Читать книгу War and Peace: Original Version - Лев Толстой, Leo Tolstoy, Liev N. Tolstói - Страница 54

Kutuzov withdrew towards Vienna, destroying the bridges on the rivers Inn (at Braunau) and Traun (at Linz) behind him. On the 23rd of October the Russian forces crossed the river Enns. By the middle of the day the Russian transports, artillery and troop columns were extended right through the town of Enns, on both sides of the bridge. It was a warm, rainy autumn day. The great panorama that opened out from the elevation on which the Russian batteries were positioned to defend the bridge would suddenly be veiled by a muslin curtain of slanting rain, but then just as suddenly clear again to reveal distant objects shining brightly in the sunlight, as if coated with lacquer. The little town could be seen down below, with its white houses and red roofs, cathedral and bridge, with the massed throng of the Russian troops streaming along on both sides. In the bend of the Danube, ships and an island could be seen, and a castle with a park, surrounded by the watery confluence of the Enns and the Danube; the rocky, pine-clad left bank of the Danube could be seen with its mysterious distant expanse of green tree-tops and bluish ravines. The towers of monasteries could be seen, jutting up out of the apparently virgin, wild pine forest, and also, far ahead, on a mountain on the other side of the Rhine, could the enemy’s mounted patrols.

Standing at the front, up among the artillery pieces on the elevation, were the commander of the rearguard, a general, and an officer of his retinue, who were examining the locality through a spy-glass. A short distance behind them Prince Nesvitsky, sent to the rearguard by the commander-in-chief, was sitting on the tail of a gun-carriage. The Cossack accompanying Nesvitsky had handed him a bag and a flask and Nesvitsky was now regaling the officers with pies and genuine Doppel-Kümmel. The officers gladly crowded around him, some kneeling, some sitting cross-legged on the wet grass.

“Yes, the Austrian prince who built a castle over there was no fool. A glorious spot. Why are you not eating, gentlemen?” said Nesvitsky.

“Thank you so much, prince,” replied one of the officers, pleased to be talking to such an important staff official. “It is a fine spot. We marched right past that park and saw two deer, and the house is quite wonderful!”

“Look, prince,” said another, who greatly wanted to take another pie, but felt too embarrassed, and therefore pretended to be surveying the locality, “look over there, see how far our infantry have already reached. And over there, on that little meadow beyond the village, three of them are dragging something away. They’ll clean that palace right out,” he said with evident approval.

“That they will,” said Nesvitsky. “Yes, but what I should like,” he added, chewing on a pie with his lovely, moist mouth, “is to get way over there.” He pointed to a convent with towers that could be seen on the mountain. He smiled, his eyes narrowed and sparkled. “Now that would be good, gentlemen.”

The officers laughed.

“If only to give those little nuns a fright. They say there are young Italian girls. Truly, I’d give five years of my life.”

“They must be bored, too, prince,” said one officer who was a bit bolder, laughing.

Meanwhile the officer of the retinue standing at the front was pointing out something to the general: the general was looking through the spy-glass.

“Yes, that’s it all right, that’s it,” the general said angrily, lowering the spy-glass from his eye with a shrug of his shoulders, “that’s it all right, they’ll shoot at the crossing. But why are they dawdling like that?”

On the other side of the river, the enemy could be seen with the naked eye, and also his gun-battery, above which appeared a puff of milky-white smoke. Following the smoke there came the distant sound of a shot and they could see our troops begin to bustle at the crossing.

Nesvitsky got up, puffing and panting, and walked over, smiling, to the general.

“Would your excellency care for a bite to eat?” he said.

“A bad business,” said the general, not answering him, “our people have delayed too long.”

“Shall I go to them, your excellency?” asked Nesvitsky.

“Yes, do please go,” said the general, repeating an order that had already been spelled out in detail, “and tell the hussars that they are to cross last and torch the bridge, as I ordered, and to inspect the combustible materials on the bridge.”

“Very good,” replied Nesvitsky.

He called the Cossack with his horse, ordered him to clear away the bag and flask, and swung his heavy body lightly into the saddle.

“I really will call in to see the little nuns,” he said to the officers, who were looking at him with cunning smiles, and set off downhill along a winding little track.

“Right then, as far as it will reach, captain, give it a try,” said the general, turning to the gunner. “Amuse yourself a bit, keep the boredom at bay.”

“Man the guns!” the officer commanded, and a moment later the artillerymen came running from their campfires and loaded up.

“Fire number one!” came the command.

Gun number one recoiled sharply. The artillery piece gave a deafening metallic clang, a grenade flew, whistling, over the heads of our men below the hill and fell far short of the enemy, a puff of smoke showing the spot where it burst.

The faces of the officers and soldiers brightened at this sound: they all stood up and began observing the movements of our forces, spread out clearly below them, and, straight ahead, the movements of the approaching enemy. At that very moment the sun emerged completely from behind the clouds, and the beautiful sound of this solitary shot and the brilliance of the bright sunshine fused into a single cheerful, uplifting impression.