"In her visits to the spacious halls of the Piaskowa Skala, a painting representing a beautiful black-eyed young nun, with a sword in her hand, attracted her particular attention, and excited her curiosity; she sought an explanation, which the keeper of the castle afforded. He said it was the portrait of a lady of the Wielopolski family, who lived a great many years since, and who, imbued from infancy with the spirit of chivalry, disguised herself in man's attire and joined the army against the foes of her country. She became celebrated for her bravery and heroic achievements, but no one ever suspected that the valiant arm, which so skilfully wielded the sword, was by nature destined to handle only the distaff. Mere chance did unravel the mystery. The heroine cast off her military trappings, and desirous of shunning a world which could not forgive her so glaring a departure from its received customs, sought the seclusion of a cloister. But habituated as she was to the fatigues of the camp, she could not endure the monotonous tranquillity of a contemplative life, and she soon after died. But, as a memorial of her bold adventure, she was buried with her arms, and with them also did the painter represent her. These incidents threw Emily into a deep meditation, and we may well say that the keeper's narrative had a decided influence on her subsequent life; and under the tent as well as on the field of battle the image

of the nun of Piaskowa Skala was ever present to her mind. She often made it the subject of her conversation, and that painting remained indelibly impressed on her memory. Much to her regret, she could not learn from the keeper either the name of the war in which she served, or the time of her death."

The brilliant scenes of the capital had no charms for her. Warsaw, we read, with all its pomp, its palaces and theatres, could not satisfy a soul in which strong emotions had become a passion. She seemed actually wrapt in the past, and in it she thought to descry a pledge for the future. All the amusements of the capital, on the grave as it were of her country's freedom, she regarded as actually criminal; and if at any time she was allured by the hilarity and pleasures of the day, a Russian presence would soon dissipate the delusion, and she would at once relapse into her habitual melancholy.

From this tour she returned to Lithuania, "more a Pole than ever," with her purpose concentrated and strengthened, and her character expanded to a more masculine cast; though at the same time a melancholy sadness took possession of her mind, and developed in her that pensive yet fascinating grace, which never afterwards deserted her. The religious principles which had been early instilled by her mother, took a deeper root in her being. She avoided the companionship of her in the joyous dance; but in the solitude younger friends; she joined no more of her chamber or the fields, meditated plans for the future liberty of Poland. Her mother dying about the same time -a mother whose every wish she had sought to anticipate, whose death-bed she attended with affectionate tenderness, and whose grave she daily sprinkled with flowers, and wet with her tears-left her heart no object for its sympathies but the welfare of her unhappy country. It is true, that she sought a reconciliation with her father, to whose service she had been share of her income; but finding all her accustomed to appropriate a large advances repelled, there was no duty to interfere with her entire devotion of her whole soul and her whole life to her country.

Though possessing all the sensibility of her sex, yet the emotion of love she

never knew; though her affections were very warm and devoted for the few individuals who could awaken her friendship. For these she was ever ready to give proofs of her attachment, even at the risk of incurring the censure of public opinion; which, by the way, as we are told, she little cared for, the only guide she ever followed being her own conscience. 66 Although she believed her heart incapable of love," is the language of her cousin and earliest friend, Mademoiselle D, "yet her conduct was regulated by an instinctive prudence, which would never allow her to forget her duty. Had she ever married, no view to ambition, neither birth nor fortune, would have in the least determined her choice. The disinterested inclination of her own heart would have been her only guide, and she would have loved with the deepest passion." But, as she afterwards adds, it was reserved for "the most glorious event of our time" to develope "all the energy of a character which no domestic felicity could ever have satisfied."

She never dreamed of marriage, says her biographer an intimate friend of the subject of his memoir. "Poland, with whom she had identified herself, was the sole object of her thoughts. Her only ambition was to devote herself to the service of her unhappy and oppressed country. She would never have consented to destroy, by her marriage, this splendid image of her imagination; in fact, she felt that the quiet felicity of domestic life could never be her lot, and could never satisfy the ardor of her soul."

Her personal appearance is thus described:

"Emily, without being perfect in beauty, was nevertheless well calculated to inspire sentiments of deep attachment; especially in a man who can value the qualities of the soul and mind, more than those of the body. She was of middle size, well shaped, of a rather pale complexion; her face was round, with a small mouth now and then adorned with a sweet smile; she possessed a clear, sweet voice, which reached to the heart; and large blue eyes, whose brightness was softened by a melancholy expression. There was nothing very striking in her person at first sight, but, on acquaintance, one would discover new charms in her almost every day."

It was the insurrection of 1830 that first opened to her the path of glory which she had so long in silence panted to pursue. Her mental sufferings having impaired her health, she had retired to Libau, on the coast of the Baltic, for the advantages of sea-bathing. There she first learned the stirring events which had been enacted in the streets of Paris, during the three days of July; there she first heard of the revolution which immediately followed in Belgium; and there she first began to manifest publicly that deep interest in the politics of Poland, which in privacy had grown into so deep and strong a passion. From that period her domestic life may be said to be at an end. Her mild and gentle bearing, her courtesy and her benevolence, had made for her, in the depths of her retirement, many warm and sincere friends; but she was now to win the affections of a whole nation, and the admiration of the world, by sterner qualities, and in a wider and higher sphere of action.

When the news of the insurrection at Warsaw, on the 29th November, spread like a fire over Poland and Lithuania, Emily joined with vehemence in the revolutionary schemes of her countrymen. The influence which her wealth, her rank, and her virtues, gave her, over neighbors that both loved and respected her, she instantly employed in advancing the common cause. She set to work with the skill, sagacity and courage of a disciplined leader. As soon as matters were ripe for action in Lithuania, (to which, throughout the country surrounding her own vicinity, she had contributed more actively than any other individual), she applied to the directing committee at Wilna, to concert measures and take instructions for her future conduct. But they received the overtures of a woman with coldness, and distrust of her capacity and fitness for such enterprise; but nothing daunted by their repulse, she immediately conceived the plan of executing a daring enterprise for herself. On the 29th of March, she parted with her golden tresses; she assumed the attire of a man, armed herself with pistols and dirks, and, followed by two young men, her cousins, to whom she had communicated her designs, she repaired to the village of Dousiaty, to arouse the inhabitants to a grand sally

against the Russian fortress of Dünabourg. It was Sunday when she entered the place: a large concourse had been attracted to the church; these were immediately summoned to the public square, where the national standard was unrolled. She arose in the midst of the multitude, and, after a spirited harangue,she cried, "Oh people, it is time to run to the aid of our brethren who are fighting upon the shores of the Vistula! We must break the chains which crush us-we must be free-we must fight! God wills it!" The crowd responded with shouts, they ran hither and thither to furnish themselves with scythes, pikes, and fowlingpieces; ammunition was distributed, volunteers flocked in from the country, and before night-fall a body of determined troops were ready to march at her bidding into the jaws of death.

The next day they set out upon their march. The whole force consisted of eighty chasseurs or light cavalry, sixty cavaliers or mounted gentlemen, and several hundred faucheurs, men armed with scythes. As they moved along, the population hearing their objects, joined to swell their numbers. But the Russians were apprised of their movement, and sent a detachment of infantry to intercept them at Ucinia. These were mowed down by the resolute little troop like so many rushes. They then pushed their way to the fortress of Dünabourg. The commander of that fortress, however, trusting in his strength, sent out two more companies to arrest their march. Emily and her gallant soldiers did not wish to avoid the encounter. At the break of day, on the 4th of April, the two parties met. The Poles rushed to the contest under the guidance of their fair young heroine; they plied their scythes and pikes with the coolness of men who were threshing grain; and in a short while, the Russians were again completely routed. These successes animated Emily to a vigorous attack upon the main encampment. But here the fortune which had attended her previous battles failed. The Russians were far superior in discipline and numbers, and, possessed of artillery and the more efficient species of fire-arms, after a desperate rally, dispersed her little army. She lamented her defeat, but did not retire ingloriously from the career which she had so gloriously com

menced. Gathering the shattered remains of her corps, she united them to the command of her cousin, Count Plater, quitted the neighborhood where she then was, and attended only by a single follower, a woman, too, Mademoiselle Pruzzynska, hastened to join the insurgents under the guidance of Zaluski. She found that brave man encamped near Smilgi, in the district of Upita. Her reception with some of the troops, those who had been made acquainted with the boldness of her plans and the promptness of their execution, was enthusiastic in the extreme; but there were others who demurred to the right of a woman to share their councils and dangers. "You are a woman," said the latter to her, willing to put their objections in the mildest form, "and cannot endure the fatigue of a camp. We do not question your talents or your intrepidity, but how can one so delicate and slender bear the constant hardships of marches and battles, nights passed without sleep, and days without rest and without food?" To this, she modestly replied, "I know that my body is weak, but my spirit is strong; nor can I forego the curiosity to witness your courage and success, or the desire to dress the wounds received in a glorious cause, on the very spot on which they may be inflicted." Struck with her whole bearing and conversation, she was shortly admitted to the ranks of the free chasseurs of Wilkomir. This corps, composed of many of the principal citizens, who had already given signal proofs of their valor, was proud to enroll her among the number of their recruits, and instantly set about preparing a military fête in honor of the event. In the midst of their rejoicings a sudden firing announced the approach of the enemy. A force of two regiments of cavalry, and one brigade of infantry, fell with violence upon the insurgents, who were just resting from the fatigues of a long march. "These gentlemen," said the commander-inchief, "are very impolite to break in upon our fête in this abrupt way." "No," answered Emily, "they only come to grace it; to give me an opportunity to show myself worthy of being your companion in arms. In a few minutes the battle raged on both sides. At the outset the Russians were repulsed with great loss. Recovering

their energy, they made a second attempt, and were again driven back in confusion. But when victory appeared to be about to crown the Polish arms, it was discovered that the chasseurs had completely exhausted their cartridges. A panic seized upon the troops who before had fought with so much animation, throwing them into disorder, and compelling the officers to order a retreat. The Russians pursued and cut down all they met. During the whole battle, Emily had been in the front line, passing from rank to rank, braving the severest fire, but cheering her countrymen by her presence and words. When the retreat was sounded, she found herself in a perilous position. Her friends were flying on every side, and the Russians, driving furiously upon the fugitives, seemed to have cut off every mode of escape. Several guns were discharged at her, without effect. Her fortitude did not forsake her; but, perceiving an opportunity to make a desperate flight, she spurred her horse for the effort, and finally succeeded in getting out of the reach of the enemy. She concealed herself in a wood; and towards evening, crawling to the hut of a forester not five hundred yards from the Russian camp, persuaded him to furnish her with a secure lodging for the night. Early the next morning, feeling a little recovered, she departed to join the remnant of Zaluski's followers, on the banks of the Doubissa; with whom she shared the adventures of the guerilla warfare which it was the system of the Lithuanian insurrection to maintain, to harass the Russians and keep them engaged, so as to weaken the forces they could send to the main seat of war in Poland. From there, she passed to the corps of Constantine Parczewski, then lying about six leagues from Wilna, upon which they were preparing to make an attack. It was here that she was joined by another female, whose history and fate were similar to her own. This was Mary Raszanowicz, a young girl in the twentieth year of her age, blooming in appearance, frank and gentle in her disposition, and lively in her manners. The identity of sex and feeling soon united her in the closest bonds of friendship with Emily. From the day of their first meeting, they became inseparable, solemnly pledging to each

other to fight side by side, in the cause of their afflicted country-and they kept their faith, until one was called away by death. Together they entered Lithuania with the troops, and together suffered the disasters of the terrible defeat at Kowno. Emily had been raised to the rank of captain, and took an active part in all the operations of the stirring events about her, though unfortunately the effect of her unresting exertions and exposures began at last to make serious inroads on her health.

"In the rank of captain, which the com

mander-in-chief had conferred on her, Emily saw but the means of being useful self to the study of military tactics, and to her country; she therefore applied herpatiently bore the heat of a burning day in June, as well as the chill of nights. She was a model to her men, and the object of their admiration. She seemed endowed with supernatural strength, when all in her was the effect of energy and firm resolve: her frail and delicate health was greatly impaired. Unfortunate woman! thrown as she was into the midst of dangers and fatigues, she, whom nature had destined for the luxury of the boudoir, totally unmindful, as she was, of the comforts of life, she soon experienced the dire effects of her military life upon her deliBut she was never cate constitution.

heard to utter a single word of dissatisfaction, or the least murmur of complaint. She was resolved to abide by all the conself actively employed, and worked as sequences of the war. She ever kept herhard as if it had been her inevitable destiny. The first company, the men of which being just arrived, were yet in the freshness of their ardor and patriotism, soon became the choice company of the regiment."

The following is the account of her participation in the disaster of Kowno, in which Colonel Kiekiernicki, the commander of the place, sacrificed the regiment under his command by an act of imprudence ill-atoned for by the personal gallantry which he afterwards exhibited on the field:

"The enemy, once in possession of the bridge, crossed the river without meeting an obstacle, and rushed at once on the weak columns of the Poles, which they overcame without difficulty. Overwhelmed by numbers and by the artillery, the 25th of the line began to give way; now the ranks are all disordered, the confusion

increases, cartridges are exhausted, and our men, deprived of all the means of resistance, either allow themselves to be butchered by the Russians or seek safety in flight.

"Stationed on the right of the line, Emily Plater maintained her position with her company; she received the charge of the Russians with unflinching firmness; but as the artillery thinned her ranks more and more, she was at last forced to retreat. This intrepid heroine gave not up until the last, and she made the enemy pay dearly for every inch of ground they gained upon her; they fought almost hand

to hand.

"Her regiment was nearly all shot down, hardly one-third of it remaining; and although surrounded by the Russians on all sides, yet she continued to fight; but it is no longer for victory nor to break through the battalions of Cossacks that she rushed into the midst of them, in defiance of a thousand deaths; it is to avoid falling alive into the hands of the Russians; she wished to leave them nothing but her dead body.

"Kiekiernicki, the first cause of this bloody slaughter, being closely pursued by the Russians, arrived at the place where our heroine had been so long holding out in such an unequal contest. As soon as he perceived her, he cleared his way to her through the ranks of the enemy, and offering her his horse, entreats her to save a life so precious to the army, and at least spare him the grief of her death. She refused him, but seemed uncertain how to decide for herself. Overcome, at length, th by the entreaties of the colonel, and the solicitations of her men, who had formed a fence around her with their own bodies, she retired. It was quite time she did so; her strength being so exhausted as to render her unable to stand any longer; her sword fell from her grasp, she could no longer offer any resistance. But, at last, making a final effort, she gathered her remaining strength, and rushing with a shout into the midst of the Cossacks, she cuts and thrusts, and at length succeeds in opening for herself a path through them,

which she covers with their bodies."

The Lithuanian campaign failed entirely, owing chiefly to the jealousies of the two generals, Gielgud and Chlapowski, and the perhaps equal incompetency of both. After it became manifestly impossible to make head any longer in that province against the overpowering forces of the Russians, it was resolved to divide into three bodies the remains of the little patriot army, as gallant in the matériel of its

troops as it was ill-officered in its superior chiefs, with a view to make the best of their way across the Niemen into Poland, there to take part in the last great struggle, for which the war tal, Warsaw. The command of each was now concentrating upon the capiof these three corps was given to the Generals Chlapowski, Rohland, and Dembinski, respectively. The greatest number-among whom was our young heroine-attached themselves to the command of Chlapowski; under whose guidance they felt confident of effecting a successful return into Poland, where all hoped to clear themselves of the disgrace with which Gielgud had covered the whole army. For this object they were ready to make any sacri'fice; the burning of the baggage excited but a slight murmur; and in the anticipation of rejoining the standards of their brethren under the walls of Warsaw, they cheerfully endured their continual marches and want of food and rest. What was their astonishment when, after forced marches for two days and nights, they found themselves led by their commander to the Prussian frontier, where, halting, they were for the first time informed that their general regarded it as impracti cable to reach Poland in safety, and that he thought it his duty to take adVantage of the only chance of safety remaining-namely, the protection of

Prussia!

Brought to this point, the army found itself cut off from all other possible resource; and, bitter as was the mortification, the neutrality of Prussia having been little better than nominal, the greatest part of them were compelled to follow their unworthy leader into the Prussian territory, where they of course had immediately to lay down their arms. Not so Emily.

the destination to which they were When the report first reached her of about to be led, she refused to believe it, and hastened to Chlapowski himself, to ascertain the truth. At his first words she resigned all hope; but then, in the words of her biographer,

"A sublime scene took place in Chla powski's tent. A female, weak and timid, though strong in patriotism, and as full of hatred for the Russians as she was of contempt for cowards and traitors, dared to face him and reproach him with his base, ignominious conduct.