his chest covered with orders and a scarf drawn round his stomach, waddled out into the porch. He put on his hat with its peaks to the sides 2 and, holding his gloves in his hand and walking with an effort sideways down the steps to the level of the street, took in his hand the report he had prepared for the Emperor.
There was running to and fro and whispering; another troyka flew furiously up, and then all eyes were turned on an approaching sleigh in which the figures of the Emperor and Volkonski could already be descried.
From the habit of fifty years all this had a physically agitating effect on the old general. He carefully and hastily felt himself all over, readjusted his hat, and pulling himself together drew himself up and, at the very moment when the Emperor, having alighted from the sleigh, lifted his eyes to him, handed him the report and began speaking in his smooth, ingratiating voice.
The Emperor with a rapid glance scanned Kutuzov from head to foot, frowned for an instant, but immediately mastering himself went up to the old man, extended his arms and embraced him. And this embrace too, owing to a long-standing impression related to his innermost feelings, had its usual effect on Kutuzov and he gave a sob.
The Emperor greeted the officers and the Semenov guard, and again pressing the old man’s hand went with him into the castle.
When alone with the field marshal the Emperor expressed his dissatisfaction at the slowness of the pursuit and at the mistakes made at Krasnoe and the Berezina, and informed him of his intentions for a future campaign abroad. Kutuzov made no rejoinder or remark. The same submissive, expressionless look with which he had listened to the Emperor’s commands on the field of Austerlitz seven years before settled on his face now.
When Kutuzov came out of the study and with lowered head was crossing the ballroom with his heavy waddling gait, he was arrested by someone’s voice saying:
“Your Serene Highness!”
Kutuzov raised his head and looked for a long while into the eyes of Count Tolstoy, who stood before him holding a silver salver on which lay a small object. Kutuzov seemed not to understand what was expected of him.
Suddenly he seemed to remember; a scarcely perceptible smile flashed across his puffy face, and bowing low and respectfully he took the object that lay on the salver. It was the Order of St. George of the First Class.3
NEXT DAY the field marshal gave a dinner and ball which the Emperor honored by his presence. Kutuzov had received the Order of St. George of the First Class and the Emperor showed him the highest honors, but everyone knew of the imperial dissatisfaction with him. The proprieties were observed and the Emperor was the first to set that example, but everybody understood that the old man was blameworthy and good-for-nothing. When Kutuzov, conforming to a custom of Catherine’s day, ordered the standards that had been captured to be lowered at the Emperor’s feet on his entering the ballroom, the Emperor made a wry face and muttered something in which some people caught the words, “the old comedian.”
The Emperor’s displeasure with Kutuzov was specially increased at Vilna by the fact that Kutuzov evidently could not or would not understand the importance of the coming campaign.
When on the following morning the Emperor said to the officers assembled about him: “You have not only saved Russia, you have saved Europe!” they all understood that the war was not ended.
Kutuzov alone would not see this and openly expressed his opinion that no fresh war could improve the position or add to the glory of Russia, but could only spoil and lower the glorious position that Russia had gained. He tried to prove to the Emperor the impossibility of levying fresh troops, spoke of the hardships already endured by the people, of the possibility of failure and so forth.
This being the field marshal’s frame of mind he was naturally regarded as merely a hindrance and obstacle to the impending war.
To avoid unpleasant encounters with the old man, the natural method was to do what had been done with him at Austerlitz and with Barclay at the beginning of the Russian campaign—to transfer the authority to the Emperor himself, thus cutting the ground from under the commander in chief’s feet without upsetting the old man by informing him of the change.
With this object his staff was gradually reconstructed and its real strength removed and transferred to the Emperor. Toll, Konovnitsyn, and Ermolov received fresh appointments. Everyone spoke loudly of the field marshal’s great weakness and failing health.
His health had to be bad for his place to be taken away and given to another. And in fact his health was poor.
So naturally, simply, and gradually—just as he had come from Turkey to the Treasury in Petersburg to recruit the militia, and then to the army when he was needed there—now when his part was played out, Kutuzov’s place was taken by a new and necessary performer.
The war of 1812, besides its national significance dear to every Russian heart, was now to assume another, a European, significance.
The movement of peoples from west to east was to be succeeded by a movement of peoples from east to west, and for this fresh war another leader was necessary, having qualities and views differing from Kutuzov’s and animated by different motives.

Alexander I was as necessary for the movement of the peoples from east to west and for the refixing of national frontiers as Kutuzov had been for the salvation and glory of Russia.
Kutuzov did not understand what Europe, the balance of power, or Napoleon meant. He could not understand it. For the representative of the Russian people, after the enemy had been destroyed and Russia had been liberated and raised to the summit of her glory, there was nothing left to do as a Russian. Nothing remained for the representative of the national war but to die, and Kutuzov died.

1. Constantine Pavlovich (1779-1831) was Alexander I’s brother. He has already been mentioned where Berg tells of being reprimanded by him during the Guards’ march to Austria. He was to some extent responsible for the disaster at Austerlitz. Mention has also been made of him at the Drissa camp, as prominent among those who regarded Napoleon as invincible and wanted to conclude peace as soon as possible.
   Constantine was personally courageous, but erratic and incompetent alike in war and politics. After marrying a Polish lady he renounced his right to the throne. The hesitation and confusion caused by the fact that this was not made public occasioned delay in proclaiming his younger brother Nicholas as Emperor, and gave occasion for the “Decembrist” revolt with which Nicholas Fs reign inauspiciously began.—A.M.
2. This passage has, excusably enough, perplexed many translators. The cocked hat (called a “three-cornered” hat, but which by Alexander’s time had in fact become a cocked hat with two peaks) was worn according to circumstances either with the peaks fore and aft or, as on this occasion, turned sideways.—A.M.
3. The Order of St. George was founded by Catherine the Great in 1 769 for distinguished exploits in war. The First Class—a very high honor, seldom given—is a star and cross attached to a ribbon.—A.M.
4. Pierre. Illness and recovery at Orël. His new attitude to life and his fellow men. His affairs. He goes to Moscow; the town’s animation and rapid recovery. Pierre meets Natásha at Princess Mary’s. Love
   AS GENERALLY HAPPENS, Pierre did not feel the full effects of the physical privation and strain he had suffered as prisoner until after they were over. After his liberation he reached Orel, and on the third day there, when preparing to go to Kiev, he fell ill and was laid up for three months. He had what the doctors termed “bilious fever.” But despite the fact that the doctors treated him, bled him, and gave him medicines to drink, he recovered.
   Scarcely any impression was left on Pierre’s mind by all that happened to him from the time of his rescue till his illness. He remembered only the dull gray weather now rainy and now snowy, internal physical distress, and pains in his feet and side. He remembered a general impression of the misfortunes and sufferings of people and of being worried by the curiosity of officers and generals who questioned him, he also remembered his difficulty in procuring a conveyance and horses, and above all he remembered his incapacity to think and feel all that time. On the day of his rescue he had seen the body of Petya Rostov. That same day he had learned that Prince Andrew, after surviving the battle of Borodino for more than a month had recently died in the Rostovs’ house at Yaroslavl, and Denisov who told him this news also mentioned Helene’s death, supposing that Pierre had heard of it long before. All this at the time seemed merely strange to Pierre: he felt he could not grasp its significance. Just then he was only anxious to get away as quickly as possible from places where people were killing one another, to some peaceful refuge where he could recover himself, rest, and think over all the strange new facts he had learned; but on reaching Orel he immediately fell ill. When he came to himself after his illness he saw in attendance on him two of his servants, Terenty and Vaska, who had come from Moscow; and also his cousin the eldest princess, who had been living on his estate at Elets and hearing of his rescue and