dred men under him, expressly forbad him to undertake any thing. But Souworow, who, that very instant, had learned that the Polish confederates had defeated the Petersburgh regiment, that their numbers were daily increasing, and already exceeded five thousand, judged that he could not delay for one moment, the destruction of a nucleus, already too considerable. He hastily collected his little army, amounting to one thousand men only, and marched in quest of the enemy. In four days he marched upwards of fifty leagues, fell unexpectedly upon the Poles, in the middle of the night, defeated and dispersed them, and took Stalowitz, with twelve pieces of cannon. The day after he followed up his victory, and destroyed whatever had escaped from the first battle. He then hastened to transmit to Boutourlin the details of this daring expedition, by writing to him:" As a soldier I have disobeyed; I must be punished; and I send you my sword-But, as a Russian, I have done my duty, in destroying the confederate forces, which we could not have withstood had they been allowed sufficient time in which to collect." Boutourlin was wonder-struck. Not knowing in what manner to act towards Souworow, he determined to write to the empress for orders. On the receipt of his letter, Catherine wrote to the victorious general: "Marshal Boutourlin, as your chief, must put you under an arrest, to punish the want of subordination in the soldier; as your sovereign, I reserve to myself the pleasure of recompensing the zeal of the faithful subject, who, by a splendid action, has so well served his country." She sent him the order of St. Alexander. In 1790, the empress had given express orders to take Ismaïloff; the siege of that place having been twice raised. Potemkin, who commanded the Russian army, fearing to disobey Catherine for the third time, communicated his orders to Souworow, proposing to him, at the same time, to

renew the siege, and to take the command of it. Notwithstanding the dangers attending an expedition which had already miscarried twice, Souworow, always relying with confidence on his own resources, accepted the proposal by saying simply: "It is the empress's wish: she must be obeyed." He immediately assembled his troops, and after four days of forced marches, arrived under the walls of Ismaïloff; several days were spent in preparing fascines, ladders, and all the instruments necessary for an assault. In the meantime, he got a fort constructed in a remote place, to exercise his soldiers in scaling walls; and, the better to deceive the enemy, he caused a trench to be opened with in thirty or forty fathoms of the place; as if he meant to proceed by a regu lar siege. "Every thing was prepared for the assault," says the author, "the orders were given, the columns were beginning their march, in the middle of the night, when an officer arrived with despatches from prince Potemkin. Souworow guessed that those despatches contained an order to retreat, or some secret snare. The fact was, that Potemkin could not but shudder at the uncertainty of such an enterprise; when, considering the inclemency of the season, the fortifications of Ismaïloff, mounting 252 guns, and defended by 43,000 men; his anxiety was considerably increa sed by the knowledge he had, that one half of that army was composed of Janissaries, commanded by seven Pacha's; while Souworow, to overcome so great difficulties, had only 28,000 men, the half of whom were cossacks Wishing, therefore, to throw the whole blame and the whole shame of the miscarriage on that general, he had written to him, not to risk the assault, unless he was certain of taking the place.

"Souworow guessing the contents of the letter, ordered his aide-decamp to get a horse ready for him, at his tent door, in such a situation as to bar the entrance. He recommended

at the same time, to keep the messenger waiting, as he intended to take his despatches himself on going out. He soon after made his appearance, pretended not to perceive the messenger, vaulted on his horse, and set forward at full gallop, to join the columns of his army.

"The Russians scaled the intrenchments with intrepidity. The Turks opposed to them a vigorous resistance; but the fortifications were carried. A dreadful conflict immediately began in the town. In short, after ten hours of the most sanguina ry, and almost unparalleled assault, victory declared for the Russians.

"Souworow, now victorious. surrounded by his general officers, who were congratulating him, perceives Potemkin's messenger: Who art thou, brother?' says he, addressing him. It is I,' answered the officer, who yesterday evening brought despatches from prince Potemkin.' Souworow then pretended to be in a great passion. Thou bringest me,' said he, orders from my sovereign; thou art here since yesterday; and thou hast not delivered them to me!' He immediately took the letter, and threatening the messenger with the severest chastisement, handed it to one of his generals, to read it aloud. "When that communication had been made, Souworow turned towards his officers, smiling and crossing himself: Thanks be to God' said he, Ismaïloff is taken; but for that I had been a lost man'-The answer he immediately returned to prince Potemkin deserves to be known, from its heroick conciseness:

"The Russian standard floats on the walls of Ismaïloff-Suworow."

He gave that letter to the messenger; and sent him off that very in

from agreeable; but his look was fulf of fire, quick, and above all, it was penetrating. It was impossible to see more wrinkles, or more expressive, than those on his forehead. At the age of sixty four, his head, whitened by age, and by the fatigues of war, retained but few of its hairs.

Though, to all appearance, of a weak and delicate frame, he was bless ed with a very robust and vigorous constitution; which he had constantly strengthened by a sober, hardy, and active life. Being seldom or never sick, he supported fatigue better, perhaps, than men of a stronger make. Yet such was his want of bodily strength, at the age already mentioned, that even the bare weight of his sabre made him stoop.

Souworow, in his temper, was hasty and vehement When he was deeply affected, his countenance became stern, commanding, and even terrible; it portrayed the sensations of his heart. But this seldom happened; and never without powerful motives.

On one point, this eld warriour showed a weakness. It respected his age. He could not bear to be put in mind of it, and carefully avoided whatever might recall it to his memory. For this reason, looking-glasses were taken away, or covered, in his apartments, or wherever he went on a visit. Nothing was more comical than to see him pass before a lookingglass. When, by mischance, he perceived one, he would run, shutting his eyes, and making all kind of wry faces. till he was out of the room.

"It would be a great mistake, however," observes the author, "to consider this oddity, as produced by su perannuated pretensions to beauty. The marshal himself often made merry with his own countenance; and as to his singular aversion for looking glasses, I have heard him repeat, frequently, that he never looked at himself, in order to avoid being made sensible of the havock of time; and that he might continue to

believe himself still able to execute the same military enterprises as in his youth; for the same reason, when ever be found a chair in his way, he would leap over it, to show that he retained his activity. It was also for the same cause that he seldom walked, but always ran; particularly when coming into, or going out of, his apartment Nor was he deterred from so doing by the most numerous company. He would even redouble his capers, and his anticks of every kind, before strangers of high rank; to convince them, that he was able, notwithstanding his age, to bear the fatigues of war, fully as well as when a young man."

Marshal Souworow was in the habit of rising, the whole year round, at four o'clock in the morning; but sometimes at twelve at night. On rising, he went out of his tent, and had several pails of cold water thrown on his naked body. Neither his advanced age, nor the inclemency of seasons, ever made him relax from this singular practice. He usually dined at eight o'clock in the morning in winter; and at seven in summer. Dinner was his principal meal. It was his only time for recreation; and he accordingly, indulged often in long sittings at table, where be sometimes forgot himself, for a longer time than he could have wished. He never sat down to table, or rose from it, without saying a previous grase, or returning thanks, to which he sometimes added a short blessing for his guests. If they didnot answer amen, he would say, jokingly, "those who have not said amen shall have no brandy." Although he was very fond of wine, and of liquors, yet he never was seen intoxicated. He ate and drank a great deal, because he had naturally a great appetite; and, besides, dinner was his only meal. The rest of the day, he would take only some cups of tea or of coffee He was in the habit of sleeping an hour or two after his dinner, according to the ordinary practice in Russia. His table was in general, far from delicate;

the entertainment was composed of cossack-ragouts, excessively bad; but which nobody presumed to notice as such. Each dish went round, and contained a separate mess for each guest.

As Souworow was like no one, his mode of dress must of course, be utterly unlike that of every body else. Jockey boots, half cleaned, ill made, and slouching, with knee pieces coming up very high; breeches of white dimity; a jacket of the same, with a cape and facings of green linen; a white waistcoat underneath, and a small woollen helmet, with green fringes. Such was his dress when with the army, in all seasons of the year. What made this apparel still more whimsical, was the circumstance of his having two old wounds, one in the knee, and the other in the leg, which often incommoded him, and compelled him, now and then, te wear his boot on one leg only; having the knee band loosened, and the stocking down, on the other. Add to this, a huge sabre hanging down to the ground. He was so thin and slender, that this light dress seemed hardly to hang on his person. When, however, the cold was excessively intense, he would exchange the dimity dress, for one of white cloth, exactly of the same fashion; but this was but seldom. In this singular costume, Souworow commanded, inspected, addressed, and encamped his soldiers on the frozen plains of Russia. He had obtained a great quantity of decorations and diamonds, in recompense of his numerous victories. On occasions of important ceremony, he was covered with them, and on those occasions only, would he display his splendid uniform of field-marshal, but, in private, or at the head of his troops, of all his orders, he only wore the riband of the third class, of that of St. Andrew.

Although this extreme external simplicity had all the appearance of avarice, those would be egregiously mistaken who could suspect Souworow of that mean vice. He always mani

fested a stoical contempt for money. When he spoke about it, which was rarely, it was always in a way which induced the belief, that he had almost completely forgot its value. He never carried any about him; was unacquainted with the price of every article; and never paid for any thing himself. An old soldier, named Tichinka, who had saved his life, and whom he had attached to his person, by making him his private aide-decamp, was at the same time, his major-domo, his steward, his caterer, and had exclusively the care of all his expenditure. He never carried about him watch or jewels, except in grand ceremonies, when he would deck himself with all the diamonds he had received from the generosity of several sovereigns, on account of his victories. Even then he considered them as monuments of his glory, and not as trappings of vanity. The finest diamonds could have no value in his eyes, unless they were the recompense of some brilliant military achievement Accordingly, if, when glittering with all those riches, he chanced to be near a stranger, he would take delight in showing him every decoration, one after the other, telling him: "At such an action, I obtained this order; at such another, this, &c." This enumeration, doubtless very excusable, was the only gratification of which his mind was susceptible, at the sight of all these

treasures.

The author quotes many instances of Souworow's disinterestedness, highly creditable to his principles, and to his loyalty. We shall notice only the following:

"An officer of his staff lost, by gambling, sixty thousand roubles, belonging to the military chest [about ten thousand guineas] Souworow immediately sent for the officer, punished him, and wrote to the empress: “ An officer has taken sixty thousand roubles from the treasury of the army; but before your majesty shall receive this letter, the money will have been

refunded into the military chest, out of my own property. It is but fair that I should be answerable for the officers which I employ."

Souworow always delighted in retaining soldier-like manners. When saluting any one, he would stop, turn his toes out, stand erect, put back his shoulders, as on parade, and carry his right hand opened to the right side of his little helmet, as soldiers do, when saluting one of their com manders. When he wanted to show a

higher degree of consideration, he would stoop very low, with a tolerably il grace, without altering the posi tion of his arms, or feet.

His simplicity was not remarkable in his dress only; it was equally conspicuous in his food, in his ledgings, and generally, in all his habits.

"The simplest apartment," says the author, "was always the one he preferred. Care was taken, consequently, to remove every costly article of furniture from the place he was to inhabit. He rarely slept in a house, when his army was encamped. His tent was dressed at head-quarters, in acorner of the garden. There he would stay the whole night, and the greater part of the day; and hardly ever did he enter the house where his staff was, but at the hour of dinner. His tent was that of a subaltern officer. Never, during the whole of his military career, did he spend a whole night in a bed. A few bundles of hay, neatly spread on the ground, was his most sumptuous couch. Such was his usual bed, wherever he was lodg ed, even in the empress's palace.

"He had neither equipage nor horses, either for draught or saddle; in short, he had no retinue. A single servant was employed on his personal attendance; for the momentary service of his house, he used to engage as many soldiers, or cossacks, as were wanting. His coach, which was a plain kibitk, was drawn by post (or impressed) horses. When going to command his troops, either in maneuvres, or in battle, he would ride