Category Archives: Steampunk Era Fiction

Woman Warriors


Most women fought in wars because they decided to, not because someone let them. The modern armed services can be seen as a concatenation of one law and reg after another to keep women out of combat, where they would otherwise go, until the 21st C unwound this.

“The first history”, Herodotus’, includes the record of woman warriors. There is Tomyris of the Massagetae, a horse tribe of the Sea of Grass, who defeated and killed Cyrus the Great (Kurush), and Artemisia I of Halikarnassos, queen regnant and satrap for Xerxes, who was so effectual the Hellenes had a huge bounty on her head even before Salamis.

You can ftumblr_n2n6irTCRz1s7#152783ind a lot of female warleaders, from Æthelflæd of Mercia, daughter of Alfred the Great, to Countess Matilda of Tuscany. (You can find them in, say, Tim Newark’s Woman Warlords) But instead, let’s talk about cultures where women “were allowed combat roles” – cultures where woman warriors were not considered odd. Then we’ll discuss cultures that couldn’t stop the women.

Woman warriors were completely normal among the Sarmatians/Scythians/Sakas who left their kurgan burials across the steppes. A large number of skeletons that could be sexed as female by the pelvis were buried with weapons. Normally weapon burials are assumed to be male. In modern days, a number of “assumed male” burials have been reconsidered, notably the Golden Prince. ( Dr. Jeannine Davis-Kimball, “Chieftain or Warrior Priestess?” in Archaeology, Sep/Oct 1997) The female headdress should have been a tip-off, but weapons meant it just couldn’t be a girl! So in this culture one in five provably female burials were warriors, including the one buried with a young male across her feet for a good time in the afterlife. (Sulimirski, The Sarmatians) That these people lived where the classical Greeks said the Amazons did seems a bit beyond coincidence, no matter how the Greeks warped their stories later.

Frankish women sometimes led their own warband (scara). A notable one was Perhalta, modernized as Bertha of the Big Foot, mother of Charlemagne.

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Spunky Ladies and Wicked Uncles: A Review


Castle Wolfenbach: A German Story, by Eliza Parsons (1793)

This is a 19th century adventure story for young women of all ages (yes, written in 18th century, but it’s ahead of its time). The characters speak as for an audience, events are fortuitous, the virtuous heroine does overcome all obstacles, and a certain amount is non sequitur, yet…

And yet, when I quit wincing and swearing at the dialogue, I keep noticing it isn’t as bad as, say, Mrs. Radcliffe. It actually sneaks some stuff in that I wouldn’t expect. The heroine, Matilda Weimar, actually is pretty brave and nervy for the time. She has gotten her own self out of serious peril and on the road when we meet her. She fearlessly explores the haunted wing of Castle Wolfenbach, and deals with what she finds there. Her main concern in finding someone she knew dead is not screaming and fainting, but figuring how to bury the poor woman decently. In short, if you can overlook a need to rely on an old manservant (um, she’s 16 and never been out of the estate, in a man’s Europe), a tendency to be exhausted by days of horseback travel (life with zero phys ed, folks), to burst into tears to relieve her feelings (as well she might) or even faint (corsets!), she actually is quite a spunky young woman. If some of the events seem ridiculous to us, the fault may not lie in the writer, but in our being alien to her world.

You or I would never think to write to our sister and ask her to take in some girl we only just met. We do not have the solid caste solidarity, that a lady is a lady and will not be a crook or a dangerous psycho. We don’t have the family structure, that siblings usually depend on each other as we might on parents, and then some. We don’t have the social structure, that of course a marchioness needs an amusing female companion, who is not a servant, on a trip to a foreign country. We don’t have the loose wealth of their upper classes, to add two more dependants to the household without noticing it.

So look at this as being perhaps just a little Mary Suish, but not in a bad way, while taking you on a trip through a world that has vanished, and is about as alien to most of us as anything we could reach by flying saucer. Take it lightly, let it be fun, and it’s better than reruns for an evening.

There is real evil in this world, and the author uses it. Matilda has been raised by her supposed uncle since some time early in childhood, only to find out, not that he intends to marry her for her fortune (the usual melodrama), but in fact means to force her into being his mistress now that she’s sixteen. This is a genuine peril of the time, for a child could be raised with no contacts outside her own home.

As I said, an alien world for us.

As a result, it was considered one of the seven “horrid novels” inappropriate for young women in Jane Austen’s Northanger Abbey.