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And
flourishing
his
whip
he
rode
off
at
a
gallop
for
the
first
time
during
the
whole
campaign
,
and
left
the
broken
ranks
of
the
soldiers
laughing
joyfully
and
shouting
"
Hurrah
!
"
Kutúzov
's
words
were
hardly
understood
by
the
troops
.
No
one
could
have
repeated
the
field
marshal
's
address
,
begun
solemnly
and
then
changing
into
an
old
man
's
simplehearted
talk
;
but
the
hearty
sincerity
of
that
speech
,
the
feeling
of
majestic
triumph
combined
with
pity
for
the
foe
and
consciousness
of
the
justice
of
our
cause
,
exactly
expressed
by
that
old
man
's
good-natured
expletives
,
was
not
merely
understood
but
lay
in
the
soul
of
every
soldier
and
found
expression
in
their
joyous
and
long-sustained
shouts
Afterwards
when
one
of
the
generals
addressed
Kutúzov
asking
whether
he
wished
his
calèche
to
be
sent
for
,
Kutúzov
in
answering
unexpectedly
gave
a
sob
,
being
evidently
greatly
moved
.
When
the
troops
reached
their
night
's
halting
place
on
the
eighth
of
November
,
the
last
day
of
the
Krásnoe
battles
,
it
was
already
growing
dusk
.
All
day
it
had
been
calm
and
frosty
with
occasional
lightly
falling
snow
and
toward
evening
it
began
to
clear
.
Through
the
falling
snow
a
purple-black
and
starry
sky
showed
itself
and
the
frost
grew
keener
.
An
infantry
regiment
which
had
left
Tarútino
three
thousand
strong
but
now
numbered
only
nine
hundred
was
one
of
the
first
to
arrive
that
night
at
its
halting
place
--
a
village
on
the
highroad
.
The
quartermasters
who
met
the
regiment
announced
that
all
the
huts
were
full
of
sick
and
dead
Frenchmen
,
cavalrymen
,
and
members
of
the
staff
.
There
was
only
one
hut
available
for
the
regimental
commander
.
The
commander
rode
up
to
his
hut
.
The
regiment
passed
through
the
village
and
stacked
its
arms
in
front
of
the
last
huts
.
Like
some
huge
many-limbed
animal
,
the
regiment
began
to
prepare
its
lair
and
its
food
.
One
part
of
it
dispersed
and
waded
knee-deep
through
the
snow
into
a
birch
forest
to
the
right
of
the
village
,
and
immediately
the
sound
of
axes
and
swords
,
the
crashing
of
branches
,
and
merry
voices
could
be
heard
from
there
.
Another
section
amid
the
regimental
wagons
and
horses
which
were
standing
in
a
group
was
busy
getting
out
caldrons
and
rye
biscuit
,
and
feeding
the
horses
.
A
third
section
scattered
through
the
village
arranging
quarters
for
the
staff
officers
,
carrying
out
the
French
corpses
that
were
in
the
huts
,
and
dragging
away
boards
,
dry
wood
,
and
thatch
from
the
roofs
,
for
the
campfires
,
or
wattle
fences
to
serve
for
shelter
.
Some
fifteen
men
with
merry
shouts
were
shaking
down
the
high
wattle
wall
of
a
shed
,
the
roof
of
which
had
already
been
removed
.
"
Now
then
,
all
together
--
shove
!
"
cried
the
voices
,
and
the
huge
surface
of
the
wall
,
sprinkled
with
snow
and
creaking
with
frost
,
was
seen
swaying
in
the
gloom
of
the
night
.
The
lower
stakes
cracked
more
and
more
and
at
last
the
wall
fell
,
and
with
it
the
men
who
had
been
pushing
it
.
Loud
,
coarse
laughter
and
joyous
shouts
ensued
.
"
Now
then
,
catch
hold
in
twos
!
Hand
up
the
lever
!
That
's
it
...
Where
are
you
shoving
to
?
"
