An excerpt from the original text.(complete · 2619 words)
“e’s coming!” shouted the signaler at that moment.
The regimental commander, flushing, ran to his horse, seized the stirrup
with trembling hands, threw his body across the saddle, righted himself,
drew his saber, and with a happy and resolute countenance, opening
his mouth awry, prepared to shout. The regiment fluttered like a bird
preening its plumage and became motionless.
“Att-ention!” shouted the regimental commander in a soul-shaking
voice which expressed joy for himself, severity for the regiment, and
welcome for the approaching chief.
Along the broad country road, edged on both sides by trees, came a high,
light blue Viennese calèche, slightly creaking on its springs and drawn
by six horses at a smart trot. Behind the calèche galloped the suite
and a convoy of Croats. Beside Kutúzov sat an Austrian general, in
a white uniform that looked strange among the Russian black ones. The
calèche stopped in front of the regiment. Kutúzov and the Austrian
general were talking in low voices and Kutúzov smiled slightly as
treading heavily he stepped down from the carriage just as if those two
thousand men breathlessly gazing at him and the regimental commander did
not exist.
The word of command rang out, and again the regiment quivered, as with a
jingling sound it presented arms. Then amidst a dead silence the
feeble voice of the commander in chief was heard. The regiment roared,
“Health to your ex... len... len... lency!” and again all became
silent. At first Kutúzov stood still while the regiment moved; then he
and the general in white, accompanied by the suite, walked between the
ranks.
From the way the regimental commander saluted the commander in chief and
devoured him with his eyes, drawing himself up obsequiously, and from
the way he walked through the ranks behind the generals, bending forward
and hardly able to restrain his jerky movements, and from the way he
darted forward at every word or gesture of the commander in chief,
it was evident that he performed his duty as a subordinate with even
greater zeal than his duty as a commander. Thanks to the strictness and
assiduity of its commander the regiment, in comparison with others that
had reached Braunau at the same time, was in splendid condition. There
were only 217 sick and stragglers. Everything was in good order except
the boots.
Kutúzov walked through the ranks, sometimes stopping to say a few
friendly words to officers he had known in the Turkish war, sometimes
also to the soldiers. Looking at their boots he several times shook his
head sadly, pointing them out to the Austrian general with an expression
which seemed to say that he was not blaming anyone, but could not help
noticing what a bad state of things it was. The regimental commander
ran forward on each such occasion, fearing to miss a single word of the
commander in chief’s regarding the regiment. Behind Kutúzov, at a
distance that allowed every softly spoken word to be heard, followed
some twenty men of his suite. These gentlemen talked among themselves
and sometimes laughed. Nearest of all to the commander in chief walked
a handsome adjutant. This was Prince Bolkónski. Beside him was his
comrade Nesvítski, a tall staff officer, extremely stout, with a
kindly, smiling, handsome face and moist eyes. Nesvítski could hardly
keep from laughter provoked by a swarthy hussar officer who walked
beside him. This hussar, with a grave face and without a smile or a
change in the expression of his fixed eyes, watched the regimental
commander’s back and mimicked his every movement. Each time the
commander started and bent forward, the hussar started and bent forward
in exactly the same manner. Nesvítski laughed and nudged the others to
make them look at the wag.
Kutúzov walked slowly and languidly past thousands of eyes which were
starting from their sockets to watch their chief. On reaching the
third company he suddenly stopped. His suite, not having expected this,
involuntarily came closer to him.
“Ah, Timókhin!” said he, recognizing the red-nosed captain who had
been reprimanded on account of the blue greatcoat.
One would have thought it impossible for a man to stretch himself
more than Timókhin had done when he was reprimanded by the regimental
commander, but now that the commander in chief addressed him he drew
himself up to such an extent that it seemed he could not have sustained
it had the commander in chief continued to look at him, and so Kutúzov,
who evidently understood his case and wished him nothing but good,
quickly turned away, a scarcely perceptible smile flitting over his
scarred and puffy face.
“Another Ismail comrade,” said he. “A brave officer! Are you
satisfied with him?” he asked the regimental commander.
And the latter—unconscious that he was being reflected in the hussar
officer as in a looking glass—started, moved forward, and answered:
“Highly satisfied, your excellency!”
“We all have our weaknesses,” said Kutúzov smiling and walking away
from him. “He used to have a predilection for Bacchus.”
The regimental commander was afraid he might be blamed for this and did
not answer. The hussar at that moment noticed the face of the red-nosed
captain and his drawn-in stomach, and mimicked his expression and pose
with such exactitude that Nesvítski could not help laughing. Kutúzov
turned round. The officer evidently had complete control of his face,
and while Kutúzov was turning managed to make a grimace and then assume
a most serious, deferential, and innocent expression.
The third company was the last, and Kutúzov pondered, apparently trying
to recollect something. Prince Andrew stepped forward from among the
suite and said in French:
“You told me to remind you of the officer Dólokhov, reduced to the
ranks in this regiment.”
“Where is Dólokhov?” asked Kutúzov.
Dólokhov, who had already changed into a soldier’s gray greatcoat,
did not wait to be called. The shapely figure of the fair-haired
soldier, with his clear blue eyes, stepped forward from the ranks, went
up to the commander in chief, and presented arms.
“Have you a complaint to make?” Kutúzov asked with a slight frown.
“This is Dólokhov,” said Prince Andrew.
“Ah!” said Kutúzov. “I hope this will be a lesson to you. Do your
duty. The Emperor is gracious, and I shan’t forget you if you deserve
well.”
The clear blue eyes looked at the commander in chief just as boldly as
they had looked at the regimental commander, seeming by their expression
to tear open the veil of convention that separates a commander in chief
so widely from a private.
“One thing I ask of your excellency,” Dólokhov said in his firm,
ringing, deliberate voice. “I ask an opportunity to atone for my fault
and prove my devotion to His Majesty the Emperor and to Russia!”
Kutúzov turned away. The same smile of the eyes with which he had
turned from Captain Timókhin again flitted over his face. He turned
away with a grimace as if to say that everything Dólokhov had said to
him and everything he could say had long been known to him, that he was
weary of it and it was not at all what he wanted. He turned away and
went to the carriage.
The regiment broke up into companies, which went to their appointed
quarters near Braunau, where they hoped to receive boots and clothes and
to rest after their hard marches.
“You won’t bear me a grudge, Prokhór Ignátych?” said the
regimental commander, overtaking the third company on its way to its
quarters and riding up to Captain Timókhin who was walking in front.
(The regimental commander’s face now that the inspection was happily
over beamed with irrepressible delight.) “It’s in the Emperor’s
service... it can’t be helped... one is sometimes a bit hasty on
parade... I am the first to apologize, you know me!... He was very
pleased!” And he held out his hand to the captain.
“Don’t mention it, General, as if I’d be so bold!” replied the
captain, his nose growing redder as he gave a smile which showed where
two front teeth were missing that had been knocked out by the butt end
of a gun at Ismail.
“And tell Mr. Dólokhov that I won’t forget him—he may be quite
easy. And tell me, please—I’ve been meaning to ask—how is he
behaving himself, and in general...”
“As far as the service goes he is quite punctilious, your excellency;
but his character...” said Timókhin.
“And what about his character?” asked the regimental commander.
“It’s different on different days,” answered the captain. “One
day he is sensible, well educated, and good-natured, and the next he’s
a wild beast.... In Poland, if you please, he nearly killed a Jew.”
“Oh, well, well!” remarked the regimental commander. “Still, one
must have pity on a young man in misfortune. You know he has important
connections... Well, then, you just...”
“I will, your excellency,” said Timókhin, showing by his smile that
he understood his commander’s wish.
“Well, of course, of course!”
The regimental commander sought out Dólokhov in the ranks and, reining
in his horse, said to him:
“After the next affair... epaulettes.”
Dólokhov looked round but did not say anything, nor did the mocking
smile on his lips change.
“Well, that’s all right,” continued the regimental commander. “A
cup of vodka for the men from me,” he added so that the soldiers
could hear. “I thank you all! God be praised!” and he rode past that
company and overtook the next one.
“Well, he’s really a good fellow, one can serve under him,” said
Timókhin to the subaltern beside him.
“In a word, a hearty one...” said the subaltern, laughing (the
regimental commander was nicknamed King of Hearts).
The cheerful mood of their officers after the inspection infected the
soldiers. The company marched on gaily. The soldiers’ voices could be
heard on every side.
“And they said Kutúzov was blind of one eye?”
“And so he is! Quite blind!”
“No, friend, he is sharper-eyed than you are. Boots and leg bands...
he noticed everything...”
“When he looked at my feet, friend... well, thinks I...”
“And that other one with him, the Austrian, looked as if he were
smeared with chalk—as white as flour! I suppose they polish him up as
they do the guns.”
“I say, Fédeshon!... Did he say when the battles are to begin? You
were near him. Everybody said that Buonaparte himself was at Braunau.”
“Buonaparte himself!... Just listen to the fool, what he doesn’t
know! The Prussians are up in arms now. The Austrians, you see, are
putting them down. When they’ve been put down, the war with Buonaparte
will begin. And he says Buonaparte is in Braunau! Shows you’re a fool.
You’d better listen more carefully!”
“What devils these quartermasters are! See, the fifth company is
turning into the village already... they will have their buckwheat
cooked before we reach our quarters.”
“Give me a biscuit, you devil!”
“And did you give me tobacco yesterday? That’s just it, friend! Ah,
well, never mind, here you are.”
“They might call a halt here or we’ll have to do another four miles
without eating.”
“Wasn’t it fine when those Germans gave us lifts! You just sit still
and are drawn along.”
“And here, friend, the people are quite beggarly. There they all
seemed to be Poles—all under the Russian crown—but here they’re
all regular Germans.”
“Singers to the front” came the captain’s order.
And from the different ranks some twenty men ran to the front. A
drummer, their leader, turned round facing the singers, and flourishing
his arm, began a long-drawn-out soldiers’ song, commencing with the
words: “Morning dawned, the sun was rising,” and concluding: “On
then, brothers, on to glory, led by Father Kámenski.” This song had
been composed in the Turkish campaign and now being sung in Austria, the
only change being that the words “Father Kámenski” were replaced by
“Father Kutúzov.”
Having jerked out these last words as soldiers do and waved his arms
as if flinging something to the ground, the drummer—a lean, handsome
soldier of forty—looked sternly at the singers and screwed up his
eyes. Then having satisfied himself that all eyes were fixed on him,
he raised both arms as if carefully lifting some invisible but precious
object above his head and, holding it there for some seconds, suddenly
flung it down and began:
“Oh, my bower, oh, my bower...!”
“Oh, my bower new...!” chimed in twenty voices, and the castanet
player, in spite of the burden of his equipment, rushed out to the front
and, walking backwards before the company, jerked his shoulders and
flourished his castanets as if threatening someone. The soldiers,
swinging their arms and keeping time spontaneously, marched with long
steps. Behind the company the sound of wheels, the creaking of springs,
and the tramp of horses’ hoofs were heard. Kutúzov and his suite were
returning to the town. The commander in chief made a sign that the
men should continue to march at ease, and he and all his suite showed
pleasure at the sound of the singing and the sight of the dancing
soldier and the gay and smartly marching men. In the second file
from the right flank, beside which the carriage passed the company,
a blue-eyed soldier involuntarily attracted notice. It was Dólokhov
marching with particular grace and boldness in time to the song and
looking at those driving past as if he pitied all who were not at that
moment marching with the company. The hussar cornet of Kutúzov’s
suite who had mimicked the regimental commander, fell back from the
carriage and rode up to Dólokhov.
Hussar cornet Zherkóv had at one time, in Petersburg, belonged to
the wild set led by Dólokhov. Zherkóv had met Dólokhov abroad as a
private and had not seen fit to recognize him. But now that Kutúzov had
spoken to the gentleman ranker, he addressed him with the cordiality of
an old friend.
“My dear fellow, how are you?” said he through the singing, making
his horse keep pace with the company.
“How am I?” Dólokhov answered coldly. “I am as you see.”
The lively song gave a special flavor to the tone of free and easy
gaiety with which Zherkóv spoke, and to the intentional coldness of
Dólokhov’s reply.
“And how do you get on with the officers?” inquired Zherkóv.
“All right. They are good fellows. And how have you wriggled onto the
staff?”
“I was attached; I’m on duty.”
Both were silent.
“She let the hawk fly upward from her wide right sleeve,” went the
song, arousing an involuntary sensation of courage and cheerfulness.
Their conversation would probably have been different but for the effect
of that song.
“Is it true that Austrians have been beaten?” asked Dólokhov.
“The devil only knows! They say so.”
“I’m glad,” answered Dólokhov briefly and clearly, as the song
demanded.
“I say, come round some evening and we’ll have a game of faro!”
said Zherkóv.
“Why, have you too much money?”
“Do come.”
“I can’t. I’ve sworn not to. I won’t drink and won’t play till
I get reinstated.”
“Well, that’s only till the first engagement.”
“We shall see.”
They were again silent.
“Come if you need anything. One can at least be of use on the
staff...”
Dólokhov smiled. “Don’t trouble. If I want anything, I won’t
beg—I’ll take it!”
“Well, never mind; I only...”
“And I only...”
“Good-by.”
“Good health...”
“It’s a long, long way.
To my native land...”
Zherkóv touched his horse with the spurs; it pranced excitedly from
foot to foot uncertain with which to start, then settled down, galloped
past the company, and overtook the carriage, still keeping time to the
song.
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Let's Analyse the Pattern
The Performance Anxiety Chain
When authority figures arrive to judge performance, anxiety cascades down hierarchies, creating desperate people-pleasing that often backfires.
Why This Matters
Connect literature to life
This chapter teaches how to recognize when anxiety travels down organizational hierarchies and how authentic leaders cut through performance to see what matters.
Practice This Today
This week, notice when someone above you in the hierarchy gets nervous—watch how that anxiety spreads to everyone below them, and practice staying grounded in your actual competence rather than joining the performance.
Now let's explore the literary elements.
Key Quotes & Analysis
"The regiment fluttered like a bird preening its plumage and became motionless."
Context: Describing how the soldiers prepare themselves as their commanding general approaches
This beautiful metaphor captures the nervous energy and last-minute adjustments everyone makes when the boss arrives. It shows how even disciplined soldiers are still human beings who want to look their best when being evaluated.
In Today's Words:
Everyone quickly fixed their hair and straightened their uniforms when they saw the big boss coming.
"Kutúzov smiled slightly as treading heavily he stepped down from the carriage just as if those two thousand men breathlessly gazing at him and the regimental commander did not exist."
Context: Kutúzov's calm arrival contrasts sharply with everyone else's nervous energy
This shows true leadership confidence - Kutúzov doesn't need to put on a show because he's secure in his authority. His casual demeanor actually makes him more impressive, not less. He's comfortable with power.
In Today's Words:
He got out of the car like it was just another Tuesday, completely unbothered by all the people stressing out about impressing him.
"At first Kutúzov stood still while the regiment presented arms, then he and the general began walking between the ranks."
Context: The formal inspection begins after the initial ceremony
This shows the ritual nature of workplace hierarchy - there are specific steps and ceremonies that must be followed. But the real work happens during the informal moments when Kutúzov actually observes his people.
In Today's Words:
First they did the official stuff everyone expected, then he actually started paying attention to what was really going on.
Thematic Threads
Class
In This Chapter
Dólokhov maintains dignity despite being reduced from nobleman to common soldier, while others treat him awkwardly
Development
Deepening exploration of how class identity persists even when circumstances change
In Your Life:
You might see this when former managers become your peers, or when family members experience financial changes
Identity
In This Chapter
Each character performs a role—the nervous commander, the wise general, the proud fallen noble—rather than simply being themselves
Development
Continuing theme of how social situations force us into performed versions of ourselves
In Your Life:
You might recognize this when you act differently around your boss versus your coworkers, or with family versus friends
Recognition
In This Chapter
Kutúzov's small gesture of kindness to Timókhin transforms the captain's entire emotional state and confidence
Development
Building on earlier themes about how acknowledgment from authority figures carries disproportionate weight
In Your Life:
You might experience this when a supervisor finally notices your good work, or when a doctor actually listens to your concerns
Power
In This Chapter
The regimental commander's anxiety reveals how those in middle management are often most vulnerable to pressure from above
Development
Expanding understanding of how power structures create stress at every level, not just the bottom
In Your Life:
You might see this in charge nurses, department supervisors, or team leads who seem harder on their staff when upper management is watching
Authenticity
In This Chapter
Only after the inspection ends do people return to their natural selves, singing and relaxing
Development
Introduced here—the contrast between performed and authentic behavior
In Your Life:
You might notice this in how differently people act during formal meetings versus casual conversations afterward
You now have the context. Time to form your own thoughts.
Discussion Questions
- 1
Why does the regimental commander become so nervous when Kutúzov arrives, and how does his anxiety affect everyone under him?
analysis • surface - 2
What does Kutúzov notice that the nervous commander misses, and why does this matter for understanding good leadership?
analysis • medium - 3
Think about your workplace or school - when does this same 'inspection anxiety' happen, and how do people change their behavior?
application • medium - 4
How would you handle being inspected by someone who controls your future, based on what Kutúzov teaches us about seeing through performances?
application • deep - 5
What does this chapter reveal about the difference between performing competence and actually being competent?
reflection • deep
Critical Thinking Exercise
Map Your Power Dynamic
Think of a situation where someone with authority over you (boss, teacher, parent, landlord) is coming to evaluate your performance. Draw or write out the chain reaction: how does their presence change you, and how does your changed behavior affect others around you? Then identify what really matters versus what you're tempted to perform.
Consider:
- •Notice the difference between what you worry they'll judge versus what actually affects your performance
- •Consider how your anxiety might be making you overlook important things (like Kutúzov noticing the worn boots)
- •Think about whether this person is more like the nervous commander or the wise Kutúzov in how they evaluate others
Journaling Prompt
Write about a time when you were being evaluated and either got caught up in the performance or managed to stay grounded in your actual competence. What did you learn about handling pressure from authority figures?
Coming Up Next...
Chapter 31: When Bad News Arrives
The focus shifts to the broader military campaign as we meet more key players in the unfolding drama. Political tensions and strategic decisions will soon test these same characters in ways that parade ground inspections never could.
