 17. Mounting his horse again, Prince Andrew lingered with the battery, looking at the puff from the gun that had sent the ball. His eyes ran rapidly over the wide space, but he only saw the hitherto motionless masses of the French, now swayed, and that there really was a battery to their left. The smoke above it had not yet dispersed. Two mounted Frenchmen, probably Agedons, were galloping up the hill. A small but distinctly visible enemy column was moving down the hill, probably to strengthen the front line. The smoke of the first shot had not yet dispersed before another puff appeared, followed by a report. The battle had begun. Prince Andrew turned his horse and galloped back to Granth to find Prince Begratton. He heard the cannonade behind him, growing louder and more frequent. Evidently, Agedons had begun to reply. From the bottom of the slope, where the pailies had taken place, came the report of musketry. Lemrose had just arrived at a gallop, with Bonaparte's turned letter, and Murat, humiliated and anxious to expiate his fault, had at once moved his forces to attack the centre, and outflank both the Russian wings, hoping before evening and before the arrival of the Emperor to crush the contemptible detachment that stood before him. It has begun. Here it is. Thought, Prince Andrew, feeling the blood, rushed to his heart. But where and how will my tulen present itself? Passing between the companies that had been eating porridge and drinking vodka a quarter of an hour before, he saw everywhere the rapid movement of soldiers foaming ranks and getting their muskets ready, and on all the faces he recognised the same eagerness that filled his heart. It has begun. Here it is. Dreadful, but enjoyable, was what the face of each soldier and each officer seemed to say. Before he had reached the impangments that were being thrown up, he saw in the light of the dull autumn evening, mounted men coming toward him. The foremost, wearing a cossack cloak and landscape cap and riding a white horse, was Prince Begratton. Prince Andrew stopped, waiting for him to come up. Prince Begratton reigned in his horse and, recognising Prince Andrew, nodded to him. He still looked ahead, while Prince Andrew told him what he had seen. The feeling it has begun, here it is, was seen even on Prince Begratton's hard-brown face with his half-closed, dull, sleepy eyes. Prince Andrew gazed with anxious curiosity at that impassive face and wished he could tell what, if anything, this man was sinking and feeling at that moment. Is there anything at all behind that impassive face? Prince Andrew asked himself as he looked. Prince Begratton bent his head in sign of agreement with what Prince Andrew told him, and said, very good, in a tone that seemed to imply that everything that took place and was reported to him was exactly what he had foreseen. Prince Andrew, out of breath with his rapid ride, spoke quickly. Prince Begratton, uttering his words with an oriental accent, spoke particularly slowly as if to impress the fact that there was no need to hurry. However, he put his horse to a trot in the direction of Tushin's battery. Prince Andrew, followed with a sweet. Behind Prince Begratton rode an officer of the sweet, the prince's personal adjutant, Sir Kho, an orderly officer, the staff officer on duty, riding a fine bobtail horse, and a civilian, an accountant who had asked permission to be present at the battle out of curiosity. The accountant, a stout, full-faced man, looked around him with a naïve smile of satisfaction, and presented a strange appearance among the hazzas, cossacks, and adjutants in his cavalier coat as he jolted on his horse with a convoy officer's saddle. He wants to see a battle, said Sir Kho, to Bulkonsky, pointing to the accountant. But he feels a pain in the pit of his stomach already. Oh, leave off, said the accountant, with a beaming but rather cunning smile, as it flattered at being made the subject of Zerkow's jerk, and purposely trying to appear stupider than he really was. It is very strange, more messy, I prints, said the staff officer. He remembered that in French there is some peculiar way of addressing a prince, but could not get it quite right. By this time they were all approaching Tushin's battery, and a ball struck the ground in front of them. What is that that has fallen, asked the accountant, with a naïve smile. A French pancake answered Zerkow. So that is what they hit with, asked the accountant, how awful. He seemed to swell with satisfaction. He had hardly finished speaking, when they again heard an unexpectedly violent whistling, which suddenly ended with a thud into something soft, slop. And a Cossack, riding a little to their right, and behind the accountant, crashed to earth with his horse. Zerkow and the staff officer bent over the saddles, and turned their horses away. The accountant stopped, facing the Cossack, and examined him with attentive curiosity. The Cossack was dead, but the horse still struggled. Prince Pregraton, screwed up his eyes, looked round, and seeing the course of the confusion, turned away with indifference, as if to say, was it worthwhile noticing trifles. He reigned in his horse with the case of his kill-filled rider, and slightly bending over, disengaged his sabre, which had caught in his clerk. It was an old-fashioned sabre of a kind no longer in general use. Prince Andrew remembered the story of Zerkow, giving his sabre to Pregraton in Italy. And the recollection was particularly pleasant at that moment. They had reached the battery at which Prince Andrew had been when he examined the battlefield. Whose company asked Prince Pregraton of an artilleryman standing by the ammunition wagon? He asked, Whose company, but he rarely meant, Are you frightened here? When the artilleryman understood him, Captain Tushin's, your excellency, shouted the red-haired, freckled gunner in a merry voice, standing to attention. Yes, yes, muttered Pregraton, as if considering something. And he rode past the limbers to the farthest cannon. As he approached, a ringing shot issued from it, deafening him and his and in the smoke that suddenly surrounded the gun, they could see the gunners who had seized it, straining to roll it quickly back to its former position. A huge, broad-shouldered gunner, number one, holding a mop, his legs far apart, sprang to the wheel, while number two, with a trembling hand, placed a charge in the cannon's mouth. The short, round-shouldered Captain Tushin, stumbling over the tail of the gun carriage, moved forward, and not noticing the general, looked out, shading his eyes with his small hand. Lifted two lines' move, and it'll be just right, cried he in a feeble voice, to which he tried to impart a dashing note, ill-suited to his weak figure. Number two, his squeaked, fired Medvedev, where Gratton called to him, and Tushin, raising three fingers to his cap, with a bashful and awkward gesture, not at all like a military salute, but like a priest's benediction, approached the general. Though Tushin's guns had been intended to cannonade the valley, he was firing incendiary balls at the village of Shon Gruburn, visible just opposite, in front of which large masses of French were advancing. Novern had given Tushin orders there and at war to fire, but after consulting his sergeant-major, Zakar Shinkow, for whom he had great respect, he had decided that it would be a good thing to set fire to the village. Theregood, said Gratton, and replied to the officer's report, and began deliberately to examine the whole battlefield extended before him. The French had advanced nearest on our right. Below the height on which the cave regimen was stationed, in the hollow where the rivulet flowed, the soul-steering, rolling, and crackling of musketry was heard, and much farther to the right, beyond the dragoons, the officer of the suite pointed out to Gratton a French column that was outflanking us. To the left, the horizon bounded by the adjacent wood. Prince Gratton ordered two battalions from the centre to be sent to reinforce the right flank. The officer of the suite ventured to remark to the prince that if these battalions went away, the guns would remain without support. Prince Gratton turned to the officer, and with his dull eyes looked at him in silence. It seemed to Prince Andrew that the officer's remark was just, and that really no answer could be made to it. But at that moment an adjutant galloped up with a message from the commander of the regiment in the hollow, and news that immense masses of the French were coming down upon them, and that his regiment was in disorder and was retreating upon the cave grenadiers. Prince Gratton bowed his head in sign of assent and approval. He rode off at a walk to the right and sent an adjutant to the dragoons with orders to attack the French. But this adjutant returned half an hour later with the news that commander of the dragoons had already retreated beyond the dip in the ground, as a heavy fire had been opened on him, and he was losing men uselessly, and so had hastened to throw some sharp shooters into the wood. Very good, said Gratton. As he was leaving the battery, firing was heard on the left old serve, and it was too far to the left flank for him to have time to go there himself. Prince Gratton sent Sir Koh to tell the general in command, the one who had paraded his regiment before Kutso at Bruno, that he must retreat as quickly as possible behind the hollow in the rear, as the right flank would probably not be able to withstand the enemy's attack very long. About Tushin and the battalion that had been in support of his battery, all was forgotten. Prince Andrew listened attentively to Gratton's cold queues with the commanding officers, and the orders he gave them and his surprise found that no orders were really given, but that Prince Gratton tried to make it appear that everything done by necessity, by accident, or by the will of subordinate commanders was done, if not by his direct command, at least in accord with his intentions. Prince Andrew noticed, however, that though what happened was due to chance and was independent of the commander's will, owing to the tact Gratton showed his presence was very valuable. Officers who approached him with disturbed countenances became calm. Soldiers and officers greeted him gaily, grew more cheerful in his presence, and were evidently anxious to display their courage before him. End of chapter 17 War and Peace Book 2, Chapter 18 Read for LibriVox.org Chapter 18 Prince Begratian, having reached the highest point of our right flank, began riding down hill to where the roll of musketry was heard, but where on account of the smoke nothing could be seen. The nearer they got to the hollow, the less they could see, but the more they felt the nearness of the actual battlefield. They began to meet wounded men. One, with a bleeding head and no cap, was being dragged along by two soldiers who supported him under the arms. There was a gurgle in his throat and he was spitting blood. A bullet had evidently hit him in the throat or mouth. Another was walking sturdily by himself, but without his musket, groaning aloud and swinging his arm, which had just been hurt, while blood from it was streaming over his great coat as from a bottle. He had that moment been wounded and his face showed fear rather than suffering. Crossing a road they descended a steep incline and saw several men lying on the ground. They also met a crowd of soldiers, some of whom were unwounded. The soldiers were ascending the hill, breathing heavily, and despite the general's presence they were loudly and gesticulating. In front of them, rows of gray cloaks were already visible through the smoke. And an officer catching sight of bagration rushed shouting after the crowd of retreating soldiers, ordering them back. Bagration rode up to the ranks along which shots crackled now here and now there, drowning the sound of voices and the shouts of command. The whole air reeked with smoke. The excited faces of the soldiers were blackened with it. Some were using their remrods, others putting powder on the touch pans, or taking charges from their pouches, while others were firing, though who they were firing at could not be seen for the smoke which there was no wind to carry away. A pleasant humming and whistling of bullets were often heard. What is this, thought Prince Andrew approaching the crowd of soldiers? It can't be an attack, for they are not moving. It can't be a square, for they are not drawn up for that. The commander of the regiment, a thin, feeble-looking old man with a pleasant smile, his eyelids drooping more than half over his old eyes, giving him a mild expression, rode up to Bagration and welcomed him as a host, welcomes and honored guest. He reported that his regiment had been attacked by French cavalry, and that though he had lost more than half his men, he said the attack had been repulsed, employing this military term to describe what had occurred to his regiment, but in reality he did not himself know what had happened during that half-hour to the troops and trusted to him, and could not say with certainty whether the attack had been repulsed or his regiment had been broken up. All he knew was that at the commencement of the action, balls and flying all over his regiment and hitting men and that afterwards someone had shouted, cavalry, and our men had begun firing. They were still firing, not at the cavalry which had disappeared, but at French infantry who had come into the hollow and were firing at our men. Prince Bagration bowed his head as a sign that this was exactly what he had desired and expected. Turning it to his adjutant he ordered him to bring down the two battalions of the six chasseurs whom they had just passed. Prince Andrew was struck by the changed expression on Prince Bagration's face at this moment. It expressed the concentrated and happy resolution you see on the face of a man who on a hot day takes a final run before plunging into the water. The dull sleepy expression was no longer there, nor the affectation of profound thought. The round, steady hawk's eyes looked before him eagerly and rather disdainfully, not resting on anything although his movements were still slow and measured. The commander of the regiment turned to Prince Bagration and treating him to go back as it was too dangerous to remain where they were. Please, Your Excellency, for God's sake he kept saying glancing for support at an officer of the suite who turned away from him. There, you see, and he drew attention to the bullets whistling, singing, and hissing continually around them. He spoke in the tone of a treaty and reproach that a carpenter uses to a gentleman who has picked up an axe. We are used to it, but you, sir, will blister your hands. He spoke as if those bullets could not kill him, and his closed eyes gave still more persuasiveness to his words. The staff officer joined in the Colonel's appeals, but Bagration did not reply. He only gave an order to cease firing in reform, so as to give room for the two approaching battalions. While he was speaking, the curtain of smoke that had concealed the hollow, driven by a rising wind, began to move from right to left as if drawn by a visible hand, and the hill opposite, with the French moving about on it, opened out before them. All eyes fastened involuntarily on this French column advancing against them, and the winding down over the uneven ground. One could already see the soldier's shaggy caps, distinguish the officers from the men, and see the standard flapping against its staff. They march splendidly, remarked someone in Bagration's suite. The head of the column had already descended into the hollow. The clash would take place on this side of it. The remains of our regiment, which had been in action rapidly formed up and moved to the right. From behind it, dispersing the laggards, came two battalions of the Sixth Chasseur in fine order. Before they had reached Bagration, a mighty tread of the mass of men marching in step could be heard. On their left flank, nearest to Bagration, marched a company commander, a fine, round-faced man with a stupid and happy expression, the same man who had rushed out of the waddle shed. At that moment he was clearly thinking of nothing but how dashing a fellow he would appear as he passed the commander. With the self-satisfaction of a man on parade, he stepped lightly with his muscular legs as if sailing along, stretching himself to his full height without the smallest effort, his ease contrasting with the heavy tread of the soldiers who were keeping step with him. He carried close to his leg a narrow, unsheathed sword, small, curved, and not like a real weapon, and looked now at the superior officers and now back at the men without losing step, his whole powerful body turning flexibly. It was as if all the powers of his soul were concentrated on passing the commander in the best possible manner, and feeling that he was doing it well, he was happy. Left, left, left he seemed to repeat to himself at each alternate step, and in time to this, with stern but varied faces, the wall of soldiers burdened with knapsacks and muskets marched in step, and each one of these hundreds of soldiers seemed to be repeating to himself at each alternate step left, left, left a fat major skirted a bush puffing and falling out of step a soldier who had fallen behind, his face showing firm at his defection, ran at a trot panting to catch up with his company a cannonball cleaving the air, flew over the heads of Begration and his suite, and fell into the column to the measure of left, left close up came the company commander's voice in jaunty tones the soldiers passed in a semi-circle around something where the ball had fallen, and an old trooper on the flank a non-commissioned officer who had hopped beside the dead men ran to catch up his line and falling into step with a hop looked back angrily and through the ominous silence and the regular tramp of feet beating the ground in unison one seemed to hear, left left, left well done lads said Prince Begration glad to do our best your excellency came a confused shout from the ranks a morose soldier marching on the left turned his eyes on Begration as he shouted with an expression that seemed to say, we know that ourselves another without looking round as though fearing to relax shouted with his mouth wide open and passed on the order was given to halt and down knapsacks Begration rode round the ranks that had marched him and dismounted he gave the reins to a cossack took off and handed over his felt coat stretched his legs and set his cap straight the head of the French column with its officers leading appeared from below the hill forward with God said Begration in a resolute sonorous voice turning for a moment to the front line and slightly swinging his arms he went forward uneasily over the rough field with the awkward gate of a cavalryman Prince Andrew felt that an invisible power was leading him forward and experienced great happiness the French were already near Prince Andrew walking beside Begration could clearly distinguish their bandoliers red epaulettes and even their faces he distinctly saw an old French officer who with gaited and turned out toes climbed the hill with difficulty Prince Begration gave no further orders and silently continued to walk on in front of the ranks suddenly one shot after another rang out from the French smoke appeared all along their uneven ranks and muskets shots sounded several of our men fell among them the round faced soldier who had marched so gaily and complacently but at the moment the first report was heard Begration looked round and shouted hurrah hurrah rang a loud long drawn out shout from our ranks and passing Begration and racing one another they rushed in an irregular but joyous and eager crowd down the hill at their disordered foe chapter 18 war and peace book 2 chapter 19 read for LibriVox.org by Roger Maline the attack of the 6th Chasseur secured the retreat of our right flank in the center Tushin's forgotten battery which had managed to set fire in the Chaune-Groverne village delayed the French advance the French were putting out the fire which the wind was spreading and gave us time to retreat the retirement of the center to the other side of the dip in the ground at the rear was hurried and noisy but the different companies did not get mixed but our left which consisted of the Azov and Podolsk infantry and the Pavlegrad Hizars was simultaneously attacked and outflanked by superior French forces under Laan and was thrown into confusion Burgracian had sent Zarkov to the general commanding that left flank with orders to retreat immediately Zarkov not removing his hand from his cap turned his horse about and galloped off but no sooner had he left Burgracian than his courage failed him he was seized by panic and could not go where it was dangerous having reached the left flank instead of going to the front where the firing was he began to look for the general and his staff where they could not possibly be and so did not deliver the order the command of the left flank belonged by seniority to the commander of the regiment Kutuzov had reviewed at Baranov and in which Dolochov was serving as a private but the commander of the extreme left flank had been assigned to the commander of the Pavlegrad regiment in which Rostov was serving and a misunderstanding arose the two commanders were much exasperated with one another and long after the action had begun in the right flank and the French were already advancing were engaged in discussion with the sole object of offending one another but the regiments, both cavalry and infantry were by no means ready for the impending action from privates to general they were not expecting a battle and were engaged in peaceful occupations the cavalry feeding the horses and the infantry collecting wood he hirest deny and rank said the German colonel of the Hussars flushing and addressing an adjutant who had ridden up so let him do what he will but I cannot sacrifice my Hussars bugler, sounds he retreat but haste was becoming imperative cannon and musketry mingling together thundered on the right and in the center while the capotes of Lawn's sharpshooters were already seen crossing the mill dam and forming up within twice the range of a musket shot the general in command of the infantry went toward his horse with jerky steps and having mounted drew himself up very straight and tall and rode to the Pavlegrad commander the commanders met with polite bows but with secret malevolence in their hearts once again colonel said the general I can't leave half my men in the wood I beg of you I beg of you he repeated to occupy the position and prepare for an attack I beg of you yourself not to mix and but is not your business suddenly replied the irate colonel if you are in the cavalry I am not in the cavalry colonel but I am a Russian general and if you are not aware of the fact criteria to your excellency suddenly shouted the colonel touching his horse and turning purple in the face will you be so good to come to the front and see that this position is no good I don't wish to destroy my men for your pleasure you forget yourself colonel I am not considering my own pleasure and I won't allow it to be said taking the colonel's outburst as a challenge to his courage the general expanded his chest and rode frowning beside him to the front line as if their differences would be settled there amongst the bullets they reached the front several bullets sped over them and they halted in silence there was nothing fresh to be seen from the line for from where they had been before it had been evident that it was impossible for cavalry to act among the bushes and broken ground as well as that the French were out flanking our left the general and colonel looked sternly and significantly at one another like two fighting cocks preparing for battle each vainly trying to detect signs of cowardice in the other both passed the examination successfully as there was nothing to be said and neither wished to give occasion for it to be alleged that he had been the first to leave the range of fire they would have remained there for a long time testing each other's courage had it not been that just then they heard the rattle of musketry and a muffled shout almost behind them in the wood the French had attacked the men collecting wood in the cocks it was no longer possible for the Hussars to retreat with the infantry they were cut off from the line of retreat on the left by the French however inconvenient to position it was now necessary to attack through for themselves the squadron in which Rostov was serving had scarcely time to mount before it was halted facing the enemy again as at the ends bridge there was nothing between the squadron and the enemy and again that terrible dividing line of uncertainty and fear resembling the line separating the living from the dead lay between them all were conscious of this unseen line whether they would cross it or not and how they would cross it agitated them all the colonel rode to the front angrily gave some reply to questions put to him by the officers and like a man desperately insisting on having his own way gave an order no one said anything definite but the rumor of an attack spread through the squadron the command to form up rang out and the savers whizzed as they were drawn to the front still no one moved the troops of the left flank infantry and his ours alike felt that the commander did not himself know what to do and this irresolution communicated itself to the men if only they would be quick thought Rostov feeling that at last the time had come to experience the joy of an attack of which he had so often heard from his fellow his ours forward with God the lads rang out Dinozov's voice at a twat forward the horse's croups began to sway in the front line Rook pulled at the reins and started of his own accord before him on the right Rostov saw the front lines of his his ours and still farther ahead a dark line which he could not see distinctly but took to be the enemy shots could be heard but some way off faster came the word of command and Rostov felt Rook's flanks drooping as he broke into a gallop Rostov anticipated his horse's movements and became more and more elated he had noticed a solitary tree ahead of him this tree had been in the middle of the line that had seemed so terrible and now he had crossed that line and not only was there nothing terrible but everything was becoming more and more happy and animated oh how I will slash at him thought Rostov gripping the hilt of his saber hurrah came a roar of voices let anyone come my way now thought Rostov driving his spurs into Rook and letting him go with a full gallop so that he outstripped the others ahead the enemy was already visible suddenly something like a birch broom seemed to sweep over the squadron Rostov raised his saber ready to strike but at that instant the trooper Nikotenko, who was galloping ahead shot away from him and Rostov felt as in a dream that he continued to be carried forward with unnatural speed but yet stayed on the same spot from behind him Bundarchuk, a Hazar he knew jolted against him and looked angrily at him Bundarchuk's horse swerved and galloped past how is it I am not moving I have fallen I am killed Rostov asked and answered at the same instant he was alone in the middle of a field instead of the moving horses and Hazar's backs he saw nothing before him but the motionless earth and the stubble around him there was warm blood under his arm no, I am wounded and the horses killed Rook tried to rise his forelegs but fell back pinning his rider's leg blood was flowing from his head he struggled but could not rise Rostov also tried to rise but fell back his saber-tosh having become entangled in the saddle where our men were and were the French he did not know there was no one near having disentangled his leg he rose where on which side was now the line that had so sharply divided the two armies he asked himself and could not answer can something bad have happened to me he wondered as he got up and at that moment he felt that something superfluous was hanging on his benumbed left arm the wrist felt as if it were not his he examined his hands carefully, vainly trying to find blood on it ah, here are people coming he thought joyfully seeing some men running toward him, they will help me in front came a man wearing a strange shackle and a blue coat swarthy, sunburned and with a hooked nose then came two more and many more running behind one of them said something strange not in Russian in among the hide most of these men wearing similar shackles was a Russian hizar he was being held by the arms and his horse was being led behind him it must be one of ours a prisoner, yes can it be that they will take me too who are these men thought Rostov scarcely believing his eyes can they be French he looked at the approaching Frenchman and though but a moment before he had been galloping to get at them and hack them to pieces he now seemed so awful that he could not believe his eyes who are they why are they running can they be coming at me and why, to kill me me who everyone is so fond of he remembered his mother's love for him and his family and his friends and the enemy's intention to kill him seemed impossible but perhaps they may do it for more than 10 seconds he stood not moving from the spot or realizing the situation the foremost Frenchman the one with the hooked nose was already so close that the expression of his face could be seen and the excited alien face of that man his bayonet hanging down holding his breath and running so lightly frightened Rostov he seized his pistol and instead of firing it the Frenchman and ran with all his might toward the bushes he did not now run with the feeling of doubt and conflict with which he had trodden the ends bridge but with the feeling of a hair fleeing from the hounds one single sentiment that of fear for his young and happy life possessed his whole being rapidly leaping the furrows he fled across the field with the impetuosity he used to show at catch play now and then turning his good natured pale young face to look back a shutter of terror went through him no better not look he thought but having reached the bushes he glanced around once more the French had fallen behind and just as he looked around the first man changed his run to a walk and turning shouted something loudly to a comrade farther back Rostov paused no there's some mistake thought he they can't have wanted to kill me but at the same time his left arm felt as heavy as if a 70 pound weight were tied to it he could run no more the Frenchman also stopped and took aim Rostov closed his eyes and stooped down one bullet and then another whistled past him he mustered his last remaining strength took hold of his left hand with his right and reached the bushes behind these were some Russian sharpshooters end of chapter 19 recording by Roger Maline war and peace book 2 chapter 20 read for LibriVox.org by Roger Maline the infantry regiments that had been caught unawares in the outskirts of the wood ran out of it the different companies were being mixed and retreated as a disorderly crowd one soldier in his fear uttered the senseless cry cut off that is so terrible in battle and that word infected the whole crowd with a feeling of panic surrounded cut off were lost shouted the fugitives the moment he heard the firing and the cry from behind the general realized that something dreadful had happened to his regiment and the thought that he the exemplary officer of many years service who had never been to blame might be held responsible at headquarters for negligence or inefficiency so staggered him that forgetting the recalcitrant cavalry colonel his own dignity as a general and above all quite forgetting the danger and all regard for self-preservation he clutched the crupper of his saddle and spurring his horse galloped to the regiment under a hail of bullets which fell around but fortunately missed him his one desire was to know what was happening and at any cost correct or remedy the mistake if he had made one so that he an exemplary officer of 22 years service who had never been censured should not be held to blame having galloped safely through the French he reached a field behind the cops across which our men regardless of orders were running and descending the valley that moment of moral hesitation which decides the fate of battles had arrived would this disorderly crowd of soldiers attend to the voice of their commander or would they disregarding him continue their flight despite his desperate shouts that used to seem so terrible to the soldiers despite his furious purple countenance distorted out of all likeness to his former self and the flourishing of his saber the soldiers all continued to run talking firing into the air and disobeying orders the moral hesitation which decided the fate of battles was evidently culminating in a panic the general had a fit of coughing as a result of shouting and of the powder smoke and stopped in despair everything seemed lost but at that moment the French who were attacking suddenly and without any apparent reason ran back and disappeared from the outskirts and Russian sharpshooters showed themselves in the cops it was Timokin's company which alone had maintained its order in the wood and having lain in ambush in a ditch now attacked the French unexpectedly Timokin armed only with a sword had rushed at the enemy with such a desperate cry and such mad drunken determination that taken by surprise the French had thrown down their muskets and run Dolikov running beside Timokin killed the Frenchman at close quarters and was the first to seize the surrendering French officer by his collar our fugitives returned the battalions reformed and the French who had nearly cut our left flank in half were for the moment repulsed our reserve units were able to join up and the fight was at an end the regimental commander and Major Ekonomov had stopped beside a bridge letting the retreating companies pass by them when a soldier came up and took hold of the commander's stirrup almost leaning against him the man was wearing a bluish coat of broadcloth he had no knapsack or cap his head was bandaged and over his shoulder a French munition pouch was slung he had an officer sword in his hand the soldier was pale his blue eyes looked impudently into the commander's face and his lips were smiling when the commander was occupied and giving instructions to Major Ekonomov he could not help taking notice of the soldier your excellency here are two trophies said Dolokov pointing to the French sword and pouch I have taken an officer prisoner I stopped the company Dolokov breathed heavily from weariness and spoke in abrupt sentences the whole company can bear witness you will remember this your excellency all right all right replied the commander and turned to Major Ekonomov but Dolokov did not go away he untied the handkerchief around his head pulled it off and showed the blood congealed on his hair a bayonet wound remained at the front remember your excellency Tushin's battery had been forgotten and only at the very end of the action did Prince Bagretian still hearing the cannonade of the center send his orderly staff officer and later Prince Andrew also to order the battery to retire as quickly as possible when the supports attached to Tushin's battery had been moved away in the middle of the action by someone's order the battery had continued firing and was only not captured by the French because the enemy could not surmise that anyone could have the effrontery to continue firing from four quite undefined guns on the contrary the energetic action of that battery led the French to suppose that here in the center the main Russian forces were concentrated twice they had attempted to attack this point but on each occasion had been driven back by grapeshot from the four isolated guns on the hillock soon after Prince Bagretian had left him Tushin had succeeded in setting fire to Shon-Greber look at them scurrying it's burning just see the smoke fine grand look at the smoke the smoke exclaimed the artillery men brightening up all the guns without waiting for orders were being fired in the direction of the conflagration as if urging each other on the soldiers cried in each shot fine that's good look at it grand the fire fanned by the breeze was rapidly spreading the French columns that had advanced beyond the village went back but as though in revenge for this failure the enemy placed ten guns to the right of the village and began firing them at Tushin's battery in their childlike glee aroused by the fire and their luck in successfully canoning the French our artillery men only noticed this battery when two balls and then four more fell among our guns one knocking over two horses and another tearing off ammunition wagon driver's leg their spirits once roused were however not diminished but only changed character the horses were replaced by others from a reserve gun carriage the wounded were carried away and the four guns were turned against the ten gun battery Tushin's companion officer had been killed at the beginning of the engagement and within an hour seventeen of the forty men of the gun's crews had been disabled but the artillery men were still as merry and lively as ever twice they noticed the French appearing below them and then they fired grapeshot at them little Tushin moving feebly and awkwardly kept telling his orderly to refill my pipe for that one and then scattering sparks from it ran forward shading his eyes with a small hand to look at the French smack at him lads he kept saying seizing the guns by the wheels and working the screws himself amid the smoke deafened by the incessant reports which always made him jump Tushin not taking his pipe from his mouth ran from gun to gun now aiming, now counting the charges now giving orders about replacing dead or wounded horses and harnessing fresh ones standing in his feeble voice so high pitched and irresolute his face grew more and more animated only when a man was killed or wounded did he frown and turn away from the sight shouting angrily at the men who as is always the case hesitated about lifting the injured or dead the soldiers for the most part handsome fellows and as is always the case in an artillery company a head and shoulders taller and twice as broad as their officer all looked at their commander like children in an embarrassing situation and the expression on his face was invariably reflected on theirs owing to the terrible uproar and the necessity for concentration and activity Tushin did not experience the slightest unpleasant sense of fear and the thought that he might be killed or badly wounded never occurred to him on the contrary he became more and more elated it seemed to him that it was a very long time ago almost a day since he had first seen the enemy and fired the first shot and that the corner of the field he stood on was well known and familiar ground though he thought of everything considered everything and did everything the best of officers could do in his position he was in a state akin to feverish delirium or drunkenness from the deafening sounds of his own guns around him the battle and thud of the enemy's cannonballs from the flushed and perspiring faces of the crew bustling around the guns from the sight of the blood of men and horses from the little puffs of smoke on the enemy's side always followed by a ball flying past and striking the earth a man a gun a horse from the sight of all these things a fantastic world of his own had taken possession of his brain and at that moment afforded him pleasure the enemy's guns were in his fancy not guns but pipes from which occasional puffs were blown by an invisible smoker there he's puffing again muttered Tushin to himself as a small cloud rose from the hill and was born in the street to the left by the wind now look out for the ball we'll throw it back what do you want your honor asked an artilleryman standing close by who heard him muttering nothing only a shell he answered come along our Matvevna he said to himself Matvevna, daughter of Matthew was the name his fancy gave to the farthest gun of the battery which was large and of an old pattern the French swarming round their guns seemed to him like ants in that world the handsome drunkard number one of the second guns crew was uncle Tushin looked at him more often than anyone else and took delight in his every movement the sound of musketry at the foot of the hill now diminishing now increasing seemed like someone's breathing he listened intently to the ebb and flow of these sounds ah breathing again breathing he muttered to himself he imagined himself as an enormously tall powerful man who was throwing cannonballs at the French with both hands now then Matvevna dear old lady don't let me down he was saying as he moved from the gun when a strange unfamiliar voice called above his head Captain Tushin Captain Tushin turned round into Smay it was the staff officer who had turned him out of the booth at Grunth he was shouting in a gasping voice are you mad you have twice been ordered to retreat and you why are they down on me looking in alarm at his superior I don't he muttered holding up two fingers to his cap I but the staff officer did not finish what he wanted to say a cannonball flying close to him caused him to duck and bend over his horse he paused and just as he was about to say something more another ball stopped him he turned his horse and galloped off retire all to retire he shouted from a distance the soldiers laughed a moment later an adjutant arrived with the same order it was Prince Andrew the first thing he saw on riding up to the space where Tushin's guns were stationed was an unharnessed horse with a broken leg that lay screaming pityously beside the harnessed horses blood was gushing from its leg as from a spring among the limbers lay several dead men one ball after another passed over as he approached and he felt a nervous shutter run down his spine but the mere thought of being afraid roused him again I cannot be afraid thought he and dismounted slowly among the guns he delivered the order and did not leave the battery he decided to have the guns removed from the guns and withdrawn in his presence together with Tushin stepping across the bodies and under a terrible fire from the French he attended to the removal of the guns a staff officer was here a minute ago but skipped off said an artilleryman to Prince Andrew not like your honor Prince Andrew said nothing to Tushin they were both so busy as to seem not to notice one another when having limbered up the only two cannon that remained uninjured out of the four they began moving down the hill one shattered gun and one unicorn were left behind Prince Andrew rode up to Tushin well till we meet again he said holding out his hand to Tushin goodbye my dear fellow said Tushin dear soul goodbye my dear fellow and for some unknown reason tears suddenly filled his eyes end of chapter 20 recording by Roger Maline war and peace book 2 chapter 21 read for LibriVox.org by Roger Maline the wind had fallen and black clouds merging with the powder smoke hung low over the field of battle on the horizon it was growing dark and the glow of two conflagrations was the more conspicuous the cannonade was dying down but the rattle of musketree behind and on the right sounded oftener and near as soon as Tushin with his guns continually driving round or coming upon wounded men was out of range of fire and had descended into the dip he was met by some of the staff among them the staff officer and Zerkhov who had been twice sent to Tushin's battery but had never reached it interrupting one another they all gave and transmitted orders as to how to proceed reprimanding and reproaching him Tushin gave no orders and silently fearing to speak because at every word he felt ready to weep without knowing why rode behind on his artillery nag though the orders were to abandon the wounded many of them dragged themselves after troops and begged for seats for gun carriages the jaunty infantry officer who just before the battle had rushed out of Tushin's waddle shed was laid with a bullet in his stomach on Matvevna's carriage at the foot of the hill a pale hizarkadet supporting one hand with the other came up to Tushin and asked for a seat Captain, for God's sake I've hurt my arm, he said timidly for God's sake it was plain that this cadet had already repeatedly asked for a lift and been refused he asked in a hesitating piteous voice tell them to give me a seat for God's sake give him a seat said Tushin lay a cloak for him to sit on lad he said addressing his favorite soldier and where is the wounded officer he has been sent down to Tushin he has been sent down he died, replied someone help him up sit down dear fellow sit down spread out the cloak Antonov the cadet was Rostov with one hand he supported the other he was pale and his jaw trembled shivering feverishly he was placed on Matvevna the gun from which they had removed the dead officer the cloak they spread under him was wet with blood which stained his britches and arm what are you wounded my lad said Tushin approaching the gun on which Rostov sat no it's a sprain then what is this blood in the gun carriage inquired Tushin it was the officer your honor stained it answered the artilleryman wiping away the blood with his coat sleeve as if apologizing for the state of his gun it was all that they could do to get the guns up the rise aided by the infantry and having reached the village of Gruntestorf they halted it had grown so dark that one could not distinguish the uniforms ten paces off and the firing had begun to subside suddenly nearby on the right shouting and firing were again heard that gleamed in the darkness this was the last French attack and was met by soldiers who had sheltered in the village houses they all rushed out of the village again but Tushin's guns could not move and the artillerymen Tushin and the cadet exchanged silent glances as they awaited their fate the firing died down and soldiers talking eagerly streamed out of a side street not heard Petrov asked one we've given it to him hot mate they won't make another push now said another you couldn't see a thing how they shot at their own fellows nothing could be seen pitch dark brother isn't there something to drink the French had been repulsed for the last time and again and again in the complete darkness Tushin's guns moved forward by the humming infantry as by a frame in the darkness it seemed as though a gloomy unseen river was flowing always in one direction humming with whispers and talk and the sound of hoofs and wheels amid the general rumble the groans and voices of the wounded were more distinctly heard than any other sound in the darkness of the night the gloom that enveloped the army was filled with their groans which seemed to melt into one of the darkness of the night after a while the moving mass became agitated someone rode past on a white horse followed by his suite and said something in passing what did he say where to now halt is it did he thank us came eager questions from all sides the whole moving mass began pressing closer together and a report spread that they were ordered to halt evidently those in front had halted all remained where they were in the middle of the muddy road fires were lighted and the talk became more audible Captain Tushin, having given orders to his company, sent a soldier to find a dressing station or a doctor for the cadet and sat down by a bonfire the soldiers had kindled on the road Rostov too dragged himself to the fire and he was seen cold and damp a feverish shivering shook his whole body drowsiness was irresistibly mastering him but he kept awake by an excruciating pain in his arm for which he could find no satisfactory position he kept closing his eyes and then again looking at the fire which seemed to him dazzlingly red and at the feeble round-shouldered figure of Tushkin who was sitting cross-legged Tushkin's large, kind, intelligent eyes were fixed with sympathy and commiseration on Rostov who saw that Tushin with his whole heart wished to help him but could not from all sides were heard the footsteps and talk of the infantry who were walking driving past and settling down all around the sound of voices the tramping feet the horse's hoofs moving in mud the crackling of wood fires near and afar merged into one tremulous rumble it was no longer as before a dark, unseen river flowing through the gloom but a dark sea swelling and gradually subsiding after a storm Rostov looked at and listened listlessly to what passed before and around him an infantryman came to the fire squatted on his heels held his hands to the blaze and turned away his face you don't mind, Your Honor? he asked Tushin I've lost my company, Your Honor I don't know where such bad luck with the soldier an infantry officer with a bandaged cheek came up to the bonfire and addressing Tushin asked him to have the guns moved to trifle to let a wagon go past after he had gone two soldiers rushed to the campfire they were quarreling and fighting desperately each trying to snatch from the other a boot they were both holding on to you picked it up? I daresay you're very smart one of them shouted hoarsely then a thin pale soldier his neck bandaged with bloodstained leg band came up and in angry tones asked the artilleryman for water must one die like a dog? said he Tushin told them to give the man some water then a cheerful soldier ran up begging a little fire for the infantry a nice little hot torch for the infantry good luck to you fellow countrymen thanks for the fire we'll return it with interest said he carrying away into the darkness a glowing stick next came four soldiers carrying something heavy on a cloak and passed by the fire one of them stumbled who the devil has put the logs on the road snarled he he's dead why carry him said another shot up and they disappeared into the darkness with their load still aching Tushin asked Rostov in a whisper yes your honor you're wanted by the general he is in the hut here said a gunner coming up to Tushin coming friend Tushin rose and buttoning his greatcoat and pulling it straight walked away from the fire not far from the artillery campfire in a hut that had been prepared for him Prince Bagracian sat at dinner talking with some commanding officers who had gathered at his quarters the little old man with the half closed eyes was there greedily gnawing a mutton bone and the general who had served blamelessly for twenty-two years flushed by a glass of vodka and the dinner and a staff officer with the signet ring and Zerkhov uneasily glancing at them all and Prince Andrew pale with compressed lips and feverishly glittering eyes in a corner of the hut stood a standard captured from the French with the naïve face was feeling its texture shaking his head in perplexity perhaps because the banner really interested him perhaps because it was hard for him hungry as he was to look on at a dinner where there was no place for him in the next hut there was a French colonel who had been taken prisoner by our dragoons our officers were flocking in to look at him Prince Bagracian was thanking the individual commanders and inquiring into details of the action and our losses the general whose regiment had been inspected at Bruneau was informing the Prince that as soon as the action began he had withdrawn from the wood mustered the men who were wood cutting and allowing the French to pass him had made a bayonet charge with two battalions and had broken up the French troops when I saw your excellency that their first battalion was disorganized I stopped in the road and thought I'll let them come on and we'll meet them with the fire of the whole battalion and that's what I did the general had so wished to do this and was so sorry he had not managed to do it that it seemed to him as if it had really happened perhaps it might really have been so could one possibly make out amid all that confusion what did or did not happen the way your excellency I should inform you he continued remembering Dolochov's conversation with Katoozov and his last interview with the gentleman ranker the private Dolochov who was reduced to the ranks took a French officer prisoner in my presence and particularly distinguished himself I saw the Pavlograd Hazar's attack there your excellency chimed in Zorkov looking uneasily around he had not seen the Hazars all that day but had heard about them from an infantry officer they broke up two squares your excellency several of those present smiled at Zorkov's words expecting one of his usual jokes but noticing that what he was saying redounded to the glory of our arms and of the day's work they assumed a serious expression though many of them knew that what he was saying was a lie devoid of any foundation Prince Bagracian turned to the old colonel gentlemen I thank you all all arms have behaved heroically infantry cavalry and artillery how was it that two guns were abandoned in the center he inquired searching with his eyes for someone Prince Bagracian did not ask about the guns in the left flank he knew that all the guns there had been abandoned at the very beginning of the action I think I sent you he added turning to the staff officer on duty one was