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Transcript
War and Peace, Books 3, Chapter 15.
Redfordrebybox.org by Eva Harnick.
At 8 o'clock, Kutuzov wrote to Pratsin at the head of the 4th column, Milaro Doviches,
the one that was to take the place of Presbyzevskis and Langeron's columns, which had already
gone down into the valley.
He greeted the men of the foremost regiment and gave them the order to march, thereby
indicating that he intended to lead the column himself.
When he had reached the village of Pratsin, he halted, Prince Andrew was behind, among
the immense number forming the commander-in-chief's suite.
He was in a state of suppressed excitement and irritation, though controllably calm as
a man is at the approach of a long awaited moment.
He was firmly convinced that this was the day of his to-lone or his bridge of Arcola.
How it would come about, he did not know.
But he felt sure it would do so.
The locality and the position of our troops were known to him as far as they could be known
to anyone in our army.
His own strategic plan, which obviously could not now be carried out, was forgotten.
Now entering into Verozov's plan, Prince Andrew considered possible contingencies and formed
new projects, such as might call for his rapidity of perception and decision.
To the left down below in the mist, the musketifier of unseen forces could be heard.
It was there, Prince Andrew sought the fight with Vodcentrate.
There we shall encounter difficulties, and there, sought he, I shall be sent with a brigade
or division, and there, standard in hand, I shall go forward and break whatever is in
front of me.
He could not look calmly at the standards of the passing battalions, seeing them he kept
thinking, that may be the very standard with which I shall leave the army.
In the morning, all that was left of the night mist on the heights was a whole frost
now turning to dew, but in the valleys it still lay like a milk-white sea.
Nothing was visible in the valley to the left, into which our troops had descended, and
from whence came the sounds of firing.
Of the heights was the dark clear sky, and to the right the vast orb of the sun.
In front, far off, on the farther shore of that sea of mist, some wooded hills were
discernible, and it was there the enemy probably was, for something could be described.
On the right the guards were entering the misty region with a sound of hooves and wheels,
and now and then a gleam of bayonets.
To the left beyond the village, similar masses of cavalry came up and disappeared in the
sea of mist.
In front and behind moved infantry.
The commander in chief was standing at the end of the village, letting the troops pass
by him.
That morning, Kutuzov singed warn and irritable.
The infantry passing before him came the halt, without any command being given, apparently
obstructed by something in front.
Do order them to form into battalion columns, and go round the village.
He said angrily to a general who had ridden up, don't you understand your excellency,
my dear sir, that you must not defile through narrow village streets, when we are marching
against the enemy?
I intended to reform them beyond the village, your excellency, answer the general.
Kutuzov laughed bitterly.
You will make a fine sing of it, deploying inside of the enemy, very fine.
The enemy is still far away, your excellency, according to the dispositions.
The dispositions exclaimed Kutuzov bitterly, who told you that?
Kindly do as you are ordered, yes sir.
My dear fellow Nesvitsky Visper to Prince Andrew, the old man is as surly as a dog.
An Austrian officer in a white uniform, with green plumes in his hat galloped up to Kutuzov,
and asked in the Emperor's name, had the force column advanced into action.
Kutuzov turned round without answering, and his eye happened to fall upon Prince Andrew,
who was beside him.
Seeing him, Kutuzov's malevolent and caustic expression softened, as if admitting that
what was being done was not his Edgerton's fault, and still not answering the Austrian
Edgerton he addressed Borkonsky.
Go my dear fellow, and see whether the Third Division has passed the village, tell it to
stop and await my orders.
Hardly had Prince Andrew started, then he stopped him, and asked whether Sharm shooters
have been posted, he added, what are they doing, what are they doing?
He murmured to himself, still not replying to the Austrian.
Prince Andrew galloped off to execute the order.
Overtaking the battalions that continued to advance, he stopped the Third Division and
convinced himself that there really were no Sharm shooters in front of our columns.
The Colonel at the head of the regiment was much surprised at the Commander-in-Chief's
order to throw out square missions.
He had felt perfectly sure that there were other troops in front of him, and that the enemy
must be at least six miles away.
There was really nothing to be seen in front, except a barren descent hidden by dense mist.
Having given orders in the Commander-in-Chief's name to rectify this submission, Prince
Andrew galloped back.
The tutus of, still in the same place, his start body resting heavily in the saddle
was the lassitude of age, set yawning, wearily, with closed eyes.
The troops were no longer moving, but stood with the butts of their muskets on the ground.
All right, all right, he set to Prince Andrew and turned to General.
Who, watching hand, was saying it was time they started as all the left-line columns
had already descended?
Plenty of time, your excellency, Mata Kutuzov in the midst of a yon, plenty of time,
he repeated.
Just then, at a distance behind Kutuzov was heard sound of regiment saluting, and this
sound rapidly came nearer along the whole extended line of the advancing Russian columns.
Evidently, the person they were greeting was riding quickly.
When the soldiers of the regiment in front of which Kutuzov was standing began to shout,
he rode a little to one side and looked round with a frown.
Along the road from Pratsyn galloped, what looked like a squadron of horsemen in various
uniforms.
Two of them rode side by side in front, at full gallop.
One in a black uniform, these white plumes in his hat, rode above their chestnut horse.
The other, who was in a white uniform, rode a black one.
These were the two emperors, followed by their suites.
Kutuzov affecting the manners of an old soldier at the front gave the command attention
and rode up to the emperors with a salute.
His whole appearance and manner were suddenly transformed.
He put on the air of a subordinate who obeys without reasoning, with an effectation of respect
which evidently struck Alexander unpleasantly, he rode up and saluted.
This unpleasant impression merely flitted over the young and happy face of the emperor,
like a cloud of haze across a clear sky and vanished.
After his illness, he looked rather thinner that day, than on the field of all moods
where Volkonsky had seen him for the first time abroad, but there was still the same
bewitching combination of majesty and madness in his fine grey eyes, and on his delicate lips
the same capacity for wearing expression and the same prevalent appearance of good-hearted
innocent use.
At the all moods review, he had seen more majestic, here he seemed brighter and more energetic.
He was slightly flushed after galloping two miles, and raining in his horse, he sighed
restfully and looked drawn at the faces of his sweet, young and animated as his own.
Start to risky, Nova Siltsev, Prince Volkonsky, Stroganov and the others all richly dressed
gay young man, on splendid well-gruned fresh, only slightly heated horses, exchanging
the marks and smiling had stopped behind the emperor.
The emperor Francis, a rosy, long-faced young man, sat very erect on his handsome black
horse, looking about him in a leisurely and preoccupied manner.
He backed to one of his white adjutants and asked some questions.
Most likely he's asking at what o'clock they started, saw Prince Andrew watching his
old acquaintance with a smile, he could not repress as he recalled his reception at
Bran.
In the Emperor's suite were the picked young orderly officers of the guard and line regiments,
Russian and Austrians, among them were grooms leading the Tsar's beautiful relay horses,
covered with embroidered cloths.
As when a window is opened, a wave of fresh air from the fields enters a stuffy room,
so a wave of usefulness, energy and confidence of success reached Kutuzov's cheerless
stuff with the galloping advent of all these brilliant young men.
Why aren't you beginning, Mikhail Ilarionovich?
Said the Emperor Alexander, hurriedly to Kutuzov, glancing courteously at the same time
at the Emperor Francis.
I'm waiting your majesty, answered Kutuzov bending forward respectfully.
The Emperor frowning slightly bent his head forward as if he had not quite heard.
Waiting your majesty, repeated Kutuzov, Prince Andrew noted that Kutuzov's upper lip twitched
unnaturally as he said the word, waiting.
Not all the columns have formed up yet, your majesty.
The Tsar had, but obviously did not like the reply.
He shrugged his rather-round shoulders and glanced at Nova Siltsev, who was near him,
as if complaining of Kutuzov.
You know, Mikhail Ilarionovich, we are not on the Empress's field where a parade
does not begin till all the troops are assembled.
Said the Tsar, with another glance at the Emperor Francis, as if inviting him, if not to join
in, at least to listen to what he was saying.
But the Emperor Francis continued to look about him and did not listen.
That is just why I do not begin Tsar, said Kutuzov in a resounding voice, apparently to
preclude the possibility of not being heard, and again something in his face twitched.
That is just why I do not begin Tsar, because we are not on parade, and not on the Empress's
field.
Said clearly and distinctly.
In the Emperor's suite, all exchange rapid locks that express dissatisfaction and reproach.
Although he may be, he should not, he certainly should not speak like that, their glances seem
to say.
The Tsar looked intently and observantly into Kutuzov's eye, waiting to hear whether
he would say anything more.
But Kutuzov, with respectfully bowed head, seemed also to be waiting.
The silence lasted for about a minute.
However, if you commanded your majesty, said Kutuzov lifting his head and again assuming
his former tone of a dull, unreasoning but submissive general.
He touched his horse and having called Miloradovich, the commander of the column gave him the
order to advance.
The troops again began to move, and two battalions of the Novgorod and one of the Asferon Regiment
went forward past Emperor.
As this Asferon battalion marched by, the red-faced Miloradovich, without his great court,
with his orders on his breast, and an enormous staff of plumes in his cocked head worn on one
side with its corners front and back galloped stenuously forward, and with a dashing salute
reigned in his horse before the Emperor.
«God be with you, general», said the Emperor.
«Mafoah, Sair, Nuforon, Suki Serra, down no through possibility, Sair.
He answered Gaeli, raising nevertheless ironic smiles among the gentlemen of the Tsar's
army, by his poor French.
Astoric indicates the translation of the French sentences as follows.
In this Sair we shall do everything it is possible to do Sair, end of quotation.
Miloradovich wheeled his horse sharply and stationed himself a little behind the Emperor.
The Asferon man, excited by the Tsar's presence, passed in step before the Emperor's and
their suites at a world-brisk pace.
Lads, shorted Miloradovich, in a loud, self-confident and cheery voice, obviously so elated by
the sound of firing, by the prospect of battle, and by the sight of the gallant Asferons,
these comrades in suvar of Stein, now passing so gallantly before the Emperor's, that
he forgot the sovereign's presence.
Lads, it's not the first village you have had to take, cried he.
Glad to do our best, shouted the soldiers.
The Emperor's horse started at the southern cry.
This horse that had carried the sovereign at reviews in Russia bore him also here on
the field of Osterlitz, enduring the heedless blows of his left foot, and pricking its ears
at the sound of shots, just as it had done on the Empress's field, not understanding
the significance of the firing, nor of the nearness of the Emperor Francis's black
cob, nor of all that was being said, sought and felt that day by its rider.
The Emperor turned with a smile to one of his followers, and made the remark to him, pointing
to the gallant Asferons.
End of chapter 15.
Recording by Eva Hanik, Pontavedra Florida.
