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She went through every part of the town to solicit the assistance of the rich; and she plied to the butchers and gardeners, earnestly requesting such scraps of meat and vegetables as were not worth producing in the market. With such materials she contrived to make wholesome soup; and when any of the prisoners were sick, she became their nurse. During sixteen months she daily visited a Spanish officer, whose dreadful sufferings found no relief but from the kindness of this excellent woman. The removal in winter of 600 Spanish prisoners, who had been long confined at Besançon, was a real sorrow to Sour Marthe; and when she had in vain endeavoured to prevent it, her whole attention was devoted to procuring clothes, and every comfort which might enable them to support the severity of the weather during their journey. She again applied to the inhabitants of the town; and was so successful, that shirts, coats, shoes, &c. &c. were procured in sufficient quantity to supply all those who were in absolute want of such assistance. The prisoners were inconsolable, when they heard that they were to be separated from their benefactress; and having nothing to offer as a mark of their affection and gratitude, but a little silver crucifix which was the property of one of the soldiers, they agreed to present it

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to her, after engraving on it in Spanish, "To "Martha our mother and benefactress." As soon as one set of prisoners were removed, others arrived, and for several years there were seldom fewer than 500 or 600 at Besançon. The greater part were Germans, some were Russians, but all were objects of this woman's benevolence. In short, with very moderate means, but with good-will, good judgment, and indefatigable activity, she has for many years past supplied the necessaries of life to many hundreds of prisoners, who were perishing with cold and hunger, a pound of bread being all that was allowed them by the French Government.

Once, and I think she said but once, there were a few Englishmen confined here; it was only for a short time, but some of the poor fellows wove a large straw hat, such as in Franche Compté is used in summer, which they ornámented with a pretty blue ribbon, and presented it to Soeur Marthe, as a testimony of their gratitude.

The appearance of this extraordinary woman is very plain and simple; her dress is a brown stuff gown with a blue apron. When asked by some of her friends, why she would not bestow a little more money on those articles, she

answered, "is itnot better to put my ribbons "and laces into my boiler?"

This excellent woman has been often employed in conveying petitions from the soldiers and other persons to the commandant; and one day he said to her, "Sister Martha, you "will be sorry that your good friends the "Spaniards are going!" 'Yes; General; but my good friends the English are coming, "for all who are unfortunate are my friends."

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P. S. O&. 2. I have got a print of Sœur Marthe, which is a striking likeness. Her countenance speaks the goodness of her heart, and the happiness of a life devoted to the service of GOD, and of our fellow creatures. The last words of her speech to the General are en. graved as a motto. "Tous les malheureux sont "mes amis." I hope something is going to be done for this benevolent being. She told me, when I called to take leave of her this morning, that Marshal Ney sent for her yesterday evening: He said she had been mentioned to him at the Tuilleries.

LETTER XII.

Brie Comté Robert, Oct. 11, 1814,

LEAVING Besançon, I travelled through a tract of country which, in a space of near two hundred miles, affords as little as possible to gratify the eye, or employ the pen: an open corn country without a hedge, or I might almost say a tree; scarce a farm-house, or a cottage, except in the villages; and very few gentlemen's seats by the road side. The soil a deep clay, producing corn in sufficient quantity, but nothing else that deserves notice.

At Chaumont far different objects, engaged my attention. I joined at that place the great road from Paris to Basle. There I began to see, and from thence till within a short distance from Paris, I continued to view, a melancholy picture of desolation; the common (I fear I may say) the unavoidable consequence

of war.

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In going from Chaumont to Bar-sur-Aube, to Brienne, to Arcis, Troyes, Nogent, Provins, Nangis, and Guignes, I passed through the heart of the country in which the war raged with the greatest fury, and in which engagements with various success were almost every day taking place, till the repulse at Arcis on the 21st of March induced Bonaparte to go to the eastward, in consequence of which the Allies formed the bold resolution of marching rapidly to Paris, and by one great effort bringing the long contest to a glorious termination. Of the joy felt by the civilized world, for its deliverance on that occasion from one of the most severe scourges with which it had ever been afflicted, no man more cordially partook than myself; nor does any man with more sincere gratitude look up in the first instance to Providence, who decreed, and in the next place, to the brave warriors who effected, that deliverance. Yet war is in itself so great an evil, that I could wish all who are desirous of engaging in it unnecessarily, (which was not the case with England in the late contest,) should view the country which I am now to describe.

In a tract extending about 120 or 130 miles from east to west, one half of the houses in the hamlets, villages, and towns, (with the exception of the city of Troyes, which almost mira