Book Fifteen: 1812-13 - Chapter VI

by Leo Tolstoy

　　The fifth of November was the first day of what is called the battleof Krasnoe. Toward evening- after much disputing and many mistakesmade by generals who did not go to their proper places, and afteradjutants had been sent about with counterorders- when it had becomeplain that the enemy was everywhere in flight and that there could andwould be no battle, Kutuzov left Krasnoe and went to Dobroe whitherhis headquarters had that day been transferred.

　　The day was clear and frosty. Kutuzov rode to Dobroe on his plumplittle white horse, followed by an enormous suite of discontentedgenerals who whispered among themselves behind his back. All along theroad groups of French prisoners captured that day (there were seventhousand of them) were crowding to warm themselves at campfires.Near Dobroe an immense crowd of tattered prisoners, buzzing withtalk and wrapped and bandaged in anything they had been able to gethold of, were standing in the road beside a long row of unharnessedFrench guns. At the approach of the commander in chief the buzz oftalk ceased and all eyes were fixed on Kutuzov who, wearing a whitecap with a red band and a padded overcoat that bulged on his roundshoulders, moved slowly along the road on his white horse. One ofthe generals was reporting to him where the guns and prisoners hadbeen captured.

　　Kutuzov seemed preoccupied and did not listen to what the generalwas saying. He screwed up his eyes with a dissatisfied look as hegazed attentively and fixedly at these prisoners, who presented aspecially wretched appearance. Most of them were disfigured byfrost-bitten noses and cheeks, and nearly all had red, swollen andfestering eyes.

　　One group of the French stood close to the road, and two of them,one of whom had his face covered with sores, were tearing a piece ofraw flesh with their hands. There was something horrible and bestialin the fleeting glance they threw at the riders and in themalevolent expression with which, after a glance at Kutuzov, thesoldier with the sores immediately turned away and went on with whathe was doing.

　　Kutuzov looked long and intently at these two soldiers. Hepuckered his face, screwed up his eyes, and pensively swayed his head.At another spot he noticed a Russian soldier laughingly patting aFrenchman on the shoulder, saying something to him in a friendlymanner, and Kutuzov with the same expression on his face againswayed his head.

　　"What were you saying?" he asked the general, who continuing hisreport directed the commander in chief's attention to some standardscaptured from the French and standing in front of the Preobrazhenskregiment.

　　"Ah, the standards!" said Kutuzov, evidently detaching himselfwith difficulty from the thoughts that preoccupied him.

　　He looked about him absently. Thousands of eyes were looking athim from all sides awaiting a word from him.

　　He stopped in front of the Preobrazhensk regiment, sighed deeply,and closed his eyes. One of his suite beckoned to the soldierscarrying the standards to advance and surround the commander inchief with them. Kutuzov was silent for a few seconds and then,submitting with evident reluctance to the duty imposed by hisposition, raised his head and began to speak. A throng of officerssurrounded him. He looked attentively around at the circle ofofficers, recognizing several of them.

　　"I thank you all!" he said, addressing the soldiers and then againthe officers. In the stillness around him his slowly uttered wordswere distinctly heard. "I thank you all for your hard and faithfulservice. The victory is complete and Russia will not forget you! Honorto you forever."

　　He paused and looked around.

　　"Lower its head, lower it!" he said to a soldier who hadaccidentally lowered the French eagle he was holding before thePreobrazhensk standards. "Lower, lower, that's it. Hurrah lads!" headded, addressing the men with a rapid movement of his chin.

　　"Hur-r-rah!" roared thousands of voices.

　　While the soldiers were shouting Kutuzov leaned forward in hissaddle and bowed his head, and his eye lit up with a mild andapparently ironic gleam.

　　"You see, brothers..." said he when the shouts had ceased... and allat once his voice and the expression of his face changed. It was nolonger the commander in chief speaking but an ordinary old man whowanted to tell his comrades something very important.

　　There was a stir among the throng of officers and in the ranks ofthe soldiers, who moved that they might hear better what he wasgoing to say.

　　"You see, brothers, I know it's hard for you, but it can't behelped! Bear up; it won't be for long now! We'll see our visitorsoff and then we'll rest. The Tsar won't forget your service. It ishard for you, but still you are at home while they- you see whatthey have come to," said he, pointing to the prisoners. "Worse offthan our poorest beggars. While they were strong we didn't spareourselves, but now we may even pity them. They are human beings too.Isn't it so, lads?"

　　He looked around, and in the direct, respectful, wondering gazefixed upon him he read sympathy with what he had said. His face grewbrighter and brighter with an old man's mild smile, which drew thecorners of his lips and eyes into a cluster of wrinkles. He ceasedspeaking and bowed his head as if in perplexity.

　　"But after all who asked them here? Serves them right, the bloodybastards!" he cried, suddenly lifting his head.

　　And flourishing his whip he rode off at a gallop for the firsttime during the whole campaign, and left the broken ranks of thesoldiers laughing joyfully and shouting "Hurrah!"

　　Kutuzov's words were hardly understood by the troops. No one couldhave repeated the field marshal's address, begun solemnly and thenchanging into an old man's simplehearted talk; but the heartysincerity of that speech, the feeling of majestic triumph combinedwith pity for the foe and consciousness of the justice of our cause,exactly expressed by that old man's good-natured expletives, was notmerely understood but lay in the soul of every soldier and foundexpression in their joyous and long-sustained shouts. Afterwardswhen one of the generals addressed Kutuzov asking whether he wishedhis caleche to be sent for, Kutuzov in answering unexpectedly gave asob, being evidently greatly moved.