"Your commander, Marshal Boutourlin, ought to put you under arrest, to punish military insubordination. As your sovereign, I reserve to myself the pleasure of rewarding a faithful subject, who by a splendid action has well served his country."
The Order of St. Alexander accompanied this gracious letter. Never was commander more loved by his soldiers than Suwarrow. Like Napoleon, he shared their hardships and privations as well as their dangers. He would often pass the cold winter nights in their bivouac and partake of their humble fare. In every difficulty he kept up their spirits by his alacrity and cheerfulness. However tinctured with superstition, he had deep devotional feelings; and it is stated that he never went to battle without offering up a prayer, and that it was his first and last occupation every day. Often when provisions were failing he would order a fast to be observed by the troops, as a token of humiliation for their sins: and he always set the example of the prescribed abstinence himself. The noble self-denial which made him scorn any care for himself which was beyond the reach of the common soldiers, so thoroughly identified him with them, that all their tender sympathies were with him, as much as their respect and veneration. He was never seen on the long and heavy marches of his infantry but on foot by their side; and in every advance of his cavalry he was at their head on horseback. He worked indefatigably with them in the trenches, and in all their military operations. When the war broke out afresh with the Turks in the year 1785, he was surprised in the town of Kenburn by an advance of a great body of Osmanli horse; his troops were scattered through the adjacent country, and could not be brought together without great difficulty—a successful attack had been made upon one his generals. When the news was brought to him he betrayed no agitation, but instantly repaired to the church, where he directed that a Te Deum should be chanted as for a victory. This he might have done to show his firm trust in the prophesied success of the Russian arms, even under discouragement. He joined in the chant with animated fervor. As soon as the service was over he placed himself a the head of a small body of troops which were in waiting, and hastened to meet the enemy, who were coming on in considerable force. By a most desperate onset he drove them back, but in the engagement he was wounded; and his soldiers, no longer animated by his presence, became disheartened, and fled in confusion. Suwarrow leaped from the litter in which he was carried—all bleeding and wounded as he was—and springing on horseback, exclaimed, "I am still alive, my children!" This was the rallying cry—he led them on to victory.
Of all the brilliant achievements of Suwarrow, there was none more wonderful than the conquest of Ismail. It had stood out against two sieges, and was considered almost impregnable. The Empress, provoked at its not having yielded, gave an absolute order that it should be taken. Potemkin, who was then at the head of the Russian army, dreaded Catharine's displeasure should she be disappointed the third time. In his embarrassment he consulted with Suwarrow, who undertook the conduct of the siege. Notwithstanding the great danger of an enterprise which had failed twice, he felt confident of success; and said, with earnest faith in the result, "The Empress wills it—we must obey!"
After a forced march of four days he reached Ismail at the head of his troops. A few days were spent in the preparations necessary for an assault. When all was ready, orders were given: the column marched forward at midnight. At that moment a courier rode up at full speed with dispatches from Potemkin. Suwarrow was no sooner apprised of his arrival than he guessed with his usual quickness the nature of the dispatches, and he determined not to receive them till the fate of the enterprise was decided. He ordered his horse to be brought round to the door of his tent; he sprang on it and galloped off, without seeming to observe the courier. After a desperate resistance the Turks at length gave way, and Ismail fell into the hands of the Russians. With his staff gathered eagerly round Suwarrow to offer their congratulations, the eyes of the Marshal fell upon the officer who bore the dispatches.
"Who are you, brother?" said he.
"It is I," replied the courier, "who brought dispatches from Prince Potemkin yesterday evening."
"What!" exclaimed Suwarrow, with affected passion,—"what! you bring me news from my sovereign!—you have been here since yesterday, and I have not yet received the dispatches!" Then threatening the officer for his negligence, he handed the dispatch to one of his generals and bade him read it aloud.
A more striking scene can scarcely be conceived. There was deep silence as the dispatch was opened. Suwarrow and his companions in victory listened with breathless interest. Every danger which they had braved and surmounted was enumerated one after the other. It was urged that an enterprise undertaken in the midst of a winter even more than usually severe, must be disastrous, and that it was absolutely preposterous to think it possible to make an impression on a fortress furnished with 230 pieces of cannon and defended by 43,000 men, the half of whom were Janissaries, with a force that amounted to no more than 28,000—little more than half their number. The dispatch ended with a peremptory order for the abandonment of the enterprise.
"Thank God!" exclaimed Suwarrow, as soon as the general had ceased reading, raising his eyes to heaven and crossing himself with devotion, "thank God, Ismail is taken, or I should have been undone!"
There was silence for a moment, as if all participated in the feeling with which Suwarrow glanced at the different situation which would have been his had he not succeeded; every eye was fixed on him, and then a sudden shout of triumph burst through all the ranks. He then penned the following brief reply: "The Russian flag flies on the ramparts of Ismail."