Kutuzov stopped chewing and stared at Wolzogen in amazement, as if he could not understand what he was saying. Wolzogen noticed the old gentleman’s agitation and went on with a smile:

‘I felt I had no right to conceal from your Highness what I have seen . . . The troops are all over the place . . .’

‘Seen? What you have seen? . . .’ said Kutuzov with a scowl, getting rapidly to his feet and marching up close to Wolzogen. ‘How . . . how dare you! . . .’ he fulminated, choking with emotion and making threatening gestures with his trembling hands. ‘How dare you, sir, say that to me? You know nothing. Tell General Barclay from me that his information is wrong, and that I as commander-in-chief know more about the real course of the battle than he does.’

Wolzogen made as if to protest, but Kutuzov cut him short.

‘The enemy has been halted on the left flank and defeated on the right. If you have been looking in the wrong place, sir, do not allow yourself to talk about things you do not understand. Kindly return to General Barclay and inform him of my utter determination to attack the French tomorrow,’ said Kutuzov sternly.

There was complete silence, broken only by the heavy wheezing and gasping of the old general. ‘They have been repulsed at all points, for which I thank God and our brave men. The enemy is defeated, and tomorrow we shall drive him from the sacred soil of Russia!’ said Kutuzov, crossing himself, and he gave a sudden shuddering sob through rising tears.

Wolzogen gave a shrug, pursed his lips and walked away in silence, marvelling at the old gentleman’s stubbornness.

‘Ah, here he is. This is my hero!’ said Kutuzov as a rather corpulent, handsome, black-haired general came walking up the hillside. It was Rayevsky, who had spent the whole day in the key position during the battle.

Rayevsky reported that the men were staunchly standing their ground, and the French dared not mount another attack.

Kutuzov listened to what he had to say and then asked him in French, ‘So, unlike the others, you do not think we are now obliged to retreat?’

‘On the contrary, your Highness, when matters are undecided it is always the most determined who come through to victory,’ answered Rayevsky; ‘and it is my belief . . .’ ‘Kaysarov!’ Kutuzov called to his adjutant. ‘Sit down and write tomorrow’s order for the day. And you,’ he said, turning to another, ‘ride down the line and tell them tomorrow we attack.’

While Kutuzov was talking to Rayevsky and dictating the order Wolzogen came back from Barclay and announced that General Barclay de Tolly would like to have written confirmation of the order issued by the field-marshal.

Without looking at Wolzogen, Kutuzov ordered an adjutant to write down the order, which the former commander-in-chief was justified in asking for in order to avoid all personal responsibility.

And through that mysterious, indefinable bond that maintains morale across an entire army, the very ‘spirit of the army’ and its nerve-centre in time of war, Kutuzov’s words, his order for them to go into battle again next day, were instantly flashed from one end of the army to the other.

The words themselves, the phrasing of the order, were by no means the same when they got out to the last links in the chain. The stories that went from mouth to mouth in the outer reaches of the army bore no resemblance to what Kutuzov had actually said, but the sense of his words penetrated everywhere, because what Kutuzov had said was not the result of subtle thought and long consideration, but a surge of emotion that lay deep in the heart of the commander-in-chief, and deep in the heart of every Russian.

And hearing the word – tomorrow we attack the enemy – together with confirmation from the highest spheres of the army of what they most wanted to believe, exhausted men whose courage had been faltering felt a sense of relief and new inspiration.

CHAPTER 36

Prince Andrey’s regiment was among the reserves, which were kept back behind Semyonovsk completely inactive and under heavy artillery fire until going on for two o’clock. Then the regiment, which had already lost more than two hundred men, was moved forward into a trampled field of oats in the area between Semyonovsk and the Rayevsky redoubt, where thousands of men were to fall during the day. At that very time, just before two, the concentrated fire from hundreds of enemy guns was actually being intensified in this area.

Перейти на страницу:

Похожие книги