战争与和平(上)-第347章

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correct；　the　less　he　permitted　himself　to　believe　it。　This　question　absorbed　all　his　spiritual　energies。　All　the　rest　was　for　him　the　mere　customary　performance　of　the　routine　of　life。　Such　a　customary　performance　and　observance　of　routine　were　his　conversations　with　the　staff…officers；　his　letters　to　Madame　de　Sta？l　that　he　wrote　from　Tarutino；　his　French　novels；　distribution　of　rewards；　correspondence　with　Petersburg；　and　so　on。　But　the　destruction　of　the　French；　which　he　alone　foresaw；　was　the　one　absorbing　desire　of　his　heart。
On　the　night　of　the　11th　of　October　he　lay　leaning　on　his　arm　and　thinking　of　that。
There　was　a　stir　in　the　next　room；　and　he　heard　the　steps　of　Toll；　Konovnitsyn　and　Bolhovitinov。
“Hey；　who　is　there？　Come　in；　come　in！　Anything　new？”　the　commander…in…chief　called　to　them。
While　a　footman　lighted　a　candle；　Toll　told　the　drift　of　the　news。
“Who　brought　it？”　asked　Kutuzov；　with　a　face　that　impressed　Toll　when　the　candle　was　lighted　by　its　frigid　sternness。
“There　can　be　no　doubt　of　it；　your　highness。”
“Call　him；　call　him　here！”
Kutuzov　sat　with　one　leg　out　of　bed　and　his　unwieldy；　corpulent　body　propped　on　the　other　leg　bent　under　him。　He　screwed　up　his　one　seeing　eye　to　get　a　better　view　of　the　messenger；　as　though　he　hoped　in　his　face　to　read　what　he　cared　to　know。
“Tell　me；　tell　me；　my　dear　fellow；”　he　said　to　Bolhovitinov；　in　his　low；　aged　voice；　pulling　the　shirt　together　that　had　come　open　over　his　chest。　“Come　here；　come　closer。　What　news　is　this　you　have　brought　me？　Eh？　Napoleon　has　marched　out　of　Moscow？　Is　it　truly　so？　Eh？”
Bolhovitinov　began　repeating　in　detail　the　message　that　had　been　given　him。
“Tell　me；　make　haste；　don’t　torture　me；”　Kutuzov　interrupted　him。
Bolhovitinov　told　him　all　and　paused；　awaiting　instructions。　Toll　was　beginning　to　speak；　but　Kutuzov　checked　him。　He　tried　to　say　something；　but　all　at　once　his　face　began　to　work；　to　pucker；　waving　his　hand　at　Toll；　he　turned　the　other　way　to　the　corner　of　the　hut；　which　looked　black　with　the　holy　pictures。　“Lord；　my　Creator！　Thou　hast　heard　our　prayer　…”　he　said　in　a　trembling　voice；　clasping　his　hands。　“Russia　is　saved。　I　thank　Thee；　O　Lord。”　And　he　burst　into　tears。


Chapter　18
FROM　THAT　TIME　up　to　the　end　of　the　campaign；　all　Kutuzov’s　activity　was　limited　to　trying　by　the　exercise　of　authority；　by　guile　and　by　entreaties；　to　hold　his　army　back　from　useless　attacks；　man？uvres；　and　skirmishes　with　the　perishing　enemy。　Dohturov　marched　to　Maley　Yaroslavets；　but　Kutuzov　lingered　with　the　main　army；　and　gave　orders　for　the　clearing　of　the　Kaluga；　retreat　beyond　which　seemed　to　Kutuzov　quite　possible。
Everywhere　Kutuzov　retreated；　but　the　enemy；　without　waiting　for　him　to　retire；　fled　back　in　the　opposite　direction。
Napoleon’s　historians　describe　to　us　his　skilful　man？uvres　at　Tarutino；　and　at　Maley　Yaroslavets；　and　discuss　what　would　have　happened　if　Napoleon　had　succeeded　in　making　his　way　to　the　wealthy　provinces　of　the　south。
But　to　say　nothing　of　the　fact　that　nothing　hindered　Napoleon　from　marching　into　these　southern　provinces　（since　the　Russian　army　left　the　road　open）；　the　historians　forget　that　nothing　could　have　saved　Napoleon’s　army；　because　it　carried　within　itself　at　that　time　the　inevitable　germs　of　ruin。　Why　should　that　army；　which　found　abundant　provisions　in　Moscow　and　could　not　keep　them；　but　trampled　them　underfoot；　that　army　which　could　not　store　supplies　on　entering　Smolensk；　but　plundered　at　random；　why　should　that　army　have　mended　its　ways　in　the　Kaluga　province；　where　the　inhabitants　were　of　the　same　Russian　race　as　in　Moscow；　and　where　fire　had　the　same　aptitude　for　destroying　whatever　they　set　fire　to。
The　army　could　not　have　recovered　itself　any　way。　From　the　battle　of　Borodino　and　the　sacking　of　Moscow　it　bore　within　itself；　as　it　were；　the　chemical　elements　of　dissolution。
The　men　of　what　had　been　an　army　fled　with　their　leaders；　not　knowing　whither　they　went；　Napoleon　and　every　soldier　with　him　filled　with　one　desire：　to　make　his　own　escape　as　quickly　as　might　be　from　the　hopeless　position　of　which　all　were　dimly　aware。
At　the　council　in　Maley　Yaroslavets；　when　the　French　generals；　affecting　to　be　deliberating；　gave　various　opinions　as　to　what　was　to　be　done；　the　opinion　of　the　blunt　soldier；　Mouton；　who　said　what　all　were　thinking；　that　the　only　thing　to　do　was　to　get　away　as　quickly　as　possible；　closed　every　one’s　mouth；　and　no　one；　not　even　Napoleon；　could　say　anything　in　opposition　to　this　truth　that　all　recognised。
But　though　everybody　knew　that　they　must　go；　there　was　still　a　feeling　of　shame　left　at　acknowledging　they　must　fly。　And　some　external　shock　was　necessary　to　overcome　that　shame。　And　that　shock　came　when　it　was　needed。　It　was　le　Hourra　de　l’Empereur；　as　the　French　called　it。
On　the　day　after　the　council；　Napoleon；　on　the　pretext　of　inspecting　the　troops　and　the　field　of　a　past　and　of　a　future　battle；　rode　out　early　in　the　morning　in　the　midst　of　the　lines　of　his　army　with　a　suite　of　marshals　and　an　escort。　The　Cossacks；　who　were　in　search　of　booty；　swept　down　on　the　Emperor；　and　all　but　took　him　prisoner。　What　saved　Napoleon　from　the　Cossacks　that　day　was　just　what　was　the　ruin　of　the　French　army；　the　booty；　which　here　as　well　as　at　Tarutino　tempted　the　Cossacks　to　let　their　prey　slip。　Without　taking　any　notice　of　Napoleon；　they　dashed　at　the　booty；　and　Napoleon　succeeded　in　getting　away。
When　les　enfants　du　Don　might　positively　capture　the　Emperor　himself　in　the　middle　of　his　army；　it　was　evident　that　there　was　nothing　else　to　do　but　to　fly　with　all　possible　haste　by　the　nearest　and　the　familiar　road。　Napoleon；　with　his　forty　years　and　his　corpulence；　had　not　all　his　old　resourcefulness　and　courage；　and　he　quite　took　the　hint；　and　under　the　influence　of　the　fright　the　Cossacks　had　given　him；　he　agreed　at　once　with　Mouton；　and　gave；　as　the　historians　tell　us；　the　order　to　retreat　along　the　Smolensk　road。
The　fact　that　Napoleon　agreed　with　Mouton；　and　that　the　army　did　not　retreat　in　that　direction；　does　not　prove　that　his　command　decided　that　retreat；　but　that　the　forces　acting　on　the　whole　army　and　driving　it　along　the　Mozhaisk　road　were　simultaneously　acting　upon　Napoleon　too。


Chapter　19
WHEN　A　MAN　finds　himself　in　movement；　he　always　invents　a　goal　of　that　movement。　In　order　to　walk　a　thousand　versts；　a　man　must　believe　that　there　is　some　good　beyond　those　thousand　versts。　He　needs　a　vision　of　a　promised　land　to　have　the　strength　to　go　on　moving。　The　promised　land　for　the　French　on　their　march　into　Russia　was　Moscow；　on　their　retreat　it　was　their　own　country。　But　their　country　was　too　far；　and　a　man　walking　a　thousand　versts　must　inevitably　put　aside　his　final　goal　and　say　to　himself　every　day　that　he　is　going　to　walk　forty　versts　to　a　resting…place　where　he　can　sleep；　and　before　the　first　halt　that　resting…place　has　eclipsed　the　image　of　the　final　goal；　and　all　his　hopes　and　desires　are　concentrated　on　it。　All　impulses　manifest　in　the　individual　are　always　greatly　exaggerated　in　a　crowd。
For　the　French；　marching　back　along　the　old　Smolensk　road；　the　final　goal；　their　own　country；　was　too　remote；　and　the　nearer　goal　on　which　all　hopes　and　desires；　enormously　intensified　by　the　influence　of　the　crowd；　were　concentrated　was　Smolensk。
It　was　not　because　the　soldiers　knew　that　there　were　plentiful　supplies　in　Smolensk　and　reinforcements；　nor　because　they　were　told　so　（on　the　contrary；　the　generals　and　Napoleon　himself　knew　that　the　supplies　there　were　scanty）；　but　because　this　was　the　only　thing　that　could　give　them　the　strength　to　move　and　to　bear　their　present　hardships；　that　they—those　that　knew　better　and　those　that　did　not　alike—deceived　themselves；　and　rushed　to　Smolensk　as　to　a　land　of　promise。
When　they　got　out　on　the　high　road；　the　French　fled　to　their　imagined　goal　with　extraordinary　energy　and　unheard…of　rapidity。　Apart　from　the　common　impulse　that　bound　the　crowds　of　Frenchmen　together　into　one　whole　and　gave　them　a　certain　momentum；　there　was　another　cause　that　held　them　together；　that　cause　was　their　immense　number。　As　in　the　physical　law　of　gravitation；　the　immense　mass　of　them　drew　the　separate　atoms　to　itself。　They　mo