to the southeast; and after touching at few ports in his way, came before Rhodes, where he met with an inhospitable reception; from thence he proceeded to Atilia, where he was joined by some soldiers and ships of war. However, these were nothing against the power of his rival, from the activity of whose pursuit he was in continual apprehensions. His only hopes, therefore, lay in the assistance of the kings who were in his alliance, and from these only he could expect security and protection. He was himself inclined to claim the assistance of the Parthians: others proposed Juba, king of Numidia: but he was at last prevailed upon to apply to Ptolemy, king of Egypt, to whose father Pompey had been a considerable benefactor. Accordingly, leaving Cilicia, he steered for the kingdom of Egypt, and when in view of the coast of that country, he sent to implore protection and safety. Ptolemy was a minor, and both he and his kingdom were under the direction of Photinius, an eunuch, and Theodotus, a master of rhetoric. Before these wretches, Pompey's request was argued ;—before such mean and mercenary persons, was to be determined the fate of him, who, but a few days before, had given law to kingdoms. The opinions of the council were divided: gratitude and pity inclined some to receive him; whilst others, more obdurate or more timorous, were for denying him entrance into the kingdom. At length, Theodotus, with a cruel policy, maintained that both proposals were equally dangerous; that to admit him, was making Pompey their master, and drawing on them Cæsar's resentment; and that, by not receiving him, they offended the one, without obliging the other: that therefore, the only expedient left, was to permit him to land, and then to kill him; this would at once oblige Cæsar, and rid them of all apprehensions from Pompey's resentments; "for," concluded he, with a vulgar and malicious joke, "dead dogs can never bite."

This advice prevailing, Achillas, commander of the forces, and Septimius, by birth a Roman, and who had formerly, been a centurion of Pompey's army, were appointed to carry it into execution. Accordingly, being attended by three or four more, they went into a little bark, and rowed towards Pompey's ship, which lay about a mile from the shore. When Pompey and his friends saw the boat moving from the shore, they began to wonder at the meanness of the preparations to receive him, and some even ventured to suspect the intentions of the Egyptian court. But before any thing could be determined, Achillas had reached the ship's side, and in the Greek language welcomed him to Egypt. He then invited him into the boat, alleging, that the shallows prevented larger vessels

from coming to receive him. Pompey, after having taken an affectionate leave of Cornelia, repeating two verses of Sophocles, which import, "that he who trusts his freedom to a tyrant, from that moment becomes a slave," gave his hand to Achillas, and stepped into the bark, with only two attendants of his own. They had now rowed from the ship a considerable distance, and as during that time they all kept a profound silence, Pompey, willing to begin the discourse, accosted Septimius, whose face he recollected. "Methinks, friend," said he," that you and I were once fellow-soldiers together." Septimius gave only a nod with his head, without uttering a word, or instancing the least civility. Pompey, therefore, took out a paper, on which he had minuted a speech he intended to make to the king, and began reading it. In this manner they approached the shore; and Cornelia, whose concern had never suffered her to lose sight of her husband, began to conceive hope, when she perceived the people on the strand crowding down along the coasts, as if anxious to receive him. But her hopes were soon destroyed; for that instant, as Pompey rose, supporting himself upon his freedman's arm, Septimius stabbed him in the back, and was instantly seconded by Achillas.

Pompey, perceiving his death inevitable, disposed himself to meet it with decency, and, covering his face with his robe, in silence resigned himself to his fate. At this horrid sight, Cornelia shrieked so loud as to be heard on shore; but the danger she was in did not allow the mariners time to look on; they immediately set sail, and the wind proving favourable, they fortunately escaped the pursuit of the Egyptian gallies.

Pompey's murderers, having cut off his head, caused it to be embalmed, the better to preserve its features, designing it for a present to Cæsar. The body was thrown naked on the strand, and abandoned to every insult. However, his faithful freedman Philip, watched it with a fond attachment, and when the crowd was dispersed, he washed it in the sea, and perceiving the wreck of a fishing-boat, he composed a pile to burn it. While thus piously employed, he was accosted by an old Roman soldier, who had served under Pompey in his youth; "Who art thou," said he, " that art making these humble preparations for Pompey's funeral?" Philip having answered that he was one of his freedmen," Alas," replied the soldier, "permit me to share in this honour: among all the miseries of my exile, it will be my last sad comfort, that I have been able to assist at the funeral of my old commander, and touch the body of the bravest general that ever Rome produced." They. now joined in giving the corpse the last rites, and collecting the ashes, buried them under a little rising earth, scraped to

gether with their hands, over which was afterwards placed the following inscription: "He, whose merits deserve a temple, can now scarce find a tomb."

BATTLE OF SMOLENSKO.

I was encamped with the whole of the fourth corps, in this thick forest, when one of my comrades returning from Smolensko detailed to me, in the following words, the circumstances of the battle at which he was present.

'The position that we had occupied until the 18th of this month, made the enemy suppose that we should attack Smolensko by the right bank of the Borysthenes, but the emperor, by a prompt and unexpected manoeuvre, caused the whole of the army to pass to the opposite side. The same day the king of Naples, (Murat,) who still commanded the advanced-guard, and supported by the duke of Elchingen, (Ney,) arrived a Krasnoe, and, as you know already,' said the officer to me, 'gave battle to the twenty-fifth Russian division, amounting to five thousand infantry, and two thousand cavalry. In this gallant affair, we took several pieces of cannon, and some prisoners. After this success, Napoleon, as early as the 16th, in the morning, appeared before Smolensko. This town is surrounded by an ancient wall, with battlements of eight thousand yards in circumference, ten feet thick, and twenty-five high, and at certain distances, flanked with enormous towers in the form of bastions, the greater part of which were mounted with heavy pieces of

cannon.

'The Russians still expecting the attack to take place on the right bank of the Borysthenes, kept a considerable portion of their troops on that side of the river; but when they saw us arrive by the left bank, they thought themselves ruined, and retreated with the utmost rapidity to defend Smolensko, by the principal point at which we were about to attack them. They maintained themselves with the greater obstinacy, as Alexander, when he quitted the army, had recommended them to give battle in order to save Smolensko.

After employing the 16th in reconnoitering the place and its environs, the emperor confided the left to the duke of Elchingen, (Ney,) inclining towards the Borysthenes; the prince of Eckmuhl, (Davoust,) had the centre; the prince Poniatowski the right; and further on was the cavalry of the king of Naples; while the guard and ourselves, constituting the fourth division, composed the reserve. The eighth corps, under the command of the duke of Abrantes, (Junot,) was also expected; but that general, making a false movement, lost his way.

'Half the day was passed in reconnoitering. The enemy occupied Smolensko with thirty thousand men, the rest were in reserve on the right bank, communicating by means of bridges, constructed below the town. But Napoleon, perceiving that the garrison availed themselves of every moment of time to strengthen their fortifications, ordered prince Poniatowski to advance, having on his left Smolensko, and on his right the Borysthenes. He recommended him to construct some batteries to destroy the bridges, and by that means intercept the communication between the two banks. The prince of Eckmuhl, (Davoust,) who still kept the centre, attacked two intrenched suburbs, each defended by seven or eight thousand infantry. General Friand finished the investiture of the place, taking his position between the first division and the Poles.

Towards mid-day the light cavalry of general Bruyeres repulsed the Russian horse, and took possession of an eminence near the bridge. On that point was established a battery of sixty pieces of cannon, the fire of which was so well directed on the divisions of the enemy which remained on the other bank, that they were compelled to retire. Against this battery were opposed two of the enemy's, consisting each of twenty pieces of cannon. The prince of Eckmuhl, (Davoust,) who was charged with the storming of the town, confided the attack of the suburbs on the right, to general Morand; and those on the left, to general Gudin. After a severe fire of musketry, these two divisions forced the positions of the enemy, and followed them with wonderful intrepidity, as far as the covered way, which they found strewed with dead. On the left, the duke of Elchingen, (Ney,) forced the intrenchments occupied by the Russians, and constrained them to take refuge in the town, in the towers, or on the ramparts, which they defended with obstinacy. General Barclay de Tolly, then perceiving that an assault on the town was likely to be attempted, reinforced it with two new divisions, and two regiments of infantry of the guard. The battle continued the whole of the night; but soon after the evening had commenced, thick columns of smoke were seen to rise from different quarters. As the darkness increased, the flames were distinctly observed spreading with incredible rapidity in every direction. The whole city was soon on fire, and, in the middle of a fine summer's night, presented to our view the same spectacle that an eruption of Mount Vesuvius offers to the inhabitants of Naples.

At one o'clock, the ruins of the town were abandoned. Our first grenadiers prepared to mount the breach at two o'clock in the morning, when, to their great surprise, they ap VOL. 11. 20

proached without opposition, and discovered that the place was entirely evacuated. We took possession of it, and found on the walls many pieces of cannon which the enemy could not take away.

'Never,' said this officer to me, 'can you form an adequate idea of the dreadful scene which the interior of Smolensko presented to my view, and never, during the whole course of my life, can I forget it. Every street, every square, was covered with the bodies of the Russians, dead or dying. The flames shed a horrible glare over them. Ah! how much have those princes to answer for, who, merely to gratify their own ambition, expose their people to such calamities."

Pa

The next day, (August 19th,) we entered Smolensko, by the suburb that is built along the bank of the river. In every direction we marched over scattered ruins and dead bodies. laces still burning, offered to our sight only walls half destroyed by the flames, and, thick among the fragments, were the blackened carcasses of the wretched inhabitants, whom the fire had consumed. The few houses that remained, were completely filled by the soldiery, while at the door stood the miserable proprietor, without an asylum, deploring the death of his children, and the loss of his fortune. The churches alone afforded some consolation to the unhappy victims, who had no other shelter. The cathedral, celebrated through Europe, and held in great veneration by the Russians, became the refuge of the unfortunate beings who had escaped the flames. In this church, and round its altars, were seen whole families extended on the ground. On one side, was an old man, just expiring, and casting a last look on the image of the saint whom he had all his life invoked; on the other, was an infant whose feeble cries the mother, worn down with grief, was endeavouring to hush, and while she presented it with the breast, her tears dropped fast upon it.

In the midst of this desolation, the passage of the army into the interior of the town, formed a striking contrast. On one side, was seen the abject submission of the conquered-on the other. the pride attendant upon victory; the former had lost their all-the latter, rich with spoil, and ignorant of defeat, marched proudly on to the sound of warlike music, inspiring the unhappy remains of a vanquished population with mingled fear and admiration.