by his imperial master Alexander,
the Czar of all the Russias.

It was truly a heart-rending sight to witness the misfortunes of the
inhabitants, forced to quit their homes to escape a horrible death.

The provisions stored in the granaries and other places were consumed in
the flames.

The conflagration lasted about ten days, until almost the whole of
Moscow was laid in ashes. The main body of the Russian army had retired
towards Tula, and taken up a strong position on the road leading towards
that town, in order to prevent the French from advancing into the
interior of the country. Thus they were hemming them in on all sides,
only leaving them the choice of being starved or burned, or returning by
the way they had come, and wintering in Poland. This latter expedient
might have saved the army had it been adopted in time.

The terrible Cossacks, first-rate riders, with lances ten feet long, and
a musket slung over their right shoulder, were swarming around
everywhere, and annoying the French outposts, cutting off the foraging
parties, and hindering them in their attempt to penetrate into the south
of Russia, where they would have found plenty of provisions for the
winter.

Winter was fast coming on--a Russian winter, in all its bitter severity.
The snow began to fall, the rivers to freeze, and crows and other birds
died by hundreds.

God had sent His frost, and of the 400,000 enemies who had entered
Russia, but very few lived to behold again their native land.

Amid the confusion and panic that prevailed in the burning city,
Catharine Somoff, the little daughter of a Russian merchant, had been
separated from her relations and friends, and to her dismay found
herself alone in the crowd.

The weather was intensely cold. Forsaken and half frozen, the child
wandered up and down, not knowing where to find shelter. Both her
parents had mysteriously disappeared, and it seemed as if no one would
claim her. So passed the long hours of the night; and at the dawn of
day, Catharine, worn out by fatigue, cold, and hunger, fell down in
front of a church which the flames had not yet reached, hoping to go to
sleep.

Sleep soon comes to childhood; and, without doubt, this poor child,
exposed to such a temperature, would never have unclosed her eyes any
more in this world, had not a sutler's wife providentially come to fix
up her little provision market near this church, and, noticing the
lonely one, felt womanly compassion f