Dunlap's Pennsylvania packet , The general advertiser — Philadelphia, Pa., 1775-10-30 00:00:00, page 2

CrTrre MEMOIRS of tie c: e%tef Jgx r LjAN
Pucatschew, the Ruffini Rebel, ufo ajjumed
the title of the Emperor Peter the 1 bird.
The red hiflor, of this orsh Inpfhr, ^ko Lately
give the Court cf ? eterfurgh more unefwef than
either Lambert Simnel, or Perkin Warheck,
formerly didour Henry Vil. is but very flight!,
ku3wn. He has feeu general, looked upon as a
lucre fevioe without learning, abilities, or foo'ite
nefs ; fat, from an authentic account of his life,
'nebieb fas been just puhlifaj in the Ruffian tan
guage, the reader cHR receive a vers diflerent
smprcfcu of him. The part, which this edr.t
ordinary churaßer has played upon the theatre o'
tie great empire of Catharine 11, iruf he inte
resting to all nations ; and though the lives % il
furious perfins, fitch as Turenne or Maribo
rou,, are perufid with a frecies of entbufiafn;
,r f , as "ice has its heroes as well as Virtue, the
/''' r )' °f 4 mci " eminently diflinguifoed by political
hyfaocrifi may afford equal entertainment and in
firuHion to the reader.
IT EMELJAN Pugatfehew was the son of If
, mallow Pugatfehew, a chief of the Cossacks,
on the banks of the river Don, who was remark
able for his bravery and condu& in the wars be
tween Peter the Great and Charles the Xllth,
King of Sweden.
He died, as he had always desired, in the field,
covered with wounds, which he received in the
battle between the Ruffians and Turks, near Bu
charest, the 'alter end of the year 1734, leaving
Jemeljan, his only son, then an infant, under the
care of his mother; who, in confeqtaence of a new
attachment, neglecting him in a most inhuman
manner, he was taken by an uncle to Poland,
and lived in the family of a Nobleman, where he
made himfelf acquainted with the French, Italian,
Polilh, and German languages, and was remark,
able for the liveliness of his parts. He then
returned to his own country with his uncle, and
fettled among the Cossacks that inhabit the forefts
of the Ukrain,
These people were originally Polish peafahts,
wh>had served in the Ukrain as a militia against
the Tartars, whole wandering disposition they in
a manner adopted, frequently removing in large
bodies frpm one part of the immense territories of
Kuffia to another.
Jemeljan, upon the death of his uncle, became
a Chieftain among these erratic people, and, from
h:s Interior knowledge eflabli'hed a government
which confid&ably increased the happiness of his
dependents, who lived like mod of the Cossacks
co the banks of the Don in continual warfare with
the neighbouring Tartars. Among the strangers
which belonged to the troop Jemeljan command
ed, were two men of abilities, who, from a spirit
cf enterprise, had accompanied him from Poland;
the one Boifpre, a Norman ; and the other Ca
peini, a native of Florence. These persons were
cf considerable use to him in inftru&ing and civi
lifing his savage officiates. In ore of their excur
sions Pugatfehew had destroyed a large settlement
cf Tartars, and carried off a considerable booty,
and a great number of prisoners, among whom
was a female remarkable for her beauty, called
Marvea, whom Jemeljan soon after became so
fond of, that he married her according to the cus
tom f those people.
Fhe charms of this Woman made an impression
upon our Chief's Italian friend, who, not feeing
any probability of succeeding to his wishes from
the unaffected virtue of Marvea, determined at
any rate to gratify his criminal desires. A fatal
opportunity offered some time after, as Pugatf
ehew had determined to extirpate a troop of his
enemies who had frequently annoyed him from
one of the final! islands in the Don; and, collect
ing 'be greater part of his force together, he pro
ceeded on the expedition, leaving his family in
one of the towns on the uncultivated banks of that
river. Nagowlki, a Polilh officer, was left to
take care of the settlement, and Capelini pretend
ing idnefs, found it easy to excuse himfelf from
the expedition. In the heart of an immense fo-'
rest, which was near the place of their abode, the
Italian had difeovered a large cavern almost co
vered with trees, which he pitched upon as the
spot on which he intended to aft his future vil
i^y. According to a plan fettled between them,
Nagowfki left the fettlement,' and, not returning
for feme days, was supposed to have deserted the
party.
One morning Marvea walked out with only
one of the company, Capelini having refu fed to
be of the party, under pretence that he was more
indisposed than ordinary, and therefore flood in
want of repose. Marvea and her companion re
turned no more. A general alarm took place.
Capelini, whose disorder seemed augmented by
this accident, afted his part to a miracle; and, in
h:s pretended despair, accused the Polander of hav
ing debauched the wife of his friend.
Fhe truth is, the'e two villains had agreed,
that, whi^e Capelini should feign an encreafe of
his malady, Nagowfki should go to his cavern and
wait with precaution for an opportunity of seizing
Marvea. This circumstance presently occurred.
1 he fight of the woman who accompanied Mar
vea a little embarrAffed the villain, who, through
a thicket behind which he was posted, observed
alltheir movements; notwithstanding, he deter
mined not to let this occasion escape him. The
monger few them with a barbarous pleasure in
sensibly advance towards the place which was to
secret the b^auTul Tartar. When they had pro
ceeded so far that their cries could not be heard,
he canz from his post, and wa'ked foftly behind
thetrees; when he arrived within a few paces of
th? two Unfortunate women, with one stroke of
the pommel of his (word, he extended at his feet,
without motion, and a'moft without life, the af
frighted companion of Marvea, whom he took in
bis arms, and, without uttering one word, con
veyed into the cavern which was not twenty paces
didant. His firft care was to recover the unfor
tunate lady, who, from her terrors, had fainted
away. When she came to herfeif, he returned to
the other women, and brought her also into the
cavern.
Marrea, overwhelmed with grief fo r a confj-'
durable time, refufed to take any nourishment ;
but her companion, who comprehended nothing
of what Ihe had seen, and had a foul less elevied
than the wife of Pugatfehew, consoled herfeif in
Iter misfortunes, and readily refrefhed herfeif with
the yrovifions the Polander presented to her.
At length Capelini arrived, and threw this un
fortunate victim into Inch' a situation as is not ea
sy to describe ; in fliort, be immediately proceed
ed to violence, and endeavoured to intimidate the
object of his wishes by threats of the cruelled
kind : but, despairing to triumph over rhe virtue of
his prisoner, he ioßall lenfe of shame and decency,
and enjoyed his prize in the most brutal manner.
The time for Pugatfehew's return aow approach
ed, and Capelini, who had occafionallv attended
his duty at the settlement, began to feel the seve
rest apprehensions of his villainy being difeovered.
As one crime leads to another; this inhuman
wretch, for fear of detection, was impelled to de
stroy the companion of his wickedness Nagowfk
by a ftreke of his fibre, and soon after murdered
the unhappy woman who accompanied her mistress
to this dreary place. Marvea, who was witness
of this dreadful feene, prepared herfeif with joy
to submit to the fame fate, but Capelini, still find
ing her necessary to his happiness, determined to
quit the sorest, and find some method of conveying
this unhappy lady to Poland.
Pugatfehew at this period returned from his ex
pedition, crowned with victory, when the hypo
critical Italian, like a second Jago, after many
intreaties, and with an appearance of the utmost
sensibility, informed him, that during his absence
his wife had eloped with Nagmvfki, and that he
had made the ftridleft farch after them to no pur
pose. Penetrated with grief at this piece of in
formation, the gallant Cossack burst into tears,
which at the fame time were allo plentifully shed
by his perfidious associate.,
Two days elapsed before Capelini found an op
portunity of repairing to the cavern, where he was
cautionfly followed by Boifpre, who had for some
time fu'pe&ed his criminal passion for Marvea,
and disbelieved the plausible tale he had recited to
Pugatfehew. On entering this dreary abode,
Boifpre and his two attendants, with some diffi
culty, difeovered the unfortunate victim, who had
just life enough to implore their assistance. The
Italian, confounded at this detection, fell at the
feet of this brave man who had formerly been his
friend, confefled his crimes, and requeued im
mediate death from his hand, or liberty to make
his escape. Without deigning him an answer,
Boifpre ordered his servants to secure him, and
immediately dispatched one of them to Pugatf
ehew, with the news that he had difeovered Mar
vea, whom he continued with and endeavoured to
administer comfort to in her expiring moments.
The Chief cf the CofTacks immediately repair
ed to the melancholy place, followed by several
of his troop, when Boifpre, taking him by the
hand, and pointing to Capelini: ' See there,'
fays he, ' the ravisher of thy wife.' Pugatfehew,
astonished at these words, was going to wreck his
vengeance on the Italian, but was reftraioed by
Boifpre and his followers, who conduced him to
his faithful consort, who no sooner saw him ap
proach, than she pronounced his name with ecthn
fiaftic rapture, and expired in his arms. This
affefling feene filled the hearts of these unpolished
people with grief and horror. Our gallant Cos
sack, unable to sustain the shock, fell senseless up
on the ground, and was carried by his friends to
the settlement, where he continued some time op
pressed with a melancholy, which wou'd probably
have terminated fatally, but from the strength of
his constitution and the cares of his friends.
1 he odious Capelini was condemned by the
Cossacks to a singular punishment for his atrocious
offences. He was adjudged to be faftened to the
dead body of the infamous Nagowfki, and fafpend
ed by the arms till he was starved to death. The
generosity of Pugatfchew, however, felt for hu
man nature under this dreadful circumstance, and
he directed that the wretch Should be put out of
his misery with a Sabre, the day after he had been
suspended according to his sentence.
We have no further account of this extraordi
nary man, till he entered into the Ruffian Service
some time after, where he gave many proofs of
his courage and conduct
He was at the siege of Berlin, which was taken
by the Generals Tottleben, Czernichew, and Laf
cy in the month of, O^ober, 1760, and was the
firft man that mounted the ramparts, at the head
of a party of Cossacks. His behaviour during the
Siege recommended him so much to the favour of
General Tottleben, that he frequently conyerfed
with him. The notice this eminent Commander
took ofPugatfehew, singular as it may appear, was
the firft cause of his, some years after, affirming
the title of Peter the Hid, and of the rebellion
of Ofenbourg. The anecdote is as follows:
,When Tottleben sent for this brave Comtek to
his tent, in order to thank him for the example of
intrepidity which he had shewn, he was suddenly
struck with the familiarity which his person bore to
that of the Emperor, and expressed his fdrprize
upon that occasion to all the officers' about him.
After having learnt Pugatichew's parentage, the
General, remarking he raight be taken for the
Emperor's brother from the extraordinary likeness
of their faces and make, jocosely asked him whe
ther ' his mother was ever at the court of Hol
ftein' (the birth place of Peter the Third)'No,
and please your Excellency,' returned Pugatfchew
with great readiness, 6 but my father has often been
there. 'The adroitness ofthis reply gave the compa
ny no indifferent opinion of his talents for a repartee.
Tottleben, addressing himfelf to Count Lafcy,
thus proceeded : —' But, raillery apart, I have
never seen any one who resembled another so
much as this young fellow does our Sovereign,
and, if by an unfortunate event (which Heaven
forbid !) we should ever lose cur Monarch as the
Portuguese formerly did their King Don Sebasti
an, this Jemeljan would not find it very difficult
to impose upon the ignorant part of mankind, who
would doubtless readily believe him to be the firft
perfor.age in the empire.
; ThL converfatiop, which Tttleben was far
from regarding as a preface of the part which would
be n'ayed some years @fter by Pugatfehew, made
a deep impression upon the mind of the latter, who
solemnly declared, previous to his execution, that
he never ceased thinking on the above declaration,
and that, when he heard.of the death of the un
fortunate Peter the Third, he looked upon rhe
words of General Tottl^ben, to make use of his
own emphatic exprefliom, ' as the voice of an Ora
cle which called him to empire and to glory.'
'While this singular character was in the Ruffian
service, he lived in a ftrifl intimacy with his old
friend Boifpre who had left the Ukrain with him,
and been emp'oyed as an engineer against the Prp(-
fians. Soon after the siege of Berlin, Pugatf
ehew accompanied by this friend, left the army,
in consequence of having wounded a ^Ruffian of
ficer of superior rank.
They paged with the utmost expedition to Vi #
enna, where our Cossack assumed thecharader of
a noble Venetian, and played his cards so well,
that he was received without fufpicicn into the
firft families i- ithat capital. His company was
particularly agreeable to the ladies, and the young
Countess of C shewed him so much partiality,
that Boifpre encouraged him to afle her in marri
age of her father.
From the MORNING CHRONICLE.
Odfeurata diu populo bonus eruet, atque
Proferet in lucem fteciofa vocabula rerun?,
Q,ee prifeis memorata Catonibus atque Cetkegis,
A/unc Jitus informis premit, et deferta vetufias.
^djeifeet nova, qusegenitor produxerit tefas :
Vebemens, et liquidus, puroque Jimiltimus amni,
Fundet opes, Latiumque beabit divite lingud.
Hgr.
EARNING, like beaten gold, in propor-
J J tion to its being more extended, becomes
more fuperficial. Gross ignorance and profound
erudition are now equally uncommon. Literature,
no longer confined to colleges and cloisters, mixes
itfelf in some measure with the commerce of the
exchange, the exercises of the camp, and the
graces of the court: but the deep-read scholar is
a rarer character than ever. The main stream of
science, branching into numberless rivulets, grows
(hallow, as well as clear. The stores oflearning
are parcelled out by retail, and what was farcal
tically said of the reputed knowledge of our
northern neighbours, is nearly applicable to that
of the whole inland. Every man has a mouthful,
but no man has a bellyful.
This observation, on the Rate of learning in
general, is almost equally true in refpea to the
lesser graces of stile and competition. That hap
py mediocrity, denied by gods and men to the
writers of former ages, has been referred for our
own period. Few writers are barbarous and un
grammatical, or even unmusical, in their language;
but very, very few are truly simple, nervous, or
elegant. Some Piles, like handsome faces, are
fpoilt by affectation, or ruined by varnish and ex
trinfick ornament; some are bloated with falfe
pomp ; some darkened by metaphysical abftrad.
phraseology ; and some enervated by dapper fa
miliarities, and the cant jargon of drawing rooms,
horse courses, and gaming tables.
Purity of stile, like purity of manners, is not
wholly practicable : Languages, like men by whom
they areframed, will be imperfed: yet every en
deavour to trace the sources of corruption, tends
re stop its progress. Living authors as well as
living manners, are at once the chief objefts of
our centre and imitarion. The works of deceas
ed writers, which we have been taught by tradi
tion to applaud, are too seldom turned over ; while
rhe productions of our cotemporaries prelent them
selves to our notice, oftoer than their perlons. He
who hes talents to didinguilh hhnklf from the
croud, has more followers than an ancient philo
fophci. A popular writer sets the fidhica of stile,
This Lady was descended from a very diftin
guilhed family, and was so far imposed upon as to
believe an alliance with Count Zanardi, as Pugatf
ehew then called himfelf, would be a very advan
tageous one. In short, after some time, this adven
turer had address enough to persuade the father of
the Lady that he was really the Nobleman he
pretended to be, and the marriage was soon after
celebrated with great pomp.
Upon a difoute occasioned by the Venetians sup
posing their rights infringed bythe Imperial Court,
the former sent an Envoy to Vienna, in order to
fettle the matter amicably. This Minister was not
a little furprized at hearing Count Zanardi had
been lately married to a Lady of diftin&ion in
that city, when he well knew that family had been
long extine. Suspicions now began to be enter
tained that our Count was an impostor; and it
was no doubt lucky for him, that, at the time of
the Ambassador's arrival, he had been some days
with the old Count, at his castle near Neuhaufel.
Boifpre immediately polled to the laft-menti
sned place, arid acquainted his friend with the
dangerous .ground he flood upon. Without seem
ing alarmed, the pretended Zanardi told his wife
and the Count, that one of his particular friends
had in an affair of honour dangerously wounded
his adversary, and taken refuge in the hotel of the
Venetian Ambaflador : 6 I must depart immedi
ately, said he, for the metropolis, in order to
thank that Minister for his kindness, and condu&
my friend hither as to a place of greater fecurity.'
This reason fatisfied the Count and his daugh
ter, and our two adventurers departed for Vienna,
which was several leagues from the Count's estate:
When they reached the capital, Zanardi privately
entered his father-in-law's palace, and poffefTed
himfelfof a considerable quantity of jewels and
plate which they immediately fold to some Jews,
and, quitting Vienna, took their route for the
borders of Poland, where they soon after arrived,
having eluded the search of the Count who had
become outrageous at difesvering the base trick
which had been played him.
The particulars of the rebellion fomented by
Pugatfehew near Orenburgh, with the signal ex
ploits of that distinguished impostor, his defeat,
apprehension and execution have been already in
ferred in this paper.
and tire very hereof eriticks that wiffi to depre
ciate the value of his works, run after him. It an
author ariles whose deep learning and large ima
gination, Struggling for expression equal to his
conceptions, tempt him to lengthen his periods,
and fweil his phraleology; if an intimate familia
rity with the combinations of a dead language now
and then betray him into too wide a deviation from
the vernacular idiom; such a writer will have the
mortification to fee the beauties of his stile diftoit
ed by aukward imitation, and his errors (if in him
they are errors) made ridiculous by aggravation.
The language that, in his matter hand, like a well
tuned internment, " difeourfes most eloquent
mufick," under their management utters nothing
but difeord. The rattling oftheir periods and tu
midity of their phrases, like the noise of a drum
or swell of a bladder, are but symptoms of their
wind and emptiness.
Ornament of di.dir&ion, fays Quintilian, though
the greatest of beauties, is only graceful, whe^ it
follows asit were of itfelf, not when it is pursued.
Ofall ornaments, a foreign ftru&urc of period, as
it is the most prejudicial to the genius of our lan
guage, appears the most studied and unnatural.
An adopted word is but a partial and trifling inno
vation, and is often happily incorporated, when
care is taken to naturalize the foreigner, by giving
a national air to the turn of the phrase. Every
language, more especially the English, has its
idioms, which we should not register, with gram
marians and lexicographers, among its irregula
rities, but with poets and orators, number among
its beauties. Toextirpate idiom from our tongue
would be like rooting up the old oaks, that are
the glory and ornament of our country ; or to vary
the allusion, to Square the language of our ancient
writers to the rigid rules of Roman or even French
syntax, would extinguilh the genius of our tongue,
and give the whole a foreign air, like the labours
of a tasteless improver, exchanging the luxuriance
of nature, in our gardens, for clipt yews, strait
walks, and formal parterres.
Perspicuity without meanness is pronounced by
Aristotle to be the perfection of language, or, as
he more nervously expresses it, the virtue of stile;
to attain which, he recommends, as a principal
instrument, the use of the most common words
and phrases in a figurative lignification; the fami
liarity of the terms rendering them clear, and the
novelty of their application giving them an air of
elegance or dignity. The works of our old wri
ters, profaicl cas well as poetical, abound with
these homespun metaphors, by which the lowed:
words increase their consequence, or at lead, like
cyphers, raise the value of their neighbours. Some
times, indeed, these popular tropes are carried tQ
excess, or used too licentiously; yet they com
monly breathe a magnificent simplicity, and the
whole conftru&on is purely English; a circum
stance, like that which induced Cicero to recom
mend the Rudy of the ancient Roman authors to
his pupils in oratory, urging, that whoever was
well read in their productions, could not, were he
even inclined to it, (peak other than genuine Latin.
It will not, I hope, be imagined from what I
have said, that I think too lightly of the labour,
and genius of those learned philologies, who, by
compiling grammars and dictionaries, haveendea
voured to give precision and ftabiliry to our tongue.
Their works, if properly confuted, are ufeful
both to the learner and proficient ; but if made
the objects of their study, rather than occasional
assistants, they will certainly be pernicious. The
grammars of living and dead languages are too of
ten framed on different principles: In the latter,
all irregularities, for which an authority can be
pleaded, are fanCtified by a rule; while the other
brands every idiom, or bold combination, ns a li
centious barbarism. No man ever learnt a lan
guage, living or dead, from a grammar or dicti
onary ; but by reading the best authors, and par
taking of the best conversation. He, who habi
tuates himfelf to such studies and such focieth
without proposing to himfelf a particular model,
will insensibly form a stile of his own ; as in the
mechanical part of writing, every man abandon
ing himfelf to his own fancy or powers, almost
every man writes a different hand. A certain free
dom of stile, a manly flow of language, will dis
tinguish the authors of such a school ; whose peri
ods will not be divided into formal compartments,
like the squares of a mofaick pavement, easily an
swering each other ; but the members of a sentence,
like the members of the human body, will feein
to be put together with case as well as symmetry,
and equally framed for the purposes of elegance
and ftreng/h.
As to grammars and dictionaries, though not
adminiftring to the foundation of our tongue, they
may certainly be of great use to contribute to its
preservation. They are a kind of feaffbid erected
by Ikilful workmen, after our language has been
completely built, to repair the ruins of time, and
to keep the venerable ftruflure from further decay.
The last great English dictionary will remain, as
long as the English tongue Ihall remain, a monu
ment of the learning and genius of its author; and
[ cannot better enforce the utility of the Rudies
recommended in this paper, than by concluding
it with an extract from the admirable preface to
that work ; a preface, which at once delivers the
precepts and affords the example, of a pure and
eloquent stile.
have ftudiocfly endeavoured tocolhft
examples and authorities from the writers before
the feftoration, whole works I regard as tbcwe!ls
of FngliJh undefied, as the pure feurces of the
genuine di&ion. Our language, for almost a cen
tury, has, by the concurrence of marv cau'es,
been gradually departing from its original teuton
nick character, and deviating towards a Gallick
ffru&ure and phraseology, from which it ought to
be cur endeavour to recal it, by making our anci
ent volumes the ground work of stile, admitting
among the additions of later times, only such as
may supply real deficiencies, fitch as are readily
adopted by the genius of ourtongue, and incorpo
rate easily with our native idioms.
—" From the authors which rose 'n the
time of Elizabeth, a speech might be formed
adequate to all the purpefes of ule dr d el^gaue b