But words alone would be no proof that he grasped the significance of events at the time。 His actions—all without the slightest deviation— were directed toward the one threefold aim： first； to concentrate all his forces to strike a blow at the French； secondly； to defeat them； and thirdly； to drive them out of Russia； alleviating as far as was possible the sufferings of the people and the soldiers in doing so。
He； the lingerer Kutuzov； whose motto was always “Time and Patience；” the sworn opponent of precipitate action； he fought the battle of Borodino； and made all his preparations for it with unwonted solemnity。 Before the battle of Austerlitz he foretold that it would be lost； but at Borodino； in spite of the conviction of the generals that the battle was a defeat； in spite of the fact； unprecedented in history； of his army being forced to retreat after the victory； he alone declared in opposition to all that it was a victory； and persisted in that opinion to his dying day。 He was alone during the whole latter part of the campaign in insisting that there was no need of fighting now； that it was a mistake to cross the Russian frontier and to begin a new war。 It is easy enough now that all the events with their consequences lie before us to grasp their significance； if only we refrain from attributing to the multitude the aims that only existed in the brains of some dozen or so of men。
But how came that old man； alone in opposition to the opinion of all； to gauge so truly the importance of events from the national standard； so that he never once was false to the best interests of his country？
The source of this extraordinary intuition into the significance of contemporary events lay in the purity and fervour of patriotic feeling in his heart。
It was their recognition of this feeling in him that led the people in such a strange manner to pick him out； an old man out of favour； as the chosen leader of the national war； against the will of the Tsar。 And this feeling alone it was to which he owed his exalted position； and there he exerted all his powers as commander…in…chief not to kill and maim men； but to save them and have mercy on them。
This simple； modest； and therefore truly great figure； could not be cast into the false mould of the European hero； the supposed leader of men； that history has invented。
To the flunkey no man can be great； because the flunkey has his own flunkey conception of greatness。
Chapter 6
THE 5TH of November was the first day of the so…called battle of Krasnoe。
Many had been the blunders and disputes among the generals； who had not reached their proper places； many the contradictory orders carried to them by adjutants； but towards evening it was clear that the enemy were everywhere in flight； and that there would not and could not be a battle。 In the evening Kutuzov set out from Krasnoe towards Dobroe； to which place the headquarters had that day been removed。
It had been a clear； frosty day。 Kutuzov； mounted on his fat； white little horse； was riding towards Dobroe； followed by an immense suite of generals； whispering their dissatisfaction behind his back。 Seven thousand French prisoners had been taken that day； and all along the road they met parties of them； crowding to warm themselves round the camp…fires。 Not far from Dobroe they heard a loud hum of talk from an immense crowd of tattered prisoners； bandaged and wrapped up in rags of all sorts； standing in the road near a long row of unharnessed French cannons。 At the approach of the commander…in…chief the buzz of talk died away； and all eyes were fixed upon Kutuzov； who moved slowly along the road； wearing a white cap with a red band； and a wadded overcoat； that set in a hunch on his round shoulders。 One of the generals began explaining to Kutuzov where the prisoners and the guns had been taken。
Kutuzov seemed absorbed in anxious thought； and did not hear the general’s words。 He screwed up his eyes with an air of displeasure； and gazed intently at the figures of the prisoners； who presented a particularly pitiable appearance。 The majority of the French soldiers were disfigured by frost…bitten cheeks and noses； and almost all of them had red； swollen； and streaming eyes。
One group of Frenchmen was standing close by the road； and two soldiers； one with his face covered with sores； were tearing at a piece of raw meat with their hands。 There was something bestial and horrible in the cursory glance they cast on the approaching generals； and the frenzied expression with which the soldier with the sore face； after a glance at Kutuzov； turned away and went on with what he was doing。
Kutuzov looked a long while intently at these two soldiers； frowning more than before； he half…closed his eyelids； and shook his head thoughtfully。 Further on； he noticed a Russian soldier； who was saying something friendly to a French prisoner； laughing and clapping him on the shoulder。 Kutuzov shook his head again with the same expression。
“What do you say？” he asked the general； who was trying to draw the commander…in…chief’s attention to the French flags； that were set up in front of the Preobrazhensky regiment。
“Ah； the flags！” said Kutuzov； rousing himself with evident difficulty from the subject absorbing his thoughts。 He looked about him absently。 Thousands of eyes were gazing at him from all sides； waiting for his words。
He came to a standstill before the Preobrazhensky regiment； sighed heavily and closed his eyes。 One of the suite beckoned to the soldiers holding the flags to come up and set up the flagstaffs around the commander…in…chief。 Kutuzov was silent for a few seconds。 Then with obvious reluctance； yielding to the obligations of his position； he raised his head and began to speak。 Crowds of officers gathered round him。 He scanned the circle of officers with an attentive eye； recognising some of them。
“I thank you all！” he said； addressing the soldiers； and then again turning to the officers。 In the deep stillness that prevailed all round him； his slowly articulated words were distinctly audible： “I thank you all for your hard and faithful service。 The victory is complete； and Russia will not forget you。 Your glory will be for ever！” He paused； looking about him。
“Lower； bow his head lower；” he said to the soldier； who was holding the French eagle； and had accidentally lowered it before the Preobrazhensky standard。
“Lower； lower； that’s it。 Hurrah； lads！” he said； his chin moving quickly as he turned to the soldiers。
“Hurrah…rah…rah！” thousands of voices roared。
While the soldiers were shouting； Kutuzov； bending forward in his saddle； bowed his head； and his eyes gleamed with a mild and； as it were； ironical light。
“And now； brothers …” he said； when the shouts had died away。
And all at once his face and expression changed： it was not the commander…in…chief speaking now； but a simple； aged man； who plainly wanted to say something most important now to his comrades。
“And now； brothers。 I know it’s hard for you； but there’s no help for it！ Have a little patience； it won’t last much longer。 We will see our visitors off； and then we will rest。 The Tsar won’t forget your services。 It’s hard for you； but still you are at home； while they—you see what they have come to；” he said； pointing to the prisoners。 “Worse than the lowest beggars。 While they were strong； we did not spare ourselves； but now we can even spare them。 They too are men。 Eh； lads？”
He looked about him。 And in the unflinching； respectfully wondering eyes staring persistently at him； he read sympathy with his words。 His face grew brighter and brighter with the gentle smile of old age； that brought clusters of wrinkles at the corners of his mouth and his eyes。 He paused and dropped his head； as though in doubt。
“But after all is said and done； who asked them to come here？ It serves them right； the b— b—” he said suddenly； lifting his head。 And swinging his riding…whip； he rode off at a gallop； accompanied for the first time during the whole campaign by gleeful guffaws and roars of hurrah from the men as they moved out of rank。
The words uttered by Kutuzov were hardly understood by the soldiers。 No one could have repeated the field…marshal’s speech at first of such solemnity； and towards the end of such homely simplicity。 But the meaning at the bottom of his words； they understood very well； and the same feeling of solemn triumph in their victory； together with pity for the enemy and the sense of the justice of their cause—expressed； too； with precisely the same homely coarseness—lay at the bottom of every soldier’s heart； and found a vent in delighted shouts； that did not cease for a long while。 When one of the generals addressed the commander…in…chief after this； asking whether he desired his carriage； Kutuzov broke into a sudden sob in replying。 He was evidently deeply moved。
Chapter 7
IT was getting dusk on the 8th of November； the last day of the battle of Krasnoe； when the soldiers reached their halting…place for the night。 The whole day had been still and frosty； with now and then a few light flakes of snow。 Towards evening the sky began to grow clearer。 Through the snowflakes could be seen a dark； purplish； starlit sky； and the frost was growing more intense。
A regiment of musketeers； which had left Tarutino three thousand strong； but had now dwindled to nine hundred； was among the first to reach the halting…place； a village on the high road。 The quartermasters； on meeting the regiment； reported that all the cottages were full of sick and dead Frenchmen； cavalrymen； and staff…officers。 There was only one cottage left for the colonel of the regiment。
The colonel went on to his cottage。 The regiment passed through the village； and stacked their guns up at the furthest cottages along the road。
Like a huge； many…legged monster； the regiment set to work preparing its food and lodging for the night。 One party of soldiers trudged off； knee…deep in the snow； into the birch copse； on the right of the village； and the ring of axes and cutlasses； the crash of breaking branches； and the sounds of merry voices were immediately heard coming thence。 Another group were busily at work all round the regimental baggage…waggons； which were drawn up a