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The day after the review, Boris, in his best uniform and with
his comrade Berg's best wishes for success, rode to Olmutz to
see Bolkonski, wishing to profit by his friendliness and obtain
for himself the best post he could- preferably that of adjutant
to some important personage, a position in the army which seemed
to him most attractive. "It is all very well for Rostov,
whose father sends him ten thousand rubles at a time, to talk
about not wishing to cringe to anybody and not be anyone's lackey,
but I who have nothing but my brains have to make a career and
must not miss opportunities, but must avail myself of them!"
he reflected.
He did not find Prince Andrew in Olmutz that day, but the
appearance of the town where the headquarters and the diplomatic
corps were stationed and the two Emperors were living with their
suites, households, and courts only strengthened his desire to
belong to that higher world.
He knew no one, and despite his smart Guardsman's uniform,
all these exalted personages passing in the streets in their elegant
carriages with their plumes, ribbons, and medals, both courtiers
and military men, seemed so immeasurably above him, an insignificant
officer of the Guards, that they not only did not wish to, but
simply could not, be aware of his existence. At the quarters of
the commander in chief, Kutuzov, where he inquired for Bolkonski,
all the adjutants and even the orderlies looked at him as if they
wished to impress on him that a great many officers like him were
always coming there and that everybody was heartily sick of them.
In spite of this, or rather because of it, next day, November
15, after dinner he again went to Olmutz and, entering the house
occupied by Kutuzov, asked for Bolkonski. Prince Andrew was in
and Boris was shown into a large hall probably formerly used for
dancing, but in which five beds now stood, and furniture of various
kinds: a table, chairs, and a clavichord. One adjutant, nearest
the door, was sitting at the table in a Persian dressing gown,
writing. Another, the red, stout Nesvitski, lay on a bed with
his arms under his head, laughing with an officer who had sat
down beside him. A third was playing a Viennese waltz on the clavichord,
while a fourth, lying on the clavichord, sang the tune. Bolkonski
was not there. None of these gentlemen changed his position on
seeing Boris. The one who was writing and whom Boris addressed
turned round crossly and told him Bolkonski was on duty and that
he should go through the door on the left into the reception room
if he wished to see him. Boris thanked him and went to the reception
room, where he found some ten officers and generals.
When he entered, Prince Andrew, his eyes drooping contemptuously
(with that peculiar expression of polite weariness which plainly
says, "If it were not my duty I would not talk to you for
a moment"), was listening to an old Russian general with
decorations, who stood very erect, almost on tiptoe, with a soldier's
obsequious expression on his purple face, reporting something.
"Very well, then, be so good as to wait," said Prince
Andrew to the general, in Russian, speaking with the French intonation
he affected when he wished to speak contemptuously, and noticing
Boris, Prince Andrew, paying no more heed to the general who ran
after him imploring him to hear something more, nodded and turned
to him with a cheerful smile.
At that moment Boris clearly realized what he had before surmised,
that in the army, besides the subordination and discipline prescribed
in the military code, which he and the others knew in the regiment,
there was another, more important, subordination, which made this
tight-laced, purple-faced general wait respectfully while Captain
Prince Andrew, for his own pleasure, chose to chat with Lieutenant
Drubetskoy. More than ever was Boris resolved to serve in future
not according to the written code, but under this unwritten law.
He felt now that merely by having been recommended to Prince Andrew
he had already risen above the general who at the front had the
power to annihilate him, a lieutenant of the Guards. Prince Andrew
came up to him and took his hand.
"I am very sorry you did not find me in yesterday. I
was fussing about with Germans all day. We went with Weyrother
to survey the dispositions. When Germans start being accurate,
there's no end to it!"
Boris smiled, as if he understood what Prince Andrew was alluding
to as something generally known. But it the first time he had
heard Weyrother's name, or even the term "dispositions."
"Well, my dear fellow, so you still want to be an adjutant?
I have been thinking about you."
"Yes, I was thinking"- for some reason Boris could
not help blushing- "of asking the commander in chief. He
has had a letter from Prince Kuragin about me. I only wanted to
ask because I fear the Guards won't be in action," he added
as if in apology.
"All right, all right. We'll talk it over," replied
Prince Andrew. "Only let me report this gentleman's business,
and I shall be at your disposal."
While Prince Andrew went to report about the purple-faced
general, that gentleman- evidently not sharing Boris' conception
of the advantages of the unwritten code of subordination- looked
so fixedly at the presumptuous lieutenant who had prevented his
finishing what he had to say to the adjutant that Boris felt uncomfortable.
He turned away and waited impatiently for Prince Andrew's return
from the commander in chief's room.
"You see, my dear fellow, I have been thinking about
you," said Prince Andrew when they had gone into the large
room where the clavichord was. "It's no use your going to
the commander in chief. He would say a lot of pleasant things,
ask you to dinner" ("That would not be bad as regards
the unwritten code," thought Boris), "but nothing more
would come of it. There will soon be a battalion of us aides-de-camp
and adjutants! But this is what we'll do: I have a good friend,
an adjutant general and an excellent fellow, Prince Dolgorukov;
and though you may not know it, the fact is that now Kutuzov with
his staff and all of us count for nothing. Everything is now centered
round the Emperor. So we will go to Dolgorukov; I have to go there
anyhow and I have already spoken to him about you. We shall see
whether he cannot attach you to himself or find a place for you
somewhere nearer the sun."
Prince Andrew always became specially keen when he had to
guide a young man and help him to worldly success. Under cover
of obtaining help of this kind for another, which from pride he
would never accept for himself, he kept in touch with the circle
which confers success and which attracted him. He very readily
took up Boris' cause and went with him to Dolgorukov.
It was late in the evening when they entered the palace at
Olmutz occupied by the Emperors and their retinues.
That same day a council of war had been held in which all
the members of the Hofkriegsrath and both Emperors took part.
At that council, contrary to the views of the old generals Kutuzov
and Prince Schwartzenberg, it had been decided to advance immediately
and give battle to Bonaparte. The council of war was just over
when Prince Andrew accompanied by Boris arrived at the palace
to find Dolgorukov. Everyone at headquarters was still under the
spell of the day's council, at which the party of the young had
triumphed. The voices of those who counseled delay and advised
waiting for something else before advancing had been so completely
silenced and their arguments confuted by such conclusive evidence
of the advantages of attacking that what had been discussed at
the council- the coming battle and the victory that would certainly
result from it- no longer seemed to be in the future but in the
past. All the advantages were on our side. Our enormous forces,
undoubtedly superior to Napoleon's, were concentrated in one place,
the troops inspired by the Emperors' presence were eager for action.
The strategic position where the operations would take place was
familiar in all its details to the Austrian General Weyrother:
a lucky accident had ordained that the Austrian army should maneuver
the previous year on the very fields where the French had now
to be fought; the adjacent locality was known and shown in every
detail on the maps, and Bonaparte, evidently weakened, was undertaking
nothing.
Dolgorukov, one of the warmest advocates of an attack, had
just returned from the council, tired and exhausted but eager
and proud of the victory that had been gained. Prince Andrew introduced
his protege, but Prince Dolgorukov politely and firmly pressing
his hand said nothing to Boris and, evidently unable to suppress
the thoughts which were uppermost in his mind at that moment,
addressed Prince Andrew in French.
"Ah, my dear fellow, what a battle we have gained! God
grant that the one that will result from it will be as victorious!
However, dear fellow," he said abruptly and eagerly, "I
must confess to having been unjust to the Austrians and especially
to Weyrother. What exactitude, what minuteness, what knowledge
of the locality, what foresight for every eventuality, every possibility
even to the smallest detail! No, my dear fellow, no conditions
better than our present ones could have been devised. This combination
of Austrian precision with Russian valor- what more could be wished
for?"
"So the attack is definitely resolved on?" asked
Bolkonski.
"And do you know, my dear fellow, it seems to me that
Bonaparte has decidedly lost bearings, you know that a letter
was received from him today for the Emperor." Dolgorukov
smiled significantly.
"Is that so? And what did he say?" inquired Bolkonski.
"What can he say? Tra-di-ri-di-ra and so on... merely
to gain time. I tell you he is in our hands, that's certain! But
what was most amusing," he continued, with a sudden, good-natured
laugh, "was that we could not think how to address the reply!
If not as 'Consul' and of course not as 'Emperor,' it seemed to
me it should be to 'General Bonaparte.'"
"But between not recognizing him as Emperor and calling
him General Bonaparte, there is a difference," remarked Bolkonski.
"That's just it," interrupted Dolgorukov quickly,
laughing. "You know Bilibin- he's a very clever fellow. He
suggested addressing him as 'Usurper and Enemy of Mankind.'"
Dolgorukov laughed merrily.
"Only that?" said Bolkonski.
"All the same, it was Bilibin who found a suitable form
for the address. He is a wise and clever fellow."
"What was it?"
"To the Head of the French Government... Au chef du gouvernement
francais," said Dolgorukov, with grave satisfaction. "Good,
wasn't it?"
"Yes, but he will dislike it extremely," said Bolkonski.
"Oh yes, very much! My brother knows him, he's dined
with him- the present Emperor- more than once in Paris, and tells
me he never met a more cunning or subtle diplomatist- you know,
a combination of French adroitness and Italian play-acting! Do
you know the tale about him and Count Markov? Count Markov was
the only man who knew how to handle him. You know the story of
the handkerchief? It is delightful!"
And the talkative Dolgorukov, turning now to Boris, now to
Prince Andrew, told how Bonaparte wishing to test Markov, our
ambassador, purposely dropped a handkerchief in front of him and
stood looking at Markov, probably expecting Markov to pick it
up for him, and how Markov immediately dropped his own beside
it and picked it up without touching Bonaparte's.
"Delightful!" said Bolkonski. "But I have come
to you, Prince, as a petitioner on behalf of this young man. You
see..." but before Prince Andrew could finish, an aide-de-camp
came in to summon Dolgorukov to the Emperor.
"Oh, what a nuisance," said Dolgorukov, getting
up hurriedly and pressing the hands of Prince Andrew and Boris.
"You know I should be very glad to do all in my power both
for you and for this dear young man." Again he pressed the
hand of the latter with an expression of good-natured, sincere,
and animated levity. "But you see... another time!"
Boris was excited by the thought of being so close to the
higher powers as he felt himself to be at that moment. He was
conscious that here he was in contact with the springs that set
in motion the enormous movements of the mass of which in his regiment
he felt himself a tiny, obedient, and insignificant atom. They
followed Prince Dolgorukov out into the corridor and met- coming
out of the door of the Emperor's room by which Dolgorukov had
entered- a short man in civilian clothes with a clever face and
sharply projecting jaw which, without spoiling his face, gave
him a peculiar vivacity and shiftiness of expression. This short
man nodded to Dolgorukov as to an intimate friend and stared at
Prince Andrew with cool intensity, walking straight toward him
and evidently expecting him to bow or to step out of his way.
Prince Andrew did neither: a look of animosity appeared on his
face and the other turned away and went down the side of the corridor.
"Who was that?" asked Boris.
"He is one of the most remarkable, but to me most unpleasant
of men- the Minister of Foreign Affairs, Prince Adam Czartoryski....
It is such men as he who decide the fate of nations," added
Bolkonski with a sigh he could not suppress, as they passed out
of the palace.
Next day, the army began its campaign, and up to the very
battle of Austerlitz, Boris was unable to see either Prince Andrew
or Dolgorukov again and remained for a while with the Ismaylov
regiment.
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