战争与和平(上)-第52节

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ing　soft；　and　flop—a　Cossack；　riding　a　little　behind　and　to　the　right　of　the　auditor；　dropped　from　his　horse　to　the　ground。　Zherkov　and　the　staff…officer　bent　forward　over　their　saddles　and　turned　their　horses　away。　The　auditor　stopped　facing　the　Cossack；　and　looking　with　curiosity　at　him。　The　Cossack　was　dead；　the　horse　was　still　struggling。
Prince　Bagration　dropped　his　eyelids；　looked　round；　and　seeing　the　cause　of　the　delay；　turned　away　indifferently；　seeming　to　ask；　“Why　notice　these　trivial　details？”　With　the　ease　of　a　first…rate　horseman　he　stopped　his　horse；　bent　over　a　little　and　disengaged　his　sabre；　which　had　caught　under　his　cloak。　The　sabre　was　an　old…fashioned　one；　unlike　what　are　worn　now。　Prince　Andrey　remembered　the　story　that　Suvorov　had　given　his　sabre　to　Bagration　in　Italy；　and　the　recollection　was　particularly　pleasant　to　him　at　that　moment。　They　had　ridden　up　to　the　very　battery　from　which　Prince　Andrey　had　surveyed　the　field　of　battle。
“Whose　company？”　Prince　Bagration　asked　of　the　artilleryman　standing　at　the　ammunition　boxes。
He　asked　in　words：　“Whose　company？”　but　what　he　was　really　asking　was；　“You’re　not　in　a　panic　here？”　And　the　artilleryman　understood　that。
“Captain　Tushin’s；　your　excellency；”　the　red…haired；　freckled　artilleryman　sang　out　in　a　cheerful　voice；　as　he　ducked　forward。
“To　be　sure；　to　be　sure；”　said　Bagration；　pondering　something；　and　he　rode　by　the　platforms　up　to　the　end　cannon。　Just　as　he　reached　it；　a　shot　boomed　from　the　cannon；　deafening　him　and　his　suite；　and　in　the　smoke　that　suddenly　enveloped　the　cannon　the　artillerymen　could　be　seen　hauling　at　the　cannon；　dragging　and　rolling　it　back　to　its　former　position。　A　broad…shouldered；　gigantic　soldier；　gunner　number　one；　with　a　mop；　darted　up　to　the　wheel　and　planted　himself；　his　legs　wide　apart；　while　number　two；　with　a　shaking　hand；　put　the　charge　into　the　cannon’s　mouth；　a　small　man　with　stooping　shoulders；　the　officer　Tushin；　stumbling　against　the　cannon；　dashed　forward；　not　noticing　the　general；　and　looked　out；　shading　his　eyes　with　his　little　hand。
“Another　two　points　higher；　and　it　will　be　just　right；”　he　shouted　in　a　shrill　voice；　to　which　he　tried　to　give　a　swaggering　note　utterly　out　of　keeping　with　his　figure。　“Two！”　he　piped。　“Smash　away；　Medvyedev！”
Bagration　called　to　the　officer；　and　Tushin　went　up　to　the　general；　putting　three　fingers　to　the　peak　of　his　cap　with　a　timid　and　awkward　gesture；　more　like　a　priest　blessing　some　one　than　a　soldier　saluting。　Though　Tushin’s　guns　had　been　intended　to　cannonade　the　valley；　he　was　throwing　shells　over　the　village　of　Sch？ngraben；　in　part　of　which　immense　masses　of　French　soldiers　were　moving　out。
No　one　had　given　Tushin　instructions　at　what　or　with　what　to　fire；　and　after　consulting　his　sergeant；　Zaharchenko；　for　whom　he　had　a　great　respect；　he　had　decided　that　it　would　be　a　good　thing　to　set　fire　to　the　village。　“Very　good！”　Bagration　said；　on　the　officer’s　submitting　that　he　had　done　so；　and　he　began　scrutinising　the　whole　field　of　battle　that　lay　unfolded　before　him。　He　seemed　to　be　considering　something。　The　French　had　advanced　nearest　on　the　right　side。　In　the　hollow　where　the　stream　flowed；　below　the　eminence　on　which　the　Kiev　regiment　was　stationed；　could　be　heard　a　continual　roll　and　crash　of　guns；　the　din　of　which　was　overwhelming。　And　much　further　to　the　right；　behind　the　dragoons；　the　officer　of　the　suite　pointed　out　to　Bagration　a　column　of　French　outflanking　our　flank。　On　the　left　the　horizon　was　bounded　by　the　copse　close　by。　Prince　Bagration　gave　orders　for　two　battalions　from　the　centre　to　go　to　the　right　to　reinforce　the　flank。　The　officer　of　the　suite　ventured　to　observe　to　the　prince　that　the　removal　of　these　battalions　would　leave　the　cannon　unprotected。　Prince　Bagration　turned　to　the　officer　of　the　suite　and　stared　at　him　with　his　lustreless　eyes　in　silence。　Prince　Andrey　thought　that　the　officer’s　observation　was　a　very　just　one；　and　that　really　there　was　nothing　to　be　said　in　reply。　But　at　that　instant　an　adjutant　galloped　up　with　a　message　from　the　colonel　of　the　regiment　in　the　hollow　that　immense　masses　of　the　French　were　coming　down　upon　them；　that　his　men　were　in　disorder　and　retreating　upon　the　Kiev　grenadiers。　Prince　Bagration　nodded　to　signify　his　assent　and　approval。　He　rode　at　a　walking　pace　to　the　right；　and　sent　an　adjutant　to　the　dragoons　with　orders　to　attack　the　French。　But　the　adjutant　returned　half　an　hour　later　with　the　news　that　the　colonel　of　the　dragoons　had　already　retired　beyond　the　ravine；　as　a　destructive　fire　had　been　opened　upon　him；　and　he　was　losing　his　men　for　nothing；　and　so　he　had　concentrated　his　men　in　the　wood。
“Very　good！”　said　Bagration。
Just　as　he　was　leaving　the　battery；　shots　had　been　heard　in　the　wood　on　the　left　too；　and　as　it　was　too　far　to　the　left　flank　for　him　to　go　himself；　Prince　Bagration　despatched　Zherkov　to　tell　the　senior　general—the　general　whose　regiment　had　been　inspected　by　Kutuzov　at　Braunau—to　retreat　as　rapidly　as　possible　beyond　the　ravine；　as　the　right　flank　would　probably　not　long　be　able　to　detain　the　enemy。　Tushin；　and　the　battalion　that　was　to　have　defended　his　battery；　was　forgotten。　Prince　Andrey　listened　carefully　to　Prince　Bagration’s　colloquies　with　the　commanding　officers；　and　to　the　orders　he　gave　them；　and　noticed；　to　his　astonishment；　that　no　orders　were　really　given　by　him　at　all；　but　that　Prince　Bagration　confined　himself　to　trying　to　appear　as　though　everything　that　was　being　done　of　necessity；　by　chance；　or　at　the　will　of　individual　officers；　was　all　done；　if　not　by　his　order；　at　least　in　accordance　with　his　intentions。　Prince　Andrey　observed；　however；　that；　thanks　to　the　tact　shown　by　Prince　Bagration；　notwithstanding　that　what　was　done　was　due　to　chance；　and　not　dependent　on　the　commander’s　will；　his　presence　was　of　the　greatest　value。　Commanding　officers；　who　rode　up　to　Bagration　looking　distraught；　regained　their　composure；　soldiers　and　officers　greeted　him　cheerfully；　recovered　their　spirits　in　his　presence；　and　were　unmistakably　anxious　to　display　their　pluck　before　him。


Chapter　18
AFTER　RIDING　up　to　the　highest　point　of　our　right　flank；　Prince　Bagration　began　to　go　downhill；　where　a　continuous　roll　of　musketry　was　heard　and　nothing　could　be　seen　for　the　smoke。　The　nearer　they　got　to　the　hollow　the　less　they　could　see；　and　the　more　distinctly　could　be　felt　the　nearness　of　the　actual　battlefield。　They　began　to　meet　wounded　men。　Two　soldiers　were　dragging　one　along；　supporting　him　on　each　side。　His　head　was　covered　with　blood；　he　had　no　cap；　and　was　coughing　and　spitting。　The　bullet　had　apparently　entered　his　mouth　or　throat。　Another　one　came　towards　them；　walking　pluckily　alone　without　his　gun；　groaning　aloud　and　wringing　his　hands　from　the　pain　of　a　wound　from　which　the　blood　was　flowing；　as　though　from　a　bottle；　over　his　greatcoat。　His　face　looked　more　frightened　than　in　pain。　He　had　been　wounded　only　a　moment　before。　Crossing　the　road；　they　began　going　down　a　deep　descent；　and　on　the　slope　they　saw　several　men　lying　on　the　ground。　They　were　met　by　a　crowd　of　soldiers；　among　them　some　who　were　not　wounded。　The　soldiers　were　hurrying　up　the　hill；　gasping　for　breath；　and　in　spite　of　the　general’s　presence；　they　were　talking　loudly　together　and　gesticulating　with　their　arms。　In　the　smoke　ahead　of　them　they　could　see　now　rows　of　grey　coats；　and　the　commanding　officer；　seeing　Bagration；　ran　after　the　group　of　retreating　soldiers；　calling　upon　them　to　come　back。　Bagration　rode　up　to　the　ranks；　along　which　there　was　here　and　there　a　rapid　snapping　of　shots　drowning　the　talk　of　the　soldiers　and　the　shouts　of　the　officers。　The　whole　air　was　reeking　with　smoke。　The　soldiers’　faces　were　all　full　of　excitement　and　smudged　with　powder。　Some　were　plugging　with　their　ramrods；　others　were　putting　powder　on　the　touch…pans；　and　getting　charges　out　of　their　pouches；　others　were　firing　their　guns。　But　it　was　impossible　to　see　at　whom　they　were　firing　from　the　smoke；　which　the　wind　did　not　lift。　The　pleasant　hum　and　whiz　of　the　bullets　was　repeated　pretty　rapidly。　“What　is　it？”　wondered　Prince　Andrey；　as　he　rode　up　to　the　crowd　of　soldiers。　“It　can’t　be　the　line；　for　they　are　all　crowded　together；　it　can’t　be　an　attacking　party；　for　they　are　not　moving；　it　can’t　be　a　square；　they　are　not　standing　like　one。”
A　thin；　weak…looking　colonel；　apparently　an　old　man；　with　an　amiable　smile；　and　eyelids　that　half…covered　his　old…looking　eyes　and　gave　him　a　mild　air；　rode　up　to　Prince　Bagration　and　received　him　as　though　he　were　welcoming　an　honoured　guest　into　his　house。　He　announced　to　Prince　Bagration　that　his　regiment　had　had　to　face　a　cavalry　attack　of　the　French；　that　though　the　attack　had　been　repulsed；　the　regiment　had　lost　more　than　half　of　its　men。　The　colonel　said　that　the　attack　had　been　repulsed；　supposing　that　to　be　the　proper　military　term　for　what　had　happened；　but　he　did　not　really　know　himself　what　had　been　taking　place　during　that　half　hour　in　the　troops　under　his　command；　and　could　not　have　said　with　any　certainty　whether　the　attack　had　been　repelled　or　his　regiment　had　been　beaten　by　the　attack。　All　he　knew　was　that　at　the　beginning　of