the enterprise, which had already failed twice, Suwarrow, ever confident in his own resources, undertakes it, with these words; "The empress wills it, we must obey." Having assembled his troops, four days of forced marching bring him to Ismailoff. Some days are spent in the preparation of fascines, scaling ladders, and other necessaries for an assault; in the mean while he has a fort constructed in a retired spot, where the soldiers are practised at mounting to an as. sault: and at the same time, the better to deceive the enemy, he opens a trench at the distance of 30 or 40 toises, as if he intended to besiege the place in form. "Eve ry thing," says the author, "was disposed for the assault; orders were given; the columns were on their march at midnight; when an officer arrives, bringing dispatches from prince Potemkin. Suwarrow guesses that the dispatches contain either an order for his retreat, or some secret snare. In fact, Potemkin could not forbear trembling at the uncertainty of such enterprise; undertaken in the midst of a severe winter, against a fortification furnished with 230 pieces of cannon, and defended by 43,000 men; nor did it lessen his apprehensions, when he considered that the half of this garrison was composed of Janissaries,

an

com.

manded by Scoen Pachas; while Suwarrow, to oppose these difficulties, had only 28,000 men, the half of whom were Cossacks. In order therefore to cast all the blame and disgrace of a check upon him, he ordered him not to risk the assault, without being sure of taking the place. Suwarrow mistrusting the contents of

this letter, bids his aid-de-camp have a horse held at the door of his tent, so as to mask the entrance of it; telling him at the same time to make the courier wait till he should go and receive his message. Presently he goes out, pretends not to see the officer with the dis patches; springs on his horse, and joins his troops at full gallop.

The Russians gallantly scale the fortifications; the Turks make a vigorous resistance, but the works are carried the combat is still maintained in the town, but a few hours of assault and carnage secure the victory to the Russians.

The victorious Suwarrow, while receiving the congratulations of his officers, perceives the messenger of Potemkin. Who are you,

brother," says he to him. It is I," answered the officer, “whở brought the dispatches from prince Potemkin, yesterday evening." "What!" says Suwarrow, pretending great passion, "you bring me news from my sovereign-you are here since yesterday, and have never given them to me." Then threatening the officer with severe chastisement, he gives the letter to one of his generals to read aloud.

After it was read, Suwarrow turns to his officers with a smile; "Thank God," says he, crossing himself, "Ismail is taken, or I should have been undone." And truly, adds the historian, this letter was a snare; for what general would venture to ensure the success of such an assault? To retire without fighting, to fight without succeeding, was equally hazardous. But Suwarrow, by not receiving these treacherous orders till after the event of his undertaking, elu. ded them, whatever they might be:

and

He gave this letter to the courier to take immediately.

The exterior of marshal Suwarrow, was of a piece with the oddity of his character. He was a little man of about five feet and an inch in height. His mouth was large, and his features all together nothing prepossessing; but his look was full of fire, lively, and particularly penetrating.

No where could one see a brow more wrinkled, no where wrinkles more expressive than his. Old age and fatigues of war, had left him but few grey hairs at 64.

Though his form appeared delicate and feeble, he was gifted with a strong and hardy constitution, fortified by sobriety, toil, and activity. Scarcely ever ailing, he supported fatigue, perhaps better than a man of a more robust frame: so great however was the weakness of his physical powers, that at the age I have just mentioned, he bent beneath the mere weight of his sabre. "Thus," observes the au

thor, not only was this weak and fragile frame unyielding to fatigue, but it enclosed a spirit capable of mastering circumstances and overcoming fortune."

The character of Suwarrow was animated, and impetuous. When greatly moved, his look became se. vere, imposing, and even terrible. He followed the feelings of his heart but these movements were

rare, and the occasion of them must have been weighty.

In one point did this old warrior appear weak-it was his age. He could not bear to be reminded of it either by others or himself; and for this reason every looking-glass in his house was either covered up or removed. Nothing was more comic than to see him walking by a looking-glass; as soon as ever he perceived it, he began running, shutting his eyes, and making all sorts of faces till he got out of the room. "We should be, wrong," says M. de Guillaumanches, "to suppose that this oddity was the effect of any antiquated preten. sions. The marshal would often joke on his own appearance; and as to his aversion for lookingglasses, I have frequently heard him say that he never looked in them, that he might not perceive the ravages of time to have disabled him from the military enterprises of his youth. Accordingly," adds he, "if a chair happened to be in his way, he used to jump over it, to shew that he still retained his agility. For the same reason it was a rarity to see him walk; he always ran, particularly at going in, and coming out of his room. The largest circle never embarrassed him; he even redoubled his drolleries in the presence of strangers of rank, to shew them that he could support the fatigues of war with all the vivacity of youth."

Marshal Suwarrow was in the habit of rising all the year round at 4 o'clock in the morning, and sometimes at midnight. As soon as he was up, he went out of his tent naked, to be drenched with pails of cold water. Neither his advanced age, nor the rigour of the

scason,

season, could ever induce him to relax this extraordinary custom. He commonly dined at eight o'clock in the morning in winter, and seven in the summer. Dinner was his chief meal. It was the hour of his recreation, which he sometimes prolonged beyond his own wishes. He never sat down nor rose from table without saying a blessing and grace: sometimes he added a short benediction to his guests, and if they did not answer "amen;" those," says he, smiling, "who have not said 'amen,' shall have no eau de vie." Though fond of wine and liquors, he was never seen drunk. He ate and drank a great deal, because he had naturally a great appetite, and dinner was his only meal. The rest of the day, he took nothing but a few cups of tea or coffee. He followed the Russian custom of sleeping an hour or two after dinner. His cookery was any thing but deli. cate, generally ill dressed Cossack ragouts, which nobody dared find fault with. Each dish was sent round; and contained as many messes as there were guests.

As Suwarrow was like nobody, so he dressed like nobody. Whole boots, slouched, and falling about his heels, breeches of white dimity, a waistcoat of the same kind, with lining and collar of green cloth, a little helmet of felt, ornamented with green fringe; this was his military dress throughout the year; nor did it take from the oddity of his appearance that he frequently booted but one leg, leaving his gar. ter and stocking hanging loose on the other, which had been disabled by an old wound; his large sabre dragged along the ground, while his thin dress scarcely seemed to hang VOL L.

to his meagre and sickly body : when the cold was excessive, he wore a vestment of white cloth like the dimity one he had left off: but this happened rarely. It was in this singular equipment that Suwarrow commanded, reviewed, harangued and encamped his soldiers on the frozen plains of Russia. His numerous victories had been rewarded with many diamond orna ments. On great occasions he was covered with them, and then only he appeared in his superb dress of field-marshal: at other times he wore only the chain of the order of St. Andrew. Let not any one suppose the extreme simplicity of Suwarrow's exterior was the effect of avarice; on the contrary his contempt of money was even stoical: whenever he spoke of it, which was but seldom, one would have supposed he had entirely forgot its worth. He carried none with him, knew the price of nothing, and paid for nothing himself. An old soldier named Tichinka, who had saved his life, and whom he had made his aid-de-camp, was at once his major.domo, his supervisor, his maitre-d'hotel, and had the sole charge of his expences. He carried neither watch nor jewels with him, except on those occasions of ecremony when he displayed the rewards of his victories, and the munificence of his sovereign. But it was only when he considered them as records of his glory that the finest diamonds obtained any value in his eyes, and then he would shew them to any stranger who might be by, and pointing out his ornaments one by one, "At such an action (would he say) I gained this order; at such a one, this ;" &c. a pardonable vanity, when we consider B

that

that this was the sole pleasure he derived from the sight of all his

treasures.

The author quotes many ancedotes in proof of his disinterested ness, which do equal honour to his principles and loyalty: I shall relate the following:

Au officer of his staff lost 60 thousand roubles at play, belonging to the military chest: Suwarrow sent for the officer, punished him, and wrote to the empress; "An officer has spent 60 thousand roubles belonging to the army: but when your majesty receives this letter, I shall have made it good, at my own expence. It is right I

should be answerable for the officers 1 employ."

Suwarrow was always fond of keeping up the manners of a soldier. When he saluted any body, he stopt, turned out his toes, squared his position, drew back his shoulders, and put his right hand to his little helmet like a soldier saluting his officer. When he had a mind to shew great respect, he bent very low, with a very ill grace, and without changing the posture of his feet and arms.

His simplicity was not confined to dress, but extended to his diet, his lodging, and to his whole way of life.

"He always preferred, (says the author) the plainest apartment, so that no article of luxury was left where he lodged; he seldom slept in a house when his army was en camped. His tent was pitched at the head quarters in a corner of the garden : he remained there the night and greater part of the day, and never entered the house allotted to his staff except at dinner time. Throughout his military career he

had never passed a whole night in bed, a few bundles of hay formed his only (and to him luxurious) couch, whether in the camp, or the palace of the empress. He had no equipage, no horses, no attendants. He kept one servant about his per. son, and took as many soldiers, or cossacks, as he wanted for the service of his house. His chariot, a plain kibitk was drawn by post or hired horses. For his reviews, and in battle, he mounted the first horse at hand, sometimes a cossack's, but generally his aid.de-camp Tichinka lent him a horse; altogether, a more moderate expence and equipage cannot be imagined."

M. de Guillaumanches assures us, that of all the qualities of mar. shal Suwarrow the most conspicuous was a real and invariable goodness of heart; he never met children, says he, without embracing and blessing them. He was ever a kind relation, a sincere friend, a good father; but he esteemed it the duty of a warrior to bestow that time only on social feelings, which could not be dedicated to the pursuit of glory. These principles were the invariable rule of his conduct: as a proof:

He was on his way to the army; and uncertain how long he might be detained there, when he was seized with a desire to embrace his children. At once to satisfy his glory and affection, he turned out of his way, and rested neither day nor night till he arrived at his house in Moscow. All his people were abed. Alighting quickly from his chariot, he knocked gently for ad. mittance, and on entering stole softly to his children's bed room. With a candle in his hand he gently drew their curtains, and after contem.

plating

plating with emotion the objects of his tenderness, blessed and embraced them; then mounted his carriage and set off without having awakened them. He had seen, embraced, and blest all he held dear to a wake them would have been to hazard a painful adieu, and to have made them sharers in his feelings. In this way the eccentricity of his character held sway over the tenderest emotions of his soul: he seemed to steal from glory what his affection prompted him to yield to nature.

Suwarrow remained ever insensible to the charms of love. He regarded a connexion with the sex as baneful to the courage, the morals, and the health of a soldier. In company, when he found him. self accidentally scated near ladies, he avoided looking at, or touching them, in a manner truly original. Though married, he knew for his wife no other sentiment than friend. ship. His ideas of chastity, which he held to be one of the cardinal virtues, were of a piece with his other eccentricities. After having passed a part of the night with his wife, which was a great rarity for him, he would jump up, and have pails of water thrown over him to purify him.

M. de Guillaumanches informs us that the character of the marshal was remarkable for an unalterable freedom of sentiment, which created in him an utter dislike to those equivocal phrases, which are the usual resource of flattery, fear, or meanness: whenever an officer an. swered him in that manner, he was for ever lost in his opinion. He called such people niesnaion, a Russian word which answers to our

"don't know," "possibly," " may be." He not only considered such sort of equivocation a species of cowar. dice, but used to think it betrayed a want of characteristic energy; in his eyes a capital defect.

When he would discover if any one possessed firmness of mind, he would divert himself by asking him publicly all kinds of ridiculous questions. He thought little of those who appeared abashed or daunted on the occasion, but sharp and lively repartees won his esteem: "He, (says he,) who is disconcerted by a simple question, will be much more so by a sudden attack of the enemy." In Suwarrow, the qualities of activity and penetration seemed catching. He electrified all who came near him. The words "I dont know," "I cannot," "impossible," were erased from his dic tionary, and supplied by "learn,". "set about it," "try."

We may easily suppose Suwar. row had a great antipathy to cour tiers. Under the appellation of neisnaion, they were the objects of his bitterest satire. Neither the presence of his sovereign, nor of the parties concerned, could tempt him to disguise the freedom of his sentiments. No wonder then he had many enemies at court. In fact he was hated there, and, in the midst of the camp, intrigue and faction sought him out for their prey.

Suwarrow was always a strict disciplinarian ; the least neglect of subordination was severely punished: and with all the originality of his character, he would be as well the model, as the enforcer of military obedience.

"He bade Tichinka order him from table whenever he was unB 2

awares