Book Two: 1805 - Chapter XIII

by Leo Tolstoy

　　That same night, having taken leave of the Minister of War,Bolkonski set off to rejoin the army, not knowing where he wouldfind it and fearing to be captured by the French on the way to Krems.

　　In Brunn everybody attached to the court was packing up, and theheavy baggage was already being dispatched to Olmutz. Near HetzelsdorfPrince Andrew struck the high road along which the Russian army wasmoving with great haste and in the greatest disorder. The road wasso obstructed with carts that it was impossible to get by in acarriage. Prince Andrew took a horse and a Cossack from a Cossackcommander, and hungry and weary, making his way past the baggagewagons, rode in search of the commander in chief and of his ownluggage. Very sinister reports of the position of the army reached himas he went along, and the appearance of the troops in their disorderlyflight confirmed these rumors.

　　"Cette armee russe que l'or de l'Angleterre a transportee desextremites de l'univers, nous allons lui faire eprouver le memesort- (le sort de l'armee d'Ulm)."* He remembered these words inBonaparte's address to his army at the beginning of the campaign,and they awoke in him astonishment at the genius of his hero, afeeling of wounded pride, and a hope of glory. "And should there benothing left but to die?" he thought. "Well, if need be, I shall do itno worse than others."

　　*"That Russian army which has been brought from the ends of theearth by English gold, we shall cause to share the same fate- (thefate of the army at Ulm)."

　　He looked with disdain at the endless confused mass ofdetachments, carts, guns, artillery, and again baggage wagons andvehicles of all kinds overtaking one another and blocking the muddyroad, three and sometimes four abreast. From all sides, behind andbefore, as far as ear could reach, there were the rattle of wheels,the creaking of carts and gun carriages, the tramp of horses, thecrack of whips, shouts, the urging of horses, and the swearing ofsoldiers, orderlies, and officers. All along the sides of the roadfallen horses were to be seen, some flayed, some not, andbroken-down carts beside which solitary soldiers sat waiting forsomething, and again soldiers straggling from their companies,crowds of whom set off to the neighboring villages, or returned fromthem dragging sheep, fowls, hay, and bulging sacks. At each ascentor descent of the road the crowds were yet denser and the din ofshouting more incessant. Soldiers floundering knee-deep in mudpushed the guns and wagons themselves. Whips cracked, hoofs slipped,traces broke, and lungs were strained with shouting. The officersdirecting the march rode backward and forward between the carts. Theirvoices were but feebly heard amid the uproar and one saw by theirfaces that they despaired of the possibility of checking thisdisorder.

　　"Here is our dear Orthodox Russian army," thought Bolkonski,recalling Bilibin's words.

　　Wishing to find out where the commander in chief was, he rode upto a convoy. Directly opposite to him came a strange one-horsevehicle, evidently rigged up by soldiers out of any availablematerials and looking like something between a cart, a cabriolet,and a caleche. A soldier was driving, and a woman enveloped inshawls sat behind the apron under the leather hood of the vehicle.Prince Andrew rode up and was just putting his question to a soldierwhen his attention was diverted by the desperate shrieks of thewoman in the vehicle. An officer in charge of transport was beatingthe soldier who was driving the woman's vehicle for trying to getahead of others, and the strokes of his whip fell on the apron ofthe equipage. The woman screamed piercingly. Seeing Prince Andrewshe leaned out from behind the apron and, waving her thin arms fromunder the woolen shawl, cried:

　　"Mr. Aide-de-camp! Mr. Aide-de-camp!... For heaven's sake... Protectme! What will become of us? I am the wife of the doctor of the SeventhChasseurs.... They won't let us pass, we are left behind and have lostour people..."

　　"I'll flatten you into a pancake!" shouted the angry officer tothe soldier. "Turn back with your slut!"

　　"Mr. Aide-de-camp! Help me!... What does it all mean?" screamedthe doctor's wife.

　　"Kindly let this cart pass. Don't you see it's a woman?" said PrinceAndrew riding up to the officer.

　　The officer glanced at him, and without replying turned again to thesoldier. "I'll teach you to push on!... Back!"

　　"Let them pass, I tell you!" repeated Prince Andrew, compressing hislips.

　　"And who are you?" cried the officer, turning on him with tipsyrage, "who are you? Are you in command here? Eh? I am commanderhere, not you! Go back or I'll flatten you into a pancake," repeatedhe. This expression evidently pleased him.

　　"That was a nice snub for the little aide-de-camp," came a voicefrom behind.

　　Prince Andrew saw that the officer was in that state of senseless,tipsy rage when a man does not know what he is saying. He saw that hischampionship of the doctor's wife in her queer trap might expose himto what he dreaded more than anything in the world- to ridicule; buthis instinct urged him on. Before the officer finished his sentencePrince Andrew, his face distorted with fury, rode up to him and raisedhis riding whip.

　　"Kind...ly let- them- pass!"

　　The officer flourished his arm and hastily rode away.

　　"It's all the fault of these fellows on the staff that there'sthis disorder," he muttered. "Do as you like."

　　Prince Andrew without lifting his eyes rode hastily away from thedoctor's wife, who was calling him her deliverer, and recalling with asense of disgust the minutest details of this humiliating scene hegalloped on to the village where he was told that the commander inchief was.

　　On reaching the village he dismounted and went to the nearest house,intending to rest if but for a moment, eat something, and try tosort out the stinging and tormenting thoughts that confused hismind. "This is a mob of scoundrels and not an army," he was thinkingas he went up to the window of the first house, when a familiarvoice called him by name.

　　He turned round. Nesvitski's handsome face looked out of thelittle window. Nesvitski, moving his moist lips as he chewedsomething, and flourishing his arm, called him to enter.

　　"Bolkonski! Bolkonski!... Don't you hear? Eh? Come quick..." heshouted.

　　Entering the house, Prince Andrew saw Nesvitski and another adjutanthaving something to eat. They hastily turned round to him asking if hehad any news. On their familiar faces he read agitation and alarm.This was particularly noticeable on Nesvitski's usually laughingcountenance.

　　"Where is the commander in chief?" asked Bolkonski.

　　"Here, in that house," answered the adjutant.

　　"Well, is it true that it's peace and capitulation?" askedNesvitski.

　　"I was going to ask you. I know nothing except that it was all Icould do to get here."

　　"And we, my dear boy! It's terrible! I was wrong to laugh at Mack,we're getting it still worse," said Nesvitski. "But sit down andhave something to eat."

　　"You won't be able to find either your baggage or anything else now,Prince. And God only knows where your man Peter is," said the otheradjutant.

　　"Where are headquarters?"

　　"We are to spend the night in Znaim."

　　"Well, I have got all I need into packs for two horses," saidNesvitski. "They've made up splendid packs for me- fit to cross theBohemian mountains with. It's a bad lookout, old fellow! But what'sthe matter with you? You must be ill to shiver like that," he added,noticing that Prince Andrew winced as at an electric shock.

　　"It's nothing," replied Prince Andrew.

　　He had just remembered his recent encounter with the doctor's wifeand the convoy officer.

　　"What is the commander in chief doing here?" he asked.

　　"I can't make out at all," said Nesvitski.

　　"Well, all I can make out is that everything is abominable,abominable, quite abominable!" said Prince Andrew, and he went offto the house where the commander in chief was.

　　Passing by Kutuzov's carriage and the exhausted saddle horses of hissuite, with their Cossacks who were talking loudly together, PrinceAndrew entered the passage. Kutuzov himself, he was told, was in thehouse with Prince Bagration and Weyrother. Weyrother was theAustrian general who had succeeded Schmidt. In the passage littleKozlovski was squatting on his heels in front of a clerk. The clerk,with cuffs turned up, was hastily writing at a tub turned bottomupwards. Kozlovski's face looked worn- he too had evidently notslept all night. He glanced at Prince Andrew and did not even nod tohim.

　　"Second line... have you written it?" he continued dictating tothe clerk. "The Kiev Grenadiers, Podolian..."

　　"One can't write so fast, your honor," said the clerk, glancingangrily and disrespectfully at Kozlovski.

　　Through the door came the sounds of Kutuzov's voice, excited anddissatisfied, interrupted by another, an unfamiliar voice. From thesound of these voices, the inattentive way Kozlovski looked at him,the disrespectful manner of the exhausted clerk, the fact that theclerk and Kozlovski were squatting on the floor by a tub so near tothe commander in chief, and from the noisy laughter of the Cossacksholding the horses near the window, Prince Andrew felt thatsomething important and disastrous was about to happen.

　　He turned to Kozlovski with urgent questions.

　　"Immediately, Prince," said Kozlovski. "Dispositions for Bagration."

　　"What about capitulation?"

　　"Nothing of the sort. Orders are issued for a battle."

　　Prince Andrew moved toward the door from whence voices were heard.Just as he was going to open it the sounds ceased, the door opened,and Kutuzov with his eagle nose and puffy face appeared in thedoorway. Prince Andrew stood right in front of Kutuzov but theexpression of the commander in chief's one sound eye showed him tobe so preoccupied with thoughts and anxieties as to be oblivious ofhis presence. He looked straight at his adjutant's face withoutrecognizing him.

　　"Well, have you finished?" said he to Kozlovski.

　　"One moment, your excellency."

　　Bagration, a gaunt middle-aged man of medium height with a firm,impassive face of Oriental type, came out after the commander inchief.

　　"I have the honor to present myself," repeated Prince Andrewrather loudly, handing Kutuzov an envelope.

　　Ah, from Vienna? Very good. Later, later!"

　　Kutuzov went out into the porch with Bagration.

　　"Well, good-by, Prince," said he to Bagration. "My blessing, and mayChrist be with you in your great endeavor!"

　　His face suddenly softened and tears came into his eyes. With hisleft hand he drew Bagration toward him, and with his right, on whichhe wore a ring, he made the sign of the cross over him with agesture evidently habitual, offering his puffy cheek, but Bagrationkissed him on the neck instead.

　　"Christ be with you!" Kutuzov repeated and went toward his carriage."Get in with me," said he to Bolkonski.

　　"Your excellency, I should like to be of use here. Allow me toremain with Prince Bagration's detachment."

　　"Get in," said Kutuzov, and noticing that Bolkonski still delayed,he added: "I need good officers myself, need them myself!"

　　They got into the carriage and drove for a few minutes in silence.

　　"There is still much, much before us," he said, as if with an oldman's penetration he understood all that was passing in Bolkonski'smind. "If a tenth part of his detachment returns I shall thank God,"he added as if speaking to himself.

　　Prince Andrew glanced at Kutuzov's face only a foot distant from himand involuntarily noticed the carefully washed seams of the scarnear his temple, where an Ismail bullet had pierced his skull, and theempty eye socket. "Yes, he has a right to speak so calmly of thosemen's death," thought Bolkonski.

　　"That is why I beg to be sent to that detachment," he said.

　　Kutuzov did not reply. He seemed to have forgotten what he hadbeen saying, and sat plunged in thought. Five minutes later, gentlyswaying on the soft springs of the carriage, he turned to PrinceAndrew. There was not a trace of agitation on his face. Withdelicate irony he questioned Prince Andrew about the details of hisinterview with the Emperor, about the remarks he had heard at courtconcerning the Krems affair, and about some ladies they both knew.