.     The  assailants  were  called 
off  by  their  vacillating  King  before  their  ina- 
bility to  enter  was  really  demonstrated ;    and 
they  left  behind  them  three  hundred  hand-carts 
and  six  hundred  and  sixty  scaling  ladders.     The 
Maid's  intrepidity  was  the  one  redeeming  feature 
of  the  defeat,  though  it  would  still  seem  that 
she   was   there — whatever  legend    may  say- 
not  to  command,  but  only  to  encourage  and 
exhort.     Neither  by  officers  nor  by  men  were 
her  exhortations  accepted  as  commands.     The 
men  went  back  when  she  cried,  "  Forward  !  ' 
not    because    they    were    panic-stricken,    but 
because   they   were    "  called   off."     And   that 
though  she  had  called,  in  their  name,  upon  the 
Burgundians  to  yield,  shouting  to  them  : 

"  In  Jesus'  name,  surrender  to  us  speedily. 

no 


JEANNE   D'ARC  in 

For  if  ye  yield  not  by  night-fall,  we  shall  enter 
by  force,  whether  ye  will  or  not,  and  ye  shall 
all  be  put  to  death  without  mercy/' 

It  was  her  first  failure,  visible  and  palpable  ; 
the  more  tragic  because  it  was  not  in  any  way 
her  fault.  It  proved  to  the  English  that  the 
faith  of  the  French  in  her  was,  after  all,  limited. 
It  gave  vigour  to  the  shouts  of  "  Wanton  !  "  and 
[<  Minx ! "  with  which  they  derided  her,  and 
encouraged  them  to  think  of  her  as  a  witch,  a 
limb  of  the  devil,  not  an  angel  sent  from  God 
for  their  distress.  So  we  may  say  that  the  long 
cloud  which  was  presently  to  eclipse,  not  her 
glory,  but  her  material  triumphs,  first  touched 
her  on  that  disastrous  day  ;  but  the  unfalter- 
ing courage  of  which,  at  the  moment,  men  took 
so  little  notice,  remains  an  heroic  example  for 
all  time.  One  may  gratefully  quote  Andrew 
Lang's  tribute,  even  though  one  has  difficulty 
in  accepting  his  doctrine  of  the  Maid's  conscious 
military  genius  : 

"  Through  the  mist,"  he  writes,  "  one  figure 
stands  out  clear  in  the  sunlight,  discerned  alike 
by  friend  and  foe :  a  girl  of  seventeen  in  white 
armour,  who  lets  herself  down  into  the  deep 
dry  fosse,  who  climbs  out  on  to  the  dos  d'dne 
under  the  city  wall,  and,  like  Bruce  at  Perth, 
fathoms  the  water  of  the  great  fosse  with  her 
lance,  under  a  rain  of  projectiles,  till  she  is 
smitten  through  the  thigh.  Undaunted,  un- 


ii2  WOMEN  IN   WAR 

weakened,  she  cries  on  the  men.     History  shows 
no  other  such  picture/' 

Still,  just  as  nothing  succeeds  like  success, 
so  nothing  fails  like  failure.  It  was  known 
already  that  Jeanne  could  be  wounded;  and, 
indeed,  no  such  immunity  from  the  common  lot 
was  claimed  either  by  her  or  for  her.  Now  it 
was  proved  that  she  could  be  beaten — that  her 
presence  with  an  army  did  not  necessarily 
bring  good  luck.  The  bodily  wound  was 
nothing  in  comparison  with  the  wound  to  her 
prestige.  Her  personal  courage  never  flagged  ; 
but  her  power  of  inspiration  began  to  fail.  And 
her  great  mission  had  been  to  inspire.  Wlien 
she  ceased  to  inspire,  the  faith  which  had  begun 
by  moving  mountains  would  end  by  failing  to 
move  molehills. 

No  blame  attaches  to  her  :  all  the  blame 
belongs  to  her  timorous  King  and  his  tortuous 
diplomatists.  A  great  military  leader,  of  course, 
would  have  overcome  their  fears,  trampled  on 
their  fatuous  hesitations,  and  organised  victory 
in  spite  of  them.  Those  who  think  of  the  Maid  as 
a  great  military  leader  might  revise  their  opinion 
if  they  try  to  picture  any  of  the  famous  generals 
of  history,  from  Hannibal  to  Napoleon,  taking 
a  lower  place  in  the  councils  of  such  a  sovereign 
as  Charles  VII,  and  awaiting  the  pleasure  of  his 
craven  cowardice  instead  of  hustling  him  into 
instant  action.  But  Jeanne  was  not  a  military 
leader — she  was  a  prophetess  ;  and  prophetesses, 


JEANNE   D'ARC  113 

like  prophets,  can  do  nothing  for  people  who 
stone  them,  or  merely  turn  their  backs  on 
them. 

One  finds  a  sign  of  the  times  in  the  fact  that 
rival  prophetesses  arose,  and  that  Jeanne 
wrangled  with  them.  She  wrangled,  in  particu- 
lar, with  Catherine  de  la  Rochelle,  a  married 
woman,  who  claimed  to  have  miraculous  means 
of  procuring  her  "  wherewithal  to  pay  your 
men-at-arms."  "  Go  back  to  your  husband, 
look  after  your  husband,  and  feed  your  chil- 
dren," the  Maid  retorted.  There  was,  further, 
a  dispute  between  them  as  to  whether  the 
Matron  was,  or  was  not,  like  the  Maid,  visited 
in  the  watches  of  the  night  by  saints  and 
angels  ;  and  it  seems  that  the  gift  of  prophecy 
loses  some  of  its  significance  when  too  many 
share  it,  because  a  dispersed  faith  suffers  in 
intensity. 

The  fact  remains,  of  course,  that  the  Maid 
was  the  only  prophetess  who  counted ;  but  she 
counted  for  less  than  before,  because  prophecy 
itself  was  counting  for  less  than  before.  If 
there  were  times  when  she  still  gave  signs  and 
seemed  to  be  supernaturally  guided,  there  were 
also  times  when,  as  Andrew  Lang  puts  it,  she 
could  work  no  miracles  because  of  the  people's 
unbelief.  She  was  to  achieve  yet  again  at  the 
siege  of  Saint-Pierre-Le-Moustier,  where  she 
was  found  almost  alone  by  the  side  of  the  moat, 
after  the  others  had  retreated.  "  What  are 
you  doing  here  all  alone  ?  "  one  asked  her. 
8 


H4  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

/ 

'Why  do  you  not  retreat,  like  the  others?" 
Whereto  came  the  answer  of  the  mystic  : 

"  I  am  not  alone.  With  me  are  fifty  thou- 
sand of  my  folk.  I  will  not  quit  this  spot  until 
I  have  taken  the  town.  To  the  fascines  and  the 
hurdles,  all  of  you,  and  make  a  bridge!" 

She  was  obeyed  :  the  assault  was  made,  and 
the  town  was  taken.  But  at  the  siege  of  La 
Charit6  the  case  was  different.  The  beleaguer- 
ing army  fell  into  an  ambush,  and  came  to  grief  ; 
the  siege  was  raised,  and  the  cannon  were  left 
behind.  It  is  a  fact  not  altogether  without 
significance  that  the  Maid's  rival  prophetess, 
the  Matron,  Catherine  of  Rochelle,  had  advised 
against  the  enterprise.  "  It  is  too  cold,"  she 
had  said.  "  I  would  not  go  "  ;  and  the  warning, 
whether  wise  or  not,  may  have  helped  to  under- 
mine the  enthusiasm  which  alone  could  carry 
siege  operations  in  the  dead  of  winter  to  a  suc- 
cessful issue. 

'  A  period  of  inaction  followed.  There  was  a 
truce  with  Burgundy  ;  and  the  armies  went 
into  winter  quarters.  We  hear  of  the  Maid, 
some  time  between  Christmas  and  Easter,  being 
entertained  at  a  public  banquet  by  the  citizens 
of  Orleans,  and  buying  the  lease  of  a  house  in 
the  town.  But  presently  the  truces  ended,  and 
the  fighting  was  renewed.  One  of  the  Maid's 
fixed  ideas  was  that  she  would  only  "  last "  a 
year,  so  that  she  had  no  time  to  lose ;  and 
already  her  Voices  were  warning  her  that  the 


JEANNE  D'ARC  115 

end  was  near.  She  would  be  taken,  they  told 
her,  "  before  St.  John's  Day/1  which  was  only 
ten  weeks  ahead  of  her.  "  When  I  am  taken/' 
she  implored  them,  "  let  me  die  immediately 
without  suffering  long  "  ;  and  their  response 
was:  "  Be  not  troubled;  be  resigned!  God 
wi]l  help  thee  I'  Or  so  she  told  the  story  at  her 
trial,  adding  :  "  Often  I  asked  them  the  hour, 
but  that  they  did  not  tell  me.  If  I  had  known 
the  hour,  I  would  not  have  gone  into  battle." 

But  there  one  hesitates  to  believe  her,  be- 
lieving rather  that,  even  in  the  face  of  such  a 
premonition,  she  would  have  proved  to  be  braver 
than  she  knew. 

It  was  in  the  trenches  before  Melun  that  the 
warning,  as  she  supposed,  was  whispered  to 
her  ;  we  can  follow  her  thence  to  Lagny,  to 
Soissons,  to  Senlis,  to  Compiegne,  where  her 
last  fight  was  to  be  fought ;  but  the  tactical  de- 
tails need  not  trouble  us.  Enough  to  note  that 
Compiegne  was  a  strategic  point  dominating 
the  lie  de  France,  held  by  the  French  and 
threatened  by  the  Anglo-Burgundian  forces, 
arid  that  Jeanne  entered  its  gates  on  May  13. 
She  left  for  Soissons ;  but  Soissons  had  been 
sold  to  Burgundy  by  its  captain,  so  that  she  had 
to  return.  She  was  back  by  day-break  on 
May  23,  and,  at  five  o'clock  on  the  afternoon  of 
the  same  day  she  took  part  in  a  sortie,  attired 
as  if  on  a  parade,  with  a  surcoat  of  cloth  of  gold 
over  her  armour. 

All  that  was  intended  was  a  raid  upon  an  out- 


n6  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

post ;  but  the  raiders  stayed  too  long — whether 
to  destroy  the  works  or  to  gather  in  the  booty. 
Reinforcements  came  up,  and  they  were  driven 
back.  The  retreat  ceased  to  be  orderly  ;  and 
the  drawbridge  was  raised,  and  the  portcullis 
lowered,  in  order  that  the  pursuers  might  not 
follow  on  the  heels  of  the  pursued,  and  rush  the 
town.  The  Maid,  whom  a  Burgundian  chroni- 
cler admits  to  have  been  doing  deeds  "beyond 
the  nature  of  a  woman/*  found  herself  in  the 
marshes,  with  her  retreat  cut  off.  Not  till  the 
very  end  did  she  understand  what  was  happen- 
ing. Even  when  her  companions  urged  her  to 
get  back  to  the  town,  she  still  shouted,  "  For- 
ward !  Forward !  We  have  them ! "  But, 
even  as  she  did  so,  she  was  pulled  to  the  ground 
by  her  cloak,  and  found  that  her  enemies  had 
surrounded  her,  and  were  calling  upon  her  to 
surrender.  Whether  she  did  surrender  or  was 
taken  matters  little,  though  the  point  has  been 
disputed  fiercely.  She  lay  helpless,  and  was 
too  valuable  a  prize  to  be  slain  if  she  could  be 
captured. 

That  was  the  end  of  Jeanne's  career  in  arms  ; 
the  rest  is  pitiful  to  read  about — a  shame  equally 
to  France,  to  Burgundy,  and  to  England  ;  and 
our  relation  of  it  shall  be  as  brief  as  may  be. 
We  have  first  to  see  how  Jeanne  was  offered  for 
sale  by  her  captor,  Jean  de  Luxembourg,  who 
took  her  to  his  castle  at  Beaulieu,  and  how  her 
friends  stood  by  while  her  enemies  drove  the 
bargain ;  and  that,  though  prayers  were  being 


JEANNE   D'ARC  117 

offered  for  her  in  half  the  towns  of  France,  and 
the  appeal  was  addressed  to  the  King  of  France 
himself  by  that  Archbishop  of  Embrun  whom  we 
have  already  seen  recommending  that  the  Maid 
should  be  given  her  fair  chance  of  proving  that 
God  had  indeed  sent  her  to  the  rescue : 

"  I  commend  unto  you/1  he  wrote,  "  that,  for 
the  recovery  of  this  damsel,  and  for  her  ransome, 
ye  spare  neither  measures  nor  money,  nor  any 
cost,  unless  you  would  incur  the  indelible  dis- 
grace of  a  most  unworthy  ingratitude/' 

The  Archbishop  might  as  well  not  have 
written,  for  the  King  did  not  mind  disgrace,  and 
did  mind  spending  money  otherwise  than  on 
royal  favourites.  He  was  the  poorest  of  poor 
creatures,  unstable  as  water,  ready  to  flow  this 
way  or  that,  in  compliance  with  any  kind  of 
doctrine  or  any  tide  of  tendency.  The  wind  of 
doctrine  had  shifted,  and  was  blowing  against 
Jeanne ;  Regnault  de  Chartres,  Archbishop  of 
Chartres,  was  blowing  the  bellows. 

His  motives  are  impenetrable,  save  by  con- 
jecture. He  certainly  owed  to  Jeanne  his 
restoration  to  his  see  and  its  revenues — that 
march  to  Reims,  on  which  the  Maid  insisted, 
had  served  his  interests  no  less  than  it  had 
served  the  King's.  But  it  is  also  clear  that  he 
had  some  quarrel  with  her,  and  perhaps  some 
jealousy  of  her.  There  is  a  story — it  cannot 
either  be  proved  or  disproved — that  he  had  tried 
to  steal  a  crown  at  the  time  of  the  coronation, 


n8  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

and  that  she  had  prevented  him.  At  all  events, 
while  the  people  were  praying  for  Jeanne  the 
Archbishop  produced  a  substitute  for  her,  and 
"ran"  that  substitute,  as  we  moderns  say, 
against  her. 

There  had  appeared  a  certain  half-witted 
shepherd-boy  of  Gevaudan,  in  the  Cevennes, 
claiming,  just  as  Jeanne  had  claimed,  that  he 
had  been  sent  by  God  to  smite  the  English  and 
the  Burgundians  hip  and  thigh.  He  had  shown 
a  sign — the  stigmata  in  his  hands,  and  feet,  and 
side ;  he  had  spoken,  not  only  against  the 
Burgundians  and  the  English,  but  also  against 
the  Maid  : 

"  God  suffered  Jeanne  to  be  taken/'  he  said, 
"  because  she  was  puffed  up  with  pride,  and 
because  of  the  rich  clothes  she  wore,  and 
because  she  had  not  done  as  God  commanded 
her,  but  according  to  her  own  will.1' 

The  Archbishop  repeated  that  comment  in  a 
communication  to  the  people  of  his  diocese,  and 
added  comments  of  his  own ;  that  Jeanne  had 
been  overtaken  by  misfortune  through  her  own 
fault — because  she  "  would  not  take  advice, 
but  did  as  she  chose  "  ;  that  God  had  raised  up 
in  her  stead  this  shepherd,  who  "  said  neither 
more  nor  less  than  Jeanne."  The  letter  is  a 
curious  medley  of  cynicism  and  superstition  ; 
and  the  half-witted  shepherd  never  did  any- 
thing to  justify  the  belief  professed  in  him.  In 
the  fighting  men,  at  all  events,  he  inspired  no 


JEANNE  D'ARC  119 

faith  at  all ;  and  it  was  not  long  before  the 
English  caught  him,  and,  disdaining  even  to 
give  him  a  trial,  simply  sewed  him  up  in  a  sack 
and  pitched  him  into  the  Seine.  But  mean- 
while, as  those  who  should  have  been  her 
friends  did  nothing  for  her,  Jeanne's  fate  was 
sealed.  Just  as  an  Archbishop  had  turned  his 
back  on  her,  so  a  Bishop  bought  her  for  the  burn- 
ing ;  the  infamous  Pierre  Cauchon,  Bishop  of 
Beauvais. 

By  what  arguments  Jean  de  Luxembourg  was 
persuaded  to  accept  the  price  of  blood  ;  how 
Jeanne  was  taken  from  prison  to  prison,  and 
ultimately  brought  before  an  ecclesiastical  tri- 
bunal at  Rouen ;  how  her  ecclesiastical  judges 
bullied  her  in  the  dock,  and  tried  to  entrap  her 
into  unwary  answers  ;  how  she  bravely  refused 
to  deny  either  her  King  or  her  Voices ;  how  she 
was  coerced  into  the  abjuration  of  her  deeds, 
and  then  seized  again,  and  retried,  and  con- 
victed, and  sentenced, — all  these  things, 
happily,  may  be  left  to  be  read  elsewhere.  It 
is  a  story  of  shame  as  well  as  pity — shame  for 
the  soldiers,  shame  for  the  statesmen,  shame, 
above  all,  for  the  ecclesiastics.  One  realises, 
when  reading  it,  that  it  was  the  Church  which 
set  the  Revolution  the  example  of  "  devouring 
its  own  children"  ;  and  it  devoured  them 'far 
more  cruelly. 

It  would  seem  that  the  Maid  weakened  at  last 
under  the  stress  of  the  terror.  It  is  recorded 
that  she  shrieked  and  tore  her  hair,  crying  out : 


120  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

"  Rather  would  I  be  seven  times  beheaded  than 
thus  burned  !  "  She  would  have  been  more 
than  human  if  she  had  not ;  it  is  not  to  secular, 
but  to  sacred  history  that  one  turns  to  find  the 
parallel : 

"  And  He  was  withdrawn  from  about  a  stone's 
cast,  and  kneeled  down,  and  prayed, 

''Saying,  Father,  if  Thou  be  willing,  remove 
this  cup  from  Me :  nevertheless,  not  My  will 
but  Thine,  be  done. 

"  And  there  appeared  an  angel  unto  Him 
from  heaven  strengthening  Him." 

To  Jeanne  also  ;  one  needs  no  proof — one 
need  commit  oneself  to  no  mythology — in  order 
to  believe  that.  Faith,  as  the  word  is  too  often 
lightly  used  in  pulpits,  means  little  more  than 
the  rendering  of  lip-service  to  formulae;  but 
there  is  also  a  mystical  faith  which  creates  the 
help  in  which  it  puts  its  trust. 

Jeanne's  faith  was  of  that  order.  This  is  the 
last  recorded  dialogue  in  which  we  hear  her 
Voice : 

"  Master  Pierre,  where  I  shall  be  this  even- 
ing ?  " 

"  Have  you  not  good  faith  in  the  Lord  ?  ' 
"  I  have,  and  by  God's  grace  I  shall  be  in 
Paradise." 

And  so  to  the  last  scene  of  the  pilgrimage, 
whereat  the  flames  of  Rouen,  no  less  than  the 
flames  of  Smithfield,  lighted  a  candle  which  was 


JEANNE  D'ARC 


121 


never  to  be  put  out.  One  turns  from  the  spec- 
tacle with  averted  eyes,  lingering  only  to  listen 
to  the  cry  wrung  from  the  executioner  after  he 
had  done  his  work  :  ' '  Sadly  I  fear  that  we  have 
burnt  a  saint " — a  cry  which  boded  no  good  to 
the  success  of  English  arms  in  France. 


CHAPTER   XII 

False  Maids  arise  after  Jeanne's  death — Jeanne  des  Armoises — The 
Maid  of  Sarmaize — The  Maid  of  Le  Mans — Other  women 
fighters — Isabeau  de  Lorraine — Marguerite  de  Bressieux — 
Jeanne  Hachette — The  Lady  of  Bretigny. 

IT  has  been  shown  that  Jeanne  d'  Arc  was  neither 
the  only  saint  nor  the  only  woman  included  in  the 
armies  of  the  King  of  France.  Some  of  the  others 
have  been  named.  It  would  not  be  worth  while 
to  charge  the  memory  with  the  names  of  all  of 
them.  Historians  speak  of  a  "  flying  squadron  ' ' 
of  b£guines,  guided,  spiritually  and  otherwise, 
by  Brother  Richard,  the  popular  preacher,  who 
denounced  the  fashionable  levities  of  the  day. 
There  was  the  Maid  Pierronne,  for  example,  who 
claimed  that  God  had  appeared  to  her  "  in  a 
long  white  robe  and  a  purple  cloak."  Like 
Jeanne,  she  was  taken,  and,  like  Jeanne,  she 
was  burnt ;  but  her  name  is  not  glorified  by 
memorable  legends,  though  she  had  the  courage 
to  go  to  the  stake,  refusing  to  recant.  It  seems 
a  caprice  of  history  that  she  should  have 
been  thus  forgotten ;  but  one  infers  from  the 
dearth  of  legend  concerning  her  that  she  must 
have  lacked,  like  the  half-witted  shepherd  of 
Gevaudan,  the  inspiring  gift  of  personality ; 

122 


JEANNE   DES  ARMOISES          123 

and  so,  when  she  disappeared  from  the  French 
ranks,  her  fame  was  quickly  blotted  out. 

Jeanne's  fame,  on  the  contrary,  was  to  grow 
and  grow,  with  one  inevitable  consequence. 
Though  her  body  had  been  burnt  there  were 
those  who  could  not,  or  would  not,  believe  that 
she  was  really  dead,  but  insisted  that  some 
miracle  must  have  preserved  her,  and  that 
she  would  reappear.  So  that  the  field  was 
clear  for  impostors,  conscious  and  unconscious  ; 
and  the  demand  for  impostors  brought  forth 
a  supply.  False  Maids — who,  in  fact,  were  no 
more  Maids  than  they  were  from  Domremy — 
cropped  up  at  intervals  in  the  land. 

The  most  famous  of  them  was  Jeanne  des 
Armoises.  She  was  recognised  by  the  Maid's 
brothers,  and  also  by  Jeanne  de  Luxembourg, 
the  cousin  of  that  Jean  de  Luxembourg  who  had 
sold  the  Maid  to  the  unspeakable  Bishop  of 
Beauvais  :  a  devout  woman  who  wished  to 
obliterate  the  black  memory  of  her  cousin's 
baseness.  The  Maid's  eldest  brother  went  to 
Orleans  to  announce  his  sister's  return,  and 
received  a  material  reward  for  his  good  tidings — 
"  ten  pints  of  wine,  twelve  hens,  two  goslings, 
and  two  leverets."  He  also  announced  her  to 
the  King,  who  promised  him  a  reward  of  one 
hundred  francs,  and  actually  gave  him  twenty. 
A  proposed  memorial  service  for  the  Maid  was 
cancelled  in  consequence  of  the  news. 

Events  progressed  slowly  ;    but  those  were 
days  when  people  were  often  content  to  wait 


124  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

very  patiently  upon  events.  Her  hour,  it  was 
understood,  was  coming,  but  had  not  yet  come  ; 
and  patience  was  actually  exercised  while  the 
alleged  Maid  married  and  bore  two  children. 
She  maintained — and  most  people,  though  not 
all,  were  willing  to  believe  her — that  her  value 
did  not  depend  upon  her  virginity.  When  she 
came  at  last  to  Orleans,  Orleans  entertained 
her  at  a  public  banquet  and  presented  her  with 
11  two  hundred  and  ten  livres  of  Paris  as  an 
acknowledgment  of  the  services  she  had  ren- 
dered to  the  town  during  the  siege."  In  the 
years  of  1438  and  1439  we  find  her  fighting  for 
France  in  the  marches  of  Poitou  and  Guienne, 
and  appealing,  not  in  vain,  to  Spain  for  the  help 
of  a  fleet.  The  Marechal  de  Rais  placed  her 
in  authority — just  such  authority  as  Jeanne 
had  exercised — over  the  men-at-arms.  But 
her  end,  nevertheless,  was  melancholy,  though 
somewhat  less  than  tragic. 

Faith  in  her  had  never  been  so  profound  or 
so  widespread  as  the  faith  in  the  Maid  ;  and 
though  she  had  fought,  she  had  no  outstanding 
achievements  to  her  credit.  Though  the  popu- 
lace— or  a  provincial  section  of  it — believed 
in  her,  the  clergy  did  not ;  but  it  is  quite  idle 
to  inquire  why  the  mediaeval  clergy  believed  in 
one  thing  rather  than  another.  At  any  rate, 
when  the  King  reoccupied  Paris  in  1440,  they 
treated  her  as  an  impostor  and  compelled  her  to 
confess  that  she  was  one.  She  was  placed,  in 
the  character  of  an  impostor,  on  a  cold  marble 


FALSE  MAIDS  125 

slab  in  the  Hall  of  Justice,  and  preached  at. 
Then  she  was  told  to  get  up  and  go  ;  and  history 
knows  her  no  more. 

But  there  were  still  other  false  Maids  to 
arise  :  the  Maid  of  Sarmaize,  and  also  the  Maid 
of  Le  Mans. 

Who  the  former  was  no  one  really  appears  to 
know.  She  came,  as  it  were,  from  nowhere, 
and  proposed  to  play  a  game  of  tennis  with 
Simon  Fauchard,  the  cure  of  Notre-Dame-de- 
Sarmaize.  He  accepted  her  challenge,  and,  in 
the  midst  of  the  game,  she  said  to  him  :  "  Now 
you  may  tell  all  the  world  that  you  have  played 
tennis  with  the  Maid."  Then  she  went  to  the 
house  of  Perinet,  the  carpenter,  to  whom  she 
said  :  "  I  am  the  Maid  ;  I  have  come  to  visit 
my  cousin  Henri."  The  cousin  invited  her  to 
stay  in  the  house,  and  set  good  cheer  before 
her.  Afterwards  she  seems  to  have  wandered 
through  Anjou,  giving  out  that  she  was  Jeanne 
and  persuading  some  people  to  believe  her. 
Perhaps  it  was  little  more  than  a  case  of  obtain- 
ing food,  lodging,  and  consideration  by  means 
of  false  pretences.  It  would  also  appear,  how- 
ever, that,  in  the  course  of  her  wanderings,  she 
obtained  a  husband  ;  and  there  exists  a  docu- 
ment, dated  February  3,  1456,  according  her 
permission  to  return  to  Saumur,  on  condition 
that  she  would  dress  as  a  woman  and  live  in 
obedience  to  the  prescriptions  of  respectability. 

And  then  there  was  the  Maid  of  Le  Mans, 
whose  real  name  was  Jeanne  La  Ferone.  She 


126  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

impressed  her  Bishop  with  the  belief  that  she 
was  divinely  inspired  ;  and  he  commended  her 
in  many  letters.  There  was  some  idea  that  she 
might  be  helpful  to  the  King,  who  was  suffering 
from  an  ulcer  in  the  leg.  Officers  were  sent  to 
Le  Mans  to  examine  her,  and  she  gave  them  a 
message  for  the  King  : 

"  Commend  me  very  humbly  to  the  King, 
and  bid  him  recognise  the  grace  which  God  has 
granted  him  by  lightening  the  burdens  of  his 
people. " 

It  was  a  way  of  demanding  a  reduction  of  the 
taxes  at  a  time  when  the  Treasury  was  empty. 
That  may  be  one  of  the  reasons  why  this  Maid 
was  summoned  before  the  Royal  Council  to  be 
examined  further  ;  and  it  may  also  be  one  of 
the  reasons  why  the  examination  had  unsatis- 
factory results  for  her.  It  transpired,  at  any 
rate,  that  she  was  no  maid,  but  a  baggage ; 
and  the  ecclesiastical  court  condemned  her  to 
be  preached  at  in  public  in  the  towns  of  Le 
Mans,  Tours,  and  Laval,  to  wear  a  fool's-cap 
during  the  sermon,  and  then  to  be  imprisoned 
for  a  term  of  seven  years  on  a  diet  of  bread  and 
water.  She  endured  the  penance,  and  then 
found  a  new  avocation  more  suited  to  her 
character. 

So  much — and  perhaps  it  is  more  than  enough 
— of  the  saints  and  prophetesses  of  our  period. 
It  remains  to  speak  of  a  few  other  women  who, 
at  the  same  time,  wielded  the  sword,  without 


ISABEAU  DE  LORRAINE          127 

setting  up  any  supernatural  pretensions.  The 
great  names  are  those  of  Isabeau  de  Lorraine, 
Marguerite  de  Bressieux,  and, — after  the  lapse 
of  an  interval — Jeanne  Hachette,  and  a  certain 
Dame  de  Bretigny. 

Isabeau  de  Lorraine  was  the  wife  of  the 
famous  Ren6  of  Anjou,  and  the  mother  of  that 
Margaret  of  Anjou  who  was  to  marry  our 
Henry  VI,  and  become  equally  renowned  in 
arts  and  arms — to  found  colleges,  and  to  win 
battles.  It  was  the  mother  who  set  the  daugh- 
ter the  example  of  taking  the  field  on  a  help- 
less husband's  behalf.  King  Ren6  inherited 
the  kingdom  of  Sicily  while  his  enemies  held 
him  in  prison ;  and  Isabeau  set  out  for  Sicily 
in  1435,  to  fight  for  his  kingdom  in  his  place. 

'  This  veritable  Amazon/ '  writes  Etienne 
Pasquier,  "  who  had  a  man's  heart  in  a 
woman's  breast,  did  so  many  noble  deeds 
during  her  husband's  imprisonment  that  her 
achievements  ought  to  be  inscribed  in  letters 
of  gold  in  the  annals  of  Lorraine." 

Marguerite  de  Bressieux  was  also  of  Anjou, 
but  she  took  the  field  in  order  to  avenge  a 
wrong  which  she  herself  had  suffered.  Her 
father's  castle  had  been  taken  by  storm  by 
Louis  de  Chalons,  Prince  of  Orange ;  and  she 
herself,  as  well  as  other  maidens,  had  endured 
the  last  insult  at  the  hands  of  a  brutal  soldiery. 
That  is  how  it  came  about  that,  when  the  royal 
troops,  under  Raoul  de  Gaucourt,  Governor 


128  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

of  Dauphine,  were  marching  against  Louis  de 
Chalons,  twelve  strange  and  mysterious  cava- 
liers, attired  in  black,  wearing  scarfs  of  crape, 
and  carrying  a  banner  which  bore  the  device 
of  an  orange  transfixed  by  a  lance  and  the 
motto  Ainsi  tu  seras,  greeted  the  general  with 
ceremonious  salutations  : 

"  Deign,  noble  lord,  to  accord  us  a  place  in 
your  ranks.  If  our  arms  are  weak,  our  hearts 
are  strong,  and  bent  upon  nothing  but  ven- 
geance. Victims  of  the  most  cowardly,  the 
most  degrading  outrage,  we  aspire  to  wash  it 
out  in  blood. " 

Raoul  de  Gaucourt  would  seem  to  have  been 
quite  modern  in  his  protestations.  War,  he 
said,  was  a  man's  rough  trade,  and  no  game 
for  girls  to  play  at.  If  they  did  play  at  it, 
they  might  be  hurt — no  one  could  say  how 
badly.  But  the  girls  knew  all  about  that,  and 
were  taking  risks  with  their  eyes  open.  In- 
sisting, they  were  enrolled  in  the  French 
King's  army  ;  and  they  had  no  patience  with 
the  chivalrous  desire  of  the  general  and  the 
other  officers  always  to  keep  them  from  actual 
contact  with  the  enemy. 

At  the  battle  of  Autun  they  got  their  chance, 
and  proved  their  worth.  They  uncovered  their 
faces  to  charge ;  and  those  who  had  wronged 
them  recognised  them,  and  took  them,  in  their 
superstition,  for  the  troubled  spirits  of  the  dead, 
returning  to  earth  for  their  discomfiture.  WTith 


JEANNE  HACHETTE  129 

the  result  that  the  rout  was  complete,  and  the 
peasants  finished  with  their  pitch-forks  those 
of  the  enemy  who  could  not  swim  the  Rhone. 
But  Marguerite's  first  battle  was  also  her  last. 
She  was  picked  up,  mortally  wounded,  after 
the  charge,  and,  dying  before  sunset,  was 
buried  with  military  honours. 

Jeanne  Hachette's  exploit  belongs  to  a  date 
some  forty  years  later,  when  Charles  VII  was 
dead,  and  Louis  XI  was  ending  the  Middle  Age 
by  breaking  up  the  feudal  system.  The  most 
powerful  of  Louis's  enemies  was  Charles  the 
Bold,  of  Burgundy — he  whom  the  Swiss  ultim- 
ately broke  at  Morat,  Grandson,  and  Nancy  ; 
and  Charles  came,  in  1472,  to  lay  siege  to 
Beauvais,  the  town  of  the  Bishop  who  had 
caused  Jeanne  d'Arc  to  be  done  to  death.  If 
Beauvais  fell,  Paris  itself  would  be  in  danger, 
and  the  assailants  numbered  no  less  than 
80,000  ;  so  the  women  helped  the  men  to 
defend  the  walls,  and  Jeanne  Fourquet,  spinster, 
found  herself  famous  among  women.  In 
the  great  assault  she  felled  the  Burgundian 
standard-bearer  with  an  axe  and  took  his 
standard  from  him.  Whence  the  name  by 
which  men  know  her  :  a  name  which  a  statue 
at  Beauvais  still  keeps  alive. 

The  King  sent  for  Jeanne  and  complimented 
her  and  all  the  women  of  Beauvais,  and  accorded 
them  certain  honourable  and  material  privi- 
leges. Thenceforward,  he  said,  the  women  of 
Beauvais  should  have  the  right  to  walk  before 
9 


130  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

the  men  in  the  procession  of  Ste.  Agrademe, 
and  to  wear,  whatever  their  degree,  such  gor- 
geous apparel  as  they  thought  most  becoming, 
without  reference  to  the  sumptuary  laws 
which  bound  other  women  elsewhere.  As  for 
Jeanne  herself,  both  she  and  her  husband,  when 
she  married,  should  be  exempted,  thenceforth 
and  for  ever,  from  the  payment  of  all  taxes. 
So,  being  very  eligible,  Jeanne  married  twice,— 
her  first  husband,  one  Colin  Pilon,  being  killed 
at  Nancy  in  1477  ;  and,  as  late  as  the  reign 
of  Charles  X,  we  find  a  certain  Pierre  Fourquet 
Hachette,  drawing  a  pension  from  the  King  in 
consideration  of  the  gallant  exploit  of  his 
ancestress. 

And  that  brings  us,  in  conclusion,  to  Madame 
de  Bretigny,  who,  though  she  did  not  fight, 
nevertheless  rendered  a  valuable  service.  She 
caught  the  Bishop,  who  was  trying  to  sneak  out 
of  the  town,  taking  his  valuables  with  him  ; 
and  she  stopped  his  exit.  "  Shut  the  gate  !  ): 
she  called.  "  Shut  the  gate !  The  Bishop  is 
trying  to  run  away  "  ;  and  she  seized  the  bridle 
of  the  Bishop's  horse,  and  recalled  the  Bishop 
to  his  duty.  "  Stay,  Bishop  !  '  she  said. 
"  You  have  always  lived  with  us,  and  now  you 
must  remain  and  die  with  us,  if  needs  be!  ' 
And  the  Bishop  had  to  stop. 


CHAPTER   XIII 

End  of  the  Middle  Age — Wars  of  the  Roses — Queen  Margaret — 
Her  exploits  in  the  field — Her  abdication  and  sorrowful  old 
age. 

THE  precise  date  of  the  end  of  the  Middle  Age 
depends  upon  the  taste  and  fancy  of  the  chrono- 
logist.  All  historians,  however,  would  agree 
in  fixing  it  some  time  in  the  long  reign  of 
Henry  VI — some  time  after  Henry's  attain- 
ment of  his  majority,  and  perhaps  some  time 
after  the  accession  of  Louis  XI  to  the  throne  of 
France.  One  of  the  things  which  belonged  to 
the  Middle  Age,  and  perished  with  it,  was 
the  feudal  system.  Louis  destroyed  that  system 
in  France  by  breaking  the  power  of  the  great 
feudal  lords ;  while,  in  England,  the  great 
feudal  lords  destroyed  each  other,  like  the  cats 
(of  Kilkenny)  in  the  adage,  in  the  long  and 
bloody  Wars  of  the  Roses.  And  the  great 
figure  of  those  wars,  for  the  purposes  of  this 
book,  is  obviously  Margaret  of  Anjou,  King 
Henry's  consort. 

She  was  not,  of  course,  the  first  Queen  of 
England  to  play  a  man's  part  in  a  civil  war. 
We  all  learnt  at  school  how  Matilda,  the  mother 
of  Henry  II,  fought  for  the  crown  against 

131 


132  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

Stephen,  and  was  beleaguered  by  Stephen  in 
the  old  Norman  castle  which  still  stands  at 
Oxford,  and  had  to  escape  as  best  she  could. 
The  Chronicle  of  Abingdon  tells  us  that  "  they 
let  her  down  at  night  from  the  tower  with  ropes, 
and  she  stole  out,  and  went  on  foot  to  Walling- 
ford."  From  school,  too,  we  carried,  or  ought 
to  have  carried  away,  the  knowledge  that 
Isabelle,  daughter  of  Philippe  le  Bel,  of  France, 
and  wife  of  Edward  II  of  England,  took  up 
arms  against  her  husband  and  his  favourites, 
and  was  afterwards  sent  to  a  nunnery  by  her 
son,  Edward  III,  in  order  that  she  might  cause 
no  further  trouble.  Remarkable  women,  both 
of  them,  no  doubt ;  but  Queen  Margaret  cuts 
both  a  more  glorious  and  a  more  pathetic  figure. 
We  have  met  her  already,  or,  at  all  events, 
we  have  met  her  mother,  the  fighting  consort 
of  the  luckless  King  Rene  ;  and  the  daughter 
was  with  the  mother  at  the  time  of  her  campaign 
for  her  husband's  Sicilian  kingdom.  At  the 
time  of  her  marriage  all  the  omens  seemed 
prosperous ;  but  those  omens  were  to  prove 
deceptive.  King  Henry  was  a  youth  of  great 
charm  of  character,  most  amiable  and  most 
cultivated,  though,  as  it  turned  out,  unequal  to 
the  rough  task  before  him  ;  he  desired  to  live 
at  peace  with  all  the  world,  and  his  bride  was 
the  pledge  of  peace.  But  there  was  to  be  little 
peace  in  his  time  or  hers  :  there  were  too  many 
of  those  outstanding,  unsolved  problems  which 
bring  about  "  inevitable  "  wars. 


QUEEN   MARGARET  133 

There  was,  to  begin  with,  the  outstanding 
problem  of  the  English  occupation  of  French 
territory.  Others  had  to  follow  the  plough 
to  which  Jeanne  d'Arc  had  set  her  hand ;  and 
there  could  be  no  enduring  peace  between 
France  and  England  until  France  was  definitely 
French.  And  then,  of  course,  there  was  the 
problem  of  English  distress  and  discontent 
which  brought  Jack  Cade  to  London,  where  he 
arrogated,  and  for  a  brief  space  exercised,  the 
right  of  chopping  off  the  heads  of  the  illustrious  ; 
and  then  there  was  the  long  duel,  so  sanguinary 
and  so  calamitous,  between  the  Houses  of 
Lancaster  and  York.  Those  were  to  be  the 
salient  events  of  the  reign  of  a  King  and  Queen 
of  literary,  artistic,  and  religious  tastes  :  the 
founders  of  King's  and  Queens'  colleges  at 
Cambridge — the  task  of  Queen  Margaret  being 
completed  by  Edward  IV's  consort,  Queen 
Elizabeth,  who  had  been  one  of  her  retinue.' 
The  arms  of  Queens'  are  still  the  arms  of  Anjou 
—its  quarterings  including  the  arms  of  the 
kingdoms  of  Hungary,  the  two  Sicilies,  Jeru- 
salem, the  county  of  Anjou,  and  the  Duchies 
of  Bar  and  Lorraine. 

Poor  Henry,  as  we  know,  was  quite  unfit  to 
cope  with  the  troubles  which  circumstances 
interposed  between  him  and  the  life  of  pious 
and  cultivated  ease  to  which  he  aspired ;  but 
Queen  Margaret  had  the  energy  which  he  lacked. 
She  raised  armies,  rode  with  them,  and,  at 
times,  even  directed  them  ;  she  passed  to  and 


134  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

fro  across  the  Channel,  seeking  help  in  France 
and  bringing  it  to  England.  She  did  not  hesi- 
tate to  disobey  commands  which  the  Duke  of 
York  sent  to  her  in  the  King's  name,  saying  : 
"  If  I  were  to  obey  him,  the  day  would  come 
when  he  would  be  very  angry  with  me  for  having 
done  so."  She  advanced  to  Waken  eld,  and 
showed  a  great  talent  for  military  tactics,  so 
arranging  her  host  as  to  catch  the  Duke  of 
York's  advance  guard  "  like  a  fish  entangled  in 
a  net."  The  Duke  fell  in  the  fight,  and  his 
head,  encircled  with  a  paste-board  crown,  was 
placed  as  a  decoration  on  the  walls  of  York. 

A  work  like  this,  however,  must  not  let  itself 
be  resolved  into  a  precis  of  English  history. 
Marches  and  counter-marches,  victories  and 
defeats,  exile,  return,  and  the  renewal  of  exile 
—battles  of  St.  Albans,  Blore  Heath,  North- 
ampton, Wakefield,  Towton,  Tewkesbury,  Hex- 
ham,  Barnet  :  these  incidents,  spread  out  over 
a  period  of  some  twenty  years,  may  be  studied 
in  many  books  of  which  the  most  recommend- 
able,  perhaps,  is  Professor  Oman's  Life  of 
Warwick  the  King-maker.  Queen  Margaret's 
cause,  like  the  cause  of  the  Maid  of  France,  was 
to  triumph  in  the  end,  but  not  until  after  her 
death.  Another  Lancastrian  was  to  come  into 
his  own,  if  we  may  so  call  it  without  seeming  to 
take  a  side,  at  the  battle  of  Bosworth  Field  ; 
but  Queen  Margaret  had  meanwhile  suffered 
all  the  pangs  of  disappointed  hope. 

Her  father,  King  Rene,  would  have  liked  to 


QUEEN   MARGARET  135 

lielp  her,  but  could  not  :  the  sentimentalists, 
nevertheless,  made  it  a  grievance  against  him 
that  he  did  not.  His  own  troubadour  sang 
scorn  at  him  in  his  own  hall  : 

"  Awake,  King  Rene,  awake !  Suffer  not 
your  soul  to  be  subdued  by  grief.  Your 
daughter,  the  wife  of  King  Henry,  now  weeps, 
and  now  kneels  in  piteous  entreaty,  but  still 
contrives  to  smile/' 

Truly  a  daring  ballad  for  a  troubadour  to 
sing,  and  a  sorry  one  for  a  king  to  have  to  listen 
to — especially  if  he  was  not  the  only  listener. 
But  Rene  nevertheless  loved  his  daughter,  and, 
though  he  could  not  take  the  field  for  her, 
secured  her  deliverance  from  captivity.  We 
have  a  letter  which  he  wrote  her  at  a  time  when 
she  was  a  widow  and  a  prisoner,  first  in  the 
Tower  and  afterwards  in  English  country- 
houses  : 

"  My  child,  may  God  help  thee  with  His 
counsels,  for  rarely  is  the  aid  of  man  tendered 
in  such  reverse  of  fortune.  When  thou  canst 
spare  a  thought  from  thy  own  misfortunes, 
think  of  mine  ;  they  are  great,  my  daughter, 
and  yet  I  would  fain  console  thee." 

Consolation  was  not  for  her  ;  but  Rene  ceded 
his  inheritance  of  Provence  to  Louis  XI  on 
condition  that  Louis  should  pay  the  ransom  of 
50,000  crowns  which  Edward  IV  demanded 
for  his  daughter,  and  so,  at  last,  Queen  Mar- 


136  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

garet  embarked  at  Sandwich  and  landed  at 
Dieppe.  She  was  the  daughter  of  a  King,  the 
widow  of  a  King,  and  the  cousin  of  Louis  XI, 
who  was  the  most  powerful  monarch  of  his 
time ;  but  she  had  fallen  so  low  that,  in  the 
act  of  abdication  which  she  had  to  sign,  she 
had  to  describe  herself,  not  as  a  Queen  who 
abandoned  royal  claims,  but  merely  as  a  widow 
who  renounced  her  title  to  any  inheritance 
from  her  husband  : 

"I,  Margaret,  formerly  married  in  the  king- 
dom of  England,  renounce  all  that  I  could  lay 
claim  to  in  England  by  the  conditions  of  my 
marriage,  with  all  my  other  possessions  there, 
to  Edward,  now  King  of  England/* 

And  so  to  the  place  of  exile,  which  she  did 
not  the  less  regard  as  a  place  of  exile  because 
France  was  her  native  land.  Louis  XI,  though 
he  had  ransomed  her,  for  a  consideration,  was 
no  true  friend,  and  showed  no  real  sympathy. 
It  did  not  suit  him,  for  political  reasons,  to  let 
her  come  to  Paris  to  thank  him  for  delivering 
her  :  he  provided,  instead,  an  escort  to  take 
her  to  her  father.  Her  proud  spirit  bade  her 
take  offence  and  decline  the  escort,  with  the 
result  that  she  narrowly  escaped  being  murdered 
on  her  way  through  Normandy. 

She  came  safely  through  that  final  peril, 
however,  and  reached  her  father's  castle,  at 
Reculee,  near  Angers,  whence  she  presently 
removed  to  the  castle  of  Dampierre,  near 


QUEEN   MARGARET  137 

Saumur.  Her  father,  being  a  poet,  and  also 
a  painter,  could  find  consolation  for  his  own 
sufferings  in  the  contemplation  and  creation  of 
beautiful  works  of  art — the  writing  of  verse, 
and  the  illumination  of  Books  of  Hours ;  but 
there  was  no  relief  in  that  anodyne  for  his 
daughter.  She  had  lived  too  active  and  agitated 
a  life  :  she  attached — unlike  Rene — too  great 
importance  to  the  things  which  she  had  lost, 
after  trying  hard  to  keep  them. 

She  was  a  broken  woman  :  broken  rather 
than  bent.  Louis  XI,  to  whom  Rene  com- 
mended her  on  his  death-bed,  promised  her  a 
pension,  but  often  forgot  to  pay  it,  so  that 
she  knew  narrow  circumstances,  if  not  actual 
poverty.  Her  pride  was  abased ;  her  health 
was  ruined;  and,  with  her  health,  her  beauty 
also  left  her.  The  prize  of  beauty  at  tourna- 
ments had  once  been  hers ;  but  now  the 
ravages  of  some  loathsome  skin  disease  began 
to  make  her  hideous.  Contemporary  writers 
speak  of  her  as  becoming,  in  the  end, 
a  spectacle  of  horror.  When  she  died,  in 
1482,  she  was  buried  in  Angers  cathedral  ; 
but  no  monument  was  erected  there  to  her 
memory,  beyond  a  portrait  on  a  stained  glass 
window.  She  was  only  fifty-two,  as  men  count 
time,  but  very,  very  old  in  trouble  and  mis- 
fortune ;  and  her  lot  was  the  more  pathetic 
because  it  took  historians  and  biographers  so 
long  to  realise  her  character  and  do  her  justice. 

With  her  death  we  are  definitely  and  unques- 


138  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

tionably  clear  of  the  Middle  Age.  We  shall 
not  meet  another  name  as  great  until,  nearly 
two  hundred  years  later,  we  come  to  that 
Mademoiselle  de  Montpensier  whom  history 
knows  as  La  Grande  Mademoiselle ;  but  there 
are  other  heroines  of  equal  courage,  albeit  of  less 
renown,  whose  exploits  must  be  first  reviewed. 
Those  religious  wars  which  rent  France  in  the 
sixteenth  century,  and  gave  Paris  to  Henri  IV 
at  the  price  of  a  mass,  brought  forth  a  crop  of 
them.  It  was  a  time  of  sieges ;  and  almost  every 
siege  produced  its  heroine  or  heroines.  The 
historians  speak  specially  of  the  heroines 
of  :  Marseilles,  Saint-Riquier,  Peronne,  Metz, 
Montelimar,  Poitiers,  La  Rochelle,  Sancerre, 
Livron,  Saint-L6,  Aubigny,  Cahors,  Lille,  Vitre, 
Autun,  Montauban,  Montpellier,  Lamotte,  Dole, 
and  Saint- Jean-de-Losne. 

A  long  list  truly  :  so  long  that  these  pages 
cannot  possibly  do  full  justice  to  all  the  exploits 
of  all  the  heroines  whose  memories  it  recalls. 
We  must  pick  and  choose  among  them,  recon- 
structing a  personality  where  we  can,  quoting 
Brantome,  as  often  as  Brantome  is  suitable  to 
quote. 


CHAPTER   XIV 

The  wars  of  religion  at  the  time  of  the  Reformation — Women  who 
helped  in  the  defence  of  besieged  cities — Ameliane  du  Puget — 
Jeanne  Maillotte — Others — Louise  Labe,  the  poetess — Kenau 
Hasselaar — Her  services  during  the  siege  of  Haarlem  by  the 
Spaniards. 

THERE  is  no  more  need  to  take  a  side  in  speaking 
of  the  wars  of  religion  than  in  speaking  of  the 
Wars  of  the  Roses.  Whatever  the  theological 
rights  of  the  case,  it  has  seldom  been  the  hair- 
splittings of  the  theologians  which  have  inspired 
women  to  take  up  arms.  The  thing  which  has 
fired  their  fury  has  been  the  menace  to  their 
homes  rather  than  the  menace  to  their  creeds. 
They  have  taken  part  in  the  defence  more  often 
than  in  the  attack  of  cities ;  and  one  can,  in 
consequence,  still  regard  them  as  womanly 
women  even  when  one  finds  them  wielding 
weapons  of  war.  There  is  a  long  list  of  them, 
beginning,  for  the  purposes  of  the  present 
chapter,  with  Ameliane  du  Puget  of  Marseilles, 
and  ending  with  Kenau  Hasselaar  of  Haarlem. 
Ameliane  du  Puget  (nee  de  Glandeves)  was 
the  daughter  of  the  Governor  and  Chief  Magis- 
trate of  Marseilles  ;  and  the  date  of  her  exploit 
was  1524,  when  the  Constable  de  Bourbon, 
being  at  war  with  his  King,  laid  siege  to  the 

139 


140  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

city.     The  Constable's  guns  breached  the  wall, 

and  his  men  came  pouring  through  the  breach. 

The  men  of  Marseilles  withstood  them  as  long 

as  they  could,  but  were  about  to  yield,  when, 

of  a  sudden,  they  received  a  reinforcement — a 

regiment  of  women  headed  by  their  Governor's 

daughter  ;    and  that  reinforcement  turned  the 

scale,   and   drove   the   assailants  back.     More 

regular  and  leisurely  siege  operations  were  then 

commenced ;    and  still  Mile  Ameliane  and  her 

company  found  work  to  do.     When  the  enemy 

mined,  they  counter-mined,  digging  what  was 

long  known  as  the  Tranchee  des  Dames,  in  the 

place   where   now   stands   the   Boulevard   des 

Dames.     It    is   pleasant    to   relate   that    Mile 

Ameliane's   heroism   won    her    a   proposal    of 

marriage,  and  that  she  accepted  it,  and  that 

her  husband,  Guillaume  du  Puget,  added  her 

name   to   his   and   called   himself   du    Puget- 

Glandeves  :  a  double-barrelled  name  which  has 

a  more  interesting  origin  than  most.     Let  those 

who  desire  to  know  more  hunt  out  Mile  de 

Grandpre's  novel,  Une  heroine.    They  will  read 

in  it  of   other   heroines  besides  Ameliane — to 

wit,  Gabrielle  and  Claire  de  Laval,  who  also 

raised  regiments  of  Amazons  for  the  defence  of 

the  Phocaean  city. 

In  1535  we  encounter  a  similar  story  of 
prowess  on  the  part  of  Marie  Fourre  and  other 
ladies  of  the  town  of  Saint-Riquier.  That  town 
had  only  a  garrison  of  100  men  when  the  Count 
of  Nassau  laid  siege  to  it  with  2,000  Flemish 


THE  COMTESSE  DE  LUDE  141 

veterans.  The  women  helped  in  the  defence, 
and  so  effectively  that  an  interesting  corre- 
spondence passed  between  the  Count  and  the 
Archduchess  from  whom  he  held  his  commission: 

"  I  am  astonished/'  the  Archduchess  wrote, 
"  to  see  that  you  are  so  long  in  taking  the  place. 
It  is,  I  understand,  nothing  more  than  a  dove- 
cote." 

"  Madam/'  the  Count  replied,  "it  is  true 
that  the  place  is  nothing  more  than  a  dove-cote  ; 
but  the  doves  within  it  are  exceedingly  difficult 
to  take.  The  female  doves  are  every  whit  as 
courageous  and  formidable  as  the  males." 

So  that  the  Count  had  to  raise  the  siege 
and  retire,  leaving  behind  him  a  standard  which 
had  been  taken  by  Marie-Fourre,  wife  of  M.  de 
Poix,  the  tax-collector,  and  a  worthy  successor 
of  Jeanne  Hachette  of  Beauvais. 

The  siege  of  Niort,  in  1559,  brought  out  the 
Comtesse  de  Lude,  of  whom  it  is  recorded  that, 
"  distressed  to  observe  that  the  captain  and 
his  men  were  inadequately  animated  by  martial 
ardour,  she  overwhelmed  those  who  had 
executed  a  retreat  with  the  bitterest  reproaches, 
and  promised  the  brave  that  she  would  give 
them,  as  the  reward  of  their  valour,  scarves 
embroidered  by  the  best-looking  ladies  in  the 
town":  an  incitement  to  valour  which  pro- 
duced the  desired  result,  and  compelled  the 
raising  of  the  siege.  And  then,  just  ten  years 


142  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

later,  the  siege  of  Montelimar  by  Admiral  Coligny 
brought  out  Marguerite  Delaye,  who  lost  an 
arm  in  the  fighting,  and  in  whose  honour  an 
armless  statue  was  erected  in  a  public  place. 

Sometimes,  though  not  always,  the  valour  of 
such  valiant  women  extorted  the  admiration 
and  compliments  even  of  their  enemies :  the 
valour  of  Marie  de  Brabancon  did  so.  With 
only  fifty  men  to  help  her,  she  defended  her 
castle  of  Benegon  against  a  beleaguering  force 
of  2,000  ;  but,  in  the  end,  she  was  taken  prisoner 
by  one  Montare,  and  held  to  ransom.  But 
Charles  IX  would  not  have  it  so.  "  He  sent 
strict  orders  to  Montare  and  the  other  captains 
not  to  accept  one  penny  of  ransom  from  this 
great-hearted  lady,  but  to  escort  her  back,  with 
all  honour,  to  the  castle  from  which  they  had 
taken  her,  and  to  give  her  her  liberty,  and  to 
excuse  her  from  carrying  out  any  of  her  pro- 


mises/' 


Charles  IX,  it  is  clear,  admired  Marie  de 
Brabancon  as  much  as  Henri  IV  admired 
Madeleine  de  Saint-Nectaire,  Comtesse  de  Mire- 
mont,  who,  in  1584,  commanded  a  company  of 
sixty  Huguenot  cavaliers — cavaliers  who,  writes 
that  gallant  Huguenot,  Agrippa  d'Aubigny, 
"  followed  her  flag  and  that  of  love  at  the  same 
time— every  one  of  them  being  passionately 
enamoured  of  her,  though  no  one  of  them  was 
even  able  to  boast  that  she  had  so  much  as  let 
him  kiss  her."  Whereat  the  Vert-Gallant  ex- 
claimed in  his  enthusiasm :  "  Venire  saint- 


THE  LADIES  OF  LIVRON         143 

gris !     If  I  were  not  King,  I  would  like  to  be 
Mile  de  Saint-Nectaire." 

The  ladies  of  Livron,  of  whom  we  will  speak 
next,  are  famous  for  the  way  in  which  they 
expressed  their  contempt  for  the  assailants  of 
their  town  :  they  took  their  work  up  on  to  the 
ramparts,  and  sat  there  with  their  knitting- 
needles  and  their  spinning-wheels,  to  show  that 
they  were  not  in  the  least  alarmed.  As  for  the 
ladies  of  La  Rochelle,  which  stood  a  siege  in 
1572,  we  cannot  do  better  than  observe  them 
through  the  eyes  of  Brantome  : 

"  Many  of  the  people  of  the  town/'  Brantome 
writes,  "  put  in  an  appearance  on  the  ramparts, 
and  on  the  walls.  Above  all,  there  were  seen 
there  about  one  hundred  ladies  of  good  condition, 
the  noblest,  the  richest,  the  fairest,  all  attired, 
from  head  to  foot,  in  white  garments,  of  fine 
Dutch  cloth,  which  made  them  very  beautiful 
to  look  upon.  They  were  thus  dressed  because 
they  were  at  work  on  the  fortifications,  digging 
trenches,  and  carrying  loads  of  earth.  Other 
clothes  would  have  been  both  soiled  and  dam- 
aged, but  these  only  needed  to  be  sent  to  the 
wash  ;  so  that  they  were  very  conspicuous  in 
them.  We  others  were  charmed  at  the  sight 
of  these  beautiful  ladies ;  and  some  of  us,  1 
assure  you,  found  it  more  amusing  than  any- 
thing else  that  was  going  on.  They  took  no 
pains  to  keep  out  of  sight,  but  were  quite  willing 
that  we  should  see  them  ;  for  they  came  to 


144  WOMEN  IN   WAR 

the  very  edge  of  the  rampart,  looking  so  beauti- 
ful and  elegant  that  one  desired,  not  only  to 
gaze  at  them,  but  to  embrace  them." 

Which  may  or  may  not  have  been  the  im- 
pression which  the  ladies  were  most  anxious 
to  produce.  There  is,  at  any  rate,  a  feminine 
note  in  the  story  ;  which  is  not  surprising, 
seeing  that  it  is  Brantome  who  tells  it.  And 
there  is  also  a  feminine  note  in  the  story  of 
Jeanne  Mailotte,  innkeeper  of  Lille,  in  whose 
house  of  refreshment  enemies  who  hoped  to 
take  the  town  by  surprise  and  loot  it  had 
arranged  their  rendezvous.  Jeanne,  overhear- 
ing their  conversation,  penetrated  their  designs, 
and  gave  the  alarm,  contributing  her  own 
very  important  share  to  their  discomfiture 
by  throwing  the  ashes  of  the  kitchen  fire  into 
their  eyes  while  they  were  looking  for  their 
weapons.  We  may  quote  from  an  old  poem 
which  enshrines  her  memory  : 

Mais  leur  hotesse,  en  vaillante  Amazone, 
Creniant  Dieu  createur  et  hainant  les  Hurlus, 

Centre  les  heretiques  alia  s'en  courir  sus, 

L'allebarde  entonstant  au  corps  de  leur  personne. 

But  what  to  say  about  Louise  Labe,  the 
poetess,  who  belongs  to  the  period  with  which 
we  are  dealing,  but  was  associated  with  the 
Renaissance  rather  than  the  Reformation,  which 
was,  in  the  view  of  many,  the  Renaissance  on 
its  religious  side  ? 

Certainly  it  is  not  as  a  woman  warrior  that 
Louise  Labe  is  most  famous.  Her  glory  depends 


LOUISE  LABE  145 

upon  her  poems,  her  culture,  and  her  beauty  ; 
and  it  is  as  la  belle  Cordiere — the  beautiful  wife 
of  the  rope-maker — that  the  world  has  decided 
to  remember  her.  She  presided  over  a  literary 
salon  at  Lyons, — the  birth-place  of  two  other 
eminent  salonilres,  Mile  de  Lespinasse,  and 
Mme  Recamier.  Still,  there  is  a  story  of  her 
having  ridden  out  to  war  and  taken  part  in  the 
siege  of  Perpignan,  in  the  reign  of  Francois  I. 
It  is  true  that  M.  Charles  Boy,  the  editor  of  her 
collected  works,  insists  that  she  never  took 
part  in  any  more  perilous  military  operation 
than  a  tournament ;  but  the  legend  is  rather 
well  accredited  that  she  went  campaigning 
under  the  nom  de  guerre  of  Captain  Loys.  A 
young  officer,  it  is  said,  turned  troubadour  for 
love  of  her,  and  sang  nightly  serenades  outside 
her  tent.  It  is  added  that  her  heart  was 
impenetrable  to  the  assault,  and  that  her 
lover,  despairing  of  her  favours,  went  to  the 
wars  in  Italy,  where  he  fell  in  battle. 

Perhaps  it  is  true :  there  is  a  couplet  in 
Louise  Labe's  works  which  the  memory  of  the 
incident  may  have  inspired : 

Mais  quoi  ?     Amour  ne  put  longuement  voir, 
Mon  coeur  n'aimant  que  Mars  et  le  savoir. 

Which  is  like  the  language  of  a  gifted,  but 
militant,  suffrage-seeker  from  the  Bedford 
College  for  Women,  but  is  flagrantly  at  variance 
with  common  report,  and  with  the  general  tone 
of  the  woman  warrior's  later  poetical  works. 
10 


146  WOMEN   IN    WAR 

For  common  report,  which  perhaps  only  repre- 
sents the  envy  and  malice  of  less  successful 
women,  speaks  of  Louise  Labe,  after  her  return 
from  the  tented  field,  as  passionate,  volatile,  and 
indifferent  to  the  prescriptions  of  propriety  ; 
while  she  herself  utters  what  has  all  the  air  of 
being  at  once  the  confession  and  the  justifica- 
tion of  a  fault : 

A  faire  gain  jamais  je  ne  soumis 

Mentir,  tromper,  et  abuser  autrui, 

Tant  m'a  deplu  que  de  medire  de  lui. 

Mais  si  en  moi  rien  y  a  d'imparfait, 

Qu'on  blame  amour,  c'est  lui  seul  qui  me  1'a  fait. 

If  she  has  erred,  that  is  to  say,  the  fault  is 
love's,  not  hers;  but  the  excuse  accords  with 
the  declaration  of  one  who  knew  her  that  "  she 
preferred  men  of  letters  to  noble  lords,  and 
would  rather  entertain  one  of  the  former 
gratuitously  than  one  of  the  latter  for  the 
reward  of  a  large  sum  of  money."  And  it 
would  certainly  seem,  if  poetry  be  evidence, 
that  Louise  Labe  took  her  levities,  such  as  they 
may  have  been,  very  seriously,  and  that  some 
man — if  not  several  men — caused  her  to  suffer. 
One  gathers  that  from  the  passionate  sonnet 
which  begins : 

Ne  reprenez,  Dames,  si  j'ay  aime  ; 
Si  j'ay  senti  mile  torches  ardantes, 
Mile  travaux,  mile  douleurs  mordantes ; 
Si  en  pleurant  j'ay  mon  temp  consume 

The  passionate  sonnet  which  ends  : 

Et  gardez-vous  d'estre  plus  malheureuses! 


KENAU  HASSELAAR  147 

Evidently  Louise  Labe  was  a  worthy 
daughter  of  the  Renaissance :  a  worthy  star 
in  the  Pleiade.  Her  appearance  in  this  gallery 
of  women  warriors  is  really  accidental— the 
caprice  of  a  high-spirited  girl  who  knew  that 
she  cut  a  fine  figure  on  horse-back.  We  enter 
a  very  different  world  when  we  pass  to  Holland 
and  review  the  valiant  deeds  of  Kenau  Hasselaar 
during  the  memorable  siege  of  Haarlem  by  the 
Spaniards. 

For  the  story  of  the  siege  itself — the  circum- 
stances which  led  up  to  it,  and  the  horrors  which 
marked  its  progress  and  its  conclusion — the 
reader  must  be  referred  to  Motley's  graphic 
pages.      There    he  will  read  how,   for    seven 
months,  4,000  men — mostly  burghers  with  only 
a  stiffening  of  soldiers — kept  30,000  Spaniards 
at  bay  ;  how  assaults  were  repelled,  and  sorties 
successfully  made ;    how  mines  were  dug  and 
met  by  counter-mines ;    how  relieving  forces 
were  cut  up,  and  traitors  were  hanged,  and 
prisoners  were  murdered ;    how   the  garrison 
flung  their  last  loaves  of  bread  over  the  walls, 
to  give  the  impression  that  supplies  were  still 
plentiful,   while  they  were  living  on  cats  and 
dogs  and  rats  and  mice  and  weeds  and  nettles ; 
how  the  final  surrender  was  followed  by  military 
executions  on  the  scale  of  massacres — hundreds 
of  victims  being  tied  back  to  back  and  drowned 
in  Haarlem  Meer.      But  of  Kenau  Hasselaar 
he  will  only  read  these   brief  and  insufficient 
sentences  : 


148  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

"  The  garrison  at  last  numbered  about  1,000 
pioneers  or  delvers,  3,000  fighting  men,  and 
about  300  fighting  women.  The  last  was  a 
most  efficient  corps,  all  females  of  respectable 
character,  armed  with  sword,  musket,  and 
dagger.  The  chief,  Kenau  Hasselaar,  was  a 
widow  of  distinguished  family  and  unblemished 
reputation,  about  forty-seven  years  of  age,  who, 
at  the  head  of  her  Amazons,  participated  in 
many  of  the  most  fiercely  contested  actions  of 
the  siege,  both  within  and  without  the  walls/ ' 

No  more  than  that ;  but  though  that  suffices 
for  Motley,  it  does  not  suffice  for  the  Dutch, 
least  of  all  if  they  are  citizens  of  Haarlem. 
Kenau  Hasselaar  is  for  the  citizens  of  Haarlem 
what  Jeanne  d'Arc  is  for  the  citizens  of  Orleans  ; 
and  all  that  is  known  or  knowable  about  her 
is  set  forth  in  a  little  book  entitled  Beroemde 
Nederlandsche  Vrouwen,  written  for  children, 
and  bearing  a  motto  from  the  works  of  our  own 
Samuel  Smiles  upon  its  title-page. 

Kenau  Hasselaar,  we  learn  from  this  source, 
was  Vrouw  Borst,  forty-seven  years  of  age,  as 
Motley  rightly  says,  and  of  a  family  which,  if 
distinguished,  was,  at  all  events,  in  trade,  and 
the  mother  of  three  children — two  girls  and  a 
boy.  Her  husband  had  been  a  ship-builder. 
Kenau  had  inherited  his  yard,  with  its  various 
contents  of  timber,  ropes,  canvas,  tar,  and 
pitch  :  her  nephew,  Pieter  Hasselaar,  was  one 
of  the  standard-bearers  of  the  Haarlem  garrison, 


KENAU  HASSELAAR  149 

and  a  renowned  marksman.  Pieter  came  to 
his  aunt  with  the  news — also  proclaimed  by 
the  ringing  of  alarm-bells  and  the  rolling  of 
drums — that  the  Spaniards  were  coming,  and 
that  the  assault  was  imminent.  Kenau  Hasse- 
laar  went  into  the  yard  and  lighted  a  large 
fire. 

She  knew,  as  everybody  knew,  what  would 
be  wanted  for  the  repulsion  of  the  storming 
party  :  plenty  of  boiling  water,  boiling  oil, 
boiling  pitch,  and  molten  lead.  She  filled  great 
cauldrons  with  such  things,  and  set  them  on 
to  boil ;  and  then  she  and  her  little  daughter 
Gwrtje  carried  the  cauldrons  to  the  walls,  where 
their  contents  were  found  very  useful  in 
hastening  the  descent  of  the  Spaniards  from 
their  scaling-ladders.  Wooden  hoops,  dipped  in 
pitch,  set  alight,  and  dropped  over  their  heads, 
were  particularly  disconcerting  to  them.  Little 
Gwrtje  found  time,  in  the  midst  of  the  excite- 
ment, to  complain  that  the  pitch  made  her 
little  hands  horribly  dirty  ;  but  Kenau  laughed 
at  her,  and  told  her  not  to  be  a  silly  child. 

Then  Kenau  reflected :  Why  should  the 
women  of  Haarlem  stand  idle  while  the  men  of 
Haarlem  risked  their  lives  ?  She  discussed 
that  question  with  her  cousins  and  her  neigh- 
bours ;  she  lay  awake  all  night,  thinking  of  it. 
Decidedly  the  women  could  do  something,  and 
ought  to  do  it  ;  why  should  she  not  herself 
organise  their  forces  ?  She  opened  her  Bible, 
as  her  daily  practice  was,  for  guidance ;  and 


150  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

her  eyes  lighted  upon  a  passage  in  the  twentieth 
chapter  of  the  Second  Book  of  Chronicles  : 

"  O  our  God,  wilt  Thou  not  judge  them  ?  for 
we  have  no  might  against  this  great  company 
that  cometh  against  us  ;  neither  know  we  what 
to  do  ;  but  our  eyes  are  upon  Thee.  .  .  . 

"  Then  upon  Jahaziel,  the  son  of  Zechariah, 
i  .  .  came  the  spirit  of  the  Lord  in  the  midst 
of  the  congregation, 

"  And  he  said,  Hearken  ye,  all  Judah,  and 
ye  inhabitants  of  Jerusalem,  and  thou  king 
Jehoshaphat,  Thus  saith  the  Lord  unto  you, 
Be  not  afraid  nor  dismayed  by  reason  of  this 
great  multidude ;  for  the  battle  is  not  yours, 
but  God's. 

"  To-morrow  go  ye  down  against  them." 

It  was  as  if  an  oracle  had  answered  one  who 
sought  advice ;  and  Kenau  Hasselaar  now 
knew  what  she  must  do.  She  went,  at  once, 
to  the  military  governor  of  the  town,  and 
proposed  to  raise  a  regiment  of  women  who 
should  help  to  guard  the  walls.  He  agreed, 
and  more  than  300  women  instantly  volunteered 
to  serve  ;  they  were  to  dress  as  women,  but 
also  to  wear  steel  corselets.  So  a  meeting  was 
held  at  which  weapons  were  distributed — 
muskets,  and  daggers,  and  pikes — and  officers 
were  duly  elected.  Kenau  Hasselaar  herself 
was  placed  in  chief  command ;  the  position 
of  second-in-command  was  given  to  the  bur- 
gomaster's wife.  Maria  van  Schoten,  a  girl 


KENAU  HASSELAAR  151 

of  seventeen,  and  Maria  van  der  Laan  were 
appointed  subaltern  officers,  and  the  bearing  of 
the  banners  was  entrusted  to  Henrika  van 
Vliet,  and  Gertrui  van  Brederode,  who  were 
accounted  the  belles  of  the  town.  They  all 
marched  off  to  the  walls,  where  they  were 
welcomed  with  a  blast  on  the  trumpets. 

Their  first  work  was  to  buttress  the  weak 
walls  with  timber .  Presently  they  were  engaged 
in  mining  operations ;  and  ultimately  they 
took  part  in  the  sallies.  Kenau  Hasselaar's 
battle-cry—"  For  Haarlem,  for  Holland  !  "— 
became  the  battle-cry  of  all.  The  Governor 
complimented  them,  saying  that  the  women 
fought  like  men,  and  Kenau  made  answer  : 
"  They  only  defend  what  they  love  best  :  that 
is  their  courage. "  Their  courage  is  not  held 
in  the  less  honour  because  their  defence  was 
vain.  A  messenger,  with  his  nose  and  ears 
cut  off,  arrived  with  the  news  that  the  Stad- 
houder's  attempt  to  send  a  force  to  raise  the 
siege  had  failed ;  and  there  was  nothing  for  it 
but  to  yield  on  such  terms  as  the  Spaniards 
would  grant. 

Their  hands  were  heavy, — they  gave  out  that 
every  one  who  harboured  a  refugee  would  be 
hanged;  but  Kenau  Hasselaar,  by  whatever 
means,  escaped  their  vengeance.  Her  subse- 
quent career  was  obscure  and  inconspicuous. 
We  know  that  her  grateful  fellow  countrymen 
gave  her  a  public  appointment  as  a  tax-collector, 
but  we  know  nothing  else. 


CHAPTER  XV 

The  Wars  of  the  Fronde — The  Fronde  of  the  Parlement  and  the 
Fronde  of  the  Noble  Lords — Part  played  in  the  war  by  Mile  de 
Montpensier — Her  friendship  for  the  great  Conde — Her  dash 
for  Orleans — Her  return  ho  Paris. 

THE  Wars  of  the  Fronde  furnish  the  frame  of 
the  picture  of  which  Mile  de  Montpensier  is  to 
be  the  central  figure  ;  and  it  would  require  all 
the  skill  of  a  competent  expert  to  unravel  the 
tangled  skein  of  their  complications.  In  this 
place  we  must  try  to  make  a  very  little  unravel- 
ling suffice ;  the  first  point  to  be  made  clear 
being  that  the  word  fronde  means  a  sling,  and 
that  the  word  frondeur,  which  is  obviously 
derived  from  it,  first  came  into  popular  use  in 
consequence  of  a  riot,  of  no  political  importance, 
in  which  slings  were  the  weapons  used.  The 
frondeurs  who  belong  to  history  were  all  those 
who  fought  against  the  King — Louis  XIV, 
who  was  then  a  child — his  mother,  Anne  of 
Austria,  and  his  minister,  Cardinal  Mazarin, 
in  the  civil  wars  which  raged  intermittently 
from  1648  to  1652. 

It  is  a  question  whether  we  should  speak  of 
two  Wars  of  the  Fronde,  or  of  one  war  divided 
into  parts  :  historians,  at  all  events,  distinguish 

152 


THE  FRONDE  153 

between  the  Fronde  of  the  Parlement  and  the 
Fronde  of  the  Noble  Lords.  The  French  Parle- 
ment, however,  it  must  be  borne  in  mind,  was 
not  the  exact  equivalent  of  an  English  Parlia- 
ment. Membership  of  it  was  hereditary,  and 
dependent  upon  the  payment  of  certain  taxes  ; 
its  functions  were  primarily  judicial,  though  it 
also  possessed  the  privilege  of  addressing  respect- 
ful "  remonstrances  "  to  the  King  concerning 
the  proceedings  of  his  Government.  It  was 
disposed  to  press  that  privilege,  having  before 
its  eyes  the  instructive  precedent  of  the  English 
Parliament,  which  had  defied  and  deposed  its 
King,  and  was  about  to  send  him  to  the  block. 
And  there  were  genuine  grievances.  French 
foreign  policy  had  prospered  ;  but  the  domestic 
condition  of  France  was  far  from  prosperous. 
The  people  were  poor  ;  the  taxes  were  heavy  ; 
Cardinal  Mazarin  was  observed  to  be  pocketing 
more  than  his  fair  share  of  them.  So  that  there 
was  a  disposition,  on  the  part  of  the  populace 
of  Paris,  not  merely  to  back  the  Parlement, 
but  to  go  a  good  deal  further  than  the  Parlement 
had  any  idea  of  going.  Hence,  in  the  first 
place,  riots,  and  the  famous  Day  of  the  Barri- 
cades ;  hence,  in  the  second  place,  the  retreat 
of  the  royal  family  from  Paris  to  Saint-Germain, 
and  the  reconquest  of  Paris,  on  their  behalf, 
by  the  great  Conde,  who  fell  upon  the  adven- 
turous Parisians  at  Charenton,  when  they 
attempted  a  sortie,  and  routed  them.  Then  in 
August,  1649,  the  Court  was  able  to  re-establish 


154  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

itself  at  the  Tuileries.     That  was  the  end  of 
Act  I  :    the  Fronde  of  the  Parlement. 

Act  II — the  Fronde  of  the  Noble  Lords — was 
due  to  the  great  Conde's  exorbitant  pride  and 
pretensions.  He  wanted  preferments  and  ad- 
vantages for  all  his  friends  ;  he  also  wanted  to 
have  a  right  of  veto  on  all  public  appointments, 
and  on  the  marriages  of  Mazarin's  nieces.  The 
Court  stood  a  great  deal  from  him,  but  finally 
laid  him  by  the  heels  in  the  prison  of  Vincennes. 
His  friends,  including  the  great  Turenne,  took 
the  matter  up  :  he  was  released,  and  there  was 
a  second  civil  war.  The  war  was  not,  this 
time,  to  any  extent,  a  popular  movement— 
the  points  at  issue  were  mainly,  if  not  solely, 
personal.  To  the  mass  of  the  people,  the  fight- 
ing was  a  nuisance,  interrupting  industry  and 
reducing  the  industrious  to  destitution ;  at 
the  most  they  took  such  an  interest  in  it 
as  the  spectators  take  in  a  foot-ball  match. 
Among  the  actual  combatants — and  especially 
among  the  leaders — there  was  a  great  deal  of 
bribery  and  corruption,  intriguing,  treachery, 
and  changing  of  sides.  It  is  all  very  intricate  ; 
but  we  need  attempt  no  further  relation  of 
anything  connected  with  it,  except  Mile  de 
Montpensier's  feats  of  arms. 

She  was  the  daughter  of  Louis  XIIFs  brother, 
Gaston  d' Orleans ;  consequently  Anne  of  Austria 
was  her  aunt,  and  Louis  XIV  was  her  cousin. 
She  was  high-spirited  :  of  the  type  of  the  young 
women  who,  in  our  own  day,  compete  with  men 


MLLE   DE  MONTPENSIER         155 

at  golf  and  tennis,  go  shooting  or  salmon  fishing 
with  them,  and  ride  to  hounds  with  them — a 
type  which  attracted  more  attention  then,  than 
now,  for  the  simple  reason  that  it  was  rarer. 
People  admired  and  applauded  her  because  she 
kept  things  lively,  and  gave  them  the  excitement 
of  wondering  what  she  would  be  up  to  next. 
The  populace,  in  particular,  cherished  the  sort 
of  enthusiasm  for  her  which  the  modern  popu- 
lace cherishes  for  the  champions  who  distinguish 
themselves  in  athletic  sports :  she  was  often 
the  idol  of  Paris. 

She  was  romantic  with  it  all,  but  in  a  style 
of  her  own  :  far  more  romantic  than  sentimental. 
In  the  end,  she  was  to  love,  and  even  to  marry, 
beneath  her,  losing  her  heart  to  that  remarkable 
adventurer,  Lauzun  ;  but  that  romance  belongs 
to  a  period  of  her  life  with  which  we  have  no- 
thing to  do.  In  her  youth  she  had  many  suitors 
(for  she  was  rich  as  well  as  attractive)  ;  but  no 
love-affair  in  which  her  heart  would  appear 
to  have  been  engaged.  Romance  only  served 
her,  in  these  days,  as  the  hand-maid  of  ambition. 
She  was  solicited,  but  was  not  to  be  persuaded, 
to  marry  our  own  Charles  II,  and  help  him  to 
recover  his  kingdom.  She  had  some  thought 
of  becoming  Conde's  second  wife  ;  but  Conde's 
first  wife  recovered  from  the  attack  of  erysipelas 
which  was  expected  to  carry  her  off  when  the 
proposal  was  under  consideration.  A  more 
brilliant  idea  was  that  she  should  marry  Louis 
XIV. 


156  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

Louis  was  only  ten,  and  Mile  de  Montpensier 
was  twenty-one  when  that  project  was  first 
discussed  ;  but  she  was  willing  to  wait  for  him. 
He  liked  her  well  enough;  there  would  have 
been  nothing  impossible  in  the  arrangement  if 
the  Court  had  smiled  on  it.  Objections  were 
raised,  however,  and  Mile  de  Montpensier  con- 
ceived a  further  brilliant  idea  :  to  force  the 
hands  of  her  enemies  by  joining  the  party  of 
the  Fronde.  Her  marriage  with  the  King,  it 
seemed  to  her,  might  be  made  one  of  the  condi- 
tions of  peace.  There  was  no  reason  why  it 
should  not  have  been,  if  the  war  had  had  a 
different  issue ;  but  there  is  no  need  to 
anticipate. 

For  some  time  Mile  de  Montpensier  had  been 
on  bad  terms  with  Conde  ;  and  the  first  scene 
in  which  we  obtain  a  characteristic  glimpse  of 
her  is  that  of  her  reconciliation  with  him.  She 
draws  the  picture  herself  in  her  Memoirs : 

"  Compliments  finished,  we  admitted  the 
mutual  aversion  which  we  had  previously  felt 
for  one  another.  He  confessed  that  he  had 
been  delighted  to  hear  that  I  had  the  small-pox, 
and  had  hoped  that  it  would  mark  or  disfigure 
me,  and,  in  fact,  that  he  could  not  have  detested 
me  more  than  he  did.  I,  on  my  part,  told  him 
that  I  had  never  been  so  pleased  as  when  I 
heard  that  he  was  in  prison ;  that  I  had  hoped 
that  he  would  be  sent  there,  and  had  never 
thought  of  him  without  wishing  him  evil.  This 


MLLE  DE  MONTPENSIER         157 

explanation,  which  took  a  long  time,  amused 
the  company  immensely,  and  concluded  with 
expressions  of  sincere  friendship  on  both 
sides." 

It  concluded,  in  fact,  with  the  conditional 
proposal  of  marriage  already  referred  to  ;  and 
there  is  a  fine,  frank  sincerity  about  it  which 
disarms  criticism.  From  that  date  onwards, 
in  spite  of  the  impossibility  of  concluding  the 
proposed  marriage,  Mile  de  Montpensier  was, 
as  the  Queen  said,  furieusement  frondeuse  ;  and 
we  may  skip  all  intermediate  incidents  and 
come  to  the  adventure  which  constitutes  her 
title  to  inclusion  in  this  gallery. 

The  royal  army  was  advancing  on  Orleans. 
Gaston  d' Orleans  was  the  liege  lord  of  the 
town ;  but  no  great  confidence  was  felt  in  its 
loyalty  to  him.  The  townsmen,  in  fact,  very 
much  desired  to  be  left  alone  while  their  liege 
lord  and  his  King  settled  their  quarrels  else- 
where ;  their  desire  was  simply  to  cultivate  their 
gardens,  and  not  to  stand  a  siege.  It  was 
important  that  some  member  of  the  family 
should  go  to  Orleans  in  order  to  bring  them  to 
a  better  frame  of  mind.  Gaston  d' Or  leans 
ought  to  have  gone  ;  but  he  made  excuses, 
and  the  matter  was  settled  over  his  head.  At 
a  supper-party,  an  officer  whispered  to  his 
daughter  :  "  We  are  in  luck  :  it  is  you  who  are 
to  go."  She  said  her  prayers,  according  to 
the  practice  of  the  age,  and  made  her  prepara- 


158  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

tions,  putting  on  a  plumed  hat,  and  a  riding 
habit  of  grey,  embroidered  with  gold,  and  driving 
off  in  her  coach,  at  about  three  o'clock  in  the 
afternoon.  The  people  cheered  her,  shouting, 
"  Point  de  Mazarin  !  "  An  escort  of  five  hun- 
dred horsemen  met  her  ;  and,  when  her  coach 
broke  down,  she  mounted  a  horse  and  rode  with 
them.  They  offered  her  the  chief  command, 
and  she  not  only  took  it,  but  exercised  it,  giving 
orders  for  the  holding  up  of  couriers  and  the 
confiscation  of  their  despatches.  One  has  the 
impression,  not  of  a  heroine,  with  a  fixed  idea, 
sacrificing  her  ease  and  risking  her  life  for  a 
great  cause,  but  rather  of  a  jolly  sportswoman 
coming  to  the  conclusion  that  the  game  of  war 
is  ever  so  much  more  amusing  than  the  game  of 
hockey. 

Regarding  war  as  a  game,  however,  she 
played  her  game  with  great  spirit.  An  emissary 
from  Orleans  who  begged  her  to  seek  a  lodging 
outside  the  gate,  on  the  ground  that  her  entrance 
into  the  town  was  the  one  thing  certain  to 
provoke  the  King  to  attack  it,  met  with  a 
discouraging  reception.  "  Nothing/'  she  as- 
sured the  messenger,  "  inspirits  the  people  more 
than  to  see  persons  of  my  quality  expose  them- 
selves to  danger  "  ;  and  she  further  assured 
him  that  he  need  not  tremble  for  her.  At  the 
worst,  she  was  only  likely  to  be  arrested,  and 
"  in  that  case  I  shall  be  in  the  hands  of  men 
who  speak  my  language,  who  know  me,  and 
even  in  captivity  will  show  me  the  respect  due 


MLLE   DE  MONTPENSIER          159 

to  my  birth."  As  for  any  possible  danger  to 
the  citizens  of  Orleans,  that  was  a  branch  of 
the  subject  which  does  not  seem  to  have  troubled 
her  in  the  least. 

So  she  went  on,  and  found  the  gates  of 
Orleans  closed  against  her.  She  demanded 
that  they  should  be  opened,  but  the  answer  of 
the  garrison  was  evasive.  The  people  cheered, 
the  soldiers  saluted,  the  Governor  begged  her 
to  accept  cakes  and  sweetmeats  which  he 
lowered  to  her  from  a  window ;  but  the  bolts 
were  not  withdrawn.  "  Very  well.  I  shall 
either  break  the  gates  down  or  climb  over  the 
wall/'  said  Mademoiselle ;  but  there  was  no 
response  to  that  menace  except  low  and 
elaborate  bows.  Whereupon  Mademoiselle 
walked  on  until  she  came  to  the  Loire,  where 
she  found  boatmen  who  were  willing,  for  a  con- 
sideration, to  help  her.  They  banged  at  one 
of  the  gates  which  opened  on  the  quay,  and 
knocked  a  hole  in  it. 

There  was  no  fighting,  no  escalade  even,  in 
the  ordinary  sense :  it  was  merely  a  case  of  a 
determined  young  woman  insisting  upon  her 
own  way  and  getting  it.  Only  passive  resist- 
ance was  offered  ;  and  we  may  take  it  that 
no  other  kind  of  resistance  was  either  intended 
or  expected.  Seeing  that  Mademoiselle  de 
Montpensier  entered  the  town  by  crawling 
through  a  hole  in  the  gate,  unsupported  by  any 
armed  force,  nothing  would  have  been  easier 
than  either  to  tap  her  on  the  head  and  drive  her 


160  WOMEN  IN   WAR 

back,  or  else  to  haul  her  through  the  hole  and 
take  her  prisoner.  But  she  had  friends  within, 
and  her  persistence  commanded  universal  ad- 
miration. She  had  no  sooner  got  into  the  town 
after  this  farcical  attempt  to  storm  it  than  she 
was  "  chaired  "  and  carried  through  the  streets 
in  triumph.  "  I  thought  I  should  have  died 
of  laughing/'  is  the  gay  conclusion  of  her 
narrative  of  the  incident. 

The  farce,  nevertheless,  was  not  without  its 
military  value.  There  had  been  a  race  for  the 
possession  of  Orleans,  and  Mile  de  Montpensier 
had  won  the  race.  She  had  the  satisfaction  of 
pointing  out  that  fact  to  the  representatives  of 
the  royal  forces  who  arrived  and  demanded 
admission  on  the  following  day,  and  with  whom 
she  held  converse  from  the  top  of  a  tower. 
"  I  informed  them,"  she  says,  "  that  I  was 
mistress  in  Orleans,  and  that  there  was  no 
longer  any  hope  there  for  the  Mazarins."  But 
she  was  only  mistress  of  Orleans  in  a  very 
limited  sense.  Compliments  and  congratula- 
tions poured  in  upon  her  from  her  father  and 
from  Conde  :  she  was  the  new  Maid  of  Orleans, 
the  worthy  granddaughter  of  Henri  IV,  etc., 
etc.;  but  the  authorities  of  the  town  were,  on 
the  whole,  more  polite  than  compliant.  They 
kept  her  regularly  supplied  with  cakes  and 
comfits,  they  vaguely  promised  obedience  to 
all  her  commands ;  but  they  nevertheless 
pursued  their  own  policy.  Their  welcome 
was  for  ladies  only  of  the  Conde  party  :  no 


MLLE   DE  MONTPENSIER         161 

soldiers,  no  generals,  no  princes,  even,  could 
be  admitted.  "  I  got  very  angry/*  she  writes. 
"  I  lost  my  temper.  I  scolded  them.  I 
cried. " 

In  particular,  she  scolded  M.  de  Sourdis,  the 
Governor  of  the  town,  who  retorted  by  suspend- 
ing his  pleasant  practice  of  sending  her  a  parcel 
of  sweetmeats  every  morning ;  but  she  made 
her  peace  with  him — one  of  her  conditions, 
conveyed  to  him  by  the  persuasive  tongue  of  the 
Bishop,  being  that  he  should  send  her  all  the 
confectionery  which  he  had  withheld  during 
the  period  of  estrangement.  "  So  that  I 
gained  a  good  deal,"  she  explains,  "  by  com- 
posing my  dispute  with  him."  But  inaction, 
even  on  a  diet  of  bonbons,  bored  her.  She 
explored  the  town ;  she  visited  the  churches ; 
she  played  skittles  in  her  garden ;  but  these 
amusements  soon  ceased  to  amuse  her.  She 
wanted  to  be  up  and  doing — to  play  at  soldiers 
properly,  with  Conde  for  her  playmate ;  so, 
as  his  armies  could  not  come  to  join  her,  she 
rode  off  to  join  them,  nobody  presuming  to 
interfere  with  her  movements.  The  soldiers 
cheered  her  ;  Conde  spoke  of  her  march  as 
"  worthy  of  the  great  Gustavus  Adolphus  "  ; 
when  she  proposed  to  pray,  a  military  band 
escorted  her  to  church.  "  The  effect,"  she 
says,  "  was  very  fine." 

And  so  back  to  Paris,  with  Conde  sitting  be- 
side her  in  the  coach. 

Her  father  was  annoyed.  He  was  a  father 
ii 


162  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

whose  chief  desire  was  for  a  quiet  life  ;  whose 
instinct  it  was,  when  any  crisis  called  for  action 
or  decision,  to  go  to  bed  with  the  gout.  He  had 
no  followers,  though  there  were  those  who 
wished  to  push  him  along  in  front,  and  even 
ladies  who  followed  the  profession  of  gallantry 
ventured,  when  he  walked  abroad,  to  stop  him 
in  the  street  and  tell  him  what  he  ought  to  do. 
Naturally,  therefore,  his  daughter  was  not  afraid 
of  him.  She  "  called  him  to  order  as  if  he  had 
been  a  dog  "  ;  and  she  thoroughly  enjoyed  her 
popularity.  Conde,  indeed,  did  not  take  her 
into  his  confidence  as  completely  as  she  ima- 
gined ;  but  she  was  acclaimed  wherever  she 
appeared.  She  was,  she  tells  us,  "  like  a  Queen 
of  Paris ;  .  .  .  held  in  the  highest  honour  and 
the  greatest  consideration  * '  ;  and  presently  she 
had,  and  seized,  her  chance  of  rendering  Conde 
a  real  military  service. 

An  instinct  warned  her  that  she  would  be 
wanted,  and  that  the  call  would  be  a  sudden  one. 
She  had  been  feeling  unwell  and  had  been  mean- 
ing to  take  medicine  ;  but  a  timely  premonition 
bade  her  postpone  the  treatment,  in  order  that 
she  might  be  in  a  condition  to  "  make  herself 
useful/'  Glory  first  and  medicine  afterwards, 
should  be  her  motto.  So  she  threw  the  dose 
away  ;  and  when  she  was  wanted,  she  was 
ready. 

It  was  a  scorching  July  day.  Conde  had 
been  fighting  outside  the  walls  of  Paris,  and  was 
being  beaten.  The  wounded  were  already  ar- 


i 


MLLE   DE  MONTPENSIER         163 

riving  within  the  city  walls ;  the  routed  were 
about  to  try  to  follow  them.  Everything 
depended  upon  the  attitude  of  Paris.  Conde 
would  need  the  help  of  all  his  friends  ;  and  Mile 
de  Montpensier  was  to  prove  herself  the  most 
valuable  friend  he  had. 


CHAPTER   XVI 

Attack  on  Paris  by  Turenne — Mile  de  Montpensier  points  the  guns 
on  his  army — Disappointment  of  her  matrimonial  ambitions — 
Peace  concluded  without  her  consent — Fear,  flight,  and  nervous 
breakdown. 

PARIS,  on  the  whole,  favoured  Cond6  and  the 
Fronde  ;  but  Paris  did  not  speak  with  a  single 
voice,  and  there  were  limitations  to  its  sym- 
pathy. Delirant  reges,  plectuntur  Achivi.  Paris 
had  already  suffered  enough  to  realise  the  truth 
of  that  saying;  and,  though  it  accepted  a 
certain  amount  of  suffering  as  inevitable,  it 
had  no  desire  to  suffer  more  than  it  could  help. 
It  was  bad  enough  that  business  should  be 
suspended,  and  supplies  scarce,  while  the  streets 
were  crowded  with  starving  fugitives  from  the 
devastated  country  ;  they  wished  to  avert  the 
crowning  horror  of  being  besieged,  and  stormed, 
and  sacked.  And  that  horror,  they  feared, 
would  infallibly  befall  them  if  they  opened 
their  gates  to  Conde  and  then  slammed  them  in 
the  face  of  Turenne — now  Conde' s  enemy,  though 
once  his  friend.  The  apprehension  was  specially 
acute  among  serious  people  :  merchants,  trades- 
men, town  councillors,  and  the  like. 

Conde,  of  course,  had  never  thought  of  that ; 


MLLE   DE   MONTPENSIER          165 

and  Mile  de  Montpensier  did  not  think  of  it 
either.  To  her,  as  to  him,  the  masses  were 
just  the  masses  :  people  of  whose  interests  it 
behoved  no  one  to  consider  ;  people  from  whom 
loyalty  was  due ;  mere  pawns  in  the  game  of 
intrigue  played  by  the  great.  Conde's  duty 
was  to  himself,  and  Mademoiselle's  duty  was  to 
Conde.  Reluctant  adherents  must  be  shamed, 
or  persuaded,  or  coerced  into  adhering  :  that 
was  Mademoiselle's  simple  view  of  the  matter. 
Conde  had  appealed  to  her,  and  he  should  not 
appeal  in  vain.  There  is  a  point  of  view,  of 
course,  from  which  her  proceedings  seem  selfish 
and  indefensible ;  but  her  energy — so  long  as 
it  lasted,  for  we  shall  come  presently  to  a  col- 
lapse— is  worthy  of  all  our  admiration. 

The  appeal  for  help  was  addressed,  in  the  first 
instance,  to  her  father  :  an  appeal  to  compel 
the  opening  of  the  gates  of  Paris  to  Conde's 
retreating  army.  The  invariable  effect  of  an 
appeal  of  that  sort  on  Cast  on  d' Orleans  was  to 
bring  on  an  attack  of  the  gout ;  but  Made- 
moiselle de  Montpensier  knew  that  gout,  and 
had  no  sympathy  with  it.  She  had  the  less 
sympathy  with  it  because  it  did  not,  this  time, 
send  her  father  to  bed,  but  only  kept  him  in- 
doors. She  stormed  at  him  ;  she  called  in  her 
friends  to  help  her  storm  at  him.  He  was 
induced,  at  last,  not  to  act  himself,  but  to 
delegate  his  authority  to  his  daughter,  and  to 
despatch  her  to  the  Hotel  de  Ville,  there  to  give 
orders,  "  as  his  representative." 


166  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

She  dashed  off,  and  found  the  town  councillors 
in  session,  and  a  howling  mob  assembled  outside 
the  building,  threatening  the  City  Fathers  so 
violently  that  not  a  man  among  them  dared  to 
look  out  of  window  for  fear  of  being  shot  at. 
She  burst  in  upon  them,  and  demanded  instant 
armed  succour  for  her  friend,  and  an  order  for 
the  opening  of  the  gates. 

"  Picture  it,  gentlemen !  J:  she  cried  im- 
petuously. "  Even  now,  while  you  confabu- 
late, the  Prince  is  in  peril  in  your  faubourgs. 
What  grief,  what  everlasting  shame  for  Paris, 
if  he  should  die  there  for  want  of  help  !  It  is 
your  place  to  help  him  :  make  haste  and  do 
your  duty  !  " 

Her  eloquence,  if  not  her  arguments,  over- 
came them.  She  obtained  her  order  for  Conde's 
admission,  and  galloped  off  in  her  coach  to  the 
Porte  Saint-Antoine,  outside  of  which  the  battle 
was  still  raging  furiously.  A  procession  of  the 
wounded  met  her  :  La  Rochefoucauld,  of  the 
Maxims,  Guitaut,  Valon,  who  had  been  with  her 
on  the  ride  to  Orleans — scores  of  the  noblest  of 
the  nobility  of  France,  who  had  been  fighting 
the  last  fight  of  the  feudal  aristocracy  against 
the  King.  She  opened  the  gate,  and  Conde 
entered,  dust  on  his  face,  his  hair  matted,  and 
his  shirt  and  collar  soaked  with  blood,  exclaim- 
ing, "  You  behold  a  desperate  man ;  I  have 
lost  all  my  friends." 

But,  even  so,  the  army  was  not  safe,   and 


MLLE   DE   MONTPENSIER          167 

Mile  de  Montpensier  had  not  finished  her  day's 
work.  The  fighting  continued,  before  the  eyes 
of  the  bourgeoisie  assembled  on  the  walls  ;  and 
Mademoiselle  climbed  to  the  top  of  one  of  the 
towers  of  the  Bastille,  to  get  a  better  view  of  it. 
She  saw  Turenne's  cavalry  about  to  charge  the 
rear-guard  of  the  retreating  host ;  and,  on  her 
own  responsibility,  she  gave  the  order  to  point 
the  guns  on  them,  and  fire,  with  the  result 
that  their  front  ranks  were  swept  away  and 
their  advance  was  checked.  The  volley,  accord- 
ing to  Mazarin,  "  killed  her  husband  " — de- 
stroyed for  ever,  that  is  to  say,  her  chance  of 
marrying  Louis  XIV  ;  but  it  also  saved  the 
Army  of  the  Fronde.  "  You  are  our  deliverer/' 
the  men  cried,  as  they  passed  beneath  her 
window  and  saluted. 

It  was  a  remarkable  personal  triumph. 
Mademoiselle  was  under  the  impression  that 
it  was  also  a  great  triumph  for  the  cause ;  but 
the  historian,  looking  backwards,  discerns  in  it 
the  beginning  of  the  discomfiture  of  the  party. 
Conde  was  under  the  impression  that  the  City 
Fathers  esteemed  it  a  privilege  to  risk  their 
lives  for  him,  and  desired  nothing  better  than 
to  place  him  at  the  head  of  a  provisional 
Government.  What  they  did  desire  was  to 
conclude  a  peace,  whether  with  his  approval 
or  without  it ;  and  they  said  so.  The  mob 
favoured  Conde,  and  attacked  the  City  Fathers 
in  the  Hotel  de  Ville,  apparently  with  Conde' s 
connivance.  Mademoiselle  achieved  another 


168  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

triumph  by  driving  to  the  rescue ;  and  the 
people  cried  :  "  God  bless  you  !  Whatever 
you  do  is  done  well."  But  there  had  been 
killed  and  wounded ;  and  there  had  also 
been  an  appearance  of  treachery.  The  City 
Fathers  had  fallen,  it  was  said,  into  a  guet- 
apens.  So  that  the  better  opinion  of  Paris 
became  adverse  to  Conde,  and  his  power 
crumbled. 

For  some  weeks  longer  Mademoiselle  con- 
tinued to  play  at  soldiers,  with  negotiations  for 
peace  going  on  behind  her  back.  It  is  said  that 
officers  fought  duels  for  the  honour  of  holding 
commissions  in  regiments  under  her  command  ; 
and  she  dreamed  grandiose  dreams  of  military 
glory.  She  would  raise  a  great  army  at  her 
own  expense,  and  call  it  the  Army  of  Made- 
moiselle. She  would  seize  a  fortress  some- 
where, and  intimidate  the  King  into  treating, 
— and  perhaps  into  marrying  her.  Or  perhaps 
she  would  marry  Conde — whose  wife  was  again 
ill — and  make  him  King.  But  there  was  no 
actual  fighting  ;  and  that  fact  also  gave  the 
City  Fathers  food  for  reflection.  Not,  of  course, 
that  fighting  was  what  they  craved  for,  but  that 
a  camp  in  which  "  nothing  was  going  on  except 
luncheon  parties  and  flirtations  "  outraged  their 
sense  of  the  fitness  of  things  and  the  proper 
relation  between  ends  and  means.  If  the 
soldiers  did  not  fight  how  was  this  war,  which 
was  such  a  nuisance  to  men  of  business,  to  be 
brought  to  an  end  ? 


MLLE  DE  MONTPENSIER         169 

They  decided  to  end  it  by  sending  a  deputa- 
tion to  the  King,  inviting  him  to  return  to 
Paris.  Mademoiselle  appealed  to  her  father 
to  hang  them — which,  if  we  take  a  purely 
military  view  of  the  matter,  was  obviously  the 
proper  thing  to  do ;  but  Gaston  d' Orleans  was 
secretly  on  their  side,  and  had  opened  his  own 
negotiations  with  his  nephew.  So  that  the 
King  came  into  his  own  again,  almost  as  quietly 
as  if  he  had  never  been  kept  out  of  it,  and 
Conde  withdrew  to  the  armies  which  held  out 
for  him  in  the  East  of  France,  and  Gaston 
d' Orleans  obeyed  an  injunction  to  leave  Paris, 
and,  as  Paris  sang  : 

Mademoiselle  son  atnee, 
Disparut,  la  m6me  journee. 

It  was  the  end  of  the  great  adventure,  and 
it  was  also  the  end  of  Mademoiselle's  heroism. 
She  was  frightened  by  the  receipt  of  anonymous 
letters,  warning  her  that  she  was  likely  to  be 
arrested.  She  asked  no  questions ;  she  was 
deaf  to  faithful  friends  who  implored  her  to 
keep  cool.  She  simply  fled,  as  the  wicked  flee  - 
"  when  no  man  pursueth  "  —screaming  at  every 
one  who  attempted  to  delay  her  retreat,  in  a 
coach  without  armorial  bearings,  driven  by  a 
coachman  without  livery — that  is  to  say,  in 
the  seventeenth-century  equivalent  of  a  four- 
wheeler.  Every  horseman  who  passed  her  on 
the  road  appeared  to  her  terrified  imagination 
a  soldier  sent  to  capture  her  ;  she  put  on  a 


170  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

mask  which  she  represented  as  designed  to 
cover  the  ravages  of  small-pox,  and  called  her- 
self Madame  Dupre. 

Her  secretary  begged  her  father  to  receive 
her  in  his  own  retreat  at  Blois  ;  but  he  would 
not.  Her  energy  was  always  compromising 
him,  and  he  was  tired  of  being  compromised. 
"  I  don't  want  her/1  he  said  ;  "  and,  if  she  comes, 
I  shall  turn  her  out."  Conde,  on  the  other  hand, 
wrote  to  her  from  the  frontier  begging  her  to 
join  him.  "  I  place  my  fortresses  and  my  army 
at  your  disposition,"  he  wrote,  "  and  MM.  de 
Lorraine  and  de  Fuensaldagne  do  the  same"  ; 
but  she  declined  the  invitation,  having  played 
at  soldiers  long  enough  to  have  discovered  that 
the  game  was  attended  with  unpleasant  risks. 
It  seemed  better  to  repair  to  her  own  chateau 
at  Saint-Fargeau,  and  wait  there  until  the  clouds 
rolled  by. 

She  was  in  no  real  danger — -the  King  had 
written  to  promise  her  "  safety  and  liberty  "  ; 
but  her  confidence  had  been  too  severely  shaken 
to  be  restored  so  easily.  So  she  hurried  on, 
travelling  far  into  the  night,  in  fear  not  only 
of  the  royal  troops  but  also  of  irresponsible 
marauders,  who  did,  in  fact,  succeed  in  stealing 
some  of  her  ready  money  and  a  portion  of  her 
secretary's  wardrobe.  And  then,  at  last : 

"  We  arrived,"  she  writes,  "  at  Saint-Fargeau 
at  two  in  the  morning.  I  had  to  dismount, 
because  the  bridge  was  broken  down.  I  entered 


MLLE   DE  MONTPENSIER         171 

an  old  house  which  had  neither  doors  nor 
windows,  but  had  grass  growing  knee-high  in 
the  courtyard.  It  was  a  terrible  shock.  They 
led  me  into  a  wretched  room,  propped  up  in 
the  middle  by  a  beam.  I  was  so  annoyed  and 
horrified  that  I  began  to  cry." 

Hysterics  after  heroism.  The  anti-climax  is 
so  obvious  that  there  is  no  need  to  dwell  on  it  ; 
and,  of  course,  the  tears  evoked  by  the  appre- 
hension, not  of  danger,  but  of  the  discomfort 
of  spending  a  night  in  a  cold  and  empty  house, 
without  a  bed  to  lie  upon,  are  a  proof  that 
Mademoiselle,  masculine  as  she  had  appeared 
to  be,  had  her  share  of  the  weaknesses  of  her 
sex.  One  is  helped  by  them  to  believe  that 
when,  a  few  years  later,  she  met  Queen  Christina 
of  Sweden  at  Fontainebleau,  she  was,  to  the 
amazement  of  that  northern  monarch,  frightened 
by  the  display  of  fire-works  with  which  the 
entertainment  concluded. 

That  story,  however,  belongs  to  a  later  date, 
and  we  have  nothing  to  do  with  it ;  just  as  we 
have  nothing  to  do  with  the  interesting  story 
of  Mademoiselle's  love  for  Lauzun.  Our  busi- 
ness is  still  with  the  Wars  of  the  Fronde,  and 
the  parts  which  other  women  played  in  them  : 
roles  to  which  Mazarin  himself  rendered  hom- 
age in  conversation  with  the  Spanish  Prime 
Minister  : 

"  You  Spaniards,"  he  said,  "  are  lucky. 
Love  is  the  only  thing  with  which  your  women 


172  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

concern  themselves.  It  is  very  different  in 
France.  We  have  three  women  here  who  would 
be  capable  of  governing  or  subverting  three 
great  kingdoms  :  the  Duchesse  de  Longueville, 
the  Princess  Palatine,  and  the  Duchesse  de 
Chevreuse." 

He  might  have  added  that  the  most  enter- 
prising of  these  was  Madame  de  Longueville. 


CHAPTER   XVII 

Madame  de  Longueville,  sister  of  the  great  Conde — Her  attempt 
to  raise  Normandy — Her  escape  from  Dieppe — Her  defence  of 
Bordeaux — Her  repentance  in  her  old  age,  and  her  devout 
religious  observances. 

MADAME  D£  LONGUEVILLE  was  Conde' s  sister. 
There  is  little  to  be  said  about  her  husband 
except  that  he  was  several  years  her  senior, 
and  had  a  considerable,  though  not  an  im- 
moderate reputation  for  gallantry.  La  Roche- 
foucauld, of  the  Maxims,  was  her  lover — 
though  neither  her  first  Jover  nor  her  last ;  but 
we  need  not  go  too  deeply  into  that,  though 
a  democratic  pamphleteer  might  make  great 
play  with  the  connection  between  the  wars 
which  ravaged  France  and  the  love-affairs  of 
the  leaders  of  French  society.  All  that  con- 
cerns us  in  our  study  of  the  vanities  of  the 
Duchesse  de  Longueville  is  the  light  thereby 
thrown  upon  the  causes,  and  springs,  and 
motives  of  the  Fronde  of  the  Noble  Lords. 

All  the  Noble  Lords,  and  the  Noble  Ladies 
also,  wanted  something  for  themselves  as  the 
condition  of  their  faithful  allegiance  to  Anne 
of  Austria  and  Mazarin.  Some  of  them  wanted 
money,  others  public  appointments,  others, 

173 


174  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

again,  court  privileges.     Madame  de  Longue- 
ville  wanted  the  government  of  the  Pont  de 
L'Arche,  in  Normandy,  for  her  husband,  "  the 
honours  of  the  Louvre  " — the  right,  that  is  to 
say,  of  driying  a  coach  into  the  courtyard  of 
any  palace  in  which  the  King  happened  to  be 
residing — for  her  lover,   and  the  tabouret,   or 
privilege  of  sitting,  instead  of  standing,  at  royal 
receptions,  for  her  lover's  sister,  and  another 
lady  in  whom  her  brother  was  interested.     To 
her,  and  to  those  about  her,  it  seemed  perfectly 
natural,  not  only  that  Noble  Lords  should  fight 
for  these  privileges,  if  they  could  not  obtain 
them  by  intrigue,  but  also  that  the  common 
people  should  suspend  their  ordinary  occupa- 
tions and  fight  for  them  on  their  behalf.     That, 
in  the  view  of  the  ancienne  noblesse,   whose 
feudal  pride  Louis  XI  had  not  entirely  broken, 
was  what  common  people  were  for. 

We  first,  therefore,  discover  Madame  de 
Longueville  behind  the  scenes,  pulling  the  wires 
with  great  dexterity,  foreseeing  civil  war,  and 
preparing  for  it.  It  is  a  characteristic  fact 
that,  after  having  given  provocation  in  compli- 
ance with  the  claims  of  love,  she  strengthened 
her  position  by  lending  her  countenance  to  a 
secret  marriage.  The  young  Due  de  Richelieu, 
who  was  still  a  minor,  and  one  of  the  richest 
partis  in  France,  had  been  persuaded  that  he 
wanted  to  marry  Madame  de  Pons,  one  of  the 
ladies  for  whom  Madame  de  Longueville  had 
obtained  a  tabouret — a  buxom  widow  who  was 


MME   DE  LONGUEVILLE          175 

nearly  double  his  age.  Anne  of  Austria  and 
the  boy's  guardian  not  unnaturally  withheld 
their  consent ;  and  Madame  de  Longueville 
saw  her  opportunity.  If  the  boy  would  seize 
Havre  and  hold  it  for  the  House  of  Conde,  she 
would  arrange  for  his  marriage  to  take  place 
at  her  residence  at  Trie  near  Beauvais.  The 
boy,  being  love-sick,  agreed  ;  and  the  bargain 
was  duly  struck  and  carried  out.  That  defiance 
of  the  royal  authority  was  the  last  straw 
which  broke  the  royal  patience.  The  arrest  of 
Conde,  of  which  we  have  already  spoken, 
followed. 

Not  only  Conde  and  his  brother  Conti  were 
to  have  been  arrested  :  the  same  sentence  was 
launched  against  La  Rochefoucauld  and  Madame 
de  Longueville  herself.  But  Madame  de  Longue- 
ville, though  commonly  regarded  as  a  languorous 
beauty,  was  a  woman  of  energy  and  resource : 
she  saw  what  was  coming,  and  got  away  before 
it  came.  She  was  ordered  to  repair  to  the 
Palais-Royal,  the  intention  being  to  arrest 
her  on  her  arrival ;  but,  though  she  started 
for  the  Palais-Royal,  she  did  not  reach  that 
destination.  Instead,  she  drove  to  the  house 
of  the  Princess  Palatine,  where  she  borrowed 
the  Princess  Palatine's  coach,  and  set  off  for- 
Normandy,  accompanied  by  La  Rochefoucauld, 
proposing  there  to  raise  the  flag  of  rebellion 
in  her  brother's  interest.  She  had  a  small 
escort  with  her,  sufficient  to  arrest  a  royal 
courier,  whom  she  met  upon  the  road,  despoil 


176  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

him  of  his  despatches,  take  him  to  Rouen  as 
a  prisoner,  and  lock  him  up  in  a  room  in  one 
of  the  inns. 

It  seemed  to  the  feudal  mind  of  the  Duchesse 
de  Longueville  the  most  natural  thing  in  the 
world  that  Normans  should  wish  to  kill  and  be 
killed  on  account  of  any  affront  put  upon  her 
or  any  member  of  her  family ;  and  she  began 
her  campaign  by  sending  the  stolen  despatches 
to  the  Rouen  Parlement,  with  her  compli- 
ments. She  encountered,  however,  that  hard, 
business-like,  middle-class  opinion  which  always 
objects  to  the  derangement  of  its  commerce 
by  quarrels  with  which  it  has  no  direct  concern  : 
a  new  spirit,  but  nevertheless  a  growing  one. 
The  Parlement  not  only  sent  officers  to  demand 
the  release  of  the  courier  whom  Madame  de 
Longueville  had  locked  up  in  his  bedroom,  but 
also  issued  a  decree  prohibiting  "  all  persons,  of 
whatever  quality  and  condition,  from  holding 
any  armed  assemblages,  without  the  King's 
explicit  orders,  under  pain  of  death."  It  was 
a  hint  to  Madame  de  Longueville  to  move  on, 
and  she  took  it. 

She  moved  on  to  Havre  ;  and  there  too  she 
was  disappointed,  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  her 
friend  the  Due  de  Richelieu  held  the  citadel. 
Mazarin  had  written  promising  to  recognise  the 
boy's  marriage,  if  he  would  shut  the  gates  of 
Havre  in  Madame  de  Longueville' s  face  ;  and 
the  boy,  loving  his  wife  better  than  he  loved 
the  House  of  Conde,  begged  to  be  excused 


MME   DE  LONGUEVILLE          177 

for  not  receiving  his  visitor.  So  Madame  de 
Longueville  proceeded  to  Dieppe  ;  and  there 
she  had  a  mixed  reception.  The  Governor  of 
the  Chateau  received  her  hospitably,  and 
made  her  as  comfortable  as  he  could ;  but 
the  citizens  were  loyal  to  the  King.  They 
went  so  far  as  to  say,  with  stubborn  obstinacy, 
that  "  since  the  Governor  had  abandoned  the 
service  of  the  King,  he  no  longer  had  any  right 
to  issue  orders  to  them."  And  presently  royal 
troops  arrived  to  support  the  loyalty  of  the 
citizens,  and  to  blockade  the  Dieppe  Chateau 
on  the  land  side  ;  so  that  there  remained  nothing 
for  it  but  for  Madame  de  Longueville  to  get 
away  to  the  Netherlands,  and  see  what  she 
could  do  for  Conde  there. 

Getting  away,  however,  was  neither  com- 
fortable nor  easy.  When  Madame  de  Longue- 
ville slipped  out  of  the  postern  gate  of  the 
fortress,  she  found  the  Dieppe  militia  waiting 
for  her  on  the  beach.  Though  she  could  not 
embark,  she  managed  to  evade  them,  and 
walked  a  couple  of  miles  along  the  coast  to 
a  small  creek,  where  she  lighted  upon  a  couple 
of  fishing-smacks.  She  hired  the  skipper  of 
one  of  them  to  take  her  out  to  her  ship  in  the 
offing.  Bargaining  for  a  big  price  because  the 
weather  was  rough,  he  undertook  to  try ;  but 
with  calamitous  results.  The  sailor  who  was 
carrying  Madame  de  Longueville  out  to  the 
boat  stumbled  and  dropped  her  ;  the  waves 
rolled  her  ashore,  drenched  and  very  nearly 

12 


178  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

insensible.  The  fishermen  refused  to  try  again  ; 
and  it  was  necessary  to  hire  horses  and  ride  to 
Poerville,  where  the  cur 6  entertained  the  party. 
Remembering  how  glad  she  had  been  of  his 
warm  fire,  Madame  de  Longueville  never  forgot, 
in  happier  after-years,  to  send  him  an  annual 
gift  of  firewood  from  her  estate,  for  the  use 
of  his  distressed  parishioners. 

Meanwhile  the  ship  for  which  she  was  waiting 
arrived,  and  she  had  another  narrow  escape, 
being  warned,  in  the  nick  of  time,  that  the 
captain  had  been  bribed  to  betray  her,  and  that, 
if  she  embarked,  she  would  be  arrested ;  so 
she  fled,  seeking  other  hiding-places  and  a 
fresh  disguise.  In  the  end  she  got  to  Havre,  in 
men's  clothes — •"  the  humiliating  marks,"  as 
she  calls  them,  "of  her  misfortunes" — repre- 
senting herself  as  a  gentleman  in  danger  of 
arrest  for  having  killed  his  antagonist  in  a 
duel.  And  so  to  Rotterdam,  where  she  resumed 
"  the  majestic  apparel  which  so  well  became 
her,"  and,  after  a  hospitable  reception  by  the 
Prince  and  Princess  of  Orange,  joined  Turenne 
at  Stenai — Turenne,  who  was  now  styling  himself 
"Lieutenant-General  of  the  army  of  the  King 
for  the  deliverance  of  the  Princes,"  and  had 
concluded,  in  the  interest  of  the  Princes,  an 
offensive  and  defensive  alliance  with  Spain. 
It  is  significant  of  the  supreme  importance  of 
personal  aspects  in  this  civil  war  that  the  treaty 
provided  for  the  payment  of  a  substantial 
annuity  to  Madame  de  Longueville  herself. 


MME   DE  LONGUEVILLE          179 

Nor  was  Turenne  the  only  Richmond,  or 
Mme  de  Longueville  the  only  lady,  in  the  field. 
La  Rochefoucauld  had  parted  from  her,  but 
only  to  pursue  other  adventures.  Through 
the  death  of  his  father  he  had  become  a  Duke ; 
and  he  had  made  his  father's  funeral  a  pretext 
for  assembling  his  friends  and  their  retainers 
for  a  martial  enterprise.  He  an$  the  Due  de 
Bouillon  agreed  to  act  together ;  and  they 
invited  the  Princesse  de  Conde  to  join  them- 
which  she  did,  with  unexpected  spirit.  She 
was  supposed  to  be,  if  not  under  arrest,  at  least 
under  observation,  at  Chantilly  ;  but  she  es- 
caped, and  travelled  across  country  to  join  her 
friends  near  Limoges,  where  cannon  saluted 
her,  and  her  health  was  drunk  at  a  banquet 
of  a  hundred  covers — so  repeatedly  and  so 
thoroughly  that  hosts,  and  guests,  and  servants 
are  all  reported  to  have  been  "  in  a  state  verging 
upon  intoxication." 

Thence  she  proceeded  to  Bordeaux,  with  her 
little  son,  the  Due  d'Enghien,  whom  she  had 
taught  to  play  his  part.  Led  by  the  hand,  the 
child  made  his  appeal  to  the  Parlement  in 
the  Palais  de  Justice  :  "  Pray  be  a  father  to 
me,  gentlemen,  for  Cardinal  Mazarin  has  taken 
my  own  father  from  me."  The  Parlement 
hesitated,  but  the  mob  insisted.  It  was  voted 
that  "the  Princesse  de  Conde*  and  the  Due 
d'Enghien,  her  son,  may  reside  in  the  town  in 
safety,  under  the  protection  of  the  laws.''  On 
the  following  day,  the  mob  insisted  on  the 


i8o  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

admission  of  La  Rochefoucauld  and  the  Due 
de  Bouillon ;  and  very  soon  Guienne  was  in 
open  revolt  against  the  crown,  and  Bordeaux 
had  to  stand  a  siege  :  a  siege  in  which  there 
were  many  scenes  thoroughly  typical  of  this 
war,  in  which  the  aristocracy  fought,  as  it  were, 
in  kid  gloves,  while  the  people  suffered. 

We  hear  of  the  little  Due  d'Enghien  con- 
ducted to  the  ramparts,  and  there  calling  for 
a  sword  in  order  that  he  might  "  kill  Mazarin." 
We  hear  of  the  Princesse  de  Conde  herself, 
accompanied  by  ladies  of  rank  and  fashion, 
carrying  baskets  of  earth,  decorated  with  bows 
of  ribbon,  to  the  trenches.  We  hear  of  Bouillon 
and  La  Rochefoucauld  conducting  themselves 
as  if  at  a  picnic,  and  "  regaling  the  ladies  with 
fruit  and  confectionery."  WTe  hear,  finally,  that 
the  Princesse  de  Conde  held  nightly  receptions 
on  the  ramparts,  and  that  there  was  dancing. 
One  needs  those  details,  as  well  as  the  stories 
of  battles,  sallies,  charges,  and  skirmishes — as 
well  as  the  stories  of  pillage  and  starvation — 
if  the  wars  of  the  Fronde  are  to  be  fully  and 
faithfully  realised. 

The  principal  disputants  were  presently  to 
shake  hands,  make  friends,  and  admit  that  they 
had  misunderstood  each  other.  "  ^ho  would 
have  believed,  a  week  ago/'  Mazarin  asked 
on  that  occasion,  "  that  we  should  be  riding 
in  the  same  coach  to-day  ?  "  '  Tout  arrive 
en  France/'  La  Rochefoucauld  then  made 
answer.  But  in  the  meantime  thousands  of 


MME  DE  LONGUEVILLE          181 

persons  who  had  no  real  concern  in  the  quarrel 
had  perished  in  helping  to  bring  it  to  a  settle- 
ment ;  and,  in  the  meantime  also,  Madame  de 
Longueville  was  devoting  herself,  with  per- 
tinacity and  cunning,  to  the  execution  of  her 
plans,  though  there  was  one  step  of  possible 
utility  which  she  did  not  take — she  did  not 
make  love  to  Turenne,  though  that  great 
commander  seems  to  have  been  most  anxious 
for  her  to  do  so. 

"  M.  de  Turenne/'  we  read  in  one  of  her 
Lives,  "  did  not  confine  himself  to  directing  the 
political  enterprises  of  this  princess ;  he  made 
her  the  most  tender  declarations,  which,  how- 
ever, she  did  not  receive  with  all  the  gratitude 
that  he  expected  ;  for  it  is  said  that  she  jested 
much  about  them  with  La  Moussaye,  Governor 
of  Stenai." 

The  consequences,  however,  of  her  rejection 
of  his  addresses  were  not  so  disastrous  as  they 
might  have  been.  Turenne  and  Mme  de 
Longueville  remained  allies ;  and  she  was  able 
to  accomplish  by  intrigue  what  he  failed  to 
achieve  by  force.  Mazarin,  who  had  himself 
been  a  soldier  before  he  became  a  priest,  beat 
Turenne  badly  at  the  battle  of  Rethel ;  but 
Madame  de  Longueville  "worked"  the  Paris 
Parlement  in  favour  of  the  Princes  with  the 
result  that  Mazarin  thought  it  well  to  release 
them.  She  was  clever  enough,  in  short,  to 
bring  about  an  alliance  between  the  Fronde 


182  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

of  the  Parlement  and  the  Fronde  of  the  Noble 
Lords ;  and  Mazarin  was  so  much  impressed 
that  he  bowed  low  to  Conde,  and  even,  if 
Mile  de  Montpensier  may  be  trusted,  "  kissed 
his  boot." 

He  kissed  it,  however,  if  at  all,  hypocriti- 
cally, and  with  mental  reservations.  His  ob- 
ject was  to  split  the  coalition,  and  presently 
he  attained  it.  Before  very  long,  Conde  was 
once  more  in  fear  of  arrest,  once  more  in 
flight,  and  once  more  in  the  field  ;  and  Madame 
de  Longueville  was  one  of  those  who  urged 
him  to  fight  instead  of  making  terms.  Turenne 
turned  against  him,  but  she  stuck  to  him  to 
the  last ;  this  being  the  period  of  the  Fronde 
to  which  belongs  Mile  de  Montpensier' s  remark- 
able ride  to  Orleans — ground  which  there  is 
no  need  for  us  to  cover  a  second  time.  Made- 
moiselle slips  out  of  the  story  at  the  time  of 
Conde' s  evacuation  of  Paris ;  but  Madame  de 
Longueville  continued  the  resistance  at  Bor- 
deaux, where  the  attempt  was  made  to  weave 
intrigues,  not  only  with  Spain,  but  also  with 
England. 

The  attempt  came  to  nothing  :  for  a  season 
the  Frondeurs  had  shaken  the  power  of  abso- 
lute monarchy  in  France ;  but,  in  the  end, 
having  kicked  their  last  feudal  kick,  they  found 
themselves  beaten  to  their  knees.  Treachery 
accelerated  the  end — Conde' s  own  brother, 
Conti,  deserted  him ;  but  it  was  recognised 
that  it  would  be  futile  even  to  tempt  Madame 


MME  DE   LONGUEVILLE          183 

de  Longueville.  "  Madame  de  Longueville," 
writes  Abbe  de  Cosnax,  who  had  a  hand  in 
the  treachery,  "  was  so  attached  to  the  interests 
of  Monsieur  le  Prince  that  she  would  never 
have  consented  to  any  treaty  of  peace  in  which 
he  did  not  participate  "  :  a  just  tribute,  so  far 
as  it  goes,  and  thoroughly  well  deserved. 
Madame  de  Longueville  was  not  only  as  brave 
as  she  was  clever,  but  also  as  loyal  as  she  was 
brave.  One  is  compelled  to  admire  her,  though 
equally  compelled  to  make  certain  reservations 
in  doing  so. 

Loyalty  is  always  admirable ;  but  conceptions 
of  loyalty  vary  from  age  to  age,  and  Madame 
de  Longueville' s  conception  of  it  cannot  but 
strike  a  modern  reader  as  wrong-headed.  She 
could  not  rise  to  the  height  of  Montesquieu's 
doctrine  that  the  claims  of  one's  province  should 
be  preferred  to  the  claims  of  one's  commune, 
and  the  claims  of  one's  country  to  those  of  one's 
province.  Family  quarrels,  it  seemed  to  her, 
were  the  things  which  really  mattered  :  it  was 
natural,  and  right,  and  proper  to  fight  for  her 
brother  against  her  King,  to  the  injury  of  the 
interests  of  France,— and  that  even  to  the 
point  of  entering  into  treacherous  relations  with 
foreign  Powers.  But  there  was  nothing  charac- 
teristically feminine  in  that  view  of  the  matter. 
It  was  the  common  doctrine  of  the  aristocrats 
of  the  ancien  regime,  largely  acquiesced  in 
by  the  common  people,  and  not  finally  shat- 
tered until  the  storm  of  Rousseau's  eloquence 


184  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

broke  against  it.  No  feelings  appear  to  have 
been  outraged  because,  when  the  war  ended, 
the  principal  rebels  were  treated  leniently, 
whereas  a  common  man — a  retired  butcher — 
was  broken  on  the  wheel. 

Yet  Madame  de  Longueville  did  ultimately 
come  to  realise  that  she  had  made  mischief, 
and  that  the  consequences  of  that  mischief 
had  involved  innumerable  innocent  sufferers  : 
that  her  brother's  soldiers,  and  Mazarin's  sol- 
diers also,  had  comported  themselves  as  high- 
way robbers  ;  that  the  mortality  in  battle  had 
been  largely  exceeded  by  the  mortality  due  to 
disease  and  destitution  ;  that  the  pleasant  land 
of  France  had  become  a  wilderness,  depopulated, 
but  with  an  undue  proportion  of  widows  and 
orphans,  with  three  thousand  paupers  clamour- 
ing for  relief  in  the  town  of  Laon  alone. 
Realising  these  things,  she  became  religious, 
and  spent  a  great  deal  of  her  time  on  her  knees 
in  nunneries,  and  was  particularly  attracted 
by  the  austere  ways  of  the  Jansenists.  A 
remarkable  tribute  is  paid  to  her  by  one  of 
the  historians  of  Port-Royal  : 

"  Thou  hast  without  doubt  written  the  reward 
of  this  princess  in  heaven,  where  I  shall  pre- 
sently behold  it,  and  Thou  waitest  for  Thy  great 
day  to  overwhelm  her  with  the  glory  which 
she  has  justly  merited  for  her  good  works.  .  .  . 
She  suffered  in  patience  the  insults  of  the 
proud.  She  knew  the  scornful  things  which 


MME  DE  LONGUEVILLE 


were  said  of  her,  and  people  did  not  blush  to 
call  her  the  shame  and  the  ignominy  of  the 
royal  family.  Thou  wilt  cause  them  to  see 
that  she  was  its  ornament ;  and  Saint  Louis, 
without  doubt,  will  not  blush  for  her  in  heaven." 

Which  seems  to  show  that,  in  the  view  of 
some  devout  witnesses,  the  roads  which  lead 
to  heaven  are  as  many  and  as  tortuous  as 
those  which  lead  to  Rome. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

The  insurrection  in  La  Vendee — Various  women  warriors — Mme 
de  Larochejaquelein — Success  and  failure — The  crossing  of  the 
Loire. 

THE  eighteenth-century  aspects  of  our  subject 
have  already  been  glanced  at ;  and  we  may  now 
pass  straight  on  to  the  Revolution.  We  find, 
when  we  come  to  it,  that  the  line  between 
military  and  political  activity  is  not  very  sharply 
drawn, — except  in  the  case  of  such  definite 
soldiers  as  the  demoiselles  de  Fernig  and  Mme 
Sans-Gene ;  and  there  is  nothing  for  it  but  to 
pick  and  choose  capriciously.  There  shall  be 
nothing,  therefore,  about  the  storming  of  the 
Bastille,  though  women  bore  pikes  in  the 
assault ;  nothing  about  Theroigne  de  Meri- 
court,  though  she  led  the  women  who  marched 
to  Versailles  and  carried  the  King  and  Queen 
and  Dauphin  back  in  triumph  to  Paris  ;  nothing 
about  Mme  Roland  or  Charlotte  Corday,  though 
their  careers  could  be  linked  with  insurrec- 
tionary movements  in  Normandy.  But  there 
shall  be  a  chapter  about  Mme  de  Laroche- 
jaquelein and  her  adventures  in  the  war  of 
La  Vendee. 

She  was  not  a  heroine  of  the  stamp  of  Jeanne 

1 86 


LA  VENDEE  187 

d'Arc.  She  did  not  play  at  soldiers  like  Mile 
de  Montpensier,  or  pull  the  strings  of  intrigue 
like  Mme  de  Longueville.  But  she  saw  much 
hard  fighting  and  cruel  suffering,  and  she  was 
a  part  of  what  she  saw  and  has  chronicled 
her  experiences  fully  and  faithfully.  One  can 
sympathise  and  admire,  even  though  one  feels 
her  to  have  been  wrong-headed.  At  the  most, 
she  was  only  one  wrong-headed  person  among 
many;  for  "wrong-headed"  is  an  epithet  ap- 
plicable to  the  whole  Vendee  business. 

A  great  deal  of  wrong-headed  admiration 
has  been  wasted  on  the  Vendean  peasants  be- 
cause they  were  loyal  and  religious ;  because 
they  served  God,  honoured  and  obeyed  the  King, 
and  behaved  respectfully  to  their  landlords. 
Their  only  virtue  was  in  fact  their  courage,  which 
is  not  to  be  denied.  For  the  rest,  they  were 
priest-ridden  boors,  whose  brains  were  impene- 
trable fog-banks ;  devoid  of  any  sense  of  the 
solidarity  of  the  interests  of  France,  stubbornly 
resolved  to  set  their  own  interests  above  those 
of  their  country,  submissive  only  to  the  local 
authority  of  the  territorial  magnates.  They 
remind  one,  in  short,  of  the  peasants  whom 
the  poet  represents  as  singing  : 

God  bless  the  squire  and  his  relations, 
And  keep  us  in  our  proper  stations. 

It  is  a  significant  fact  that  they  began  their 
revolt  on  the  very  day  on  which  the  Republic 
abolished,  without  compensation,  those  feudal 


188  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

privileges  which  had  been   among   the  worst 
evils  of  the  ancien  regime. 

But  that,  of  course,  was  not  their  grievance. 
Though  the  feudal  lords  of  their  neighbourhood 
had  been  lenient  in  the  exercise  of  their  privi- 
leges, the  abolition  of  the  corvee  would  hardly 
by  itself  have  exasperated  their  dependents 
to  the  point  of  civil  war.  The  thing  which 
they  really,  fundamentally,  and  unwaveringly 
objected  to  was  compulsory  military  service 
at  a  distance  from  their  homes.  They  had 
objected  to  it  while  Louis  XVI  was  on  the 
throne,  just  as  keenly  as  they  objected  to  it 
after  his  deposition,  and  their  passive  resistance 
had  generally  enabled  them  to  evade  it.  The 
Republic,  however,  would  not  stand  the  non- 
sense which  the  King  had  stood.  The  country 
being  in  danger,  it  decreed  the  levee  en  masse, 
and  proceeded  to  enforce  it.  That,  rather  than 
the  persecution  of  the  King  and  the  priests, 
was  the  governmental  act  which  stirred  the 
hornets'  nest.  The  proof  is  in  one  of  their 
own  proclamations  : 

"  No  militia  !  Let  us  live  in  peace  in  our 
own  part  of  the  country  !  You  say  that  the 
enemy  is  coming,  and  threatens  our  home- 
steads !  Very  well !  We  are  quite  able  to  de- 
fend our  homesteads  against  him  if  he  comes  !  " 

Which  meant,  of  course,  as  Michelet  points 
out  in  a  cunning  paraphrase  : 


LA  VENDEE  189 

"  Let  the  enemy  come  !  Let  the  Austrian 
armies,  with  their  Pandours  and  Croats,  rav- 
age France  as  much  as  they  please  !  What 
does  France  matter  to  Vendee  ?  Lorraine  and 
Champagne  may  be  overrun  with  fire  and 
sword ;  but  Lorraine  and  Champagne  are  not 
Vendee.  Paris  may  perish  ;  the  eye  of  the 
world  may  be  put  out ;  but  what  does  that 
matter  to  Vendee  ?  Never  mind  about  France  ! 
Never  mind  about  the  world !  Time  enough 
for  us  to  look  to  our  safety  when  we  see  the 
enemy's  horsemen  from  behind  our  hedges  !  " 

Not  a  very  elevated  sentiment,  truly  ;  but 
a  very  convenient  sentiment  for  those  who 
laid  themselves  out  to  exploit  it  in  the  interests 
of  the  royal  family  of  France,  even  at  the 
risk  of  rending  France  asunder  while  .her 
hereditary  enemies  thundered  at  the  gate. 
And  they  exploited  it,  of  course,  without  any 
qualms  of  conscience,  having  been  brought  up 
to  believe  that  Kings  ruled  by  divine  right,  and 
that  the  privileges  of  landlords  had  the  same 
sacred  origin,  and  having  always  been  too 
much  occupied  with  gaiety  and  field  sports  to 
examine  those  propositions,  even  when  they 
heard  that  wicked  philosophers,  like  Jean 
Jacques  Rousseau,  were  questioning  them.  That 
point  in  their  mentality  made  clear,  we  may 
proceed  to  study  their  performances,  and  the 
part  which  Mme  de  Larochejaquelein  played 
in  them. 


WOMEN   IN   WAR 

One  calls  her  Mme  de  Larochejaquelein  be- 
cause that  was  her  name  when  she  published 
her  Memoirs ;  but  Louis  de  Larochejaquelein 
was  her  second  husband,  and  she  did  not  marry 
him  till  after  the  war  was  over  :  at  the  time 
of  the  revolt  she  was  Mme  de  Lescure.  Her 
father  was  gentleman-in-waiting  to  the  Comte 
de  Provence  (afterwards  Louis  XVIII);  her 
mother  lady-in-waiting  to  the  King's  sister 
Mme  Victoire.  She  had  the  King  for  her 
godfather,  and  was  born  at  Versailles,  and 
lived  in  the  Palace  there  until  that  6th  of 
October,  when  the  mob  took  the  royal  family 
to  Paris.  One  of  her  aunts  followed  the  Prin- 
cesses when  they  fled  to  Rome. 

Married  at  the  age  of  nineteen  to  the  Marquis 
de  Lescure,  who  was  twenty-five,  she  left 
Poitou  for  Paris  in  February  1792.  Her  hus- 
band meant  to  emigrate  and  join  the  army  of 
Conde  ;  but  Marie  Antoinette  pressed  him  to 
remain.  Consequently  the  family  was  still 
in  Paris  on  that  loth  of  August  when  the  mob 
stormed  the  Tuileries  and  massacred  the  Swiss 
Guard.  Their  lives  were  in  peril :  they  had 
to  disguise  themselves  and  hide,  and  only 
succeeded  in  obtaining  passports  for  their 
return  to  Poitou  by  the  help  of  a  commissary 
of  police,  who  had  once  been  M.  de  Lescure' s 
tutor,  and  who  now  drove  with  them  in  his 
uniform,  shouting  "Vive  la  nation!"  at  inter- 
vals, prepared  to  sacrifice  everybody  and  every- 
thing to  their  safety — as  he  proved  when  the 


LA  VENDEE  191 

party  met  a  company  of  the  Marseillais  on  the 
road  : 

"  The  postilion  took  it  into  his  head  to  drive 
through  the  very  middle  of  them,  throwing 
down  two  or  three.  In  an  instant  we  saw 
guns  levelled  at  us.  M.  Thomassin  showed 
himself  at  the  coach-door.  '  My  comrades/ 
said  he  to  them,  '  kill  that  rascal.  Vive  la 
nation  / '  " 

Thus  they  progressed  to  their  estate,  the 
Chateau  de  Clisson ;  and  M.  de  Lescure' s 
cousin,  Henri  de  Larochejacquelein — the  brother 
of  the  Louis  de  Larochejaquelein  whom  Mme 
de  Lescure  was  ultimately  to  marry — joined 
the  party.  It  is  to  be  noted  that  Mme  de 
Lescure,  at  that  stage,  could  not  even  ride, 
and  was  timorous  :  when  the  excitement  began 
and  the  gendarmes  came  to  the  chateau  to 
requisition  horses,  she  "  wept/'  she  says,  "  from 
fear/'  But  she  was  to  find  her  courage  when 
she  needed  it ;  and  she  was  to  need  it  very  soon. 
All  aristocrats  were  "  suspect  "  ;  and  the  hour 
was  coming  for  all  suspects  to  be  arrested. 
The  gendarmes  were  very  polite  about  it,  but 
quite  firm.  Mme  de  Lescure  and  her  mother 
were  taken  to  Bressuire,  and  locked  up  in  the 
house  of  a  grocer,  with  a  pressing  caution  not 
to  excite  popular  animosity  by  showing  them- 
selves at  the  windows. 

That  was  her  position  when  the  rising  began, 
and  "  a  reinforcement  of  four  hundred  Mar- 


192  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

seillais  arrived  and  insisted  upon  putting  the 
prisoners  to  death."  She  heard  them,  from 
her  hiding-place,  singing  their  patriotic  songs : 
eleven  peasants  were  marched  beneath  her 
window  to  the  place  of  execution,  where  they 
were  cut  down  with  sabres  while  they  knelt 
in  prayer  ;  it  was  fortunate  for  her  that  these 
self-appointed  executioners  did  not  know  her 
whereabouts.  Even  when  the  royalist  attack 
was  compelling  the  republicans  to  retire  in 
disorder,  she  did  not  feel  safe  : 

"  During  this  retreat  we  expected  our  fate, 
not  supposing  that  we  should  be  overlooked 
entirely.  Our  window  shutters  were  closed, 
and  every  time  we  heard  a  company  halt  before 
our  door  we  imagined  that  they  had  come  to 
seize  us.  At  last,  by  degrees,  they  evacuated 
the  town,  without  having  remembered  us,  and 
we  were  free." 

And  then  they  went  back  to  Clisson,  where 
Mme  de  Lescure  began  to  make  white  cockades, 
while  the  gentlemen  fomented  the  conspiracy, 
and  performed  military  exercises  in  the  court- 
yard :  one  may  suppose  that  Mme  de  Lescure, 
at  the  same  time,  took  the  opportunity  of  learn- 
ing to  ride.  A  few  days  later,  La  Vendee  was 
in  a  blaze  ;  and  Mme  de  Larochejaquelein  was 
acting  as  her  husband's  aide-de-camp  and 
secretary.  She  "  galloped  off,"  when  necessary  ; 
she  "  had  the  tocsin  sounded  "  :  she  "  delivered 


LA  VENDEE  193 

requisitions";  she  "  sent  expresses  to  the 
neighbouring  villages  "  ;  she  "  harangued  the 
peasants  to  the  best  of  my  ability" ;  etc.,  etc. 
Her  power  to  write  a  very  small  and  legible 
hand  was  particularly  useful :  she  was  employed 
to  copy  out  an  appeal  for  help  which  was  to  be 
sent  to  England,  concealed  in  the  wadding  of 
the  emissary's  pistols. 

The  war  was  a  guerilla  war,  without  any 
concerted  plan  of  operations ;  the  peasant 
partisans  were  continually  disbanding  and  re- 
assembling, claiming  the  right  to  revisit  their 
homes  in  the  intervals  between  the  battles ;  no 
general  staff  combined  and  no  intelligence  depart- 
ment recorded  their  movements.  Consequently 
it  would  be  idle  to  attempt  any  systematic  ac- 
count of  the  vicissitudes  of  the  struggle,  though 
such  accounts  have,  in  fact,  been  pieced  together 
by  military  experts.  A  few  anecdotes — a  few 
pictures — are  all  that  there  is  space  for  ;  and 
we  must  first  single  out  the  stories  which  Mme 
de  Larochejaquelein  tells  us  of  the  women  who 
actually  bore  arms  against  the  Blues. 

According  to  the  Blues  there  were  quite  a 
number  of  them  ;  according  to  Mme  de  Laroche- 
jaquelein that  allegation  was  their  false  excuse 
for  the  atrocities  which  they  perpetrated.  "  I 
do  not  believe,"  she  writes,  "  there  were  in  all 
ten  women  bearing  arms  disguised  as  men  "  ;  but 
about  some  of  the  ten  she  gives  us  particulars  : 

"  I    saw    two    sisters,    fourteen   and   fifteen 
13 


194  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

years  old,  who  were  very  courageous.  In  the 
army  of  M.  de  Bonchamp,  a  young  woman 
became  a  dragoon  to  avenge  the  death  of  her 
father,  and  performed  prodigies  of  valour  during 
the  whole  war,  under  the  name  of  L'Angevine. 
...  I  one  day  saw  a  young  woman,  tall  and 
beautiful,  with  pistols  and  a  sabre  hung  at  her 
girdle,  come  to  Chollet,  accompanied  by  two 
other  women,  armed  with  pikes.  She  brought 
a  spy  to  my  father,  who  interrogated  her.  She 
told  him  she  was  from  the  parish  of  Tout-le- 
Monde,  and  that  the  women  kept  guard  there 
when  the  men  were  absent  in  the  army." 

And  then  there  is  the  story  of  the  woman 
whom  the  Republicans  found  dead  after  the 
battle  of  Thouars,  and  supposed  to  have  "  passed 
among  the  Vendeens  for  an  inspired  Maid,  like 
Jeanne  d'Arc."  She  had  never,  according  to 
Mme  de  Larochejaquelein,  passed  for  anything 
of  the  kind;  nothing  of  the  kind  having  ever 
been  encouraged  by  the  Vendean  leaders : 

"  The  generals  had  not  only  strictly  pro- 
hibited any  women  from  following  the  army, 
but  declared  that  any  found  there  should  be 
ejected  with  ignominy  ;  and  during  the  short 
periods  in  which  the  troops  were  assembled, 
even  female  sutlers  were  not  allowed  to  attend." 

But  Mme  de  Larochejaquelein  had  known 
the  Maid  in  question,  and  had  even  corresponded 
about  her  with  the  vicar  of  her  parish,  who 


LA  VENDEE  195 

replied  that  "  she  was  a  very  good  girl,  but  that 
he  had  been  unable  to  dissuade  her  from  be- 
coming a  soldier,  and  that  she  had  taken  the 
sacrament  immediately  before  leaving  home." 
So  she  became  a  soldier — with  what  result 
Mme  de  Larochejaquelein  tells  us : 

"  The  evening  before  the  battle  she  sought 
for  M.  de  Lescure,  and,  addressing  him,  said, 
'  General,  I  am  a  woman  !  Mme  de  Lescure 
knows  it,  and  also  that  my  character  is  good. 
To-morrow  there  is  to  be  a  battle ;  let  me  have 
a  pair  of  shoes;  I  am  sure  that  I  shall  fight 
so  that  you  will  not  send  me  away/  She 
fought,  indeed,  under  the  eye  of  M.  de  Lescure, 
and  called  to  him,  '  General,  you  must  not  pass 
me;  I  shall  always  be  nearer  the  Blues  than 
you/  She  was  wounded  in  the  hand,  but  this 
only  animated  her  the  more,  and,  showing  the 
wound  to  him,  she  said,  '  This  is  nothing/ 
Rushing  furiously  into  the  thickest  part  of  the 
engagement,  she  perished." 

There  must  have  been,  altogether,  about 
100,000  royalists  in  arms  in  La  Vendee ;  and, 
as  the  country  was  denuded  of  regular  troops, 
they  began  by  carrying  everything  before 
them.  Properly  led  and  obedient  to  discipline, 
they  might  very  well  have  overrun  France' ; 
but  they  had  no  desire  to  venture  far  from 
home,  and  presently  certain  prisoners  of  war 
—released  by  the  enemy  on  the  understanding 
that  they  would  not  serve  against  the  Coalition 


196  WOMEN  IN   WAR 

for  a  year — were  available  to  be  turned  against 
them.  Their  most  ambitious  enterprise  was 
the  attempt  to  take  Nantes ;  but,  though 
Angers  and  Saumur  had  fallen  to  them,  Nantes 
was  not  to  fall.  General  Canclaux  was  a  match 
for  them  :  they  got  into  the  suburbs,  but  they 
did  not  get  into  the  town ;  and,  though  they 
were  not  pursued  when  they  retired,  the  repulse 
was  the  turning-point  of  their  fortunes.  Catheli- 
neau  had  been  killed  ;  Biron  and  Westermann 
were  after  them. 

They  were  by  no  means  done  for,  but  were 
still  to  win  several  bloody  battles,  being  always, 
to  the  last,  very  formidable  when  on  the  defen- 
sive. Both  Biron  and  Westermann  were  to 
be  recalled  to  Paris,  and  guillotined,  like  so 
many  other  unsuccessful  generals.  It  was  a 
case,  however,  of  winning  battles,  but  losing 
the  campaign — and  not  all  the  battles  were  won. 
In  particular  the  Vendeans  lost  the  battle  of 
Tremblaye,  where  M.  de  Lescure  was  dan- 
gerously wounded,  and  the  battle  of  Chollet. 
The  net  result  of  the  battles  was  that  they 
were  rounded  up  on  the  banks  of  the  Loire, 
and  decided  to  cross  it,  and  see  whether  fortune 
would  favour  them  better  on  the  northern  bank 
of  the  river.  It  is  the  point  at  which  Mme  de 
Larochejaquelein's  narrative  once  more  becomes 
personal. 

War,  it  would  seem,  had  not  been  her  sole 
occupation  during  the  period  of  revolt.  "  I 
was  three  months  gone  with  child/'  she  said  ; 


LA  VENDEE  197 

"  my    situation   was   shocking/'     This   is    her 
description  of  the  scene  : 

"  The  heights  of  Saint-Florent  form  a  kind 
of  semi-circular  boundary  to  a  vast  level  strand 
reaching  to  the  Loire,  which  is  very  wide  at 
this  place.  Eighty  thousand  people  were 
crowded  together  in  this  valley ;  soldiers, 
women,  children,  the  aged,  and  the  wounded, 
flying  from  immediate  destruction.  Behind 
them  they  perceived  the  smoke  rising  from  the 
villages  the  republicans  were  burning.  No- 
thing was  heard  but  loud  sobs,  groans,  and 
cries.  .  .  .  Twenty  bad  boats  carried  succes- 
sively the  fugitives  who  crowded  in  them ; 
others  tried  to  cross  on  horses  ;  all  spread  out 
their  arms  towards  the  other  side,  supplicating 
to  be  taken  there.  .  .  .  Many  of  us  compared 
this  disorder,  this  despair,  this  terrible  uncer- 
tainty of  the  future,  this  immense  spectacle, 
this  bewildering  crowd,  this  valley,  this  stream 
which  must  be  crossed,  to  our  idea  of  the  last 
judgment/' 

To  add  to  the  horror,  there  was  a  dis- 
pute whether  the  Republican  prisoners — some 
5,000  in  number — should  or  should  not  be 
massacred  before  the  crossing.  M.  de  Lescure, 
lying  helpless  on  a  mattress,  pleaded  for  their 
lives  ;  and  they  were  spared.  Mme  de  Lescure 
had  to  arrange  for  the  crossing,  not  only  of 
her  wounded  husband,  but  also  of  her  little 
child  ;  the  latter  being  wrapped  in  his  bed- 


198  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

clothes  and  put  in  an  arm-chair  covered  with 
a  kind  of  mattress.  "  We  descended,"  she 
writes,  "  from  Saint-Florent  to  the  shore,  in 
the  middle  of  the  crowd.  Many  officers  accom- 
panied us.  They  drew  their  sabres,  made  a 
circle  round  us,  and  we  arrived  at  the  edge  of 
the  water."  Thus  they  were  rowed  over  to  a 
half-burnt  hamlet,  where  Mme  de  Lescure  sent 
for  some  milk  for  her  child,  while  her  father 
went  to  look  for  her  mother  : 

"  Varades  is  a  quarter  of  a  league  distant, 
on  the  side  of  a  hill.  M.  de  Lescure  was  im- 
patient to  arrive  there.  The  weather  was 
clear,  but  the  wind  was  cold.  They  placed  two 
pikes  under  the  arm-chair,  and  the  soldiers 
carried  it.  My  femme-de-chambre  and  myself 
supported  his  feet,  wrapped  up  in  napkins." 

At  Varades  there  was  an  alarm  of  an  attack  : 

"  I  had  never  found  myself  so  near  a  battle, 
and  what  a  moment  to  be  attacked !  I  stopped, 
quite  terrified.  The  firing  reanimated  M.  de 
Lescure,  who  was  almost  insensible.  He  asked 
what  it  was.  I  entreated  him  to  let  himself 
be  carried  to  a  neighbouring  wood.  He  an- 
swered that  the  Blues  would  do  him  a  service 
by  despatching  him,  and  that  the  balls  would 
hurt  him  less  than  the  cold  and  wind.  I  did 
not  listen  to  him  ;  he  was  carried  into  the  wood  ; 
my  child  was  brought  after  me,  and  many 
other  people  took  refuge  in  it." 


LA  VENDEE  199 

The  noise  of  the  firing,  however,  rolled  away  ; 
and  presently  the  march  could  be  begun.  A 
peasant  of  the  neighbourhood  proposed  to  hide 
M.  de  Lescure  and  the  child  ;  but  the  proposal 
was  not  accepted  : 

"  I  was  tempted  to  take  advantage  of  this 
offer  for  my  child ;  but  the  fear  that  it  would 
be  carried  to  the  foundling  hospital,  or  that 
they  would  not  take  enough  care  of  it,  and  the 
hope  that  she  would  continue  in  good  health, 
determined  me  to  keep  her.  I  could  not  make 
up  my  mind  to  part  with  so  dear  a  thing  ;  and 
we  all  wished,  at  that  time,  to  run  common 
dangers,  and  share  a  common  fate." 

So  they  set  out,  M.  de  Lescure  crying  aloud 
from  the  pain  caused  by  the  jolting  of  the  cart 
in  which  he  had  been  placed.  Another  means 
of  conveying  him  had  to  be  found  ;  and  we 
will  conclude  this  chapter  with  another  of  Mme 
de  Larochejaquelein's  graphic  pictures  of  the 
procession  of  the  fugitives  : 

"  We  had  a  kind  of  litter  made  from  an  old 
arm-chair  ;  we  put  hoops  over  it,  and  hung 
sheets,  to  keep  the  air  from  the  poor  sufferer. 
I  determined  to  walk  near  the  litter  with  my 
maid  Agatha  and  some  of  my  people.  My 
mother,  my  aunt,  and  my  child  were  gone 
before.  Families  and  friends  walked  together, 
and  tried  to  keep  united.  Each  had  protectors 
among  the  officers  and  soldiers.  .  .  .  M.  de 


200  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

Lescure  uttered  such  cries  as  harrowed  my 
very  soul.  I  was  overcome  with  fatigue  and 
distress.  My  boots  wounded  my  feet.  We 
travelled  between  two  files  of  cavalry,  and 
a  fairly  large  body  of  infantry  marched  be- 
hind us.  .  .  .  The  rear-guard  .  .  .  was  specially 
charged  with  guarding  M.  de  Lescure/1 

And  then,  when  there  was  a  false  report  that 
the  hussars  were  charging  the  fugitives  : 

"  Reason  failed  me  ;  my  first  idea  was  to  fly. 
But  then  I  recollected  that  I  was  with  M.  de 
Lescure.  Doubting  my  own  courage,  and  fear- 
ing that  the  approach  of  the  hussars  would 
strike  me  with  an  involuntary  and  invincible 
terror,  I  entered  quickly  into  the  carriage, 
without  telling  the  reason,  to  make  it  impossible 
for  me  not  to  perish  with  my  husband. " 

And  so  along  the  road  to  the  coast. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

The  check  at  Granville — The  check  at  Angers — Dispersal  of  the 
royalist  army — Mme  de  Larochejaquelein  in  hiding — Ther- 
midor  and  the  subsequent  amnesty. 

THE  royalists,  though  in  retreat,  did  not  regard 
themselves  as  beaten  :  they  had  plenty  of  fight 
in  them  still,  and  soon  formed  an  aggressive 
plan  of  campaign.  They  would  raise  Brittany, 
raise  Normandy;  they  would  seize  a  port  on 
the  Channel,  and  receive  reinforcements  from 
England.  The  port  of  Granville  was  chosen 
as  their  objective. 

Seeing  that  they  were  marching,  encumbered 
by  their  wounded,  their  women,  and  their 
children,  in  a  column  several  miles  long,  a 
competent  general  would  have  had  no  great 
difficulty  in  cutting  the  straggling  column  in 
half,  and  throwing  it  into  disorder.  General 
Lechelle,  who  opposed  them,  however,  was 
equally  timorous  and  incapable.  He  attacked 
the  head  of  the  column  with  only  a  portion 
of  his  forces,  and  was  badly  beaten,  afterwards 
committing  suicide — presumably  in  order  to 
avoid  the  guillotine.  The  royalists  won  three 
battles  in  two  days,  and  other  battles  at 
longer  intervals,  and  swept  on  in  triumph, 
believing  that  all  was  well. 


201 


202  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

But  just  as  Nantes  had  held  them  up  before, 
so  Granville  held  them  up  now.  The  expected 
English  help  was  not  forthcoming  :  on  the 
contrary,  French  men-of-war  came  out  from 
Saint-Malo  and  cannonaded  them.  They  spent 
thirty-six  hours  in  front  of  Granville,  losing 
about  200  men  ;  and  then  the  rank  and  file 
exclaimed  that  they  had  had  enough,  and 
clamoured  to  be  taken  back  to  their  own 
country.  So  the  retreat  began,  with  the  winter 
setting  in.  They  could  still  win  battles,  though 
the  campaign  was  lost ;  but  they  did  not  win 
all  the  battles.  At  last  they  sustained  crushing 
defeats  at  Le  Mans  and  Sacenay  ;  and  the  war, 
after  those  disasters,  was  little  more  than 
brigandage,  difficult  to  suppress,  but  not  in 
a  military  sense  formidable.  Carrier  was  at 
Nantes,  guillotining  and  drowning  the  refugees. 

That  outline  sketched,  we  will  turn  to  Mme 
de  Larochejaquelein  for  the  details  in  so  far 
as  they  concerned  her. 

Her  husband,  too  enfeebled  by  his  wound  to 
retain  the  command,  passed  it  on  to  his  cousin, 
Henri  de  Larochejaquelein,  a  mere  lad  of 
one-and-twenty.  He  got  a  little  better  during 
the  halt  at  Laval,  but  he  soon  relapsed,  and 
died.  His  wife  wished  to  have  his  body  em- 
balmed and  placed  in  the  carriage  with  her  ; 
but  that  could  not  be  done.  "  They  repre- 
sented to  me,"  she  says,  "  the  dangers  to  which 
I  exposed  the  child  which  I  bore  in  my  womb." 
She  had  reason,  in  fact,  to  fear  a  miscarriage  : 


LA  VENDEE  203 

she  was  told  that  she  would  inevitably  miscarry 
if  she  were  not  instantly  bled.  A  surgeon 
cupped  her,  and  she  struggled  on,  getting  as 
far  as  Granville,  and  then  turning  back  with 
the  rest.  She  tells  us  how  her  personal  in- 
fluence saved  a  republican  deserter,  whom  the 
royalists  regarded  as  a  republican  spy,  from 
being  shot  : 

"  As  he  finished  his  story  Agatha  came  in, 
exclaiming,  '  Madam,  here  are  the  Germans 
coming  to  take  him  to  execution  !  '  He  threw 
himself  again  at  my  feet  :  I  resolved  to  save 
him.  I  went  up  to  my  father's,  where  the 
council  was  held ;  when  I  was  there,  in  the 
midst  of  the  generals,  they  asked  me  what  I 
wanted.  I  did  not  dare  to  explain  myself,  and 
only  answered,  '  I  came  for  a  glass  of  water/ 
I  went  down  again,  and  with  a  tone  of  authority, 
said  to  the  Germans,  '  You  may  go ;  the 
council  puts  the  prisoner  under  the  guard  of  the 
Chevalier  de  Beauvolliers.'  They  retired.  I 
sent  for  M.  Allard,  and  I  begged  him  to  arrange 
this  affair." 

Splendide  mendax  :  that  action  was  worth 
more  than  the  embroidering  of  banners  and 
the  making  of  white  cockades  for  the  royal 
cause.  Presently  there  was  a  rout,  the  first 
of  several  routs  ;  and  even  those  who  ran  were 
indignant  with  others  for  running  too  : 

"  I    was    among    the    horsemen,    quite    be- 


204  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

wildered,  without  knowing  anybody  or  to  whom 
to  have  recourse.  A  horseman  held  his  sabre 
over  me,  saying,  '  Cowardly  woman,  you  shall 
not  pass/  '  Sir,  I  am  with  child,  and  dying  ; 
have  pity  on  me/  '  Poor  wretch,  I  pity  you/ 
he  answered,  and  he  let  me  pass.  The  soldiers, 
while  flying  themselves,  reproached  the  women 
very  unjustly  for  doing  the  same,  and  for  having 
caused  the  rout  by  their  fears/' 

Yet,  if  we  may  believe  Mme  de  Laroche- 
jaquelein,  it  was  largely  by  the  women  that 
the  rout  was  stopped.  A  boy  nearly  killed  his 
own  mother  for  running  away ;  but,  on  the 
other  hand  : 

"Madame  de  Bonchamp,  who  was  in  the 
town,  rallied  the  men  of  her  husband's  army. 
I  also  wanted  to  oppose  myself  to  the  rout  ; 
but  I  was  so  weak  and  ill  that  I  could  hardly 
stand.  I  saw  at  a  distance  some  of  my  acquaint- 
ances, but  did  not  venture  to  move  to  join 
them,  for  fear  of  adding  to  the  confusion  and 
appearing  to  be  running  away.  A  number  of 
women  showed  prodigious  resolution  and  de- 
cision of  character.  They  stopped  the  run- 
aways, struck  them,  and  opposed  their  passing. 
I  saw  the  femme-de-chambre  of  Mme  de  la 
Chevalerie  take  a  musket  and  put  her  horse 
to  a  gallop,  crying  out  :  '  Forward,  women  of 
Poitou  !  '  " 

That  was  at  Dol.     The  tide  of  battle  was 


LA  VENDEE  205 

turned,  and  "  the  women  were  thanked  for 
the  share  they  had  had  in  this  success/'  The 
army  resumed  its  march,  and  tried  to  take 
Angers,  as  unsuccessfully  as  it  had  tried  to 
take  Granville.  It  was  at  the  attack  upon  An- 
gers that  Mme  de  Larochejaquelein  ventured 
under  fire,  and  was  fetched  back  by  a  horseman 
whom  her  father  sent  after  her.  "  I  experi- 
enced," she  candidly  admits,  "  a  secret  feeling 
of  satisfaction  in  thus  seeing  myself  out  of  the 
danger  which  I  had  gone  to  seek/'  At  Angers, 
too,  Mme  de  Larochejaquelein's  aunt  disap- 
peared ;  and  the  search  for  her  was  vain  : 
'  We  never  knew  the  particulars  of  her  strange 
and  melancholy  disappearance  ;  but  we  heard 
of  her  being  taken  prisoner  and  perishing  on 
the  scaffold,  two  days  afterwards/' 

Then  began  the  march  through  La  Fleche 
to  Le  Mans  ;  and,  on  the  way,  another  of  the 
terrors  which  war  has  for  women  who  are  also 
mothers  was  experienced : 

"  While  I  was  at  La  Fleche,  I  looked  out  for 
an  asylum  for  my  poor  little  girl.  Nobody 
could  undertake  the  charge  of  her,  notwith- 
standing the  rewards  I  offered  ;  she  was  too 
young  to  be  concealed  and  kept  from  crying/' 

At  Le  Mans,  too,  no  refuge  could  be  found 
for  the  child  ;  and  the  royalists  had  hardly 
entered  Le  Mans  when  the  republicans  attacked 
them  there,  and  drove  them  out,  after  a  battle 
in  which  there  were  15,000  casualties.  Mme 


206  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

de  Larochejaquelein  was  swept  away  in  the 
rout : 

"  I  saw  a  young  man  on  horseback  pass  near 
me,  with  a  gentle  countenance.  I  took  his 
hand.  '  Sir/  said  I  to  him,  l  have  pity  on  a 
poor  woman,  sick,  and  with  child.  I  cannot 
go  on/  The  young  man  began  to  cry,  and 
answered,  '  I  am  a  woman  also ;  we  shall 
perish  together,  for  I  cannot  make  my  way  in 
the  street  any  more  than  you  can/  We  both 
stayed  and  waited. " 

Separated  from  her  mother  and  her  child, 
she  picked  them  up  again  at  Laval.  The  next 
halting-place  was  Craon,  where  she  learnt  that 
her  aunt — a  woman  of  eighty — had  been  taken 
at  Angers,  and  shot.  It  was  a  race  now  for  the 
Loire  ;  and  it  was  doubtful  whether  those  who 
reached  it  would  be  able  to  cross.  A  few  suc- 
ceeded, at  Ancenis  ;  but  Mme  de  Larocheja- 
quelein was  one  of  the  many  who  did  not.  She 
found,  at  Ancenis,  a  peasant  woman  who  was 
willing,  for  money,  to  take  charge  of  her  little 
girl :  she  herself  went  on  to  Nort,  where  the 
demoralised  royalist  officers  opened  the  military 
chest  and  divided  its  contents.  From  Nort, 
she  continued  with  the  diminishing  remnant 
to  Blin,  and  from  Blin  to  Savenay.  Her 
description  of  the  dress  of  the  fugitives,  who 
had  by  this  time  worn  out  all  the  clothes  with 
which  they  began  the  campaign,  is  very  graphic : 

"  Besides  my  peasant  dress,   I  had  on  my 


LA  VENDEE  207 

head  a  purple  flannel  hood,  and  an  old  blanket 
wrapped  about  me,  and  a  large  piece  of  blue 
cloth  tied  round  my  neck  with  twine.  I  wore 
three  pairs  of  yellow  worsted  stockings,  and 
green  slippers,  fastened  to  my  feet  with  cord. 
My  horse  had  a  hussar's  saddle  with  a  sheep- 
skin. M.  Roger  Mouliniers  had  a  turban,  and 
a  Turkish  dress  which  he  had  taken  from  the 
theatre  at  La  Fleche.  The  Chevalier  de  Beau- 
volliers  was  wrapped  up  in  a  lawyer's  gown,  and 
had  a  woman's  hat  over  a  flannel  night-cap. 
Mme  d'Armaeille  and  her  children  were  covered 
with  pieces  of  yellow  damask.  M.  de  Verteuil, 
who  was  killed  in  battle,  had  two  petticoats  on, 
one  fastened  round  his  neck,  and  the  other  round 
his  waist." 

It  was  as  if  they  had  dressed  for  a  comic  opera 
and  then  been  called  upon  to  play  a  tragedy  ; 
and  the  last  act  of  the  tragedy  was  near.  At 
Savenay,  Mme  de  Larochejaquelein  was  roused 
from  her  sleep,  and  warned  by  her  friend,  the 
royalist  leader,  M.  de  Marigny : 

"  It  is  all  over,"  he  whispered.  "  We  are 
lost.  To-morrow's  attack  cannot  be  resisted. 
In  twelve  hours  the  army  will  be  exterminated. 
I  hope  to  die.  Try  to  escape.  Save  yourself 
during  the  darkness.  Farewell !  Farewell !  " 

She  set  out  at  midnight  with  her  mother  and 
a  Mile  Mamet.  Their  guide  was  drunk  :  they 
fell  into  many  ditches,  but  they  found  a  refuge 


208  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

for  the  night  at  the  Chateau  de  1'Ecuraye. 
Thence  they  were  conducted  to  a  farm-house 
in  a  wood,  getting  out  by  a  back  door  while  the 
republican  hussars  were  entering  the  courtyard 
of  the  chateau,  and  sent  out  to  tend  sheep,  as 
the  least  suspicious  occupation  available  for 
them.  And  even  that  place  of  refuge  was  not 
final  —no  place  of  refuge  could  be.  The  Blues 
were  everywhere  on  the  prowl,  and  it  fared  ill 
with  any  royalists  whom  they  caught.  It  was 
not  safe  to  stay  long  in  any  one  hiding-place  : 
it  was  often  necessary,  when  the  Blues  were 
known  to  be  coming,  to  hide  in  a  wood,  or  even 
in  a  ditch. 

That  was  the  manner  of  Mme  de  Laroche- 
jaquelein's  life,  all  through  the  winter,  all 
through  the  spring,  all  through  the  summer  : 
sometimes  in  comfortable,  more  often  in  uncom- 
fortable, asylums.  In  these  distressing  con- 
ditions, she  gave  birth  to  twins ;  they  were 
secretly  baptized,  and  their  baptismal  certi- 
ficates were  scratched  on  pewter  plates  with 
a  nail,  and  buried.  In  the  end,  when  the 
severity  of  the  search  was  relaxed,  and  an 
amnesty  was  offered — though  it  was  doubtful 
whom  that  amnesty  would  include  and  whom 
it  would  exempt — she  got  into  Nantes,  "  dressed 
as  a  peasant,  with  a  wallet  on  my  shoulders, 
and  some  fowls  in  my  hand/*  It  was  not  till 
she  got  there  that  she  learnt  the  fate  of  her 
friends. 

Some  of  them  had  been  taken  in  battle  ;  some 


LA  VENDEE  209 

had  been  captured  and  shot ;  others  had  been 
guillotined  or  drowned  in  the  Loire  ;  a  few— 
but  they  were  very  few — had  escaped.  In  the 
last  class  was  included  her  friend,  Mme  de  Bon- 
champ  who,  at  the  time  of  the  dispersal  of  the 
royalists  at  Ancenis,  had  sickened  for  the  small- 
pox while  hiding  in  the  trunk  of  a  hollow  tree  : 

"  At  the  end  of  three  months  she  was  dis- 
covered, conveyed  to  Nantes,  and  condemned 
to  death.  She  had  resigned  herself  to  her  fate, 
when  she  read  on  a  slip  of  paper,  handed  to 
her  through  the  grate  of  her  dungeon,  these 
words  :  *  Say  you  are  with  child/  She  made 
this  declaration,  and  her  execution  was  sus- 
pended. Her  husband  having  been  dead  a  long 
time,  she  was  obliged  to  say  the  child  belonged 
to  a  republican  soldier." 

The  lie  was  eventually  exposed  ;  but  it  tided 
her  over  the  time  of  peril,  and  she  obtained  her 
reprieve.  Few  others  were  as  fortunate,  though 
Mme  de  Larochejaquelein's  maid  Agatha  escaped 
by  finding  favour  in  the  eyes  of  the  republican 
General  Lamberty.  Her  indignant  resistance 
of  his  advances,  even  when  the  acceptance  of 
them  seemed  to  be  the  price  of  her  salvation, 
so  impressed  him  that  he  removed  her  from 
the  boat  on  which  she  had  been  placed,  to  be 
drowned,  and  found  her  a  hiding-place.  And 
then  came  Thermidor,  and  Mme  de  Laroche- 
jaquelein's opportunity  to  obtain  a  passport 
and  get  away.  She  mentions  with  pride  the 


210  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

fact  that  republican  officers,  who  were  address- 
ing each  other  as  "  thee  "  and  "  thou,"  spoke 
to  her  deferentially  in  the  third  person,  the 
style  which  domestic  servants  and  small  trades- 
people adopt  in  conversation  with  their 
employers  and  social  superiors.  She  adds  : 

"  The  Vendean  ladies,  and  I  in  particular, 
had  such  a  warlike  reputation  that  they 
fancied  Mme  de  Lescure  must  be  a  great,  mas- 
culine woman,  wielding  her  sabre,  and  fearing 
nothing.  I  was  obliged  to  disclaim  all  the 
high  feats  attributed  to  me,  and  frankly  tell 
how  the  least  danger  frightened  me." 

Thus  she  got  to  Bordeaux,  and  thence  to 
Spain,  subsequently  returning  to  France  to 
engage  in  further  intrigues  which  there  is  no 
need  to  review.  Decidedly  she  was  not  a  great 
woman,  though  her  experiences  were  painful 
and  interesting.  No  one  can  deny  that  her 
ideas  were  firmly  fixed  ;  but  no  one  can  contend 
that  her  ideals  were  high.  She  fought  (or, 
at  least,  embroidered  banners  and  stitched 
cockades)  for  a  faction  at  the  very  time  when 
the  conception  of  the  fatherland  as  something 
greater  and  worthier  than  any  faction  was 
obtaining  a  new  grip  on  the  minds  of  her 
countrymen  ;  and  she  flattered  herself  that  her 
sedition  was  noble  and  religious. 

So  we  leave  her  ;  but  about  La  Vendee,  and 
the  women  of  La  Vendee,  there  is  still  some- 
thing more  to  be  said. 


CHAPTER  XX 

The  Duchesse  de  Berry — Her  attempt  to  raise  La  Vendee  for  the 
Comte  de  Chambord — Failure  of  her  friends  to  dissuade  her — 
The  rising — Defeat — Mme  de  Berry  seeks  a  hiding-place  at 
Nantes. 

OUR  next  Vendean  name  is  that  of  Marie- 
Caroline,  Duchesse  de  Berry.  In  her  story, 
too,  the  romance  of  war  was  supplemented  by 
romance  of  a  tenderer  kind ;  and  we  shall 
not  find  the  war  so  bloody  that  it  need 
distract  our  attention  from  the  lighter  and 
brighter  aspects  of  that '  romance.  Mme  de 
Berry  was  of  the  generation  of  the  Romantics : 
the  contemporary  of  George  Sand,  Alfred  de 
Musset,  Victor  Hugo,  Sainte-Beuve,  Alfred  de 
Vigny,  and  other  interesting  men  and  women 
of  letters  who,  in  order  that  they  might  write 
romantic  books,  laid  themselves  out  to  live 
romantic  lives.  She  shared  their  temperament, 
if  not  their  talents ;  and  she  may  be  said 
to  have  represented  the  Romantic  Movement 
in  royal  circles,  and  in  the  sphere  of  civil 
strife.  She  was  not  bloodthirsty,  like  the  Ven- 
deans  of  the  revolutionary  epoch ;  and  her 
enemies  were  not  ferocious,  like  the  republicans 
of  that  date  :  romanesque  is  the  epithet  to 


212  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

which  she  is  best  entitled.  Her  attempted 
revolution  can  be  best  described  as  an  escapade  : 
a  revolution  which  was  to  have  been  made  in 
rose-water,  and  was  delicately  dealt  with  by 
antagonists  who  wore  kid  gloves. 

Born  in  1798,  Mme  de  Berry  was  the  daughter 
of  Bomba,  King  of  Naples,  and  the  sister  of 
Queen  Cristina,  consort  of  Ferdinand  VII  of 
Spain.  She  and  her  sister  had  many  traits  in 
common  :  an  equal  energy  ;  an  equal  passion 
for  political  intrigue,  based  on  the  unreasoned 
assumption  that  it  was  really  worth  men's  while 
to  fight,  and  suffer,  and  die  for  the  dynastic 
causes  which  they  represented ;  an  equal 
susceptibility,  in  the  third  place,  to  the  passion 
of  love  inspired  by  men  of  inferior  station  ;  an 
equal  readiness,  in  conclusion,  to  settle  down, 
after  the  period  of  sturm  und  drang  had  passed, 
to  the  domestic  duties  of  the  mothers  of  large 
fainilies.  Just  as  Cristina,  after  Ferdinand  had 
died,  lost  no  time  in  proposing  marriage  to 
Private  Mufioz  of  the  Guards,  whom  she 
promoted  to  the  rank  of  Grandee  of  Spain,  so 
the  Duchesse  de  Berry — but  we  shall  see. 

The  Due  de  Berry,  it  will  be  remembered,  was 
the  heir  of  Charles  X,  and  was  assassinated, 
the  inheritance  thus  passing  to  his  infant  son, 
the  Comte  de  Chambord.  In  1830,  however, 
came  that  "  July  Revolution"  which  drove 
Charles  X  into  exile.  He  fled  to  England,  and 
the  Duchesse  de  Berry  fled  with  him,  and  made 
her  headquarters  at  his  home,  first  at  Lulworth, 


MME  DE  BERRY  213 

in  Dorsetshire,  and  afterwards  at  Holyrood 
Palace,  in  Edinburgh.  It  was  a  dull  life  for 
her,  for  Charles  X  was  a  dull  man  to  live  with, 
a  man  who  divided  his  time  between  long  prayers 
and  long  games  of  whist.  He  was  not  welcomed 
and  feasted  at  Holyrood,  but  simply  allowed 
to  live  there,  seeking  sanctuary  there  from 
his  creditors — army  contractors  who  desired, 
but  were  unable,  to  obtain,  some  payment,  on 
account  of  expenses  incurred  by  them,  long 
before,  in  equipping  the  army  of  Conde. 

At  first  Mme  de  Berry  was  able  to  relieve  her 
tedium  by  exploring  England  and  visiting  the 
country  seats  of  the  aristocracy.  She  was 
present  at  the  opening  of  the  railway  between 
Manchester  and  Liverpool ;  she  stayed  with 
the  Duke  of  Devonshire  at  Chatsworth,  and 
with  Lord  Scarsdale  at  Kedlestone.  We  hear 
of  her  at  Malvern,  Birmingham,  Cheltenham, 
Gloucester,  Clifton,  Bristol,  and  Bath.  "  She 
made/'  writes  Mme  de  Boigne  in  the  last  instal- 
ment ot  her  Memoirs,  "  quite  a  long  stay  at 
Bath.  The  news  reached  Paris  that,  at  Bath, 
she  had  given  birth  to  a  daughter.  The  sequel 
renders  all  stories  of  that  kind  quite  probable ; 
but,  at  the  moment,  I  believed  the  rumour  to  be 
the  calumnious  invention  of  her  enemies,  and 
was  most  indignant  at  it." 

The  "  sequel,"  however,  was  not  to  be  im- 
mediate, and  will  have  no  place  in  these  pages. 
Here  we  have  only  to  note  that  Mme  de  Berry 
was  bored,  and,  being  bored,  decided  to  go  to 


214  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

Italy,  "  where/'  according  to  Mme  de  Boigne, 
"  nobody  in  the  least  wanted  to  see  her." 
Whether  her  plans  for  the  enterprise  which  was 
to  relieve  her  boredom  were  formed  before  she 
left  England  or  afterwards,  it  is  difficult  to 
say, — it  was  not,  at  all  events,  until  after  her 
arrival  in  Italy  that  they  matured  and  took 
shape.  She  then  decided  to  hire  a  boat,  land 
on  the  French  coast,  issue  a  manifesto,  and 
appeal  to  her  friends  to  help  her.  So,  having 
provided  herself  with  £6,000  for  preliminary 
expenses,  she  set  out  on  the  Carlo  Alberto,  and 
succeeded  in  disembarking  on  a  beach  near 
Marseilles. 

The  opinion  of  her  friends  was  sharply  divided 
as  to  the  wisdom  of  her  proceedings.  Hotheads 
like  Charette,  the  Vendean  guerilla  chieftain, 
were  urging  her  on  ;  more  cautious  supporters, 
like  Chateaubriand,  and  the  eloquent  royalist 
advocate,  Berryer,  were  trying  to  hold  her 
back.  Charette,  in  fact,  wrote  to  her  to  say 
that  he  had  armed  and  organised  La  Vendee, 
and  concluded  with  the  appeal :  "  Every  day 
that  you  remain  absent  from  the  country  is  a 
day  stolen  from  your  son's  inheritance/'  Cha- 
teaubriand, on  the  other  hand,  refused  the 
post  which  she  offered  him  in  the  Provisional 
Government  which  she  proposed  to  nominate. 
"  Minister  Plenipotentiary  by  night,"  he  wrote, 
"  charge  d'affaires  receiving  his  credentials  in 
the  dark — those  are  commissions  for  which  I 
am  not  sensible  of  any  aptitude.  Concealed 


MME  DE  BERRY  215 

devotion  makes  no  appeal  to  me.  I  must  show 
my  loyalty  openly  or  not  at  all." 

That  was  his  polite  way  of  expressing  him- 
self :  in  conversation  with  Mme  de  Boigne,  he 
expressed  himself  less  politely,  speaking  of 
Mme  de  Berry  as  "  that  Italian  dancer  on  the 
tight-rope."  And  Mme  de  Berry,  in  the  mean- 
time, was  beginning  to  fail,  without  even 
having  enjoyed  a  first  encouraging  glimmer 
of  success.  The  revolution  was  to  have  begun 
at  Marseilles  ;  but  it  was  found  impossible  even 
to  bring  about  a  riot  there.  The  signal  was 
to  have  been  given  by  the  ringing  of  the  tocsin 
at  the  Church  of  Saint-Martin  ;  but  the  sexton 
who  had  the  key  of  the  belfry  could  not  be 
found  when  he  was  wanted.  The  rioters  dis- 
persed quietly,  supposing  that  they  had  mis- 
taken the  day  for  the  revolution.  The  few  of 
them  who  still  hung  about  were  arrested,  and 
the  Duchesse  de  Berry,  who  was  hiding  in  the 
vicinity,  received  the  laconic  note :  "  The 
movement  has  failed ;  you  had  better  get  out 
of  the  country  at  once." 

The  sea  was  so  rough  that  she  could  not  do 
so  ;  and  the  custom-house  officers  were  search- 
ing the  coast  for  her.  Moreover,  she  remembered 
a  dream  which  she  had  had  before  her  departure 
—a  dream  in  which  her  dead  husband  had 
appeared  to  her,  and  spoken  these  significant 
words  :  "  I  quite  approve  of  your  plans  ;  but 
you  will  not  succeed  in  the  south — only  in  La 
Vendee."  That  was  a  plain  intimation  that 


216  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

she  had  better  get  to  La  Vendee  as  best  she 
could ;  so  she  smashed  open  the  door  of  a 
fisherman's  hut,  and  spent  the  night  in  it.  The 
next  day  she  threw  herself  on  the  hospitality 
of  a  republican,  who  was  too  chivalrous  to 
betray  her,  and  got  thence  to  the  chateau  of 
M.  de  Bonrecueil.  A  post-chaise  was  there 
found  for  her,  and  she  drove  across  France, 
like  any  ordinary  traveller,  unsuspected  by 
the  gendarmes — representing  that  one  of  her 
retainers  was  her  husband  and  another  her 
footman.  A  hiding-place  was  found  for  her  : 
she  dressed  herself  as  a  peasant  girl,  and  assumed 
the  name  of  Petit  Pierre. 

Once  more  her  serious  friends  urged  her  not 
to  be  so  foolish.  Berry er,  in  particular,  under- 
took a  romantic  journey  in  order  to  obtain  a 
secret  interview  with  her.  Guided  mysteri- 
ously to  her  hiding-place  by  a  little  child,  he 
not  only  admonished  her  himself,  but  handed 
her  a  letter  of  admonition  from  Chateaubriand. 
"The  true  friends  of  Your  Royal  Highness," 
Chateaubriand  wrote,  "  consider  that,  if  Your 
Royal  Highness  is  now  in  the  West  or  the  South 
(where  they  cannot  believe  her  to  be)  it  would 
be  well  for  her  to  withdraw  as  promptly  as 
possible,  after  first  exerting  all  her  authority 
for  the  pacification  of  the  departments,  and 
leave  France  the  pleasing  recollection  of  her 
courage,  her  beneficence,  and  her  virtue/' 
Some  of  the  local  leaders  spoke  in  the  same 
sense,  pointing  out  that  their  organisation  was 


MME   DE  BERRY  217 

incomplete,  their  supply  of  munitions  inade- 
quate, and  the  failure  of  their  projected  enter- 
prise as  nearly  certain  as  anything  in  this  world 
can  be. 

But  Mme  de  Berry  was  not  to  be  put  off  like 
that.  She  had  been  promised  a  revolution, 
and  she  meant  to  have  one,  or  to  know  the 
reason  why  :  she  spoke  to  that  effect,  thumping 
the  table  vigorously.  The  most  effective  argu- 
ment which  Berryer  could  use  was  that  the 
Government  did  not  take  her  seriously,  and  was 
not  likely  to  do  so ;  that  there  was  no  chance 
whatever  of  her  perishing  gloriously  either  in 
action  or  on  the  scaffold ;  that  she  would 
certainly  be  taken  prisoner,  and  might  be  locked 
up  for  a  very  long  time — perhaps  for  the 
remainder  of  her  life.  That  prospect  frightened 
her,  and  she  promised  to  drop  her  schemes  ; 
but  she  had  hardly  given  her  promise  before 
she  exercised  the  privilege  of  her  sex,  and 
changed  her  mind,  owing  to  the  receipt  of  false 
news  contained  in  a  lying  letter,  which  doubtless 
emanated  from  one  of  the  hotheads  of  the  party. 

"  What's  this  ?  "  she  exclaimed,  when  she 
had  read  it.  "  The  heather  on  fire  in  the 
south  !  Then  I  shall  not  leave  France !  No, 
no  !  "  And  she  hastily  scrawled  and  despatched 
to  Charette  a  note  concluding  with  these  oracular 
words  :  "  Don't  hand  in  your  resignation,  my 
friend !  Petit  Pierre  has  no  intention  of  hand- 
ing in  hers."  And  Charette  obeyed  her  loyally, 
and  she  had  her  civil  war,  though  it  was  a 


218  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

badly  bungled  business ;  so  badly  bungled, 
and  so  quickly  over,  that  it  is  not  worth  while 
to  attempt  any  detailed  relation  of  the  fighting. 
Wherever  the  partisans  presented  themselves 
they  were  easily  scattered ;  and  the  only  feat 
of  arms  of  any  consequence  was  the  defence  of 
the  Chateau  de  Penissiere  by  45  Vendeans 
against  about  900  regulars.  The  chateau  being 
burnt  over  their  heads,  they  charged  and  cut 
their  way  out,  cheering  for  Henri  V — Mme  de 
Berry  having  made  her  escape  just  before  the 
attack  began. 

That  was  all,  except  for  brigandage  and 
reprisals.  Mme  de  Berry's  war  was  over  almost 
as  soon  as  it  had  begun ;  and  she  now  found 
herself  abandoned  in  an  out-of-the-way  farm- 
house, a  leader  without  followers,  and  with  no 
companion  except  the  daughter  of  one  of  her 
supporters,  Mile  Eulalie  de  Kersabiec,  who 
had  gone  through  the  campaign  with  her— 
such  a  poor  campaign  as  it  had  been — under 
the  name  of  Petit  Paul.  She  and  her  friend 
conferred  together,  and  decided  that  they  would 
go  to  Nantes,  and  that  Madame  de  Berry  should 
hide  there,  and  wait  upon  events. 

It  is  not  a  very  exciting  story,  so  far ;  but 
it  has  a  sequel.  In  fact,  it  has  two  sequels, 
each  of  them  exciting  in  its  way. 


CHAPTER   XXI 

Mme  de  Berry  in  hiding — Her  betrayal  by  the  Jew  Deutz — Her 
discovery  in  a  secret  chamber  by  the  gendarmes — Her  arrest 
and  removal  to  prison — How  Deutz  received  the  reward  of  his 
treachery. 

IT  was  in  the  disguise  of  peasant  women  coming 
to  market  that  the  Duchesse  de  Berry  and 
her  friend  passed  the  gates  of  Nantes  ;  and,  as 
it  was  the  custom  of  peasant  women  in  those 
days  to  go  about  with  bare  feet,  Madame  soiled 
her  feet  in  the  filth  of  a  farm-yard  dunghill  in 
order  that  their  whiteness  might  not  arouse 
suspicion.  And  so  she  disappeared  from  view  ; 
and  for  five  months  all  France — and  indeed  all 
Europe,  with  the  exception  of  a  few  personal 
friends — wondered  what  had  become  of  her. 
Some  thought  that  she  was  dead ;  others  that 
she  was  still  dodging  the  gendarmerie  in  Ven- 
dean  farm-houses  ;  others,  again,  that  she  had 
escaped  from  the  country  and  was  travelling 
under  an  assumed  name.  The  truth  was  that 
she  was  living  at  Nantes,  in  a  garret  at  the  top 
of  the  house  belonging  to  the  loyal  Miles  de 
Guiny,  prepared,  whenever  the  alarm  might  be 
raised,  to  seek  the  greater  seclusion  of  a  secret 
chamber  behind  the  fire-place. 

219 


220  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

"  You  had  better  hang  Walter  Scott.  It  is 
he  who  is  really  to  blame  for  the  escapade," 
was  the  verdict  of  a  sage  cynic  on  the  pro- 
ceedings ;  and,  in  truth,  they  were  just  such 
proceedings  as  the  exciting  romances  of  a 
popular  novelist  might  have  suggested.  Yet 
there  was,  at  the  same  time,  a  certain  method 
in  the  madness.  It  was  not  merely  that 
Madame  thought  it  incumbent  on  her  to  share 
the  risks  of  the- insurrectionists  whom  Louis 
Philippe's  soldiers  were  busily  hunting  down  ; 
it  was  also  not  unreasonable  for  her  to  hope,  like 
Mr.  Micawber,  that,  if  she  waited  long  enough, 
1 '  something  "  would,  in  point  of  fact,  "turn 
up." 

Neither  Louis  Philippe  nor  his  ministers  en- 
j  oyed  great  personal  popularity  ;  and  there  was 
a  likelihood  of  complications  resulting  from 
their  foreign  policy.  The  question  of  Belgian 
independence,  in  particular — for  Belgium  had 
lately  cut  itself  away  from  the  United  Nether- 
lands— seemed  likely  to  embroil  France  with 
the  northern  Powers.  Should  it  do  so,  France 
might  be  invaded  :  should  there  be  such  an 
invasion,  and  should  Madame  then  show  herself 
at  the  head  of  a  Vendean  host,  there  was  no 
saying  what  might  not  happen.  Those  were 
the  reflections  of  which  she  chewed  the  cud  in 
her  garret,  during  those  five  months,  corre- 
sponding, the  while,  secretly  and,  as  a  rule,  in 
cipher,  with  her  supporters,  and  even  with  the 
King  of  Holland,  to  whom  she  looked  for  help. 


MME  DE  BERRY  221 

Meanwhile  the  Orleanist  Government  continued 
its  search,  and  the  nets  closed. 

Not  that  the  Orleanists  had  any  particular 
desire  to  capture  her,  or  any  intention  of  treat- 
ing her  with  severity,  if  they  caught  her.  She 
was  the  Queen's  niece  ;  and,  if  the  royal  family 
thirsted  for  the  blood  of  her  adherents,  it 
certainly  did  not  thirst  for  hers.  If  only  she 
would  have  taken  to  flight,  honour  would  have 
been  declared  to  be  satisfied ;  and  she  would 
have  been  laughed  at,  and  pardoned.  Still, 
as  she  would  not  take  to  flight,  and  as  her 
continued  presence  in  the  country  entailed 
possibilities  of  further  mischief,  there  was 
nothing  for  it  but  to  rout  her  out  of  her  retreat. 
The  task  of  finding  her  devolved  upon  Thiers  : 
a  most  devoted  adherent  of  the  House  of 
Orleans,  and  a  Minister  of  the  Interior  to  whom 
the  duties  of  police  espionage  attaching  to  the 
office  were  not  repugnant.  The  narrative  of 
his  method  of  discharging  them  reads  like  an 
instalment  from  a  sensational  story  of  mystery 
and  crime. 

He  strongly  suspected,  if  he  did  not  actually 
know,  that  Mme  de  Berry  was  in  Nantes ;  but 
her  secret  was  well  kept,  and  private  houses, 
and  even  convents,  were  searched  for  her  in 
vain.  But  then,  one  day,  Thiers  received  'an 
anonymous  letter,  which  promised  him  "  import- 
ant revelations  on  an  affair  of  State,"  if  he  could 
meet  his  correspondent  alone,  at  midnight,  in 
a  solitary  spot  near  the  Champs  £lysees.  This 


222  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

looked  like  a  plot  to  murder  or  kidnap  him  ; 
and  he  was  a  cautious  man.  He  kept  the 
appointment ;  but  he  took  several  detectives 
with  him,  with  the  result  that  he  saw  no  one. 
On  the  following  morning,  however,  he  received 
a  second  anonymous  letter,  running  thus  : 

"  I  asked  you  to  come  alone;  but  you  came 
with  an  escort  :  that  is  why  I  did  not  speak  to 
you.  If  you  really  wish  for  the  information 
which  I  am  able  to  give  you,  come  again  to 
the  same  place  to-night ;  but  you  must  come 
unattended. " 

Even  so,  Thiers  was  not  fully  reassured ;  but 
he,  nevertheless,  did  as  he  was  bidden,  taking 
his  courage  in  both  hands,  and  a  brace  of  pistols 
in  his  pocket.     He  waited  a  few  minutes,  and 
then,  just  as  he  was  beginning  to  suspect  a 
hoax,  a  man  emerged  from  the  darkness,  saying 
that   he   was   the   author    of   the   anonymous 
communication,  and  that  his  name  was  Deutz. 
The  following  dialogue  ensued  : 
*  '  What  do  you  want  with  me  ?  " 
"  I    have   reason   to   believe   that   you    are 
looking  for  the  Duchesse  de  Berry.'* 
"  Supposing  that  I  am— 
"  I  can  put  you  in  the  way  of  finding  her." 
"  What  is  your  price  ?  " 
"  Five  hundred  thousand  francs." 
"  Very  well.     If  you  find  her  for  me,  you 
shall  have  the  money ;    but  you  will  be  kept 
under  surveillance,  and,  if  you  fail  to  find  her, 


MME   DE  BERRY  223 

you  will  be  arrested  as  an  agent  of  the   con- 
spiracy." 
"  Agreed." 

This  man  Deutz  was  a  German  Jew,  the  son 
of  a  Rabbi,  but  a  convert — at  all  events,  an 
alleged  convert — to  Christianity.  He  had  been 
in  relations  with  Mme  de  Berry,  and  had  won 
the  partial  confidence  of  the  Legitimists  by  the 
ardour  of  his  orthodox  professions.  If  he  did 
not  know  where  Madame  was  hiding  at  the 
moment,  at  least  he  knew  people  whom  he 
could  induce  to  tell  him  :  he  proposed  to  get 
this  information,  and  to  sell  it  for  pieces  of 
silver.  Thiers  sent  him  to  Nantes,  but  was 
careful  to  send  police  officers  with  him,  to  make 
sure  that  he  ran  straight. 

He  did  not  obtain  his  information  quite  so 
easily  as  he  expected,  having  to  deal  with  people 
to  whom  all  Jews,  whether  converted  or  other- 
wise, were  objects  of  suspicion.  At  last,  how- 
ever, Madame  herself  heard  that  he  was  look- 
ing for  her,  and  sent  for  him.  Though  her 
friends  suspected  him,  she  did  not  :  she  even 
entrusted  him  with  a  letter  to  deliver,  and  gave 
him  twenty-five  louis  for  his  services  in  deliver- 
ing it.  He  took  her  money,  and  then  went  out 
and  betrayed  her  to  the  police,  who  had  already 
surrounded  the  house,  and  were  watching  all 
the  exits  :  he  gave  them  their  signal,  and  they 
acted. 

It    was    by    the    merest    accident    that    his 


224  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

treachery  was  not  detected  in  time.  At  the 
very  moment  when  he  was  assuring  Mme  de 
Berry  of  his  unflinching  devotion  to  her  in- 
terests, a  letter,  written  in  sympathetic  ink, 
was  handed  to  her.  One  of  her  companions, 
M.  de  Mesnard,  took  the  necessary  steps  for 
making  it  legible,  and  found  that  it  contained 
a  warning  that  she  was  "  about  to  be  betrayed 
by  a  person  in  whom  she  reposed  perfect 
confidence."  "  You  hear  that,  Deutz  ?  Per- 
haps it  is  you,"  she  said  with  a  smile.  "  Very 
possibly,"  he  replied,  turning  the  matter  off 
with  a  laugh  ;  and  very  few  minutes  had  passed 
before  she  knew  his  treachery.  For  another 
of  her  companions,  M.  Guibourg,  looked  out  of 
window,  and  saw  the  police  closing  in  on  the 
house,  and  called  out  :  "  Quick,  madame.  We 
are  betrayed ;  we  must  make  haste  and  hide." 
Whereupon,  they  all  ran  upstairs  to  the  garret, 
and  crawled  into  the  secret  chamber,  while  the 
gendarmes  were  searching  the  lower  rooms. 

The  gendarmes  found  the  dinner -table  laid 
for  five ;  but  the  only  person  who  presented 
herself  to  them  was  the  elder  Mile  du  Guiny, 
who  explained  that  she  had  been  expecting 
guests,  but  rather  imagined  that  the  ferocious 
aspect  of  the  gendarmes  had  frightened  them 
away.  The  gendarmes  did  not  believe  that 
story  :  they  garrisoned  every  room,  and  sent 
for  architects  and  masons  to  advise  and  help 
them  in  their  quest,  which  was  destined  to  be 
a  long  one.  The  architects  demonstrated  theo- 


MME  DE  BERRY  225 

retically  that  the  structure  of  the  house  was 
such  that  it  could  not  possibly  contain  a  secret 
chamber.  The  masons  banged  at  all  the  walls 
with  heavy  hammers,  but  failed  to  detect  any 
hollow  ring  indicating  such  a  hiding-place. 
Night  overtook  them  before  they  had  finished 
their  task.  They  knocked  off  work  and  went 
home ;  but  the  gendarmes  were  ordered  to 
remain  at  their  posts  until  the  morning.  They 
tempted  Mile  du  Guiny's  cook  with  offers  of 
money,  spreading  innumerable  pieces  of  gold 
before  her  eyes  on  the  kitchen-table ;  but  that 
loyal  woman  resisted  the  temptation. 

Meanwhile,  as  we  know,  Mme  de  Berry  and 
her  friends  were  in  the  secret  chamber  behind 
the  fire-place.  It  was  so  small  a  secret  chamber 
that  the  tallest  of  them  could  not  even  stand 
upright  in  it,  but  had  to  crouch  as  if  in  a  cage  ; 
and  they  had  nothing  to  eat  except  a  few  lumps 
of  sugar  which  M.  de  Mesnard  had  hurriedly 
stuffed  into  his  pocket.  For  sixteen  hours  they 
stood  thus,  huddled  together,  munching  a  lump 
of  sugar  from  time  to  time ;  and  they  would 
have  stood  siege  even  longer,  if  an  accident  had 
not  brought  about  their  discovery. 

It  was  a  chilly  November  night,  and  the 
gendarmes  on  guard  in  the  garret  began  to 
feel  cold,  and  decided  to  light  the  fire.  There 
was  no  wood  or  coal  in  the  room,  but  there 
was  an  enormous  bundle  of  the  various  fashion 
papers  to  which  Mme  de  Berry  subscribed ; 
so  they  made  a  fire  of  them,  and  the  flames 
15 


226  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

were  soon  roaring  up  the  chimney.  Un- 
happily, however,  it  was  by  way  of  the 
chimney  that  the  secret  chamber  was  provided 
with  air,  and  it  was  now,  of  course,  being  filled 
with  smoke  and  flames  instead  of  air.  The 
prisoners  were  in  imminent  danger  of  being 
suffocated  if  not  of  being  burnt.  They  must 
either  surrender,  or  perish  like  rats  in  a  hole; 
and — horror  of  horrors ! — when  they  tried  to 
press  the  spring  which  should  have  released 
them,  they  found  it  too  hot  to  be  pressed. 
There  was  nothing  for  it,  after  all,  but  to 
appeal  to  the  gendarmes  for  help,  for  already 
Madame1  s  skirts  were  catching  fire  ;  so  they 
kicked  violently  at  the  panelling  to  attract 
attention. 

"  What's  that  noise  ?  Who  is  there  ?  "  the 
startled  gendarmes  called  to  them. 

"  It  is  us.  We  surrender.  Quick,  and  help 
us  to  get  out ! "  came  the  reply ;  and  the 
gendarmes  made  haste  to  extinguish  the  fire 
and  pull  down  the  partition.  It  was  quickly 
done ;  and  then  out  stepped  a  woman,  whose 
arm  was  scarred  with  burns,  and  whose  dress 
was  covered  with  ashes. 

"  What !  Madame  la  Duchesse!  It  is 
you  ?  " 

"Yes,  it  is  I.  You  are  Frenchmen  and 
soldiers.  I  throw  myself  on  the  protection  of 
your  honour." 

So  they  detained  her,  doing  her  no  harm, 
until  the  general  came.  She  asked  if  she  might 


MME   DE  BERRY  227 

spend  the  rest  of  the  night  where  she  was,  but 
was  told  that  an  apartment  had  been  prepared 
for  her  at  the  castle,  and  that  she  must  be 
removed  there  at  once. 

"  But  I  shall  be  insulted  in  the  streets  !  " 

"  I  pledge  myself  that  you  shall  not  be." 

"And,  general,  we've  had  nothing  to  eat 
for  four-and-twenty  hours.  Would  you  mind 
giving  the  jailer  orders  to  have  some  hot  soup 
ready  for  us." 

'  With  pleasure,  madame.     You  shall  have 
your  soup,  and  a  good  bottle  of  wine  with  it." 

"  I  thank  you." 

That  was  the  serio-comic  end  of  the  first  sequel 
of  the  Duchesse  de  Berry's  civil  war.  Its  second 
is  perhaps  too  romantic  to  be  related  in  this 
work  ;  but  we  must  give  the  picture  of  the 
treacherous  Deutz  receiving  the  reward  of  virtue. 

There  is  no  doubt  that  he  regarded — or  at 
least  represented — his  remuneration  in  that 
pleasing  light ;  for  he  wrote  a  vindication  of 
his  conduct.  The  arrest  of  the  Duchesse  de 
Berry,  so  brought  about  by  him,  had,  he  said, 
saved  France  from  the  horrors  of  a  civil  war 
and  a  foreign  invasion.  Madame  had  promised, 
if  she  succeeded  in  her  insurrection,  to  ennoble 
him  ;  but  he  had  sacrificed  his  personal  interest 
to  his  sense  of  his  duties  as  a  citizen.  In  order 
to  do  so  he  had  even  braved  the  peril  of  assas- 
sination by  the  Legitimists : 

"France  was  my  passion;  the  rule  of  Louis 


228  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

Philippe  was  my  Utopia.  I  made  up  my 
mind  to  perish,  a  martyr  for  my  cause.  '  All 
for  France' — that  was  my  motto.  I  have 
done  my  duty,  and  conscience  is  at  ease.  Long 
live  France  !  Long  live  Louis  Philippe  !  " 

But  he  could  not  persuade  the  Orleanists  to 
take  that  view  of  the  matter.  For  them  he 
had  been,  and  still  was,  the  "  dirty  Jew"  whom 
they  had  hired  to  do  dirty  work  with  which 
they  would  not  have  soiled  their  own  fingers. 
They  made  that  clear  to  him,  even  in  the  act 
of  paying  him,  as  we  know  from  Dumas  fits, 
who  had  the  story  from  Henri  Didier,  the  son 
of  the  appointed  paymaster.  The  boy  was  told 
by  his  father  to  hide  behind  a  curtain  at  the 
time  when  the  money  was  to  be  handed  over, 
in  order  that  he  might  learn  betimes  "  what  a 
traitor  was,  and  how  one  recompensed  a  traitor 
for  his  ser vices. "  This,  according  to  Dumas, 
is  what  Henri  Didier  saw : 

"  Deutz  was  shown  in.  M.  Didier  was  stand- 
ing before  his  desk,  on  which  lay  the  500,000 
francs,  in  two  heaps  of  250,000  francs  each. 
As  Deutz  approached  him,  M.  Didier  signalled 
to  him  to  stop  ;  then,  picking  up  the  tongs,  he 
lifted  the  two  packets  of  banknotes  in  them, 
handed  them  to  Deutz,  and  pointed  to  the 
door,  without  uttering  a  single  word." 


CHAPTER   XXII 

The  Empress  Eug6nie — Did  she  "  make  "  the  Franco-German  War  ? 
— The  news  of  Sedan  in  Paris — Outbreak  of  the  Revolution — 
Flight  of  the  Empress  from  the  Tuileries — Her  appeal  to  Dr. 
Evans — The  drive  to  Deauville — The  crossing  of  the  Channel 
in  Sir  John  Burgoyne's  yacht. 

THE  Empress  Eugenie  is  hardly  to  be  spoken 
of  as  a  woman  warrior  ;  but  she  nevertheless 
has  her  place  in  this  gallery  on  account  of  the 
common  allegation  that  she  "  made  "  the  war 
which  brought  the  Second  Empire  to  grief. 

It  is  a  very  improbable  charge,  and  one  which 
certainly  cannot  be  proved.  We  know  that 
the  Empress  opposed  the  war  with  Austria  for 
the  liberation  and  unification  of  Italy,  on  the 
ground  that  it  would  be  detrimental  to  the 
interests  of  the  Pope  ;  and  we  also  know  that, 
in  spite  of  her  opposition,  that  war  took  place. 
It  seems  over-bold  to  conclude  that,  because 
she  was  in  favour  of  the  Mexican  expedition 
and  the  war  with  Prussia,  therefore  she  was 
responsible  for  those  unfortunate  adventures. 
She  certainly  was  not  strong  enough  to  in- 
duce Napoleon  III  to  hang  on  in  Mexico 
after  the  President  of  the  United  States  had 
called  his  attention  to  the  Monro  doctrine  ;  and 
that,  though  her  ambitions  were  supported  by 


230  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

the  tears  and  entreaties  of  the  Empress  Char- 
lotte, who  knelt  at  the  Emperor's  feet,  imploring 
him  not  to  desert  her  husband,  the  misguided 
Maximilian. 

That  the  Empress  desired  the  war  with 
Prussia  is,  indeed,  hardly  in  dispute  ;  but  it  is 
equally  certain  that  she  was  only  one  of  many, 
on  both  sides  of  the  frontier,  who  desired  it. 
Bismarck,  as  we  all  know,  desired  it  so  intensely 
that  he  tampered  with  the  text  of  a  despatch 
in  order  to  give  the  French  the  impression  that 
the  King  of  Prussia  had  insulted  their  Am- 
bassador, and  so  work  them  up  into  aggressive 
fury.  That  doctored  despatch  published,  it 
was  as  if  a  spark  had  been  dropped  on  tinder  ; 
and,  if  the  Empress  helped  to  fan  the  resulting 
flame,  the  flame,  in  fact,  needed  very  little 
fanning.  The  Paris  mob  was  already  shouting 
"  A  Berlin !  "  two  days  before  the  meeting 
of  the  Council  at  which  the  Empress  is  declared 
to  have  pronounced,  in  fiery  language,  that  war 
was  necessary  to  save  the  honour  of  France ;  and 
it  certainly  was  not  the  Empress  who  composed 
the  Due  de  Grammont's  provocative  despatches 
to  Benedetti,  for  Grammont  assumed  full  respon- 
sibility for  the  calamitous  decision  : 

"  I  determined  upon  the  war,"  he  wrote, 
"  with  complete  confidence  in  victory.  I  be- 
lieved in  the  greatness  of  my  country,  in  her 
power,  in  her  military  valour,  as  firmly  as  I 
believe  in  my  religion." 


THE  EMPRESS  EUGENIE          231 

The  Empress,  no  doubt,  also  believed  in 
these  things,  and  believed  in  the  famous  assur- 
ance of  a  Marshal  of  France  that  everything 
was  ready  down  to  the  last  button  on  the  last 
soldier's  gaiter,  and  did  not  believe — if  she  had 
ever  heard  of  them — in  the  grave  warnings 
addressed  to  the  Emperor  by  Colonel  Stoffel,  the 
French  military  attache  at  Berlin.  "  She  knew/' 
writes  General  du  Barrail,  who  desires  to  fix 
responsibility  on  her,  "  that,  sooner  or  later, 
war  would  break  out,  and,  like  a  woman,— 
and  a  passionate  women — she  thought  it  best 
to  get  it  over  immediately.  She  neither  saw 
nor  heard  any  advisers  save  those  who  assured 
her  that  success  was  certain  "  :  an  indication, 
of  course,  not  that  she  was  exploiting  her 
advisers,  but  that  her  advisers  were  exploiting 
her. 

It  has  been  said  that  she  was  responsible 
for  the  decision  to  withhold  from  the  Emperor's 
knowledge  that  verdict  of  his  physician  con- 
cerning the  state  of  his  health  which  might  have 
caused  him  to  hesitate  to  take  the  field ;  but 
that  responsibility  was  really  the  physicians' 
rather  than  hers.  There  was  a  consultation, 
and  the  doctors  disagreed :  Dr.  Ricord,  who 
took  the  pessimistic  view,  would  not  sepa- 
rate himself  *  from  his  colleagues.  Prince 
Napoleon  once,  at  a  dinner-party,  put  all  the 
blame  for  the  suppression  of  the  truth  and  its 
consequences  on  him.  "  That  man,"  he  said, 
"  held  the  destinies  of  France  in  his  hands. 


232  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

If  he  had  spoken,  we  should  not  have  had  the 
awful  war  of  1870. "  But  that  is  not  so  certain. 
There  were  many  who  held  that  war  was 
necessary  to  the  dynasty,  but  that  the  Emperor 
— a  brave  man,  but  an  incapable  strategist- 
was  by  no  means  necessary  to  the  war. 

So  the  war  was  declared,  and  the  Emperor 
rode  out  to  battle,  while  the  Empress  remained 
in  Paris  to  act  as  Regent.  There  was  little  for 
her  to  do  except  to  issue  proclamations,  and 
combat  a  proposal,  supported  by  Prince  Napo- 
leon, that  the  Emperor  should,  after  the  first 
disasters,  be  recalled  to  Paris.  "  His  return/' 
she  replied,  "  would  look  like  flight.  The  one 
place  for  the  Emperor  is  with  the  army/'  It 
was  the  one  place  in  which  he  could  do  no  good, 
and  might  do  infinite  harm  ;  and  Bonapartist 
writers  have  maintained  that  the  noble  lan- 
guage was  really  the  cloak  of  a  palace 
intrigue : 

"  She  had,"  writes  M.  de  la  Gorce,  "  three 
great  grievances  against  the  Emperor — he  had 
grown  old  ;  he  had  become  a  Liberal ;  he  had 
been  beaten.  Weakened  at  home  by  his  con- 
cessions, disarmed  by  defeat,  exhausted  by  ill- 
ness, it  remained  for  him  only  to  disappear.  But 
she  was  still  young,  and  was  ambitious,  and 
a  mother.  And  she  was  Regent.  .  .  .  Hence 
the  secret  design  of  providing  for  France, 
for  the  Empire,  for  the  Prince  Imperial,  even 
without  the  Emperor,  who  would  be,  more  or 


THE  EMPRESS  EUGENIE          233 

less,   a  victim  sacrificed  to  fate  by  his  own 
faults." 

That  statement,  however,  can  neither  be 
proved  nor  disproved ;  and  events  were  im- 
minent which  were  to  make  palace  plots, 
whether  real  or  imaginary,  of  no  importance 
whatsoever.  Sedan  sealed  the  fate  of  the 
dynasty,  though  it  did  not  bring  the  end  of 
the  war.  "Abdicate,  and  summon  M.  Thiers," 
was  the  advice  given  by  Emile  de  Girardin, 
the  journalist,  when  the  news  of  the  disaster 
arrived.  "  I  think,  General/'  said  M.  de  Lesseps 
to  a  friend,  "  that  you  have  eaten  your  last 
dinner  at  the  Tuileries."  The  servants  at  the 
Tuileries,  except  those  in  immediate  attendance 
on  the  Empress,  began  to  desert  the  sinking  ship, 
adjudging  themselves  small  portable  ornaments 
as  souvenirs  of  their  services.  The  Empress 
herself  became  sufficiently  alarmed  to  tear  up 
private  papers,  unsuitable  for  the  inspection 
of  revolutionists,  and  pulp  them  in  a  hot  bath  ; 
though,  at  the  same  time,  she  sent  a  reassuring 
telegram  to  her  mother  : 

"Do  not  lose  courage,  dear  mother.  France 
is  still  able  to  defend  herself  if  she  wishes.  I 
shall  do  my  duty.  Your  unhappy  daughter, 

"  EUGENIE. "' 

But  then  followed  the  invasion  of  the  Chamber 
of  Deputies  by  rioters,  the  overthrow  of  the 
Ministry,  and  the  proclamation  of  the  Republic  ; 


234  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

and  then  the  mob  proceeded  towards  the 
Tuileries,  shouting  "  Down  with  the  Spaniard  !  " 
The  Empress  asked  General  Mellinet,  a  Crimean 
veteran,  whether  the  Palace  could  be  defended 
without  bloodshed.  He  feared  not.  "  Then 
I  am  resolved,"  said  the  Empress,  "  that  no 
drop  of  blood  shall  be  shed  for  me."  A  little 
later  the  Prefect  of  Police  ran  in,  exclaiming  : 

"  We  are  betrayed.  It  is  quite  impossible 
to  resist.  The  crowds  are  already  battering 
down  the  railings.  Her  Majesty  has  no  chance 
except  in  immediate  flight." 

With  her  at  the  time  were  the  Austrian  and 
Italian  Ambassadors — Prince  Metternich  and 
Signor  Nigra — Admiral  Jurien  de  la  Graviere, 
M.  Conti,  the  Chief  of  the  Emperor's  Cabinet, 
Lieutenant  Conneau,  and  Mme  Lebreton, 
General  Bourbaki's  sister,  her  reader  and  com- 
panion. It  was  the  Ambassadors  who  took 
the  lead  and  hurried  her  away.  She  dared  not 
take  her  own  carriage  on  account  of  the  livery 
and  the  crown  painted  on  the  door.  Metternich 
offered  his  carriage,  but  it  could  not  be  got  to 
the  door  because  of  the  density  and  fury  of 
the  mob.  Admiral  Jurien  de  la  Graviere  went 
to  the  gate  to  gain  time  by  parleying  with  the 
rioters :  the  others  meanwhile  followed  the 
corridor  leading  from  the  Tuileries  to  the 
Louvre.  The  communicating  door  was  locked  ; 
but,  by  a  happy  accident,  the  Emperor's 
Treasurer  appeared,  with  a  master-key  in  his 


THE  EMPRESS  EUGENIE         235 

pocket.  The  party  passed  through  the  gal- 
leries, and  found  their  way  out  on  to  the  square 
in  front  of  the  Church  of  Saint  -  Germain 
TAuxerrois. 

They  stood  there,  unnoticed — at  all  events, 
unrecognised. — watching  the  rabble  which 
streamed  by,  shouting  :  "A  bas  Badinguet!  A 
bas  1'Espagnole !  Vive  la  R6publique ! "  Met- 
ternich  went  to  look  for  a  cab,  and  luckily  found 
a  closed  one.  A  passing  boy  recognised  the 
Empress,  but  Nigra  found  a  means  of  closing 
his  mouth ;  while  Metternich  handed  the 
Empress  and  Mme  Lebreton  into  their  con- 
veyance, and  gave  the  driver  his  direction  : 
the  residence  of  M.  Besson,  Councillor  of  State, 
on  the  Boulevard  Haussmann.  But  M.  Besson 
was  not  at  home,  and  the  door  of  his  flat  was 
locked.  The  Empress  waited,  sitting  on  the 
staircase,  for  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  and  then 
lost  patience.  Another  cab  was  hailed,  and 
another  direction  given.  Mme  Lebreton  sug- 
gested that  they  should  drive  to  the  American 
Legation,  but  the  Empress  had  a  happier 
thought : 

"  No,  I  will  go  to  Dr.  Evans.  He  is  an 
American  also,  but  he  has  no  political  responsi- 
bilities, and  besides  is  an  old  friend.  I  am  sure 
he  will  not  hesitate  to  render  us  every  assistance 
we  may  require." 

It  was,  indeed,  an  inspiration.  Dr.  Evans 
was  the  fashionable  American  dentist  of  the 


236  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

day  :  one  of  the  two  dentists  (the  other  being 
Talma)  whom  the  world  remembers  for  other 
things  besides  their  skill  in  dental  surgery. 
He  was  also  a  gallant  man — the  sort  of  man  who 
might  be  trusted  to  accept  such  a  commission 
as  was  now  offered  to  him,  and  see  the  business 
through  without  weighing  the  risk.  So  when 
Dr.  Evans,  who  had  been  strolling  out  to 
inspect  the  Revolution,  returned  to  his  house 
at  the  corner  of  the  Avenue  happily  named 
de  rimperatrice,  a  servant  met  him  with  a 
message  : 

"  There  are  two  ladies  in  the  library  who  wish 
to  see  you.  They  have  not  given  their  names, 
and  decline  to  state  why  they  have  come  here  ; 
but  they  seem  to  be  very  anxious  to  see  you, 
and  have  been  waiting  for  you  more  than  an 
hour." 

Ladies  suffering  from  tooth-ache  are  often 
exceedingly  anxious  to  see  dentists,  even  after 
the  surgery  is  closed ;  but  they  do  not  usually 
decline  to  state  the  nature  of  their  business 
to  the  dentist's  attendants.  So  Dr.  Evans 
entered  wondering,  and  was  amazed  to  recog- 
nise the  Empress,  who,  at  once,  explained  why 
she  was  there  : 

"  You  know  what  has  taken  place  to-day — 
that  the  government  is  in  the  hands  of  the 
Revolutionists.  I  have  come  to  you  for  pro- 
tection and  assistance,  because  I  have  full 


THE  EMPRESS  EUGENIE          237 

confidence  in  your  devotion  to  my  family.  The 
service  I  now  ask  on  my  behalf  and  on  that  of 
this  lady — let  me  introduce  you  to  Mme  Lebre- 
ton — will  be  a  severe  test  of  your  friendship/' 

Never  before,  one  imagines,  in  the  history  of 
the  world,  was  such  an  appeal  addressed  by  an 
Empress  to  a  dental  surgeon ;  and  Dr.  Evans 
rose  to  the  occasion  with  chivalry,  and  faced  it 
with  resource.  Of  course  the  Empress  was 
welcome  to  his  help  and  hospitality.  It  was 
most  unfortunate  that  he  was  expecting  a  few 
friends  to  dinner — it  would  not  be  wise  to 
invite  suspicion  by  putting  the  party  off.  His 
friend,  Dr.  Crane,  however,  would  entertain  his 
guests  for  him,  and  get  rid  of  them  as  early  in 
the  evening  as  possible.  Meanwhile,  there  was 
no  danger  to  be  apprehended.  Her  Majesty 
had  not  been  traced  to  his  house,  and  it  was  the 
last  place  in  Paris  in  which  any  one  would  think 
of  looking  for  her — who  would  suspect  her  of 
suspending  her  flight  in  order  to  pay  a  visit 
to  the  dentist  ?  It  would  be  unwise  for  her  to 
drive,  as  she  proposed,  to  Poisy,  and  there 
pick  up  the  night  train  to  Havre;  she  would 
almost  certainly  be  recognised  by  some  fellow 
passenger.  In  the  early  morning,  she  would 
have  a  fair  chance  of  getting  off  unobserved; 
he  would  himself  drive  her  to  Deauville,  where 
Mrs.  Evans  was  staying :  there  she  would 
probably  be  able  to  hire  a  boat  to  take  her  to 
England. 


238  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

The  Empress  agreed,  and  produced  a  bundle 
of  passports  which  she  had  acquired  in  view  of 
emergencies.  One  of  them,  covering  the  case 
of  a  British  physician  and  a  patient,  was 
selected  as  the  most  appropriate.  Dr.  Crane 
would  impersonate  the  physician,  and  the 
Empress  the  invalid  ;  Dr.  Evans  would  pretend 
to  be  her  brother,  and  Mme  Lebreton  would 
travel  as  her  nurse.  So  it  was  arranged  ;  and, 
after  a  night's  rest,  the  start  was  made  at  five 
o'clock  in  the  morning,  the  Empress  wearing 
no  disguise  except  a  veil,  and  carrying  no 
luggage  except  a  small  reticule.  At  the  Porte 
Maillot  Dr.  Evans  leant  in  front  of  the  Empress 
in  order  to  answer  the  questions  of  the  officer 
on  guard.  His  statement  that  he  had  promised 
to  spend  the  day  with  friends  in  the  country 
was  accepted.  They  drove  through,  the  Em- 
press chattering  the  while,  telling  Dr.  Evans 
why  she  had  refused  to  abdicate,  and  how  much 
she  would  have  preferred  to  remain  in  Paris 
during  the  inevitable  siege  : 

"  I  could  have  been  of  service  in  many  ways. 
I  could  have  been  an  example  of  devotion  to 
my  country.  I  could  have  visited  the  hospitals  ; 
I  could  have  gone  to  the  outposts ;  I  could 
have  encouraged  and  stimulated  the  defence 
at  every  point  of  danger  by  my  presence.  .  .  . 
Oh  !  why  could  they  not  have  let  me  die  before 
the  walls  of  Paris  !  " 

And  so  forth ;    for  if  the  Empress  lacked 


THE  EMPRESS  EUGENIE         239 

discretion,  she,  most  assuredly,  did  not  lack 
courage.  She  was  to  have,  and  to  take,  her 
chance  of  proving  that  fact  before  the  journey 
was  over. 

An  exciting  journey,  of  which  the  particulars 
should  be  read  in  Dr.  Evans's  graphic  Memoirs. 
How  the  carriage  broke  down ;  how  other 
carriages,  and  relays  of  horses,  had  to  be 
intrigued  for  ;  how  the  travellers  got  hungry 
and  were  glad  to  divide  a  saveloy  ;  how,  at 
the  wayside  inn  at  which  they  stopped  for  the 
night,  another  guest  had  to  be  bribed  to  give 
up  his  room  to  the  "  invalid  "  and  the  "  nurse  "  : 
— these  are  details  which  cannot  be  related 
within  the  narrow  compass  of  these  pages, 
though  one  may  pause  to  say  a  word  of  the 
courtesy  of  the  shopkeeper  of  Lisieux,  who,  not 
knowing  who  the  ladies  were,  brought  chairs 
for  them  when  they  took  refuge  from  the 
rain  in  his  door- way,  while  Dr.  Evans  and 
Dr.  Crane  were  engaged  in  a  long  search  for 
a  conveyance.  They  apologised  for  the  liberty 
they  had  taken  ;  but : 

"  That,"  said  the  young  man,  "  is  a  liberty 
which  belongs  to  everybody  in  France  on  a 
rainy  day.  Should  your  carriage  not  come, 
and  should  you  get  tired  of  standing,  if  you 
will  come  into  the  office,  we  shall  be  happy  to 
find  seats  for  you." 

The  carriage  came,  however,  and  Deauville 
was  duly  reached.  Dr.  Crane  and  Mme  Lebreton 


240  WOMEN  IN   WAR 

entered  the  Hotel  du  Casino  and  asked  for 
rooms ;  while  Dr.  Evans  smuggled  the  Empress 
up  to  Mrs.  Evans's  apartment.  A  few  drops  of 
rain  gave  him  an  excuse  for  opening  his  umbrella, 
which  he  held  so  as  to  screen  the  Empress's 
face.  She  greeted  Mrs.  Evans,  and  then  fell 
back  exhausted  into  an  arm-chair,  exclaiming, 
"  Oh  !  Mon  Dieu  !  Je  suis  sauvee."  But,  of 
course,  it  still  remained  to  get  her  across  the 
Channel,  on  which  a  storm  was  raging — the 
famous  storm  in  which  the  Captain  went  down 
with  all  hands. 

Dr.  Evans  went  down  to  the  harbour  to  see 
what  could  be  arranged.  He  found  the  yacht 
Gazelle,  and  introduced  himself  to  its  owner, 
Sir  John  Burgoyne,  to  whom  he  told  his  secret 
and  preferred  his  request.  It  was  hardly 
weather  in  which  such  a  yacht  as  his  could 
safely  put  out  to  sea ;  and  the  service  which  he 
was  asked  to  render  was  not  without  its  political 
significance.  Dr.  Evans  argued  with  him. 
"  In  our  country,"  he  said,  "  every  man  will 
run  any  risk  for  a  woman,  and  especially  for 
a  lady  whose  life  is  in  danger."  Sir  John  was 
not  thinking  of  any  risk  to  himself ;  but  he 
had  Lady  Burgoyne  with  him.  It  was  agreed 
to  refer  the  matter  to  her  ;  and  she  did  not 
hesitate. 

"Why  not?  "  she  said.  "I  shall  certainly 
be  very  pleased  if  we  can  be  of  any  assistance 
to  her,  and  I  can  readily  understand  how 


THE  EMPRESS  EUGENIE          241 

anxious  she  must  be  at  the  present  moment  to 
find  a  refuge.  Let  her  come  to  us  to-night,  or 
as  soon  as  she  can  safely  do  so." 

So  Dr.  Evans  smuggled  the  Empress  down  to 
the  harbour  at  midnight,  in  the  gale — walking 
three  quarters  of  a  mile  over  sand-drifts,  stumb- 
ling into  holes  full  of  water,  and  arriving  be- 
draggled, drenched,  and  splashed,  from  head 
to  foot,  with  mud.  The  ladies  were  very  glad 
of  the  changes  of  clothing  provided  by  Lady 
Burgoyne,  and  also  of  the  hot  punch  provided 
by  Sir  John :  they  retired  to  their  bunks,  and 
the  voyage  began  at  about  seven  on  the  follow- 
ing morning. 

The  gale  was  fierce,  and  got  fiercer.  The 
spinnaker  boom  was  lost :  it  was  necessary  to 
reef  the  mainsail,  run  down  the  jib,  and  set 
the  storm- jib.  Sir  John  Burgoyne  proposed  to 
return  for  refuge  to  a  French  port ;  but  the 
Empress  begged  him  not  to,  assuring  him  that 
she  was  not  afraid.  He  said  no  more,  but 
continued  on  his  course. 

'  The  Empress  told  me  afterwards,"  writes 
Dr.  Evans,  "  that  during  this  night  she  several 
times  thought  we  were  sinking,  and  that  the 
noise  and  the  creaking  were  such  as  to  cause  her 
to  believe  that  the  yacht  would  certainly  go  to 
pieces  before  many  minutes.  '  I  was  sure  we 
were  lost/  she  said ;  '  but,  singular  as  it  may 
seem,  I  did  not  feel  alarmed  in  the  least.  I 
have  always  loved  the  sea,  and  it  had  for  me 
16 


242  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

no  terrors  then.  Were  I  to  disappear,  I  thought 
to  myself,  death,  perhaps,  could  not  come  more 
opportunely,  nor  provide  me  with  a  more 
desirable  grave.'  " 

By  degrees,  however,  the  storm  abated,  and 
the  party  landed  at  Ryde,  giving  their  names 
at  the  hotel  in  which  they  sought  shelter  as 
"Mr.  Thomas  and  sister,  with  a  lady  friend/' 
They  looked  so  dilapidated  that  the  Pier  Hotel 
declined  to  accommodate  them,  and  the  York 
Hotel  would  only  give  them  small  rooms  at 
the  top  of  the  house.  But  there  was  a  Bible 
there ;  and  the  Empress  who,  as  a  Catholic, 
was  not  very  familiar  with  Holy  Writ,  opened 
it,  in  idle  curiosity,  and  lighted  upon  a  consoling 
passage  :  "  The  Lord  is  my  shepherd  ;  I  shall 
not  want.  He  maketh  me  to  lie  down  in 
green  pastures ;  He  leadeth  me  beside  the  still 
waters."  One  can  imagine  that  the  promise 
of  "  still  waters"  struck  her  as  particularly 
apposite  at  that  hour,  and  that  the  only  text 
which  could  have  pleased  her  better  would  have 
been  that  which  promises  that,  in  the  life  after 
death,  "  there  shall  be  no  more  sea." 

Her  adventures  were  over,  however  ;  and 
she  was  able  to  go  to  Hastings  and  meet  the 
Prince  Imperial,  who  had  just  arrived  there 
after  passing  through  Belgium.  Dr.  Evans 
found  a  house  for  her — the  house  in  which  she 
lived,  for  so  many  years,  at  Chislehurst ;  and 
she  settled  down  in  it.  But,  though  her 


THE  EMPRESS  EUGENIE         243 

adventures  were  over,  she  had  not  yet  done 
with  the  diplomacy  arising  out  of  the  war  and 
the  Revolution.  There  were  still  to  be  what 
some  call  negotiations,  and  others  call  intrigues  : 
those  intrigues  (or  negotiations)  in  which  were 
mixed  up  Bazaine,  Bourbaki,  the  Prussian 
Ambassador  at  the  Court  of  St.  James's,  and 
the  mysterious  Henri  Regnier. 

Perhaps  we  shall,  some  day,  know  the  full 
truth  about  that  story ;  perhaps  we  shall  never 
know  it.  It  is  not  certain  that  the  Empress 
herself  knew  at  the  time,  or  knows  now,  who 
R£gnier  was,  or  by  whom  he  was  accredited ; 
though  the  probability  is  that  he  was  a  secret 
agent  in  the  Prussian  service.  The  purpose 
of  the  intrigue  (or  negotiation)  in  which  he  was 
employed  as  a  go-between  was  to  arrange  a 
peace :  the  Empress,  as  Regent,  to  conclude 
that  peace  over  the  heads  of  the  Provisional 
Government  of  National  Defence,  and  Bazaine's 
army  to  be  released  from  Metz  in  order  to 
guarantee  the  observation  of  the  terms  agreed 
to.  Bourbaki  was  allowed  to  go  to  Chislehurst 
to  discuss  the  matter  with  the  Empress  ;  and 
a  certain  amount  of  fresh  light  is  thrown  upon 
the  proceedings  by  the  Bernstorff  papers. 
There  is  an  account  in  them  of  a  secret  interview 
between  the  Empress  and  Count  Bernstorff  at 
Lady  Cowley's  house  in  Albemarle  Street : 

"  I  remember/'  the  editor  writes,  "  one 
point  of  curious  interest.  My  father  told  me 


244  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

that  the  Empress  was  obviously  rouged.  She 
dabbed  the  tears  out  of  her  eyes  during  the 
interview,  after  the  custom  of  ladies  who  do 
not  wish  the  salt  drops  to  injure  the  artificial 
colouring  of  their  cheeks. " 

A  very  natural  desire.  But  the  negotiations, 
very  naturally,  and  most  rightly  and  properly 
came  to  nothing.  Bismarck  may  or  may  not 
have  been  willing  to  grant  better  terms  to  the 
Empress  than  to  Jules  Favre ;  the  Empress 
may  or  may  not  have  believed  that  she  was 
serving  the  true  interests  of  France  by  treating 
with  him.  But  the  attempt,  nevertheless,  was 
an  attempt  to  override  the  will  of  the  French 
people  in  the  interest  of  the  House  of  Bonaparte, 
and  to  place  a  Bonapartist  army,  under  a 
Bonapartist  general,  in  the  field  against  the 
Republic.  The  Empress  was  acting  as  a  wife 
and  a  mother  rather  than  as  a  patriot ;  and 
it  was  well  that  she  should  fail.  What  the 
republicans  thought  of  the  attempt  was  made 
clear  when  Bazaine  stood  his  trial  for  treachery, 
and  was  told  by  the  Due  d'Aumale,  in  reply 
to  his  contention  that,  at  the  time  of  his  sur- 
render, there  was  no  Government  in  the  country 
from  which  he  held  any  commission :  "  II  y 
avait  toujours  la  France/' 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

Catherine  the  Great  of  Russia — Her  civil  war  against  her  husband — 
His  discomfiture,  arrest,  abdication,  and  death  in  prison — 
Was  she  murdered  there  ? — Was  Catherine  responsible  ? 

THE  preceding  chapters  must  have  given  the 
impression  that  women  warriors,  if  they  achieve 
distinction,  are  generally  Frenchwomen.  Even 
the  English  Queens  on  our  list  have  mostly 
been  French  by  birth.  One  might  also,  of 
course,  mention  Queen  Elizabeth  on  account 
of  the  great  military  and  naval  events  which 
happened  in  her  time  ;  but  her  personal  associa- 
tion with  them  is  hardly  more  intimate  than 
that  of  Queen  Victoria  with  the  Crimean 
expedition  and  the  Indian  Mutiny.  We  have 
all  seen  pictures  of  Queen  Elizabeth  reviewing 
the  train-bands  at  Tilbury  ;  but  a  review  is 
not  a  battle.  Nor  can  it  be  contended  that  the 
special  glories  of  the  Elizabethan  age  were 
primarily  due  to  Elizabeth,  or  even  that  she 
treated  her  great  generals  and  her  great  admirals 
particularly  well.  Russia  and  Spain  are  coun- 
tries in  which  we  may  discover  heroines  more 
definitely  distinguished  for  specific  martial 
exploits.  We  will  take  the  case  of  Russia 
first. 

245 


246  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

The  case  of  Russia  is,  of  course,  in  this  con- 
nection, the  case  of  Catherine  II,  commonly 
called  Catherine  the  Great.  How  much  of  the 
glory  of  the  conquests  of  her  reign  was  due  to 
her,  and  how  much  to  Potemkin,  may  be  dis- 
puted ;  and  most  serious  historians  will  probably 
agree  that  Potemkin  is  entitled  to  the  lion's 
share  of  it.  Even  the  civil  war  in  which 
Catherine  overthrew  her  husband,  the  debauched 
and  drunken  Peter  III,  was  less  her  work 
than  that  of  her  lover,  Gregory  Orloff,  and  his 
brother  Alexis ;  but  she  was,  at  any  rate,  up 
to  her  neck  in  the  conspiracy  which  they  pro- 
moted in  her  interests.  Her  life  was  staked  on 
the  success  of  the  game,  and  she  knew  it ;  and 
she  mounted  her  horse  and  rode  astride  to  the 
battle  which  there  was  to  be  no  need  for  her 
to  fight. 

Her  summons  came  suddenly,  at  an  hour 
when  she  was  not  expecting  it.  The  conspira- 
tors had  heard  that  their  conspiracy  had  been 
betrayed ;  and  they  knew  that,  if  they  were 
to  act  at  all,  it  was  imperative  that  they 
should  act  at  once.  So  Alexis  Orloff  tapped 
at  Catherine's  bedroom  door  at  Peterhof,  and 
bade  her  get  up  at  once  and  come  with  him  in 
the  carriage  which  he  had  waiting  for  her  ;  and 
she  joined  him  as  quickly  as  she  could,  and 
raced  through  the  white  night  of  a  northern 
midsummer — a  race  in  which,  if  a  crown  was 
the  prize,  death  on  the  scaffold,  or  in  a  dungeon, 
was  as  certainly  the  penalty  of  failure — the 


CATHERINE  THE  GREAT         247 

immediate  goal  being  the  barracks  occupied 
by  those  guardsmen  whom  the  promise  of 
handfuls  of  gold  and  bucketfuls  of  vodka  had 
corrupted  from  their  fidelity. 

The  soldiers,  like  Catherine,  were  taken  by 
surprise.  They  hurried  down  to  her,  half 
dressed,  but  dressing  as  they  came.  She  ha- 
rangued them  while  they  were  completing  their 
toilets,  and  they  cheered  her  till  the  rafters 
rang,  while  she  called  for  a  priest  to  consecrate 
her  usurpation.  And  then,  if  the  writer  may 
be  allowed  to  quote  a  previous  work  of  his  own 
— The  Comedy  of  Catherine  the  Great  : 

"  They  fetched  the  regimental  chaplain  from 
his  bed  and  hustled  him  down  into  the  barrack- 
yard — soldiers  on  each  side  of  him,  gripping 
him  firmly  by  the  arm.  They  told  him  what 
to  pray  for,  and  he  prayed  for  it.  They  told 
him  to  hold  out  the  cross  to  be  kissed,  and  he 
obeyed  them ;  and  then  they  formed  a  pro- 
cession, bidding  the  priest  carry  the  cross  aloft, 
and  pushing  him  along  in  front." 

No  violence  was  needed  for  the  suppression 
of  the  few  violent  attempts  at  resistance  :  be- 
yond the  smashing  of  the  windows  of  a  few 
wine-shops,  hardly  any  material  damage  was 
done.  In  a  very  brief  space  of  time  Catherine's 
supporters,  18,000  strong,  had  escorted  her 
in  triumph  to  the  Winter  Palace,  where  she 
dined  at  an  open  window,  coram  populo,  lifting 
her  glass,  from  time  to  time,  to  pledge  the  mob 


248  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

outside.  The  Senate  and  the  Holy  Synod  had, 
in  the  meantime,  paid  their  respects  to  her  ; 
and  the  printing-presses  had  been  set  to  work 
on  a  manifesto,  and  a  communication  to  the 
Ambassadors  and  Ministers  Plenipotentiary  : 

"  Her  Imperial  Majesty,  having  to-day  as- 
cended the  throne  of  All  the  Russias,  in  response 
to  the  unanimous  wishes  and  pressing  solicita- 
tions of  all  her  faithful  subjects,  and  all  true 
patriots  of  this  Empire,  has  given  orders  that 
the  news  of  the  event  shall  be  communicated 
to  all  the  Foreign  Ministers  residing  at  her 
Court,  and  that  they  shall  be  assured  that  Her 
Imperial  Majesty  desires  to  maintain  friendly 
relations  with  the  sovereigns,  their  masters. 
The  Ministers  will  be  informed,  at  the  earliest 
possible  moment,  on  what  day  it  will  be  con- 
venient for  them  to  present  their  compliments 
to  Her  Imperial  Majesty  and  offer  their  con- 
gratulations/' 

It  seemed  as  if  all  was  over  except  the 
shouting  ;  it  was  said,  afterwards,  that  Peter 
collapsed  "  as  easily  as  a  naughty  child  lets 
itself  be  sent  to  bed  without  its  supper."  Still, 
it  was  by  no  means  certain,  at  the  moment, 
that  Peter  would  prove  so  amenable.  He  had 
1,500  soldiers  actually  with  him,  and  others 
within  reach.  In  attendance  on  him,  more- 
over, was  Marshal  Munnich,  the  most  renowned 
of  Russian  soldiers — a  warrior  who,  having 


CATHERINE  THE  GREAT         249 

smashed  the  Turks  in  the  past,  might  well 
expect  to  be  able  to  smash  Catherine's  fac- 
tion now.  So  that  Catherine  needed  all  her 
nerve. 

She  had  plenty  of  nerve ;  she  took  the  bold 
course  at  once,  marching  against  her  hus- 
band's Palace  at  Oranienbaum,  putting  on  a 
uniform,  and  riding  astride  at  the  head  of  her 
men.  And  her  husband,  who  was  a  craven 
as  well  as  a  drunkard,  fled  before  her,  brave 
Marshal  Munnich  foaming  at  the  mouth  be- 
cause he  would  not  fight — because  no  one 
fought  except  a  few  peasants,  armed  with 
scythes,  whom  Gregory  Orion0  scattered  with 
the  flat  of  his  sword  : 

"  What !  "  the  octogenarian  warrior  ex- 
claimed. "  You're  not  going  to  put  yourself 
at  the  head  of  your  troops  and  die  like  an 
Emperor !  If  you're  afraid  of  being  hurt, 
hang  on  to  a  crucifix.  Nobody  will  dare  to 
touch  you  then,  and  I'll  do  the  fighting  for  you, 
myself." 

But  Peter  would  not  fight.  His  mistress, 
Elizabeth  Vorontsof — another  woman  in  war — 
persuaded  him  not  to.  She  had  an  idea  that, 
if  he  abandoned  his  throne,  Catherine  would 
be  willing  to  leave  him  the  Grand  Duchy  of 
Holstein,  and  that  she  might  become  his  Grand- 
Duchess.  So  he  dismantled  the  Oranienbaum 
fortifications,  and  wrote  to  Catherine,  whose 


250  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

reply  was  a  request  that  he  would  immediately 
sign  the  following  Act  of  Abdication  : 

"  During  the  brief  period  of  my  absolute 
reign  over  the  Russian  Empire  I  have  discovered 
that  I  am  not  on  a  level  with  my  task,  but  am 
incapable  of  governing  that  Empire  either  as 
a  sovereign  ruler  or  in  any  fashion  whatsoever. 
I  have  also  observed  its  decline,  and  the  im- 
minent peril  of  its  complete  collapse,  which 
would  have  covered  me  with  eternal  disgrace. 
After  mature  deliberation,  therefore,  acting 
under  no  compulsion,  I  solemnly  declare,  before 
Russia,  and  before  the  Universe,  that  I  resign 
the  government  of  the  said  Empire  for  ever  ; 
that  I  have  no  desire  to  rule  over  it,  whether 
as  absolute  ruler  or  under  any  other  form  of 
constitution ;  and  that  I  will  never  seek  to  do 
so  by  means  of  any  support  that  I  may  be  able 
to  obtain.  In  faith  whereof  I  take  my  oath, 
before  God  and  the  Universe,  having  written 
and  signed  this  Act  of  Abdication  with  my  own 
hand." 

He  wrote  it  out,  and  signed  it,  too  broken 
a  man  to  stipulate  even  that  the  offensive 
reflections  on  his  character  and  competence 
should  be  toned  down ;  so  that  Catherine's 
triumph  was  complete.  If  she  had  not  actually 
fought,  she  had  at  least  been  prepared  to 
do  so ;  and  it  was  because  she  had  been 
prepared  to  do  so  that  she  had  gained  so 
easy  a  victory.  We  may  think  that  she  humi- 


CATHERINE  THE  GREAT         251 

liated  her  husband  with  unnecessary  cruelty ; 
but  she  was  acting  under  provocation,  and  in 
self-defence.  Peter  had  insulted  her  in  public, 
and  had  announced  his  intention  of  shaving 
her  head  and  sending  her  to  a  nunnery.  A 
woman  of  Catherine's  charm,  who  enjoyed  life 
as  Catherine  did,  would  naturally  take  extreme 
measures  to  avoid  such  treatment,  and  could 
hardly  be  expected  to  show  merciful  con- 
sideration to  a  man  who  had  threatened  her 
with  it. 

So  that  Peter,  as  soon  as  he  had  signed  his 
Act  of  Abdication,  was  arrested  and  treated 
with  contumely.  He  heard  the  soldiers  on 
the  road  cheering  for  Catherine  as  he  passed 
them ;  and  then,  if  another  quotation  from 
The  Comedy  of  Catherine  the  Great  may  be 
allowed  : 

"  It  was  not  Catherine  who  received  him — 
her  attitude  was  like  that  of  the  litigant  who 
stands  aside  on  the  ground  that  the  matter  in 
dispute  has  passed  out  of  his  hands  into  those 
of  his  solicitor.  This  matter  was  in  the  hands 
of  the  soldiers ;  arid  their  hands  were  rough. 
They  sent  off  Peter's  aide-de-camp  in  one 
direction  and  his  mistress  in  another  ;  they 
turned  out  Peter's  pockets,  scattering  handfuls 
of  diamonds  on  the  ground.  '  Now  undress/ 
they  said ;  and  Peter  stood,  on  the  grand 
staircase  of  his  own  Palace,  bare-footed,  clad 
only  in  his  shirt,  a  miserable  object  of  mockery, 


252  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

crying  like  a  child.  Then  at  last  they  threw 
a  shabby  cloak  over  him,  and  drove  him  off 
to  Ropscha,  where  he  was  to  be  confined. 
According  to  one  account,  he  asked  that  his 
mistress,  his  negro  servant,  and  his  monkey 
might  accompany  him.  According  to  another 
account,  he  begged  only  for  a  bottle  of  burgundy 
and  a  pipe.  They  gave  him,  at  any  rate,  a 
Bible  and  a  pack  of  cards ;  and  he  proceeded 
to  beguile  the  time  by  building  toy  fortresses." 

Presently  he  wrote  Catherine  another  letter 
from  his  prison.  He  was  "  disgusted/'  he 
assured  her,  "  at  the  wickedness  of  mankind/ ' 
and,  in  order  that  it  might  trouble  him  the  less,  he 
"  was  resolved  henceforward  to  devote  himself 
to  a  philosophical  life."  But  he  got  no  chance 
of  doing  that — he  died  in  prison.  The  official 
bulletin  was  to  the  effect  that  he  had  been 
suddenly  carried  off  by  "  hemorrhoidal  colic  " 
— a  complaint  to  which  he  was  officially  stated 
to  be  subject.  It  was  an  obvious  lie ;  and 
there  can  be  no  doubt  whatever  that  Peter 
strangled  in  prison  by  Alexis  Orloff,  who 
was  remarkable  for  his  physical  strength. 
The  only  question  really  at  issue  is  whether 
Catherine  ordered  or  was  privy  to  the  outrage. 

D'Alembert  thought  that  she  was.  He  de- 
clined Catherine's  invitation  to  visit  her  on  the 
ground  that  "  fatal  colics  are  too  frequent  in 
that  country"  ;  but  d'Alembert,  of  course,  had 
only  rumour  to  guide  him.  This  is  what 


CATHERINE  THE  GREAT         253 

Catherine's  friend,  Princess  Dashkof,  wrote  on 
the  subject  in  her  Memoirs  : 

"  I  could  not  bring  myself  to  enter  the  Palace 
until  the  following  day.  I  then  found  the 
Empress  with  a  dejected  air,  visibly  labouring 
under  much  uneasiness  of  mind.  These  were 
her  words  when  she  addressed  me :  '  My  horror 
at  this  death  is  inexpressible  ;  it  is  a  blow 
which  strikes  me  to  the  earth.'  t  It  is  a  death 
too  sudden,  madam/  replied  I,  '  for  your  glory 
and  for  mine/  " 

Yet  Princess  Dashkof  believed  that  Catherine 
knew  nothing  of  the  crime  until  after  it  had 
been  committed  ;  and  the  present  writer  has 
indicated  elsewhere  that  he  endorsed  Princess 
Dashkof 's  verdict,  basing  his  view,  not  upon  the 
evidence — for  there  is  no  evidence  worth  speak- 
ing of — in  favour  of  either  conclusion,  but  on 
his  general  impression  of  Catherine's  character. 

"  Unless/'  he  wrote,  "  she  was  cruel  and 
vindictive  on  this  one  occasion,  she  was  very 
far  from  being  a  cruel  and  vindictive  woman  ; 
nor  was  she,  so  far  as  one  can  judge,  a  woman 
to  be  impelled  to  crime  by  fear.  But  she  was 
a  woman  in  the  hands  of  men ;  a  stranger  in 
a  land  which  had  not  outgrown  the  traditions 
of  savagery — a  land  in  which  one  Emperor  had 
fried  his  enemies  in  frying-pans,  and  another 


254  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

had  knouted  his  own  son  to  death,  and  both 
were  styled  c  the  Great/  ' 

But  Catherine  may,  nevertheless,  have  been 
ready  to  fall  in  with  the  view  of  the  kind  friends 
who  recommended  her  to  make  the  best  of  a 
bad  job  which  might  turn  out  to  be  a  blessing 
in  disguise.  Apparently  she  did  so ;  and  it  is 
difficult  to  see  what  else  there  was  for  her  to  do. 


CHAPTER   XXIV 

Spanish  wars — The  Maid  of  Saragossa — The  shooting  of  Cabrera's 
mother  and  other  hostages  in  the  Carlist  War — The  nuns  of 
Seville — The  termagants  of  Barcelona. 

IN  our  Spanish  section  one  name  stands  out 
pre-eminently :  France  is  hardly  more  proud 
of  the  Maid  of  Orleans  than  Spain  of  the  Maid 
of  Saragossa.  Unhappily,  however,  one  cannot 
make  a  long  story  about  her  without  trespassing 
on  the  domain  of  romance ;  the  authentic 
facts  are  few  and  will  fill  but  little  space. 

Spain,  it  will  be  remembered,  rose,  in  1808, 
against  King  Joseph — II  Rey  Intruso — defied 
Napoleon,  and  appealed  to  England  for  help. 
Saragossa,  in  particular,  astonished  Napoleon 
and  his  Marshals  by  the  vigour  of  its  defence, 
and  showed  them  how  a  city  could  be  defended, 
house  by  house,  and  street  by  street.  Lac- 
onic despatches  were  interchanged  between  the 
French  General  Verdier  and  the  Spanish  General 
Palafox  : 

"  Headquarters,  Santa  Engracia.— Capitula- 
tion ?  " 

"  Headquarters,  Saragossa. — War  to  the 
knife." 

255 


256  WOMEN  IN   WAR 

And  the  Spaniards  gave  the  French  war  to 
the  knife.  The  civilians  fought  as  well  as  the 
soldiers,  the  monks  as  well  as  the  laymen,  the 
women  as  well  as  the  men  ;  and  the  memorable 
scene  which  concerns  us  here  was  enacted  at 
the  Portillo  Gate.  We  shall,  no  doubt,  be 
safest  in  following  Professor  Oman's  account 
of  it: 

"  The  gunners  at  the  small  battery  in  the 
gate  had  been  shot  down  one  after  another  by 
the  musketry  of  the  assailants,  the  final  survivors 
falling  even  before  they  could  discharge  the 
last  gun  that  they  had  loaded.  The  infantry 
supports  were  flinching  and  the  French  were 
closing  in,  when  a  young  woman  named  Agostina 
Zaragoza,  whose  lover  (an  artillery  sergeant) 
had  just  fallen,  rushed  forward,  snatched  the 
lighted  match  from  his  dying  hand,  and  fired 
the  undischarged  twenty-four-pounder  into 
the  head  of  the  storming  column.  The  enemy 
was  shaken  by  a  charge  of  grape  delivered  at 
ten  paces,  the  citizens,  shamed  by  Agostina' s 
example,  rushed  back  to  reoccupy  the  battery, 
and  the  assault  was  beaten  off.  Palafox  states 
that  the  incident  occurred  before  his  own  eyes  : 
he  gave  the  girl  a  commission  as  sub-lieutenant 
of  artillery,  and  a  warrant  for  a  life  pension : 
she  was  seen  a  year  later  by  several  English 
witnesses,  serving  with  her  battery  in  Anda- 
lusia/' 

In  a  footnote,  Professor  Oman  adds : 


THE  MAID  OF  SARAGOSSA       257 

"  Sir  Charles  Vaughan  was  introduced  to  the 
heroine  by  Palafox  while  he  was  staying  in 
Saragossa.  .  .  .  He  describes  her  as  '  a  hand- 
some young  woman  of  the  lower  class/  and 
says  that,  when  he  met  her,  she  was  wearing 
on  her  sleeve  a  small  shield  of  honour  with  the 
name  '  Zaragoza '  inscribed  on  it.  The  fact  that 
the  dead  sergeant  was  her  lover  is  given  by 
Palafox  in  his  short  narrative  of  the  siege, 
which  ought  to  be  a  good  authority  enough." 

A  further  authority  is  W.  Jacob,  M.P.,  who 
travelled  in  Spain  in  the  years  1809-10,  and 
who  says  that  he  met  Agostina  at  Seville,  that 
she  was  wearing  a  blue  artillery  tunic,  with  one 
epaulette,  over  a  short  skirt,  and  that  she  was 
present  when  Lord  Wellesley  entered  Seville, 
and  was  welcomed  by  the  Junta.  One  may  as 
well  add  Napier's  commentary, — the  commen- 
tary of  a  chronicler  temperamentally  inclined 
to  scepticism,  but  driven  by  the  facts  to  faith  : 

"  Romantic  tales  of  women  rallying  the  troops 
and  leading  them  forward  at  the  most  dangerous 
period  of  the  siege  were  current ;  their  truth 
may  be  doubted.  Yet,  when  suddenly  environed 
with  horrors,  the  sensitiveness  of  women,  driving 
them  to  a  kind  of  frenzy,  might  have  produced 
actions  above  the  heroism  of  men." 

And  the  proof  is  clear  that  the  sensitiveness 
of  one  woman  did  produce  that  effect. 

Another  story  of  the  same  war,  worth  reviving 
in  the  same  connection,  relates  to  the  siege  of 


258  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

Badajoz.  Our  soldiers,  after  storming  that 
citadel,  got  out  of  hand,  drank  freely  of  what- 
ever they  could  get  to  drink,  rioted,  looted,  and 
ravished,  and  lost  all  power  of  discriminating 
between  their  French  enemies  and  their  Spanish 
friends.  One  of  their  victims  was  Dona  Juanna 
Maria  de  los  Dolores  de  Leon — a  young  lady, 
as  her  name  indicates,  of  noble  birth.  Her 
earrings  were  torn  from  her  ears ;  her  life— 
if  not  her  honour  also — was  in  peril.  But  there 
came  to  her  rescue,  in  the  nick  of  time,  a  certain 
young  Lieutenant  Smith,  who  not  only  saved 
her,  but  also  fell  in  love  with  her  and  married 
her  :  a  very  notable  romance  of  war,  seeing 
that  Lieutenant  Smith  lived  to  become  Sir 
Harry  Smith,  Governor  of  Cape  Colony,  and 
that  his  Spanish  bride  lived  to  give  her  name  to 
a  town  which  stood  a  siege  hardly  less  famous 
than  that  of  Badajoz- — the  gallant  town  of 
Ladysmith  in  Natal. 

We  turn  to  the  first  Carlist  War,  and  there 
too  we  find  stories  of  women  involved  in  the 
tragedies  of  war.  In  that  terrible  civil  struggle 
they  suffered  chiefly  as  hostages,  no  mercy 
being  shown  to  them  by  the  generals  of  either 
side.  The  most  awful  of  all  the  stories  is  that 
of  the  shooting  by  the  Cristinos  of  the  aged 
mother  of  the  Carlist  General  Cabrera.  Cabrera 
had  shot  two  alcaldes  ;  and  the  execution  of 
his  mother  was  the  Cristino  reply  : 

"  On  the  morning  of  February  16,   sitting 


THE  CARLIST  WAR  259 

in  the  stocks,  and  in  irons,  she  confessed,  but 
was  not  allowed  to  receive  the  sacrament.  She 
was  shot  without  trial  in  the  Barbacana  at 
eleven  a.m.  She  was  a  little  over  fifty- three 
years  of  age.  The  civilised  world  was  moved 
by  this  barbarous  act.  Lord  Aberdeen,  on 
March  18,  in  the  House  of  Lords,  called  it  an 
assassination/' 

So  writes  William  Bollaert,  financial  agent 
to  Don  Carlos  ;  and  William  Bollaert  also  tells 
us  how  Cabrera  exercised  reprisals  on  his  own 
women  hostages.  "  You  will  go  with  me,"  he 
told  them,  "  until  my  mother  is  liberated ;  if 
she  suffers,  you  will.  I  cannot  believe  they 
will  harm  her ;  so  be  tranquil."  But  they  had 
harmed  her  ;  and  now  : 

"  The  day  after  the  execution  it  was  known 
to  Cabrera's  aides.  On  the  igth  he  asked  them 
the  cause  of  their  gloom.  On  the  2oth,  being 
at  Valderobes,  the  commandant,  Juan  Portigaz, 
was  with  him  at  8  a.m.,  and,  on  his  asking 
for  news,  replied,  '  Some  say  your  mother  has 
been  sent  away  from  Tortosa  ;  some  that  they 
will  kill  her/  '  No/  replied  Cabrera,  '  not  while 
I  have  Fontiveros'  wife  and  the  others.  .  .  . 
Come  not  to  me  with  mysteries.  .  .  .  What  of 
my  mother  ?  '  'I  shudder  ;  I  have  to  tell 
you  the  fatal  words — your  mother  is  no  more  !  ' 
*  Portigaz,  I  wish  to  die.  No — to  live,  to 
revenge  her  death  !  '  exclaimed  Cabrera.  His 
sufferings  were  dreadful.  During  the  day  he 


260  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

had  indited  and  had  printed  the  following  : 
i.  Noguera  and  all  who  serve  the  Queen  are 
traitors.  2.  To  be  shot  at  once:  the  Senoras 
Fontiveros,  Cinta  Tos,  Mariana  Guardia,  and 
Francisca  Urquiza  ;  also  others  up  to  thirty 
in  number.  4.  For  one  shot  by  the  Cristinos 
I  will  shoot  twenty.1  An  hour  afterwards  the 
sentences  pronounced  on  those  in  his  power 
were  carried  into  execution/' 

In  the  end,  of  course,  Cabrera  was  beaten 
by  Espartero,  and  the  Cristinos  triumphed 
over  the  Carlists ;  and  then  General  Espartero 
and  Queen  Cristina  quarrelled,  and  there  was 
further  fighting.  We  are  only  concerned  with 
the  fighting  in  so  far  as  women  were  involved 
in  it ;  but  they  were  involved  in  it  on  more 
than  one  occasion.  Espartero  was  an  anti- 
clerical ;  and  consequently  the  nuns  were  his 
enemies  to  a  woman — especially  when  he 
began  a  siege  of  Seville,  and  shells  hit  the 
convents.  Then  the  nuns  descended  into  the 
streets,  screaming  that  Espartero  was  the  most 
shameless  and  sacrilegious  of  all  imaginable 
ruffians,  and  appealing  to  all  pious  men  to  fight 
him  with  all  their  force.  It  may  have  been 
partly,  though  it  certainly  was  not  entirely,  on 
account  of  their  envenomed  hostility  that  he 
raised  the  siege  and  fled. 

There  was  also,  at  about  the  same  date,  a 
striking  scene  at  a  siege  of  Barcelona — an  assault 
upon  the  gates  by  an  army  of  6,000  women. 


THE  WOMEN  OF  BARCELONA     261 

The  story,  which  has  its  humorous  aspects,  is 
related  by  Hughes  in  his  Revelations  of  Spain  : 
When  the  siege  began  the  bulk  of  the  female 
population  retired  from  the  city,  taking  their 
children  with  them.  Unfortunately,  not  expect- 
ing the  siege  to  last  long,  they  left  their  winter 
clothes  behind  them ;  with  the  result  that, 
when  the  weather  became  wet  and  cold,  they 
found  themselves  "  shivering  in  the  blast,  and 
suffering  from  the  frequent  rains,  against  which 
their  gossamer  garments  were  a  miserably  poor 
protection/'  They  sought  permission,  there- 
fore, to  return  to  Barcelona  for  their  winter 
garments ;  but  the  garrison  suspecting 
treachery,  refused  them  permission  to  enter  : 

"  Their  women/'  writes  Hughes,  "  were 
regarded  as  would  that  Adam  had  looked  on 
his  in  Paradise,  in  the  light  of  a  satanic  snare  ; 
they  dreaded  lest  their  valour  should  ooze  from 
their  lips  in  tender  salutes,  and  their  heroism 
melt  like  snow  in  the  presence  of  their  too 
long  separated  beauties,  whose  southern  ardour 
would  be  more  than  a  match  for  the  firmness 
of  Coriolanus ;  they  thought — that  is,  the  few 
classics  among  them  thought — of  the  Trojan 
horse  and  his  bellyful  of  warriors  ;  they  twitted 
their  mischievous  Helens  on  the  wall,  and 
dreaded  Narvaez's  forces,  et  dona  ferentes." 

But  the  women  advanced  none  the  less, 
prepared  to  face  bristling  lines  of  bayonets 


262  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

"  for  the  spectre  of  a  shawl  or  the  shred  of  a 
petticoat "  : 

1 '  Their  blankets,  their  shawls,  and  their 
petticoats  !  Their  petticoats,  their  shawls,  and 
their  blankets  !  Were  they  to  be  left  to  shiver 
and  to  starve  in  the  outer  world,  and  their 
ever-loving  lords  to  be  the  heartless  dragons 
by  whom  permission  for  one  single  hour  to 
seek  these  needful  articles  of  clothing  was  to 
be  sternly  refused  ?  It  could  not  be.  The 
ghosts  of  their  emaciated  limbs  would  cry  to 
La  Mancha's  sheep  for  vengeance  !  " 

Their  eloquence,  however,  was  of  no  avail ; 
and  so  their  rage  became  ungovernable.  They 
dashed  aside  the  bayonets,  and  leapt  upon  the 
astonished  sentries — and  with  great  effect  : 

"  They  mangled  the  citizen-soldiers'  faces, 
tore  their  hair,  damaged  their  eyes,  and  covered 
their  cheeks  with  scratches  ;  threw  them  on  the 
ground,  disarmed  them,  rushed  over  their 
panting  bodies,  and  flung  their  muskets  in  the 
ditch.  The  Junta  of  Defence  and  improvised 
authorities  of  the  city  became  seriously  alarmed, 
two  battalions  of  Petulia  were  called  out  to 
reinforce  the  ordinary  guards  and  pickets,  and 
the  gunners  were  sent  to  the  ramparts." 

But  the  resources  of  their  ingenuity  were  not 
yet  exhausted.  The  petticoats  were  a  prize 
worth  fighting  for,  and  the  women  continued 
to  fight  for  them  : 


THE  WOMEN  OF  BARCELONA     263 

"  Furor  arma  ministrat.  The  ladies  took  off 
their  stockings  and  filled  them  with  stones. 
They  brandished  these  formidable  weapons 
round  their  heads,  and  wielded  them  like  life- 
protectors.  At  every  blow  a  bearded  soldier 
fell.  Others,  who  preferred  a  serviceable  shawl 
to  the  flimsy  mantilla,  tied 'a  ponderous  stone 
in  one  end,  and  from  the  other  plied  it  as  a  flail. 
Others,  again,  made  sacks  perform  the  functions 
of  mallets,  and  baskets  of  basket-hilted  swords, 
sacking  the  town  with  the  former  weapon,  and 
carrying  by  storm  with  the  latter.  .  .  .  Some, 
with  their  nails,  did  terrible  execution,  and  all 
performed  prodigies  of  valour  with  their  tongues. 
Veterans  fled  from  the  aspect  of  their  enraged 
dames,  and  the  voices  of  the  assailants  were 
more  potent  to  scare  the  defenders  than  a 
battery  of  field  artillery.  For  half  an  hour 
these  new  and  unheard-of  hostilities  raged  with 
unremitting  violence,  and  Barcelona  trembled 
to  its  foundations.'1 

If  it  was  comic,  it  was  also  serious.  The 
petticoats  had  become  a  symbol,  and  the 
women  were  fighting  for  them  as  if  for  a  sen- 
timental grievance  or  an  ideal.  In  order  to 
disperse  them  it  was  actually  necessary  to  bring 
out  the  guns,  and  to  order  volley-firing.  But 
when  that  was  done  : 

"  No  flock  of  wild  geese,  alarmed  by  the 
fowler,  ever  fled  in  greater  precipitation  ;  away 
they  scampered,  matron  and  maid,  in  the 


264  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

confusion  of  a  general  panic,  and  never  halted 
till  they  reached  the  main  streets  of  Gracia, 
more  than  half  a  league  distant,  the  head- 
quarters of  the  Captain-General.  .  .  .  Happily, 
though  many  were  scratched,  and  some  slightly 
wounded,  not  one  amongst  the  whole  army  of 
6,000  met  with  a  serious  mishap." 

And  for  a  good  reason — because  the  chivalry 
of  the  men  had  not  deserted  them  in  the  hour 
of  peril  : 

"  The  cannon  were  loaded,  and  so  was  the 
musketry,  but  both  were  fired  over  the 
assailants*  heads ;  so  that  the  angels  were 
merely  fluttered  and  frightened,  draggled  a 
good  deal  in  the  mud  through  which  they 
plunged  topsy-turvy  in  their  precipitate  flight, 
and  scratched  a  little  in  the  face  by  the  onslaught 
of  their  inordinate  valour. " 

So  that  their  enterprise  was  a  failure,  and 
not  even  a  particularly  glorious  failure ;  and 
the  sequel  of  the  failure  was  unpleasant.  They 
"were  left  for  a  month  longer  shivering  and 
starving  in  the  cold  and  wet,  with  no  protection 
either  of  clothing  or  bed  furniture  to  preserve 
them  from  the  inclemencies  of  a  rigorous 
winter  "  ;  and  a  subscription  had  to  be  opened 
for  their  relief. 

That  was  the  tragic  side  of  this  serio-comic 
romance  of  war.  Viewed  in  its  broad  outlines, 


THE  WOMEN  OF  BARCELONA    265 

however,  it  indubitably  borders  on  the  farcical ; 
and  there  was  no  one  among  the  players  with 
whose  name  we  need  burden  our  memories. 
Our  next  chapter  shall  deal  with  more  serious 
matters,  and  see  how  war  affected  the  fortunes 
of  famous  Spanish  Queens. 


CHAPTER  XXV 

Queen  Cristina  of  Spain  and  General  Espartero — General  Leon's 
attempt  to  kidnap  Queen  Isabella — Fighting  on  the  palace 
staircase — Gallant  defence  by  the  Halberdiers — Capture  and 
execution  of  General  Leon — Further  fighting  in  1854  and  1866 
— The  Revolution  of  1868. 

THE  question  at  issue  in  the  Carlist  War  was  a 
simple  one  :  Should  a  bad  King  or  a  bad  Queen 
have  the  sovereign  power  in  Spain  ?  Chivalry 
favoured  the  cause  of  the  bad  Queen,  who  was 
still  a  baby,  and  therefore  not  known  to  be 
bad ;  piety  favoured  the  cause  of  the  bad  King, 
who  was  confidently  expected  to  take  money 
away  from  laymen  and  give  it  to  clergymen. 
Those  were  the  guiding  principles  which  deter- 
mined the  multitude  in  taking  sides ;  while, 
from  the  point  of  view  of  Queen  Cristina,  the 
widow  of  the  unconscionable  Ferdinand  VII, 
and  Don  Carlos,  his  unconscionable  brother, 
the  kingdom  of  Spain,  and  everything  contained 
in  it,  was  simply  a  patrimony  which  obviously 
Belonged  to  one  or  other  of  them  Neither  of 
them  would  give  way ;  so  they  fought  for  it 
with  devilish  ferocity — how  devilish  our  story 
of  the  shooting  of  Cabrera's  mother,  and  the 

266 


CRISTINA  OF  SPAIN  267 

retaliatory  shooting  of  the  wives  of  the  Cristino 
officers,  has  already  shown. 

Cristina,  in  short,  is  as  striking  an  example 
as  history  produces  of  woman  behind  the  scenes 
of  war,  pressing  springs  and  setting  the 
machinery  of  war  in  motion.  She  intrigued 
for  her  daughter's  kingdom  at  her  husband's 
death-bed,  knowing  perfectly  well  that  she — 
or  rather  her  supporters — would  have  to  fight 
for  it.  In  order  to  acquire  supporters,  she 
made  promises  of  constitutional  reform  which 
she  had  no  intention  of  fulfilling  if  she  could 
help  it.  When  the  war  was  in  progress  she 
fomented  jealousies  among  her  generals,  pitting 
one  of  them  against  another — pitting  Narvaez, 
in  particular,  against  Espartero ;  and  when 
her  quarrel  with  Espartero  compelled  her 
abdication  of  the  office  of  Regent,  she  went  to 
Paris,  intrigued  with  Espartero' s  enemies,  and 
brought  about  a  second  civil  war,  in  order  to 
recover  that  dignity,  and  avenge  herself  on  her 
antagonists. 

It  is  a  mute  point  whether  we  should  say  that 
she  made  use  of  Espartero's  enemies  or  that 
Espartero' s  enemies  made  use  of  her  ;  on  the 
whole,  perhaps  it  is  safest  to  say  that  they  ex- 
ploited each  other  to  their  mutual  satisfac- 
tion. Cristina,  at  any  rate,  got  back  to  Spain, 
and  Espartero,  after  a  brief  resistance,  made 
a  hurried  flight,  execrated  by  the  nuns 
into  whose  convents  at  Seville  we  have  seen 
him  throwing  shells.  The  multitude  was  fickle 


268  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

enough  to  receive  her  with  acclamations,  after 
having  expelled  her  with  taunts  and  threats  ; 
and  she  was  able  to  embrace  her  "  Isabelita  " 
amid  ringing  cheers.  And  Isabelita  had,  in 
the  meantime,  thanks  to  her  mother,  ac- 
quired some  experience  of  the  operations  of 
war.  Isabelita,  in  fact,  had  had  a  very  narrow 
escape  from  being  kidnapped  by  her  mother's 
friends. 

The  banner  of  rebellion  had  been  raised  by 
Leopold  O'Donnell  at  Pampeluna  ;  and  other 
leaders  had  engineered  other  revolts  in  other 
provincial  towns.  Isabella  and  her  sister,  the 
future  Duchesse  de  Montpensier,  were  living 
in  the  royal  Palace,  on  the  outskirts  of  Madrid— 
a  place  so  lonely,  according  to  Washington 
Irving,  who  was  then  American  Minister  in 
Spain,  "  that  ten  minutes'  gallop  from  its  walls 
takes  you  into  scenes  as  savage  and  deserted 
as  any  of  Salvator  Rosa's."  The  plan  was  to 
carry  the  girls  off  to  the  insurgent  headquarters, 
and  fight  Espartero  in  their  name  as  well  as 
their  mother's.  Generals  Leon  and  Concha 
were  charged  with  the  execution  of  it ;  and 
they  had  bribed  the  troops  on  guard  without 
the  Palace,  though  they  had  not  thought  it 
worth  while  to  try  to  tamper  with  the  Halberdiers 
on  guard  within.  There  were  only  a  score  of 
these — under  the  command  of  General  Domingo 
Dulce — and  it  was  not  to  be  supposed  that  they 
would  make  any  defence  worth  considering. 
It  seemed  certain  that  the  rush  would  succeed, 


ISABELLA  II  269 

and  that,  if  only  the  kidnappers  got  ten  minutes' 
start  down  the  dark  and  solitary  valley,  pursuit 
would  be  unavailing. 

Isabella  was  eleven  years  old  at  the  time — her 
sister  a  year  younger.  The  head  governess  in 
charge  of  them  was  the  Countess  Mina,  the 
widow  of  the  famous  guerilla  leader  of  the 
Peninsular  War,  from  whom  we  have  a  long 
and  exciting  account  of  the  adventure.  Mme 
Mina  had  left  the  children  in  charge  of  an 
assistant  governess  at  half-past  six,  meaning 
to  return  to  them  at  a  quarter  to  eight.  She 
was  about  to  do  so  when  she  heard  a  strange 
noise  for  which  she  could  not  account — shout- 
ing and  cheering  in  one  of  the  exterior  courts. 
She  had  no  special  reason  for  apprehending 
danger,  but  nevertheless  judged  it  well  to  hurry, 
running  first  into  the  Crystal  Gallery  where  the 
Halberdiers  were  stationed,  and  then  on  to 
the  head  of  the  main  staircase,  where  she  could 
see  what  was  happening.  This  is  what  she 
saw : 

"  A  considerable  number  of  armed  men  were 
on  the  landing  of  the  Lions ;  while  the  Hal- 
berdiers, also  armed  and  ready  for  action,  were 
stationed  by  the  balustrade  at  the  edge  of  the 
staircase.  They  were  receiving  the  first  volley 
of  the  rebels  just  at  the  moment  when  I  passed." 

She  was  under  fire,  but  was  not  hit,  though 
mirrors  were  smashed  to  right  and  left  of  her. 
She  was  still  under  fire —or  believed  that  she 


270  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

was — when  she  reached  the  door  of  the  Prin- 
cesses' apartment,  and  banged  at  it,  demanding 
instant  admission.  The  timorous  women  within 
kept  her  waiting  for  some  time,  but  withdrew 
the  bolt  at  last,  and  she  entered  and  found  her 
eleven-year-old  Queen  in  an  agony  of  terror, 
asking  whether  the  men  who  were  making  the 
noise  were  "  rebels"  and  whether  they  had 
"  come  for  her."  Nor  would  they  be  reassured 
by  the  statement  that  nothing  in  particular  had 
happened  or  was  happening.  They  sobbed  in 
the  arms  of  their  nurses  and  governesses, 
shrieking :  "  What  is  it  ?  What  is  it  ?  I 
won't  be  good  unless  you  tell  me."  They 
were  told  something— as  much  as  it  seemed 
good,  or  necessary,  to  tell  them ;  and  then 
it  was  :  "  Inez  !  Inez  !  Please  hear  me  say 
my  prayers  !  " 

The  governess,  the  under-governess,  and  the 
nurses  themselves,  in  fact,  knew  nothing  except 
that  the  Palace  was  being  attacked  and  defended, 
that  the  staircase  was  being  assailed  and  held, 
that  the  Halberdiers  had  taken  cover  behind 
the  stone  balustrade,  and  that  they  and  the 
mutineers  were  potting  at  each  other.  What 
would  happen  next  depended  upon  many 
things :  the  royal  party  could  only  wait  upon 
events,  and  prepare  for  possibilities. 

"  At  about  half-past  ten,"  Mme  Mina  re- 
ported, "  we  managed  to  persuade  the  Princesses 
to  lie  down,  though  we  took  the  precaution  of 


ISABELLA  II  271 

making  them  do  so  with  their  clothes  on,  so 
that,  whatever  happened,  we  might  not  be 
found  unprepared.  In  order  that  our  attention 
might  not  be  divided,  we  improvised  a  bed  for 
the  Infanta  in  the  Queen's  alcove  ;  and  we  had 
hardly  put  the  two  to  bed  there  when  a  bullet 
came  through  the  window,  breaking  the  glass, 
tearing  off  the  hinge,  and  remaining  embedded 
in  the  shutter  ;  so  that  if,  in  our  excitement,  we 
had  forgotten  to  fasten  the  shutter,  her  Royal 
Highness  might  have  been  killed,  and  would 
almost  certainly  have  been  hit." 

An  idea  occurred  to  Mme  Mina  :  to  force  a 
way  through  an  old  door  which  had  recently 
been  bricked  up,  and  escape  along  a  corridor 
to  a  remote  corner  of  the  Palace,  where  they 
might  hide  until  a  rescue  party  reached  them. 
She  made  the  attempt,  but  failed.  It  was  a 
mason's,  not  a  governess's  work  ;  it  needed  to 
be  done  with  a  pick-axe,  not  with  a  poker. 
There  was  nothing  for  it  but  to  trust  the  Hal- 
berdiers, who  had  sent  an  urgent  message  to 
Espartero,  appealing  for  help,  but  might,  or 
might  not,  be  able  to  hold  out  until  help  came. 
Meanwhile,  the  fusillade  continuing  : 

"  At  twelve  o'clock,"  Mme  Mina  proceeds, 
"  we  decided  to  remove  the  Princesses  to  an 
inner  room,  the  position  of  which  seemed  to 
offer  greater  security,  while  the  thickness  of 
the  walls  promised  protection  against  any  fire 
which  might  be  directed  at  the  windows.  We 


272  WOMEN  IN   WAR 

could  still  hear  the  firing  very  clearly  there  —the 
firing  in  the  Hall  of  the  Ambassadors  in  parti- 
cular made  a  terrible  noise ;  but  still  the 
Princesses  were  somewhat  reassured,  and  the 
noise  of  the  volleys  no  longer  seemed  to  trouble 
them  very  much." 

Nature,  in  short,  was  asserting  itself.  These 
were  late  hours  for  the  children — they  were 
sleepy  and  also  hungry.  No  supper,  no  break- 
fast, no  dinner,  so  long  as  the  siege  lasted — 
that  was  the  prospect  which  alarmed  them 
most ;  but  even  upon  that  prospect  they  were 
too  tired  to  dwell.  Mattresses  were  spread  for 
them  on  the  floor,  out  of  the  reach  of  bullets  ; 
they  fell  asleep,  and  slept  so  soundly  that  a 
bullet  smashed  the  window  without  disturbing 
them.  And,  while  they  slept,  the  battle  raged. 

It  had  begun,  as  we  have  seen,  at  about 
eight  o'clock  in  the  evening  ;  it  continued  to 
rage,  all  through  the  night,  until  about  six  in 
the  morning.  Then  the  fusillading  ceased,  and 
friendly  voices  were  heard.  The  door  was 
opened,  and  the  Steward  of  the  Palace  presented 
himself,  and  told  Mme  Mina  how  the  situation 
had  been  saved  in  the  nick  of  time.  The 
despatch-bearer  had  got  through,  and  the 
troops  had  been  called  out — cavalry  as  well 
as  infantry,  with  a  view  to  pursuit  as  well 
as  deliverance.  The  mutineers  had  dispersed, 
many  of  them  cut  down  in  the  act  of  flight ; 
and  the  Halberdiers  sought  humble  permission 


ISABELLA  II  273 

to  kiss  Her  Majesty's  hand  while  the  horsemen 
chased  Generals  Leon  and  Concha  down  the 
valley  in  the  dark.  Concha  escaped  from  them  ; 
but  they  caught  Leon,  and  he  faced  a  firing 
party,  in  full  uniform,  with  all  his  medals  on 
his  breast. , 

That  was  Isabella's  first  experience  of  the 
realities  of  war,  but  by  no  means  her  last. 
Reculer  pour  mieux  sauter  was  her  mother's 
motto.  Baffled  in  her  first  attempt,  Cristina 
soon  tried  again,  helped,  this  time,  by  Narvaez 
and  Espiroz,  as  well  as  Concha  and  O'Donnell. 
Espartero's  Government  collapsed  like  a  house 
of  cards,  and  two  invading  armies  converged 
upon  Madrid.  The  National  Militia  made  its 
preparations  to  resist  them  ;  and  Isabella  and 
her  sister — the  prizes  of  the  encounter — were 
once  more  in  imminent  peril.  The  National 
Guard,  as  we  read  in  one  of  Washington  Irving' s 
letters,  "  was  resolved  to  dispute  the  ground 
street  by  street,  and  to  make  the  last  stand 
in  the  royal  Palace"  ;  while  Mendizabal,  the 
leader  of  the  party,  threatened  that,  if  pushed 
to  the  utmost,  he  would  sally  forth  with  the 
Queen  and  her  sister  in  each  hand,  put  himself 
in  the  midst  of  the  troops,  and  fight  his  way  out 
of  the  city." 

Nothing  came  of  the  threat,  as  it  happened  : 
the  resistance  was  collapsing  so  fast  in  the 
provinces  that  Madrid  was  glad  to  make  terms. 
For  a  little  while,  however,  the  risk  seemed 
very  grave  ;  and  the  corps  diplomatique  as- 
18 


274  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

sembled  and  decided  that  the  task  of  saving 
the  Queen  devolved  upon  them.  They  were 
prepared,  they  announced — every  man  of  them 
— -to  proceed  to  the  Palace,  and  "  remain  there 
during  the  time  of  peril/'  placing  themselves 
and  their  diplomatic  immunity  between  the 
little  Queen  and  any  possible  assailant,  believing 
that  the  divinity  which  hedges  an  Ambassador 
would  protect  her  better  than  any  company  of 
Nationals  or  Halberdiers.  Though  the  offer 
was  declined,  we  cannot  doubt  that  the  gesture 
helped  to  bring  Mendizabal  to  reason. 

Such  is  the  manner  in  which  Isabella  was 
schooled  to  the  risks  of  war,  even  from  her 
infancy.  Presumably  it  was  because  she  was 
schooled  to  them  so  early  that  she  faced  them 
so  fearlessly  in  after-life.  Certainly  she  did 
face  them  with  admirable  nerve ;  and  there 
were  few  intervals  in  her  reign  in  which  she  was 
not  within  sight  of  them.  Two  revolutions, 
with  a  counter-revolution  intervening,  would 
not  be  an  unreasonable  description  of  the  leading 
incidents  of  her  stormy  reign  ;  while  the  years 
in  which  there  were  no  actual  revolutions  were 
often  marked  by  abortive  revolutionary  at- 
tempts. The  detailed  particulars  may  be  read 
in  The  Tragedy  of  Isabella  II :  here  we  can  only 
select  one  or  two  of  the  most  illuminating  scenes. 

In  the  revolution  of  1854  O'Donnell  took 
the  field  in  the  country,  and  the  streets  of 
Madrid  bristled  with  barricades  on  which,  in 
the  intervals  of  the  rioting,  the  revolutionists 


ISABELLA  II  275 

sat  feasting  and  playing  the  guitar.  Cristina' s 
Palace  was  burnt  in  those  alarming  days,  and 
Isabella' s  Palace  was  beleaguered.  Cristina  had 
taken  refuge  there,  and  the  mob  wanted  to  get 
hold  of  her  and  hang  her  from  a  lamp-post. 
Only  the  Palace  Guard  stood  between  her  and 
that  shocking  fate  ;  and  it  was  not  absolutely 
certain  that  the  Palace  Guard  could  be  trusted. 
The  mob  howled  for  her  blood,  singing  to  the 
air  of  La  donna  e  mobile  : 

Muera  Cristina  ! 
Muera  la  ladrona  ! 

Which  meant,  "  Death  to  Cristina !  Death 
to  the  thief!"  But  neither  Cristina  nor  her 
daughter  showed  any  sign  of  fear.  Espartero 
was  sent  for  ;  and  he  promised  to  put  the 
revolution  down,  on  condition  that  Isabella 
would  undertake,  for  the  future,  to  live  a 
moral  life,  and  grant  Spain  a  Liberal  constitu- 
tion. She  gave  the  undertaking,  though  she 
thought  morality  the  most  tiresome  of  the 
virtues  ;  and  she  bided  her  time,  made  friends 
with  O'Donnell,  intrigued  with  him  against 
Espartero,  and  was  rewarded  with  a  counter- 
revolution, which  restored  her  to  absolute 
power,  in  1856,— absolute  power  which  lasted 
until  the  movement  associated  with  the  name 
of  Prim. 

That  movement  began  with  an  abortive  rising 
in  1866.  The  Madrid  garrison  revolted  ;  and 
the  sergeants  led  their  men  against  their  officers. 


276  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

They  were  suppressed,  after  a  good  deal  of 
bloodshed  ;  and  the  inevitable  series  of  military 
executions  followed.  If  the  story  which  is  told 
be  true,  Isabella's  temper,  at  that  time,  was 
like  that  of  the  tiger  which  has  tasted  blood. 
She  sent  a  message  to  O'Donnell — or,  at  all 
events,  a  message  purporting  to  come  from  her 
reached  O'Donnell,  to  the  effect  that  she  desired 
all  the  prisoners,  without  exception,  to  be  shot  ; 
that  the  establishment  of  their  identity  might 
be  regarded  as  sufficient  proof  of  their  guilt. 
Whereto  O'Donnell,  who  had  lost  some  of  his 
thirst  for  blood  with  the  advancing  years, 
retorted  bitterly : 

"  Does  not  the  lady  understand  that,  if  we 
were  to  shoot  all  the  prisoners  taken  in  arms 
against  her,  the  blood  would  rise  until  it  drowned 
her  even  in  her  boudoir?  For  my  part,  I 
shoot  no  one.  There  are  competent  tribunals 
to  try  offenders  and  condemn  the  guilty." 

And  he  stalked  out  of  her  Palace,  vowing  that 
he  would  never  set  foot  in  it  again  so  long  as 
she  was  on  the  throne. 

But  she  was  not,  as  it  happened,  to  remain 
on  the  throne  a  great  deal  longer.  Previous 
revolutions  had  only  been  directed  against  her 
advisers  ;  the  revolution  of  1868  was  directed 
against  herself.  The  programme  of  the  revolu- 
tionists was  to  "  pitch  the  throne  out  of 
window."  So  the  storm  broke  at  a  time  when 
Isabella,  attended  by  her  lover  Marfori,  the  son 


ISABELLA  II  277 

of  an  Italian  cook,  and  once  a  strolling  player, 
was  enjoying  herself  at  the  pleasant  seaside 
resort  of  San  Sebastian.  She  was  at  a  ball 
there  when  she  heard  the  rumour — speedily 
confirmed — that  Admiral  Topete  had  "  pro- 
nounced "  at  Cadiz,  and  that  Captain-General 
Serrano— with  whom,  twenty  years  before,  she 
had  been  in  love — was  marching  on  Madrid. 

Once  more  she  showed  great  courage  in  the 
hour  of  trial.  Her  first  idea  was  to  sail  for 
Cadiz  on  a  ship  of  war  which  was  lying  at  anchor 
in  the  port ;  but  the  captain,  whose  sympathies 
were  with  Topete,  set  off  for  Cadiz  without 
waiting  for  her.  Then  she  proposed  to  make  all 
haste  to  Madrid  ;  but  General  Concha,  who  was 
commanding  there  on  her  behalf,  sent  a  despatch 
exhorting  her  to  stay  where  she  was.  He  feared 
that,  if  she  came,  she  would  bring  her  lover  with 
her,  and  that  her  lover's  arrival  would  set 
Madrid  itself  ablaze.  So  she  contented  her- 
self with  sending  telegrams,  and  waited  until 
it  was  unsafe  for  her  to  wait  any  longer  ;  and 
then,  Serrano  having  defeated  Novaliches  at 
the  Bridge  of  Alcolea,  and  entered  Madrid  in 
triumph,  she  took  a  special  train  for  Biarritz, 
where  Napoleon  III  and  the  Empress  Eugenie 
welcomed  her  and  did  what  they  could  to  make 
her  comfortable. 

It  was  a  sorry  end,  truly,  to  her  experiences 
of  the  tented  field,  though  she  had  no  one  but 
herself  to  blame  for  it ;  and  we  cannot  con- 
clude the  chapter  dealing  with  her  adventures 


278  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

better  than  by  quoting  a  verse  from  the  topical 
song  with  which  her  enemies  pursued  her  into 
exile : 

Los  reyes  que  salen  a  balazos 

Acaro  volveran: 
Pero  aquellos  que  salen  a  escobazos, 

Esos  no  volveran. 

An  expression  of  opinion  that,  though  re- 
storation was  always  possible  for  sovereigns 
defeated  in  civil  wars,  there  was  no  prospect 
of  return  for  those  who  fled  ignominiously,  as 
if  beaten  out  with  broom-sticks. 


CHAPTER   XXVI 

Women  in  war  in  India— Cawnpore— Details  of  the  siege  and  the 
massacre. 

ENGLAND  has  been  so  seldom  and  so  ineffectively 
invaded  that  Englishwomen  have  probably 
seen  less  of  war  than  the  women  of  any  other 
European  nation.  In  civil  strife  wives  have, 
now  and  again,  held  castles  for  absent  husbands  ; 
and  there  is,  of  course,  the  story  of  the  women 
of  Fishguard,  whose  red  shawls  caused  the 
French  raiding  party  to  mistake  them  for 
militia-men,  and  so  expedited  their  capitulation. 
But  Englishwomen  at  home  have  never  had 
to  respond  to  the  same  call  upon  their  courage 
as  the  French  during  the  Hundred  Years'  War, 
or  the  Spaniards  during  the  Peninsular  War, 
or  the  Dutch  during  the  struggle  which  gained 
them  their  independence.  Those  of  them  who 
have  shared  men's  dangers  have  been  those 
who  have  crossed  the  seas  with  their  husbands, 
and  helped,  in  the  ways  in  which  women  can 
help,  in  the  building  of  the  Empire. 

Abroad— and  notably  in  India— they  have- 
had,  if  not  to  fight,  at  least  to  endure,  and  to 
look  imminent  death  again  and  again  in  the 
eyes.  Most  notably  in  the  year  of  the  Mutiny, 

279 


280  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

perhaps,  but  also  on  many  occasions  before  and 
after  that  terrible  time,  they  have  been  called 
upon  to  give  their  proofs,  and  have  given  them. 
Women,  it  will  be  remembered,  were  among 
those  who  endured  the  horrors  of  the  Black 
Hole  at  Calcutta  ;  women  were  surrendered 
as  hostages  in  that  first  Afghan  War  which 
resulted  in  the  destruction  of  an  entire  British 
army  in  the  Khyber  Pass ;  to  comparatively 
recent  times  belongs  the  story  of  Mrs.  Grim- 
wood's  flight  from  the  massacre  at  Manipur. 
Where  the  material  is  sufficient  to  fill  an  ency- 
clopaedia, one  can  only  select  a  few  typical 
scenes  for  presentation.  The  scene  at  Cawnpore 
will  serve. 

Sir  George  Trevelyan's  is  perhaps  the  most 
graphic  of  the  narratives  of  it  :  he  strikes 
with  graphic  power  the  note  of  contrast  between 
the  lives  lived  by  the  women  involved  in  it 
before  and  after  the  day  of  the  revolt : 

"  These  women  had  spent  their  girlhood  in 
the  pleasant  watering-places  and  country  homes 
of  our  island,  surrounded  by  all  of  English 
comfort  and  refinement  that  Eastern  wealth 
could  buy.  Their  later  years  had  slipped  away 
amidst  the  secure  plenty  and  languid  ease  of 
a  European  household  in  India.  In  spacious 
saloons,  alive  with  swinging  punkahs ;  where 
closed  and  darkened  windows  excluded  the 
heated  atmosphere,  and  produced  a  counterfeit 
night,  while  through  a  mass  of  wetted  grass 


CAWNPORE  281 

poured  a  stream  of  artificial  air  ;  with  piles  of 
ice,  and  troops  of  servants,  and  the  magazines 
of  the  preceding  month,  and  the  sensation 
novels  of  the  preceding  season,  monotonous 
but  not  ungrateful,  the  even  days  flew  by." 

And  then  came  the  change,  brought  about 
almost  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye.  A  thousand 
souls,  of  whom  only  465  were  men,  were  herded 
together  in  a  small  enclosure,  and  bombarded 
there  by  night  and  day.  The  women  were 
placed  there  in  plenty  of  time ;  but  the  men 
followed  them  at  the  last  moment,  and  in  a 
hurry : 

"  There  was  no  time  for  packing,  or  even  for 
selection.  There  was  not  leisure  to  snatch  a 
parting  cup  of  coffee,  or  a  handful  of  cigars, 
or  an  armful  of  favourite  books,  or  a  pith 
helmet  that  had  been  tested  by  many  a  long 
day's  tiger-shooting  under  the  blazing  Indian 
sun.  .  .  .  Few  and  happy  were  they  who  had 
secured  a  single  change  of  raiment.  .  .  .  Half- 
clad,  unbreakfasted,  confused  and  breathless, 
our  countrymen  huddled  like  shipwrecked  sea- 
farers into  the  precincts  of  the  fatal  earthwork, 
which  they  entered  only  to  suffer,  and  left  only 
to  die." 

They  had  hardly  occupied  their  improvised 
citadel,  and  arranged  for  its  defence,  than 
the  attack  began — the  concentrated  fire  of 


282  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

thousands  of  muskets  and  a  score  of  heavy 
cannon : 

"  At  first  every  projectile  which  struck 
the  barracks  was  the  signal  for  heartrending 
shrieks,  and  low  wailing  more  heartrending  yet ; 
but,  ere  long,  time  and  habit  taught  them  to 
suffer  and  to  fear  in  silence.  Before  the  third 
evening  every  window  and  door  had  been 
beaten  in.  Next  went  the  screens,  the  piled- 
up  furniture,  and  the  internal  partitions ;  and 
soon  shell  and  ball  ranged  at  will  through  and 
through  the  naked  rooms.  Some  ladies  were 
slain  outright  by  grape  or  round-shot.  Others 
were  struck  down  by  bullets.  Many  were 
crushed  beneath  falling  brick- work,  or  mutilated 
by  the  splinters  which  flew  from  shattered  sash 
and  panel. " 

And,  of  course,  the  peril  of  the  bombardment 
was  only  one  among  many  horrors : 

"  Accustomed  to  those  frequent  ablutions 
which,  in  England  at  least  a  duty,  are  in  India 
a  necessity,  they  had  not  a  single  spongeful 
of  water  for  washing  from  the  commencement 
to  the  close  of  the  siege.  They  who,  from 
childhood  upwards,  in  the  comprehensive  and 
pretty  phrase  which  ladies  love,  '  had  had 
everything  nice  about  them/  were  now  herded 
together  in  fetid  misery,  where  delicacy  and 
modesty  were  hourly  shocked,  though  never 
for  a  moment  impaired.  Unshod,  unkempt, 
ragged  and  squalid,  haggard  and  emaciated, 


CAWNPORE  283 

parched  with  drought  and  faint  with  hunger, 
they  sat  waiting  to  hear  that  they  were  widows. 
Each  morning  deepened  the  shadow  in  the 
youngest  cheek,  and  added  a  new  furrow  to 
the  fairest  brow.  Want,  exposure,  and  depres- 
sion speedily  decimated  that  hapless  company. 
In  these  regions,  a  hideous  train  of  diseases 
stand  always  within  call :  fever  and  apoplexy, 
and  the  fell  scourge  of  cholera  and  dysentery, 
plague,  more  ghastly  still.  .  .  . 

"  .  .  .  Woe  was  it  in  those  days  unto  them 
that  were  with  child.  There  were  infants  born 
during  the  terrible  three  weeks ;  infants  who 
had  no  future.  There  were  women  who  under- 
went more  than  all  the  anguish  of  maternity, 
with  less  than  none  of  the  hope  and  joy.  ... 
An  ayah,  while  dandling  an  infant,  lost  both 
her  legs  by  the  blow  of  a  cannon-ball.  That 
was  in  truth  a  dismal  nursery. " 

So  that  horrors  accumulated  on  horror's 
head.  We  will  not  dwell  upon  the  painful 
details,  but  will  finish  the  story  of  the  siege 
with  two  scenes  in  which  two  women  appear 
—one  the  wife  of  an  officer,  and  the  other  the 
wife  of  a  private,  and  both  acquitting  them- 
selves courageously  and  cheerfully : 

"  During  one  of  the  earliest  of  the  sorties, 
eleven  mutineers  were  captured,  and  brought 
into  the  entrenchment.  As  no  sentry  could 
just  then  be  spared  from  the  front,  they  were 
placed  under  the  charge  of  Bridget  Widdowson, 


284  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

a  stalwart  dame,  wife  of  a  private  of  the  32nd 
Regiment.  Secured  by  the  very  insufficient 
contrivance  of  a  single  rope,  passed  from  wrist 
to  wrist,  they  sat  quietly  on  the  ground  like 
good  children,  while  the  matron  walked  up 
and  down  in  front  of  the  row,  drawn  sword  in 
hand." 

The  officer's  wife  was  Mrs.  Moore,  whose 
husband,  Captain  Moore,  was  the  soul  of  the 
defence — an  Irishman  who  fought  in  high 
spirits  as  well  as  bravely : 

"  When  the  vicissitudes  of  battle  called  her 
husband  to  the  outposts,  Mrs.  Moore  would 
step  across  with  her  work,  and  spend  the  day 
beneath  a  little  hut  of  bamboos  covered  with 
canvas,  which  the  garrison  of  Barrack  No.  2 
had  raised  for  her  in  their  most  sheltered  corner. 
Seldom  had  fair  lady  a  less  appropriate  bower." 

So  the  days  passed  until,  at  the  end  of  three 
weeks,  Nana  Sahib's  offer  of  a  safe-conduct  to 
Allahabad  was  accepted  ;  and  the  story  of  the 
N  ana's  treachery,  culminating  in  the  Cawnpore 
massacre,  is  too  well  known  to  every  one  to 
be  repeated  in  detail  here.  The  refugees  were 
put  on  boats,  and  then  the  boats  were  fired 
on,  and  the  few  who  were  not  killed  and  had 
not  the  rare  luck  to  escape  were  brought  back 
as  prisoners.  Most  of  the  men  were  killed 
forthwith ;  the  women,  with  only  a  very  few 
men  among  them,  were  placed  in  a  humble 
dwelling,  since  known  in  India  as  the  House 


CAWNPORE  285 

of  the  Ladies  and  in  England  as  the  House  of 
the  Massacre  : 

"It  comprised  two  principal  rooms,  each 
twenty  feet  by  ten,  certain  windowless  closets 
intended  for  the  use  of  native  domestics,  and 
an  open  court  some  fifteen  feet  square.  Here, 
during  a  fortnight  of  the  eastern  summer,  were 
penned  206  persons  of  European  extraction, 
for  the  most  part  women  and  children  of 
gentle  birth.  The  grown  men  were  but  five 
in  number.  .  .  .  They  had  neither  furniture, 
bedding,  nor  straw  ;  nothing  but  coarse  and 
hard  bamboo  matting,  unless  they  preferred 
a  smoother  couch  upon  the  bare  floor.  They 
fed  sparely  on  cakes  of  unleavened  dough, 
and  lentil-porridge  dished  up  in  earthen  pans 
without  spoon  or  plate.  There  was  some  talk 
of  meat  on  Sundays,  but  it  never  came  to 
anything.  .  .  .  The  matron  of  these  female 
prisoners,  whom  it  took  so  little  to  keep  in 
order  was  ...  a  waiting-maid  of  the  courtesan 
who  then  ruled  the  circle  of  the  Nana.  The 
Begum  daily  took  across  two  ladies  to  the 
N ana's  stables,  where  they  were  set  down  to 
grind  corn  at  a  handmill  for  the  space  of  several 
hours.  .  .  . 

"  Hardship,  heat,  wounds,  and  want  of  space 
and  proper  nourishment  released  many  from 
their  bondage  before  the  season  marked  out 
by  Azimoolah  for  a  jail  delivery  such  as  the 
world  had  seldom  witnessed.  Within  eight 
days  there  succumbed  to  cholera  and  dysen- 


286  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

tery,  eighteen  women,  seven  children,  and  a 
Hindoo  nurse.  .  .  .  Dying  by  threes  and  fours 
of  frightful  maladies,  the  designations  of  which 
they  hardly  knew ;  trying  to  eat  nauseous 
and  unwonted  food,  and  to  sleep  upon  a 
bed  of  boards ;  tormented  by  flies  and  mos- 
quitoes, and  dirt,  and  prickly  heat,  and  all 
the  lesser  evils  that  aggravate  and  keep  for 
ever  fresh  the  consciousness  of  a  great  mis- 
fortune ;  doing  for  the  murderer  of  their 
dearest  ones  that  labour  which  in  Asia  has 
always  been  the  distinctive  sign  and  badge 
of  slavery ;  to  such  reality  of  woe  had  been 
reduced  those  beings  for  whom  nothing  had 
formerly  been  too  dainty  and  well-appointed ; 
whose  idea  of  peril  had  once  been  derived  from 
romances  ;  and  who  had  been  acquainted  with 
destitution  only  through  tracts  and  the  reports 
of  charitable  institutions/' 

They  were  "  hostages ";  and  there  was  a 
danger  that  they  would  die  so  fast  that  the 
Nana  would  have  no  hostages  left  in  the  hour 
of  need.  Fearing  that  result,  he  caused  them 
to  be  driven  twice  a  day  into  the  verandah, 
there  to  inhale  enough  fresh  air  to  keep  them 
alive,  while  idlers  stood  about  and  stared  at 
them.  Meanwhile,  the  reinforcements  from 
England  were  coming,  ignorant,  save  for 
rumour,  of  the  exact  conditions  prevailing 
at  Cawnpore,  but  fighting  their  way  to  the 
deliverance  of  the  captives.  They  had  won 


CAWNPORE  287 

battles,  and  were  close  at  hand,  when  the 
Nana  decided  that,  instead  of  using  his  prisoners 
as  an  asset  in  a  bargain,  he  would  have  them 
killed. 

It  was  a  decision  to  which,  one  is  glad  to 
know,  the  ladies  of  his  own  household  opposed 
such  resistance  as  they  could.  If  he  murdered 
women,  they  said,  they  would  throw  themselves 
and  their  children  out  of  the  upper  windows. 
To  show  that  they  meant  what  they  said,  they 
began  what  we  now  call  a  "hunger-strike"; 
but  the  only  result  of  the  protest  was  to  ex- 
pedite the  execution  of  the  order.  Many  of 
the  sepoys  shrank  from  the  task ;  but  willing 
murderers  were  found — some  of  them  butchers 
by  trade.  They  drew  their  swords  and  entered ; 
and  then — too  late — Havelock  fought  his  way 
into  the  town,  and  Nana  Sahib  fled  into  the 
wilderness,  and  covered  up  his  tracks  so  effec- 
tively that  no  one,  to  this  day,  knows  for 
certain  what  became  of  him,  or  what  sort  of 
an  end  he  made. 


CHAPTER  XXVII 

The  First  Afghan  War— The  retreat  through  the  Khyber  Pass— The 
massacre — Extracts  from  Lady  Sale's  Diary. 

IT  is  agreed  that  the  first  Afghan  War  was 
a  blunder,  alike  in  conception  and  in  exe- 
cution ;  but  this  is  not  the  place  in  which 
to  review  the  political  miscalculations  which 
inspired  it.  Enough  that  we  undertook,  for 
insufficient  reasons,  to  set  Shah  Soojah  on 
the  throne  occupied  by  Dost  Mahomed,  and 
that  disaster  was,  from  the  first,  predicted 
by  those  best  qualified  to  judge.  Marquis 
Wellesley  wrote  of  "  this  wild  expedition  into 
a  distant  region  of  rocks  and  deserts,  of  sands 
and  ice  and  snow."  Mr.  Elphinstone,  who 
knew  Afghanistan  well,  predicted  that  "  if 
an  army  was  sent  up  the  passes,  and  if  we 
could  feed  it,  no  doubt  we  might  take  Cabul 
and  set  up  Shah  Soojah  ;  but  it  was  hope- 
less to  maintain  him  in  a  poor,  cold,  strong 
and  remote  country,  among  so  turbulent  a 
people." 

Nevertheless  an  army  was  assembled  and 
despatched,  and  Shah  Soojah  was  escorted  into 
Cabul  on  August  6,  1839  ;  and  it  was  clearly 

288 


THE  KHYBER  PASS  289 

seen  that,  if  his  throat  was  not  to  be  cut  by 
his  subjects,  the  expeditionary  force  must 
remain  as  an  army  of  occupation.  Conse- 
quently, to  quote  Archibald  Forbes' s  History 
of  the  War  : 

"  The  officers  sent  for  their  wives  to  inhabit 
with  them  the  bungalows  in  which  they  had 
settled  down.  Lady  Macnaghten,  in  the 
spacious  mission  residence  which  stood  apart 
in  its  own  grounds,  presided  over  the  society 
of  the  cantonments,  which  had  all  the  cheery 
surroundings  of  the  half-settled,  half-nomadic 
life  of  our  military  people  in  the  East.  There 
were  the  '  coffee  house '  after  the  morning 
ride,  the  gathering  round  the  band-stand  in 
the  evening,  the  impromptu  dance,  and  the 
burra  khana  occasionally  in  the  larger  houses. 
A  race-course  had  been  laid  out,  and  there 
were  '  sky '  races  and  more  formal  meetings. 
And  so  *  as  in  the  days  that  were  before  the 
Flood,  they  were  eating  and  drinking  and 
marrying  and  giving  in  marriage,  and  knew 
not  until  the  flood  came,  and  took  them  all 
away/  " 

But  the  government,  as  Archibald  Forbes 
also  writes,  "  was  a  government  of  sentry- 
boxes,"  and  Afghanistan  was  "  not  governed 
so  much  as  garrisoned."  The  line  of  com- 
munications was  long,  and  was  interrupted 
from  time  to  time  in  the  summer  of  1840  ; 
and  Sir  William  Macnaghten,  the  British  Envoy 


2go  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

to  the  Court  of  Shah  Soojah,  became  "  mourn- 
fully conscious  that  the  capital  and  the  sur- 
rounding country  were  ripe  for  a  rising. " 
General  Nott,  a  level-headed  but  peppery 
Anglo-Indian  officer  of  the  old  school,  who 
hated  "  politicals,"  wrote  vigorously  from 
Candahar  : 

lt  The  conduct  of  the  thousand  and  one 
politicals  has  ruined  our  cause,  and  bared  the 
throat  of  every  European  in  this  country  to 
the  sword  and  knife  of  the  revengeful  Afghan 
and  bloody  Belooch ;  and,  unless  several  regi- 
ments be  quickly  sent,  not  a  man  will  be  left 
to  describe  the  fate  of  his  comrades." 

He  wrote  in  a  burst  of  temper,  and  probably 
without  surmising  how  true  a  prophet  he  was 
to  be.  Military,  as  well  as  political  incapacity, 
was  needed  to  make  the  catastrophe  com- 
plete ;  both  were  to  be  forthcoming  in  abun- 
dance. One  dangerous  step  was  the  cutting 
down  of  subsidies  paid  to  Afghan  chiefs 
as  bribes  for  good  behaviour — a  measure  for 
which  the  Ghilzais  avenged  themselves  by 
quitting  Cabul,  occupying  the  passes  between 
Cabul  and  Jellalabad,  and  intercepting  the 
communications  with  India  by  the  Khyber 
route.  Sir  Robert  Sale  had  to  fight  his  way 
to  Jellalabad  in  order  to  clear  the  passes;  but 
still  the  people  at  Cabul  did  not  understand 
that  very  much  was  the  matter,  though  they 
were  annoyed  by  the  temporary  interruption 


THE  KHYBER   PASS  291 

of  the  postal  service.  Lady  Sale  was  about 
to  leave  for  India,  accompanied  by  the  Mac- 
naghtens  and  General  Elphinstone,  and — to 
quote  Forbes  again  : 

'  Her  Diary  expresses  an  undertone  of  re- 
gret at  having  to  leave  the  snug  house  in  the 
cantonments  which  Sale  had  built  on  his 
own  plan,  the  excellent  kitchen  garden  in 
which  her  warrior  husband,  in  the  intervals  of 
his  soldiering  duties,  grew  fine  crops  of  peas, 
potatoes,  cauliflowers,  and  artichokes,  and 
the  parterres  of  flowers  which  she  herself 
cultivated,  and  which  were  the  admiration  of 
the  Afghan  gentlemen  who  came  to  pay  their 
morning  calls. " 

The  entry  thus  summarised  is  dated  October 
31  ;  and  the  rising  began  on  November  2. 
In  consequence  of  that  rising,  in  which  Sir 
Alexander  Burnes  lost  his  life,  it  was  decided 
to  send  for  Sale,  who  decided,  for  sufficient 
military  reasons,  not  to  come,  and  to  ask  for 
a  reinforcement  from  Candahar — a  reinforce- 
ment which  could  not  be  sent,  owing  to  the 
severity  of  the  weather.  Such  fighting  as 
occurred  resulted  disastrously.  The  troops 
had  to  be  concentrated  in  the  cantonments, 
and  terms  had  to  be  made. 

Whether  it  was  wise,  or  soldier-like,  to  accept 
the  terms  offered  is  a  question  which  we  have 
to  leave.  Certainly  nothing  worse  than  befell 
the  party  could  have  befallen  them,  if  they 


292  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

had  defied  the  Afghans  to  do  their  worst,  and 
held  out  to  the  last  extremity  ;  and  it  was 
also  certain  at  the  time  that  the  Afghan  chiefs 
could  not  control  their  men,  and  that  no  engage- 
ment into  which  they  might  enter  was  worth 
the  paper  on  which  it  was  written.  Still,  rightly 
or  wrongly,  it  was  decided  to  submit  :  to  hand 
over  all  small-arms  and  ordnance  stores  as 
"  a  token  of  friendship "  to  the  Afghans, 
and  to  agree  to  march  back  to  India,  at  the 
height  of  a  cruelly  cold  winter,  trusting  to  the 
promise  of  the  chiefs  to  supply  them  with 
provisions  and  protect  them. 

The  4,500  armed  men — 690  of  them  Europeans 
— might  reasonably  have  expected,  if  unen- 
cumbered, to  cut  their  way  through  all  the 
Afghans  in  Afghanistan ;  but  encumbrances 
are  the  curse  of  Indian  armies.  With  this 
army  there  were  no  fewer  than  12,000  camp- 
followers,  together  with  many  invalids,  many 
women,  and  many  children ;  and  the  tem- 
perature was  well  below  zero,  and  the  snow 
more  than  a  foot  deep.  It  took  the  host  two 
hours  and  a  half  to  march  the  first  mile ;  and, 
as  the  army  evacuated  the  cantonments,  the 
Afghans  poured  into  them,  and  fired  on  the 
rear-guard.  So  the  disorder  began  at  once. 
As  Lady  Sale  writes  : 

"  The  servants  who  were  not  concerned  in 
the  plunder  all  threw  away  their  loads,  and 
ran  off.  Private  baggage,  commissariat,  and 


THE  KHYBER  PASS  293 

ammunition  were  nearly  annihilated  at  one 
fell  swoop.  The  whole  road  was  covered  with 
men,  women,  and  children  lying  down  in  the 
snow  to  die.  The  only  baggage  we  saved  was 
Mrs.  Sturt's  bedding,  on  which  the  ayah  rode." 

Altogether — the  whole  country  being  "  a 
swamp  encrusted  with  ice  " — only  six  miles  were 
covered  in  the  course  of  the  first  day  ;  and  the 
halt  for  the  night  was  made  in  great  discomfort : 

1  There  were  no  tents  save  two  or  three 
small  palls  that  arrived.  All  scraped  away  the 
snow  as  best  they  might,  to  make  a  place 
to  lie  down  on.  The  evening  and  night  were 
intensely  cold :  no  food  for  man  or  beast 
procurable.  .  .  .  Captain  Johnson,  in  our 
great  distress,  kindly  pitched  a  small  pall 
over  us  :  but  it  was  dark,  and  we  had  few 
pegs ;  the  wind  blew  in  under  the  sides  and 
I  felt  myself  gradually  stiffening.  I  left  the 
bedding,  which  was  occupied  by  Mrs.  Sturt  and 
her  husband,  and  doubled  up  my  legs  in  a 
straw  chair  of  Johnson's/' 

And  Lady  Sale  remembered  how,  while  her 
party  had  been  considering  whether  they 
could  save  any  of  their  books,  she  had  opened 
one  of  the  volumes,  in  a  manner  reminiscent 
of  the  old  Sortes  Virgiliance,  and  lighted 
upon  these  ominous  lines  : 

Few,  few  shall  part  where  many  meet, 
The  snow  shall  be  their  winding-sheet ; 
And  every  turf  beneath  their  feet 
Shall  be  a  soldier's  sepulchre. 


294  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

"  Heaven  forbid/'  she  comments,  "  that  our 
fears  should  be  realised !  but  we  have  com- 
menced our  retreat  so  badly  that  we  may 
reasonably  have  our  doubts  regarding  the 
finale."  Doubts  strengthened  when  "  at  day- 
break we  found  several  men  frozen  to  death/' 
and  when  the  officers  of  the  rear -guard  re- 
ported that  the  road  was  strewn  with  aban- 
doned baggage,  and  that  "  numbers  of  men, 
women,  and  children  are  left  on  the  road- 
side to  die."  And  worse  was  to  follow,  and 
that  quickly.  Already  the  Afghans,  in  de- 
fiance of  the  undertaking  of  their  chiefs, 
were  beginning  to  hover  threateningly  on  the 
flanks  of  the  retreating  army ;  already  it  was 
necessary  to  spike  and  abandon  guns,  while 
fatigue  parties  sent  to  draw  water  were  fired 
on ;  and,  at  one  point,  the  Afghan  horsemen 
charged  and  "  succeeded  in  carrying  off  an 
immense  quantity  of  baggage  and  a  number  of 
camels,  without  experiencing  the  least  resist- 


ance/3 


So  January  7  passed ;  and  the  dawn  of 
January  8  found  "  nearly  every  man  paralysed 
with  cold,  so  as  to  be  scarcely  able  to  hold 
his  musket  or  move/'  They  broached  casks 
of  spirits,  and  drank  too  freely  of  their  contents  : 

"  For  myself,"  writes  Lady  Sale,  "  whilst 
I  sat  for  hours  on  my  horse  in  the  cold,  I  felt 
very  grateful  for  a  tumbler  of  sherry,  which 
at  any  other  time  would  have  made  me  very 


THE  KHYBER  PASS  295 

unladylike,  but  now  merely  warmed  me,  and 
appeared  to  have  no  more  strength  in  it 
than  water.  Cups  full  of  sherry  were  given  to 
young  children  three  and  four  years  old  with- 
out in  the  least  affecting  their  heads." 

Then  the  march  was  resumed  ;  and  the  ladies, 
as  well  as  the  soldiers,  quickly  found  them- 
selves under  fire  : 

"  The  pony  Mrs.  Sturt  rode  was  wounded 
in  the  ear  and  neck.  I  fortunately  had  only 
one  ball  in  my  arm  ;  three  others  passed  through 
my  poshteen  near  the  shoulder  without  doing 
me  any  injury.  The  party  that  fired  on  us 
were  not  more  than  fifty  yards  from  us,  and 
we  owed  our  escape  to  urging  our  horses  on 
as  fast  as  they  could  go  over  a  road  where, 
at  any  other  time,  we  should  have  walked  our 
horses  very  carefully." 

There  were  other  women  who  lost  their 
horses — women,  some  of  them,  with  little 
children  in  their  charge.  Often  they  were  cut 
down,  or  carried  off ;  but  a  few  reached  camp 
safely.  Lady  Sale  tells  us  how  Mrs.  Mainwaring 
"  preserved  her  child  through  these  dreadful 
scenes  "  : 

"  She  not  only  had  to  walk  a  considerable 
distance  with  her  child  in  her  arms  through 
the  deep  snow,  but  had  also  to  pick  her  way 
over  the  bodies  of  the  dead,  dying,  and  wounded, 
both  men  and  cattle,  and  constantly  to  cross 


296  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

the  streams  of  water,  wet  up  to  the  knees, 
pushed  and  shoved  about  by  men  and  animals, 
the  enemy  keeping  up  a  sharp  fire,  and  several 
persons  being  killed  close  to  her.  She,  how- 
ever, got  safe  to  camp  with  her  child,  but 
had  no  opportunity  to  change  her  clothes." 

And  the  camp  was  a  poor  place  of  refuge. 
Already  500  regulars  and  about  2,500  camp- 
followers  had  been  killed  : 

"  To  sleep  in  such  anxiety  of  mind  and  in- 
tense cold  was  impossible.  There  were  nearly 
thirty  of  us  packed  together  without  room  to 
turn.  The  Sipahees  and  camp-followers,  half 
frozen,  tried  to  force  their  way,  not  only  into 
the  tent,  but  actually  into  our  beds,  if  such 
resting-places  could  be  so  called — a  poshteen 
(or  pelisse  of  sheep-skin)  half  spread  on  the 
snow,  and  the  other  half  wrapped  over  one. 
Many  poor  wretches  died  round  the  tent  in  the 
night/' 

Nor  had  those  who  survived  the  night  many 
more  days  to  live.  It  is  a  matter  of  history 
that  Dr.  Brydon  ultimately  struggled  into 
Jellalabad,—  the  sole  survivor  of  the  army.  Most 
of  them  were  caught  in  a  trap, — detained  in  a 
narrow  gorge  by  an  abattis  of  prickly  brush- 
wood, and  there  massacred  by  the  Ghilzais. 
Twenty  officers  and  forty-five  European  soldiers 
made  the  last  stand  near  Gundamuk  ;  and  six 
reached  Futtehebad.  Of  the  four  who'  left 


THE  KHYBER  PASS  297 

Futtehebad,  three  were  cut  down  before  Jella- 
labad  was  reached.  The  one  who  attained  that 
goal  was  wounded  and  ready  to  drop.  The  others, 
to  whom  we  owe  the  tale  of  the  sufferings,  were 
a  few  ladies,  and  a  few  officers,  whom  Akbar 
Khan  accepted  as  prisoners,  promising  them 
safe  conduct  and  good  treatment,  before  the 
final  attack. 

Lady  Sale  was  one  of  those  thus  entrusted  to 
the  doubtful  mercies  of  the  enemy : 

"  Overwhelmed  with  domestic  affliction/*  she 
writes,  "  neither  Mrs.  Sturt  nor  I  were  in  a  fit 
state  to  decide  for  ourselves  whether  we  would 
accept  the  Sirdar's  protection  or  not.  .  .  .  All 
I  personally  know  of  the  affair  is  that  I  was 
told  we  were  all  to  go,  and  that  our  horses  were 
ready,  and  we  must  mount  immediately  and 
be  off.  .  .  .  We  were  taken  by  a  very  circuitous 
route  to  the  Khoord  Cabul  forts,  where  we 
found  Mahommed  Akbar  Khan  and  the  hostages. 
.  .  .  Three  rooms  were  cleared  out  for  us, 
having  no  outlets  except  a  small  door  to  each ; 
and,  of  course,  they  were  dark  and  dirty.  .  .  . 
The  dimensions  of  our  room  are,  at  the  utmost, 
fourteen  feet  by  ten.  At  midnight  some  mutton 
bones  and  greasy  rice  were  brought  to  us. 
All  that  Mrs.  Sturt  and  I  possess  are  the  clothes 
on  our  backs  in  which  we  quitted  Cabul." 

From  early  in  January  until  September  was 
well  advanced  the  party  was  destined  to  con- 
tinue in  captivity ;  and  we  have  detailed 


298  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

accounts  of  their  detention,  not  only  from  Lady 
Sale,  but  also  from  Colin  Mackenzie  and  Vincent 
Eyre.  It  is  difficult  to  say  by  what  standard 
the  treatment  meted  out  to  them  ought  to  be 
judged  ;  for  the  resources  of  their  jailers  were 
not  abundant,  and  there  was  Afghan  public 
opinion  to  be  considered.  There  was,  at  any 
rate,  no  breach  of  faith,  such  as  had  been 
feared,  and  Archibald  Forbes  finds  "  kindness 
and  a  certain  rude  chivalry  "  in  Akbar  Khan's 
behaviour.  He  was  a  chief  who  seems  to  have 
had  some  of  the  instincts  of  a  gentleman,  though 
not  all  of  them.  He  allowed  his  prisoners  to 
correspond  with  their  friends  ;  he  allowed  them 
to  borrow  money  from  Cabul  usurers,  and  to 
receive  presents  of  books  and  other  comforts ; 
but  the  accommodation  which  he  pro- 
vided for  them — in  the  early  months  of  their 
captivity,  at  all  events, — was  squalid.  We 
may  borrow  Archibald  Forbes' s  summary  of 
the  conditions  in  which  they  had  to  live : 

"  For  the  whole  party,  there  were  but  five 
rooms,  each  of  which  was  occupied  by  from  five 
to  ten  officers  and  ladies,  the  few  soldiers  and 
non-commissioned  officers,  who  were  mostly 
wounded,  being  quartered  in  sheds  and  cellars. 
Mackenzie  drily  remarks  that  the  hardships 
of  the  common  lot,  and  the  close  intimacy  of 
prison  life,  brought  into  full  relief  good  and  evil 
qualities ;  '  conventional  polish  was  a  good 
deal  rubbed  off  and  replaced  by  a  plainness 


THE  KHYBER  PASS  299 

of  speech  quite  unheard  of  in  good  society/ 
Ladies  and  gentlemen  were  necessitated  to 
occupy  the  same  room  during  the  night,  but 
the  men  '  cleared  out '  early  in  the  morning, 
leaving  the  ladies  to  themselves.  The  dirt  and 
vermin  of  their  habitation  were  abominably 
offensive  to  people  to  whom  scrupulous  cleanli- 
ness was  a  second  nature.  .  .  .  They  had  a 
few  packs  of  playing-cards ;  they  made  for 
themselves  back-gammon  and  draught-boards, 
and  when  in  good  spirits  they  sometimes  played 
hopscotch  and  blindman's  buff  with  the  chil- 
dren of  the  party.  The  Sundays  were  always 
kept  scrupulously,  Lawrence  and  Mackenzie 
conducting  the  service  in  turn/* 

So  the  time  passed.  At  the  end  of  three 
months  or  so,  the  prisoners  were  removed  and 
maintained  in  greater  luxury ;  but  even  then 
there  was  talk  of  carrying  them  away  over  the 
Hindu  Khush  into  a  captivity  which  perhaps 
might  never  end.  There  was  also  quite  a 
chance  that  they  would  be  killed.  As  late  as 
July  31  we  find  Lady  Sale  writing  : 

"  What  will  now  be  our  fate  seems  very 
uncertain  ;  but  I  still  think  he  will  not  cut  our 
throats — not  out  of  love  to  us,  but  because  the 
other  chiefs  would  resent  it ;  as,  having  posses- 
sion of  us,  they  could  at  least  obtain  a  hand- 


some sum  as  our  ransom/3 


As  a   matter  of   fact,   a  message   came  to 


300  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

their  custodian  from  General  Pollock,  offering 
him  20,000  rupees  and  a  life-pension  of  12,000 
rupees  for  their  release.  As  there  was  some 
doubt  about  the  authenticity  or  bona  fides 
of  that  offer,  the  prisoners  themselves  signed 
an  undertaking  to  provide  the  money  from 
their  personal  resources  if  it  were  not  forth- 
coming from  the  Government.  Then  they  were 
set  free,  and  occupied  a  fort,  and  gathered 
provisions  together,  so  that  they  might  stand 
a  short  siege,  if  necessary,  while  waiting  for 
Sir  Robert  Sale's  cavalry.  It  was  at  this 
penultimate  stage  of  the  adventure  that  Lady 
Sale  herself  offered  to  carry  a  gun. 

A  few  weapons  were  brought  in,  and  Captain 
Lawrence  proposed  to  deal  them  out.  "  Now, 
my  lads/'  he  said,  "  here's  Saleh  Mahommed 
Khan  has  brought  arms  and  ammunition  for 
some  of  you  :  who  volunteers  to  take  muskets  ?" 

"  I  blush  to  record,"  writes  Lady  Sale, 
"  that  a  dead  silence  ensued.  Thinking  the 
men  might  be  shamed  into  doing  their  duty, 
I  said  to  Lawrence,  '  You  had  better  give  me 
one,  and  I  will  lead  the  party  '  ;  but  there  was 
still  no  offer  :  and  he  told  our  general  that  it 
was  useless  ;  and  he  had  better  take  them  on. 
It  is  sad  to  think  the  men  were  so  lost  to  all 
right  feeling." 

Fortunately,  however,  the  rescue  party  was 
so  near  at  hand  that  their  reluctance  did  not 
matter.  Sir  Richmond  Shakespeare  rode  in 


THE  KHYBER  PASS  301 

with  600  Kuzzilbash  horsemen ;  and  Sale  was 
not  far  behind  him.  One  may  conclude  the 
chapter  with  Lady  Sale's  account  of  the  happy 
ending  of  her  perilous  adventures  : 

"It  is  impossible  to  express  our  feelings  on 
Sale's  approach.  To  my  daughter  and  myself, 
happiness,  so  long  delayed  as  to  be  almost 
unexpected,  was  actually  painful,  and  accom- 
panied by  a  choking  sensation  which  could 
not  obtain  the  relief  of  tears.  When  we  arrived 
where  the  infantry  were  posted,  they  cheered 
all  the  captives  as  they  passed  them ;  and  the 
men  of  the  I3th  pressed  forward  to  welcome 
us  individually.  Most  of  the  men  had  a  word 
of  hearty  congratulation  to  offer,  each  in  his 
own  style,  on  the  restoration  of  his  colonel's 
wife  and  daughter  :  and  then  my  highly  wrought 
feelings  found  the  desired  relief ;  and  I  could 
scarcely  speak  to  thank  the  soldiers  for  their 
sympathy,  whilst  the  long-deferred  tears  now 
found  their  course." 


CHAPTER   XXVIII 

Woman  as  pacificist — Baroness  von  Suttner  as  controversialist  and 
novelist — The  value  of  Die  Waffen  niedev  \ 

THOUGH    this   book   was   finished   some   time 
before  the  peace  was  broken,  and  is  now  being 
revised  in  the  midst  of  the  war,  there  has  been 
no  deletion  of  any  story  relating  valiant  deeds 
performed  by  women  of  the  Teutonic  races. 
The  question  of  eliminating  such  stories  did 
not  arise,  because  the  author  failed  to  discover 
any  in  his  manuscript ;  and  their  absence  from 
his  manuscript,  not  being  the  result  of  conscious 
prejudice,  presumably  arises  out  of  the  nature 
of  things.     He  might,  of  course,  have  included 
in  his  gallery  the  Empress  Maria  Theresa,  from 
whom  Frederick  the  Great  stole  Silesia,  with 
as  little  ceremony  as  a  pick-pocket  snatching  a 
purse,    and   Queen  Louisa   of   Prussia,    whose 
attitude    during    the    years    of    servitude    to 
Napoleon  was  more  dignified  than  that  of  her 
husband  ;    but  the  scope  of  the  volume  would 
have  had  to  be  somewhat  enlarged  to  admit 
them.     They  were  not  exactly  Warrior  Queens, 
though  the  wars  waged  in  their  times  had  a 
very  direct   effect  upon  their  fortunes ;    and 

when  one  searches  for   such  heroines  as  the 

302 


WOMAN   AS  PACIFICIST  303 

book  was  designed  to  deal  with,  one  finds 
German  annals  singularly  barren. 

And  that  is  as  one  would  have  expected  :  for 
two  reasons.  The  Germans,  like  their  ancestors 
the  Goths  and  their  prototypes  the  Huns, 
have  always  owed  the  most  notable  achieve- 
ments of  their  history  to  the  organised  efforts 
of  the  mass  rather  than  to  the  dash  and 
daring  of  the  individual ;  and  they  have 
always  been  heavy-footed  in  their  endeavours 
to  confine  even  exceptional  women  to  the 
domestic  sphere  of  usefulness.  That  women 
of  unique  ability  and  force  of  character  have 
been  born  in  Germany,  as  well  as  elsewhere,  is, 
of  course,  hardly  to  be  doubted ;  but  fewer 
paths  to  glory  have  been  open  to  them.  In  so 
far  as  they  have  shone  at  all  in  relation  to  war, 
they  have  done  so  by  sounding  the  anti-militarist 
note.  Woman  the  Anti-Militarist  is  the  chief 
contribution  of  the  German  world  to  our 
subject ;  and  for  that  fact  also  there  is  a  reason. 

That  reason  is  not  that  war  has  brought 
more  suffering  to  the  women  of  Germany  than 
to  the  women  of  other  countries.  On  the  whole, 
they  have  suffered,  not  more,  but  less  than  other 
women,  for  their  enemies  have  nearly  always 
been  more  chivalrous  than  their  protectors. 
But  the  German  theory  of  war,  as  expounded 
by  the  teachers  of  the  people,  has,  in  the  main, 
been  different — more  brutal  and  material — 
than  the  theory  of  the  enemies  of  Germany. 
Among  the  Germans  alone  of  the  peoples  sup- 


304  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

posed  to  be  civilised,  has  war  been  proclaimed 
"  an  instrument  of  policy  " — a  means,  that  is 
to  say,  not  of  defending  the  soil  and  the  national 
honour,  but  of  gratifying  unscrupulous  ambi- 
tions at  the  expense  of  the  weak. 

That  was  the  Gospel  according  to  Clausewitz, 
and  that  is  the  Gospel  according  to  Bernhardi. 
To  see  it  practically  applied  in  the  past,  we 
have  to  follow  the  career  of  Bismarck,  who 
deliberately  picked  two  quarrels  and  brought 
about  two  wars  in  order  to  establish  Prussian 
hegemony  in  Germany,  and  then  provoked  a 
third  war  in  order  to  establish  German  hegemony 
in  Europe.  Wars  of  that  sort  may  be  popular 
as  long  as  they  are  successful.  Philosophers, 
and  even  divines,  may  be  found  to  justify  them 
as  necessary  steps  in  the  great  march  of  civilisa- 
tion ;  for  the  prosperous  seldom  pause  to 
examine  their  ideals  too  closely.  But  the  fact 
remains  that  the  ideals  behind  the  wars  which 
are  waged  as  "  instruments  of  policy  "  will  not 
bear  examination ;  and  at  the  hour  of  distress, 
whether  national  or  individual,  the  thoughtful 
are  apt  to  reconsider  them,  and  to  hear  the 
whispering  of  the  still  small  voice. 

To  what  extent  the  women  of  Germany  have 
heard  the  voice  and  attended  to  it  during  the 
present  war  we  shall  not  know  for  certain 
until  the  extinguisher  has  descended  on  the 
Censor,  and  the  Press  is  once  more  free ;  but 
one  already  knows  enough  to  remark  certain 
differences  between  their  attitude  and  that  of 


GERMAN   WOMEN  305 

the  women  of  the  countries  which  Germany 
has  attacked.  In  the  view  of  the  latter,  the 
war,  though  terrible,  is  nevertheless  worth 
while,  because  of  the  great  issues  involved  in  it. 
In  the  view  of  the  latter,  the  war  ceased  to  be 
worth  while  when  it  began  to  be  terrible,  and 
was  never  regarded  as  worth  while  by  those 
who  foresaw  that  it  was  going  to  be  terrible. 
The  writer  is  one  of  those  whom  the  war  caught 
behind  the  enemy's  lines ;  he  speaks,  in  this 
matter,  of  what  he  saw  and  heard. 

On  the  whole,  the  women  of  the  officer  caste 
were  true  to  the  traditions  of  their  caste,  taking 
the  tone  of  the  Spartan  mothers  who  bade 
their  sons  return  "  with  their  shields  or  upon 
them "  ;  and  there  were  also  a  good  many 
women  of  the  commercial  classes  to  whom  the 
war  appeared  in  the  light  of  a  good  stroke  of 
business.  They  spoke  of  the  imminent 
expansion  of  Germany  with  the  same  airy 
satisfaction  with  which  they  might  have  an- 
nounced their  intention  of  moving  into  larger 
houses  because  their  husbands  had  been  unex- 
pectedly successful  in  their  speculations.  But 
there  were  also  women  who,  from  the  very  first, 
saw  the  horrors  of  war,  and  saw  practically 
nothing  else.  According  to  them,  Germany 
was  engaged  in  a  vulgar,  unprofitable,  and 
bloody  quarrel,  provoked  by  the  turbulent 
Crown  Prince,  a  person  whose  private  char- 
acter was  that  of  an  unconscionable  reprobate. 
The  writer  heard  a  German  mother  unbosom 
20 


306  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

herself  to  that  effect  in  the  Grand  Duchy  of 
Luxemburg. 

"  I  can  say  here/'  she  said,  "  what  I  should 
not  dare  to  say  in  Germany.  It  is  a  scandal 
and  a  shame  that  German  mothers  should  be 
called  upon  to  sacrifice  their  sons  to  the  miser- 
able ambitions  of  that  abandoned  wretch/' 

Such  speeches  were  doubtless  rare  in  those 
days ;  but  they  were  to  be  heard  even  before 
the  disastrous  check  on  the  Marne,  and  they 
have,  since  then,  become  much  louder  and 
more  frequent.  Whereas  the  women  of  France 
have  suffered  in  dignified  silence,  the  women  of 
Germany  have  suffered  noisily,  and  with  obstre- 
perous protests ;  and  the  explanation  of  the 
difference  in  their  attitude  is  obvious.  In  the 
one  case  the  cause  is  perceived  to  be  worth  the 
sacrifice,  and,  in  the  other  case,  it  is  felt  not 
to  be  worth  it.  Germany  went  to  war,  not  to 
defend  the  national  honour,  which  nobody  was 
attacking,  but  in  order  to  filch  territory  under 
the  name  of  guarantees  and  steal  money  on 
pretence  of  requiring  "  compensations/'  The 
consequence  was  that,  when  the  material  ad- 
vantages were  seen  not  to  be  forthcoming, 
the  martial  enthusiasm  of  the  women  evapo- 
rated in  indignation  at  the  enhanced  price  of 
butter. 

That,  at  all  events,  is  a  part  of  the  picture  : 
the  side  of  it  which  shows  us  the  instinctive 


GERMAN   WOMEN  307 

pacificism  of  the  unreflecting.  There  is  also 
a  Higher  Pacificism  in  the  country  :  a  pacificism 
which  looks  for  a  philosophical  justification 
of  its  principles,  and  sees  nothing  in  war,  as 
war  is  understood  in  Germany,  which  warrants 
the  bloodshed  and  the  privations.  Rosa 
Luxemburg,  the  Social  Democrat,  took  that 
line  at  the  beginning  of  the  war,  and  was 
promptly  locked  up  for  doing  so  ;  but,  though 
her  voice  was  thereby  silenced,  her  ideas  were 
not  extinguished.  The  note  which  she  struck 
recurred  in  a  controversy  conducted,  many 
months  afterwards,  in  the  columns  of  the 
Berliner  Tageblatt  between  Fraulein  Dr.  Kate 
Schirmacher,  and  Frau  Ellen  Passche. 

The  former  lady  is  the  chief  of  the  German 
champions  of  woman's  claim  to  the  vote.  She 
tries  to  take  a  man's  view  of  things,  and  has 
proposed  that  all  the  able-bodied  women  of 
Germany  should  be  enrolled  in  the  Landwehr. 
She  is  not  only  in  favour  of  the  war,  but  has 
committed  herself  to  the  opinion  that  the  longer 
the  war  lasts  the  better  : 

"  We  Germans,"  she  writes,  "  needed  to 
break  with  a  number  of  bad  habits  which  we 
had  fallen  into  through  our  comfort  and  our 
enjoyment  of  life.  A  long  war  will  accomplish 
that  result  for  us  more  thoroughly  than  a  short 
one.  ...  It  is  a  lasting  gain  for  the  unity  of 
our  people  that  south  and  east  and  west  and 
north  should  have  to  join  in  defending  that 


3o8  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

unity  with  their  blood.     Only  a  long  war  can 
thus  educate  and  intensify  our  sentiments/' 

It  is  a  poor  idea,  though  Bernhardi  would 
doubtless  agree  with  it :  that  killing  is  a  part 
of  education.  But  it  is  not  wide-spread  among 
the  women  of  Germany  at  the  present  hour. 
Frau  Ellen  Passche  most  emphatically  would 
not  have  it  so. 

"  How  is  it  possible/'  she  asks,  "  that  a  woman 
can  have  so  hard  a  heart  ?  How  is  it  possible 
that  a  woman  can  tell  us  that  we  are  living 
so  comfortably  that  only  a  prolongation  of  the 
war  can  save  us  ? 

"  Can  it  be,"  she  continues,  "that  Fraulein 
Dr.  Kate  Schirmacher  has  lost  in  the  war  no 
relative,  no  lover,  no  friend  for  whom  she 
weeps  ?  If  so,  let  her  thank  God ;  but  let 
her  also  turn  her  eyes  to  the  future  : 

"  You  wives  who  have  given  your  dearest  ; 
you  mothers  who  have  lost  your  only  sons,  or 
all  your  sons ;  you  sisters  who  will  never  again 
see  a  loyal  brother  standing  by  your  sides, 
think  of  the  future  !  Are  we  young  women  who 
have  bright  young  children  playing  around  us 
to  sacrifice  them  too  in  twenty  years'  time  ? 
It  must  not  be.  ...  Or  are  women  to  bear 
children  merely  as  food  for  powder  ?  That  also 
is  hard  to  admit.  German  women  must  now 
bear  many  children  to  fill  up  the  gaps  that 
have  been  made ;  but  not  for  war — no,  for  an 
eternal  and  blessed  peace.  And  so  I  say— No 


GERMAN   WOMEN  309 

half-heartedness  !  Think  of  all  that  you  may 
have  to  lose  in  twenty  years'  time  .  .  .  and 
you  who  have  nothing  more  to  lose  because  the 
war  has  taken  everything  from  you,  think  of 
us,  and  help  us  younger  women,  that  we  may 
be  spared  such  tears  and  lamentations  in  the 
years  to  come." 

Of  a  truth  it  was  a  very  womanly  woman 
who  wrote  thus  ;  but  no  one  will  draw  the 
foolish  conclusion  that,  because  English,  French, 
Belgian,  and  Russian  women  are  not  writing 
thus,  we  must  therefore  class  them  as  less 
womanly.  War,  for  them,  is  an  odious  ne- 
cessity, thrust  upon  them  as  the  only  means 
whereby  oppression  can  be  resisted  ;  and,  in 
the  atmosphere  which  such  a  war  engenders, 
there  is  no  room  for  pacificism — no  room  for 
any  feeling  except  the  stern  resolution  to 
endure  until  the  end.  For  the  Germans,  on 
the  other  hand,  war  is,  as  has  just  been  said, 
an  instrument  of  policy,  a  trick  in  the  great 
game  of  grab.  Out  of  war  so  conceived  there 
arises  no  sentiment  strong  enough  to  shame  the 
pacificists  to  silence.  Such  war,  rather,  creates 
the  atmosphere  in  which  pacificism  flourishes 
and  commands  sympathy  ;  and  that  is  why  it 
seems  the  most  natural  thing  in  the  world  that . 
the  most  famous  of  the  women  pacificists- 
Baroness  von  Suttner,  the  author  of  Die  Waff  en 
nieder  ! — should  have  been  an  Austrian. 

Die  Waff  en  nieder  I  is,  of  course,  a  novel  with 


3io  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

a  purpose.  It  is  a  commonplace  of  criticism 
to  pronounce  that  novels  with  purposes  are 
generally  bad,  and  the  anti-militarist  purpose 
is,  no  doubt,  here  obtruded  with  a  persistence 
which  all  the  canons  of  criticism  condemn  ;  but 
it  is  precisely  this  obtrusion  of  purpose  which 
gives  the  book  its  reality,  and  its  aesthetic,  as 
well  as  its  moral,  significance.  The  trick  which 
produces  these  effects  may  or  may  not  have 
been  deliberately  adopted  :  a  critic,  at  all  events, 
can  have  no  difficulty  in  laying  his  finger  on 
the  trick,  and  showing  how  what,  in  another 
novel,  might  have  been  flaws,  are  here  con- 
tributory to  the  prevailing  impression  of  truth. 
What  the  novel  seems  to  lack,  if  judged  from 
the  conventional  standpoint,  is  characterisation. 
The  narrator  never  seems  to  be  inside  her 
characters,  or  even  to  have  observed  them 
more  than  superficially :  the  temptation  is 
therefore  strong  to  scoff  at  them  as  "  wooden." 
But  that  temptation  is  a  pitfall  into  which  one 
must  not  stumble.  Die  Waff  en  nieder  !  is  not 
presented  to  us  as  a  study  either  of  manners 
or  of  psychology.  It  is  presented  as  the 
autobiographical  lamentation  of  a  woman- 
beautiful,  nobly  born,  well-educated,  but  not 
otherwise  exceptionally  endowed — the  daughter, 
sister,  and  wife  of  Austrian  officers — whom  the 
circumstances  of  her  life  brought  into  tragic 
contact  with  the  principal  continental  wars 
of  her  time :  the  Italian  War  of  1859  »  the 
Danish  War  of  1864  ;  the  Austro-Prussian  War 


BERTHA  VON  SUTTNER          311 

of  1866  ;  and,  finally,  the  Franco-German  War 
of  1870-71. 

She  lives,  as  it  were,  in  the  constant  shadow 
of  the  sword.  All  the  talk  in  the  circles  in 
which  she  moves  is  of  the  glory  of  war,  and  of 
the  superiority  of  the  career  of  arms  to  the 
debased  pursuits  of  the  civilians.  But  the 
glory,  as  so  often  happens  in  Austrian  wars,  is 
only  forthcoming  in  a  scanty  measure ;  and 
every  clash  of  arms  involves  some  tragedy  for 
herself  and  those  dear  to  her.  So,  under  the 
stress  of  successive  calamities,  she  thinks 
things  out :  observes  how  much  suffering  is 
invited  for  the  attainment  of  quite  trivial  ends  ; 
how  irrational  is  the  invocation  of  the  God 
of  Battles  by  each  of  two  contending  armies ; 
how  fatal  is  the  interest  in  war  to  the  progress 
of  art,  science,  and  industry.  She  also  sees 
the  horrors  at  close  quarters,  and  relates  what 
she  has  seen. 

Characterisation,  it  is  quite  obvious,  would 
have  been  out  of  place  in  such  a  novel  as  that. 
A  woman  writing  under  the  obsession  of  such 
catastrophes  could  not  be  expected  to  describe 
her  husband,  her  lover,  and  the  members  of 
her  family  with  the  minute  particularity  of 
Dickens,  or  to  analyse  their  motives  with  the 
cold-blooded  cunning  of  Flaubert.  She  would 
naturally  take  them  for  granted,,  and  expect 
those  to  whom  she  told  her  story  to  take  them 
for  granted  too ;  any  more  careful  method  of 
relation  would  have  been  unreal  and  uncon- 


312  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

vincing.  Enough  that  she  loved,  or  did  not 
love ;  sympathised,  or  did  not  sympathise. 
Any  minuter  personal  detail  would  be  lost  in 
the  magnitude  of  the  tragedy  :  the  only  details 
dwelt  upon  would  be  those  which  the  tragedy 
of  war  brought  home  to  her — a  tragedy  which 
would  surely  be  avoided  if  those  responsible  for 
it  realised  all  that  it  meant. 

Just  because  she  does  not  make  a  plain 
woman  write  like  a  woman  of  letters,  or  a 
woman  who  has  suffered  write  like  a  detached 
observer,  always  on  the  look  out  for  flashes  of 
humour  or  soul-revealing  traits,  the  Baroness 
von  Suttner  has  produced  a  book  which 
rings  true  as  a  whole,  whatever  hypercriticism 
may  find  wanting  on  this  page  or  that.  She 
omits  the  detail  which  the  brain  would  have 
failed  to  remark  because  the  heart  was  full ; 
but  she  does  not  shrink  from  detail,  though 
it  be  gruesome,  when  it  is  pertinent  to  her 
purpose.  The  description  of  the  visit  paid  to 
Sadowa  after  the  great  battle  is  one  of  the 
most  graphic  and  poignant  scenes  in  modern 
literature.  It  is  on  that,  not  on  her  formal 
contributions  to  controversy,  that  the  Baroness 
von  Suttner 's  fame  as  an  apostle  of  peace  must 
rest ;  and  it  will  rest  upon  it  quite  securely. 


CHAPTER  XXIX 

Florence  Nightingale — How  she  prepared  herself  for  her  life's  work, 
and  how  she  performed  it — Her  courage — Her  thoroughness — 
Her  modesty — Her  supreme  title  to  immortal  fame. 

WE  come,  in  conclusion,  to  the  one  name  which 
is  worthy  to  be  set  beside  that  of  Jeanne  d'Arc 
—equally  glorious,  though  for  other  reasons : 
the  name  of  Florence  Nightingale.  She  is 
better  remembered,  and  worthier  to  be  re- 
membered, than  any  of  the  generals  in  any  of 
the  allied  armies,  as  the  men  of  war  them- 
selves agreed  at  a  certain  dinner  of  Crimean 
veterans.  It  was  agreed  that  each  guest  at 
the  banquet  should  write  on  a  slip  of  paper 
the  name  of  the  person  whose  services  during 
the  campaign  were  likely  most  to  impress 
posterity  ;  and  when  the  papers  were  examined, 
the  name  of  Florence  Nightingale  was  found 
inscribed  on  every  one  of  them.  The  only  other 
great  reputation  made  by  the  war  was  that  of 
Todleben  ;  and  Florence  Nightingale's  reputa- 
tion stands  the  higher  of  the  two. 

A  good  many  enthusiasts  probably  think  of 
her  as  a  happy  accident :  a  woman  of  genius 
who  achieved  wonders  through  inspiration, 
willing  self-sacrifice,  and  intuitive  womanly 

313 


314  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

sympathy.  Genius,  assuredly,  is  a  word  which 
one  need  not  be  afraid  of  using  when  one  speaks 
of  her  ;  but  even  more  remarkable  than  her 
genius  is  the  thoroughness  with  which  she 
prepared  herself  for  her  life's  work,  for  all  the 
world  as  though  she  foresaw  the  call,  and  was 
resolved  to  be  ready  to  answer  it.  When  the 
war  broke  out,  the  War  Office  was  not  ready, 
and  the  soldiers  were  not  ready,  but  had  to 
pick  up  their  business  as  they  went  along. 
Florence  Nightingale  alone  impresses  one  as 
knowing  exactly  what  to  do  and  how  to  do  it 
— a  professional  among  amateurs. 

There  was  no  need  for  her  to  work  ;  and  one 
can  hardly  speak  of  her  as  belonging  to  a 
profession,  for  she  practically  created  the  pro- 
fession which  she  adorned.  She  grew  up  in  a 
class  of  society  in  which  the  majority  of  women 
go  through  life  avoiding  work  as  carefully  as 
a  cat  avoids  puddles.  The  general  view  of  her 
period  was  that  that  was  what  a  woman's 
attitude  to  work  ought  to  be.  Work,  it  was 
held,  was  for  man,  and  for  women  of  the  lower 
orders.  A  lady  who  worked  sank  in  the  social 
scale  of  values — much  as  a  baronet  would  do 
if  he  opened  a  small  shop,  or  practised  a 
manual  trade.  But  Florence  Nightingale  did 
not  care  about  that.  She  had  a  strong  will, 
and  she  was  socially  sure  of  herself.  It  did 
not  matter  that  precedents  were  lacking — she 
could  afford  to  make  one. 

Illnesses  in  her  own  family  which  she  was 


FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE        315 

called  upon  to  nurse  gave  her  her  first 
interest  in  nursing.  She  thus  realised  that 
nursing  was  a  serious  business,  calling  for 
experience  and  exact  knowledge  as  well  as 
sympathy  with  suffering,  and  the  desire  to 
relieve  it.  She  was  moved  to  study  the  subject ; 
and  her  endeavour  to  study  it  in  the  Lon- 
don, Edinburgh,  and  Dublin  hospitals  made 
it  clear  to  her  that  nursing  was,  in  England, 
a  neglected,  and  almost  a  non-existent  art : 
that  the  only  nurses  worthy  of  the  name  were 
the  Roman  Catholic  Sisters  of  Charity.  Then 
she  heard  of  Pastor  Fliedner  of  Kaiserswerth, 
and  his  Order  of  Deaconesses.  She  went  to 
Kaiserswerth,  studied  under  Pastor  Fliedner, 
and  learnt  all  that  he  could  teach  her.  She 
also  visited  the  Sisters  of  St.  Vincent  de  Paul 
in  Paris ;  and,  for  some  time  after  her  return 
to  England,  she  took  charge  of  the  Harley 
Street  Home  for  Sick  Governesses.  That  is 
how  it  was  that  she  was  really  ready  when  her 
hour  came — an  hour  announced  by  the  appeal 
in  one  of  Sir  William  Howard  Russell's  letters 
to  the  Times  : 

"  Are  there  no  devoted  women  among  us, 
able  and  willing  to  go  forth  to  minister  to  the 
sick  and  wounded  soldiers  of  the  East  in  the 
hospitals  at  Scutari  ?  Are  none  of  the  daughters 
of  England,  at  this  extreme  hour  of  need,  ready 
for  such  a  work  of  mercy  ?  .  .  .  France  has 
sent  forth  her  Sisters  of  Mercy  unsparingly, 


316  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

and  they  are  even  now  by  the  bedsides  of  the 
wounded  and  the  dying,  giving  what  woman's 
hand  alone  can  give  of  comfort  and  relief.  .  .  . 
Must  we  fall  so  far  below  the  French  in  self- 
sacrifice  and  devotedness,  in  a  work  which 
Christ  so  signally  blesses  as  done  unto  Him- 
self ?  " 

Of  course,  the  appeal  did  not  fall  upon  deaf 
ears :  the  trouble  was  that  it  fell  mainly  upon 
the  ears  of  the  incompetent.  The  War  Office 
was  inundated  with  offers  of  service — mostly 
from  unsuitable  persons.  It  was  almost  im- 
possible to  pick  out  the  few  who  were  suitable 
from  so  vast  a  multitude  ;  and  the  authorities 
were  adverse  to  the  experiment,  fearing  that 
the  confusion  of  the  hospitals  would  be  worse 
confounded  by  what  a  later  Commander-in- 
Chief  scornfully  styled  "the  plague  of  women.' ' 
A  statement  to  that  effect  was  issued  from  the 
War  Office : 

"  Many  ladies/'  declared  Sidney  Herbert, 
"  whose  generous  enthusiasm  prompts  them 
to  offer  services  as  nurses  are  little  aware  of 
the  hardships  they  would  have  to  encounter, 
and  the  horrors  they  would  have  to  witness. 
Were  all  accepted  who  offer,  I  fear  we  should 
have,  not  only  many  indifferent  nurses,  but 
many  hysterical  patients." 

But  that  was  not  Sidney  Herbert's  last  word. 
If  he  feared  the  plague  of  women,  he  also  knew 
Florence  Nightingale — personally  as  well  as 


FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE        317 

by  reputation.  He  was  satisfied  that  she  was 
the  one  woman  in  England  who  could,  if  she 
would,  organise  and  execute,  without  delay, 
such  a  reform  of  hospital  administration  as 
circumstances  urgently  called  for.  He  sat  down 
and  wrote  to  her,  telling  her  of  his  difficulties : 

"  I  receive  numbers  of  offers  from  ladies  to 
go  out,  but  they  are  ladies  who  have  no  con- 
ception of  what  a  hospital  is,  nor  of  the  nature 
of  its  duties ;  and  they  would,  when  the  time 
came,  either  recoil  from  the  work  or  be  entirely 
useless,  and  consequently,  what  is  worse,  entirely 
in  the  way.  .  .  . 

"  There  is  but  one  person  in  England  that 
I  know  of  who  would  be  capable  of  organising 
and  superintending  such  a  scheme,  and  have 
been  several  times  on  the  point  of  asking  you 
hypothetically  if,  supposing  the  attempt  were 
made,  you  would  undertake  to  direct  it.  ... 

"  A  number  of  sentimental  enthusiastic  ladies 
turned  loose  in  the  hospital  at  Scutari  would 
probably,  after  a  few  days,  be  mises  d  la  porte  by 
those  whose  business  they  would  interrupt,  and 
whose  authority  they  would  dispute.  My  ques- 
tion simply  is,  Would  you  listen  to  the  request 
to  go  out  and  supervise  the  whole  thing  ?  .  .  . 

"  I  must  not  conceal  from  you  that  upon  your 
decision  will  depend  the  ultimate  success  ^  or 
failure  of  the  plan.  Your  own  personal  qualities, 
your  knowledge,  and  your  power  of  administra- 
tion, and,  among  greater  things,  your  rank 


318  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

and  position  in  society,  give  you  advantages 
in  such  a  work  which  no  other  person 
possesses.  .  .  . 

"  Shall  I  come  to  you  between  three  and 
five  ?  Will  you  let  me  have  a  line  at  the  War 
Office,  to  let  me  know  ?  " 

It  was  not  only  a  difficult  task  which  Sidney 
Herbert  thus  besought  Florence  Nightingale 
to  undertake,  but  also  a  dangerous  one.  The 
hospitals  were  hardly  less  perilous  places  than 
the  trenches ;  fever  and  cholera  were  to  work 
hardly  less  havoc  than  shot  and  shell ;  those 
who  returned  alive  from  the  errand  of  mercy 
were  almost  certain  to  return  in  broken  health. 
Both  Sidney  Herbert  and  Florence  Nightingale 
knew  all  about  that ;  but  her  acceptance  of 
the  responsible  charge  offered  to  her  was  never 
in  doubt.  While  he  was  writing  to  ask  for  her 
help,  she  herself  was  writing  to  volunteer  it  : 
the  two  letters  crossed  in  the  post.  And,  as 
promptitude  was  of  the  essence  of  the  com- 
mission, she  had  recruited  her  assistants  and 
started  within  a  week  of  receiving  her  appoint- 
ment :  cheered  across  France  by  that  whole- 
hearted enthusiasm  of  which  France  has  the 
secret ;  sped  on  her  way  by  hotel-keepers  who 
would  present  no  bills,  waiters  who  would  take 
no  tips,  and  porters  and  fisherwomen  who 
scorned  to  be  paid  for  carrying  the  baggage  of 
thirty-nine  persons  from  the  steamer  to  the 
train. 


FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE         319 

A  book  would  be  needed  to  tell  the  story  of 
the  expedition  ;  a  chapter  at  the  end  of  a  book 
cannot  possibly  tell  it.  For  detail  and  anecdote 
the  reader  must  go  to  Kinglake,  or  to  the 
Life  of  Florence  Nightingale,  by  Miss  Sarah 
Tooley.  What  strikes  one  most  emphatically 
in  the  narrative  is  not  the  courage  and  the 
devotion — for  many  women,  happily,  are 
courageous  and  devoted — but  the  amazing 
competence  displayed  in  new  and  perplexing 
conditions.  Florence  Nightingale  had  learnt 
all  that  she  could  about  nursing ;  but  no  such 
experience  as  this  had  ever  come  in  her  way. 
The  mark  of  genius  lay  in  this :  that  she  so 
evidently  knew  a  great  deal  more  than  she  had 
been  taught.  She  was  called  upon,  not  merely 
to  invent  the  art  of  hospital  management,  but 
to  improvise  it ;  and  she  succeeded. 

That  is  the  reason  why,  though  many  women 
gave  their  services,  and  some  gave  their  lives, 
to  the  same  task,  her  name  alone  became 
supremely  famous.  The  common  impression 
of  her,  consecrated  by  poems  and  pictures,  is 
of  a  ministering  angel,  moving  silently  about 
by  night,  and  smoothing  pillows  : 

So  in  that  house  of  misery 
A  lady  with  a  lamp  I  see 

Pass  through  the  glimmering  gloom, 

And  flit  from  room  to  room. 

And  slowly,  as  in  a  dream  of  bliss, 
The  speechless  sufferer  turns  to  kiss 

Her  shadow  as  it  falls 

Upon  the  darkening  walls. 


320  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

That  is  Longfellow's  tribute  from  across  the 
Atlantic  ;  but  it  tells  only  a  part  of  the  truth, 
and  does  Florence  Nightingale  something  less 
than  justice.  Sympathy,  indeed,  she  showed 
in  abundance,  never  sparing  herself  in  response 
to  any  call ;  but  the  case  was  one  in  which 
sympathy  without  sense,  and,  above  all,  with- 
out authority,  would  have  availed  very  little. 
Even  when  the  presence  of  women  has  to  be 
denounced  as  "  a  plague/'  there  is  generally 
something  which  can  be  called  sympathy  in 
the  midst  of  them.  They  sympathise  more 
with  officers  than  with  privates ;  but  still, 
they  sympathise.  Florence  Nightingale's 
strength  lay  in  the  fact  that,  born  to  command, 
she  had  trained  herself  to  organise.  One  can 
imagine  circumstances  in  which  the  complaint 
would  have  been  heard  that  she  was  too  fond 
of  managing,  interfering,  and  setting  people 
to  rights.  Even  at  Scutari  that  complaint 
was  occasionally  heard,  though  the  louder 
voice  of  enthusiasm  drowned  it. 

At  Scutari,  however,  there  was  needed,  above 
all  things,  a  woman  who  not  only  liked  setting 
people  to  rights,  but  was  capable  of  doing  so, 
was  not  afraid  of  cutting  red  tape  instead  of 
waiting  for  it  to  be  untied,  and  shouldering 
the  responsibility  for  an  opportune  disobedi- 
ence of  orders.  Florence  Nightingale,  it  seems 
quite  clear,  assumed  even  more  authority  than 
the  War  Office  gave  her.  She  assumed  it  in 
virtue  of  her  knowledge,  and  was  able  to  exercise 


FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE  321 

it  through  her  exceptional  strength  of  character. 
It  was  not  only  to  nurses  and  hospital  orderlies 
that  she  gave  instructions  ;  surgeons  and  com- 
missariat officers  also  found  that  they  had  to 
obey  her.  Medical  stores  had  to  be  opened 
when  she  wanted  them,  whatever  the  regulations 
said  to  the  contrary.  Within  her  sphere,  if  not 
also  a  little  outside  it,  the  commands  of  the 
Lady-in-Chief  came  to  be  accepted  as  unques- 
tioningly  as  those  of  the  Commander-in-Chief . 

She  was  as  fearless,  too,  in  the  field  as  in 
the  wards.  When  she  visited  the  Crimea,  she 
went  out  to  look  at  the  trenches — to  the  great 
alarm  of  a  sentry,  who  tried  to  stop  her.  "  My 
dear  young  man,"  she  said  to  him  reassuringly, 
"  more  dead  and  wounded  have  passed  through 
my  hands  than  I  hope  you  will  ever  see  in  the 
battle-field  during  the  whole  of  your  military 
career  ;  believe  me,  I  have  no  fear  of  death." 
And  then  M.  Soyer,  the  cook  who  was  with  her, 
persuaded  her  to  sit,  for  a  moment,  on  a  gun 
carriage,  and  introduced  her  to  the  company  : 

"  Gentlemen,  behold  this  amiable  lady  sitting 
fearlessly  upon  that  terrible  instrument  of 
war  !  Behold  the  heroic  daughter  of  England 
—the  soldier's  friend  !  "  All  present  shouted 
"  Bravo  I  Hurrah  !  hurrah  !  Long  live  the 
daughter  of  England  !  >: 

The  cheers  were  heard   even  in  Sebastopol. 
It  is  the  only  incident  in  Florence  Nightingale's 
career  in  which  there  is  a  suggestion  of  reclame  ; 
21 


322  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

and  the  reclame  assuredly  was  not  of  her  seeking. 
Indeed,  she  positively  shrank  from  advertise- 
ment, declining  the  Government's  offer  of  a 
passage  home  on  a  man-of-war,  but  returning 
incognito  through  France  as  "  Miss  Smith. " 
One  cannot  do  better  than  quote  Punch's  tribute 
to  her  self-effacing  modesty  : 

Then  leave  her  to  the  quiet  she  has  chosen ;    she  demands 
No  greeting  from  our  brazen  throats  and  vulgar,  clapping  hands. 
Leave  her  to  the  still  comfort  the  saints  known  that  have  striven. 
What  are  our  earthly  honours  ?     Her  honours  are  in  heaven. 

On  earth  her  name  is  the  greatest  among  the 
names  of  the  women  whom  war  has  brought  into 
prominence.  She  was  the  last  woman  to  whom 
it  would  have  occurred  to  try  to  transcend  the 
limitations  of  her  sex.  Her  aim,  while  keeping 
within  those  limitations,  was  to  attain  to 
absolute  efficiency  herself,  and  bring  others  as 
near  as  might  be  to  her  high  standard.  She 
was  as  efficient  in  her  sphere  as  Todleben  in 
his — vastly  more  efficient  than  Lord  Raglan, 
or  Saint-Arnaud,  or  Pelissier,  or  Canrobert. 
Her  name  and  that  of  Jeanne  d'Arc  are  the 
only  two  names  in  the  whole  history  of  woman's 
achievements  in  war  which  are  quite  secure  of 
immortality. 


EPILOGUE 

IT  has  already  been  explained  that  this  book 
was  not  only  planned,  but  written,  at  a  time 
when  England  was  at  peace  with  all  the  world, 
and  few  Englishmen  expected  to  see  the  peace 
disturbed.  The  accidents  which  prevented  its 
appearance  in  times  of  peace  had  nothing  to  do 
with  the  political  situation.  Then,  suddenly, 
the  storm-cloud  burst,  making  a  further  post- 
ponement of  publication  advisable,  suggesting 
a  certain  amount  of  revision,  and  requiring  that 
the  work  should  be,  as  the  publisher  said, 
'  brought  up  to  date." 

Theoretically,  the  author  agreed  with  the 
proposal ;  practically,  he  found  himself  em- 
barrassed by  circumstances  not  under  his 
control.  At  the  beginning  of  the  war  he 
had  been  caught,  as  a  tourist,  in  the  Grand 
Duchy  of  Luxemburg ;  and  he  had  been 
detained,  for  more  than  a  year,  first  in  a  small 
village  in  that  neutral  country,  and  then  in  an 
internment  camp  in  Germany.  The  conditions 
of  his  detention  were  more  favourable  to 
philosophical  speculation  than  to  the  detailed 
study  of  current  events.  His  opportunities  of 
corresponding  with  England  were  severely 

323 


324  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

limited.  The  only  newspapers  which  he  was 
able  to  read  were  German  newspapers  ;  and 
there  was  a  time  when  even  these  were  with- 
held from  prisoners  of  war.  Consequently  he 
returned  to  England  grossly  ignorant  of  many 
of  the  things  which  the  historian  of  the  war — 
especially  of  this  particular  aspect  of  the  war- 
ought  to  know,  and  almost  afraid  to  write  on 
the  subject  lest,  in  his  ignorance,  he  should  do 
injustice  by  omitting  to  mention  some  dis- 
tinguished achievement  or  some  famous  name. 
At  all  events,  things  being  as  they  are,  it  seems 
proper  for  him  to  present  this  explanation  be- 
fore proceeding. 

One  generalisation,  in  any  case,  seems  safe. 
Since  the  civilised  peoples  of  the  world  were 
last  at  war,  the  education  of  women  has  made 
great  strides,  and  their  position  has  vastly  im- 
proved ;  and  this  social  transformation,  effected 
in  time  of  peace,  has  produced  its  results  in 
time  of  war.  More  has  been  demanded  from 
women  in  this  war  than  in  any  previous  one  ; 
they  have  volunteered  to  render  more  multi- 
farious services  ;  and  they  have  rendered  those 
services  more  efficiently.  There  has  been  no 
repetition  of  Sidney  Herbert's  experience  in  the 
Crimean  War,  when  the  search  for  an  efficient 
woman  appears  to  have  been  only  a  little  less 
difficult  than  the  search  of  Diogenes  for  an 
honest  man.  If  efficient  women  have  not  been 
quite  as  numerous  as  devoted  women — for 
efficiency  is  always  rarer  than  devotion — they 


EPILOGUE  325 

have,  at  all  events,  been  discovered  in  astonish- 
ing abundance  ;  and  that  not  in  one  field  of 
labour  only,  but  in  many. 

Nursing,  of  course,  has  always  been  regarded 
as  "  woman's  sphere  "  ;  and,  for  a  long  time, 
it  was  regarded  as  the  only  sphere  connected 
with  war  in  which  she  was  qualified  to  shine. 
She  might  go  to  the  hospitals  and  nurse,  or  she 
might  stay  at  home  and  make  the  bandages  : 
that  was  the  alternative  of  old ;  the  adoption 
of  any  third  course  was  abnormal,  and  was 
esteemed  unfeminine.  If  any  conceptions  of 
that  kind,  however,  were  still  lingering  when 
this  war  began,  experience  has  long  since  de- 
stroyed them.  Women  have  lately  demonstrated 
that  they  can  be  useful  in  war  in  many  other 
ways  besides  the  mitigation  of  the  horrors  ; 
that  they  can  organise  as  well  as  work,  and  that 
they  are  eminently  capable  of  many  kinds  of 
work  in  many  spheres  which  man  has  hitherto 
thought  of  as  exclusively  his  own. 

The  phenomenon  has  not  been  peculiar  to 
any  one  of  the  countries  engaged  in  the  war, 
but  has  been  common  to  them  all.  The  Ger- 
mans, no  less  than  ourselves,  have,  as  they  would 
say,  "  mobilised  "  their  women,  whether  they 
belonged  to  the  idle  or  to  the  industrial  classes, 
though  they  have  made  rather  less  use  than  we 
have  of  their  intelligence,  and  rather  more  use 
of  their  muscles.  The  writer  has  not  only  seen 
crowds  of  German  nurses  in  neat  uniforms 
awaiting  the  arrival  of  the  wounded  at  the 


326  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

railway  stations  ;  he  has  also  seen  women  work- 
ing as  plate-layers  on  the  railway  at  Spandau, 
and  cleaning  the  streets  and  driving  the  tram- 
cars  in  Berlin.  On  more  than  one  occasion  a 
woman  drove  a  tram,  by  inadvertence,  into  the 
River  Spree,  and  caused  considerable  loss  of 
life. 

The  inference  could,  no  doubt,  reasonably  be 
drawn  that  woman's  war  work  has  been  less 
efficient  in  Germany  than  here ;  and  there  are 
also  incidents  which  indicate  that  it  has  been 
more  capricious.  A  case  of  the  kind  occurred 
at  Diisseldorf,  when  a  military  doctor,  at  a 
public  meeting,  called  for  volunteers  to  help  in 
the  hospitals.  The  volunteers  were  numerous 
enough ;  but  lady  after  lady  hedged  her  offer 
with  a  qualification,  saying  that  she  was  will- 
ing to  be  a  nurse  on  condition  that  she  should 
only  be  required  to  nurse  officers.  The  doctor 
naturally  turned  them  out  of  the  hall  with 
winged  words ;  but  one  is  glad  to  feel  that  no 
such  incident  would  have  been  possible  in  any 
of  the  Allied  Countries.  Its  occurrence,  at  any 
rate,  places  one  in  closer  sympathy  than  ever 
with  those  ladies  of  Luxemburg,  who,  when  the 
Germans  asked  them  to  volunteer  their  services 
for  Red  Cross  work,  stipulated  that  they  should 
only  be  asked  to  render  assistance  to  French, 
English,  and  Belgian  prisoners,  and  that  the 
German  wounded  should  continue  to  be  attended 
by  German  nurses. 

These  remarks,  however,  are  of  the  nature  of 


EPILOGUE  327 

a  digression.  Space  is  limited,  and  is  due  to 
the  record  of  individual  achievements  :  due,  in 
the  first  instance,  to  the  women  who  have 
actually  borne  arms  and  served  in  the  ranks 
during  the  present  war.  There  have  been  such 
women  in  both  the  Russian  and  the  Austro- 
Hungarian  armies — no  fewer  than  twenty  of 
them  in  the  Voluntary  Ukraine  Legion  alone  ; 
and  the  Evening  Standard  lately  furnished  par- 
ticulars of  the  exploits  of  a  Miss  Helen  Ruz  of 
that  corps — the  daughter  of  a  high  railway  official 
at  Czernowitz,  and  a  student,  when  the  war 
broke  out,  at  the  Vienna  Commercial  Academy. 
This  is  what  the  Evening  Standard  gathered 
about  her  from  a  Hungarian  correspondent  : 

"  The  Legion  went  to  the  front,  and  after 
two  weeks  Miss  Ruz  was  appointed  corporal. 
She  went  through  the  whole  Galician  campaign, 
in  the  worst  places  of  the  Carpathian  Moun- 
tains, lost  her  father,  two  brothers,  and  her 
fiance,  gained  two  medals,  was  transferred  to 
the  Uhlans,  had  two  ribs  broken  by  a  shrapnel 
splinter,  and  is  now  impatiently  awaiting  her 
complete  recovery  to  rejoin.  She  is  now  being 
carefully  nursed  in  a  pretty,  small  room  of  the 
hospital,  which  is  being  directed  by  one  of  the 
army  lady  doctors.  .  .  .  The  nerves  of  that 
nineteen-year-old  girl  have  completely  with- 
stood the  manifold  shocks  of  one  of  the  bloodiest 
and  most  exacting  campaigns  of  history,  and 
she  is  commissioned  for  commissioned  rank." 


328  WOMEN   IN    WAR 

So  much  for  the  Amazons  in  the  ranks  of  the 
enemy.  Our  information  about  the  Amazons 
who  have  fought  for  Russia  may  be  borrowed 
from  M.  Ludovic  Naudeau,  the  Petrograd 
correspondent  of  Le  Journal.  The  Russian 
military  regulations,  M.  Naudeau  tells  us,  for- 
bid the  enlistment  of  women ;  but  those  rules 
have  frequently  been  honoured  in  the  breach, 
the  pioneer  being  Mile  Apollovna  Isoltsev,  who 
was  accepted  as  a  volunteer  in  a  regiment  com- 
manded by  her  father  : 

"  In  the  midst  of  the  battle/'  M.  Naudeau 
writes,  "  the  colonel  was  mortally  wounded  and 
was  left  lying  in  a  burning  cottage.  Apollovna 
dashed  through  the  flames,  discovered  her 
father's  body,  and  carried  it,  under  a  storm  of 
shot  and  shell,  back  into  the  Russian  lines/' 

Very  similar  was  the  feat  performed  by  Mile 
Maria  Bieloverskaia,  who,  seeing  the  major  of 
her  battalion  fall,  severely  wounded,  rushed  to 
his  assistance,  and  carried  him  out  of  the  first 
line  to  a  place  of  comparative  safety.  For 
this  service  she  was  awarded  the  Cross  of  St. 
George,  of  the  fourth  class,  and  she  was  shortly 
afterwards  promoted  to  the  third  class  of  the 
same  order  for  discovering  a  telephone  which 
the  enemy  had  concealed  in  a  loft  and  was  using 
for  the  purposes  of  the  Intelligence  Department. 
Other  heroines  of  whom  M.  Naudeau  speaks  are 
Miles  Kokovtseva  and  Olga  Serguievna  Schid- 
lowskaia. 


EPILOGUE  329 

'  Mile  Kokovtseva  has  also  won  the  Cross  of 
St.  George.  Enlisting  as  a  volunteer  in  a 
Cossack  regiment  at  the  beginning  of  the  war, 
she  has  taken  part  in  the  most  daring  recon- 
naissances, and  has  been  once  severely  wounded. 
"  Mile  Olga  Serguievna  Schidlowskaia  be- 
longs to  a  family  of  soldiers.  Her  elder  brother, 
Paul  Schidlowsky,  of  the  iO2nd  regiment,  was 
killed  at  Soldau  early  in  the  war,  and  her  other 
brother,  Alexander,  was  severely  wounded. 
Olga  herself  obtained  leave  from  headquarters 
to  enlist  in  the  4th  Hussars,  the  regiment  in 
which  another  heroine,  Alexandra  Dourova, 
fought  against  Napoleon  in  1812  as  a  cornet. 
With  close-cropped  hair,  she  serves  as  Oleg 
Schidlowsky/* 

In  conclusion,  M.  Naudeau  tells  the  story  of 
a  work-woman,  Maria  Limareva,  who  was 
recently  summoned  in  the  Russian  equivalent 
of  our  County  Court  for  failing  to  pay  the  hire 
of  her  sewing-machine  : 

"  What  have  you  to  say  ?  "  asked  the  Judge. 
'  Nothing,  except  it  be  that  I  am  unable  to 
pay,  as  I  was  wounded  a  short  time  ago,  fight- 
ing against  the  Austrians.  Here  are  my  papers. " 

"  On  my  word/'  exclaimed  the  Judge,  after 
scanning  the  documents,  "  she  speaks  the  truth. 
Maria  Limareva  is  a  wounded  soldier." 

"  In  that  case,"  said  the  plaintiff,  "  I  wish 
to  withdraw  the  summons/' 


330  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

The  stories  recall  the  unique  days  of  the 
French  Revolution ;  and  it  seems  very  appro- 
priate that  the  Demoiselles  Fernig  should  have 
found  their  most  notable  disciples  among  the 
women  of  France's  principal  Ally,  in  a  war 
which  has  called  forth  just  the  same  spirit  of 
popular  enthusiasm  as  the  wars  waged  on 
behalf  of  the  Gospel  of  the  Rights  of  Man. 
Still,  such  feats  of  arms,  admirable  as  one  finds 
them,  do  not  represent  the  characteristic  war 
work  of  the  women  of  our  time.  The  distinc- 
tive notes  have  been,  rather,  the  marvellous 
adaptability  displayed  by  modern  women  in 
conditions  to  which  no  experience  had  accus- 
tomed them,  and  the  immense  numbers  in 
which  they  have  been  found  prepared  to  face 
both  peril  and  hardship,  without  a  suspicion  of 
theatricality,  as  things  which  were  all  in  the 
day's  work. 

Where  so  many  have  done  so  well,  and  so 
much  as  a  matter  of  course,  one  is  almost 
ashamed  to  praise,  lest  eulogy  should  appear  to 
imply  surprise,  akin  to  that  expressed  by  an 
officer  of  Uhlans  who  questioned  an  English 
nurse  whom  he  found  wandering  among  the 
battle-fields  of  Belgium,  and  was  startled  into 
saying,  "  Really  !  really  !  really  !  You  Eng- 
lish women  are  wonderful."  Examples,  in  any 
case,  are  better  than  eulogies ;  and  it  will 
suffice  to  quote,  almost  at  random,  a  few  ex- 
tracts from  the  newspapers  which  have  printed 
the  stories  of  women — mostly  doctors  and 


EPILOGUE  331 

nurses — who  went  through  the  Serbian  cam- 
paign. There  is  the  story,  for  instance,  of  Sister 
Janet  Middleton  of  Middlesbrough,  told  by 
her  to  a  contributor  to  Lloyd's  Weekly  News. 
She  was  on  field  ambulance  duty  at  Markovatz 
when  the  overwhelming  Bulgar-Boche  advance 
necessitated  that  flight  through  Albania  which 
is  almost  comparable  to  the  British  flight  from 
the  Afghans  through  the  Khyber  Pass  : 

'  We  slept  in  our  sleeping-bags  on  waterproof 
sheets  on  the  earth,  and  when  we  awoke  in  the 
morning  our  blankets  were  covered  with  white 
frost.  We  dressed  our  wounded  and  then  sat 
on  our  luggage,  waiting  for  the  order  to  depart. 
Suddenly  there  was  a  whizz  overhead.  We 
looked  up,  and  there  was  an  enemy  aeroplane. 
Our  little  party  consisted  of  seven  nurses  and 
two  Sisters,  and  it  was  something  of  a  task  to 
look  after  our  wounded  with  bombs  dropping 
round.  But  we  could  not  afford  to  lose  our 
heads — even  if  we  had  felt  unnerved.  One 
man  and  three  oxen  were  killed  close  to  us,  and 
several  people  were  wounded ;  but  there  was 
work  to  be  done,  since  our  orders  had  not  come, 
and  we  simply  went  on  with  it.  ... 

"  I  shall  never  forget  the  day  on  which  we 
started.  It  began  to  snow.  We  hoped  we 
should  get  out  of  it,  but  as  the  hours  passed  a 
terrific  blizzard  came  on.  Walking  was  agony. 
We  had  packed  our  goods  on  the  ponies ;  one 
of  them  was  in  my  charge.  Every  now  and 


332  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

then  the  poor  thing  would  slip  on  the  rough 
road,  the  pack  would  fall  off,  and  I  would  have 
to  refasten  it.  We  were  climbing  mountain 
ground,  the  summits  of  which  reached  7,000  ft. 
above  sea-level.  The  road  was  little  more  than 
a  narrow  path,  holding  one  at  a  time.  On  one 
side  was  a  deep  precipice  over  which  one  of 
our  ponies  fell.  In  one  day  I  counted  six  dead 
horses  on  the  wayside.  Along  this  winding 
hill-path  we  had  to  climb.  Our  feet  were  sore 
and  frost-bitten,  there  was  no  protection  from 
the  blinding  snow.  We  could  only  go  a  step 
or  two  at  a  time,  feeling  our  way,  clutching 
at  the  barren  grass  on  the  roadside,  lest  we 

fell 

"  Eventually  we  got  across  the  lake,  and 
then  began  another  trek  to  the  coast  side. 
There  we  had  to  wait  six  days  for  a  boat.  We 
had  practically  no  food.  Foodships  were  ex- 
pected daily,  but  we  learnt  that  two  had  been 
sunk  by  the  Austrians,  and  on  the  shores  the 
tide  washed  up  a  great  side  of  fat  bacon.  Dirty 
and  smelly  as  it  was,  we  were  glad  of  it.  ... 
At  last  an  Italian  boat  came  in,  which  agreed 
to  take  us  to  Brindisi.  It  was  a  very  light 
craft,  and  it  was  crammed  with  refugees  who 
were  violently  ill  most  of  the  time.  ...  I  feel 
as  if  I  needed  a  long  rest,  I  am  so  physically 
done  up." 

Then  there  is  Miss  Linton's  story,  given  in 

the  Standard  : 


EPILOGUE  333 

"  We  had  no  medicines,  and  had  to  dry  our 
clothes  by  the  fires  of  sticks  which  we  made 
when  we  halted.  We  once  walked  twenty-five 
miles  in  one  day,  from  Prizrend  to  Jaconitza; 
but  our  usual  average  was  about  twelve  miles. 
Bombs  flung  from  aeroplanes  fell  very  near  us 
at  Scutari.  We  saw  many  bodies  of  men  who 
had  died  of  starvation  and  exhaustion  lying  by 
the  roadside.  We  wore  out  the  top-boots  and 
shoes  we  started  with,  and  were  forced  to  buy 
new  ones  whenever  we  had  a  chance,  whatever 
their  quality,  and  however  badly  they  fitted. 
Miss  Bell  burned  up  a  pair  of  top-boots  by  put- 
ting them  too  near  the  fire  to  thaw  the  ice  on 
them.  The  bread  and  meat  you  put  in  your 
pocket  froze  hard." 

Such  are  typical  stories  of  the  hardships  so 
stubbornly  and  modestly  endured  in  the  good 
cause  ;  but  there  is  still  something  needed  to 
complete  the  picture — the  nature  of  the  fear 
inspired  by  what  was  known  of  the  disposition 
and  methods  of  the  pursuing  foe.  In  the  wars 
waged  among  civilised  races,  women — above 
all,  the  women  who  tend  the  wounded — are  safe 
from  molestation ;  but,  when  the  German  is 
the  enemy,  that  is  not  the  case.  Doubtless  there 
are  chivalrous  men  among  the  Germans — one 
meets  such  a  man,  now  and  again,  even  in  the 
official  reports  on  the  atrocities  perpetrated  in 
Belgium  ;  but  chivalry  is  the  exception,  not 
the  rule,  and  the  exercise  of  it  has  often  been  a 


334 


WOMEN   IN   WAR 


violation  of  military  discipline.  The  normal 
German  officer  goes  forth  to  war  with  the  mark 
of  the  beast  on  his  forehead,  and  the  lust  of 
cruelty  in  his  heart.  The  higher  his  rank,  the 
less  is  he  to  be  trusted,  and  the  more  likely  is 
he  to  pass  the  word  for  cold-blooded  and  calcu- 
lated "  frightfulness."  Many  things  have  been 
done  in  the  course  of  this  war  which  brand  the 
race  with  the  stigma  of  everlasting  ignominy  ; 
and  there  is  one  crime  which  will  be  remem- 
bered against  them  as  long  as  the  crime  of 
Pontius  Pilate — the  judicial  murder  of  Edith 
Cavell. 

The  story  is  so  well  known  that  the  repetition 
of  all  the  details  would  be  superfluous.  All 
that  Edith  Cavell  had  done,  on  the  showing 
of  her  accusers,  was  to  assist  Belgians  to 
leave  their  country  in  contravention  of  a  Ger- 
man order  ;  there  was  practically  no  evidence 
against  her,  even  on  that  charge,  except  her 
own  frank  confession.  Her  whole  life  had  pre- 
viously been  devoted  to  the  tending  of  the 
sick  ;  during  the  war  German  soldiers,  no  less 
than  others,  had  profited  from  her  ministrations. 
Never  before  in  the  whole  history  of  warfare 
among  civilised  peoples  has  such  a  trivial 
offence  committed  by  such  a  woman  been  visited 
with  the  death  penalty  ;  but  Edith  Cavell  was 
not  in  the  hands  of  civilised  men — she  was  in  the 
hands  of  Germans.  How  far  remote  are  the 
methods  of  German  soldiers  from  those  of 
civilised  mankind  is  shown  even  in  the  story  of 


EDITH  CAVELL  335 

her  arrest,  as  told  by  Mr.  W.  T.  Hill  in  his  little 
book,  The  Martyrdom  of  Nurse  Cavell  : 

"  Early  in  the  evening  of  August  5  a  loud 
knock  came  to  the  door  of  Nurse  Cavell' s  hospi- 
tal in  the  Rue  de  la  Culture.  Five  heavily 
booted  German  soldiers  and  a  corporal  stood 
outside  with  a  police  officer.  At  that  moment 
the  nurse  was  changing  the  bandages  of  a 
wounded  German.  The  soldiers  broke  open 
the  door  with  the  butt-ends  of  their  rifles,  and 
rushed  into  the  ward.  At  a  sign  from  the 
police  officer  the  corporal  seized  Miss  Cavell 
roughly.  He  tore  out  of  her  hand  the  lint 
with  which  she  was  about  to  bandage  the 
wounded  man,  and  began  to  drag  her  away. 
The  Englishwoman,  astonished  but  calm,  asked 
for  an  explanation.  The  answer  was  a  cuff." 

It  was  a  pretty  beginning  ;  and  the  rest  was 
quite  in  keeping  with  it.  The  trial  was  not  a 
fair  one.  The  prisoner  was  not  allowed  to  see 
the  legal  adviser  who  would  have  warned  her  to 
be  cautious  in  her  admissions,  and  she  was 
tricked  into  the  admission  required  to  support 
the  capital  charge.  From  her  lips,  and  from 
that  source  alone,  her  judges  got  the  proof  that 
the  men  whom  she  had  helped  to  cross  the  Dutch 
frontier  had  actually  reached  a  country  at  war" 
with  Germany  ;  and,  after  that  statement  had 
been  elicited,  her  doom  was  sealed.  The  Public 
Prosecutor  pressed  for  sentence  of  death  ;  the 


336  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

Court,  as  a  matter  of  course,  accorded  it.  For 
the  rest,  the  executioners  acted  on  the 
murderer's  motto  : 

If,  when  'twere  done,  'twere  well  done,  then  'twere  well 
It  were  done  quickly. 

They  knew  that  what  they  were  about  to 
do  was  shameful.  Being  ashamed,  they  were 
afraid,  and  therefore  they  made  haste.  They 
doubted  their  courage  to  go  on  in  the  face  of 
the  indignation  which  they  knew  that  their 
sentence  would  arouse  among  the  humane  and 
chivalrous  throughout  the  world  ;  and  there- 
fore they  lied  as  to  their  intentions,  in  order 
that  that  indignation  might  be  confronted  with 
an  accomplished  fact.  They  announced,  that 
is  to  say,  that  the  execution  would  be  delayed 
for  a  few  days,  whereas  they  knew  that  it  was 
their  intention  to  carry  it  out  immediately,  at 
the  dead  of  night ;  and  it  is  recorded  against 
them  in  the  official  report  of  the  American 
Legation  to  the  British  Foreign  Office  that  they 
deliberately  blocked  the  path  of  mercy  with  a 
barricade  of  lies. 

It  also  stands  recorded  against  them  that  the 
American  Legation,  and  the  Spanish  Legation, 
believed  that  they  lied,  and  acted  upon  that 
assumption.  The  story  of  the  action  which 
the  Legations  took  may  be  borrowed  from 
the  narrative  contained  in  the  Field's  Supple- 
ment on  "  The  Crimes  of  the  German  Army  "  : 

"  Mr.  Brand  Whitlock,  the  American  Minister, 


EDITH  CAVELL 


337 


who  had  been  indefatigable  in  Miss  Cavell's 
cause,  was  himself  too  ill  to  go  out ;  but  he  gave 
instructions  to  Mr.  Hugh  Gibson,  Secretary  to 
the  Legation.  Mr.  Gibson,  accompanied  by 
M.  de  Laval,  hastened  first  to  find  the  Spanish 
Minister,  the  Marquis  de  Villalobar  ;  and  the 
three  went  on  a  desperate  errand  of  mercy,  to 
find  Baron  von  der  Lancken.  They  took  with 
them  a  note  addressed  by  Mr.  Brand  Whitlock 
to  Baron  von  der  Lancken,  and  a  plea  for 
clemency  addressed  to  the  Governor-General, 
Baron  von  Bissing.  .  .  . 

"  They  had  to  wait  some  time  to  see  Baron 
von  der  Lancken,  who  was  absent  for  the 
evening  with  all  his  staff ;  but  they  sent  a 
messenger  to  him,  and  he  returned  with  two 
other  officials.  -He  was  told  their  mission,  and 
he  read  Mr.  Whitlock's  letter  aloud.  His  re- 
sponse was  to  express  his  disbelief  that  sen- 
tence had  been  passed ;  and  he  demanded  the 
source  of  the  information.  He  continued  to 
try  to  put  his  interlocutors  off,  but  finally  was 
prevailed  upon  to  telephone  to  the  Presiding 
Judge  of  the  Court-martial.  He  was  then 
obliged  to  admit  that  sentence  had  been  passed, 
and  that  the  sentence  would  be  carried  out 
before  morning. 

"  Mr,  Gibson,  M.  de  Laval,  the  Marquis  de 
Villalobar  pleaded  for  clemency;  at  any  rat'e, 
for  delay  ;  they  exhausted  every  plea,  every 
reason. 

11  Baron  von  der  Lancken  replied  that  the 

22 


338  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

Military  Governor  was  the  supreme  authority  ; 
but  appeal  from  his  decision  could  be  carried 
only  to  the  Emperor.  He  added  that  the  Mili- 
tary Governor  had  discretionary  powers  to 
accept  or  to  refuse  acceptance  to  a  plea  for 
clemency.  .  .  .  After  some  discussion,  he  agreed 
to  call  up  the  Military  Governor  on  the  telephone 
and  learn  whether  he  had  already  ratified  the 
sentence,  and  whether  there  was  any  chance  of 
clemency. 

"  He  returned  in  half  an  hour,  and  said  he 
had  conferred  personally  with  Baron  von  Bis- 
sing,  who  said  that  he  had  deliberated  on  the 
case,  and  that  he  considered  the  infliction  of 
the  death-penalty  imperative.  He  therefore 
declined  to  accept  Mr.  Brand  Whitlock's  appeal 
for  clemency,  or  any  representation  in  regard  to 
the  matter/' 

So,  the  murder  having  been  resolved  upon,  it 
was  committed  at  the  dead  of  night.  The  Rev. 
H.  S.  T.  Gahan,  the  British  chaplain  at  Brussels, 
had  already  been  admitted  to  offer  the  last 
consolations  of  religion  to  the  victim  of  the 
murder,  at  the  time  when  Von  der  Lancken, 
the  liar,  was  denying  that  sentence  had  been 
passed.  This  is  his  story  of  her  last  hours  : 

"  To  my  astonishment  and  relief,  I  found  my 
friend  perfectly  calm  and  resigned.  But  this 
could  not  lessen  the  tenderness  and  intensity 
of  feeling  on  either  part  during  that  last  inter- 
view of  almost  an  hour. 


EDITH  CAVELL  339 

"  Her  first  words  to  me  were  upon  a  matter 
concerning  herself  personally,  but  the  solemn 
asseveration  which  accompanied  them  was  made 
expressedly  in  the  light  of  God  and  eternity. 
She  then  added  that  she  wished  all  her  friends 
to  know  that  she  willingly  gave  her  life  for  her 
country,  and  said  :  '  I  have  no  fear  nor  shrink- 
ing ;  I  have  seen  death  so  often  that  it  is  not 
strange  or  fearful  to  me/  She  further  said  :  *  I 
thank  God  for  this  ten  weeks'  quiet  before  the 
end.  Life  has  always  been  hurried  and  full  of 
difficulty.  This  time  of  rest  has  been  a  great 
mercy.  They  have  all  been  very  kind  to  me 
here.  But  this  I  would  say,  standing  as  I  do 
in  view  of  God  and  eternity:  I  realise  that 
patriotism  is  not  enough.  I  must  have  no 
hatred  or  bitterness  towards  any  one.' 

"  We  partook  of  the  Holy  Communion  to- 
gether, and  she  received  the  Gospel  message  of 
consolation  with  all  her  heart .  At  the  close  of  the 
little  service,  I  began  to  repeat  the  words,  *  Abide 
with  Me/  and  she  joined  softly  in  the  end." 

So  the  foul  deed  was  done  ;  and  the  civilised 
world  raised  a  cry  of  "  Shame  !  "  which  will  re- 
echo down  the  ages,  long  after  the  German 
Empire  has  been  ground  to  dust;  and  the 
German  press,  for  a  moment  staggered  and  silent, 
presently  recovered  itself  and  spoke  out  with 
that  callous  vulgarity  which  is  of  the  essence  of 
the  German  mind.  This,  for  instance,  is  how 
the  Berlin  Lokalanzeiger  spoke  : 


340  WOMEN    IN   WAR 

"  The  hypocritical  blubbering  and  hysterical 
howling  that  still  go  on  in  the  English  Press 
over  the  Cavell  affair  make  us  downright  sick. 
The  immeasurable  depth  of  this  true  English 
cant  is  proved  by  the  fact  that  in  London  they 
are  at  heart  only  too  glad  at  the  occurrence, 
which  has  afforded  the  military  authorities  a 
splendid  instrument  for  reviving  the  waning  re- 
cruiting activities.  To  the  British  War  Office 
the  dead  woman  is  worth  a  score  of  recruiting 
sergeants  :  she  is  also  much  cheaper  to  employ. 
She  costs  no  money,  but  only  a  liberal  output 
of  those  crocodile  tears  which  John  Bull's  eyes 
are  ever  ready  to  shed  at  a  moment's  notice.  A 
nation  like  the  British,  the  pages  of  whose 
history  are  besmirched  with  dirty  deeds,  incurs 
the  loathing  of  the  human  race  from  now  to  all 
eternity  when  it  dares  to  point  the  finger  of 
scorn  and  indignation  at  German  officers  who 
only  did  their  duty  in  carrying  out  the  sentence 
pronounced  upon  a  guilty  woman." 

There  is  nothing  to  be  said  except,  Crimine 
db  uno  disce  omnes.  The  German  Press  poured 
out  such  apologies,  together  with  others  still 
more  degraded  and  bestial,  for  days.  Reading 
them,  one  feels  as  if  a  searchlight  had  been 
thrown  upon  the  place  in  which  the  German 
soul  should  be,  and  only  a  speck  of  dirt  had 
been  found  there.  And,  if  the  Germans  flatter 
themselves  that  it  is  only  in  England  that  their 
crime  has  met  with  contemptuous  execration, 


EDITH  CAVELL  341 

then  let  them  consider  the  words  in  which  M. 
Painleve  denounced  it,  at  the  ceremony  ar- 
ranged by  the  League  of  the  Rights  of  Man,  in 
the  presence  of  the  President  of  the  Republic 
and  the  Ambassadors  of  the  Allied  Powers  : 

"  Germany  has  neither  accused  nor  excused 
herself.  Her  lawyers  are  still  quibbling  over 
the  murdered  nurse's  so-called  trial.  It  passes 
their  comprehension  that  the  legality  of  this 
murder  increases  its  terror. 

"  What  is  intolerable  precisely  is  that  her 
trial  and  execution  conformed  with  German 
justice.  So  long  as  Germany  does  not  pro- 
foundly feel  the  shame  and  remorse  of  this 
crime  no  peace  will  be  possible  between  Germany 
and  humanity.  Even  were  an  absurd  and  im- 
possible hypothesis  to  come  true,  and  violence 
and  iniquity  to  triumph  over  justice  and  right/ 
there  is  not  a  man  worthy  of  the  name  who 
would  not  prefer  death  with  Miss  Cavell  to  vic- 
tory with  her  murderers. 

"  But  it  is  to  our  victory,  and  not  to  defeat, 
that  those  thousands  of  young  Englishmen  are 
marching,  who  have  enlisted  to  wreak  vengeance 
upon  the  German  people  for  this  murder.  .  .  . 
The  Germans  shot  the  frail  nurse  in  vain. 
Little  English  nurse,  you  have  not  been  van- 
quished ;  you  are  victorious  for  all  time.  At 
this  great  commemoration  which  anticipates 
history,  before  crowds  of  French  people 
come  to  celebrate  you,  we  greet  in  you  the 


342  WOMEN   IN   WAR 

herald   of    better    humanity    and    triumphant 
justice.'' 

And  on  those  two  words  "  murder "  and 
"  justice  "  we  must  continue  to  insist  when  the 
hour  comes.  Murder  has  been  done,  and  there- 
fore justice  must  be  done.  Von  Bissing  and 
the  others  must  understand  that,  henceforward, 
whether  they  fight  or  administer,  they  do  so 
with  ropes  round  their  necks,  that  we  shall  not 
temper  justice,  any  more  than  they  tempered 
injustice,  with  mercy,  and  that,  unless  their 
own  hands  should  rob  the  executioner  of  his 
due,  their  fate  is  fixed,  and  they  will  be  swung 
ignominiously  from  the  gallows  into  the  presence 
of  the  Judge  of  all  the  earth. 


THE    END 


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Gribble,  Francis  Henry 
Women  in  war