战争与和平(上)-第174部分

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“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　nothing　that　needs　setting　right。　The　only　thing　is　to　carry　out　in　exact　detail　the　plan　laid　down　by　me；”　he　said；　rapping　his　bony　fingers　on　the　table。　“Where’s　the　difficulty？　It’s　nonsense；　child’s　play！”　He　went　up　to　the　map；　and　began　talking　rapidly；　pointing　with　his　wrinkled　finger　about　the　map；　and　proving　that　no　sort　of　contingency　could　affect　the　adaptability　of　the　Drissa　camp　to　every　emergency；　that　every　chance　had　been　foreseen；　and　that　if　the　enemy　actually　did　make　a　circuit　round　it；　then　the　enemy　would　infallibly　be　annihilated。
Paulucci；　who　did　not　know　German；　began　to　ask　him　questions　in　French。　Woltzogen　came　to　the　assistance　of　his　leader；　who　spoke　French　very　badly；　and　began　translating　his　utterances；　hardly　able　to　keep　pace　with　Pfuhl；　who　was　proceeding　at　a　great　rate　to　prove　that　everything；　everything；　not　only　what　was　happening；　but　everything　that　possibly　could　happen；　had　been　provided　for　in　his　plan；　and　that　if　difficulties　had　arisen　now；　they　were　due　simply　to　the　failure　to　carry　out　that　plan　with　perfect　exactitude。　He　was　continually　giving　vent　to　a　sarcastic　laugh　as　he　went　on　proving；　and　at　last　scornfully　abandoned　all　attempt　to　prove；　his　position；　as　a　mathematician　will　refuse　to　establish　by　various　different　methods　a　problem　he　has　once　for　all　proved　to　be　correctly　solved。　Woltzogen　took　his　place；　continuing　to　explain　his　views　in　French；　and　occasionally　referring　to　Pfuhl　himself：　“Is　that　not　true；　your　excellency？”　But　Pfuhl；　as　a　man　in　the　heat　of　the　fray　will　belabour　those　of　his　own　side；　shouted　angrily　at　his　own　follower—at　Woltzogen；　too。
“To　be　sure；　what　is　there　to　explain　in　that？”
Paulucci　and　Michaud　fell　simultaneously　on　Woltzogen　in　French。　Armfeldt　addressed　Pfuhl　himself　in　German。　Toll　was　interpreting　to　Prince　Volkonsky　in　Russian。　Prince　Andrey　listened　and　watched　them　in　silence。
Of　all　these　men　the　one　for　whom　Prince　Andrey　felt　most　sympathy　was　the　exasperated；　determined；　insanely　conceited　Pfuhl。　He　was　the　only　one　of　all　the　persons　present　who　was　unmistakably　seeking　nothing　for　himself；　and　harbouring　no　personal　grudge　against　anybody　else。　He　desired　one　thing　only—the　adoption　of　his　plan；　in　accordance　with　the　theory　that　was　the　fruit　of　years　of　toil。　He　was　ludicrous；　he　was　disagreeable　with　his　sarcasm；　but　yet　he　roused　an　involuntary　feeling　of　respect　from　his　boundless　devotion　to　an　idea。
Apart　from　this；　with　the　single　exception　of　Pfuhl；　every　speech　of　every　person　present　had　one　common　feature；　which　Prince　Andrey　had　not　seen　at　the　council　of　war　in　1805—that　was；　a　panic　dread　of　the　genius　of　Napoleon；　a　dread　which　was　involuntarily　betrayed　in　every　utterance　now；　in　spite　of　all　efforts　to　conceal　it。　Anything　was　assumed　possible　for　Napoleon；　he　was　expected　from　every　quarter　at　once；　and　to　invoke　his　terrible　name　was　enough　for　them　to　condemn　each　other’s　suggestions。　Pfuhl　alone　seemed　to　look　on　him　too；　even　Napoleon；　as　a　barbarian；　like　every　other　opponent　of　his　theory；　and　Pfuhl　roused　a　feeling　of　pity；　too；　as　well　as　respect；　in　Prince　Andrey。　From　the　tone　with　which　the　courtiers　addressed　him；　from　what　Paulucci　had　ventured　to　say　to　the　Tsar；　and　above　all　from　a　certain　despairing　expression　in　Pfuhl　himself；　it　was　clear　that　others　knew；　and　he　himself；　that　his　downfall　was　at　hand。　And　for　all　his　conceit　and　his　German　grumpy　irony；　he　was　pitiful　with　his　flattened　locks　on　his　forehead　and　his　wisps　of　uncombed　hair　sticking　out　behind。　Though　he　tried　to　conceal　it　under　a　semblance　of　anger　and　contempt；　he　was　visibly　in　despair　that　the　sole　chance　left　him　of　testing　his　theory　on　a　vast　scale　and　proving　its　infallibility　to　the　whole　world　was　slipping　away　from　him。
The　debate　lasted　a　long　while；　and　the　longer　it　continued　the　hotter　it　became；　passing　into　clamour　and　personalities；　and　the　less　possible　it　was　to　draw　any　sort　of　general　conclusion　from　what　was　uttered。　Prince　Andrey　simply　wondered　at　what　they　were　all　saying　as　he　listened　to　the　confusion　of　different　tongues；　and　the　propositions；　the　plans；　the　shouts；　and　the　objections。　The　idea　which　had　long　ago　and　often　occurred　to　him　during　the　period　of　his　active　service；　that　there　was　and　could　be　no　sort　of　military　science；　and　that　therefore　there　could　not　be　such　a　thing　as　military　genius；　seemed　to　him　now　to　be　an　absolutely　obvious　truth。　“What　theory　and　science　can　there　be　of　a　subject　of　which　the　conditions　and　circumstances　are　uncertain　and　can　never　be　definitely　known；　in　which　the　strength　of　the　active　forces　engaged　can　be　even　less　definitely　measured？　No　one　can；　or　possibly　could；　know　the　relative　positions　of　our　army　and　the　enemy’s　in　another　twenty…four　hours；　and　no　one　can　gauge　the　force　of　this　or　the　other　detachment。　Sometimes　when　there　is　no　coward　in　front　to　cry；　‘We　are　cut　off！’　and　to　run；　but　a　brave；　spirited　fellow　leads　the　way；　shouting　‘Hurrah！’　a　detachment　of　five　thousand　is　as　good　as　thirty　thousand；　as　it　was　at　Sch？ngraben；　while　at　times　fifty　thousand　will　run　from　eight　thousand；　as　they　did　at　Austerlitz。　How　can　there　be　a　science　of　war　in　which；　as　in　every　practical　matter；　nothing　can　be　definite　and　everything　depends　on　countless　conditions；　the　influence　of　which　becomes　manifest　all　in　a　moment；　and　no　one　can　know　when　that　moment　is　coming。　Armfeldt　declares　that　our　army　is　cut　off；　while　Paulucci　maintains　that　we　have　caught　the　French　army　between　two　fires；　Michaud　asserts　that　the　defect　of　the　Drissa　camp　is　having　the　river　in　its　rear；　while　Pfuhl　protests　that　that　is　what　constitutes　its　strength；　Toll　proposes　one　plan；　Armfeldt　suggests　another；　and　all　are　good　and　all　are　bad；　and　the　suitability　of　any　proposition　can　only　be　seen　at　the　moment　of　trial。　And　why　do　they　all　talk　of　military　genius？　Is　a　man　to　be　called　a　genius　because　he　knows　when　to　order　biscuits　to　be　given　out；　and　when　to　march　his　troops　to　the　right　and　when　to　the　left？　He　is　only　called　a　genius　because　of　the　glamour　and　authority　with　which　the　military　are　invested；　and　because　masses　of　sycophants　are　always　ready　to　flatter　power；　and　to　ascribe　to　it　qualities　quite　alien　to　it。　The　best　generals　I　have　known　are；　on　the　contrary；　stupid　or　absent…minded　men。　The　best　of　them　is　Bagration—Napoleon　himself　admitted　it。　And　Bonaparte　himself！　I　remember　his　fatuous　and　limited　face　on　the　field　of　Austerlitz。　A　good　general　has　no　need　of　genius；　nor　of　any　great　qualities；　on　the　contrary；　he　is　the　better　for　the　absence　of　the　finest　and　highest　of　human　qualities—love；　poetry；　tenderness；　philosophic　and　inquiring　doubt。　He　should　be　limited；　firmly　convinced　that　what　he　is　doing　is　of　great　importance　（or　he　would　never　have　patience　to　go　through　with　it）；　and　only　then　will　he　be　a　gallant　general。　God　forbid　he　should　be　humane；　should　feel　love　and　compassion；　should　pause　to　think　what　is　right　and　wrong。　It　is　perfectly　comprehensible　that　the　theory　of　their　genius　should　have　been　elaborated　long；　long　ago；　for　the　simple　reason　that　they　are　the　representatives　of　power。　The　credit　of　success　in　battle　is　not　by　right　theirs；　for　victory　or　defeat　depends　in　reality　on　the　soldier　in　the　ranks　who　first　shouts　‘Hurrah！’　or　‘We　are　lost！’　And　it　is　only　in　the　ranks　that　one　can　serve　with　perfect　conviction；　that　one　is　of　use！”
Such　were　Prince　Andrey’s　reflections　as　he　heard　the　discussion　going　on　around　him；　and　he　was　only　roused　from　his　musing　when　Paulucci　called　to　him　and　the　meeting　was　breaking　up。
Next　day　at　the　review　the　Tsar　asked　Prince　Andrey　where　he　desired　to　serve；　and　Bolkonsky　ruined　his　chances　for　ever　in　the　court　world　by　asking　to　be　sent　to　the　front；　instead　of　begging　for　a　post　in　attendance　on　the　Tsar’s　person。


Chapter　12
BEFORE　THE　BEGINNING　of　the　campaign　Rostov　had　received　a　letter　from　his　parents；　in　which　they　informed　him　briefly　of　Natasha’s　illness　and　the　breaking　off　of　her　engagement；　and　again　begged　him　to　retire　from　the　army　and　come　home　to　them。　Natasha　had；　they　explained；　broken　off　the　engagement　by　her　own　wish。　On　receiving　this　letter　Nikolay　did　not　even　attempt　to　retire　from　the　army　or　to　obtain　leave；　but　wrote　to　his　parents　that　he　was　very　sorry　to　hear　of　Natasha’s　illness　and　her　rupture　with　her　betrothed；　and　that　he　would　do　everything　in　his　power　to　follow　their　wishes。　To　Sonya　he　wrote　separately。
“Adored　friend　of　my　heart；”　he　wrote；　“nothing　but　honour　could　avail　to　keep　me　from　returning　to　the　country。　But　now；　at　the　beginning　of　a　campaign；　I　should　feel　myself　dishonoured　in　my　comrades’　eyes；　as　well　as　my　own；　if　I　put　my　own　happiness　before　my　duty　and　my　love　for　my　country。　But　this　shall　be　our　last　separation。　Believe　me；　immediately　after　the　war；　if　I　be　living　and　still　loved　by　thee；　I　shall　throw　up　everything　and　fly　to　thee　to　press　thee　for　ever　to　my　ardent　breast。”
It　was；　in　fact；　only　the　outbreak　of　the　war　that　detained　Rostov　and　hindered　him　from　returning　home；　as　he　had　promised；　and　marrying　Sonya。　The　autumn　at　Otradnoe　with　the　hunting；　and　the　winter　with　the　Christmas　festivities　and　Sonya’s　love　had　opened　before　his　imagination　a　vista　of　peace　and　quiet　country　delights　unknown　to　him　before；　and　this　prospect　now　lured　him　back。　“A　charming　wife；　children；　a　good　pack　of　hounds；　ten　to　twelve　leashes　of　swift　harriers；　the　estate　to　look　after；　the　neighbours；　election　to　offices；　perhaps；　by　the　provincial　nobility；”　he　mused。　But　now　war　was　breaking　out；　and　he　had　to　remain　with　his　regiment。　And　since　this　had　to　be；　Nikolay　Rostov　was　characteristically　able　to　be　content　too　with　the　life　he　led　in　the　regiment；　and　to　make　that　life　a　pleasant　one。
On　his　return　from　his　leave；　Nikolay　had　been　joyfully　welcomed　by　his　comrades　and　sent　off　for　remounts。　He　succeeded　in　bringing　back　from　Little　Russia　some　first…rate　horses　that　gave　him　great　satisfaction；　and　won　him　the　commendati