Book Ten: 1812 - Chapter XV

by Leo Tolstoy

　　On receiving command of the armies Kutuzov remembered PrinceAndrew and sent an order for him to report at headquarters.

　　Prince Andrew arrived at Tsarevo-Zaymishche on the very day and atthe very hour that Kutuzov was reviewing the troops for the firsttime. He stopped in the village at the priest's house in front ofwhich stood the commander in chief's carriage, and he sat down onthe bench at the gate awaiting his Serene Highness, as everyone nowcalled Kutuzov. From the field beyond the village came now sounds ofregimental music and now the roar of many voices shouting "Hurrah!" tothe new commander in chief. Two orderlies, a courier and a major-domo,stood near by, some ten paces from Prince Andrew, availingthemselves of Kutuzov's absence and of the fine weather. A short,swarthy lieutenant colonel of hussars with thick mustaches andwhiskers rode up to the gate and, glancing at Prince Andrew,inquired whether his Serene Highness was putting up there andwhether he would soon be back.

　　Prince Andrew replied that he was not on his Serene Highness'staff but was himself a new arrival. The lieutenant colonel turnedto a smart orderly, who, with the peculiar contempt with which acommander in chief's orderly speaks to officers, replied:

　　"What? His Serene Highness? I expect he'll be here soon. What do youwant?"

　　The lieutenant colonel of hussars smiled beneath his mustache at theorderly's tone, dismounted, gave his horse to a dispatch runner, andapproached Bolkonski with a slight bow. Bolkonski made room for him onthe bench and the lieutenant colonel sat down beside him.

　　"You're also waiting for the commander in chief?" said he. "They sayhe weceives evewyone, thank God!... It's awful with those sausageeaters! Ermolov had weason to ask to be pwomoted to be a German! Nowp'waps Wussians will get a look in. As it was, devil only knows whatwas happening. We kept wetweating and wetweating. Did you take part inthe campaign?" he asked.

　　"I had the pleasure," replied Prince Andrew, "not only of takingpart in the retreat but of losing in that retreat all I held dear- notto mention the estate and home of my birth- my father, who died ofgrief. I belong to the province of Smolensk."

　　"Ah? You're Pwince Bolkonski? Vewy glad to make your acquaintance!I'm Lieutenant Colonel Denisov, better known as 'Vaska,'" saidDenisov, pressing Prince Andrew's hand and looking into his facewith a particularly kindly attention. "Yes, I heard," said hesympathetically, and after a short pause added: "Yes, it's Scythianwarfare. It's all vewy well- only not for those who get it in theneck. So you are Pwince Andwew Bolkonski?" He swayed his head. "Vewypleased, Pwince, to make your acquaintance!" he repeated again,smiling sadly, and he again pressed Prince Andrew's hand.

　　Prince Andrew knew Denisov from what Natasha had told him of herfirst suitor. This memory carried him sadly and sweetly back tothose painful feelings of which he had not thought lately, but whichstill found place in his soul. Of late he had received so many new andvery serious impressions- such as the retreat from Smolensk, his visitto Bald Hills, and the recent news of his father's death- and hadexperienced so many emotions, that for a long time past those memorieshad not entered his mind, and now that they did, they did not act onhim with nearly their former strength. For Denisov, too, thememories awakened by the name of Bolkonski belonged to a distant,romantic past, when after supper and after Natasha's singing he hadproposed to a little girl of fifteen without realizing what he wasdoing. He smiled at the recollection of that time and of his lovefor Natasha, and passed at once to what now interested himpassionately and exclusively. This was a plan of campaign he haddevised while serving at the outposts during the retreat. He hadproposed that plan to Barclay de Tolly and now wished to propose it toKutuzov. The plan was based on the fact that the French line ofoperation was to extended, and it proposed that instead of, orconcurrently with, action on the front to bar the advance of theFrench, we should attack their line of communication. He beganexplaining his plan to Prince Andrew.

　　"They can't hold all that line. It's impossible. I will undertake tobweak thwough. Give me five hundwed men and I will bweak the line,that's certain! There's only one way- guewilla warfare!"

　　Denisov rose and began gesticulating as he explained his plan toBolkonski. In the midst of his explanation shouts were heard fromthe army, growing more incoherent and more diffused, mingling withmusic and songs and coming from the field where the review was held.Sounds of hoofs and shouts were nearing the village.

　　"He's coming! He's coming!" shouted a Cossack standing at the gate.

　　Bolkonski and Denisov moved to the gate, at which a knot of soldiers(a guard of honor) was standing, and they saw Kutuzov coming downthe street mounted on a rather small sorrel horse. A huge suite ofgenerals rode behind him. Barclay was riding almost beside him, anda crowd of officers ran after and around them shouting, "Hurrah!"

　　His adjutants galloped into the yard before him. Kutuzov wasimpatiently urging on his horse, which ambled smoothly under hisweight, and he raised his hand to his white Horse Guard's cap with ared band and no peak, nodding his head continually. When he came up tothe guard of honor, a fine set of Grenadiers mostly wearingdecorations, who were giving him the salute, he looked at themsilently and attentively for nearly a minute with the steady gaze of acommander and then turned to the crowd of generals and officerssurrounding him. Suddenly his face assumed a subtle expression, heshrugged his shoulders with an air of perplexity.

　　"And with such fine fellows to retreat and retreat! Well, good-by,General," he added, and rode into the yard past Prince Andrew andDenisov.

　　"Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!" shouted those behind him.

　　Since Prince Andrew had last seen him Kutuzov had grown still morecorpulent, flaccid, and fat. But the bleached eyeball, the scar, andthe familiar weariness of his expression were still the same. He waswearing the white Horse Guard's cap and a military overcoat with awhip hanging over his shoulder by a thin strap. He sat heavily andswayed limply on his brisk little horse.

　　"Whew... whew... whew!" he whistled just audibly as he rode into theyard. His face expressed the relief of relaxed strain felt by a manwho means to rest after a ceremony. He drew his left foot out of thestirrup and, lurching with his whole body and puckering his facewith the effort, raised it with difficulty onto the saddle, leanedon his knee, groaned, and slipped down into the arms of the Cossacksand adjutants who stood ready to assist him.

　　He pulled himself together, looked round, screwing up his eyes,glanced at Prince Andrew, and, evidently not recognizing him, movedwith his waddling gait to the porch. "Whew... whew... whew!" hewhistled, and again glanced at Prince Andrew. As often occurs with oldmen, it was only after some seconds that the impression produced byPrince Andrew's face linked itself up with Kutuzov's remembrance ofhis personality.

　　"Ah, how do you do, my dear prince? How do you do, my dear boy? Comealong..." said he, glancing wearily round, and he stepped onto theporch which creaked under his weight.

　　He unbuttoned his coat and sat down on a bench in the porch.

　　"And how's your father?"

　　"I received news of his death, yesterday," replied Prince Andrewabruptly.

　　Kutuzov looked at him with eyes wide open with dismay and thentook off his cap and crossed himself:

　　"May the kingdom of Heaven be his! God's will be done to us all!" Hesighed deeply, his whole chest heaving, and was silent for a while. "Iloved him and respected him, and sympathize with you with all myheart."

　　He embraced Prince Andrew, pressing him to his fat breast, and forsome time did not let him go. When he released him Prince Andrew sawthat Kutuzov's flabby lips were trembling and that tears were in hiseyes. He sighed and pressed on the bench with both hands to raisehimself.

　　"Come! Come with me, we'll have a talk," said he.

　　But at that moment Denisov, no more intimidated by his superiorsthan by the enemy, came with jingling spurs up the steps of the porch,despite the angry whispers of the adjutants who tried to stop him.Kutuzov, his hands still pressed on the seat, glanced at him glumly.Denisov, having given his name, announced that he had to communicateto his Serene Highness a matter of great importance for theircountry's welfare. Kutuzov looked wearily at him and, lifting hishands with a gesture of annoyance, folded them across his stomach,repeating the words: "For our country's welfare? Well, what is it?Speak!" Denisov blushed like a girl (it was strange to see the colorrise in that shaggy, bibulous, time-worn face) and boldly began toexpound his plan of cutting the enemy's lines of communication betweenSmolensk and Vyazma. Denisov came from those parts and knew thecountry well. His plan seemed decidedly a good one, especially fromthe strength of conviction with which he spoke. Kutuzov looked down athis own legs, occasionally glancing at the door of the adjoining hutas if expecting something unpleasant to emerge from it. And fromthat hut, while Denisov was speaking, a general with a portfolio underhis arm really did appear.

　　"What?" said Kutuzov, in the midst of Denisov's explanations, "areyou ready so soon?"

　　"Ready, your Serene Highness," replied the general.

　　Kutuzov swayed his head, as much as to say: "How is one man todeal with it all?" and again listened to Denisov.

　　"I give my word of honor as a Wussian officer," said Denisov,"that I can bweak Napoleon's line of communication!"

　　"What relation are you to Intendant General Kiril AndreevichDenisov?" asked Kutuzov, interrupting him.

　　"He is my uncle, your Sewene Highness."

　　"Ah, we were friends," said Kutuzov cheerfully. "All right, allright, friend, stay here at the staff and tomorrow we'll have a talk."

　　With a nod to Denisov he turned away and put out his hand for thepapers Konovnitsyn had brought him.

　　"Would not your Serene Highness like to come inside?" said thegeneral on duty in a discontented voice, "the plans must be examinedand several papers have to be signed."

　　An adjutant came out and announced that everything was inreadiness within. But Kutuzov evidently did not wish to enter thatroom till he was disengaged. He made a grimace...

　　"No, tell them to bring a small table out here, my dear boy. I'lllook at them here," said he. "Don't go away," he added, turning toPrince Andrew, who remained in the porch and listened to the general'sreport.

　　While this was being given, Prince Andrew heard the whisper of awoman's voice and the rustle of a silk dress behind the door.Several times on glancing that way he noticed behind that door aplump, rosy, handsome woman in a pink dress with a lilac silk kerchiefon her head, holding a dish and evidently awaiting the entrance of thecommander in chief. Kutiizov's adjutant whispered to Prince Andrewthat this was the wife of the priest whose home it was, and that sheintended to offer his Serene Highness bread and salt. "Her husband haswelcomed his Serene Highness with the cross at the church, and sheintends to welcome him in the house.... She's very pretty," addedthe adjutant with a smile. At those words Kutuzov looked round. He waslistening to the general's report- which consisted chiefly of acriticism of the position at Tsarevo-Zaymishche- as he had listened toDenisov, and seven years previously had listened to the discussionat the Austerlitz council of war. He evidently listened only becausehe had ears which, though there was a piece of tow in one of them,could not help hearing; but it was evident that nothing the generalcould say would surprise or even interest him, that he knew all thatwould be said beforehand, and heard it all only because he had to,as one has to listen to the chanting of a service of prayer. Allthat Denisov had said was clever and to the point. What the generalwas saying was even more clever and to the point, but it was evidentthat Kutuzov despised knowledge and cleverness, and knew ofsomething else that would decide the matter- something independentof clever. ness and knowledge. Prince Andrew watched the commanderin chief's face attentively, and the only expression he could seethere was one of boredom, curiosity as to the meaning of thefeminine whispering behind the door, and a desire to observepropriety. It was evident that Kutuzov despised cleverness andlearning and even the patriotic feeling shown by Denisov, but despisedthem not because of his own intellect, feelings, or knowledge- hedid not try to display any of these- but because of something else. Hedespised them because of his old age and experience of life. Theonly instruction Kutuzov gave of his own accord during that reportreferred to looting by the Russian troops. At the end of the reportthe general put before him for signature a paper relating to therecovery of payment from army commanders for green oats mown down bythe soldiers, when landowners lodged petitions for compensation.

　　After hearing the matter, Kutuzov smacked his lips together andshook his head.

　　"Into the stove... into the fire with it! I tell you once for all,my dear fellow," said he, "into the fire with all such things! Letthem cut the crops and burn wood to their hearts' content. I don'torder it or allow it, but I don't exact compensation either. One can'tget on without it. 'When wood is chopped the chips will fly.'" Helooked at the paper again. "Oh, this German precision!" he muttered,shaking his head.