such as that of Ulm, or to utter destruction. But to forestall
the French with his whole army was impossible. The road
for the French from Vienna to Znaim was shorter and better than the road for the Russians from Krems to Znaim.
The night he received the news, Kutuzov sent Bagration’s
vanguard, four thousand strong, to the right across the hills
from the Krems-Znaim to the Vienna-Znaim road. Bagration was to make this march without resting, and to halt
facing Vienna with Znaim to his rear, and if he succeeded in
forestalling the French he was to delay them as long as possible. Kutuzov himself with all his transport took the road
to Znaim.
Marching thirty miles that stormy night across roadless
hills, with his hungry, ill-shod soldiers, and losing a third
of his men as stragglers by the way, Bagration came out on
the Vienna-Znaim road at Hollabrunn a few hours ahead of
the French who were approaching Hollabrunn from Vienna. Kutuzov with his transport had still to march for some
days before he could reach Znaim. Hence Bagration with
his four thousand hungry, exhausted men would have to detain for days the whole enemy army that came upon him
at Hollabrunn, which was clearly impossible. But a freak
of fate made the impossible possible. The success of the
trick that had placed the Vienna bridge in the hands of the
French without a fight led Murat to try to deceive Kutuzov
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in a similar way. Meeting Bagration’s weak detachment on
the Znaim road he supposed it to be Kutuzov’s whole army.
To be able to crush it absolutely he awaited the arrival of
the rest of the troops who were on their way from Vienna,
and with this object offered a three days’ truce on condition
that both armies should remain in position without moving. Murat declared that negotiations for peace were already
proceeding, and that he therefore offered this truce to avoid
unnecessary bloodshed. Count Nostitz, the Austrian general occupying the advanced posts, believed Murat’s emissary
and retired, leaving Bagration’s division exposed. Another
emissary rode to the Russian line to announce the peace
negotiations and to offer the Russian army the three days’
truce. Bagration replied that he was not authorized either to
accept or refuse a truce and sent his adjutant to Kutuzov to
report the offer he had received.
A truce was Kutuzov’s sole chance of gaining time, giving Bagration’s exhausted troops some rest, and letting the
transport and heavy convoys (whose movements were concealed from the French) advance if but one stage nearer
Znaim. The offer of a truce gave the only, and a quite unexpected, chance of saving the army. On receiving the news he
immediately dispatched Adjutant General Wintzingerode,
who was in attendance on him, to the enemy camp. Wintzingerode was not merely to agree to the truce but also to
offer terms of capitulation, and meanwhile Kutuzov sent his
adjutants back to hasten to the utmost the movements of the
baggage trains of the entire army along the Krems-Znaim
road. Bagration’s exhausted and hungry detachment, which
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alone covered this movement of the transport and of the
whole army, had to remain stationary in face of an enemy
eight times as strong as itself.
Kutuzov’s expectations that the proposals of capitulation (which were in no way binding) might give time for
part of the transport to pass, and also that Murat’s mistake
would very soon be discovered, proved correct. As soon as
Bonaparte (who was at Schonbrunn, sixteen miles from
Hollabrunn) received Murat’s dispatch with the proposal of
a truce and a capitulation, he detected a ruse and wrote the
following letter to Murat:
Schonbrunn, 25th Brumaire, 1805,
at eight o’clock in the morning
To PRINCE MURAT,
I cannot find words to express to you my displeasure.
You command only my advance guard, and have no right
to arrange an armistice without my order. You are causing
me to lose the fruits of a campaign. Break the armistice immediately and march on the enemy. Inform him that the
general who signed that capitulation had no right to do so,
and that no one but the Emperor of Russia has that right.
If, however, the Emperor of Russia ratifies that convention, I will ratify it; but it is only a trick. March on, destroy
the Russian army…. You are in a position to seize its baggage
and artillery.
The Russian Emperor’s aide-de-camp is an impostor. Officers are nothing when they have no powers; this one had
none…. The Austrians let themselves be tricked at the crossing of the Vienna bridge, you are letting yourself be tricked
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by an aide-de-camp of the Emperor.
NAPOLEON
Bonaparte’s adjutant rode full gallop with this menacing
letter to Murat. Bonaparte himself, not trusting to his generals, moved with all the Guards to the field of battle, afraid
of letting a ready victim escape, and Bagration’s four thousand men merrily lighted campfires, dried and warmed
themselves, cooked their porridge for the first time for three
days, and not one of them knew or imagined what was in
store for him.
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Chapter XV
Between three and four o’clock in the afternoon Prince
Andrew, who had persisted in his request to Kutuzov, arrived
at Grunth and reported himself to Bagration. Bonaparte’s
adjutant had not yet reached Murat’s detachment and the
battle had not yet begun. In Bagration’s detachment no one
knew anything of the general position of affairs. They talked
of peace but did not believe in its possibility; others talked
of a battle but also disbelieved in the nearness of an engagement. Bagration, knowing Bolkonski to be a favorite and
trusted adjutant, received him with distinction and special
marks of favor, explaining to him that there would probably
be an engagement that day or the next, and giving him full
liberty to remain with him during the battle or to join the
rearguard and have an eye on the order of retreat, ‘which is
also very important.’
‘However, there will hardly be an engagement today,’
said Bagration as if to reassure Prince Andrew.
‘If he is one of the ordinary little staff dandies sent to
earn a medal he can get his reward just as well in the rearguard, but if he wishes to stay with me, let him… he’ll be of
use here if he’s a brave officer,’ thought Bagration. Prince
Andrew, without replying, asked the prince’s permission to
ride round the position to see the disposition of the forces,
so as to know his bearings should he be sent to execute an
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order. The officer on duty, a handsome, elegantly dressed
man with a diamond ring on his forefinger, who was fond
of speaking French though he spoke it badly, offered to conduct Prince Andrew.
On all sides they saw rain-soaked officers with dejected faces who seemed to be seeking something, and soldiers
dragging doors, benches, and fencing from the village.
‘There now, Prince! We can’t stop those fellows,’ said the
staff officer pointing to the soldiers. ‘The officers don’t keep
them in hand. And there,’ he pointed to a sutler’s tent, ‘they
crowd in and sit. This morning I turned them all out and
now look, it’s full again. I must go there, Prince, and scare
them a bit. It won’t take a moment.’
‘Yes, let’s go in and I will get myself a roll and some
cheese,’ said Prince Andrew who had not yet had time to
eat anything.
‘Why didn’t you mention it, Prince? I would have offered
you something.’
They dismounted and entered the tent. Several officers,
with flushed and weary faces, were sitting at the table eating
and drinking.
‘Now what does this mean, gentlemen?’ said the staff officer, in the reproachful tone of a man who has repeated
the same thing more than once. ‘You know it won’t do to
leave your posts like this. The prince gave orders that no one
should leave his post. Now you, Captain,’ and he turned to
a thin, dirty little artillery officer who without his boots (he
had given them to the canteen keeper to dry), in only his
stockings, rose when they entered, smiling not altogether
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comfortably.
‘Well, aren’t you ashamed of yourself, Captain Tushin?’
he continued. ‘One would think that as an artillery officer
you would set a good example, yet here you are without your
boots! The alarm will be sounded and you’ll be in a pretty position without your boots!’ (The staff officer smiled.)
‘Kindly return to your posts, gentlemen, all of you, all!’ he
added in a tone of command.
Prince Andrew smiled involuntarily as he looked at the
artillery officer Tushin, who silent and smiling, shifting
from one stockinged foot to the other, glanced inquiringly
with his large, intelligent, kindly eyes from Prince Andrew
to the staff officer.
‘The soldiers say it feels easier without boots,’ said Captain Tushin smiling shyly in his uncomfortable position,
evidently wishing to adopt a jocular tone. But before he had
finished he felt that his jest was unacceptable and had not
come off. He grew confused.
‘Kindly return to your posts,’ said the staff officer trying
to preserve his gravity.
Prince Andrew glanced again at the artillery officer’s
small figure. There was something peculiar about it, quite
unsoldierly, rather comic, but extremely attractive.
The staff officer and Prince Andrew mounted their horses and rode on.
Having ridden beyond the village, continually meeting
and overtaking soldiers and officers of various regiments,
they saw on their left some entrenchments being thrown
up, the freshly dug clay of which showed up red. Several
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battalions of soldiers, in their shirt sleeves despite the cold
wind, swarmed in these earthworks like a host of white
ants; spadefuls of red clay were continually being thrown up
from behind the bank by unseen hands. Prince Andrew and
the officer rode up, looked at the entrenchment, and went
on again. Just behind it they came upon some dozens of
soldiers, continually replaced by others, who ran from the
entrenchment. They had to hold their noses and put their
horses to a trot to escape from the poisoned atmosphere of
these latrines.
‘Voila l’agrement des camps, monsieur le Prince,’* said
the staff officer.
*”This is a pleasure one gets in camp, Prince.’
They rode up the opposite hill. From there the French
could already be seen. Prince Andrew stopped and began
examining the position.
‘That’s our battery,’ said the staff officer indicating the
highest point. ‘It’s in charge of the queer fellow we saw
