War And Peace: Book 2 - CHAPTER IX

作者: Leo Tolstoy

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Author: Leo Tolstoy

PURSUED by the French army of a hundred thousand men under the command of

Bonaparte, received with hostility by the inhabitants, losing confidence in

their allies, suffering from shortness of supplies, and forced to act under

circumstances unlike anything that had been foreseen, the Russian army of

thirty-five thousand men, under the command of Kutuzov, beat a hasty retreat to

the lower ground about the Danube. There they halted, and were overtaken by the

enemy, and fought a few rear-guard skirmishes, avoiding an engagement, except in

so far as it was necessary to secure a retreat without the loss of their baggage

and guns. There were actions at Lambach, at Amsteten, and at Melk; but in spite

of the courage and stubbornness—acknowledged even by the enemy—with which the

Russians fought, the only consequence of these engagements was a still more

rapid retreat. The Austrian troops that had escaped being taken at Ulm, and had

joined Kutuzov's forces at Braunau, now parted from the Russian army, and

Kutuzov was left unsupported with his weak and exhausted forces. The defence of

Vienna could no longer be dreamed of. Instead of the elaborately planned

campaign of attack, in accordance with the principles of the modern science of

strategy, the plan of which had been communicated to Kutuzov during his sojourn

in Vienna by the Austrian Hofkriegsrath, the sole aim—almost a hopeless one—that

remained now for Kutuzov was to avoid losing his army, like Mack at Ulm, and to

effect a junction with the fresh troops marching from Russia.

On the 28th of October, Kutuzov took his army across to the left bank of the

Danube, and then for the first time halted, leaving the Danube between his army

and the greater part of the enemy's forces. On the 30th he attacked Mortier's

division, which was on the left bank of the Danube, and defeated it. In this

action for the first time trophies were taken—a flag, cannons, and two of the

enemy's generals. For the first time, after retreating for a fortnight, the

Russian troops had halted, and after fighting had not merely kept the field of

battle, but had driven the French off it. Although the troops were without

clothing and exhausted, and had lost a third of their strength in wounded,

killed, and missing; although they had left their sick and wounded behind on the

other side of the Danube, with a letter from Kutuzov commending them to the

humanity of the enemy; although the great hospitals and houses in Krems could

not contain all the sick and wounded,—in spite of all that, the halt before

Krems and the victory over Mortier had greatly raised the spirits of the troops.

Throughout the whole army, and also at headquarters, there were the most

cheerful but groundless rumours of the near approach of the columns from Russia,

of some victory gained by the Austrians, and of the retreat of Bonaparte

panic-stricken.

Prince Andrey had been during the engagement in attendance on the Austrian

general Schmidt, who was killed in the battle. His horse had been wounded under

him, and he had himself received a slight wound on his arm from a bullet. As a

mark of special favour on the part of the commander-in-chief, he was sent with

the news of this victory to the Austrian court, now at Brünn, as Vienna was

threatened by the French. On the night of the battle, excited, but not weary

(though Prince Andrey did not look robustly built, he could bear fatigue better

than very strong men), he had ridden with a despatch from Dohturov to Krems to

Kutuzov. The same night he had been sent on with a special despatch to Brünn.

This commission, apart from its reward, meant an important step in

promotion.

The night was dark and starlit; the road looked black in the white snow that

had fallen on the day of the battle. With his mind filled with impressions of

the battle, joyful anticipations of the effect that would be produced by the

news of the victory, and recollections of the farewells of the

commander-in-chief and his comrades, Prince Andrey trotted along in a light

posting cart, with the sensations of a man who, after long waiting, has at last

attained the first instalment of some coveted happiness. As soon as he closed

his eyes, the firing of guns and cannons was echoing in his ears, and that sound

blended with the rattle of the wheels and the sensation of victory. At one

moment he would begin to dream that the Russians were flying, that he was

himself slain; but he waked up in haste, and with fresh happiness realised anew

that that was all unreal, and that it was the French, on the contrary, who were

put to flight. He recalled again all the details of the victory, his own calm

manliness during the battle, and, reassured, he began to doze.… The dark,

starlit night was followed by a bright and sunny morning. The snow was thawing

in the sun, the horses galloped quickly, and new and different-looking forests,

fields, and trees flew by on both sides of the road alike.

At one of the stations he overtook a convoy of Russian wounded. The Russian

officer in charge of the transport lay lolling back in the foremost cart, and

was shouting coarse abuse at a soldier. In each of the long German

Vorspanns six or more pale, bandaged, and dirty wounded men were being

jolted over the stony roads. Some of them were talking (he caught the sound of

Russian words), others were eating bread; the most severely wounded gazed dumbly

at the posting cart trotting by, with the languid interest of sick

children.

Prince Andrey told the driver to stop, and asked a soldier in what battle

they had been wounded.

“The day before yesterday on the Danube,” answered the soldier. Prince Andrey

took out his purse and gave the soldier three gold pieces.

“For all,” he added, addressing the officer as he came up. “Get well, lads,”

he said to the soldiers, “there's a lot to do yet.”

“What news?” asked the officer, evidently anxious to get into

conversation.

“Good news! Forward!” he called to the driver, and galloped on.

It was quite dark when Prince Andrey rode into Br

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