“But in what position are we going to attack him? I was at the outposts today, and it’s impossible to tell precisely where he’s camped with his main forces,” said Prince Andrei.
He wanted to explain to Dolgorukov the plan of attack he had worked out for himself.
“Oh, that makes no difference at all,” Dolgorukov began speaking quickly, getting up and unfolding a map on the table. “All the possibilities have been foreseen: if he’s camped by Brünn…”
And Prince Dolgorukov quickly and vaguely recounted Weyrother’s plan for a flanking movement.
Prince Andrei started to object and demonstrate his own plan, which might have been just as good as Weyrother’s, but had the shortcoming that Weyrother’s had already been approved. As soon as Prince Andrei began to demonstrate the disadvantages of the latter and the advantages of his own, Prince Dolgorukov stopped listening to him, and gazed absentmindedly not at the map, but at Prince Andrei’s face.
“Anyhow, there’ll be a council of war at Kutuzov’s today: you can speak all this out there,” said Dolgorukov.
“I’ll do just that,” said Prince Andrei, stepping away from the map.
“What are you worrying about, gentlemen?” asked Bilibin, who up to then had been listening to their conversation with a merry smile and was now obviously going to come out with a quip. “Whether there’s victory or defeat tomorrow, the glory of Russian arms is assured. Besides your Kutuzov, there’s not a single Russian leader of a column. The leaders are: Herr General Wimpfen, le comte de Langeron, le prince de Liechtenstein, le prince de Hohenloe, et enfin Prsch…Prsch…et ainsi de suite, comme tous les noms polonais.”*262 6
“Taisez-vous, mauvaise langue,”*263 said Dolgorukov. “It’s not true, there are now two Russians: Miloradovich and Dokhturov, and there would have been a third, Count Arakcheev, but he has weak nerves.”
“However, I think Mikhail Ilarionovich has come out,” said Prince Andrei. “I wish you luck and success, gentlemen,” he added and left, after shaking hands with Dolgorukov and Bilibin.
On the way home, Prince Andrei could not help asking Kutuzov, who was sitting silently next to him, what he thought about the next day’s battle.
Kutuzov looked sternly at his adjutant, paused, and said:
“I think the battle will be lost, and I said so to Count Tolstoy and asked him to convey it to the sovereign. And what do you think he replied? Eh, mon cher général, je me mêle de riz et des côtelettes, mêlez-vous des affaires de la guerre.†264 Yes…That was the answer I got!”
XII
After nine in the evening, Weyrother moved with his plans to Kutuzov’s quarters, where a council of war was called. All the leaders of columns were summoned to the commander in chief, and, apart from Bagration, who refused to come, they all arrived at the appointed time.
Weyrother, who was fully in charge of the forthcoming battle, presented, in his liveliness and briskness, a sharp contrast with the displeased and drowsy Kutuzov, who reluctantly played the role of chairman and leader of the council of war. Weyrother obviously felt himself at the head of the movement which had now become irrepressible. He was like a horse harnessed to a wagon and running downhill. Whether he was pulling or being pushed, he did not know; but he was racing with all possible speed, having no time left to discuss what this movement would lead to. That evening Weyrother had gone twice to inspect the enemy lines in person and twice to the emperors, Russian and Austrian, to report and explain, and then to his office, where he had dictated the German disposition. Exhausted, he now arrived at Kutuzov’s.
He was clearly so preoccupied that he even forgot to be respectful with the commander in chief: he interrupted him, spoke quickly, unclearly, not looking into his interlocutor’s eyes, not answering the questions put to him, was covered with mud, and looked pitiful, exhausted, disconcerted, and at the same time presumptuous and proud.
Kutuzov occupied a modest nobleman’s castle near Ostralitz. In the big drawing room, turned into the commander in chief’s office, were gathered: Kutuzov himself, Weyrother, and the members of the council of war. They were having tea. They were only waiting for Prince Bagration in order to begin the council of war. Finally, after seven o’clock Prince Bagration’s orderly officer arrived with the news that the prince could not be there. Prince Andrei came in to report that to the commander in chief, and, availing himself of the permission given him earlier by Kutuzov to be present at the council, remained in the room.
“Since Prince Bagration won’t be coming, we can begin,” said Weyrother, hurriedly getting up from his place and approaching the table, on which an enormous map of the environs of Brünn was spread.
Kutuzov, in an unbuttoned uniform, from which his fat neck, as if released, poured out over the collar, was sitting in a Voltaire armchair, his pudgy old man’s hands placed symmetrically on the two armrests, and was almost asleep. At the sound of Weyrother’s voice, he opened his one eye with effort.
“Yes, yes, please, or it will get late,” he said, and, nodding his head, lowered it and again closed his eye.
If the members of the council at first thought Kutuzov was pretending to sleep, the sounds his nose produced during the reading that followed proved that for the commander in chief at that moment the point of the matter was something far more important than a wish to show his contempt for the disposition or for anything at alclass="underline" the point of the matter was to satisfy the irresistible human need for sleep. He was indeed asleep. Weyrother, with the gesture of a man who is too busy to waste even a moment of his time, glanced at Kutuzov and, assuring himself that he was asleep, took up the paper and began to read the disposition for the future battle in a loud, monotonous tone, under the title, which he also read:
“Disposition for the attack on the enemy’s position behind Kobelnitz and Sokolnitz, 20 November 1805.”
The disposition was very complex and difficult. The original began:
Da der Feind mit seinem linken Flügel an die mit Wald bedeckten Berge lehnt und sich mit seinem rechten Flügel längs Kobelnitz und Sokolnitz hinter die dort befindlichen Teiche zieht, wir im Gegenteil mit unserem linken Flügel seinen rechten sehr debordieren, so ist es vorteilhaft letzteren Flügel des Feindes zu attakieren, besonders wenn wir die Dörfer Sokolnitz und Kobelnitz im Besitze haben, wodurch wir dem Feind zugleich in die Flanke fallen und ihn auf der Fläche zwischen Schlapanitz und dem Thuerassa-Walde verfolgen können, indem wir dem Defileen von Schlapanitz und Bellowitz ausweichen, welche die feindliche Front decken. Zu diesem Endzwecke ist es nötig…die erste Kolonne marschiert…die zweite Kolonne marschiert…die dritte Kolonne marschiert…”*265 and so on, read Weyrother. The generals seemed to listen reluctantly to the difficult disposition. The tall, fair-haired General Buxhöwden stood leaning his back against the wall, and, resting his eyes on the burning candle, seemed not to be listening and even not to want it to be thought that he was listening. Directly opposite Weyrother, fixing his shining, wide-open eyes on him, in a martial pose, hands on his knees, elbows turned out, sat ruddy Miloradovich, with raised-up mustache and shoulders. He was obstinately silent, staring into Weyrother’s face, and took his eyes off him only when the Austrian chief of staff fell silent. Then Miloradovich looked around significantly at the other generals. But by the significance of this significant gaze it was impossible to tell whether he agreed or disagreed, was satisfied or dissatisfied with the disposition. Closest of all to Weyrother, Count Langeron sat and, with a subtle smile on his southern French face, which did not abandon him throughout the reading, gazed at his slender fingers, quickly twirling by the corners a golden snuffbox with a portrait. In the middle of one of the longest periods, he stopped the spinning movement of the snuffbox, raised his head, and, with an unpleasant politeness at the very corners of his thin lips, interrupted Weyrother and wanted to say something; but the Austrian general, without breaking off his reading, frowned angrily and waved his elbows, as if to say: later, later you can tell me your thoughts, but now kindly look at the map and listen. Langeron looked up with an expression of perplexity, glanced at Miloradovich as if seeking an explanation, but, meeting Miloradovich’s significant gaze, which signified nothing, he sadly lowered his eyes and again began twirling the snuffbox.