Swedish general； Armfeldt； the general on the staff Woltzogen； Wintzengerode （whom Napoleon had called a renegade French subject）； Michaud； Toll； Count Stein—by no means a military man—and finally Pfuhl； who was； so Prince Andrey had heard； la cheville ouvrière of everything。 Prince Andrey had the opportunity of getting a good view of him； as Pfuhl came in shortly after his arrival and stopped for a minute to say a few words to Tchernishev before going on into the drawing…room。
At the first glance Pfuhl； in his badly cut uniform of a Russian general； which looked out of keeping； like some fancy dress costume on him； seemed to Prince Andrey like a familiar figure； though he had never seen him before。 He was of the same order as Weierother； and Mack； and Schmidt； and many other German generals； men of theory； whom Prince Andrey had seen in the war of 1808； but he was a more perfect type of the class than any of them。 Such a typical German theorist； combining in himself all the characteristics of those other Germans； Prince Andrey had never seen before。
Pfuhl was short and very thin； but broad…boned； of a coarsely robust build； with broad hips and projecting shoulder…blades。 His face was wrinkled； he had deep…set eyes； his hair had obviously been hastily brushed smooth in front； but stuck out behind in quaint wisps。 Looking nervously and irritably about him； he walked in as though he were afraid of everything in the great room he had entered。 With a clumsy gesture； holding his sword； he turned to Tchernishev； asking him where the Tsar was。 He was unmistakably eager to get through the rooms； to get the bows and greetings over as quickly as possible； and to sit down to work at a map； where he would feel at home。 He gave a hurried nod in response to Tchernishev’s words； and smiled ironically on hearing that the Tsar was inspecting the fortifications that he； Pfuhl； had planned in accordance with his theory。 He muttered something in the jerky bass； in which conceited Germans often speak； “silly fool…” or “damn the whole business…” or “some idiocy’s sure to come of that。” Prince Andrey did not catch his words； and would have passed on； but Tchernishev introduced him to Pfuhl； observing that he had just come from Turkey； where the war had been so successfully concluded。 Pfuhl barely glanced； not at； but across Prince Andrey； and commented； laughing： “A model that war must have been of every principle of tactics！” And； laughing contemptuously； he went on into the room； from which the sound of voices came。
It was evident that Pfuhl—disposed at all times to be irritable and sarcastic—was that day particularly irritated at their having dared to inspect his camp and to criticise it without him。 Thanks to his Austerlitz experiences； Prince Andrey could from this one brief interview form a clear idea of the man’s character。 Pfuhl was one of those hopelessly； immutably conceited men； ready to face martyrdom for their own ideas； conceited as only Germans can be； just because it is only a German’s conceit that is based on an abstract idea—science； that is； the supposed possession of absolute truth。 The Frenchman is conceited from supposing himself mentally and physically to be inordinately fascinating both to men and to women。 An Englishman is conceited on the ground of being a citizen of the best…constituted state in the world； and also because he as an Englishman always knows what is the correct thing to do； and knows that everything that he； as an Englishman； does do is indisputably the correct thing。 An Italian is conceited from being excitable and easily forgetting himself and other people。 A Russian is conceited precisely because he knows nothing and cares to know nothing； since he does not believe it possible to know anything fully。 A conceited German is the worst of them all； and the most hardened of all； and the most repulsive of all； for he imagines that he possesses the truth in a science of his own invention； which is to him absolute truth。
Pfuhl was evidently one of these men。 He had a science—the theory of the oblique attack—which he had deduced from the wars of Frederick the Great； and everything he came across in more recent military history seemed to him imbecility； barbarism； crude struggles in which so many blunders were committed on both sides that those wars could not be called war at all。 They had no place in his theory and could not be made a subject for science at all。
In 1806 Pfuhl had been one of those responsible for the plan of campaign that ended in Jena and Auerstadt。 But in the failure of that war he did not see the slightest evidence of the weakness of his theory。 On the contrary； the whole failure was to his thinking entirely due to the departures that had been made from his theory； and he used to say with his characteristic gleeful sarcasm： “Didn’t I always say the whole thing was going to the devil？” Pfuhl was one of those theorists who so love their theory that they lose sight of the object of the theory—its application to practice。 His love for his theory led him to hate all practical considerations； and he would not hear of them。 He positively rejoiced in failure； for failure； being due to some departure in practice from the purity of the abstract theory； only convinced him of the correctness of his theory。
He said a few words about the present war to Prince Andrey and Tchernishev with the expression of a man who knows beforehand that everything will go wrong； and is not； indeed； displeased at this being so。 The uncombed wisps of hairs sticking out straight from his head behind； and the hurriedly brushed locks in front； seemed to suggest this with a peculiar eloquence。
He went on into the next room； and the querulous bass notes of his voice were at once audible there。
Chapter 11
PRINCE ANDREY had hardly seen the last of Pfuhl when Count Bennigsen came hurrying into the room； and bestowing a nod on Bolkonsky； went straight through to the study； giving some instruction to his adjutant。 The Tsar was following him； and Bennigsen had hurried on to prepare something； and to be in readiness to meet him。 Tchernishev and Prince Andrey went out into the porch。 The Tsar； looking tired out； was dismounting from his horse。 Marchese Paulucci was saying something to him。 Turning his head to the left； the Tsar was listening with a look of displeasure to Paulucci； who was speaking with peculiar warmth。 The Tsar moved； evidently anxious to end the conversation； but the Italian； flushed and excited； followed him； still talking； and oblivious of etiquette。
“As for the man who has counselled the camp at Drissa；” Paulucci was saying just as the Tsar； mounting the steps and noticing Prince Andrey； was looking more intently at his unfamiliar face。 “As for him； sire；” Paulucci persisted desperately； as though unable to restrain himself； “I see no alternative but the madhouse or the gallows。”
Not attending； and appearing not to hear the Italian； the Tsar recognised Bolkonsky and addressed him graciously：
“I am very glad to see you。 Go in where they are meeting and wait for me。”
The Tsar passed on into the study。 He was followed by Prince Pyotr Mihalovitch Volkonsky and Baron Stein； and the study door was closed after them。 Prince Andrey； taking advantage of the Tsar’s permission to do so； accompanied Paulucci； whom he had met in Turkey； into the drawing…room where the council had assembled。
Prince Pyotr Mihalovitch Volkonsky was performing the duties of a sort of informed head of the Tsar’s staff。 Volkonsky came out of the study and bringing out maps laid them on the table； and mentioned the questions on which he wished to hear the opinion of the gentlemen present。 The important fact was that news （which afterwards proved to be false） had been received in the night of movements of the French with the object of making a circuit round the camp at Drissa。
The first to begin speaking was General Armfeldt； who unexpectedly proposed； as a means of avoiding the present difficulty； a quite new project； inexplicable except as a proof of his desire to show that he； too； had a suggestion of his own。 His idea was that the army should move into a position away from the Petersburg and Moscow roads； and； united there； await the enemy。It was evident that this project had been formed by Armfeldt long before； and that he brought it forward now not so much with the object of meeting the present problem； to which it presented no solution； as of seizing the opportunity of explaining its merits。 It was one of the millions of suggestions which might be made； one as reasonable as another； so long as no one had any idea what form the war would take。 Some of those present attacked his idea； others supported it。 The young Colonel Toll criticised the Swedish general’s project with more heat than any one； and in the course of his remarks upon it drew out of a side pocket a manuscript； which he asked leave to read aloud。 In this somewhat diffuse note； Toll proposed another plan of campaign—entirely opposed to Armfeldt’s； and also to Pfuhl’s plan。 Paulucci； in raising objections to Toll’s scheme； proposed a plan of direct advance and attack； which he declared to be the only means of extricating us from our present precarious position； and from the trap （so he called the Drissa camp） in which we were placed。 During all this discussion； Pfuhl and his interpreter Woltzogen （who was his mouth…piece in the court world） were silent。 Pfuhl merely snorted contemptuously and turned his back to indicate that he would never stoop to reply to the rubbish he was hearing。 But when Prince Volkonsky； who presided over the debate； called upon him to give his opinion； he simply said： “Why ask me？ General Armfeldt has proposed an excellent position with the rear exposed to the enemy。 Or why not the attack suggested by this Italian gentleman？ A fine idea！ Or a retreat？ Excellent； too。 Why ask me？” said he。 “You all know better than I do； it appears。”
But when Volkonsky； frowning； said that it was in the Tsar’s name that he asked his opinion； Pfuhl rose； and growing suddenly excited； began to speak：
“You have muddled and spoilt it all。 You would all know better than I； and now you come to me to ask how to set things right。 There is n