You know he has important connections… Well, then, you
just..’
‘I will, your excellency,’ said Timokhin, showing by his
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smile that he understood his commander’s wish.
‘Well, of course, of course!’
The regimental commander sought out Dolokhov in the
ranks and, reining in his horse, said to him:
‘After the next affair… epaulettes.’
Dolokhov looked round but did not say anything, nor
did the mocking smile on his lips change.
‘Well, that’s all right,’ continued the regimental commander. ‘A cup of vodka for the men from me,’ he added
so that the soldiers could hear. ‘I thank you all! God be
praised!’ and he rode past that company and overtook the
next one.
‘Well, he’s really a good fellow, one can serve under him,’
said Timokhin to the subaltern beside him.
‘In a word, a hearty one…’ said the subaltern, laughing (the regimental commander was nicknamed King of
Hearts).
The cheerful mood of their officers after the inspection
infected the soldiers. The company marched on gaily. The
soldiers’ voices could be heard on every side.
‘And they said Kutuzov was blind of one eye?’
‘And so he is! Quite blind!’
‘No, friend, he is sharper-eyed than you are. Boots and
leg bands… he noticed everything..’
‘When he looked at my feet, friend… well, thinks I..’
‘And that other one with him, the Austrian, looked as if
he were smeared with chalkas white as flour! I suppose they
polish him up as they do the guns.’
‘I say, Fedeshon!… Did he say when the battles are to be
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gin? You were near him. Everybody said that Buonaparte
himself was at Braunau.’
‘Buonaparte himself!… Just listen to the fool, what he
doesn’t know! The Prussians are up in arms now. The Austrians, you see, are putting them down. When they’ve been
put down, the war with Buonaparte will begin. And he says
Buonaparte is in Braunau! Shows you’re a fool. You’d better
listen more carefully!’
‘What devils these quartermasters are! See, the fifth company is turning into the village already… they will have their
buckwheat cooked before we reach our quarters.’
‘Give me a biscuit, you devil!’
‘And did you give me tobacco yesterday? That’s just it,
friend! Ah, well, never mind, here you are.’
‘They might call a halt here or we’ll have to do another
four miles without eating.’
‘Wasn’t it fine when those Germans gave us lifts! You just
sit still and are drawn along.’
‘And here, friend, the people are quite beggarly. There
they all seemed to be Polesall under the Russian crownbut
here they’re all regular Germans.’
‘Singers to the front ‘ came the captain’s order.
And from the different ranks some twenty men ran to
the front. A drummer, their leader, turned round facing
the singers, and flourishing his arm, began a long-drawnout soldiers’ song, commencing with the words: ‘Morning
dawned, the sun was rising,’ and concluding: ‘On then,
brothers, on to glory, led by Father Kamenski.’ This song
had been composed in the Turkish campaign and now be212
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ing sung in Austria, the only change being that the words
‘Father Kamenski’ were replaced by ‘Father Kutuzov.’
Having jerked out these last words as soldiers do and
waved his arms as if flinging something to the ground, the
drummera lean, handsome soldier of fortylooked sternly
at the singers and screwed up his eyes. Then having satisfied himself that all eyes were fixed on him, he raised both
arms as if carefully lifting some invisible but precious object
above his head and, holding it there for some seconds, suddenly flung it down and began:
‘Oh, my bower, oh, my bower…!’
‘Oh, my bower new…!’ chimed in twenty voices, and the
castanet player, in spite of the burden of his equipment,
rushed out to the front and, walking backwards before the
company, jerked his shoulders and flourished his castanets as if threatening someone. The soldiers, swinging their
arms and keeping time spontaneously, marched with long
steps. Behind the company the sound of wheels, the creaking of springs, and the tramp of horses’ hoofs were heard.
Kutuzov and his suite were returning to the town. The commander in chief made a sign that the men should continue
to march at ease, and he and all his suite showed pleasure at
the sound of the singing and the sight of the dancing soldier
and the gay and smartly marching men. In the second file
from the right flank, beside which the carriage passed the
company, a blue-eyed soldier involuntarily attracted notice.
It was Dolokhov marching with particular grace and boldness in time to the song and looking at those driving past as
if he pitied all who were not at that moment marching with
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the company. The hussar cornet of Kutuzov’s suite who had
mimicked the regimental commander, fell back from the
carriage and rode up to Dolokhov.
Hussar cornet Zherkov had at one time, in Petersburg,
belonged to the wild set led by Dolokhov. Zherkov had
met Dolokhov abroad as a private and had not seen fit to
recognize him. But now that Kutuzov had spoken to the
gentleman ranker, he addressed him with the cordiality of
an old friend.
‘My dear fellow, how are you?’ said he through the singing, making his horse keep pace with the company.
‘How am I?’ Dolokhov answered coldly. ‘I am as you
see.’
The lively song gave a special flavor to the tone of free
and easy gaiety with which Zherkov spoke, and to the intentional coldness of Dolokhov’s reply.
‘And how do you get on with the officers?’ inquired
Zherkov.
‘All right. They are good fellows. And how have you wriggled onto the staff?’
‘I was attached; I’m on duty.’
Both were silent.
‘She let the hawk fly upward from her wide right sleeve,’
went the song, arousing an involuntary sensation of courage and cheerfulness. Their conversation would probably
have been different but for the effect of that song.
‘Is it true that Austrians have been beaten?’ asked Dolokhov.
‘The devil only knows! They say so.’
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‘I’m glad,’ answered Dolokhov briefly and clearly, as the
song demanded.
‘I say, come round some evening and we’ll have a game
of faro!’ said Zherkov.
‘Why, have you too much money?’
‘Do come.’
‘I can’t. I’ve sworn not to. I won’t drink and won’t play till
I get reinstated.’
‘Well, that’s only till the first engagement.’
‘We shall see.’
They were again silent.
‘Come if you need anything. One can at least be of use
on the staff..’
Dolokhov smiled. ‘Don’t trouble. If I want anything, I
won’t begI’ll take it!’
‘Well, never mind; I only..’
‘And I only..’
‘Good-by.’
‘Good health..’
‘It’s
a
long,
long
way.
To my native land..’
Zherkov touched his horse with the spurs; it pranced excitedly from foot to foot uncertain with which to start, then
settled down, galloped past the company, and overtook the
carriage, still keeping time to the song.
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Chapter III
On returning from the review, Kutuzov took the Austrian general into his private room and, calling his adjutant,
asked for some papers relating to the condition of the
troops on their arrival, and the letters that had come from
the Archduke Ferdinand, who was in command of the advanced army. Prince Andrew Bolkonski came into the room
with the required papers. Kutuzov and the Austrian member of the Hofkriegsrath were sitting at the table on which a
plan was spread out.
‘Ah!…’ said Kutuzov glancing at Bolkonski as if by this
exclamation he was asking the adjutant to wait, and he went
on with the conversation in French.
‘All I can say, General,’ said he with a pleasant elegance
of expression and intonation that obliged one to listen to
each deliberately spoken word. It was evident that Kutuzov
himself listened with pleasure to his own voice. ‘All I can
say, General, is that if the matter depended on my personal
wishes, the will of His Majesty the Emperor Francis would
have been fulfilled long ago. I should long ago have joined
the archduke. And believe me on my honour that to me
personally it would be a pleasure to hand over the supreme
command of the army into the hands of a better informed
and more skillful generalof whom Austria has so manyand
to lay down all this heavy responsibility. But circumstances
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are sometimes too strong for us, General.’
And Kutuzov smiled in a way that seemed to say, ‘You
are quite at liberty not to believe me and I don’t even care
whether you do or not, but you have no grounds for telling
me so. And that is the whole point.’
The Austrian general looked dissatisfied, but had no option but to reply in the same tone.
‘On the contrary,’ he said, in a querulous and angry
tone that contrasted with his flattering words, ‘on the contrary, your excellency’s participation in the common action
is highly valued by His Majesty; but we think the present
delay is depriving the splendid Russian troops and their
commander of the laurels they have been accustomed to
win in their battles,’ he concluded his evidently prearranged
sentence.
Kutuzov bowed with the same smile.
‘But that is my conviction, and judging by the last letter with which His Highness the Archduke Ferdinand has
honored me, I imagine that the Austrian troops, under the
direction of so skillful a leader as General Mack, have by
now already gained a decisive victory and no longer need
our aid,’ said Kutuzov.
The general frowned. Though there was no definite news
of an Austrian defeat, there were many circumstances confirming the unfavorable rumors that were afloat, and so
Kutuzov’s suggestion of an Austrian victory sounded much
like irony. But Kutuzov went on blandly smiling with the
same expression, which seemed to say that he had a right to
suppose so. And, in fact, the last letter he had received from
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Mack’s army informed him of a victory and stated strategically the position of the army was very favorable.
‘Give me that letter,’ said Kutuzov turning to Prince Andrew. ‘Please have a look at it’and Kutuzov with an ironical
smile about the corners of his mouth read to the Austrian
general the following passage, in German, from the Archduke Ferdinand’s letter:
We have fully concentrated forces of nearly seventy
thousand men with which to attack and defeat the enemy
should he cross the Lech. Also, as we are masters of Ulm, we
cannot be deprived of the advantage of commanding both
sides of the Danube, so that should the enemy not cross the
Lech, we can cross the Danube, throw ourselves on his line
of communications, recross the river lower
