War And Peace: Book 10 - CHAPTER XXV

Description

THE OFFICERS would have taken leave, but Prince Andrey, apparently unwilling

to be left alone with his friend, pressed them to stay and have some tea.

Benches were set, and tea was brought. With some astonishment the officers

stared at Pierre's huge, bulky figure, and heard his talk of Moscow, and of the

position of our troops, which he had succeeded in getting a view of. Prince

Andrey did not speak, and his face was so forbidding that Pierre addressed his

remarks more to the simple-hearted Timohin than to Bolkonsky.

“So you understand the whole disposition of the troops?” Prince Andrey put

in.

“Yes. At least, how do you mean?” said Pierre. “As I am not a military man, I

can't say I do fully; but still I understand the general arrangement.”

“Well, then, you know more than anybody else,” said Prince Andrey.

“Oh!” said Pierre incredulously, looking over his spectacles at Prince

Andrey. “Well, and what do you say of the appointment of Kutuzov?” he

asked.

“I was very glad of his appointment; that's all I know,” said Prince

Andrey.

“Well, tell me your opinion of Barclay de Tolly. In Moscow they are saying

all kinds of things about him. What do you think of him?”

“Ask them,” said Prince Andrey, indicating the officers.

With the condescendingly doubtful smile with which every one addressed him,

Pierre looked at Timohin.

“It was a gleam of light in the dark, your excellency, when his highness took

the command,” said Timohin, stealing shy glances continually at his

colonel.

“Why so?” asked Pierre.

“Well, as regards firewood and food, let me tell you. Why, all the way we

retreated from Sventsyan not a twig, nor a wisp of hay, nor anything, dare we

touch. We were retreating, you see, so he would get it, wouldn't he, your

excellency?” he said, turning to his prince, “but we mustn't dare to. In our

regiment two officers were court-martialled for such things. Well, since his

highness is in command, it's all straightforward as regards that. We see

daylight …”

“Then why did he forbid it?”

Timohin looked round in confusion, at a loss how to answer such a question.

Pierre turned to Prince Andrey with the same inquiry.

“Why, so as not to waste the country we were leaving for the enemy,” said

Prince Andrey, with angry sarcasm. “That's a first principle: never to allow

pillage and accustom your men to marauding. And at Smolensk too he very

correctly judged that the French were the stronger and might overcome us. But he

could not understand,” cried Prince Andrey in a voice suddenly shrill, “he could

not understand that for the first time we were fighting on Russian soil, that

there was a spirit in the men such as I had never seen before, that we had twice

in succession beaten back the French, and that success had multiplied our

strength tenfold. He ordered a retreat, and all our efforts and our curses were

in vain. He had no thought of treachery; he tried to do everything for the best

and thought over everything well. But for that very reason he was no good. He is

no good now just because be considers everything soundly and accurately as every

German must. How can I explain to you. … Well, your father has a German valet,

say, and he's an excellent valet and satisfies all his requirements better than

you can do and all's well and good; but if your father is sick unto death,

you'll send away the valet and wait on your father yourself with your awkward,

unpractised hands, and be more comfort to him than a skilful man who's a

stranger. That's how we have done with Barclay. While Russia was well, she might

be served by a stranger, and an excellent minister he was, but as soon as she's

in danger, she wants a man of her own kith and kin. So you in your club have

been making him out to be a traitor! They slander him now as a traitor; and

afterwards, ashamed of their false accusations, they will suddenly glorify him

as a hero or a genius, which would be even more unfair to him. He's an honest

and conscientious German …”

“They say he's an able general, though,” said Pierre.

“I don't know what's meant by an able general,” Prince Andrey said

ironically.

“An able general,” said Pierre; “well, it's one who foresees all

contingencies … well, divines the enemy's projects.”

“But that's impossible,” said Prince Andrey, as though of a matter long ago

settled.

Pierre looked at him in surprise.

“But you know they say,” he said, “that war is like a game of chess.”

“Yes,” said Prince Andrey, “only with this little difference, that in chess

you may think over each move as long as you please, that you are not limited as

to time, and with this further difference that a knight is always stronger than

a pawn and two pawns are always stronger than one, while in war a battalion is

sometimes stronger than a division, and sometimes weaker than a company. No one

can ever be certain of the relative strength of armies. Believe me,” he said,

“if anything did depend on the arrangements made by the staff, I would be there,

and helping to make them, but instead of that I have the honour of serving here

in the regiment with these gentlemen here, and I consider that the day really

depends upon us to-morrow and not on them. … Success never has depended and

never will depend on position, on arms, nor even on numbers; and, least of all,

on position.”

“On what then?”

“On the feeling that is in me and him,” he indicated Timohin, “and every

soldier.”

Prince Andrey glanced at Timohin, who was staring in alarm and bewilderment

at his colonel. In contrast to his usual reserved taciturnity, Prince Andrey

seemed excited now. Apparently he could not refrain from expressing the ideas

that suddenly rose to his mind. “The battle is won by the side that has firmly

resolved to win. Why did we lose the battle of Austerlitz? Our losses were

almost equalled by the French losses; but we said to ourselves very early in the

day that we were losing the battle, and we lost it. And we said so because we

had nothing to fight for then; we wanted to get out of fighting as quick as we

could. ‘We are defeated; so let us run!' and we did run. If we had not said that

till evening, God knows what might not have happened. But to-morrow we shan't

say that. You talk of our position, of the left flank being weak, and the right

flank too extended,” he went on; “all that's nonsense; that's all nothing. But

what awaits us to-morrow? A hundred millions of the most diverse contingencies,

which will determine on the instant whether they run or we do; whether one man

is killed and then another; but all that's being done now is all mere child's

play. The fact is that these people with whom you have been inspecting the

positions do nothing towards the progress of things; they are a positive

hindrance. They are entirely taken up with their own petty interests.”

“At such a moment?” said Pierre reproachfully.

“At such a moment,” repeated Prince Andrey. “To them this is simply a

moment on which one may score off a rival and win a cross or ribbon the more. To

my mind what is before us to-morrow is this: a hundred thousand Russian and a

hundred thousand French troops have met to fight, and the fact is that these two

hundred thousand men will fight, and the side that fights most desperataly and

spares itself least will conquer. And if you like, I'll tell you that whatever

happens, and whatever mess they make up yonder, we shall win the battle

to-morrow; whatever happens we shall win the victory.”

“Your excellency, that's the truth of it, the holy truth,” put in Timohin;

“who would spare himself now! The soldiers in my battalion, would you believe

it, wouldn't drink their vodka; this isn't an ordinary day, they say.”

All were silent.

The officers rose. Prince Andrey went with them out of the barn, giving the

last instructions to the adjutant. When the officers had gone, Pierre came

nearer to Prince Andrey, and was just about to begin talking when they heard the

tramp of hoofs not far away on the road, and glancing in that direction Prince

Andrey recognised Woltzogen and Klausewitz, accompanied by a Cossack. They rode

close by them, still talking, and Pierre and Prince Andrey could not help

overhearing the following phrases in German:

“The war ought to be carried on over a wide extent of country. I cannot

sufficiently strongly express that view of the matter,” one said in

German.

“Oh yes,” said another voice, “since the object is to wear out the enemy, one

must not consider the losses of private persons.”

“Certainly not,” acquiesced the first voice.

“Carried into a wide extent of country,” Prince Andrey repeated with a

wrathful snort, when they had ridden by. “In that open country I had a father

and son and sister at Bleak Hills. He doesn't care about that. That's just what

I was saying to you: these excellent Germans won't win the battle to-morrow,

they will only make a mess of it, so far as they are able, because they have

nothing in their German noddles but calculations that are not worth a rotten

egg, and they haven't in their hearts the one thing that's wanted for to-morrow,

that Timohin has. They have given all Europe up to him, and now they have

come to teach us—fine teachers!” he added, his voice growing shrill again

“So you think the battle to-morrow will be a victory,” said Pierre.

“Yes, yes,” said Prince Andrey absently. “There's one thing I would do, if I

were in power,” he began again. “I wouldn't take prisoners. What sense is there

in taking prisoners? That's chivalry. The French have destroyed my home and are

coming to destroy Moscow; they have outraged and are outraging me at every

second. They are my enemies, they are all criminals to my way of thinking. And

so thinks Timohin, and all the army with him. They must be put to death. Since

they are my enemies, they can't be my friends, whatever they may have said at

Tilsit.”

“Yes, yes,” said Pierre, looking with shining eyes at Prince Andrey. “I

entirely agree with you!”

The question that had been disturbing Pierre all that day, since the Mozhaisk

hill, now struck him as perfectly clear and fully solved. He saw now all the

import and all the gravity of the war and the impending battle. All he had seen

that day, all the stern, grave faces of which he had had glimpses, appeared to

him in a new light now. He saw, to borrow a term from physics, the latent heat

of patriotism in all those men he had seen, and saw in it the explanation of the

composure and apparent levity with which they were all preparing for death. “We

ought not to take prisoners,” said Prince Andrey. “That change alone would

transform the whole aspect of war and would make it less cruel. But playing at

war, that's what's vile; and playing at magnanimity and all the rest of it. That

magnanimity and sensibility is like the magnanimity and sensibility of the lady

who turns sick at the sight of a slaughtered calf—she is so kind-hearted she

can't see blood—but eats fricasseed veal with a very good appetite. They talk of

the laws of warfare, of chivalry, of flags of truce, and humanity to the

wounded, and so on. That's all rubbish. I saw enough in 1805 of chivalry and

flags of truce: they duped us, and we duped them. They plunder other people's

homes, issue false money, and, worse than all, kill my children, my father, and

then talk of the laws of warfare, and generosity to a fallen foe. No prisoners;

and go to give and to meet death! Any one who has come to think this as I have,

through the same sufferings …”

Prince Andrey, who had thought that he did not care whether they took Moscow

as they had taken Smolensk, was suddenly pulled up in his speech by a nervous

catch in his throat. He walked to and fro several times in silence, but his eyes

blazed with feverish brilliance and his lips quivered, as he began to speak

again.

“If there were none of this playing at generosity in warfare, we should never

go to war, except for something worth facing certain death for, as now. Then

there would not be wars because Pavel Ivanitch had insulted Mihail Ivanitch. But

if there is war as now, let it be really war. And then the intensity of warfare

would be something quite different. All these Westphalians and Hessians Napoleon

is leading against us would not have come to fight us in Russia, and we should

not have gone to war in Austria and in Prussia without knowing what for. War is

not a polite recreation, but the vilest thing in life, and we ought to

understand that and not play at war. We ought to accept it sternly and solemnly

as a fearful necessity. It all comes to this: have done with lying, and if it's

war, then it's war and not a game, or else warfare is simply the favourite

pastime of the idle and frivolous. … The military is the most honoured calling.

And what is war, what is needed for success in war, what are the morals of the

military world? The object of warfare is murder; the means employed in

warfare—spying, treachery, and the encouragement of it, the ruin of a country,

the plundering of its inhabitants and robbery for the maintenance of the army,

trickery and lying, which are called military strategy; the morals of the

military class—absence of all independence, that is, discipline, idleness,

ignorance, cruelty, debauchery, and drunkenness. And in spite of all that, it is

the highest class, respected by every one. All sovereigns, except the Chinese,

wear a military uniform, and give the greatest rewards to the man who succeeds

in killing most people. … They meet together to murder one another, as we shall

do to-morrow; they slaughter and mutilate tens of thousands of men, and then

offer up thanksgiving services for the number of men they have killed (and even

add to it in the telling), and glorify the victory, supposing that the more men

have been slaughtered the greater the achievement. How God can look down from

above and hear them!” shrieked Prince Andrey in a shrill, piercing voice. “Ah,

my dear boy, life has been a bitter thing for me of late. I see that I have come

to understand too much. And it is not good for man to taste of the tree of the

knowledge of good and evil. … Ah, well, it's not for long!” he added. “But you

are getting sleepy and it's time I was in bed too. Go back to Gorky,” said

Prince Andrey suddenly.

“Oh no!” answered Pierre, gazing with eyes full of scared sympathy at Prince

Andrey.

“You must be off; before a battle one needs to get a good sleep,” repeated

Prince Andrey. He went quickly up to Pierre, embraced and kissed him. “Good-bye,

be off,” he cried, “whether we see each other again or not …” and turning

hurriedly, he went off into the barn.

It was already dark, and Pierre could not distinguish whether the expression

of his face was exasperated or affectionate.

Pierre stood for some time in silence, hesitating whether to go after him or

to return to Gorky. “No; he does not want me!” Pierre made up his mind, “and I

know this is our last meeting!” He heaved a deep sigh and rode back to

Gorky.

Prince Andrey lay down on a rug in the barn, but he could not sleep.

He closed his eyes. One set of images followed another in his mind. On one

mental picture he dwelt long and joyfully. He vividly recalled one evening in

Petersburg. Natasha with an eager, excited face had been telling him how in

looking for mushrooms the previous summer she had lost her way in a great

forest. She described incoherently the dark depths of the forest, and her

feelings, and her talk with a bee-keeper she met, and every minute she broke off

in her story, saying: “No, I can't, I'm not describing it properly; no, you

won't understand me,” although Prince Andrey tried to assure her that he

understood and did really understand all she wanted to convey to him. Natasha

was dissatisfied with her own words; she felt that they did not convey the

passionately poetical feeling she had known that day and tried to give

expression to. “It was all so exquisite, that old man, and it was so dark in the

forest … and such a kind look in his … no, I can't describe it,” she had said,

flushed and moved.

Prince Andrey smiled now the same happy smile he had smiled then, gazing into

her eyes. “I understood her,” thought Prince Andrey, “and more than understood

her: that spiritual force, that sincerity, that openness of soul, the very soul

of her, which seemed bound up with her body, the very soul it was I loved in her

… loved so intensely, so passionately …” and all at once he thought how his love

had ended. “He cared nothing for all that. He saw nothing of it,

had no notion of it. He saw in her a pretty and fresh young girl with

whom he did not deign to unite his life permanently. And I? … And he is still

alive and happy.” Prince Andrey jumped up as though suddenly scalded, and began

walking to and fro before the barn again.

$$ Buy "War And Peace: Book 10 - CHAPTER XXV" on Amazon $$

Please check the description for download links if any or do a search to find alternative books.

Can't Download?
Please search mirrors if you can't find download links for "War And Peace: Book 10 - CHAPTER XXV" in "Description" and someone else may update the links. Check the comments when back to find any updates.

Search Mirrors
Maybe some mirror pages will be helpful, search this book at top of this page or click here to find more info.

1. Ebooks list page : 84
2. War And Peace: Book 4 - CHAPTER V
3. War And Peace: Book 2 - CHAPTER III
4. War And Peace: Book 2 - CHAPTER II
5. War And Peace: Book 2 - CHAPTER I
6. War And Peace: Book 2 - CHAPTER IV
7. War And Peace: Book 3 - CHAPTER XIX
8. War And Peace: Book 3 - CHAPTER XVI
9. War And Peace: Book 3 - CHAPTER XV
10. War And Peace: Book 3 - CHAPTER XIV
11. War And Peace: Book 2 - CHAPTER V
12. War And Peace: Book 2 - CHAPTER VI
13. War And Peace: Book 2 - CHAPTER XIX
14. War And Peace: Book 2 - CHAPTER XVI
15. War And Peace: Book 2 - CHAPTER XIV
16. War And Peace: Book 2 - CHAPTER XV