The Continuation of the Story of My Military Service, and the Prussian Campaigns

Parts 1–3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6. Part 7.

Letter 37. The Beginning of the Campaign
Letter 38. The March through Lithuania
Letter 39. The Halt at Kovno
Letter 40. The March towards Prussia
Letter 41. The Entry into Prussia, and an Alarm
Letter 42. The March through Prussia
Letter 43. The March through Prussia to the Pregel
Letter 44. The First Alarm
Letter 45. The Second Alarm
Letter 46. An Alarm
Letter 47. The Battle
Letter 48. The March to Wehlau

THE BEGINNING OF THE CAMPAIGN

Letter 37

My dear friend! Undertaking now to describe our Prussian war, or that part of it which I myself happened to witness, I think it not superfluous to preface it with a short historical explanation of what in fact gave occasion to our becoming entangled in this war, so famous in Europe and called the Seven Years' War, which was so ruinous to the human race and in which so vast a multitude of people perished on all sides.

The chief, and very nearly the first and foremost, cause of the shedding of so much human blood was the King of Prussia Frederick II, who died a few years before this was written, the uncle of the King of Prussia now reigning. Born with exceptional qualities and gifts, brought up in severity by a father who did not love him, led astray from the path of true virtue while still young by teachers and friends of none too good a character, and having spent all his youthful years almost in captivity, he had no sooner lost his father and, in 1740, ascended the Prussian throne after him than, finding himself in possession of a fine and numerous army, a great deal of ready money and his whole state in a flourishing and excellent condition, he resolved to take advantage of the confusion that had then arisen all over Europe on account of the death of the Emperor Charles VI, and, in an almost brazen and most unjust manner, to wrest from the Imperial realm the very celebrated province of Schlesien {Silesia.} that bordered on his lands. He fell upon this province most suddenly, and, being a very adroit and cunning sovereign, exceptionally able in war and fortunate in it, he so pressed the late Emperor's surviving daughter, Maria Theresa, that this sovereign, beset and persecuted at that time by almost the whole of Europe, was compelled, for her own salvation and in order to keep the remaining hereditary lands of her father and the imperial crown itself, to cede the said province to him against her will.

But since the loss of it was too painful for the Imperial court, and the said sovereign could in no way forget the injury thereby done to her, the war of that time had no sooner ended, and this glorious sovereign, who had happily overcome all her misfortunes, no sooner established herself on the Imperial throne, than she began to think of recovering that province and to make, from afar, the most secret preparations for it.

With the help of her ministers she found means to win over to her side many powerful European sovereigns and to acquire in them strong allies.

The very ones who had until then fought against her and wished her no good became her friends and helpers. Secret alliances were concluded with the Elector of Saxony, who was at the same time King of Poland, and also with the King of France and with Sweden herself; and every conceivable means was employed to conclude a similar alliance with Russia and to induce her, too, to become entangled in this projected affair, which did not concern her in the least. The intrigues and wiles of the Saxon minister of that time, Brühl, who more than anyone else was then managing this whole business, did indeed meet with the desired success. The Empress Elizabeth Petrovna, who then ruled Russia, and who, as rumour then had it, already bore some personal grudge against the King of Prussia and hated him, was told so much ill of this king and had so many dangers described to her as supposedly threatening Russia from this celebrated sovereign, who had grown so strong, that it is not surprising that the intrigues of the Imperial, French and Saxon ministers at last brought her too to the point of resolving to conclude a similar alliance and to help the Empress-Queen in her projected undertaking with all the forces of her state. And as all this was carried on in secret and in a most hidden manner, the affair might perhaps have met with the desired success, and the King of Prussia would not only have lost Schlesien again but would also have been humbled, as all the allies in general wished, had not one trifling circumstance hindered all this and brought great change and disruption into everything.

The greed and treachery of one worthless little secretary, through whom the said Saxon minister Count Brühl conducted all his affairs, were the cause of it all, and not only overthrew the great designs of so many sovereigns but also kindled the fire of a war that destroyed a countless multitude of people and brought indescribable ruin, misfortune and calamity upon a still greater number of mortals. This good-for-nothing, who afterwards himself vanished without trace or tidings, having been bribed by the King of Prussia, informed him every week of everything that went on in secret in Brühl's cabinet, and even sent him the very copies of the most confidential correspondence between the courts. And it was by this means that the king learned before time how terrible a storm was gathering against him, and, being very cunning and in all his affairs and undertakings very quick and extremely adroit, he found a way to forestall the blow that threatened him and to put the greatest possible obstacle in the way of all his adversaries' undertakings. Not giving the allies time to make their final military preparations, and taking advantage of the time while they had not yet fully assembled, he suddenly, and without any declaration of war, entered the Electorate of Saxony with 60,000 men of his army, made himself master of all of it in an instant, forced the whole Saxon army, not yet prepared for war, to surrender to him as prisoners, and the king himself to withdraw to Poland, while the queen, who remained in Dresden, he so oppressed and grieved that she soon afterwards lost her life.

All the efforts of the Imperial court to avert these outrages, and even the battle between the Imperial and Prussian troops on the borders of Bohemia, were in vain and could not stop the King of Prussia in his swift undertakings and fortunate successes.

All this happened at the end of the past year 1756, and it was this that set the whole of Europe on fire and gave occasion to the beginning of this terrible war. In all modern times there had never yet been such a terrible arming and such levies of troops as were being made everywhere at the beginning of this year 1757. No fewer than nine armies took the field in different places in the spring of that year, and the King of Prussia was surrounded by enemies on all sides. On one side the French were preparing to attack him, on another the so-called Imperial troops from the direction of Saxony, on a third the Austrians from the direction of Bohemia and Schlesien, on a fourth the Swedes from the direction of Pomerania, and on the fifth our troops were ordered to march and attack him from the direction of Prussia. And the King of Prussia, meanwhile, was preparing not only to protect and defend his land everywhere, but even to march himself and lay Bohemia waste.

This, then, was the reason for the gathering of all our troops at Riga at that time, which I mentioned in my last letter to you; and now, returning to the subject I broke off then, I shall say that while we were encamped, in the manner described, right by the suburb of the city of Riga and, not knowing what to do with our superfluous belongings, were throwing them away, great dispositions were being made with all the regiments. They were all divided into various divisions and brigades, to each of which particular generals were appointed as commanders. Each brigade was made up of three regiments and was usually commanded by some major general or brigadier. Our Archangelgorod Regiment fell into a brigade together with the Third Grenadier and the Rostov Regiments, and for our brigade commander we received Major General Villebois.

As the intention of our chief commanders was to get us across the Dvina as quickly as possible, we were ordered to prepare for the following day to march in ceremony through the city of Riga and to cross the Dvina by the bridge that had been built, to the camps assigned to us on the other side of the river, for on the day of our arrival another brigade was crossing, consisting of the Butyrsky, Belozersky and Apsheronsky Regiments. And so on the morrow, that is, on the 29th of April, having first sent the baggage trains ahead, our brigade too crossed over and pitched camp some three versts from the city.

The crossing of the Dvina by the army in this manner, brigade by brigade, was truly a sight worth seeing, for General Field Marshal Stepan Fyodorovich Apraksin, who had then been appointed to lead the army, wished at that very time to see all the regiments entrusted to his command and setting out with him on campaign against the enemy, and for that purpose two magnificent pavilions were pitched at the very approach to the bridge; in one of them the said commander-in-chief himself was present the whole time with all the rest of the generals and with persons of rank and office, while the other was filled with a great multitude of ladies and noblewomen who also wished to see this rare ceremony.

All the city ramparts near this place, and the houses, roofs and windows too, were thronged with people of both sexes.

As for the regiments, they all had to march in the very best order and ceremony and to be in their finest array. All the soldiers had green branches stuck in their hats, as if to foretell the future victories they would win over the enemy. First of all marched the assembled fouriers {The name of non-commissioned officers who performed the duties of company and squadron quartermasters. They carried a small flag and, even in the infantry, rode on horseback.} of all the regiments of the brigade, with their small flags unfurled, led by their quartermasters. This dainty column with its little many-coloured banners formed the first splendour of the whole procession. Then came the staff {Probably the headquarters, i.e. the officers of the army staff.} and the led horses of the general commanding the brigade. Nothing so heightened the splendour as the beautiful caparisons with which these horses were covered; throughout the army the generals had them made alike at that time, and though not costly, they presented a magnificent appearance. They were made of waxed cloth, but painted and decorated in various colours, so that from a distance they seemed to be silk; on their sides were depicted, with gold, the monograms and coats of arms of the general concerned, all of which produced a stately and splendid effect. Behind these horses were drawn the cannon with their limbers and ammunition, and then followed the general himself on horseback, accompanied by his staff; and after him followed the regiments of his brigade in the usual ceremony, with colours unfurled, drums beating and military music playing. All the officers and the colours themselves had to salute as they passed the general field marshal, on which occasion everyone tried to perform his duty as well as possible. The cleanliness and neatness of the soldiers' clothing and equipment, the green branches in their hats, and above all the leather caps on all the grenadiers, made in the likeness of ancient helmets and bearing a kind of plume, lent a particular colour and heightened the splendour.

It is impossible to describe adequately what different feelings the sight of this procession produced, not only in others but in us ourselves who took part in it. Thoughts that we were going to war and leaving our fatherland for foreign, distant and hostile lands, going to endure hardship, shed our blood and die for our fatherland; the imagining that of all the many people then marching, a great many would not return, but would lay down their heads in war and on campaign; the uncertainty as to who would meet this unhappy lot, and where, and whom fate had destined not to return; and other such reflections brought the spirit to a certain despondency and unsettled the whole soul. On the other hand, the general conviction of the bravery and invincibility of our troops, the flattering hope that the enemy could in no way stand against us, the fanciful notion that by our numbers we would overwhelm {Pelt him.} him with our caps alone, and the undoubting confidence that we would defeat him, crush him and return with glory, covered with laurels, cheered the despondent heart again and, as if bringing it back to life, filled it with the fire of military zeal, which helps us so much to bear all the toils and discomforts of war willingly and without tedium.

But I have strayed from my subject. Now I return to it and shall say that in the said new camp some three versts beyond Riga our regiment stood for more than a week, during which time the other regiments were crossing the Dvina and all the necessary dispositions for the campaign were being made. The whole army was divided into three divisions, or parts, of which the first was commanded by the field marshal himself, the second, in which we were, by General-in-Chief Vasily Abramovich Lopukhin, and the third by General-in-Chief Vilim Vilimovich Fermor. The plan was that the first two divisions should march by different roads through Courland into Poland, or rather into Samogitia or Zhmud {Samogitia is the land of the Samogitians, or Samaites, a people of the Lithuanian tribe. The Zhmud land is one of the regions of Lithuania, inhabited by a people of the Lithuanian tribe, the Zhmud. The Samogitians and the Zhmud are kindred peoples and live intermingled on the territory of the Rossieny, Telshi and Shavli districts of the former Kovno Governorate.}, and then, having joined together and waited for the cavalry regiments and light troops coming directly from Smolensk, enter Prussia; while the third division, under Fermor's command, was to march to the right, straight to the first Prussian border fortress, Memel, and, with the assistance of the fleet sent there by sea, lay siege to that town.

When everything necessary for the campaign had been made ready, there followed at last, on the 3rd of May, the ceremonial departure of the general field marshal from Riga.

The river fairly groaned with the thunder of the cannon booming then from the city walls, and the departure of this commander was most splendid and magnificent. Our brigade happened at that time to be standing right on the road along which he was to travel, for which reason we were drawn up in line and had to render him honours, dipping our colours, as to our supreme commander. A tremendous retinue of military men of every kind surrounded him as he rode. This spectacle presented itself to us then for the first time and was striking to us, for the pomp of this procession was so great that many a sovereign does not set out to war with such. But oh! If only the return of this general to this city had matched this majestic departure!

With this I shall end this letter of mine and, telling you that I am your friend, I remain, etc.

THE MARCH THROUGH LITHUANIA

Letter 38

My dear friend! While we, in the manner mentioned, were occupied with preparations for the campaign and spending our time in ceremonies and finery, our enemies were working quite differently and were far from being so slow. To tell the truth, we too set out on campaign fairly early; but the King of Prussia had far forestalled us in this. Seeing such terrible armaments being raised against him on all sides, reaching to the point that all the various troops levied against him numbered up to 700 thousand, and feeling that he was far too weak against them, for even with all his allies, the Hanoverians, he had no more than 260 thousand men under arms, he tried to make up by his haste and dexterity for what he lacked in strength. And knowing that none of the powers hostile to him could open the campaign early, he resolved to take advantage of this and, gathering as much strength as possible, to fall suddenly upon the strongest of them all and the one nearest to him, that is, the Roman Empress-Queen, for he hoped that if he succeeded in defeating her at the very outset and dealing her a decisive blow, he would thereby not only cause her great disruption but also overthrow the designs of the other powers allied with her.

This very thing was the reason why he took the field that year extraordinarily early and with an army of more than 100 thousand, marching into the Imperial lands from different sides in three columns. He himself, leading the first, entered Bohemia directly from Saxony, while his famous field marshal Count Schwerin, leading the second, marched through Schlesien, and the third was led by the Prince of Bevern, who entered the Imperial lands from the direction of Lusatia.

The very reasons for which the king hastened to give a decisive battle impelled the Empress-Queen to follow a system entirely opposite to it.

She judged it best to act only defensively until her allies were in a position to take the field, for she foresaw that the King of Prussia would then be forced to divide his forces into various corps, and therefore she was only waiting for this favourable moment to begin her military operations, and until then she thought only of covering her lands against the enemy's attack.

In consequence of this system, the commander of her troops, General Browne, divided his army into various corps and, entrusting them to the command of the Duke of Arenberg, Count Königsegg and Count Serbelloni, stationed them in different places along the borders, while he himself with the rest of the army took up a position facing the king. By this disposition he hoped to cover Bohemia, and since all these corps were numerous and could quickly be joined together, he thought that they could everywhere prevent the Prussians from entering the Imperial borders.

However, it did not turn out so, but quite the contrary. The dexterity, cunning and adroitness of the king and the skill of his generals overthrew all the designs and hopes of the Austrians. Nothing could stand against them. However much the Austrians tried to hinder the Prussians, the latter overcame all the obstacles set in their way, broke into the Imperial domains, and forced not only the other Imperial commanders to retreat, but even Browne himself to withdraw under the very guns of the Bohemian capital, Prague, and, having united all his corps, to take up a position there in a camp fortified with a retrenchment and a multitude of batteries, where the king himself soon arrived as well.

He had no sooner reached Prague and joined all his detached corps than, without the least delay and regardless of all the advantageous position held by the Austrians, and of the very entrenchments and batteries with which they were surrounded, he resolved to attack them, telling his generals, who advised against it, that one must strike while the iron is hot. And this very thing gave rise to that battle of Prague which was the most celebrated in the whole of this war, and was fought on the 25th of April, that is, on the very day on which we with our regiment set out from our quarters and our troops began to gather at Riga.

That battle was terrible and most bloody. On the Prussian side 80 thousand men fought, and on the Austrian side 75 thousand.

The Prussian troops were commanded by the king himself, with his most celebrated generals: Count Schwerin, Keith and many others, and the Austrians by Prince Charles of Lorraine and General Browne.

The king did not listen to his field marshal Schwerin and attacked the Austrians quite otherwise than this skilful general, the very founder of the Prussian army, had advised him, and for that very reason he was very nearly utterly defeated. All his troops had already turned to flight, and the Austrians would surely have won a complete victory, had not a particular incident and the dauntless bravery of the said field marshal Schwerin himself brought about a change and reversed the whole affair. Seeing his troops already utterly routed, the field marshal seized a banner and, crying: "Cowards and good-for-nothings, all who do not follow me!", threw himself against the enemy. The troops, seeing this, rushed after him. Schwerin fell dead with the banner in his hands, but his very death roused daring and bravery in the Prussian army. It renews the battle, rushes upon the enemy, overthrows him, and at last wins a complete victory.

The right wing of the Austrians was forced to retreat to another place, and the left to enter Prague and shut itself up there. 5,000 Austrians fell on the spot, 10,000 were taken prisoner together with 240 pieces of artillery, and 48,000, with a great many princes and generals, were blockaded in Prague. Yet this victory did not come cheap to the King of Prussia either. He lost 10,000 men in this battle; but his loss was still more keenly felt through the death of Count Schwerin, for whom he grieved so much that, coming after the battle to see once more his body covered with blood, he gazed at it for a long time in silence with tears rolling from his eyes, and at last exclaimed: "This was not a subject, but a father, whom I admired!"

Many generals, both his and the Austrian ones, performed wonders of bravery in this battle. Especially distinguished in this respect were, on the Prussian side, Prince Heinrich, the king's brother, and General Zieten, and on the Austrian side General Browne, who was also destined to die of the wounds he received in this battle.

Such were the deeds and terrible bloodshed already taking place in Europe at the time when we were preparing to go to war. But I shall now return to ourselves and continue my story.

The seventh of May was at last the day on which our regiment too, following the example of the others, had to set out on campaign; and as it was still very far to the enemy's land, and there was no danger whatever on the march through Courland, our regiments, for greater convenience on the march, marched singly, one after another.

We at once turned to the left and, having passed the fishermen's settlement, entered behind it the former camp of the Pskov Regiment, where we spent that day and night.

On the following day (the 8th) we covered only two miles, and on the third (the 9th), approaching the borders of Courland, we were already beginning in part to feel the hardships of war. Although our march was again no more than two miles, or 14 versts, and although we set out in the morning, yet, because of the narrowness of the road, the very great halts, and our not yet being accustomed to such marches, we could not reach the appointed camp before about midnight, and our baggage trains arrived only in the morning; and for this reason we were obliged to rest at this place the following day (the 10th) and give both men and horses a rest.

The camp assigned to us at this place was in the middle of a pine forest, and we were for the first time standing in so inconvenient and bad a place, and on top of that we were obliged to spend the whole night without our carts and tents and to endure the cold, for the nights were still cold then. We made ourselves little fires in the middle of the forest and warmed ourselves by them almost the whole night, without eating or sleeping, foreseeing that this would often happen to us in future as well. The generals commanding our brigades cursed and swore at our baggage trains. They found them too heavy, and all the delay came from them, and for that reason the order was repeated that the loads be reduced and that there must without fail be two officers to one cart. It is easy to conclude that this order was not at all welcome to us. We were all grieved then and commiserated with one another, for no one wanted to part with his cart. But luckily not everything that is ordered is carried out. With some of the officers this was indeed done, and these poor fellows were obliged once again to throw away some of their things and abandon their carts; but most of us, and I among them, kept our carts under various pretexts, in which our regimental commanders, not compelling us too strictly, greatly assisted.

On the morrow, the 11th, we set out on the march again and continued our progress through Courland in the most orderly manner and by brigades, in the following order: first came the brigade of Major General Villebois, consisting of the Third Grenadier, our Archangelgorod and the Rostov Regiments. Then followed the brigade of Major General Prince Vasily Mikhailovich Dolgorukov, consisting of the Cuirassier Regiment of the Heir and the Nizovsky, Butyrsky and Vyborg infantry regiments, and lastly the brigade of Brigadier Nushers, consisting of the Pskov, Apsheronsky and Belozersky Regiments. Having covered two and a half miles, we spent the night by the manor of Eckau, where there was a ruined stone castle and a mill.

On the next day, the 12th, in the evening, we at last arrived at the small town of Bauska and encamped on this side of it, because it was impossible to cross the river Nemont, and a pontoon bridge had first to be made.

By morning, the 13th, it was ready for us at once, and here I happened for the first time to see this portable, flying bridge.

Our pontoons were made of tin and painted red, and as they were moreover all of equal size, the whole bridge presented a most beautiful figure, and I could not gaze at it enough. On that day our whole division crossed by it and passed through the little town without any ceremony. The sight of this Courland town, in which I had lived since infancy, and the reminder of all the places I had seen then, gave me pleasant delight, and I could not look at them enough. Having passed through it and forded another river, the Mūsa, we encamped not far from it, in view of the whole division.

At this place we stood for two days and nights, the 14th and 15th, during which time we were not idle. We were ordered to practise drill and firing, and the commanding generals inspected our skill, and our generous chief commander Lopukhin presented our soldiers with several gold ducats. On the other hand, we were not so pleased with our brigade commander, Mr Villebois. His severity and haughtiness were not very agreeable to us.

In the morning of the third day, the 16th, we set out on the march again and at last entered the Kingdom of Poland. We could not help, on thus leaving our fatherland and familiar lands, looking back at it several times and saying with a sigh: "Farewell, dear and beloved fatherland!.. Will God grant us to see you again, and when will that be?" Some peculiar and moving feelings then spread through every part of our body and drove tears from our eyes against our will. Although we tried to hide them, they were quite noticeable in a great many. That night we camped a little beyond the first Polish, or rather Lithuanian, small town, called Zheismen.

As on the 17th there was again a small delay with the baggage trains, and moreover the remaining brigades had not yet arrived, it was decided to rest a day at this place and wait for the others. And since the greatest delay and hindrance was caused us by the artillery, of which we had a whole park with our division, it was sent on ahead that day.

On the day following this, the 18th, there happened to fall the feast of Trinity Sunday. And as our chief commander was an extremely devout and pious man, we did not set out on the march until we had heard Mass in the regimental churches that had been set up, and therefore we arrived at the appointed camp by another small town, Linkovo, only at dawn of the following day, the 19th. However, we were obliged on that same day to march further, to a third small town called Klavany; but at this place we rested for a day, the 20th.

On the 21st, after noon, our brigade set out on the march again and went as far as the village of Pavikshni, where both the infantry and the baggage trains arrived only at midnight.

At this place a change occurred in my circumstances. Until then I had still been a company commander and had run a company, which was very advantageous for me, for there is a great difference between being a simple officer and being the head of a company, especially on campaign. But here our regimental quartermaster, Mr Stein, suddenly fell ill, and it was necessary to choose another skilled and able officer to perform his duties. In the whole regiment they found no one else fit for it except me. Although I tried to get out of it, nothing helped, and I had to hand over my company to another lieutenant attached to it and, taking the fouriers under my command, ride ahead to lay out the camps. This change both vexed me and did not. Through it I was freed from the indescribable burden and tedium I had had until then, riding always on horseback with my company and stopping at every verst. It is impossible to describe how vexatious and burdensome to all of us, being unaccustomed to it, was this slowness and these halts at almost every step on the march. We would march, as it happened, from morning till evening, yet cover no more than 10 or 15 versts, and all that time no one could leave his place with the company by a single step. It often happened that one's back would nearly break in two from sitting continually on horseback, and one would get so tired that one wished oneself dead. Much help to me, besides, was my newly bought book. I always had it in my pocket, and as soon as they shouted "Halt!", I would take it up and go on reading. Luckily it was very interesting, and I could not tire of reading it. With the said change, however, I was rid of all these burdens, and what pleased me especially was that I could thereby always have more time and rest for myself, for as the marches were very short, being free, it did not take us long to ride 15 or 12 versts, and then, once the camp was laid out, there was nothing left for us to do, and while waiting for our regiments we could sleep and rest as much as we liked. In a word, we had so much free time that it soon came to the point that this idleness began to bore me. And as I was not used to being without occupation, having read through my books and grown very fond of them, I took it into my head to translate my "Cleveland" at leisure and to spend all my idle time at it. This occupation brought me a double benefit, for, firstly, being engaged in it, I felt no boredom whatever; secondly, I thereby escaped the necessity of keeping company with my comrades, the two other quartermasters of our brigade, and riding with them into the small towns and villages and spending the time there in drinking, carousing and not infrequently in other impermissible pranks. These comrades of mine were Mr Kulbars and Mr Pokhvisnev. The first was of the Third Grenadier Regiment and served in place of the chief quartermaster; the second was of the Rostov Regiment, and a decidedly flighty young fellow. Besides this, in performing this duty, we also had the advantage that, always arriving in the small towns before the regiments, we could obtain and buy everything necessary for our provisions at a fair price, and not at three times the price, as we had bought until then, for no sooner did the division arrive anywhere than within an hour everything was bought up and nothing more could be had. But I shall return to continuing the description of our march.

On the 22nd of May our division reached a small town called Novoye Mesto, and, having rested there a day (the 23rd), continued its march (on the 25th) to the small town of Krekenau.

At this place we were obliged again to stand for two days and nights, the 26th and 27th, for as provisions had been laid in, we again had to receive them and bake bread for ourselves. On this occasion it was the first time that we baked this bread in earthen ovens and mixed the dough in pits: a sight never seen before and, by its novelty, curious. Seeing the said little pits with dough being mixed in them on bast matting and in sacks, and others, dug like burrows, for baking the loaves, we marvelled and would not believe that anything good could come of it: but our amazement grew when we afterwards saw loaves and rusks so good and tasty that we had never yet eaten the like.

As for me, a funny adventure befell me here. Since at that time I was in complete idleness, I was sitting one day on the ground in my officer's tent and was busy with my usual occupation, that is, translating my "Cleveland" on my knees. Absorbed in this task, I did not know or notice that a terrible thundercloud had risen and was already hanging over us, and I only heard that suddenly a tremendous storm with a whirlwind began to roar and shriek and to tear at our tents. I began to shout for men to run and drive the pegs more firmly into the ground, but there was no one to listen to me, nor any time for it! Without another word, the whirlwind caught up my whole tent, struck it against the ground and pinned me completely to the earth with it, together with my paper and ink. What was to be done then? I shouted with all my might, but with the tremendous noise, the lightning and the thunder no one could hear, and there was no way to struggle out by myself: so thoroughly had the tent flaps entangled me. In a word, I very nearly suffocated then, for I was obliged to lie under the tent in this manner for more than half an hour, until the people, who had all taken shelter from the rain here and there, saw my misfortune and, running up, freed me from my prison. But what a fright I came out of there! I was not only all soaked by the rain but also smeared with ink, and was glad enough just to be free.

On the 28th of this month our division's march began again and continued to the small town of Serbelishki, and on the next day after that, the 29th, we at last reached the famous, though not very large, Polish small town called Keidany. At this place, on the day following, the 30th, we met up with the first division, which was led by the field marshal himself. For he, coming from Mitau by another road through Yangyshki, Mashkutek, Shlav, Radzivilki and Shadov, had also arrived at Keidany. However, the two divisions did not yet join together then, but stood in separate camps.

At Keidany (1) we stood for five whole days, partly to receive the provisions, which had also been laid in here, and to bake bread from them, partly waiting (2) for the remaining brigades, which had fallen somewhat behind the others. However, on the 3rd of June our field marshal set out with his division further towards Kovno, and on the next day after that (the 4th) we too followed him with our division, which, having reached the small town of Bobti, camped there for the night. Our brigade, however, remained behind this time, but arrived at this small town only on the 5th.

At last, on the 6th, we arrived at the small town, or rather the fairly notable and celebrated little city, of Kovno.

We found a great assembly of regiments already there, for as, before reaching the town, it was necessary to cross the river Viliya, which was decidedly large, and the bridges had not yet been made, the arriving regiments took up position by this river and waited for them to be prepared.

On the 7th we crossed the said river Viliya and, having passed through Kovno, encamped beside this town. Here we stood for no small time, for as the whole army had to cross the said river by only one narrow pontoon bridge, and moreover this town had been appointed as the general rendezvous, or assembly point, no small time was required for it.

However, as our stay at this place was memorable for certain incidents that befell me, I shall put off the account of them until the following letter and end this one here, telling you meanwhile that I am, etc.

THE HALT AT KOVNO

Letter 39

My dear friend! Now I shall tell you about the adventures that befell me during our stay in the aforementioned Polish little city of Kovno.

The first happened on the very first day of our arrival there and consisted in a small misfortune which I brought upon myself by my own foolishness, namely: I have already mentioned before that I was then performing the duties of quartermaster and always rode ahead to lay out the camp. Accordingly, we rode ahead that time too, while our brigade was still on the other side of the river Viliya. On arriving in the town of Kovno, the quartermaster of the Rostov Regiment, Mr Pokhvisnev, being a flighty young fellow and a reveller, for some reason or other fell behind us in the town, and his fouriers stayed with him. Arriving with Mr Kulbars at the place beyond the town where our camp was to be, we had no time to dawdle long, because our regimental baggage trains had already begun to cross the river when we rode off, and so we hurried to lay out the camp as quickly as possible. But trouble befell me then in that the Rostov quartermaster was not there, without whom I could not lay out the camp for my regiment, because our brigade always took up position in such an order that the Grenadier Regiment stood on the right flank, ours on the left, and the Rostov Regiment in the middle; consequently, without the middle camp being marked out, I could not mark out the end one. Long did I wait for this gentleman, but he had stayed to carouse there a while and did not come. This vexed me beyond words, and I gave him a fine blessing for it.

At last our baggage trains began to appear, and we had not even begun to lay out the camps of both our regiments.

What was I to do then? There was nothing else left but to measure off the distance known to us for the Rostov Regiment, and then take a straight line with the Grenadier Regiment and lay out my own. But when, having measured off this proportion, I came to the place where our regiment was to stand, I saw that there was only freshly ploughed and not yet harrowed tillage, and not simple tillage either, but land torn up from a meadow. In a word, over the whole place there was clod upon clod and sod upon sod. This vexed me extremely, for never during our whole march had we had so vile a place for a camp; on the other hand, I saw that the place I had measured off for the Rostov Regiment consisted of the most beautiful and level meadow. I was envious and vexed at this, and the more so because we knew that we would stand here for no small time. Being in these circumstances, and seeing that the Rostov quartermaster with his fouriers was still not coming, I conceived the wish to do my regiment a service, and under some pretext to take the meadow for ourselves and pack the Rostov men off to the tillage, and thereby spare my regiment extreme discomfort. And so, having thought a little and devised excuses and justifications in advance, I went to the Grenadier quartermaster to ask his advice; but he told me neither this nor that. Thus, having received from him neither an order nor a prohibition, I took the risk and laid out my camp next to his regiment. But in order to cover up my misdeed somehow, I also laid out a camp beside me on the tillage for the Rostov Regiment. My fouriers did not want to toil for another regiment, but I compelled them and ordered them, moreover, to mark out all the places with even better and particular care, so as to lay it out all the more properly. No sooner had I done this than both the Rostov and our regiment's baggage trains actually arrived, and I at once ordered mine to take their places and occupy the camp quickly. The Rostov men, not seeing their fouriers, started a quarrel with ours as to why we were taking their place, but I soothed them with one thing and another and persuaded them to take up position in the camp I had assigned to them. No sooner had the baggage trains settled in than the infantry arrived too. The Rostov quartermaster did not bestir himself to ride out of Kovno until he saw the infantry already marching, and barely managed to gallop up to us, beside himself, with his fouriers. He had no time then to examine the suitability of the place; but seeing that his place had already been taken by our regiment, he galloped up to me and said: "Eh, brother! I lingered a bit in the town, and you've taken my place and not stood where you should." — "You had only yourself to blame for not coming!" I replied. "My baggage trains couldn't wait for you, after all, and there was nothing else left for me to do!" — "Well, so be it," he said, "but, eh, what a misfortune, I won't have time now to lay out the camp, the regiments are already coming!" — "Go on! Go on!" I said. "I've already laid out one for your regiment with my fouriers." He even thanked me for it, and galloped off to meet his regiment, and ordered his fouriers to go to the place. But these good-for-nothings, arriving there, soon saw through my whole scheme and why all this had been done, and were extremely vexed that they had to stand on the tillage. They did not leave it at that, but out of spite against me they deliberately pulled up and re-stuck all the pegs and purposely made the line and the front crooked, so that the tents too stood very crookedly and badly. I, knowing and suspecting nothing of all this, and rejoicing at my success and my trick, rode off and, meeting my regiment, led it to its place. But what came of it? My joy did not last long, but soon turned to sorrow, and this prank very nearly brought me to misfortune.

No sooner had the regiments settled into camp than our Major General Villebois arrived from the town; his tent had been pitched on our right flank.

He had barely ridden up to the camp when the crooked front of the Rostov Regiment at once caught his eye. Being of an extremely hot and irascible temper, he grew beyond measure angry and galloped straight to this front. But his vexation grew still greater when, thinking to find ours there, he suddenly saw the Rostov Regiment, his favourite regiment, which, having formerly been its colonel, he particularly protected and loved. He then raised a tremendous noise and shouting and threw fire and flame all around him. "Who is this? Who? Who did this? Who did it like this? Who laid out the camp? Why so badly? Why so crooked? Why not in the right place?" he shouted and bawled. "Bring him here!"

The Rostov quartermaster, knowing his irascibility, no longer dared show his face to him then; but unfortunately several officers came out who were no less dissatisfied with the place than the rest and complained to him, blaming me alone outright.

I was then with my regiment and knew and suspected nothing of it; but I soon saw people running all over the camp asking for me to go to the general. "Well!" I said to myself then, "now it's my turn! How shall I get out of this, and what will become of me: the general is a madman, I hope he doesn't do something to me!" As I thought, so it happened. No sooner did the general see me than, in a tremendous fury, he flew at me and dragged me through the mud. I began to offer him my justifications, but was it likely he would listen to them! It was not listening to justifications but punishing me that was on his mind. "Strip him! Strip him, adjutant!" was all he shouted. "I'll teach him a lesson!" The adjutant at once dismounted and began to take my sword. What was I to do then? I saw that you cannot break an axe with a whip, stood dumbstruck and let him take it without a word. After which the general rode away, listening to nothing more, and I was obliged to go to my tent.

The news of my misfortune at once spread through the whole camp, and no one could understand what I could have been arrested for. And as the whole regiment loved me and was pleased with me, there was no one who did not feel sorry for me and ask me the reason for it. My tent was at once filled with officers who had come to visit the unfortunate, and I, grieving and laughing, said to them then: "You see, gentlemen, it's for all of you that I'm suffering! I took pity on you and didn't put you on the tillage; and for that I'm now in trouble myself." They were very pleased with my zeal and therefore began to pity me all the more, saying that I was suffering innocently. At last, hearing of it, our colonel himself came to me and asked me about the whole affair. I told him everything in detail and at last said, laughing: "As you please, Colonel! You must protect me now — I did it not for myself but for your whole regiment, and it would have been all the same to me whether to stand on tillage or on meadow!" — "Of course, I shall not fail to try," he replied, "and I am much pleased with you in this matter. But have a little patience for an hour or so. The general's anger must be given time to cool, and then I trust that the whole affair will be smoothed over."

And indeed, not two hours had passed when an orderly came running for me, saying I was to go at once to the general's tent.

I found my colonel there, and the general was already as meek as a lamb and asked me about the whole affair. "Your Excellency," I said to him then boldly, "you did not deign to hear me out earlier; I am not at all to blame in this matter; the Rostov quartermaster stayed behind in Kovno, and I do not know why he lingered there, right up to the time when the regiments had already arrived in the town. Being here, I waited for him for more than two hours so that he could lay out his camp, but could in no way wait him out. At last the baggage trains had already arrived and were demanding a place from me. I did not know what to do then, and thinking it would be worse if Your Excellency found the baggage trains crowding in disorder and confusion, I found no other way than to take the place for my regiment next to the Grenadier one." — "Oh! So that's how it was?" the general interrupted me. "And what was that young fellow doing there, and why was he making merry in Kovno?" — "I know nothing of all that, Your Excellency," I replied, "only that neither he nor a single one of his fouriers was here, and I, seeing that their baggage trains too had arrived, was obliged afterwards to lay out the camp for their regiment myself." — "But why is it laid out crooked?" asked the general. — "For that I am not to blame," I replied. "I don't need to learn how to lay out camps, and I laid it out well, but they themselves deliberately and on purpose made it all crooked and re-stuck my pegs, only so as to bring Your Excellency's anger down upon me." — "Just look, what good-for-nothings!" the general cried then. "So it is not you, my friend, who is to blame, and the cause of it all is Pokhvisnev; but I'll teach that young fellow a lesson! Adjutant! Hand the sword to the sub-lieutenant, and instead go and arrest Pokhvisnev and have him put in the guardhouse." Then, turning to me, he said: "Forgive me, my friend! I was not told everything as it was, and I knew nothing of all this." God will forgive you, I thought to myself then, and meanwhile, God grant me to take to my heels from him as quickly as possible.

Thus ended this unfortunate adventure, the only one of its kind in my whole service. All the officers were glad of my release and praised me for getting off so well. All the same, I was afraid that the general might find out the true reason; but, luckily, soon after that we passed out of his command and were assigned to another division, and our real quartermaster, Mr Stein, recovered from his illness and returned to his duties. And so I went back to my company and no longer rode out to lay out camps.

The other adventure was of a comical kind and consisted in my getting drunk unintentionally and unawares, and for the first time in my life.

It happened in the following way. Long before our arrival in Kovno we had heard a good deal about the famous Polish meads sold in Kovno, called lipets. Our curiosity to learn what this drink was like was tremendous, and so no sooner had we arrived in Kovno and settled into our camps than everyone hastened to ask leave to go into the town to supply himself with the necessary things. Among them I was not the last. On coming into the town, my first concern was to find out where lipets was sold. I was shown a tavern or wine cellar, and on going in I at once asked for some. They asked me how much I would order. "A shtof!" I said, for I thought it was as weak as the other Polish meads, which one can sometimes drink for thirst and of which we had already become fond while marching through Poland. The host was surprised, seeing me alone and asking for a whole shtof of mead! However, without saying anything, he went and brought it to me; and I was no less surprised that along with the shtof he set before me on the table a small glass, and not a tumbler. "What is this!" I thought to myself. "Whoever saw mead drunk in glasses, and such small ones too?" But then I reflected that perhaps this was the custom here, and seeing the host properly dressed in German clothes, I was too embarrassed, for decency's sake, to ask what the reason was, and ashamed to ask for a tumbler. And so I at once poured a glass and drank it. The mead seemed to me pure nectar: clear, tasty, sweet, pleasant, and moreover it seemed to me not strong at all, but weak. For which reason I even wondered at it and said to myself: "There, they said lipets is very strong, and instead one can drink it without any trouble." And so, after waiting a little, I drank another glass of it, and after some more time, yet another. But as this time it seemed to me somewhat stronger, I did not drink any more of it then, but thought to go first and buy a few things and look for some of my acquaintances, and to drop in here afterwards and drink the rest. Having arranged matters thus, I said to the host: would he do me the kindness of putting this mead in the cupboard and keeping it for a few hours, until I came with friends and we drank up the rest. "Good heavens!" said the host. "Why not keep it! If you please, sir, your mead will be safe, only kindly pay for it." — "Of course, my friend," I said, "that goes without saying; how much do you want for it?" — "A ducat, that's all!" said the host coolly! This word struck me. "Well, I never!" I thought to myself. "A fine little mead!" I confess that I was already very sorry I had not asked beforehand what it cost; but as giving it back seemed to me shameful and wrong, I reached into my purse, though with great reluctance and vexation at myself, paid as much as he demanded and left the premises, scolding myself for my carelessness and the mead for its dearness; but the comedy did not end there. I had not walked about the town for half an hour when I met the adjutant of our regiment, who, delighted to see me, told me that he had long been looking for me and that I should go as quickly as possible to the camp to the colonel, on some necessary business. I began to invite him to the tavern with me, but he excused himself for lack of time and again advised me not to delay a minute either.

Thus, having no time to go back for my lipets, I ran to the camp, which was no more than a verst from the town.

Here I had barely come to the colonel and, having attended to the business for which he had summoned me, returned to my tent, when suddenly both my arms and legs gave way. This seemed to me frightening and strange. I did not understand what it meant and, taking fright, could only say: "Lord have mercy! What is this! What has happened to my arms and legs: I don't seem to feel any pain, yet I can hardly control them at all." In a word, I became such a cripple that I had to lie down on the ground and lay there as if paralysed, not understanding what the cause of it was, for as I was otherwise in full possession of my mind and memory, it never even entered my head that this effect had been produced by my little mead, so sweet and so cheap. The officers who called on me at last explained this mystery to me. They asked me whether I had drunk lipets, and when I told them I had drunk three little glasses, they burst out laughing and said: "Well, brother! So that's what is working, and there's more to come for you yet." Their prediction came true. Indeed, not half an hour had passed after that when my sweet and lovely little mead so undid me that I became dead drunk, and, almost out of my mind and memory, rolled like a log on the grass in front of my tent, and did nothing but laugh and guffaw at the top of my voice, for every little thing seemed funny to me. And it was then that I learned for the first time what I am like when drunk; but thank God that to this day this has happened to me only twice in my life. In this state I spent the rest of the day, not knowing where to put myself; but on the morrow, having slept it off, I cursed that accursed mead together with its host, and not only did not go to the town to finish drinking it, but did not even want to hear of it, and left it standing quietly in the host's cupboard.

But I shall return to the description of our march. The whole army, having crossed the river Viliya, or Vilnya, was encamped around Kovno. This little town lies in a most beautiful situation. The considerable river Nemont flows through a broad valley between high hills. Kovno sits right on its bank and contains a fair number of stone buildings, churches and other fine houses, in the best of which our field marshal was then staying; the others were occupied by his retinue and by foreign volunteers and other most distinguished generals. The whole town was then filled with people and teeming with military men. Right by its walls the town is encircled by the other, above-mentioned river, the Vilnya, which flows into the Nemont, so that the town is built on the very point between them. The regiments were encamped along the banks of both these rivers and made a most beautiful sight.

Soon after our arrival at this place, General-in-Chief Browne also came to the army; and our troops that had come directly from Smolensk and from Starodub, consisting for the most part of cavalry and light troops, also joined it.

Thus our whole army assembled together at this place, except for General Fermor's division, which, as mentioned above, had gone to besiege Memel.

No sooner had all the generals gathered and assembled than a council of war was held here twice, at which further undertakings were discussed, and where and how to enter the Prussian borders; after which a new distribution of the regiments was made throughout the army. Our regiment now fell into another division, the one commanded by General-in-Chief Browne; and our brigade, made up of our own and the Narva and Vyborg Regiments, came under the leadership of Brigadier Berg.

While we, in this manner and with such slowness, were dragging ourselves from Riga to Kovno and, gathering here little by little from all sides, spending our time not so much in action as in idleness and empty superfluities, in Bohemia and in other places the fire of war continued to blaze in the fiercest manner. The previously mentioned and so terrible battle between the Austrians and the Prussians at Prague, however bloody it was, and although in it in a few hours more than 30 thousand men were killed and maimed on both sides, did not in the least change the state of affairs, did not lessen the ferocity of the war, and did not yet produce any hope of peace. This battle is particularly memorable in that, although everyone thought and expected that it would have great consequences, this did not happen, and it had none. Everyone thought that the King of Prussia, having defeated the Austrians then, would pursue the fleeing Austrians, catch up with them and destroy them all, and would force those shut up in Prague to surrender by fire and hunger, and many even laid wagers that the king would not fail to do so, and hoped that he would make himself master of all Bohemia before the Austrians had time to come to their senses: yet everyone was deceived in this.

However much the king employed his skill to profit as far as possible from this victory, he had no further success in it. To destroy the fleeing Austrians, he did indeed send the Duke of Bevern in pursuit with 20 thousand men of his army, but all the efforts of this duke were unsuccessful, and he could in no way prevent them from joining another Austrian corps that stood not far from Kolin. These troops, reinforced and increased by others that had come from Moravia and Hungary, formed in a short time a fairly large new army, and to command it Daun was sent, the one general who by his gifts could in any degree equal the king's and was able to stand against him.

The king himself, however, decided to remain on the field of battle in order to surround and take the city of Prague and all the Austrians who had shut themselves up in it.

He at once sent into it to demand its surrender; but he was surprised to hear that Prince Charles of Lorraine himself was in it, with a whole army of Imperial troops, for their number amounted to as many as 40 thousand men. In spite of this, the king surrounded this great city on all sides and, building batteries everywhere, began to press it in the fiercest manner. Of bombs and red-hot shot alone as many as 170,000 were thrown into it, and 900 buildings were destroyed and damaged by them. Yet with all these efforts the king could achieve nothing of importance, nor even make himself master of the least of the fortifications of this city. Prince Charles resisted most stubbornly and repulsed all his attempts against him. Nature herself helped him somewhat in this. Terrible thunderclouds and torrential rains caused the river Mulda to overflow its banks, tear apart the Prussian pontoon bridges and deliver them into the hands of the Austrians, thereby producing great disarray in the Prussian army.

In these circumstances, and seeing that all his firing did the enemy little harm, the king resolved to starve the Austrians out and force them to surrender, and as a shortage of food was already beginning to appear in the city, he might perhaps have had the desired success in this, had he not been hindered by other circumstances, namely that General Daun with 60 thousand men of the Imperial army began to advance towards the city to relieve it from the siege, and that the Duke of Bevern, being too weak to hold him back, was forced to fall back. The king, hearing of this, left Keith to continue the siege, and he himself, detaching as many troops as possible and joining the Duke of Bevern, marched with 23 battalions of infantry and 30 squadrons of cavalry against Daun, in order to give him battle.

The king was prompted to this undertaking, firstly, by the fact that he knew Daun had been ordered by the Empress-Queen to risk everything to free Prince Charles and to prevent the king from taking a whole army prisoner in Prague. Secondly, he saw that without giving him battle and defeating him, he could in no way make himself master of Prague; and thirdly, and above all, he knew that very important and advantageous consequences for him might come of a victory over Daun. He firmly hoped that by winning this battle he would, firstly, gain a great and already complete superiority over the Austrians; secondly, he would compel all the Imperial princes arming against him to ask him to conclude neutrality with them — princes whom he had already frightened by the 500 hussars he had sent into the heart of Germany to prevent their troops from uniting, and who had reached even Nuremberg and Regensburg, and who had already been brought to the point of beginning to waver and to think of abandoning the Imperial side; thirdly, he hoped that he would thereby upset the very plan of the French and perhaps halt all their military operations in Germany, for they had meanwhile had time not only to take the field but to cross the Rhine and, joining a corps of Austrians, to enter Westphalia, where Prince Soubise, leading them and the Austrians, took the town of Wesel in less than a week, took from the Prussians the whole of the Duchies of Cleves and Guelders and drove them as far as the Hanoverian army itself, which, under the command of the Duke of Cumberland, had undertaken to defend the lands of the Prussian dominion on that side; but it too had already been defeated at Hastenbeck by the French marshal d'Estrées, who had come to the army, and had lost the city of Hanover itself. Fourthly, he hoped that thereby the Swedes too, who were threatening him with an attack on Pomerania, would become more peaceable and cautious; and fifthly, he trusted that thereby our court too would be inclined to other thoughts, for the king could then have divided his army in every direction, and not only set a larger force against us, but also hasten to the aid of the hard-pressed Duke of Cumberland.

These were the reasons and flattering hopes that persuaded the king to hasten to march against the Austrians and give battle to Daun.

Many who understand the art of war accuse the king of a great blunder in this case and say that he could have taken up a position with his army in an advantageous place, where, without giving battle, he could have prevented Daun from breaking through to Prague, and that he could thereby have taken this city, which could not hold out more than a few days longer. But the king, accustomed to swiftness and already far too greedy for victory, wished to attack himself, and thereby spoiled the whole affair.

Daun, having chosen a very advantageous position, calmly awaited the attack of the King of Prussia. The latter had no sooner arrived than he at once fell upon him, and on the 7th of June, at two o'clock in the afternoon, the battle began. The left wing of the Prussian army approaches to attack the Austrian right. In a single instant this wing is attacked in front and in flank, and the fierce onslaught of the Prussians overthrows the Austrian cavalry. Count Serbelloni, though wounded, sabre in hand, hurls himself against the Prussians, renews the battle and again gains the upper hand over them. The infantry meanwhile fought with terrible bloodshed; six times Frederick's battalions were thrown into disorder and driven back, and six times they returned to attack the Austrians with the same dauntlessness. Daun and the King of Prussia are themselves everywhere! Prince Karl Lobkowitz, Prince Esterházy and Count O'Donnell perform the duties both of commanders and of common soldiers. On the Prussian side both of the king's brothers, Prince Heinrich and Ferdinand, help him and share his toils and dangers with him. Towards seven o'clock in the evening both armies grow weak from their heavy toils and, as if by common consent, take half an hour's rest. Frederick undertakes to make a last effort and to correct the error committed by his general Manstein, who had begun the battle where the king had forbidden him to. He gathers his best troops to fall once more upon the brave Austrian battalions that had so many times driven them back, and goes to lead them himself. He stops those who are fleeing with a single word: "Or do you want to live for ever?" and turns them back to go to their deaths! And Daun meanwhile orders his cavalry on the left wing to hurl itself at the enemy and attack him in the flank. This movement and the brave resistance of his infantry at last decided the fate of this terrible day and brought him complete victory. The Prussians lost in this memorable battle up to 8,000 men of their best infantry and up to 12,000 wounded and dispersed. The king retreats in considerable disorder. All his grand and magnificent designs and flattering hopes collapse. He returns that same evening to the army left before Prague and two days later orders the siege to be abandoned, and then, with shame and loss, withdraws entirely from Bohemia; the Austrians take as booty 22 colours and 45 cannon with a great quantity of ammunition. These trophies serve as proof of their victory, which costs them no more than 5,000 men, with whom they buy great advantages for themselves and save a full 40 thousand from captivity, with a great many princes and generals.

It is impossible to describe how greatly the Imperial court rejoiced at the news of this decisive, glorious victory, which brought about a great change in all circumstances.

Daun was the first to have the glory of defeating the king in a formal, regular battle, and the Emperor and the Empress-Queen were so pleased with him that they went in person to his wife to tell her this joyful news. It is known, moreover, that on this very occasion the Empress-Queen instituted her military order, giving it her own name, Maria Theresa. She showed General Daun the exceptional privilege of allowing him himself to make the promotions in her armies. This mark of respect and trust was all the more flattering to this field marshal in that it gave him occasion to show proofs of friendship to his very rivals in honour. The choice he made in these promotions covered him with glory and honour of another kind, which, though not so resounding as that gained by victory, is no less worthy of great praise. But I shall return to our army and to the continuation of my story.

From all the above it is easy to see that this famous battle at Kolin took place in Bohemia on the very day on which we arrived with the army at the aforementioned Polish town of Kovno. The Austrians did not fail at once to send a courier to us with news of their victory; but we did not receive the news of it until the 16th of June.

It is easy to conclude that this news was very pleasant to all of us, for as the Austrians were our allies, and we were going to fight for them ourselves, and had in the King of Prussia a common enemy, it produced throughout our army almost the same joy as if this victory had been won over him by our own troops. The field marshal did not fail at once to make it known throughout the army, and copies of the Austrian report received were at once communicated to all the regiments. After which all the regimental priests from all the regiments were gathered at headquarters, where, to the thunder of cannon, solemn thanksgiving was offered to the Most High. All the generals dined that day with the field marshal, and the cannon had to work the whole of that day and deafen the inhabitants of Kovno with their thunder.

After this we no longer lingered here, but that very same day orders were given for us to prepare to march further. But I shall put off the account of our further march until the following letter, and meanwhile I remain, etc.

THE MARCH TOWARDS PRUSSIA

Letter 40

My dear friend! And so, no sooner had we received the joyful news mentioned above than our commanders no longer wished to linger in Kovno, but began to hasten the march; and for that reason, on the very next day after that, that is, the 17th of June, some brigades were already ordered to set out on the march and gradually cross over the river Nemont, across which a fine pontoon bridge had also been built. On the following day the army continued to cross, and on that day the general field marshal himself left Kovno; but the whole army could in no way cross before the 21st, on which day our regiment too at last crossed together with the others.

This departure from Kovno is memorable to me in particular even now, on account of one sad incident that happened at the very hour when we set out.

I had in our regiment one very good friend, who was moreover somewhat related to me and was also a close neighbour of my villages. He was already serving as a lieutenant and was called Fyodor Semyonovich Seliverstov. As he was of a very good character, we always lived in friendship with him and loved each other mutually. This man fell ill during our march through Poland, long before we reached Kovno. And as all those who happen to fall ill on campaign may justly be called unfortunate people, because few of them, and especially those suffering from grave illnesses, manage to recover, Mr Seliverstov too was subject to this same unhappy lot. Although our regimental surgeon treated him, can proper treatment be carried out on campaign, when the patient, instead of the rest he needs, is subjected every day to new disturbances, and when the physician himself has no time to think even of himself? And so, although they brought him to Kovno alive, his illness had by then grown so much worse that he was already at the edge of life. And for this reason, although in Kovno we had some two weeks' quiet halt, no medicines could help him any longer. But even that was not enough; his unhappy fate willed that he should lose his life at the very minute when we had only just set out on the march and had only just moved his covered wagon off from its pole. I cannot describe how deeply I and his other friends were struck when, having found us with difficulty, people came running to tell us that he had passed into eternity. We were grieved and did not know what to do with him then. The whole regiment was already in motion with all its baggage trains, and these were being urged to cross the river with great haste. We reported this to the colonel and asked to be released for at least a few hours to bury his body. But the matter was so difficult that it had to be reported to our brigade commander, for he had strictly forbidden anyone to leave his place: but he too released us for no more than one hour and ordered us to bury him wherever we found his wagon on the road. What were we to do then? We were obliged to obey the strict command of our superior and, forgetting all rites and funeral ceremonies, not so much to bury him as, having dug a small pit in a little wood that happened to be by the road, to cover him with sand, for in the haste and great hurry of the march, and the tremendous confusion that reigned among all the baggage trains, it was quite impossible even to find a priest.

Thus our tears, with which we bedewed the lifeless body of our friend, and the sighs we sent up to heaven, served him in place of all ceremonies and funeral rites.

I cannot recall with what grief our hearts were stricken then, when the sand covered his body from our eyes for the last time. We imagined to ourselves that it might very easily happen that we too would be subject to the same unhappy lot, and we said to one another: "Who knows! Perhaps we too shall happen to die on the march! Perhaps we too shall be buried in the sand in the same way, or even worse than this, and none of our kin will know where our grave is!"

In the same way, and at this same time, my former teacher, Mr Miller, also lost his life. A cruel illness snatched him from the world together with many others. Although in my childhood I had suffered much ill from this man, I had long since forgotten all of it, and he, being an officer, already loved me so much that I considered him my friend, and therefore I could not help bedewing his lifeless body too with tears of friendship. This one died while still in camp, on the eve of our departure, but as he was a foreigner, his burial was no better. He too was buried in the same way, without further ceremony, in a pit. But it is time for me to leave these sad subjects and return to our march.

As, having crossed the river Nemont, we had to cross very steep and difficult hills, after resting on its bank on the 22nd, we were ordered to take three days' provisions and go ahead, leaving the baggage trains to make their way over the hills as best they could. This happened to us for the first time, that we were obliged to part with our baggage trains and also lay in food provisions for ourselves, which for us, being unaccustomed to it, was rather strange. On that day (the 23rd) we marched with the whole army as far as the village of Gogi, which sits on the bank of the Nemont, and thought that our baggage trains would not come for a long time; however, contrary to our expectation, they got over the hills that very same day and reached us towards evening.

The one difficulty we had was only that we were obliged to swim the horses across the river Nemont for fodder, and not without considerable danger.

On the following day (the 24th) we stood here and rested, and on the 25th we set out on the march again, leaving the baggage trains behind. However, they overtook us on the road, and on that day we spent the night by the small town of Preny. On the morrow (the 26th), continuing the march, we arrived at the small town of Barbarishki and encamped behind it, in which camp the field marshal himself also took up quarters in his magnificent pavilions, which we had never yet seen, and so we could not gaze enough at their splendour and beauty and at the size of the whole field marshal's encampment. The whole of it, with its multitude of many-coloured tents and pavilions, presented the appearance of a kind of small portable town, in the midst of which rose proud, enormous pavilions with their gilded knobs. One, the largest of them, stood in front and served as a hall; another, standing behind it, was smaller and served as an antechamber, and behind this stood a round Kalmyk tent, which served the field marshal as a bedchamber; a multitude of small tents, crowded close together, surrounded these pavilions on three sides, and in them lived the staff and the other lower ranks attached to the field marshal.

At this place we stood again for more than a week, partly because of the approaching feast of Saints Peter and Paul, partly because from this place we now had to turn to the right to enter Prussia, and not everything was ready yet. Our general field marshal also wished to hold a general review of all his troops, or rather to learn how to draw them up in order of battle. And for that reason (on the 28th), on the eve of St Peter's Day, the whole army was led out onto a very clear and spacious field not far from our camp and drawn up in proper order of battle in two lines. On the arrival of the general field marshal, honours were rendered to him for the first time by the whole army, and he rode all round it and admired the spectacle of so numerous a multitude of people under his command. A numerous retinue, consisting of various persons of rank who were in his tent, of a multitude of generals and foreign volunteers, followed him, and several dozen Chuguyev Cossacks, hussars, cuirassiers and other mounted troops escorted this procession and lent it still more splendour. As for the brigade commanders, each of them awaited the field marshal's arrival before the front of his brigade, and when he approached galloped up to him and saluted him with his sword, having meanwhile ordered the drums to roll, the music to play in all the regiments and the colours to be dipped everywhere as soon as the field marshal came level with them.

All this increased the pomp of this spectacle, which was still new even to us, for it was then for the first time that we saw the whole army drawn up in line, and the sight was striking to our eyes.

When the whole round had been completed and all the regiments then designated to enter the enemy's land had been inspected, a moleben was sung to implore God's blessing on the undertaking we were beginning, and then the firing began in the following manner: at the first shot of the signal gun placed on the right flank, a cannonade began from all the regimental guns in both lines, one cartridge each. At the second signal the whole army fired by platoons, and at the third a general volley of cannon and small arms was delivered by the whole army, which discharge made a good deal of thunder and was as new and striking to our hearing as the sight of the whole army had been to our eyes. After which a mock attack was made by the first line and the cavalry, and we, having run about the field a while and fired off several poods of powder for nothing, were at last dismissed to our camps, rather worn out.

On the morrow we celebrated the feast of Peter and Paul with the usual church ceremony and a parade, on which day I received a particular joy through the arrival in the regiment of my brother-in-law, Mr Neklyudov. He had been detached, as already mentioned before, from our cantonment quarters to Poland to lay in and purchase provisions, and had been in the notable Polish cities of Vilna and Grodno, and at last, having discharged his commission, he was released and arrived at his regiment. This mission was far from being as advantageous and profitable to him as to many others who are employed in such affairs and amass whole thousands for themselves. My brother-in-law was not of such a character and disposition as to acquire anything dishonestly and to undertake for that purpose any swindles or deeds contrary to his oath and duty, for which reason he did not gain a kopeck from this commission, but, on the contrary, suffered no small loss on this mission, for almost all the very good servants who were with him died of illnesses, and he came away with only one wretched old man, and suffered such a want of servants that I was obliged to help him somewhat with mine until he could obtain orderlies for himself.

On the day after St Peter's Day (the 30th), Major Romanius galloped up to us from General Fermor with the joyful news that the Prussian border fortress of Memel, so terrible to us, which he had gone to besiege, had at last been taken by him on capitulation, after a siege that had lasted several days, on the 24th of this month, and moreover with such good success that on our side during the whole siege only 3 men were killed and 17 wounded. The joy at this first advantage gained over the enemy was indescribable throughout the army, and it seemed that it greatly lessened the fear we had of the Prussians, for their bravery was then extolled to the skies and had been described to us as far too great, so that we knew well enough that we were going against a brave and strong enemy who could only be feared, although in reality his forces were far from being so terrible.

On the following day, which was the 1st of July, there was a celebration and a service of thanksgiving throughout our army for this happy event, and the earth fairly groaned from the sound of the cannon thundering beside the field marshal's tent, for we were tremendous lovers of wasting powder for nothing. He gave a magnificent dinner for all the generals, and we all could not have enough of the delight of gazing at the enemy colours that had been taken at Memel and, having been brought to the field marshal, were set up in front of his tent.

But this celebration was very nearly disrupted by a sad event.

At the very time when it was being held, a tremendous fire broke out in the small town of Barbarishki, and the wind carried the fire straight towards our artillery standing near the town, for which reason there was a tremendous alarm, and they hurried to carry off the powder chests as quickly as possible; however, the fire was soon put out, and no harm followed.

Thus we stood in this camp until the 6th of July, almost ten whole days, and on the said day the field marshal set out with the first division on the further march and, turning to the right, went straight to the Prussian borders, and on the following day (the 7th) we too set out with the others and, continuing our march right up to evening, spent the night by the village of Gutshe, where the camp of the whole army was now laid out according to a plan and in proper order, and not as before, brigade by brigade, with one brigade here and another there; for the nearer we came to the enemy's land, the more precautions we began to take, and besides it was necessary to learn to encamp together.

On the following day (the 8th), and well past noon, we set out on the march again and, continuing it until midnight itself, came to spend the night in the camp laid out by the small town of Lyudvinov.

At this place we stood again for four whole days (the 9th, 10th, 11th and 12th), during which time nothing memorable happened, except that on the 12th, after dinner, there was an extraordinarily violent thunderstorm with a gale and hail. Many officers had their tents torn down then, but mine held. The hail was so large that almost all of it was the size of a hazelnut, and many hailstones were bigger than a walnut.

On the 13th we set out on the march again and were obliged to go round an enormous forest and suffer a shortage of water. We spent the night by a small Polish town whose name I have forgotten, and in the morning (the 14th), taking water with us, we marched to another small Polish town whose name I could not find out at the time, and here again we spent the night in the empty town.

At last, on the 15th, we came to the small Polish town of Verbalov, which was almost the very last before the Prussian land. And as we had thus come almost right up to the enemy's land, the camp of the whole army was again laid out together, in a battalion square; precautions were now also being taken. Chevaux-de-frise were thrown out in front of our front, just as if the Prussians were Turks and Tatars and were already right under our noses and could cut us all down and hack us to small pieces if this ridiculous precaution were not taken, although they were still very far from us. But even that was not enough; beyond these chevaux-de-frise, tremendous pickets were also posted every night, with cannon and howitzers. Nothing vexed us so much as these accursed pickets, in which we were obliged to spend the night under arms and without tents, a precaution that was not yet at all necessary and served only to accustom us to the toils of war, and still more to burden us needlessly.

At this place, before even entering the Prussian borders, the army stood again for a whole week, partly waiting for our cavalry still coming up behind, partly taking time to gather intelligence about the enemy and about the places through which we were to march. During which time, on the next day, Major General Count Pyotr Aleksandrovich Rumyantsev did indeed arrive with all the cavalry and the cuirassier regiments, with which he had come from Russia through Poland by quite another road.

On the following day, that is, the 17th of July, a Prussian spy was already caught, riding about in the guise of a Polish nobleman, with dogs.

I think he laughed heartily, seeing our cowardice and excessive precautions. He was caught by our Cossacks and taken past us to the field marshal. It was said then that he was a Prussian lieutenant with two soldiers. Through this we learned that the enemy, for his part, was not idle either, but was likewise taking certain, but far more substantial, precautions.

On the 18th a new distribution of the regiments was again made in our army. Some regiments were designated for the advance-guard corps, which was always to march ahead, and the command of it was entrusted to Lieutenant General Lieven, who was considered in our army the most skilful and intelligent general, while other regiments were transferred from brigade to brigade. From us the Narva and Vyborg Regiments were then also taken away, and in their place the Belozersky and Butyrsky were assigned to the brigade. God knows what such shuffling was done for then.

With this our whole march through Poland and through friendly lands came to an end, and as from this time it began in the enemy's land, permit me, my dear friend, to end this letter here and tell you that I am, etc.

THE ENTRY INTO PRUSSIA, AND AN ALARM

Letter 41

My dear friend! Having related to you in the preceding letters the whole story of our slow and toilsome march through Poland, I shall now proceed to describe our march through Prussia, or our actual military exploits. I shall tell you, my dear friend, how we entered the enemy's land, how we marched through it, how we waged the so-called petty war with the enemy's raiding parties, and then how we fought their whole army in regular fashion. However, before proceeding to this description itself, I have thought it not superfluous to preface it with a few words about the circumstances concerning our enemies.

As the King of Prussia, in the manner mentioned before, flattering himself with the hope of defeating the Austrians, had employed most of his strength against them, nothing else remained for him with regard to the other places and lands of his dominion but to cover them with only small detached corps.

Of all of them, none caused him so much anxiety as Prussia.

The remoteness of this kingdom from the places where he himself was, and the troubled circumstances in which he found himself after being defeated by the Austrians at Kolin, put obstacles in the way of his going there himself to defend it against our troops, which were approaching it and preparing to enter it. For which reason, against his will, he was obliged to entrust its defence and protection to an old man, his field marshal Lehwaldt, giving him as many troops as he could possibly spare, the number of which did not reach even 40 thousand men. With this small army, though one consisting of the best old regiments, Field Marshal Lehwaldt took up position to cover, as far as possible, Königsberg, as the capital of this state, and, the better to observe the movements of our troops, he set out from Königsberg as early as April and encamped his army between Tilsit and Memel, and established his headquarters in Insterburg. Here he ordered all the inhabitants, mounted and on foot, to be trained daily in the use of arms, and the town ramparts and ditches to be repaired and the former furnished with cannon; and then he stretched a cordon of troops from the Zhmud borders right up to Memel.

These dispositions constituted his first preparations; but as soon as he heard that we were approaching Prussia with the whole army from the direction of Poland, this prompted him to unite all his troops and gather them at Insterburg, and to leave Memel, because of its remoteness, to the mercy of fate, for he could in no way relieve it from the siege without laying bare the interior of the state. He did, however, send a corps of troops in that direction, under the command of Major General Kanitz, to keep our troops from penetrating further into Prussia from the direction of Memel.

In this position he awaited the approach of our troops; but no sooner had we drawn near the very frontier in the manner described above than he, feeling himself far too weak to withstand the onrush of our numerous army, and fearing to be hemmed in from two sides — by us in front and on the flank by the corps of General Fermor, which had already taken Memel — thought it wise to fall back still further with his whole army and to move his headquarters from Insterburg to Wehlau, whither the corps of General Kanitz was afterwards also recalled, it having proved too weak to halt Fermor's advance. He did not, however, leave Insterburg and the whole course of the Pregel entirely bare, but left there the renowned Colonel Malachowski with hussars and other light troops, to observe the movements of our forces and to harass us on the march as far as he could.

Such, then, were the circumstances in which Prussia found herself at the time when we arrived at her borders and were preparing to enter her with our whole army.

The first entry of our advance troops took place no earlier than the 20th of July, for on that day our vanguard under the command of General Lieven was at last dispatched from Wirballen and entered the enemy's land. Having reached the first Prussian township, called Stallupönen, he at once sent out a party to search for the enemy and gather news of him, consisting of 300 men of the Narva and Ryazan mounted grenadier regiments and 180 Chuguyev Cossacks, under the command of Major de la Rua of the Ryazan dragoon regiment. But this first step of ours proved most unfortunate. To our shame and dishonour, the enemy routed our party — and this might perhaps not have happened had a Russian, and not a Frenchman, been sent with it; but His Excellency Mr Lieven (who disliked all Russians and gave every Baltic yokel precedence over all of them, for he was the very same man who had earlier been at Reval and whom I mentioned before) saw fit to entrust so important a commission to this French gentleman, who justified his choice very poorly.

This worthless officer had hardly ridden three miles ahead of Stallupönen when, seeing no enemy anywhere, he most foolishly took it into his head that there was none anywhere near, and therefore, quartering himself in the village of Kumelen, he began to carouse and drink — and not only himself, but he gave free rein to all his dragoons to indulge in the same drunkenness and other excesses, exactly as though they were in some friendly country and had no cause to fear anything. But they were all sorely deceived. The above-mentioned brave Prussian colonel Malachowski had no sooner learned of our troops' entry than in a single instant he was already there with a multitude of black hussars and his own yellow ones. The unexpected word that Prussian hussars had already appeared beyond the village alarmed our carousers, who were scattered all over the village, and threw them all into the greatest confusion. But while they were running together and assembling, while they were hastily forming up beyond the village, the whole enemy party was already upon them. Our Cossacks did themselves credit and fell upon the enemy from both flanks with their great and customary shouting; but as they found there not Tatars but disciplined and brave hussars, these soon turned them back, giving them a good volley from their carbines. This first unsuccessful attempt so frightened our dragoons — who are not very brave even without it — that, seeing the enemy himself galloping to attack them sabre in hand, they took such fright that, without firing a single shot, they wavered and took to flight. Then the enemy rode right on their heels and chased them through the village of Mikulen for more than two miles, cutting and stabbing them and taking them prisoner. At last relief arrived for our men and stopped the enemy from pursuing further.

In this first skirmish, so unlucky for us, more than 40 of our dragoons were killed, as well as several Cossacks, and 26 men were taken prisoner.

On the enemy's side, if one is to believe their reports, not a single man was lost, and only 3 were wounded and 1 horse killed.

The news of this unhappy incident at once spread throughout our camp. Everyone was extremely displeased with our dragoons, and all cursed and abused the major without any mercy. And he received a fitting punishment for it. He was reduced to the ranks, put in irons and ordered to be court-martialled, while the sergeant-major of his detachment, Dryabov, who had shown considerable courage, had tried to halt the detachment in its flight and had resisted the enemy as best he could, was promoted to lieutenant,

But it would have been well had the whole affair ended there and our entire misdeed been thereby effaced! That, however, was not what followed. The incident in question, although outwardly it seems of no significance — for such small skirmishes occur in countless numbers in wars, they never decide the main issue and for the most part turn only to the harm and burden of both sides — cannot be so described; it is particularly memorable for having produced great and terrible consequences that turned into misfortune for many thousands of people. For, firstly, by making a great impression of Prussian bravery on our whole army, it thereby increased in the hearts of a great many soldiers the timidity, cowardice and fear of the Prussians that they already felt strongly enough; secondly, it instilled in our enemies a very unfavourable opinion of us and of our courage and encouraged them extraordinarily; thirdly — and this was the most important and memorable of all — it gave cause for not only the enemy troops but the very inhabitants of Prussia to imagine that we were all worse than old women and good for nothing. Hence even their peasants took up arms against us and began trying to cause us harm and trouble everywhere, and, to our particular misfortune, they made their first attempt at this in the said village of Mikulin; for as our men, pursued by the Prussians, galloped through this settlement, the local inhabitants, thinking that the Prussians had already conquered us all, thoughtlessly took it into their heads to help the hussars beat us themselves, and fired at our men from their houses and windows. And this gave rise to the following: when it was reported to our field marshal, he, embittered and vexed by all of it, gave that ill-fated order that henceforth, wherever anything similar should happen and the inhabitants should raise a hand against us, the inhabitants themselves were not to be spared and such villages were to be laid waste.

But no sooner had this unhappy order left his lips than it was at once abused by our Cossacks, Kalmyks and other light troops.

Sent out everywhere and in every direction to reconnoitre the enemy, they no longer spared either the innocent or the guilty, but in many places, out of greed for gain, began to wreak great devastation: not only driving the inhabitants out of their villages, but torturing, beating and robbing them, stripping their houses bare and in places burning them, and committing such atrocities, inhumanities and outrages as befit only barbarians — which not only instilled in all the inhabitants of Prussia the greatest hatred and malice towards us, but also covered us with shame and dishonour before the whole world, for word of these devastations and barbarities at once spread everywhere, and everywhere people began to regard us as veritable barbarians. But even this was not enough: since there was afterwards no way of restraining our Cossacks once they had acquired a taste for it, the devastation they wrought later turned to real harm for ourselves, and brought it about that all the efforts undertaken that summer, numerous as they were, gained us nothing but dishonour and brought not the slightest benefit.

See what the error of a single man can produce! But I have already strayed from my subject, and now it is time to return to the continuation of my story.

At last, on the 22nd of July, the whole army set out on the march and entered the Kingdom of Prussia. Entering the enemy's land produced a peculiar feeling in all of us: "God bless us," we said to one another then, with the land of our enemies beneath our feet, "now at last we have reached Prussian soil! Who knows whom God will allow to leave it safely, and who is destined to lay down his head in it!" We found the places of this kingdom quite different from the Polish ones. Here an entirely different order and arrangement already prevailed in everything: the villages were clean, laid out and built in a handsome manner, the roads were good everywhere, paved everywhere in low-lying places, and in some places raised like dams and planted with trees. In a word, one could not look at anything without particular pleasure. Moreover, as no devastation had yet been committed at that time, all the inhabitants were in their houses and, not fearing us in the least, all stood in front of their homes, while the women and girls filled tubs with fresh water and gave drink to the soldiers passing by. In a word, it seemed then that we had entered not an enemy land but a friendly one.

Our first halt in Prussia was at the aforesaid first Prussian township, or little town, of Stallupönen.

Although we marched there by two roads, both divisions went side by side, and so we encamped in a single line on both sides of this township, with it in front of us.

No sooner had we (on the 23rd) arrived at this place and settled down to rest for a day than on the following day the first alarm occurred throughout our whole army. It was at midday itself that the drums began to beat everywhere in our regiments, and all the men were alarmed beyond measure. Everyone dropped whatever he was doing, dressed, seized his weapons and ran to the front, where all the regiments were being led out. Generals rode back and forth before the regiments, while adjutants and orderlies kept galloping now one way, now the other, raising whole pillars of dust. Not knowing why all this was happening, and having not the slightest information about any of the above-mentioned circumstances concerning the Prussian army or how far it was from us, we concluded nothing other than that the whole enemy army was surely coming to attack us and was already very close; so it must be confessed that this first occasion and the approach of an imagined battle brought upon us all a certain kind of timidity, especially since no one had yet ever seen the enemy or had occasion to be in battle. Our regiment happened at that time to stand almost on the extreme right flank, and so a little later several hundred men were snatched from ours and from some other regiments and sent, under one colonel, to the right beyond the village with the greatest haste. It seemed to us then that the enemy was surely there and that we would be the first to fight him; and as I myself happened to be in that detachment, I can say that I saw plenty there of how not only young men such as I was then, but even the oldest soldiers showed timidity, so that we officers were obliged to encourage them and urge them to fearlessness. Even now I cannot recall without laughing what role I played then. My own heart was going this way and that, and I think anyone could have seen from my face that it was not in its place and that I myself was badly frightened and afraid; yet for all that I tried by every means to hide it and, assuming an air of heroism and fearlessness, I urged and exhorted my soldiers in every way not to be afraid or lose heart and to fight the enemy bravely. In short, I read them whole sermons all the way, while my own legs could barely keep up with them. What will novelty and inexperience not do? But what came of it all in the end?

Having come out beyond the village, which was called Petrinatschen and lay almost in front of our line, we saw no one before us, only an open field and, at some distance, a forest.

However, as everything pointed to the need to cover this village and the right flank of our army, and we concluded that the enemy was surely in the forest, we formed up in proper order, made our muskets and cartridges ready and began to wait for the enemy. But we would have had a long wait, for there was not a breath of the enemy there, and, having stood there until evening itself, we strained our eyes in vain. At last night came on and we were led away from that place; but instead of being let go to the camp, we were taken back a little and again posted in the open field to cover the right flank of the army, where we were obliged to stand the whole of the following night, which was a very hard one for us and the first I spent in great discomfort, for no sooner had dusk fallen than a terrible cloud moved in and there broke out such a terrible storm, with a tremendous downpour and gale, that I have seldom seen the like in my life. From which one can easily imagine what it was like for us to spend the whole night not only without tents but even without cloaks, in rain and storm — and, most vexing of all, for nothing and without any need. Enough to say that we all, abandoning rank, sheltered under ammunition boxes and cannon, and even the staff officers kept us company there. For all that, we were not dismissed until daybreak, and this perhaps came about because we had been entirely forgotten, for there was no danger whatever, and we could never find out afterwards what had caused all this alarm and confusion; one must suppose that some wretched enemy hussars sent out to spy had shown themselves somewhere, and our commanders perhaps thought that the whole Prussian army was already coming to rout us and drive us out of the kingdom, for a small party would not have been worth the trouble of alarming and disturbing the whole army.

In the morning, that is on the 24th of July, we set out further on the march with the whole army and went a mile and a half to a Prussian village, where we encamped on hills and very uneven ground, and again rested in that place for a day. Here we saw for the first time the pitiful consequences of bloody war. In the whole village there was not a single person; all the inhabitants had fled and were hiding in the forests, leaving their houses and all their property to be plundered by the enemy. This village had indeed already been ravaged by our men in the most terrible manner. There was hardly a single house left whole in which something had not been hacked, smashed or split; not one window and not one stove remained intact, exactly as though these very inanimate things were enemies and had done us wrong. As for the peasants' other belongings, which they had not managed to take with them, there was no trace of them left, only feathers and down strewn over the floors of the cottages, for our men did not want to part even with the ticks of their bedding; but as nobody needed the feathers, they lay about everywhere on the floors of cottages and rooms, and this was the common sight wherever such devastation took place.

Such a spectacle struck us and aroused a certain pity even for our enemies. It was said throughout the army at the time that the Prussian inhabitants themselves had given cause for such devastation; that our field marshal had announced to all of them in manifestos that they would be left in peace provided they themselves undertook no hostile actions, but that they had listened rather to their own troops, who ordered them to harass us at every opportunity and cause us every harm, and so the very peasants used to fire at our soldiers from the forests and from behind bushes, especially after the last skirmish, which had gone so well for them. It was further said that our field marshal had sent a courier to the Prussian commander-in-chief demanding that the peasants be forbidden to commit such outrages and disturbances, and that otherwise they would receive due punishment for it. But since the enemy made no such prohibition, it was this, supposedly, that moved our commander to punish them himself and to try to avert this evil by the devastations in question.

Whether this rumour was true or not, I do not know for certain; all that is known is that the evil was not lessened by it, but only increased still more.

On the 26th we set out on the march again and on that day reached the notable Prussian town of Gumbinnen, the capital of the surrounding district, and, encamping beside it, rested there two whole days, during which time all the inhabitants of Gumbinnen were sworn in. This fine little town, being unfortified and abandoned by its own people without any cover, submitted to us without objection and sent its magistrates to the field marshal in advance with a petition that he take them under his protection; and some other nearby towns and townships did the same.

As on the way from this place onward to the town of Insterburg the army had at one point to pass through a very narrow defile through a thick and large forest and between hills, and news had been received that this narrow pass was occupied by enemy hussars, on the evening of the 27th, after tattoo had already been beaten, a considerable party was sent from the army to inspect and clear this narrow pass, consisting of 300 hussars, 300 Chuguyev Cossacks and 500 Don Cossacks under the command of Quartermaster General von Stoffeln and the hussar colonel Stoyanov; and Brigadier Demiku with several squadrons of cuirassiers and other cavalry regiments was ordered to follow in their support. This party, approaching the said forest at dawn the next day, did indeed find no small number of enemy hussars under the command of the above-mentioned Colonel Malachowski, and therefore at once engaged them, and this small fight was our first proper engagement with the Prussians. The Prussians wrote in their reports that the said colonel had with him only a little over a hundred hussars, and that on the night before that date, having set out from Gerwischkehmen to reconnoitre the position of our army, he had come within less than half a mile of us, and that fog and darkness had supposedly forced him to return to his post, taken up between the river Pissa and the Pitschin forest, and that there our men attacked him in far superior strength, which led to a fierce exchange of fire lasting two whole hours; but that in the end he supposedly drove our men off, though, since they withdrew into the forest, it was impossible to pursue them further. To this, after their custom of boasting and lying in the most shameless and unscrupulous manner, they add that we supposedly lost, besides many wounded and one hussar taken prisoner by them, more than 50 men killed, while on their side only a few men were killed and wounded.

But this is quite untrue, and their lie is evident from their very report, although they tried to cover it up by assurances of the truthfulness of their statements and by particularly praising the bravery of our hussars and Cossacks.

In actual fact, as was well known to us, who were almost eyewitnesses, Colonel Stoyanov attacked them with his hussars and Cossacks so bravely that, after a two-hour fight and exchange of fire, they were forced to take to flight, and our party, without even waiting for its support, not only drove them out of the said defile but chased them for more than a mile and even beyond Insterburg, killing about 50 hussars with one officer and taking prisoner 1 hussar, 1 jäger and 2 armed peasants. On our side 1 hussar lieutenant and 5 hussars were killed, and 1 Cossack cornet, 1 Cossack and several hussars were wounded.

The news of this first small advantage gained over the enemy greatly heartened our whole army. Everyone rejoiced that the Prussians, too, knew how to run, and that our past blunder had been sufficiently made good. Moreover, General Stoffeln was praised for his prudent dispositions and Colonel Stoyanov for his fearless bravery; and it was also said that some of our gentlemen volunteers had been present at this fight, namely the young Count Apraksin, Count Bruce, Prince Repnin and Baron L'Hôpital, nephew of the French envoy.

Meanwhile, while all this was happening ahead of us, we stood quietly with the army at Gumbinnen and rested, which I remember particularly because I spent that whole day working on the translation of my book.

Having thus taken possession of the above-mentioned narrow pass, our army set out on the march on the 29th, leaving the Nizovsky infantry regiment with the sick at Gumbinnen, and, having crossed the little river Narp and reached the said forest and the village of Stanaitschen, encamped there.

No sooner had we reached this place than word came from the vanguard sent on ahead that the whole enemy army was supposedly forming up in order of battle beyond the forest; and as this was taken to mean that it intended to give battle, or to prevent us with all its strength from passing through the said narrow and long forest, the general march was beaten as soon as it grew dark, and the whole army, leaving all the baggage trains and several regiments to cover them, marched with its artillery through the said forest by night. We with our regiment remained in the rearguard with the baggage and waited impatiently to learn what would happen to the army ahead and whether a general battle or some important engagement would take place. In the morning, however, we heard that it had passed through the said forest safely and without any hindrance, and that nothing had happened apart from a small skirmish in the forest between our Cossacks and Prussian hussars who had ridden up to reconnoitre our army, in which the latter were once again driven off with losses. Although the Prussians, in their announcements about this third incident as well, lie mercilessly and boastfully, saying that they drove our men off and suffered only small losses — how could that be, when our whole army was passing there, and only some two hundred of theirs rode up with the said Colonel Malachowski?

Having passed through the forest, our army found before it not only no main enemy army, but no Prussian troops at all, and then it was learned that all the talk of the Prussian army had been quite false. It was true that enemy infantry had been seen forming up around those parts, but it was afterwards learned that this had been only a small detachment, consisting of a certain number of Prussian cavalry and infantry, which had been sent ahead from their army under the command of Major General Platen to observe the movements of our troops and to cover Insterburg, and so it had stood by that town up to that time. But, learning of our army's imminent approach and considering itself too weak to hold it back, it was then preparing to retreat further beyond Insterburg and was destroying the bridges at that town over the little rivers Aalrup and Inster; and to our advance troops it had seemed that the whole enemy army was already forming up in order of battle and preparing for a fight, although that army was still several versts away from us and had no such thing in mind or even in thought.

And as for us — God knows how much cowardice and fear there was!

From which it follows of itself that our commanders had very poor and insufficient knowledge of the enemy and of the position of his army.

And so in the morning we too, with the baggage trains and the rearguard, were ordered to follow the army, and, arriving there already at night, we found it standing some three versts from the town of Insterburg, within sight of it, having waited for us the whole day in the heat without tents.

On this march I happened for the first time to see an enemy — not alive, however, but dead. It was in the said forest that we were told a body was lying under a bush off to the side. We all galloped off with the greatest curiosity to look at it. But what a pitiful sight met our eyes! The man was of enormous stature and had a large moustache; he lay completely naked on his back, all swollen and bloated from the heat as if from dropsy; worms were swarming under all his puffed-up skin, so that one could not look at him without horror and an inward shudder. Indeed, we were soon obliged to turn our gaze away and, with a sigh, ride off, saying to one another: "This is how it may befall us too, to lie somewhere under a bush, given up as prey to the elements, beasts, birds, worms and insects!" But my letter is already long. It is time for me to end it and to tell you that I am, etc.

MARCH THROUGH PRUSSIA

Letter 42

My dear friend! I ended my last letter to you with our arrival at Insterburg. Now, continuing my narrative further, I will say that no sooner had we come to this place than we heard that our men had already taken the town: for, as the Prussians had left only a small detachment in it, our Don Cossacks at once drove it out, and in its place we brought the Nevsky infantry regiment into this very poorly fortified little town as a garrison.

On the following day, that is the 31st of July, we moved closer to the town and took up a camp laid out between Insterburg and another little town, Georgenburg, lying opposite it across the river, and stood there both that day and the two following days, that is the 1st and 2nd of August.

During this time the first booty taken from the enemy in the town was shared out; it consisted of an enormous store of salt, of which there was so much that every person in the army, serving and non-serving alike, received two pounds each, and a great deal more was left over in reserve. An arsenal was also found in the town with a great quantity of old Prussian equipment, which was all handed out to our Kalmyks, and in Georgenburg several hundred chetverts of barley and oats were found.

On the following day, that is the 4th of August, the rest of our light Cossack and Kalmyk troops coming from Russia also arrived at the army, as well as several dragoon regiments under the command of General-in-Chief Sibilsky and also Lieutenant Generals Zybin and Kostyurin.

So the only one then still missing was General Fermor's division, which after taking Memel was likewise marching to join us.

The said General-in-Chief Sibilsky had only recently been taken into our service from the Polish service, and was taken on the strength of the reputation he enjoyed as a brave and skilful general. Therefore, on our approach to the Prussian border, he was sent to meet the said light troops and was ordered to enter Prussia with them at another point, further to our left, to direct his march through Goldap and Oletzko and to occupy the districts there. This general, on entering Prussia, was greatly astonished at the devastation, burning and plunder committed everywhere by the Cossacks, and was obliged, to his vexation, to witness all the cruelties and barbarities committed by our Cossacks and Kalmyks against all the rules of war.

Of these devastations, to our eternal shame, the Prussians wrote at the time in their reports that as soon as they entered Prussia through Oletzko, they at once plundered that town, and Goldap too, together with a great many villages, down to the last thread, and burned the villages of Monethen, Garzicken, Danilen and Friedrichshofen entirely to ashes, killing a very great number of people besides. Further, that in all those parts nothing was to be seen but fire and smoke; that the greatest licence and outrages were committed against the female sex; that all the women of the burnt village of Mopethen had fled to the lake, but even there, in the reeds, they could not hide from the Kalmyks; that Pastor Hoffmann in Schareiken was tortured by them half to death as they tried to force money out of him, although he had long since given them everything he had of his possessions; and so on.

Such conduct on the part of our Cossacks and Kalmyks truly brought us little honour, for all the European nations, hearing of such barbarities, began to think that our whole army was of the same kind.

As for these Kalmyks, it was then that we first had the opportunity to see these light troops of ours and to have a proper look at them. They seemed very strange to us, especially when they rode past us half-naked, selling their braided whips, which they are great masters at making. Their clothing was for the most part light, of red cloth, but they never put it on properly. We could not watch without disgust their favourite custom of eating horse carrion and boiling dead horse flesh in cauldrons. We also saw their divine service, held in a special round tent. Several of their clergy sat cross-legged in the Tatar fashion around the tent, by its walls, and each of them mumbled away, reading a little book, and in this alone consisted their entire service. For the rest, at first we thought very highly of their bravery, but afterwards it turned out that it would have made no difference had they not been there at all, for they brought us only dishonour and very little benefit. But I will return to the continuation of my narrative.

The third of August was set aside solely for the crossing of the river Inster, which flows between Insterburg and Georgenburg.

Though this river was small, a bridge had to be built, and crossing it could not be done quickly. And so the camp was pitched on the far side of it, next to Georgenburg Castle.

On the following day (the 4th) our newly arrived light troops crossed the river and, passing through the army, took up positions in front of it, for they were assigned always to be in front, to form the so-called flying army and to clear our path of the enemy. For this reason, and while waiting for Fermor's division, the army had to rest for a day in this camp, sending only the vanguard corps on ahead.

During this day's rest we had time to visit the town of Insterburg and buy ourselves everything we needed. But we found almost nothing left: everything had long since been bought up, and nothing could be had for any money. This little town, though not very large, is quite fine. Its buildings are of stone, tall and rather neat. It stands right on the bank of the little river Angerapp, which here, joining the little river Inster and some others, begins to be called the Pregel and flows towards Königsberg. And as our army was set to march along the far side of the Pregel, it had to turn left from this place.

On the morning of the fifth we were ordered to march, but before setting out I had occasion to see a pitiful spectacle of a kind that Russia had almost entirely forgotten during the happy and peaceful reign of Elizabeth, and which I had never yet had occasion to see, namely: the execution of guilty criminals. We were astonished, getting up in the morning, to see a gallows erected right in front of our regiment, and did not know what it might mean. But we soon learned the reason. Our regiment was led out to the front and formed around it, and we saw several Prussian peasants in irons beside it. Their crime consisted in having, in the manner described above, villainously fired from behind bushes at our soldiers and killed several of them. And as these disturbances had multiplied, it had been decided, to frighten the others, to put to death several of those who had been caught. And so two were hanged before our eyes, while eleven men, whose crime was not so great, had fingers cut off their hands and were set free again.

I can say that I could not watch this bloodshed without revulsion, and even now I cannot recall it without an inward shudder of the heart.

Although the use of this cruel measure did have the benefit that from then on the Prussian peasants committed fewer outrages, on the other hand it gave the Prussians occasion in their writings to accuse us of cruelty all the more, and even to invent and fabricate much against us that perhaps never happened at all, as will be mentioned below.

When this execution was over, we set out on the march and continued our way along the right bank of the river Pregel, downstream, but covered no more than six versts that day and encamped by the village of Sterkenimken in two lines; the vanguard, however, was posted several versts ahead at the village of Leisenimken, and further ahead still our light troops were clearing the places around Saalau.

We stood in this place three whole days, for the enemy army was now not very far from us, and his advance troops, under the command of Lieutenant General Count Dohna, were quite close: with 6 battalions of infantry and 15 squadrons of cavalry he had moved several miles ahead of the army and taken up a very advantageous position at Taplacken, fortifying his camp with an entrenchment and batteries; in front of him were their hussars and other light troops, and this soon gave occasion for a skirmish between them and our Cossacks, for when our Cossacks and Kalmyks were sent out from the said camp in search of the enemy, they soon came upon Prussian hussars stationed at Norkitten, who had dared to attack them. But this time again their luck was very bad. They were beaten and driven off by our Cossacks and lost more than a hundred men. The Prussians themselves admit that they were defeated in this affair, though they try to cover up their failure with various pretexts, saying, for example, that one of their hussar officers stationed at Gaschdorf, moved to pity by fleeing Prussian villagers crying out that everything was being taken from them and plundered, and assured by deserters that our men numbered only a little over a hundred, followed the impulses of his courage and the feelings aroused in him by the sight of the plundered people and resolved to advance with 200 hussars as far as Norkitten in order to recapture the cattle the Cossacks had driven off. But there he was suddenly surrounded by 3,000 Cossacks, while 300 men struck him in the flank from the direction of Plibischken, and so he was forced to retreat; but during this retreat, passing through many defiles and forced to fight without respite, he was himself killed, having lost up to 58 men of his detachment. This, however, is untrue: more of them were killed, while on our side only one Cossack was killed, who fell from a stumbling horse.

On the 6th of August the corps of General-in-Chief Fermor, which had been at Memel, at last joined us in this camp.

And as our whole army was now united, it will not be out of place on this occasion to mention how large it was and what generals led and commanded it.

As regards the number of troops, then, there were 19 cavalry regiments in all. This cavalry consisted of 5 cuirassier regiments, 3 dragoon, 5 hussar and 6 mounted grenadier regiments, to which were added a further 14,000 Cossacks, 2,000 Kazan Tatars and 1,000 Kalmyks. The infantry consisted of 28 musketeer and 3 grenadier regiments. So the whole army was reckoned to number as many as 134,000 men, namely: 19,000 cavalry, 99,000 infantry and 16,000 irregular troops.

As for the general officers with it, our commanders and leaders were the following persons: 1) Field Marshal General Apraksin, as commander-in-chief; 2) the generals-in-chief: Georg Lieven, Lopukhin, Browne, Fermor and Sibilsky. The first of these, that is Lieven, did not command troops but was attached to the field marshal's suite, having been given to him for counsel and, as it were, as a tutor — a strange example indeed! But be that as it may, he had a great share in all the military operations; and we would not have covered ourselves with such shame before the whole world had we not had this clever fellow and would-be philosopher with us; 3) the lieutenant generals: Matvei Lieven, Ivan Saltykov, Prince Alexander Golitsyn, Zybin and Wilhelm Lieven; 4) the major generals: Baumann, Schilling, Olitz, Zagryazhsky, Prince Lubomirski, Count Rumyantsev, Count Chernyshev, Prince Dolgorukov, Manteuffel, Panin, Fast, Khomyakov and Prince Volkonsky; 5) the quartermaster generals: Villebois and Stoffeln; 6) the lieutenant quartermaster generals: Weymarn and Springer; and 7) the brigadiers: Demiku, Tiesenhausen, Dietz, Treyden, Plemyannikov and Hartwich.

That is how large our army was reckoned to be on the rolls and on paper; but in reality it was then far from being so large, for many regiments were not at full strength, and besides, a great many men from all of them were away on various detachments and leave; so that hardly two-thirds, or even half, of the said number were actually present.

And so, no sooner had the whole army been united in the manner described above than on the very next day after that (the 7th) a new allotment and new disposition of the regiments was made throughout the army, and by this allotment our regiment fell to the vanguard corps under the command of General Lieven.

This corps was then made up of five infantry regiments, all chosen from the most under-strength, together with three regiments of grenadier dragoons, four hussar regiments and several thousand Cossacks and Kalmyks.

We set out with this corps ahead of the army, already on the evening of the 8th, and, having covered some eight versts, took up by night the camp marked out for the whole army at a Prussian township, Leisenimken, where the whole army also arrived on the 9th.

On that day there was an exchange of fire between our hussars and Cossacks and the enemy's advance parties, who had dug in at a very advantageous spot some three versts ahead of our camp, and the firing was especially heavy towards evening; but when it grew dark it died down, and our men, having driven off the enemy, returned to camp; and this was already the fourth skirmish with the enemy.

On the 10th the whole army was ordered to rest there and to occupy itself with baking bread; but scarcely had day broken when small-arms fire was heard again, as well as several cannon shots. We had grown so used to these exchanges of fire that we were not in the least troubled by them in the camp, but lay about comfortably in our tents, for we were sure that it was going on between the advance troops, that they could manage on their own and that the business would never reach us. This time, however, we too were disturbed somewhat, when 200 men per regiment were hastily snatched from the vanguard and sent with several cannon to the place where the firing was going on. The reason for this was that our Cossacks, exchanging fire with a withdrawing enemy picket, had come upon a Prussian grenadier battalion stationed by the village of Kolenen and had been driven off by its cannon. However, it never came to action between our infantry and theirs, and our men returned to camp towards evening; on the other hand, our Cossacks, having come upon a few Prussian hussars in a village lying not far opposite our regiment and suffered some losses from them, were so enraged that they surrounded it and burned the whole village to the ground together with everyone in it. That day our Cossacks were led by their colonels, Dyachkov and Serebryakov, and the fight was so hot that the Prussians withdrew having lost about 100 men killed and six taken prisoner.

On the 11th the army still stood motionless in this place, and a tremendous rain fell all day; towards evening shooting was again heard in the distance and went on until night.

This was already the sixth skirmish, and it consisted in our light troops coming upon several companies of Prussian Landmiliz at the village of Ilschiken, routing them and driving them off.

On the 12th the army was still standing in the same place and was choosing the best spot where it could cross the river Pregel; for although its intention had been to proceed further along the river Pregel, on learning that all the places and defiles there had been seized by the Prussians and the most important points fortified with redoubts and batteries, it was decided to abandon this route, turn left and, having crossed the Pregel, bypass these bad places on that side, and by this very means also lure the enemy out of his fortifications. And this did indeed happen, for this very thing induced Field Marshal Lehwaldt to come out of his fortified camp and, likewise crossing the Pregel at Taplacken, to march out to meet us.

And although we did not then know the true position of the Prussian army, everyone concluded that it must soon come to a battle, for everything was already tending that way.

Meanwhile, as all this was going on and we stood in this camp for about three days, certain adventures befell me which I must tell you about. The first arose from a sheer bit of mischief or plaything of mine with which I took it into my head to amuse myself at leisure, and which very nearly brought trouble upon me, namely: one day, when my servant went to my travelling chest to take out some linen, my eye happened to fall on a large glass horn hidden in it, containing that white fulminating powder which I mentioned above and of which I had made myself a fair quantity during my stay at the Kaltebrun manor. No sooner had I seen it than a desire was born in me to try burning it in a large quantity and see how loudly it would bang. This had long been on my mind, but until then there had been no convenient occasion for it, and I kept forgetting about it. But now I wanted it impatiently, and so, taking it out, I put it on my camp table and went to look for a place where I could most conveniently put it into effect.

It so happened that the day was a most beautiful one, and it was the very hottest time of midday. The soldiers, having cooked their kasha and eaten their dinner, had all lain down to sleep; but the fires in the fireplaces were still smouldering.

Walking about behind the baggage trains and looking at these smouldering fires, I luckily saw in one place a trivet standing over a small fire and a frying pan lying beside it. What could be better? I decided to pour some powder into it and set it on the trivet, and no sooner had I thought of it than I put it into effect. I ran in an instant for my powder, poured about a good tablespoonful into the pan and, stirring up the fire, set the pan on the trivet. But as I could easily conclude that it would bang loudly and knock the pan off the fire, so as not to expose myself to danger I went into my tent, from which, luckily, the place could be seen, and, lying down on my bed there, let down the flap on that side and watched impatiently for what would follow. For a long time nothing happened, and I thought the fire was small and therefore the powder was slow to melt. But I was mistaken. It melted away happily and suddenly produced exactly such a blast as if an enormous bomb had burst. Not expecting so powerful a blast, far exceeding all my expectations, I went numb and took fright, for only then and not before did it occur to me that my plaything could easily bring misfortune. "Oh dear!" I said to myself then, "what have I done, what mischief have I made! I hope there won't be an alarm, and no trouble for me from it. The blast was too strong and loud — I hope the field marshal himself didn't hear it. Why, he is quartered not far from here, and I quite forgot about that!" This thought at once threw me into great fear, which grew still greater when a minute later I saw that because of it not only our regiment but other regiments standing near us were indeed extremely alarmed. All the soldiers leapt up from their sleep, and there began a great running about and asking: where? what? from what! and why such a bang? Each asked another, and that one a third, and there was then no end to the nonsense talked. One said that a cannon had been fired; others argued that a bomb had burst; others again asked whether an ammunition box or a powder magazine had not blown up somewhere! A fourth lot did not themselves know what to think or how to judge. But all of them from every side ran to the place where the blast had been heard and where in an instant a great crowd gathered, which, however, only milled back and forth and, seeing nothing, did not know how to judge or to what to ascribe the blast.

For me, lying in my tent at the time and watching this whole spectacle, it was very, very unpleasant. "Well, there you are," I said to myself, "didn't I guess that I had made mischief!

It must have been the very devil that put it into my head to start this game! What if they find out the whole thing! What if someone saw me when I was at that fire!

What if they guess that I was the cause of it all?" Hardly had I uttered this when a new rumour struck my heart like a thunderbolt! Several orderlies came galloping from the field marshal, one after another, all shouting and asking: "Who was that? Who fired a cannon, and why?" I went numb and took fright when I heard this. I already thought that heaven knows what would happen, and grew so frightened that I did not know what to do; had it been possible, I would have run off somewhere and hidden so that I could never be found; but as there was nowhere to run or go, I found nothing better than to hide in my bed under the blanket and pretend to be asleep. But sleep was not on my mind then; I expected every minute that they would come, take me and lead me to the field marshal, for in my haste I already took it for certain that I had been seen and the whole thing found out, and so, trembling as if in a fever, I did nothing but pray to God in my thoughts to have mercy on me and deliver me from this trouble. But by particular good fortune it happened that no one had seen me at the fire, and it occurred to no one that it had come from me; all only kept repeating, marvelling, and themselves told those sent by the field marshal that something had banged there, but what it was and from what, no one had seen or knew, for neither fire nor smoke had been visible, and that they themselves could not stop marvelling at it. And that is how the affair ended, and it remained at that: no one knows, nor found out afterwards, for I had no reason to reveal it myself and boast of my prank, but lay on my bed without a peep until everyone had calmed down, and even then assured those who told me about it that I had slept so soundly that I had heard nothing.

But as my letter is already long, I shall end it and, putting off the rest until next time, remain, etc.

MARCH THROUGH PRUSSIA TO THE PREGEL

Letter 43

My dear friend! No sooner had the adventure described in my last letter come to an end, and I had rejoiced that everything had passed off and ended happily, than a new sorrow was already preparing to strike my heart. In that very same place another adventure befell me, but one that was more unfortunate for me and no longer resembled a joke, namely: I was robbed, and it was done that very same night, which unfortunately happened to be very dark and in which I slept, no longer pretending but in earnest, so soundly that I did not even hear my casket being pulled out from under my pillow and, after it had been broken open behind the tent, all the money being taken out of it. The deed was done so skilfully and masterfully that, getting up in the morning, I found my casket already broken open at some distance from the tent — and could only throw up my hands! For a long time, despite all my efforts, I could not find out who had pulled this off; but afterwards I learned that it had been a soldier newly assigned to our company, an utter rogue by nature, who had been thrown out of the grenadier company for it, although he was a huge brute of a fellow. On this occasion I lost about twenty roubles and a gold medal, which I regretted most of all, because it had been given to my grandfather, Mr Bakeyev, by the Emperor Peter the Great for having taken a Swedish schout-bij-nacht prisoner with his own hands during the capture of four frigates.

Although I tried hardest of all to get it back, the scoundrel had squandered it for a mere trifle in another regiment, and so I could no longer find it or recover it by any means.

I also remembered this place because I was sent from it on a foraging party; for as by this time the hay had everywhere been hidden and carted into the villages, and we were already close to the enemy and had no way of feeding all our horses on pasture, we were obliged to feed them on hay, fetching it from the nearby villages and sending detachments with officers for it every day. These detachments were the most dangerous for us, and everyone thanked God when he got off lightly. The reason was that our soldiers, and especially the non-combatants such as drivers, batmen and officers' servants, could by no means be held back. No sooner do you arrive in a village than they scatter through it, and instead of quickly bundling the hay into bales, they start searching and rummaging everywhere for goods and belongings, and you can find no one, so that at any moment enemy hussars may gallop up and cut down those who are scattered and in disorder. I, however, carried out my detachment's task safely. Although this village was very close to the enemy, that very fact was the reason for taking the greatest precautions. Luckily we found enormous barns stuffed with hay, and I, without letting the men disperse, ordered them to bind the bales as quickly as possible under my eye and carry them to the army; and I did well to make such haste, for no sooner had we left than Prussian hussars did indeed come galloping up, but found no one left in the village, and did not dare to pursue us.

As for this foraging, to anyone who has never seen it, it will seem very surprising, and he will not believe that so great a quantity of hay can be carried on a single horse, and, what is more surprising still, on horseback; for one must know that, to bring in the hay more quickly and conveniently, foraging is always done on horseback, and the hay is tied into two enormous bales or bundles, each of which is almost the size of a small cart-load, and both these bales are slung on ropes across the horse over the saddle, while the man sits between them and rides exactly as if on a hay cart, for these bales drag almost along the ground itself, and the horse can hardly be seen behind them. We ourselves were astonished when we first saw it, and our men did not know how hay is tied up in this way; but necessity soon taught them this art too.

Besides this, I remember this place also because it was here that we first saw and came to know the potato, a garden produce of which until then we had had no notion.

In all the villages near our camp great plots of it had been sown and planted, and as at about this time it had begun to ripen and was already fit to eat, our soldiers soon sniffed it out, and in an instant it was boiling in every cauldron. For all that, owing to the unfamiliarity of this food, it did not pass without illnesses arising from it in the army, mostly severe diarrhoea, and for getting to know this fruit our army had to pay with several hundred men who died of these illnesses.

As to whether we were otherwise satisfied with Prussia during this campaign, I can say that after our light troops reached the army, not only did we suffer no want of anything, but we had plenty of everything, especially meat. There was a tremendous abundance of cattle, large and small, and of every kind of poultry and livestock, especially geese, and they could always be had at a very cheap price. We sometimes bought rams themselves for only ten kopecks apiece, and a goose for no more than five or four kopecks. All this was sold to us by our Cossacks and Kalmyks, for, scattering everywhere, they mercilessly laid waste all the villages lying round about. And as the inhabitants saved only their large cattle and, abandoning everything else, fled into the forests and hid there, the rich Prussian villages were everywhere full of a countless multitude of small livestock and every kind of fowl, and our Cossacks, Kalmyks, and even the dragoons and hussars themselves, had plenty everywhere to profit from. The only shortage we soon experienced was of salt and bread, but means were found to remedy even that.

But as good as this was on the one hand, so bad was it on the other. For all this plenty and short-lived abundance we had to pay very dearly, not only by the great want of everything we ourselves later suffered, but also by the eternal dishonour we thereby earned throughout the world. For as all this was bound up with the utter ruin of innocent Prussian country people, it gave the Prussians cause to bring before the whole world great and hardly unjust complaints against us, as can easily be seen from what they wrote about it in their reports.

"This autumn," they say, "no one here has sown winter grain. The enemy, for lack of fodder for his numerous baggage train and cavalry, forages everywhere in the greatest disorder and strips all the villages bare. It must be said in praise of General Fermor's corps that it maintained the best order possible and, for all its plundering, at least committed no cruelties or inhumanities: which is why most of the inhabitants in those parts remained in their houses and, as far as they could, supplied the enemy, who came to the same place twenty times over.

The main army, on the contrary, has filled the whole country with cruelties and inhumanities. All the villagers flee from it and seek safety in the forests and in impassable places.

Many inhabitants, out of sheer wantonness and folly, and merely because one cannot give more, or cannot tell something he himself does not know, have their noses and ears cut off; all his cattle are taken from him and then sold in the enemy army for next to nothing, because, as they themselves say, a Cossack must get his own money and food. And from this very thing arise such outrages and deeds as nature itself abhors. Many people are strangled with nooses; others, still half alive, have their bellies slit open and their hearts torn from their breasts; from others their children are carried off; and still worse inhumanities are committed, such as no words can describe. The villager, robbed and deprived of all he owned, is thereby driven to extraordinary fury and rage. Wherever he can, instead of alms he begs for a wretched musket, powder and lead, and tries with them to protect and defend the last of his things that he has managed to save from plunder in the forests. And in this way they have already shot more than two hundred Cossacks, who ride even into the forests themselves and try to commit their villainies there too."

That is what the Prussians wrote about us, and one cannot vouch that our Kalmyks and Cossacks did not in fact commit such inhumanities here and there, especially off to the sides.

As for the other devastations, of those we ourselves were eyewitnesses. Of all the villages that came before our eyes, we never found a single one with people in it; all were empty and plundered clean. In all of them not only was there not a single house left whole, but even the hidden pits with belongings concealed in them, covered with brushwood and dung, could not escape our soldiers. They searched them all out too and plundered even the last. As for their fields and sown grain, wherever the army passed they were all in the most pitiful state; for as the army, especially once it began to draw closer to the enemy, marched for the most part in line and not along the road, but straight across the fields and any which way, there was no time to make out whether there was grain there or anything else, and everything was trampled and mixed with mud. Even the ravines and gullies we had to cross not by roads but straight across, any which way. And oh, how much breaking and overturning we had on such occasions! How many times some cart flew headlong down a slope, how many horses sank up to their ears in the mire, and how vexing these little crossings were to us!

Even now I still cannot cease to marvel at how we managed to repair our broken wagons and make them fit again to continue the march.

But I have already strayed from the main subject, and now it is time to return to the description of the continuation of the march. Thus our army stood in the said place until the 12th of August. But on that day it was decided, at the place where it had been resolved to cross the river, to form a wagenburg out of half of the army's heavy baggage, so as to leave it on this side and cross with the army to the other, and to try to force the enemy to battle. And so it was ordered that same day for half the baggage trains to set out and go to the river, and for our regiment, together with the Aisheron and the Arkhangelogorod dragoon regiment — the latter dismounted — to accompany them to cover the said wagenburg; accordingly we set off that same evening, and as the distance to the river was only about three versts, we arrived there in good time and managed to form a proper wagenburg by the village of Simonikschen. This light field fortification, made up solely of wagons, we here saw and built for the first time. All the wagons were placed in a single row in such a way that the front wheels of one locked with the rear wheels of the next, so as to form an interlacing of wagons that no one could possibly ride through on horseback, and moreover from behind this wagon barrier one could, if need be, defend oneself even against infantry. With such an unbreakable linking of wagons a rather spacious area was enclosed, like a kind of fortress or town, which could serve as a refuge for all who could not go with the army. Meanwhile, while we were building this wagenburg, others were already busy building bridges over the river Pregel, which were ready by the morning of the following day; there were two wooden ones and three pontoon bridges.

On the following day, that is the 13th of August, the whole army set out and arrived at this place and encamped around the above-mentioned village, and the baggage trains were taken back again by the regiments, for leaving the wagenburg on this side had again been postponed; and so we all spent the night here together.

On the 14th, that is on the eve of the Feast of the Dormition, in the afternoon, our vanguard corps was ordered to cross the river Pregel by the bridges, and, having crossed it, we hurried to occupy a narrow pass on a hill beyond the river. For one must know that beyond the river there was at first a level meadow stretching for about two versts, and then suddenly came a steep and high hill, and at the top of it there was again level ground stretching for half a verst or a verst, and then began a very dense and enormous forest, beyond which was again a wide field surrounded by forests. But there was no passage onto this field through the forest; one had to go by a single narrow gap, a quarter of a verst wide, which lay on the left between the said forest and a terrible, steep ravine, through which a small stream flowed and from that side fell into the Pregel. It was this narrow defile that we had to occupy, and our corps was assigned to it. On arriving there, for lack of space we were obliged to stand edgewise, that is, along this narrow passage, and so we stood facing the end of the forest, while behind our baggage was the above-mentioned steep ravine.

The army, however, remained resting in its former camp across the river.

On the following day, to celebrate the Feast of the Dormition of the Mother of God, churches were set up in our regiments and divine service was held, and meanwhile the second division too was crossing to this side of the river and taking up position next to us, occupying the empty space that extended further and further to the right between the forest and the hill, where a camp had been marked out for the whole army. The main army with the cavalry, however, still remained on the other side of the river and, having taken three days' provisions, sent off only its baggage trains, which halted at the appointed places under the cover of the second division and our vanguard corps.

As the said second division was commanded by General-in-Chief Lopukhin, he had arrived the day before together with us and pitched his tent right opposite our regiment by the forest. As this general was very devout and moreover an exceedingly virtuous and good man, an all-night vigil was held at his quarters in the evening, and on this day he made confession and took communion, just as though he had a presentiment that his life would not last long and that he had only a few days left to live in this world. But as much as this general was loved and honoured by all the troops, so much was another disliked and despised — the dragoon major general Khomyakov, who was with us then and was famous solely for being a tremendous lover of walking sticks, of which he carried several hundred about with him, and who gave us much to laugh about at the time. This wretched old man, whom his decrepitude would have better suited to sitting at home behind the stove than being on campaign, was led by the devil to choose a place for his tent behind our baggage and on the very edge of the ravine; but this place was so awkward and so disturbed by our sick soldiers and those who had gorged themselves on potatoes that the poor old man was sorry for his life that he had settled there, and, seeing that all his sticks and canes were of no help, was obliged to flee and move his tent to another place.

No sooner had we heard Mass that day than we heard three shots from the signal gun at headquarters across the river. We already knew that this was the alarm signal, and so we all rushed at once to arms, and all the regiments were immediately and with great haste led out to the front, where we awaited orders. Soon after that we heard several more cannon shots in the distance. But no sooner had this happened than a tremendously heavy and terrible rain poured down on us and, lasting a whole hour, soaked us all to the skin.

After that, although we heard more cannon fire, nothing came of it, and we were dismissed again.

The reason for this alarm was that on that day the enemy had sent Major General Ruesch with 1,200 hussars and five squadrons of dragoon cavalry, supported by a sufficient number of infantry under the command of General Kanitz, to reconnoitre our army — a detachment which, coming upon our Cossack camp, killed some twenty of them; and this very thing moved the field marshal to send several hundred hussars and dragoons to their relief, who forced the enemy to retreat, recapturing from him the herd of Cossack horses he had seized. In this skirmish, once again, several men on both sides were killed and wounded.

On the day following, i.e. the 16th, the rest of the army and headquarters at last crossed the river as well and took up the appointed camp, and on that day our commander, Mr Apraksin, dined with General Lopukhin, who was quartered in front of us. His own camp he chose in the middle of the army behind the above-mentioned large forest.

As we were thus drawing ever closer to the enemy hour by hour, this day did not pass quietly either. Towards evening shooting was again heard across the river Pregel, and a regular volley, as well as several cannon shots. The reason was that the enemy had again appeared across the river near the camp and fired at our Cossacks and Kalmyks; but these forced them to retreat into the forest, killing 4 of their hussars and taking one prisoner.

It was said then that our Kalmyks on this occasion gave ample signs of their agility and of the bravery peculiar to such light peoples: 7 of them, spotting some twenty Prussian hussars who had moved away from the rest, swam across the Pregel naked and without saddles, with nothing but their darts, and fell upon them with such ferocity that, putting them to flight, they chased them all the way to their camp and, as mentioned above, killed three and took one prisoner. But this was almost the first and the last good action of theirs, for apart from this I never happened to hear of their doing anything distinguished.

Thus a little war went on among us almost every day, but soon after this a far more important one followed, as I shall relate in my next letter; meanwhile I am, etc.

THE FIRST ALARM

Letter 44

My dear friend! Now I have come to the most important point in time of our whole campaign of that year, that is, to the real military operations against the enemy; for what I have related so far consisted for the most part only of mere skirmishes or small and unimportant fights, which, as is well known, are never decisive but usually serve only to trouble and burden both armies and to waste men for nothing; or, to put it more briefly, now in due order I must tell you about our Apraksin battle, of which you have heard a good deal, but surely do not know the true events that took place there. And how could you know them, when you yourself were not present, and it is in no way possible to know everything truly from mere hearsay? My own examples have proved this to me well enough.

For all that, do not expect me to report to you in detail all the circumstances that occurred there. I confess to you in advance that I myself do not know them in detail, even though I was actually present there and saw everything with my own eyes. And how could so small a man as I was then know all the details of what went on in the army at a time when everything was in the greatest confusion, and when I, being then by chance a company commander, could not move a single step from my place and my company? So what else remains but to report what I could see myself and what came to my knowledge? An army on the march can be compared with nothing other than a great and populous city, in which a man in one corner certainly cannot know in detail everything that is done and happens at the other end; and I do not believe that anyone, not excepting the commanders themselves, could know all the details of a battle with complete exactness. The general turmoil and confusion, the noise, the cries, the dust, the thickness of the smoke, and above all the danger on every side and a thousand other circumstances may prevent it.

In such circumstances, what else remains but to report to you only what chance permitted me to see myself, or what I could hear at the time with certainty.

But as this battle was the only one I ever had occasion to witness myself, to make up for the shortcomings in other respects I shall at least try to portray everything I saw in the most vivid and detailed manner, so that you may picture to yourself all the events I witnessed as perfectly as possible and gain such an idea of them as if you had seen them yourself.

But before proceeding to the actual account of the battle, I should like first to portray for you the whole position of the time, or the disposition of our army, for without it you cannot possibly picture to yourself the true state of the confusion of that time or gain a true idea of the danger in which we then found ourselves. And to succeed in this the better, I have resolved not only to describe in detail everything known to me, but to explain what is necessary with plans and drawings as well. So I shall first tell you how our army was disposed in its last camp before the battle. I do not know what verdict to give — whether it stood in an advantageous place or a disadvantageous one, and whether our commanders should be praised or blamed for disposing it so.

So picture to yourself first, my dear friend, a high, level piece of ground not far from the bank of a not very large river flowing through a wide, deep and level valley. This high and level ground, lying on a hill at the foot of which the said valley began, was not so much wide as long; it was, as far as I remember, no more than half a verst wide and a verst and a half or two versts long, for on two sides this ground was surrounded by a large, close and dense forest, stretching a verst or more in breadth, or across, while on the third side it was cut by a very large and very deep ravine with a small stream flowing through it into the above-mentioned river Pregel. Thus this ground was enclosed almost on all sides by insurmountable barriers, and there were only two ways out of it, namely at its ends: at one end there was a small clearing between the forest, and at the other, between the forest and the said ravine, likewise a small open space, stretching a little over a quarter of a verst, or half a verst, in width.

It was on this fine ground that our army was encamped, and it seemed, to all appearances, that this position could not have been more advantageous, for it stood as if in a fortification made on purpose by nature and was covered on all sides by the most desirable barriers: in front of it, it had the said dense, tall and almost impenetrable forest, which covered its front in almost the best possible way. The right wing was covered by the same forest; the left by the said impassable and steep ravine; only the rear was open, but even that was inaccessible because of the said deep valley and the river Pregel, so that it need fear no enemy attack from any side. The narrow defile on the left wing by the ravine, which alone gave free passage from this place onto the wide Eggersdorf field lying behind the forest, was blocked by many regiments and covered by troops and batteries, and moreover had in front of it a small brook with a little hollow, which, flowing out of the Eggersdorf field, fell into the said large ravine.

The narrow clearing between the forests on the right wing had, as if on purpose, long ago been dug across by several small ditches, which came in very handy for us.

In a word, all the circumstances agreed with one another in the best possible way, and there could be no more convenient place than this for covering the camp during the expected battle; all that was required was the generals' skill to know how to make proper use of this place. But whether our commanders had the necessary skill for it or not, you will see from what followed; meanwhile, for better understanding, I shall present the whole lie of the land described to you in a drawing {See this drawing at the back of the book. Author's note. This drawing, however, is not in the manuscript book, nor is it found "at the back of it". M. S.}.

There you have the plan and description of the whole lie of the land on which our glorious military action took place. Picture it to yourself well, so that you may all the better make out all the events described below, to which I shall now at last proceed.

In my last letter I ended this subject with the army having crossed the river Pregel in full and encamped on the ground described above, and my account went up to the 16th of August. On the morning of the 17th all was still quiet in the army. From the orders issued we knew that we would stand in this place that day too, and so foraging parties were again sent out, and moreover we were ordered to draw provisions for more than half a month, and we drew them up to the 5th of September. In a word, of the enemy there was as yet neither sound nor sight nor any report, and although we all had good reason to conclude that he could not be far off and that it would soon come to real action with him, yet, knowing nothing for certain, we had no reason to trouble ourselves with fear and with imagining a deadly battle. In short, we were as calm as if we were still a hundred versts from the enemy, and, thinking of nothing, we drank and ate and made merry, amusing ourselves with various camp pastimes.

At last, before noon, we heard three cannon shots in the distance, and a little later two more. We took them for the enemy's and even said to one another that we had never yet heard such loud ones, and wondered whether the enemy might already be near; but as there was no stir in the army and everything was as calm as before, we took these shots for our own and concluded that our men were surely firing somewhere in the distance at enemy parties; and so, being already used to such sounds, we at once stopped thinking about it. But scarcely an hour had passed when we saw that we had been mistaken and that something important was surely afoot. A tremendous alarm arose in our army.

There began a terrible galloping and racing of adjutants and orderlies, shouting for everyone to fall in and lead the regiments out to the front.

In a single minute the former calm vanished and military commotion began. Everyone, dropping whatever he was doing, seized his weapons, put on his military gear and ran to take his place in his rank and appointed spot. Everywhere could be heard a low hum, running, and the urging of commanders. Our whole military host came alive, as it were, and in an instant all the regiments were already in front of their encampments, standing in line and awaiting orders as to where to go and what to do. One cannot sufficiently describe how keenly everyone felt this almost first and real alarm. Everyone, thinking nothing other than that the enemy was already advancing and surely not far off, could only conclude that in a minute he would be led to take his place in order of battle and that at last the hour was approaching when he would have to forget himself and everything in the world and prepare for death. The circumstance that the whole army consisted almost entirely of men who had never yet set eyes on the enemy increased in each man his timidity, the inner agitation of his blood and the trembling of his limbs. There is even a simple proverb that one blushes when singing one's first song, and here the matter was somewhat more serious than a song. However, all this did not last long, and it was as though they only wanted to give us a scare; for no sooner had the regiments taken their places in line and formed up than messengers were sent again with orders to dismiss the soldiers to their tents again and henceforth to listen for the signal of three guns.

This calmed us all down again: we concluded that surely something had been garbled and not reported correctly to the field marshal and, dispersing to our tents, took up our pursuits again. Some played cards, some sang, some laughed, some joked, and so on. But scarcely an hour had passed, at about four o'clock in the afternoon, when we heard the real alarm signal. At headquarters, at the field marshal's, the signal gun was fired three times, and this was the sign for the regiments to be led out to the front again. We did so at once and were less afraid than before, thinking that we would be dismissed again. But this day had begun only so that we should be deceived in our expectations; for we soon saw that the matter was gradually becoming serious. The commanders of our brigades came to us and suddenly led the regiments with colours unfurled out of the camp. It was then that many hearts began to tremble and there were pitiful farewells to acquaintances remaining in the camp.

But luckily there was no time to spend long at it: we were led off in great haste and brought out beyond the forest onto the open and wide Eggersdorf field.

But how badly we were mistaken again here! We thought we would go straight out to the enemy and not only see him but at once begin action with him; but instead, on the whole field we did not see or notice a single person, and were extremely surprised at it. Nevertheless, all our regiments that had been led out were put in order and drawn up some two versts from the camp in two lines, between the two villages lying in the middle of this field, in order of battle, and counted off as was proper. But no sooner had this been finished than, without doing anything except burning one village, we were led back to the camp again, and we had marched about and stood for some three hours for nothing, for there was not yet even a promise of the enemy; it was only said that he was beyond the forest lying ahead of us and that he too was supposedly forming up in order of battle; and so not our whole army was led out, but only our vanguard corps and the division of Count Fermor — and this perhaps to show him that we were very careful. But oh, if only we had always been so careful!

Thus this day too ended without any important events, and we, unaccustomed as we were, did not know what it meant that we had been led out. I happened to be among those who went out to the fight, and we, to tell the truth, marched quite boldly and without any cowardice. Impatience was written on everyone's face, and everyone ardently wished to see the enemy as soon as possible and put his musket in order so as to fire at him the more accurately. But however much we looked, and however eager we were to give him a brave reception, he was not there, and we could not see a single person, although the wide field, stretching for several versts, was all visible to us. Returning to the camp, we did not know whether to rejoice or grieve at it. But we had no great reason to lament. To whom is life not dear, and who could be sure that he would come through the battle whole and alive? I alone had reason to be pleased at this return; but why, you will certainly not guess. "Out of cowardice!" you will say. No, truly, not only was I not afraid, but I was even calmer than I myself expected. Here is why: a ridiculous and unexpected mishap had befallen me.

When we stood on the field in order of battle and, waiting for the enemy to come out of the forest, were putting our muskets in order, I too wanted to see whether there was powder in the pan of my musket, for I had loaded it long before.

But what a sheer piece of mischief happened then! I look — and lo, my musket has no cock at all!.. My God, how flustered I was then, and into what confusion I fell! On the one hand, I could not understand where it had gone; on the other, I was vexed that in case of need I would have nothing not only to fire with but even to defend myself with; and on the third hand, and most of all, I was afraid that someone might see it and start laughing. But be that as it may, my cock was gone: the cursed little screw, which, one must suppose, had not been screwed in tightly the day before when the musket was being cleaned, had come loose and vanished together with the cock. And to make matters worse, there was no way to look for it. Far from searching, I was afraid even to tell my best friends about it, but only fumed inwardly and laughed at myself, saying: "A fine warrior I am, truly! And the cursed cock found its time to get lost. Just when it was needed most, the devil carried it off!" But luckily I escaped all trouble: the matter passed without a fight, and no one noticed my cockless musket. We returned safely, and by morning another cock was ready for my musket. This credit I can give to the efficiency of the regimental locksmiths. Truly, within an hour they fitted it with a brand-new one, and I was no longer ashamed to show myself in front of the line, while the lost one I left to lie in peace on the fields of Eggersdorf.

With this I shall end this letter of mine and, assuring you of my friendship, remain, etc.

THE SECOND ALARM

Letter 45

My dear friend. In my last letter I described to you our first preparation for battle, and now I shall describe the second. Do not be troubled by it! Whatever it was like, two whole days had passed in mere preparations for it! It must surely be something extraordinary. And extraordinary it was, my dear friend, as you will see for yourself from the description of it later; but, leaving aside digressions, I shall get down to business.

The night before the eighteenth of August we spent in our former camp safely and in the most desirable calm. All was quiet and peaceful, and no one gave a thought to the enemy. What would happen on the following day nobody knew, and the morning showed us nothing extraordinary.

In the morning it was not the general march that was beaten but reveille, and this already showed us that we would not march that day either, but would stay in the same place.

This quiet and calm lasted until as late as the twelfth hour, and we, thinking that nothing would happen all day, had already settled down to spend it in various amusements, when suddenly an unexpected cannon shot broke our calm and drew our attention. This happened, as I remember now, at the very moment when my companion and I had sat down to dinner; for one must know that not long before this I had become especially friendly with the captain of the twelfth company next to mine, Aleksey Dmitriyevich Velyaminov, a man of the world, very intelligent, exceptionally fond of me, and moreover a fellow countryman, for he was a landowner in the Chern district, where I too had a small village. Being fond of me, he had long been trying to persuade me that we should eat together; and as he had his own cook and dined well, I at last gladly agreed, and from then on, for the whole remainder of this campaign, we lived like brothers and not only ate together but also slept in the same tent. Hardly had my friend and companion and I sat down to dinner when we heard the said shot, and we even said then: "Oh dear! Isn't it an alarm again? They won't even let us have our dinner." But for all that, we were not yet very alarmed by this first signal and went on with our dinner; but no sooner had we taken up our spoons than a second shot followed, and soon after that a third. Then there was no time for long thought: the spoons fell from our hands, and, abandoning our meal, we hurried to dress as quickly as possible, to seize our weapons and to put on our insignia and sashes. Noise and commotion could already be heard throughout the camp. Everywhere there began running, shouting and urging. One man already stood in his place in front of the line, another was running there to take his place, a third was still seizing his weapons and putting on his military gear; another, who had gone off somewhere, was still running headlong, undressed, to his tent, hurrying to dress and to be in time to go and die together with his comrades. The voices and shouts of the commanders and leaders galloping and riding about before the regiments could be heard everywhere and roused courage and valour in the hearts of the soldiers. The earth groaned under the weight of the guns drawn by many horses, and the echo rang through the forest standing opposite us from the shouts of the drivers and the waggoners urging the horses to draw faster the deadly guns prepared for smiting the enemy. In a word, everything was in motion and presented a pleasing spectacle to a soldier's eyes.

No sooner had we come out with the regiments to the front and formed up than we saw our chief commanders riding past our regiments with a great suite.

Nothing could have been more magnificent than the suite of our commander-in-chief. Surrounded by a great multitude of other high and lower commanders, generals and officers, he rode in great pomp to lead the army and to dispose of the destinies of so many thousands of people. A proud and costly horse, adorned with rich trappings, pranced and played with its legs as it carried this military chief. Many other horses under rich caparisons followed him as led horses. Finally, whole crowds of hussars and Chuguyev Cossacks covered this splendid and magnificent procession. They had been appointed bodyguards of our commander and followed him everywhere.

Soon after this our regiments were led with colours unfurled to the same place again where we had gone out the day before; but this time it was not only the first division and our vanguard corps that were led out, but the whole army. We could conclude this because, as our regiment happened to stand in the very narrowest place and passage, all the regiments, both horse and foot, with their colours and guns, had to march past us and pass through this narrow defile onto the wide Eggersdorf field. There they were already drawn up in proper order in two lines in order of battle, and we were led out last of all, for we were assigned to cover the left wing of both lines and were posted across both lines. What a spectacle suddenly opened before us when, having struggled out of the cramped camp, we came out onto a rise from which the whole surrounding field could be seen! A whole half of it, lying towards us and towards the forest, was covered with a multitude of people. The fronts of the two lines were a considerable distance apart and stretched so far in length that one could by no means see their end. Only the colours fluttered and gleamed in their many hues, adorning this beautiful spectacle all the more. The whole space between the two lines was filled with a multitude of people. Just as both lines stood motionless like walls, so, on the contrary, the people between them were full of life. Here one could see nothing but the galloping back and forth of cavalry, commanders, adjutants, orderlies and troops, of cannon with their limbers and ammunition. All the commanders bustled about, trying to arrange and post everything where it was needed and to issue the necessary orders on how to retreat during the battle: everyone undoubtedly expected it.

The day turned out to be the finest imaginable, the weather the most desirable, and the mere glitter of the arms was enough to rouse an eagerness for battle.

Nothing could have been more advantageous or better than our army's position at that time and the disposition of our order, for imagine, my dear friend, that the said Jägersdorf field is not so entirely level that it could be called horizontal: on our side of it there was a slight elevation. This height began at a broad hollow, or dry valley, lying between the two villages, and stretched all the way to that very forest behind which our army's camp stood. It took up a good deal of ground and commanded the whole expanse of the Jägersdorf field. It was on this elevation, or gentle rise, that our army drew up in order of battle, and it had room enough to arrange itself as it wished. Its whole front, or face, was covered by the said dry valley, or small broad hollow, through which ran a little but boggy and miry stream, and its whole back, or rear, by a tall and dense forest, so that there could be no danger whatsoever from behind. With its left wing it rested on one of the above-mentioned villages, which lay in the middle of the field at a very short distance from each other; whether the right wing was covered by anything or not, I could not see. And even had it been covered by nothing in nature, it was covered by a considerable number of horse and foot, together with a whole column of artillery. In a word, the army's position was most desirable, and such that anyone could conclude it had taken up a very advantageous place. But so that you might see this order of battle more clearly, I shall depict it for you in a special drawing. (?)

Having drawn up in this manner at our leisure and arranged whatever was needed, we awaited the enemy fearlessly and expected every minute that he would come out of the forest opposite us and attack us. But we were reckoning without our host. However long we waited, and however much we strained our eyes towards the side from which we expected the enemy, we could not see even a sign of him; and just as fruitless were all our inquiries of those who rode over to us from the right flank. We asked every one of them: "Is the enemy coming? Has he come out of the forest yet? Can he be seen?" — but all answered that he had not, and that they themselves had looked their eyes out.

In a word, all our waiting was in vain. The enemy's commanders were not as foolish as we thought.

They knew well enough their own weakness against us and how great our superiority of force over theirs was, and they were far from intending to attack us, drawn up so advantageously, in broad daylight and with such obvious danger to themselves; rather they were content that we had shown ourselves to them in this way, so that they could see and examine all our strength as on the palm of a hand. Besides, they had no time yet to begin an engagement with us. As we later learned, they had only that very day arrived from Wehlau at the camp they had occupied behind the forest, and had merely sent out to spy on our army. Of this reconnaissance the enemy write in their reports that Lieutenant General Schorlemer was sent out by them with 20 squadrons of hussars and 20 squadrons of dragoons; we, however, saw no such number of troops: we were told afterwards that on that day our camp and army had been reconnoitred only by the Prussian Lieutenant General Count Dohna with a small escort, for he was considered their best general; but to our commanders, or rather to our outlying pickets, it had seemed that this was already the whole army, and that very thing was the cause of our fright and our hasty march out of the camp.

Because of all these circumstances we could not, for all our waiting, see the enemy before us. We had already been standing for more than two hours; the day was already beginning to decline towards evening, and of the enemy army there was not so much as a sight; all that we could hear was a small exchange of fire going on in the distance between our Cossacks and the enemy, at whom he fired from the forest, sometimes with muskets, sometimes with cannon; and these, perhaps, were the men whom we had sent out to scout for the enemy.

At last our commanders saw that we were standing there for nothing and would wait in vain. And so, having fired a few rounds from a heavy gun into the forest and thrown a few bombs from the howitzers there, perhaps at enemy troops who had shown themselves, and having burned a village lying far off in front of the army at the edge of the forest, they dismissed our regiments back to the camp again. We did not know and could not understand what this meant, and how long they would go on leading us out in this way and showing us to the enemy.

It was already almost beginning to grow dark when we returned to our tents, and then for the first time we heard the evening signal gun in the enemy camp for the beating of the tattoo; and since it was heard quite loudly, we could conclude that the enemy camp was now not far from ours, and a little later we heard quite distinctly the tattoo being beaten there too.

I cannot describe adequately with what varied feelings of the soul we listened to that sound of the enemy drums; never before had it fallen to us to hear it.

Each of us strained his ears with great curiosity to catch it, and since so sure and plain a proof of the nearness of the enemy army no longer allowed us any doubt that on the following day a battle with him would ensue, many listened to the beating of this tattoo, and soon afterwards of our own, with particular pleasure and without any dismay, rejoicing that they would soon have to do with the enemy and, with that, a fine opportunity to show their bravery and courage; others, on the contrary, were occupied at that time with different thoughts:

"Well, brothers!" some said then, "it is plain now from everything that it is coming to a fight — tomorrow we shall have one, beyond doubt! Whom will God help to overcome his foe? Though we flatter ourselves with the hope that we shall beat the Prussians, the world has seen such examples, and not rarely, of small armies routing large ones. God forbid that such a misfortune should befall us!" — "Yes!" others took up, "all that is possible; but however it turns out and whomever God helps, this much is certain: neither side will be without losses. Many will depart for the other world on this occasion. And who, who is it whom fate has destined to lay down his head here!" — "Yes!" others continued, "many of us will surely not see the sun set again, and are now hearing the evening tattoo beaten for the last time! Tomorrow, about this time, they will be lying lifeless, their blood already cold! But who, who must be among them? — All this is hidden from us by an impenetrable veil, and all of it is a terrible uncertainty!" — "Yes!" others answered, "nor is it known who will chance to be crippled for ever, and lose either an arm or a leg, or be so shot through and wounded that he will go through life a cripple and a wreck. Happy will he be who gets off from all this lucky and stays both alive and wholly unhurt." — In this and similar fashion many talked among themselves then, and everyone's unfamiliarity with fire and the fact that they had never yet been in battle produced such feelings and thoughts in many. But there were also many who did not in the least regard all the dangers ahead, but with manly spirit, forgetting everything, prepared for the battle as for some merry feast.

No sooner had the tattoo been beaten among us and dusk fallen than there came on such a thick fog, or rather smoke, as I had never seen in my life.

All at once it grew so dark that, despite the bright summer evening, one could not see anything even ten sazhens away. We marvelled at this strange meteor, all the more so since we had never seen such fogs there before. This fog, however, did not last long; within an hour it dispersed again and it grew light.

Then an order was given throughout the army that all the soldiers be led out to the front and that all regiments spend the night under arms, having first supplied themselves with provisions for three days. This seemed strange to us, and we could not understand what it meant. Everyone simply concluded that we would no doubt have to march the next morning, and so each of us thought about how to lay in some food in light marching fashion. Fortunately, we had no shortage of victuals at the time. A pair of geese was roasted at once and a ham boiled. My bag was stuffed full, and we hoped that all this would last us even five days. Having prepared ourselves in this way, we spent the night under arms. With this I shall end my letter, telling you that I remain, etc.

THE ALARM

Letter 46

My dear friend!

I have now reached that point in time which was decisive for our whole campaign of that year, namely the 19th of August, a day made famous and memorable by the battle fought on it. For me it was worthy of special note in that it was the only one of its kind that has happened in my life to this day, the only such occasion it has been my lot to see. And so I should like, my dear friend, to describe this battle to you as exactly as possible; but I do not trust that my powers will be equal to it.

But before I begin to describe the battle itself, I must explain to you the reason for the order given in the army on the eve of that day, which seemed so incomprehensible to us. Our commanders, on returning to the camp with the regiments, had assembled a council of war and deliberated what to do. All agreed unanimously that the enemy, to all appearances, did not wish to give battle and was afraid to show himself in the field, and was only trying to bar our way to a further advance by occupying the narrowest defile, and by all this to prevent us from going round him and marching straight with the army to Königsberg. Others, on the contrary, surmised and said that the enemy was perhaps expecting an attack from us. But all such judgements were unfounded, as will appear from what followed.

Nevertheless, our commanders, supposing all this at the time, concluded that nothing else remained but for us to go to meet him and force him to give battle.

But here the question arose: where, and by what places, were we to go to him? To go straight across the Jägersdorf field by the shortest way was a sheer impossibility: he stood with his army behind a large, dense forest, completely covered by it, and through this forest there was no passage other than a single narrow and cramped road, and even that was already occupied by Prussian troops; consequently, there was no way at all to attack there, and to go round the said forest was very far. But since nothing else remained and they wanted to make haste, it was decided to go round that farther forest, behind which the enemy stood, by the left side, and thereby turn the enemy to face us. But since this flanking march could not be made in less than several days, and moreover had to be made along bad roads and through narrow passes, it was thought best to leave the heavy baggage train here on the spot and to take along only the light and indispensable part, and to get ready as lightly as possible. Finally it was resolved not to delay this undertaking, so as not to give the enemy time to occupy the last passes as well, and for this the said 19th of August was appointed, with the intention of setting out on the march at daybreak; and for that very reason the order was given to take provisions for three days, to be fully ready for the march and to spend the night under arms before the front.

Such were the arrangements on our side. But fate was pleased to have it entirely otherwise. Our plans and intentions were brought to nothing and something quite different came about, for while we were thinking and conferring in this way about the means by which to force the cowardly enemy to battle, he, on the contrary, had never so much as heard of cowardice. He was hardly less bold than we, and resolved, losing no time, to attack us himself. The Prussians had long been famed for knowing how to make use of times and opportunities, and by this very art they had often routed great armies with small numbers. This cunning they meant to employ on this occasion too, and to make up for the shortage of their forces with nimbleness and daring. They knew well enough in what a cramped, though very advantageous, place our army stood, and perhaps they were not unaware of the disorder in which our generals and commanders then found themselves. Perhaps they had somehow learned of our very intention to go round and set out on the march, and therefore, without thinking long, they resolved to make use of this opportunity and fall upon us completely unawares, at the very moment when the army had only just started to move, so as to take advantage of our confusion and, without letting us out of our burrow, to strangle us like chickens. This intention they carried out with fairly good success, as will appear from what followed.

Thus the nets were being woven for us, while we, knowing nothing at all, slept and rested peacefully. At last the crimson dawn began little by little to light up the horizon and to herald a most beautiful day for us.

The heavy fog that had come on again towards morning began to disperse, and the air was becoming fine and transparent; the sun, having run out from behind the hills, had already lit up our whole horizon, when a loud signal gun, cutting short our sweet sleep, set the whole army in motion. We listened with curious ears to hear what would be beaten: reveille or the general march; and having heard the latter, we at once began to hurry and prepare for the march. A little later "to the wagons" was beaten, whereupon all the tents were at once struck, the horses harnessed to the carts, and the baggage trains, without the least delay, set off on their way as usual. Now recall, my dear friend, one circumstance I told you of: that the way out of the place where the army was encamped lay only through that one narrow gap where our vanguard corps and the second division stood; and since our march too was to go in that direction, naturally the baggage trains of the whole army, setting off, piled up at this spot and produced the very greatest crush. To make matters worse, in front of this narrow defile there was a boggy and muddy streambed, namely that very one which, cutting across the Jägersdorf field and passing between the two villages of Jägersdorf, ran on to fall into the steep ravine lying behind the army. The leading wagons had to get across this streambed, and since, naturally, they were somewhat held up by it, the crush and confusion among those behind grew still greater. All the carts pressed against one another, and each tried to move forward and get ahead of the others. But since the front ones were forced to stop, such a crush arose that a man on foot could make his way between the carts and wagons only with great difficulty. Everything was mixed up here: the artillery with its ammunition boxes and charges, the regimental trains, the generals' carriages, and the officers' and soldiers' carts, which was the chief cause of the confusion. The regiments themselves had already been moved from their places and were squeezed in clusters among the baggage at various spots, all of which increased still further the crush and confusion that always arise anyway when an army marches out of camp.

At this very time, at the very moment when the greatest confusion was going on, and the troops and baggage were mixed up in the manner described above, and the whole narrow gap through which the main army had to come out was so packed with the latter that there was no getting through either on foot or on horseback — at this very time, I say, a quiet rumour suddenly began at first to spread through all the troops and baggage that the enemy was advancing and was already near; but it at once turned into a general uproar, and everywhere the cry could already be heard — "The enemy! The enemy!" and the assurance that he was already very close; but no one knew for certain. One said that he had appeared on the field, another maintained that he had already passed the villages; a third said that he was already in the very baggage train, and so on.

Everyone interpreted it as he pleased and, to frighten others, added whatever he liked; and another did not know what to conclude and which rumour to consider the most accurate.

But we did not remain long in this uncertainty. Within some three minutes we received good confirmation of it. At the front of this whole narrow place, to the right, where it joined the Jägersdorf field, the Second Moscow Regiment was encamped, occupying the whole entrance to the said field; and since it covered our whole former camp, a small column of artillery had been attached to it for the better strengthening and covering of this place and posted in front of it against any eventuality. This regiment was the first to catch sight of the enemy all of a sudden, and, what was most astonishing of all, already right in front of it.

I do not know, nor did any of us know then — so you judge and work it out — how it came about that we, despite all our earlier caution and all the great multitude of our light troops guarding the army, did not see the enemy pass through his distant forest, come out onto the field and cross the whole broad Jägersdorf field, some four versts across, and how it came about that we did not see him until he was almost on our necks. It was truly a strange and incomprehensible business! When we were some two hundred versts from the enemy, we took the very greatest precautions, as though the enemy were two or three versts away, and wore us all out on picket duty; but when the enemy really was so close, our eyes were as if blindfolded, and, as the saying goes, "the barn burned down before our very eyes and we never saw it." In a word, this business was incomprehensible, and I do not assert it, and cannot assert it, but will only say that afterwards a rumour went round the army that our commanders had been informed more than once, even before daylight and while the army was still at rest, that the enemy had come out onto the field and was moving towards us, but that they supposedly would not believe it, considering it idle talk and an impossible thing. And particularly at the wise urging of the field marshal's counsellor and assistant, the above-mentioned General Lieven. But whether this was really so, I truly do not know, for so small a person as I was could not know it.

But be that as it may, the enemy caught us so unawares that he could not have asked or wished for better. The said Second Moscow Regiment did not see him until he was already at such a distance that the guns could reach him, and therefore that very moment our battery standing in front of it began a cannonade against the enemy, which confirmed to us that the rumour about the enemy was true and that he was already at close range.

My God! What confusion arose then throughout our army and baggage! What wailing went up, what noise, and what galloping and what disorder began!

In one place the cry could be heard: "Here! Here! The artillery!"; in another they shouted: "The cavalry, send the cavalry here, quickly!" Elsewhere they shouted: "Baggage away! Away! Back! Back! Back!" In a word, the whole air was filled with the shouting of messengers and commanders, and still more of the waggoners and drivers of the carts. These knew nothing but to shout "Gee! Gee! Gee!" and to whip on the horses hauling all manner of loads. In short, there had been a fine confusion even before, but with such an unexpected alarm it became quite indescribable. All the people were thrown into confusion and did not know what to do or undertake. Our commanders and leaders themselves lost all order of reasoning and dashed about everywhere beside themselves, not knowing what to do or undertake. Such an occasion was the first even for them, and, moreover, unfortunately so unexpected and confused, while they were all men still unaccustomed to it. Never had I seen them in such disorder as at that time. One galloped about beside himself and, with a deathly pale face, shouted and gave orders, not knowing what himself; another drove the baggage away himself, cursing and beating the drivers; a third, seizing a gun, galloped off with it himself as fast as the horse could go. Another, catching up some regiment or other, forced his way with it through the baggage, climbing over carts and wagons, leading it he himself knew not where. In a word, everything was in the very greatest confusion and disorder, and how could it be otherwise, when they did not know whether to form the army in order or to defend themselves against the enemy already advancing: so close was he to us by then.

In such circumstances, could one expect that our army might be drawn up in a proper order of battle and put up a proper resistance to the enemy? Almost all the regiments, or the greater part of them, were behind the forest and behind the baggage, and could in no way force their way through it, while to pass through the forest was also impossible because of its density. Thus they were forced to stand with folded arms and wait until a road was cleared for them. But this could not be done because of the confusion at the time and the narrowness of the place. Only the second division, under the command of the virtuous General-in-Chief Lopukhin, since it was encamped in the very gap and nearest of all to the field, could move to some extent; but even its regiments could not possibly advance straight ahead, and were forced to go in files, and thus, coming out of the gap to the right, to string out along the very edge of the forest, for to move farther out into the open field was already impossible because of the nearness of the enemy.

Are armies ever drawn up in order of battle like this? But what will necessity not do! We would have been glad if even in this way we had managed to get clear of the forest and the baggage. But we were soon deprived even of this last means.

Now I shall tell you, my dear friend, where exactly I found myself in this confusion, and what happened to me. Our regiment, as I told you before, was in the vanguard, or advance, corps, with several other regiments as undermanned as ours. Since we stood almost at the very front and were assigned to cover the baggage during the march, we were set in motion before all the other regiments, and were then right by that streambed, surrounded on all sides by a mass of baggage, when the above-mentioned cannon fire began from our side and the enemy's, and some of the enemy cannonballs began to whizz and whistle over the baggage and to smash and mangle everything that came in their way. This phenomenon was still new to us and never seen before. Hearing it, we stopped and awaited orders as to where we would be told to go: forward along the road, or to the right, to the place where the firing was already going on. A little later some general or other, I do not remember who, galloped up to us and, taking us along, led us across the stream and forward through all the baggage, making us force our way through it by every means and, where that was impossible, climb over the wagons and carts.

Now I shall pause for a minute and say that, since during this progress we could see nothing ahead because of the baggage, and were sure that on getting clear of it we would run straight into the enemy standing ready and would at once enter into a bloody battle with him, the minutes during which we marched in the said manner and forced our way through the baggage were the most critical for us. The certainty of the enemy's nearness, the sound of cannon fire heard already close by, and the enemy cannonballs already flying over the baggage left us no doubt that within a few minutes we too would begin to fire and fight the enemy; and our inexperience in such matters, and the thought that the scythe of death was already spread over everyone and ready to strike down many, and that those minutes were already the last of their lives for many — threw the whole soul into such disarray and all thoughts into such turmoil and confusion that the state of mind at that time cannot possibly be depicted in words, for at that moment not one but many passions and inclinations were at work in it at once, and, to tell the truth, it is impossible to say whether the fear natural to all men held sway over all the powers of the soul then, or vexation and indignation at the disorder and confusion visible everywhere, and the zeal and desire produced by that very thing to go forward the sooner and beat back the enemy — yet one cannot but confess that everyone's heart was then not in its place, but trembled quite noticeably, with a sinking feeling coming and going every moment.

Yet in testimony to the truth it must also be said that all this first terror, truly impossible to put into words, we felt only from the very beginning and only until we came out onto the field and saw the enemy.

After that, I do not know whether because a man is then, as it were, in despair and petrified, or because he is not alone but with a multitude of others, he does not feel anything like the fear and terror that he ought by nature to feel given the real danger and gravity of the occasion, but becomes much more cheerful and calm in spirit.

But I have strayed from the order of my narrative; now, returning to it, I shall say that, having forced our way through the baggage and come out into the open, we saw the other regiments of our vanguard corps forming into one line on our right hand. We were ordered to close up to them, and the remaining regiments of our corps began to close up to us. In this way we ended up in quite a different place from where we had happened to stand the day before. And by good fortune it so fell out that this place was the most beautiful and, what was better still, the very safest; on the very spot where our regiment happened to stand there was a small hill or rise from which the whole expanse of the Jägersdorf field could be seen. No sooner had we climbed onto it and looked around than the whole Prussian army appeared before us as on the palm of a hand. We saw that it was almost on the very spot where we had been drawn up the day before, and its first line stood exactly where our first line had stood, and the second opposite the village of Klein-Jägersdorf, and both its lines had their ends towards the place where we stood, so that we could see along both of them. To our greater satisfaction we could also see the whole place where our army was forming, for we happened to stand with our whole corps on its left wing, or, better said, on the flank of both armies. We ourselves were covered against attack by a small marsh overgrown with low but extraordinarily dense brushwood, stretching from the village of Klein-Jägersdorf for some distance to the left. Through this brushwood we could see everything from our rise, while the enemy could not possibly get through the brushwood to us. Thus we stood at our ease and prepared merely to be spectators of the whole theatre of the bloody battle that was then beginning.

It began early in the eighth hour, when the sun was already fairly high and, in the calm weather, made with its radiance a most beautiful day. The first fire was opened from the enemy's side, and all this was visible to us.

The Prussians advanced in the most courageous and orderly fashion to attack our army, which was stringing out along the forest, and, having come within range, fired a regular volley at our men. This was the first time that I had seen enemy fire directed at my own countrymen.

Our hearts trembled then, and we were all astonished to see that not a single musket shot was fired in reply from our side, just as though they had killed every last man with their volley. The Prussians, having fired their volley, kept advancing without stopping and, having loaded their muskets on the march and come still closer to our men, fired another regular volley at them with their whole first line. Then we were still more astonished and did not know what to make of it, seeing that not a single musket shot was fired in reply from our side to this volley either. — "Lord, have mercy! What is this?" we said, gathering together and watching this spectacle from our distant hill. "Are our men still alive, and what are they doing? Can it be that no one is left alive?" Some faint-hearted ones were already concluding in earnest that all our men had been killed. "How could anyone survive," they said, "two such fierce volleys at such close range?" But our eyes proved the contrary. As soon as the smoke had cleared a little, we could still plainly see our front through the Prussians; but why there should be such silence, no one could divine. Some superstitious old men were already wondering whether our soldiers' muskets had been bewitched; but this opinion was laughed to scorn by all of us, for it was utterly absurd. Continuing to watch, we saw that the Prussians kept advancing after this volley too, loading their muskets on the march, and, having loaded them and come much closer still, fired a third most terrible and most orderly volley at our men. — "Well!" we cried then, "now, surely, all our men really have been killed!" But no sooner had we said this than, to everyone's general delight, we saw that not all our men had been killed yet, but that many were still left alive. For no sooner had the enemy fired the third volley than cannon and musket fire blazed up from our side too, and though not in volleys and without order, it was much stronger than the enemy's. From that moment the Prussians too stopped firing in volleys. The fire on both sides became continuous, without a minute's pause, and we could no longer distinguish the enemy's firing from ours. Only the cannon shots were distinguishable, and especially those of our secret Shuvalov howitzers, which, by their peculiar sound and thick black smoke, we could plainly see and tell apart from the rest of the cannon fire, which, like the musketry, became most fierce and continuous on both sides.

Now imagine for yourself, my dear friend, what it was like for us to watch this bloody spectacle, for I am not able to describe with my pen the emotions of the soul at that time.

All of us, that is, the staff officers and officers, gathered in clusters, watched this slaughter and could only lament and reason about it, for we ourselves could do nothing.

Though the whole course of events was visible to us, we stood so far off that not only our muskets but even our regimental guns could not reach the enemy. And so we were forced merely to watch with folded arms and, caught between fear and hope, to await the decisive moment. But soon we were deprived even of the pleasure of seeing the whole course of events; from the incessant firing the smoke grew so thick that we could no longer see either of the fighting armies, and only the crackle of musketry and the sound of cannon fire could be heard. Only the very ends of the fighting lines, or fronts, were somewhat visible to us, and they presented a most moving spectacle. The two fronts were at a very short distance from each other and stood in incessant fire. Ours stood unshaken throughout the whole battle, and the first rank, once it had knelt down, stayed kneeling. The Prussian front, on the other hand, seemed to be in constant motion: now it would come a few paces closer, now fall back again, yet it fought with no less courage and steadfastness than ours, and this went on without interruption.

It was at this time that we had the opportunity to look our fill at everything that happens on such occasions, and can one describe that pitiful spectacle? Behind both fronts a multitude of people could be seen presenting various scenes: one galloped on horseback, carrying, no doubt, some important order, but, shot through, flew headlong from it to the ground; another ran out of the front and, weakened by wounds, could no longer keep on his feet, but fell; there they were dragging a dead commander, elsewhere leading a wounded man by the arms; suddenly whole lanes would open in the fronts, and suddenly they would be closed up again; those killed one by one in the front could not be seen as plainly as the rest because of the smoke. But how to depict the bustle and turmoil of the others who were behind the front? In what varied motion they could be seen: many rode about on horseback, urging on the soldiers and carrying the necessary orders to them; others galloped along the front from behind; still others from the front to the rear. In one place they were leading reinforcements by platoons, there they were dragging a gun, elsewhere carrying a cartridge box on their backs; in another place horses had been killed under them and had to be disentangled and unharnessed; elsewhere a horse that had lost its rider was running loose; elsewhere a rider flew off a horse that had been killed, and so on.

In a word, everything presented a lamentable spectacle, touching to a tender heart, and we, seeing all this, could not look at it enough, so curious and striking was it for us.

— It was all very well for you to watch, you will say, my dear friend, when the matter did not reach you yourselves, and you happened to stand in so blessed a place, one in which anyone would gladly agree to stand during a battle. Very well indeed! I answer, and we could be well content with our lot. I will add that, besides, we even had a kind of military entertainment, namely: right in front of our regiment, or rather, right in front of my own company, on the very top of the hill on which we stood, a whole column of our artillery happened to be posted, consisting of more than twenty heavy guns, howitzers and unicorns. This battery, which covered our corps, was not idle throughout the whole battle. Time and again it fired at the enemy's second line and threw bombs from the howitzers both at it and at the two villages occupied by the Prussians, and we could not get enough of the entertainment of watching the good effect of the cannonballs and bombs sent at the enemy. Many cannonballs, striking right along the front of the enemy's second line, made huge lanes in it, just as the bombs caused great confusion everywhere. We at once turned both villages into fire and flame and thereby drove out the enemy who had settled in them. But no bomb amused us so much as one fired from a howitzer. We saw that around a willow standing between the two villages a large number of Prussian officers from their second line had gathered to watch, just as we were, the course of the battle. We felt like giving these spectators a fright, and asked the artillery officer to try to land a bomb in their circle. He fulfilled our wish, and the shot was so successful that the bomb landed right under the willow and burst a sazhen short of the ground. What alarm it caused among these gentlemen, the Prussian commanders! They all scattered; but three were obliged to remain there for ever.

There you are, my dear friend: was it not sheer idleness for us to amuse ourselves in this way at a time when others were perishing and dying? But what else were we to do? But wait, perhaps our turn too will soon come. I have not told everything yet.

The Prussians, perhaps tired of suffering such great losses from our battery, took it into their heads to bring up several heavy guns against us too and to silence our toys, but, unfortunately for them, they had no very good success in this.

Several heavy guns they got stuck in the marsh and could not pull out, and even those they did bring up and set in position somehow could not harm us; whether the reason was that they had to fire somewhat uphill, or that the distance was too great for them, be that as it may, their cannonballs did us no harm. Some of them flew over above the front, and we heard only their sound; but most of them fell far short of the place where we stood, so that we merely laughed at this vain effort of our enemies.

But all these jokes very nearly turned serious for us. Watching, in the manner described above, both the course of the battle and the enemy standing opposite us behind the villages, we did not see what was going on on our left wing, which was hidden from us by the rise, when suddenly a crackle of musket fire broke out in another regiment standing next to us on the left. — "Why, what is this?" we said with a start. "Can the enemy be here already?" And we were puzzled, not understanding where he could have come from, since we could see almost the whole field and had noticed no attack against ourselves, and because of the above-mentioned marsh we even considered it impossible. Nevertheless, before we had time to collect our thoughts, they were already shouting to us to turn our front about. This seemed to us stranger still: we turned about, but saw no one before us except our cavalry, which was drawn up behind us at various places. — "Are we to fire at our own men, or what?" we said, laughing. Yet we waited impatiently for what would happen. On our left, where the fire had broken out, a tremendous noise and firing could be heard, and no less great a commotion arose on the battery standing in front of our regiment. Here a cry went up: "This way! This way! Turn them!... Canister! Canister!" And no sooner had all the guns been turned to the left than they, and the unicorns that were there, all fired a most terrible salvo and produced the fiercest fire. Though we could not see at all, because of the rise, at whom they were firing, we could only conclude that the enemy was near. And it was then, it must be confessed, that our spirits began to be somewhat alarmed; the noise everywhere, the varied shouting and wailing, the sound of cannon and musket fire, the galloping of commanders and the repeated orders to everyone to be ready, made us think that our turn too had come to fight and, like the others, to die, and the approach of such terrible minutes naturally produced a certain inner trembling in our hearts.

But since my letter is already long, and there is still much to tell about this battle, I shall put off the rest until the next one and end this one here, telling you that I remain, etc.

THE BATTLE

Letter 47

My dear friend! As you begin to read this letter, do not you too be deceived in your expectation, as we were deceived in ours at the point in time at which I ended my preceding letter. We thought then without any doubt that in a minute we would come to grips with the enemy and have a bloody affair; but in this we were mistaken; something quite different followed, something as little expected by us then as, no doubt, by you now, namely that all the above-mentioned and so terrible noise, wailing and sound of firing, which had alarmed us so much, suddenly vanished and, contrary to all hope and expectation, died down completely. You will be surprised at this, but we were no less surprised when, after a few minutes had passed, the musket fire suddenly died down, and a little later the guns too stopped firing, and they began to set them up and turn them back as before. In a word, the noise itself began little by little to subside, and we were ordered to turn about again. We marvelled at all this beyond words and, not understanding what it could mean, asked those riding from the left flank, who had seen everything that happened, about the reason, and with difficulty could learn the following:

On the extreme left flank of our corps stood our Don Cossacks. From the very beginning of the battle they had galloped off to attack the enemy cavalry standing behind the marsh.

We had seen this at the time, and had even been vexed, watching the poor success of these worthless warriors. They had made a very brilliant beginning. Though their attack took place more than a verst away from us, we could plainly hear them whoop "Gee! Gee!" and gallop headlong at the Prussians. At first we thought they would spear them all with their lances, but soon saw the contrary. Their bravery consisted only in whooping and urging themselves on with their rifles, for since the Prussians stood motionless and prepared to receive them in manly fashion, the Cossacks, seeing that this was not to their liking, turned back that very moment and took to their heels. All this we could see; but what happened after that we did not see, because the Cossacks, galloping round the marsh, rode out of our sight. Then we learned that the Prussian cuirassiers and dragoons had themselves galloped after them and, going round the marsh, had driven them like sheep towards our front. The Cossacks had nowhere to go. They galloped headlong straight at the front of our left wing, while the Prussian cavalry followed hard on their heels and cut them down mercilessly. Our infantry, seeing the Cossacks galloping straight at it and perishing, thought it necessary to part somewhat and let them through, so that they could find safety behind the front. But this very nearly played a nasty trick on us. The Prussian cavalry, pursuing them squadron by squadron in the best order, flowed like some swift river and broke straight into our infantry after the Cossacks. This was the very reason why musket fire was opened on them from that regiment; but it was hard for it to resist and to hold back the terrible onrush of this cavalry. The leading squadron had already ridden in good order behind our front after the Cossacks and, scattering, was cutting down everyone who was behind the front. It was for this very reason that our front had to be turned about. But all this would not have helped, and the Prussians, riding into our flank with all their cavalry, would have crushed us all to a man and completed the victory that was already inclining to their side, had not one circumstance checked their whole onrush and given all the circumstances a different aspect. The battery I mentioned above fortunately managed to turn its guns in good time, and the canister salvo it fired had the most desirable success, for since it happened to fire across the Prussian squadrons galloping one after another, it tore out almost a whole squadron and thereby broke their onrush, and not only stopped those galloping but forced them to turn back headlong. Those, however, who had galloped in behind our front were caught like a mouse in a trap. The infantry at once closed up again, and they were all forced to perish in the most pitiful manner.

Our cavalry met them there and cut down every last man. Thus this affair ended in the most desirable manner.

Such were the events on our left wing. Now let us turn, my dear friend, to the centre and see what was happening to those whom we left a while ago fighting each other. Here, in fairness, was the main affair and the hottest fighting. However, what exactly went on here, as well as on the right flank, we ourselves could not see because of the distance and the smoke. I mentioned above that only the ends of the two fronts were visible to us, and as far as they are concerned, they stood motionless and exchanged fire for exactly two and a half hours, as if rooted to the ground, of which we were eyewitnesses.

That is all that I could see myself during the course of the battle. — Now I shall describe to you what I could not see and what we learned afterwards.

The enemy directed his main attack at two places, namely: against both gaps, or entrances, into our strong camp. Evidently he wanted to catch us still in the camp and not let a single man out onto the field, which can be concluded chiefly from the fact that on dead Prussian officers a disposition and orders were afterwards found, prescribing that the soldiers should cut down our chevaux-de-frise. Accordingly, his attack was directed both at the main entrance and at our right wing, where, as I mentioned before, there was also a small gap. Fortunately our men had managed to occupy this latter place in good time. The brave Colonel Yazykov with his First Grenadier Regiment took up this place and withstood all the fiercest enemy assaults in the most courageous manner. Fortunately there were old ditches and channels here, which served our men almost as an entrenchment and were of great help. In a word, however hard the enemy strove, and however much he tried to break through this place and dislodge our men, he had no success. Our men held out to the very end of the battle and, though they suffered no small losses, did not lose this place, so important for the enemy.

But our men fought with less success on the left flank, or rather in the centre, against which the enemy directed his main attack.

I have already mentioned above that the enemy had crept up on us so imperceptibly that our men had no time to lead out the regiments in proper order and form a line against him, but were forced, somehow forcing their way through the crush of the baggage, to go in files and somehow form and string out a front to the right along the forest. In a word, our men were still stringing out and trying to extend as far as possible, so that the greatest number of regiments could find room and take up a defensive position, when the enemy, having come quite close, fired the said first volley at them; the reason it was not answered from our side was that our men were moving and stringing out in files and, seeing that the enemy bullets were not yet harming us, did not think it necessary to stop and turn their front towards them, but since every minute was precious to us, tried only to extend as far as possible. The same thing happened at the second enemy volley, which, though it wounded a few of our men, still, since what mattered most to us was to extend the front farther, we did not answer that one either and kept on stringing out. But when the enemy had fired a volley for the third time, it was no longer possible to go on and endure it. Their bullets were now hitting our men much more, and so our men were forced to stop and show them their face, and also show that we too had muskets and bullets no worse than theirs; and it was then that on both sides that inextinguishable fire began which I have mentioned above.

Now I must tell you, my dear friend, that this fire, though most fierce on both sides, was not with equal advantages. The enemy had incomparably more advantages than our men. Their attack was conducted in proper order, with the best regiments and men, and according to a disposition made beforehand and correctly observed. Their artillery operated as it should, and their whole rear was open and supported by the second line and reserves, from which nothing hindered them from making good every loss in the first, fighting line that very moment and filling it with new and fresh men, and in the same way they had every desired facility to supply the fighting men with the necessary ammunition and powder. As for our men, they unfortunately had none of these advantages, for, firstly, no disposition had been made beforehand, nor was there time to make one, and God himself directed and ordered everything. Secondly, there were far fewer men on our side than on the enemy's.

On their side a whole line was fighting, while on ours barely eleven regiments could string out, and these had to answer for everything.

To make matters worse, even these few men were bound hand and foot; for, firstly, they had no proper artillery with them except a small number of regimental guns and Shuvalov howitzers. Of these very pieces, on which the whole army placed its greatest hope, there were no more than three or four in the battle, and what could be done with them when the greater half of their ammunition boxes and charges could not be brought past the forest? Secondly, they were pressed right up against the forest, so that they had no room at all behind them. Thirdly, there was nowhere to get help or fresh men to replace the killed; the greater part of the army, though not in action, stood behind the forest, in places from which it was impossible to get to them. The most necessary cartridges were nowhere to be had when they were needed. In such prejudicial and confused circumstances, what else could one expect but misfortune! Alas! It was indeed already beginning and would certainly have come about and been completed, had not God himself been pleased to show us His mercy openly and to wrest the victory from the hands of the enemy. Our brave regiments at first stood firm, like an insuperable wall; they returned the enemy's fire with all their strength and for two whole hours held back his insolence and onrush. But what were they to do in the end, when most of them had been killed and wounded? The ranks had already grown too thin, and there was no one to fill them. They had lost almost all their officers; and, worst of all, they finally had no more powder, the one and last means of defence. Finding themselves in this extremity, they drew back somewhat closer to the forest, but thereby made matters even worse. The enemy, seeing this and taking it for a retreat, rushed at them with the very greatest ardour and trampled them completely into the mud. The whole edge of the forest was then filled with the groans and cries of the wounded and dying, and stained with the blood of the slain. There was no longer any possibility for the commanders and leaders to help in any way. The virtuous and truly zealous General-in-Chief Vasily Abramovich Lopukhin, who unfortunately was the commander of this division, however much he strained his powers, rousing and exhorting the soldiers to brave defence, was no longer able to render the least assistance. He himself, wounded with many wounds and covered in blood, was already being dragged off into captivity by Prussian grenadiers, who had torn his order ribbon from him, and they would surely have led him away had not a few of our grenadiers seen this: these, even though they themselves were perishing, resolved to save the general they loved.

Nothing could check their impetuosity. Like lions they tore him from the jaws of serpents, but alas! barely still breathing.

In such circumstances you can easily conclude that our ruin hung, as it were, by a thread. The Prussians had already completely crushed our whole front and in some places had even broken into the baggage itself. Here the most terrible confusion and pandemonium then arose. Everyone shouted: "Away! Away! Back, back with the baggage!" But that they had nowhere to go, nobody remembered. On one side a very steep ravine, and on the other a river barred the way in every direction. God knows where the army itself could have retreated to, and that the baggage would certainly all have been lost, there is not the least doubt. In a word, the enemy had already half won the victory, and had it gone on even a little longer, we would have been routed completely, to our unspeakable shame.

Now, I hope, you are impatient to know by what miraculous means we not only saved ourselves but even won the victory? If one judges rightly, we ourselves hardly knew: God himself wished to save us. It all came down to this: our regiments standing behind the forest, tired of standing idle while their brethren and comrades were perishing, and hearing of the swift danger that threatened them, took it into their heads to go, or perhaps were sent, and to force their way somehow through the forest and rescue their kinsmen. True, their passage was very difficult: the density of the forest was so great that even a single man could get through only with difficulty. Yet nothing could stop their zeal and ardour. Two regiments, the Third Grenadier and the Novgorod, abandoning their guns, abandoning also their cartridge boxes, seeing that these only held them up and could not be got through, rushed on alone and began to push their way through the densest forest towards the voices of the perishing and those crying out. And fortunately they managed to come out at the most needed place, namely the one where the Narva and Second Grenadier regiments had already been almost entirely shattered and where the danger was greater than elsewhere. Their arrival was most timely. The said shattered regiments were already fighting hand to hand, man by man, and would not yield to the enemy until the very last drop of their blood had been shed. Nothing could be more glorious than the bravery shown then by the soldiers who made up the broken remnants of the said unfortunate regiments.

One, having lost an arm, still held his sword in the other and defended himself against the enemies advancing on him and hacking at him.

Another, all but legless, wounded all over and covered in blood, leaning against a tree, was still beating off the foes who were trying to destroy him. A third roared like a lion in the midst of a crowd of enemies surrounding him and cleared himself a path with his sword, unwilling to ask for quarter and mercy, though blood was streaming down his face. A fourth was snatching the weapons from those who, having disarmed him, were dragging him into captivity, and was trying to kill them with their own weapons. A fifth, forgetting that he was alone, hurled himself with his bayonet into a crowd of enemies, thinking to run them all through. A sixth, having neither powder nor bullets, was tearing the pouches off his dead foes and searching them for the wretched lead, thinking to shoot at them with their own bullets. In a word, everything was shown here that could be demanded of brave and fearless soldiers.

At this very last extremity the said two regiments, hurrying to their aid, appeared to them in the forest. It is impossible to describe the joy with which the fighting men watched this help coming to them, and with what rapture they cried out to them, urging them to hurry. Then everything that had been before changed here. These fresh regiments did not delay long, but, having fired a volley and raised a war cry, rushed straight at the enemy with the bayonet, and this decided our fate and brought about the desired change. The enemy wavered, fell back somewhat, wanted to form up better, but there was no longer any time. Our men were on their necks and did not give them a minute's respite. Then the former Prussian bravery turned into cowardice, and at this place, without delaying long, they turned back and began to seek safety in retreat. This frightened the rest of their troops and encouraged ours. Everywhere they began little by little to waver, while on our side the fire grew stronger than before. In a word, not a quarter of an hour had passed before the Prussians everywhere had at first begun to retreat in good order, but then, like cattle, fled without any order or formation.

Of all the above-mentioned events we could see nothing from afar and through the smoke; however, watching without taking our eyes off the very end of their right flank, we could plainly see it begin to waver and lose its former position. It was the last to begin retreating, and in other places the enemy had long since been fleeing, while it still stood and kept up its fire. But seeing its comrades fleeing, it too did not wish to delay long. What a pleasant and delightful spectacle for a soldier presented itself then! First their front moved back some five paces, then still more, then farther still, and moved faster and faster. We could see all this, and, caught between fear and hope, we would not believe our eyes. "Surely they are retreating?" we said to one another. "Oh, God grant that our men have driven them off!" But soon our joy was complete. We saw their whole front turned to complete flight and all cried out: "Glory to God, glory to God! Ours have won, ours have won!" and clapped our hands.

Then in a single instant joy spread through our whole army, and it seemed to be written in the eyes of every soldier.

Everyone hastened to tell another of his good fortune, even though the other had seen the same himself, and at once a pleasant and quiet murmur spread through the whole army. A minute later our commanders shouted: "Forward! Forward! Forward!" and we all rushed off just as we stood. It is quite impossible to describe the rapture with which we then ran in pursuit of the enemy, or rather hurried to take his place. Nothing was impossible for us now. We went straight through the brushwood and through the marsh, and I do not know how we got through. What pranks and mishaps did not happen during this scramble! One, running beside himself with joy, would suddenly fall into a pothole and sink waist-deep in the mire; another, tripping over a tussock, flew headlong and sprawled in the mire and mud and smeared himself in it like a scarecrow; another caught his clothes on the bushes and could not free himself, and tore them without caring that they would be spoiled. Another had his face and eyes all lashed by twigs; another, getting into the mire, could not pull his feet out and called for help. But all this seemed fine and as it should be. We ran through this bad place laughing and guffawing, and all that could be heard was: "Forward! Forward, brother! Glory to God, ours have won!"

Nevertheless, being in the dense brushwood, for all our joy we also thought about not running into the enemy on coming out of it. "Who knows," some said, "whether his second line is not still standing in place and has not stopped the fleeing men?" But how could that possibly be! However much the Prussians boast in their reports that they retreated in good order, of order there was not so much as a trace. They vanished from our sight in an instant, and the whole field was strewn with them. On coming out of our brushwood onto the field, we did not see a single one of them; there stood only their abandoned guns, and beside them lay dead artillerymen and other soldiers.

Having at last run up to the place where their second line had stood, we were ordered to halt and dress our ranks with the other regiments forming up there in one line, and no sooner had the whole army made its way out from behind the forest and formed in one line than they shouted "Hurrah!" and threw their hats in the air. Oh! What a joyful sight this was for us! Many could not utter a word for tears of joy, so moving was this for every soldier.

Thus ended our glorious battle under Apraksin, our first battle with the Prussians.

Heaven was pleased to grant us a complete victory over our enemy, and we could not thank it enough for that, especially on learning in what danger the whole army had been and how little had been lacking for it to be utterly routed, and for us to be covered for ever with the shame that a mere handful of Prussians had been able to rout so numerous an army as ours. And indeed, if one considers it, this victory was won not by the skill of our commanders, of which there was not a trace, but rather by the exceptional bravery of our troops, or most of all by a special ordering of destiny, which arranged all the circumstances so that the very bravery of our soldiers was already forced, and they were obliged willy-nilly to fight to the last drop of their blood, since they had nowhere to flee or retreat. But be that as it may, we won, and won a complete victory; and so that you, my dear friend, may see more clearly the whole course of this battle, I have explained all of it to you in the drawing sent herewith (see drawing 3 at the back of the book {This drawing, however, is not in Bolotov's original manuscript. M. S.}), and of what followed afterwards, as well as of the other circumstances relating to this battle, I shall inform you in the next letter, and, ending the present one here, I shall say that I am ever yours, etc.

THE MARCH TO WEHLAU

Letter 48

My dear friend! I ended my last letter by saying that we drove off the enemy and won a complete victory. And now I must tell you what happened among us after that and how great our gain was.

They say that a twofold art is required of commanders of armies, namely: that they should know how to win, and, still more, that they should know how to make use of their victories and not let them go to waste. But as for our commanders, it seems to me that they lacked both these arts. They knew neither how to win nor how to make use of victories. God granted us an unexpected victory, and, it seems to me, without any design or participation on our part, and as for making use of it, that was not even in our minds. Either we did not know how, or we did not wish to. A rumour went round the army at the time that many had supposedly proposed pursuing the enemy and trying to destroy him utterly; and had supposedly also advised the field marshal to follow the fleeing enemy with the whole army without any delay. But Mr Lieven, on whose advice everything depended most of all, and who, as we learned later, was very displeased even that we had unexpectedly managed to defeat the enemy, supposedly said on this occasion "that there are not two feast days on one day; it is enough that we have won." And since all his utterances were regarded as oracles, consequently not the slightest pursuit of the enemy was undertaken. He was given time to drag himself farther away from us and was not hindered from gathering his strength again as he pleased. In such circumstances our enemies were truly very foolish not to come back and attack us anew: they were quite capable of smashing us to dust, given our fine orderliness.

Thus the enemy went off, while we halted on the spot where we had formed up after the battle and, without moving a step forward, ordered the baggage to be brought up to us and the camp pitched.

No sooner had we been dismissed from the front than our first concern was to mount our horses and ride to view the battlefield. What a spectacle presented itself then to us, who had never seen anything like it! The whole gentle slope on which the Prussian line had stood and fought was strewn with the dead bodies of the enemy, and here we saw a strange thing. They all lay already as naked as the day they were born, and not only their stockings and shoes but even their very shirts had been stripped from them. But who had stripped them like this, and when, we could not understand at all, for the time had been extraordinarily short and the battle had only just ended. And we could not marvel enough at how quickly our drivers, orderlies and servants had managed to contrive this and strip all the slain Prussians so bare that beside every man lay only the wooden block from the pouch in which the cartridges had been, and the blue paper with which they had been covered. These things, evidently, were no longer of use to anyone, while of other things we saw not a single one, so that even the very ribbons from their pigtails, not worth three dengas, had been untied and carried off. Such a pitiful state presented to us a most moving spectacle. Besides, we saw that the slain were almost all big men, healthy, fair-skinned, fat, and, in a word, they lay on their backs like mountains or like Circassian oxen. Small, upturned moustaches gave even the dead a fearsome and heroic look. Moreover, the various positions and conditions in which we saw these slain men caused us a certain shudder. One had his whole head, or half of it, torn off; another lay either without an arm or without a leg; a third without a side, or torn in half. Others had been shot only by bullets and lay stretched out, and each presented some particular spectacle. But how astonished we were when we rode up to the forest and to the place where our men, the Russians, had stood and fought. Here a quite different spectacle presented itself to us. The whole edge of the forest was strewn with men, but they seemed only to be sleeping, exactly as if the front had been dismissed and the soldiers had wandered off in different directions and each had curled up wherever he happened to be. They were all clothed and untouched, just as they had been killed, and therefore they lay in particular positions. One lay face down, another huddled under a bush, a third on his side with his musket and all the rest of his arms beside him, a fourth on his back, and so on.

But what we marvelled at most of all was that we saw far fewer slain on our side than on the Prussian side, and we found no other reason for it than that the secret Shuvalov howitzers had done great damage here.

There was no way for us to learn the true losses on both sides; however, everyone said at the time that our losses in killed really did not reach even 1000 men, but amounted to only 860; on the other hand, there were far more wounded, well over four thousand men, and since very many of them died soon afterwards, the total loss in killed can really be put at about two thousand, and with the wounded at about five thousand, although many of the latter were very lightly wounded and were only counted among them; and there were also some who, though not wounded at all, tried to have themselves included among the wounded, thinking to gain some advantage thereby, though in this they deceived themselves badly, and their hope was vain. In our own regiment there was an example of this kind. A sub-lieutenant, a man of my acquaintance and otherwise a decent officer, by the name of Mr Aristov, had not been in the ranks or in the battle at all that day, but had been with the baggage, because he had fallen somewhat ill the day before, and so was riding lying down in his kibitka. But suddenly he turned up among the wounded. "Lord have mercy," we said among ourselves, marvelling at this, "how did it happen that our Aristov is wounded?" But soon afterwards we learned that he had not so much as set eyes on the enemy; only at the moment when the danger was greatest, and when all the baggage was being driven away and back, he took such a fright that, forgetting his illness and jumping onto an outrunner horse unharnessed from a cart, he dashed off galloping back, and, riding past a tree, in his haste caught his head on a branch and scratched his forehead a little with it. And this small scar this gentleman took it into his head to call a wound received from the enemy and to enter himself among the wounded. No doubt he thought to receive some reward for it, but in this expectation he was badly deceived, and achieved only that the whole regiment, on learning of this incident, began to make fun of him, and brought him at last to such a point that he was forced to flee from it and ask to be transferred to another regiment.

As for the enemy's losses, everyone unanimously said that up to 2,500 men were found dead on the spot alone, not to speak of the wounded, who were incomparably more numerous. Besides that, we took more than 600 of them prisoner, with eight officers, and their number grew by the hour. Deserters alone, or men who came over to us of their own accord, numbered up to 300 and more. In addition to all that, we took on the battlefield 29 guns with their ammunition boxes and charges, of which three were enormous.

We also took 29 drums as booty, but we did not manage to capture a single standard: the Prussians were too careful and guarded them very diligently.

And their generals and commanders themselves, evidently, were not as zealous and daring as ours, for among their killed was only one, Major Goltz, and among the wounded Lieutenant General Count Dohna. We, on the contrary, lost several generals and commanders in this battle; but for none did the whole army grieve so much as for General-in-Chief Lopukhin. He, wounded to pieces, had been taken prisoner by the Prussians, but was recovered by force from the Prussian grenadiers and carried in men's arms to the baggage. Here he had at least the consolation of living to the end of the battle, and his last words remained in the unforgettable memory of the whole army. Already at the very edge of life, he still asked those standing by: "Are ours pursuing?", "Is the field marshal alive?" And when he had been assured of both, he crossed himself and said: — "Well, glory to God! Now I shall die in peace, having paid my debt to my sovereign and my beloved fatherland!" and that very moment he did indeed die. His death was, in all fairness, a glorious one, for rarely have so many wept for any general as for him. Being a rich man and generous to the highest degree, he had thereby been able to win thousands of hearts to love him and to make them mourn him at his end.

Another general whom we lost was Lieutenant General Zybin. He too bore the name of a good man and deserved regret: yet of him there was not much talk, nor for long. Brigadier Kapnist was the third of those killed, and both of these were killed on our left wing at the time when the Prussians broke in behind our front with their cavalry. Of our other generals many were wounded, namely: both Messrs Lieven, Georgy and Matvey, General Tolstoy, Major Generals de Bosquet, Villebois and Manteuffel, Quartermaster General Weymarn and Brigadier Plemyannikov; but their wounds were not dangerous and so slight that they could carry out their duties. As for the staff and junior officers, no small number of them were killed and wounded, and it is enough to say that after the battle the Second Grenadier Regiment had to be commanded by a lieutenant, for all its staff officers and captains had been partly killed, partly wounded. In a word, however brief our battle was, a good deal of human blood was shed in it, and more than one burial mound with buried soldiers remained on the fields of Jägersdorf.

On the following day, that is, the 20th of August, we held a thanksgiving celebration. We offered due thanks to the Almighty, with a salute fired from the enemy guns taken as booty, and the whole army was drawn up in ranks and fired three times in the usual running fire. All the soldiers were issued a ration of vodka; it was also ordered that a month's pay be issued to them as a bonus, not counted against their pay. The rest of the day was spent sorting the bodies of the killed, both our own and the enemy's, and receiving provisions for the prisoners of war taken in the battle, whose number grew by the hour.

The army stood on the same spot through the following 21st as well. And on that day we buried our dead and the enemy's bodies, and sent the prisoners and wounded back to Tilsit.

Also on that day Major General Panin was dispatched to the court in Saint Petersburg with the news of this battle.

Our field marshal, in his report to the court about this event, tried as far as possible to conceal and hide his unforgivable blunder and the fact that he had let the enemy come so close to him through his own negligence alone, and gave the whole affair as favourable an appearance as possible. He expressed his surprise at having found the Prussian army far superior in numbers to what he had thought, amounting to as many as forty thousand. He praised the bravery and daring of the Prussians to the skies and completely concealed the circumstance that not even a quarter of our army had been in actual action, and that the whole affair had been settled by no more than some fifteen regiments, while all the rest had stood with folded arms and idle behind the forest. The most decisive circumstance he related truthfully, it is true, but in a different light, and finally tried to drown everything out by ascribing immoderate praise to the Shuvalov howitzers and to the volunteers who had been present at the battle: Prince Repnin, Count Bruce, Count Apraksin, Guards Captain Bolting, and the foreigners: the Austrian General Saint-André, the French Colonel Vietinghoff, and especially L'Hôpital, the Saxon Colonel Lansdorf and the Holstein Lieutenant Nádasdy, of whom, it seems, out of sheer flattery he said that in this battle they had supposedly performed miracles of bravery, zeal, devotion and fearlessness. But in fact these were the people least talked about in our army. And all these persons were so little known among us that we did not even know they were with the army; moreover, no one understood where and on what occasion they could have performed these miracles of bravery, for the battle was so cramped and tangled that none of the commanders could do anything. And if anyone was renowned and praised by the whole army, that honour can be ascribed to Colonel Yazykov.

He did more than anyone: though he himself was wounded to pieces, he withstood all the fire with his regiment and, having repulsed the enemy pressing on with all his might, held a very important post; yet of this true hero our commander-in-chief did not say a single word in his report.

As for the Prussians, nothing could be more laughable and more vexing than the way they depicted this battle in their writings, and the shamelessness with which they lied and invented what had never happened, trying thereby to deceive the whole world and give this battle quite a different appearance, more favourable to themselves. First of all they concocted about us the utter fable that we stood there so dug in and in so strong an entrenchment that we had made not only four lines or ramparts, but in front of them regular trenches as well, furnished with more than 200 guns, whereas nowhere had we turned a single spadeful of earth, and as for what trenches might have been needed for, not only did we not know, but if one were to ask the Prussian writer himself, he too would not know what to say, for this was already sheer nonsense. But it pleased him to fortify our camp in this way in his fervid imagination, in order thereby to magnify all the more the heroic spirit of his field marshal, Lehwaldt, who had dared to attack us standing in so strong a fortification, and in order the more conveniently to hide their shame afterwards and to justify him for losing the battle, for afterwards he did say that, however bravely the Prussians had advanced and however successfully they had supposedly overthrown our whole first line, and especially the cavalry, completely, and had supposedly seized from us as many as three whole battalions and more than 60 guns, it had nevertheless been in no way possible, so they said, to take all those numerous entrenchments built one behind another; but they had been forced to let go again of the victory that had already been in their hands and, having killed as many as 9,000 of our men, to retreat in the best order.

Such were the unconscionable and shameless inventions and the open falsehoods with which they tried to blind the eyes of the world and cover their shame. But fortunately their descriptions of this battle varied and were not uniform, and disagreed with one another in many respects. For example, in another account they added a new lie, saying that we had built an abatis of felled trees, and that it was hard for them to cross it and then form up, although nothing of the kind existed. And in a third account they lied still more shamelessly, assuring the world that their cavalry had completely overthrown our left flank and cavalry and taken the battery, whereas the battery did not even let them come near it, but with a single salvo caused such havoc among them that they turned back that very instant and, leaving the squadron that had ridden in behind our front as a sacrifice to our men, barely dragged themselves away and left that wing in peace.

Further, they lied most shamelessly that on our right flank a great many batteries had supposedly been built, one behind another, and that they had supposedly taken three of them, but could not take them all.

Finally, to crown their shameless lie with one still more unconscionable, as a pretext for why they had been forced to retreat they concocted a laughable story and such a fable as one truly must roar with laughter at, namely, that their second line, deceived by the density of the smoke, had itself begun to fire at their own first line from behind, and that since the latter, caught in this way between two fires and enduring one fire from behind, from its own men, and the other from the front, from us, together with the firing of more than 150 guns and mortars, could no longer hold out, it was forced to retreat, leaving 11 guns and having killed more than 10,000 of our men, and so on.

In this and similar ways the Prussians tried to lie to the whole world and to console themselves in their failure. But what is most surprising of all, even the King of Prussia himself, in his writings left after his death, mentioning this battle, speaks more truthfully than all the others, it is true, and describes it almost exactly as it happened, yet on certain points he too lies a little, namely, saying that we had an abatis and that they lost only 13 guns, and of men killed, wounded and taken prisoner only 1,400 — which was just as untrue as his assertion that their army numbered no more than 24,000 men. For the rest, he greatly blamed his field marshal Lehwaldt for not attacking us earlier, and especially on the day before, when we had marched out and formed up. But God knows whether they would then have managed to gain any advantage over us, for we were then ready for battle and in a much better position; and all this proves that the king himself was not very truthfully informed of all the circumstances, and that he himself had no proper idea of this battle.

But be that as it may, the Prussians did not manage to beat us as they wished, and all the skill of their generals and the bravery of their soldiers did not help them in the least. But fate was pleased to have us defeat them and drive them back to their former fortified camp at Wehlau, to which, not being pursued, they returned without hindrance.

This event was as pleasant and joyful for us as it was bitter for the King of Prussia, who at that very time was in very troubled circumstances.

The famous battle of Kolin, which he lost against the Austrians and which was mentioned earlier, had very unpleasant consequences for him. I have already mentioned above that he was forced to abandon in shame the siege of Prague, the Bohemian capital, to forget all his proud and magnificent plans and hopes of a swift conquest of all Bohemia, and to think instead about how to get out of Bohemia himself as quickly as possible and with the least loss.

With this intention he divided his army into two corps, and led one of them himself back into Saxony, while he sent the other, under the command of his heir, the Prince, brother, father of the present King of Prussia {This was written in 1789. Ed.}, into Lusatia, to protect that region from an Austrian invasion. With the first of these corps he left Bohemia and returned to Saxony quite successfully and without suffering any further losses. But the army of the heir prince was not so fortunate. The large Austrian army followed it and, having good commanders, took up such a position that it prevented the prince from continuing his march to Gabel. In this fortress was the Prussian General Puttkamer with four battalions of garrison troops. The Austrians besieged him there and forced him to surrender at once, and since the capture of this place cut off the prince's communication with his magazines in the town of Zittau, he was forced to seek another road and go round by way of Kamnitz. But this march was not only extremely difficult for him but disastrous and costly, for on this road, being incessantly harassed by the Austrians, he lost a great many men, munitions and baggage, and very nearly starved his whole army, for it came to the point that it had no bread for three whole days and would very nearly have perished altogether had not General Winterfeldt, fortunately, delivered some provisions to it from Zittau. In a word, this prince was reduced to such straits that instead of marching into Lusatia he was forced to retreat in haste to Bautzen and aside towards Saxony.

Here the king joined him, and was so displeased with the prince's conduct that for some time he would not deign to look at him and showed him every sign of his anger and disfavour.

Yet he himself had no better luck in everything. He was so shaken by all the said events that for a long time he could undertake nothing and spent the greater part of the summer restoring his battered army and supplying it with everything needed.

Finally, at the beginning of August, having gathered to himself the detachments of his troops scattered in various places, he resolved to try his luck against the Austrians once more, and for this purpose set off with the army towards Zittau; but he found the enemy there standing in so advantageous a position that, for all his bravery and skill, he did not venture to undertake the slightest action against him, but, having done nothing, returned again to Saxony, where other and more important needs called him; for he had received news that, on the one hand, his allies the Hanoverians, after losing a battle against the French, were already being pressed too hard by them, and that matters were coming to the point where the army must either perish or surrender; on the other, that the so-called Imperial Army of Execution had already assembled in great numbers near Nuremberg and, having joined with the French, was preparing to enter Saxony and attack him there; and on the third, that seventeen thousand men had crossed from Sweden over the Baltic Sea into Pomerania, and that this force was preparing to invade his lands. And so the king had to put up resistance against all these enemies and devise every means of averting them. And since at that very time news was received of our army's entry into Prussia, and soon afterwards of the very victory we had won over his army, all this naturally threw his thoughts into great disarray. He did not know where and to which side to turn his chief attention first, and all this finally brought him to such dismay that he gave himself up almost to complete despair and, unwilling to see himself covered with shame and dishonour, had even resolved to take his own life altogether, as some letters he wrote to Voltaire and an ode he composed himself for the occasion of this suicide clearly testify.

That is to what a desperate state the King of Prussia was brought that summer, and how keenly he felt the victories won over him by the Austrians and by us. So many enemies, surrounding him on all sides with strong and numerous armies, caused him great apprehension and filled him with fear and terror. He felt that he was too weak and powerless against them all, and therefore expected nothing other than that he would inevitably be routed, and that he would not only lose everything he had conquered, but that the Austrians would also seize the whole of his Brandenburg; and as for us, both the whole world and he himself had no doubt at the time that we, taking advantage of the victory won over his army, would not fail at once to seize his whole Kingdom of Prussia and drive the remnants of his beaten army out of it. We all thought the same ourselves, but we were reckoning without our host: Providence was pleased to order all events quite otherwise and to bring about what no one could in any way have thought or expected, and at which the whole world was astonished beyond measure.

All this you will see and hear, my dear friend, in the future continuation of my letters, but for now do not demand or expect it of me! My letter has already grown too long, and it is time for me to end it, and since from now on the matter will be somewhat different, it will be fitting to speak of it separately. Therefore, breaking off here and assuring you of the constancy of my friendship, I remain, etc.

END OF PART FOUR.

(To be continued.)

SOURCE:

Болотов А. Т. Жизнь и приключения Андрея Болотова: Описанные самим им для своих потомков: В 3 т. Т. 1: 1738-1759 / Вс. ст. С. Ронского; Примеч. П. Жаткина, И. Кравцова. -- М.: ТЕРРА, 1993.

Some of the omitted chapters were added from:

Edition: А. Т. Болотов в Кёнигсберге (Из записок А. Т. Болотова, написанных самим им для своих потомков). Калининград, Кн. Из-во, 1990.

The remaining chapters were added from the first edition of the "Notes" (Supplement to "Russkaya Starina", 1870).

Translated from Russian with the help of AI (Claude, Anthropic), October 2026.