CHAPTER X.
THE SIEGE.
As we approached Orenburg we saw a crowd of convicts with cropped heads,and faces disfigured by the pincers of the executioner.[61]
They were working on the fortifications of the place under thepensioners of the garrison. Some were taking away in wheelbarrows therubbish which filled the ditch; others were hollowing out the earth withspades. Masons were bringing bricks and repairing the walls.
The sentries stopped us at the gates to demand our passports.
When the Sergeant learnt that we came from Fort Belogorsk he took usdirect to the General.
I found him in his garden. He was examining the apple-trees which thebreath of autumn had already deprived of their leaves, and, with thehelp of an old gardener, he was enveloping them in straw. His faceexpressed calm, good-humour and health.
He seemed very pleased to see me, and began to question me on theterrible events which I had witnessed. I related them.
The old man heard me with attention, and, while listening, cut the deadbranches.
"Poor Mironoff!" said he, when I had done my sad story; "'tis a pity! hewas a goot officer! And Matame Mironoff, she was a goot lady andfirst-rate at pickled mushrooms. And what became of Masha, the Captain'sdaughter?"
I replied that she had stayed in the fort, at the pope's house.
"Aie! aie! aie!" said the General. "That's bad! very bad; it is quiteimpossible to count on the discipline of robbers."
I drew his attention to the fact that Fort Belogorsk was not very faraway, and that probably his excellency would not delay dispatching adetachment of troops to deliver the poor inhabitants.
The General shook his head with an air of indecision--
"We shall see! we shall see!" said he, "we have plenty of time to talkabout it. I beg you will come and take tea with me. This evening therewill be a council of war; you can give us exact information about thatrascal Pugatchef and his army. Now in the meantime go and rest."
I went away to the lodging that had been assigned me, and whereSaveliitch was already installed. There I impatiently awaited the hourfixed.
The reader may well believe I was anxious not to miss this council ofwar, which was to have so great an influence on my life. I went at theappointed hour to the General's, where I found one of the civilofficials of Orenburg, the head of the Customs, if I recollect right, alittle old man, fat and red-faced, dressed in a coat of watered silk.
He began questioning me on the fate of Ivan Kouzmitch, whom he calledhis gossip, and he often interrupted me by many questions andsententious remarks, which if they did not show a man versed in theconduct of war, yet showed that he was possessed of natural wit, and ofintelligence. During this time the other guests had assembled. When allwere seated, and each one had been offered a cup of tea, the Generalexplained lengthily and minutely what was the affair in hand.
"Now, gentlemen, we must decide how we mean to act against the rebels.Shall it be offensively or defensively? Each way has its disadvantagesand its advantages. Offensive warfare offers more hope of the enemybeing speedily crushed; but a defensive war is surer and less dangerous.Consequently we will collect the votes according to the proper order,that is to say, begin first consulting the juniors in respect of rank.Now, Mr. Ensign," continued he, addressing me, "be so good as to give usyour opinion."
I rose, and after having depicted in a few words Pugatchef and his band,I declared that the usurper was not in a state to resist disciplinedtroops. My opinion was received by the civil officials with visiblediscontent.
They saw in it the headstrong impertinence of youth.
A murmur arose, and I distinctly heard said, half-aloud, the words,"Beardless boy." The General turned towards me, and smilingly said--
"Mr. Ensign, the early votes in a council of war are generally foroffensive measures. Now we will proceed. Mr. College Counsellor, tell usyour opinion?"
The little old man in the watered silk coat made haste to swallow histhird cup of tea, which he had mixed with a good help of rum.
"I think, your excellency," said he, "we must neither act on thedefensive nor yet on the offensive."
"How so, Mr. Counsellor?" replied the General, astounded. "There isnothing else open to us in tactics--one must act either on the defensiveor the offensive."
"Your excellency, endeavour to suborn."
"Eh! eh! your opinion is very judicious; the act of corruption is oneadmitted by the rules of war, and we will profit by your counsel. Wemight offer for the rascal's head seventy or even a hundred roubles, andtake them from the secret funds."
"And then," interrupted the head of the Customs, "I'm a Kirghiz insteadof a College Counsellor if these robbers do not deliver up their ataman,chained hand and foot."
"We will think of it, and talk of it again," rejoined the General."Still, in any case, we must also take military measures. Gentlemen,give your votes in proper order."
Everyone's opinion was contrary to mine. Those present vied with eachother about the untrustworthiness of the troops, the uncertainty ofsuccess, the necessity of prudence, and so forth. All were of opinionthat it was better to stay behind a strong wall, their safety assured bycannon, than to tempt the fortune of war in the open field.
At last, when all the opinions had been given, the General shook theashes out of his pipe and made the following speech:--
"Gentlemen, I must tell you, for my part, I am entirely of the opinionof our friend the ensign, for this opinion is based on the precepts ofgood tactics, in which nearly always offensive movements are preferableto defensive ones." Here he paused a moment and filled his pipe. Myself-love was triumphant, and I cast a proud glance at the civilofficials who were whispering among themselves, with an air of disquietand discontent. "But, gentlemen," resumed the General, with a sigh, andpuffing out a cloud of smoke, "I dare not take upon myself such a greatresponsibility, when the safety is in question of the provincesentrusted to my care by Her Imperial Majesty, my gracious Sovereign.Therefore I see I am obliged to abide by the advice of the majority,which has ruled that prudence as well as reason declares that we shouldawait in the town the siege which threatens us, and that we shoulddefeat the attacks of the enemy by the force of artillery, and, if thepossibility present itself, by well-directed sorties."
It was now the turn of the officials to look mockingly at me. Thecouncil broke up. I could not help deploring the weakness of the honestsoldier who, against his own judgment, had decided to abide by thecounsel of ignorant and inexperienced people.
Several days after this memorable council of war, Pugatchef, true to hisword, approached Orenburg. From the top of the city wall I took note ofthe army of the rebels, and it seemed to me that their number hadincreased tenfold since the last assault I had witnessed. They had alsoartillery, which had been taken from the little forts which had fallenbefore Pugatchef. As I recollected the decision of the council of war, Iforesaw a long imprisonment within the walls of Orenburg, and I wasready to cry with vexation.
Far be from me any intention of describing the siege of Orenburg, whichbelongs to history, and not to a family memoir. In a few words,therefore, I shall say that in consequence of the bad arrangements ofthe authorities, the siege was disastrous for the inhabitants, who wereforced to suffer hunger and privation of all kinds. Life at Orenburg wasbecoming unendurable; each one awaited in anxiety the fate that shouldbefall him. All complained of the famine, which was, indeed, awful.
The inhabitants ended by becoming accustomed to the shells falling ontheir houses. Even the assaults of Pugatchef no longer excited greatdisturbance. I was dying of ennui. The time passed but slowly. I couldnot get any letter from Belogorsk, for all the roads were blocked, andthe separation from Marya became unbearable. My only occupationconsisted in my military rounds.
Thanks to Pugatchef, I had a pretty good horse, with which I shared myscanty rations. Every day I passed beyond the ramparts, and I went andfired away against the scouts of Pugatchef. In these sort of skirmishesthe
rebels generally got the better of us, as they had plenty of foodand were capitally mounted.
Our thin, starved cavalry was unable to stand against them. Sometimesour famished infantry took the field, but the depth of the snowprevented action with any success against the flying cavalry of theenemy. The artillery thundered vainly from the height of the ramparts,and in the field guns could not work because of the weakness of theworn-out horses. This is how we made war, and this is what the officialsof Orenburg called prudence and foresight.
One day, when we had succeeded in dispersing and driving before us arather numerous band, I came up with one of the hindmost Cossacks, and Iwas about to strike him with my Turkish sabre when he took off his capand cried--
"Good day, Petr' Andrejitch; how is your health?"
I recognized our "_ouriadnik_." I cannot say how glad I was to see him.
"Good day, Maximitch," said I, "is it long since you left Belogorsk?"
"No, not long, my little father, Petr' Andrejitch; I only came backyesterday. I have a letter for you."
"Where is it?" I cried, overjoyed.
"I have got it," rejoined Maximitch, putting his hand into his breast."I promised Palashka to give it to you."
He handed me a folded paper, and immediately darted off at full gallop.I opened it and read with emotion the following lines--
"It has pleased God to deprive me at once of my father and my mother. Ihave no longer on earth either parents or protectors. I have recourse toyou, because I know you have always wished me well, and also that youare ever ready to help those in need. I pray God this letter may reachyou. Maximitch has promised me he will ensure it reaching you. Palashkahas also heard Maximitch say that he often sees you from afar in thesorties, and that you do not take care of yourself, nor think of thosewho pray God for you with tears.
"I was long ill, and when at last I recovered, Alexey Ivanytch, whocommands here in the room of my late father, forced Father Garasim tohand me over to him by threatening him with Pugatchef. I live under hisguardianship in our house. Alexey Ivanytch tries to oblige me to marryhim. He avers that he saved my life by not exposing AkoulinaPamphilovna's stratagem when she spoke of me to the robbers as herniece, but it would be easier to me to die than to become the wife of aman like Chvabrine. He treats me with great cruelty, and threatens, if Ido not change my mind, to bring me to the robber camp, where I shouldsuffer the fate of Elizabeth Kharloff.[62]
"I have begged Alexey Ivanytch to give me some time to think it over. Hehas given me three days; if at the end of that time I do not become hiswife I need expect no more consideration at his hands. Oh! my father,Petr' Andrejitch, you are my only stay. Defend me, a poor girl. Beg theGeneral and all your superiors to send us help as soon as possible, andcome yourself if you can.
"I remain, your submissive orphan,
"MARYA MIRONOFF."
I almost went mad when I read this letter. I rushed to the town,spurring without pity my poor horse. During the ride I turned over in mymind a thousand projects for rescuing the poor girl without being ableto decide on any. Arrived in the town I went straight to the General's,and I actually ran into his room. He was walking up and down, smokinghis meerschaum pipe. Upon seeing me he stood still; my appearancedoubtless struck him, for he questioned me with a kind of anxiety on thecause of my abrupt entry.
"Your excellency," said I, "I come to you as I would to my poor father.Do not reject my request; the happiness of my whole life is inquestion."
"What is all this, my father?" asked the astounded General. "What can Ido for you? Speak."
"Your excellency, allow me to take a battalion of soldiers and fiftyCossacks, and go and clear out Fort Belogorsk."
The General stared, thinking, probably, that I was out of my senses; andhe was not far wrong.
"How? What! what! Clear out Fort Belogorsk!" he said at last.
"I'll answer for success!" I rejoined, hotly. "Only let me go."
"No, young man," he said, shaking his head; "it is so far away. Theenemy would easily block all communication with the principal strategicpoint, which would quickly enable him to defeat you utterly anddecisively. A blocked communication, do you see?"
* * * * *
I took fright when I saw he was getting involved in a militarydissertation, and I made haste to interrupt him.
"The daughter of Captain Mironoff," I said, "has just written me aletter asking for help. Chvabrine is obliging her to become his wife."
"Indeed! Oh! this Chvabrine is a great rascal. If he falls into my handsI'll have him tried in twenty-four hours, and we will shoot him on theglacis of the fort. But in the meantime we must have patience."
"Have patience!" I cried, beside myself. "Between this and then he willill-treat Marya."
"Oh!" replied the General. "Still that would not be such a terriblemisfortune for her. It would be better for her to be the wife ofChvabrine, who can now protect her. And when we shall have shot him,then, with heaven's help, the betrothed will come together again. Prettylittle widows do not long remain single; I mean to say a widow moreeasily finds a husband."
"I'd rather die," I cried, furiously, "than leave her to Chvabrine."
"Ah! Bah!" said the old man, "I understand now. Probably you are in lovewith Marya Ivanofna. Then it is another thing. Poor boy! But still it isnot possible for me to give you a battalion and fifty Cossacks. Thisexpedition is unreasonable, and I cannot take it upon my ownresponsibility."
I bowed my head; despair overwhelmed me. All at once an idea flashedacross me, and what it was the reader will see in the next chapter, asthe old novelists used to say.
The Daughter of the Commandant Page 11
