Prince Andrey needed no telescope to see just below them down to the right a dense column of French soldiers climbing the slope towards the Apsheron regiment, no more than five hundred yards from where Kutuzov was standing.
‘This is it. It’s here, my big moment! This is my chance,’ thought Prince Andrey, spurring his horse, and he rode over to Kutuzov.
‘Your Excellency,’ he shouted, ‘we must stop the Apsheron regiment.’
But at that instant everything disappeared in a cloud of smoke, guns went off close by and not two paces from Prince Andrey a voice cried out in pure terror, ‘Hey, mates, we’ve had it!’ And this voice was as good as a command – one call, and everyone panicked and ran.
Hordes of men from all over the place, swelling into great crowds, fled back towards the area where five minutes earlier they had been marching past the two Emperors. Not only was it going to be difficult to stop this rush, it was impossible not to be swept back along with the mob. Bolkonsky’s main concern was not to lose contact with Kutuzov, and all he could do was stare around in bewilderment, unable to take in what was happening before his eyes. Nesvitsky’s blood was up; unrecognizable in all his fury, he kept yelling at Kutuzov that if he didn’t get away at once he was sure to be taken prisoner. Rooted to the spot, Kutuzov was busy taking out his handkerchief and he didn’t answer. Blood ran down his cheek. Prince Andrey forced his way through to him.
‘Are you wounded?’ he asked, his jaw quivering uncontrollably.
‘Not here – there!’ said Kutuzov, pressing the handkerchief to his bleeding cheek and pointing to the fleeing soldiers.
‘Somebody stop them!’ he roared, and then, probably realizing that nobody could do that, he spurred his horse and rode off to the right. Another wave of panicking humanity engulfed him and swept him back.
The troops were running away in such huge numbers that once you were caught in the middle of the crowd it was no easy matter to get out of it. Someone yelled, ‘Go on! Get out of my way!’ Another man was lurching around to fire in the air; somebody else was even lashing out at Kutuzov’s horse. With one huge thrust Kutuzov managed to extricate himself from the torrent of men, and rode off towards the cannon-fire with his suite cut down by half. Prince Andrey also struggled free, still fighting to keep in touch with Kutuzov, but then he saw something through the smoke on the hillside – a Russian battery still firing and the French running towards it. Just uphill from them there were some Russian infantrymen going nowhere, neither hurrying forward to support the battery nor running back in the same direction as the runaways. A general on horseback had detached himself from the infantry and ridden over to Kutuzov. Of Kutuzov’s suite only four men were left. Pale-faced and staring, they said not a word.
‘Cowardly swine! Stop them!’ said a breathless Kutuzov to the regimental commander, pointing to the fleeing soldiers. But at that moment, as if to punish him for saying what he did, a shower of bullets whistled over the regiment and Kutuzov’s suite like a flock of birds. The French were after the battery, but once they caught sight of Kutuzov they had turned their fire on him. With this volley the general clutched at his leg, several soldiers went down and a second lieutenant holding the flag let it slide from his hands. The flag wobbled and got caught on the guns of the nearest soldiers as it fell. The soldiers had begun firing without orders.
‘Oh no!’ Kutuzov groaned in despair as he looked around everywhere. ‘Bolkonsky,’ he whispered in a quavering voice which betrayed his awareness of being too old and too feeble. ‘Bolkonsky,’ he whispered, pointing towards the shattered battalion and the enemy, ‘what’s all this?’
But before he could get the words out, Prince Andrey, choking on tears of humiliation and fury, was off his horse and racing for the flag.
‘Come on, boys! This way!’ he shrieked, piping like a boy. ‘This is it!’ Prince Andrey thought, seizing the flagstaff, exhilarated by the scream of bullets clearly meant for him. Several soldiers went down.
