BOOK TWELVE: 1812
11. CHAPTER XI
From Prince Shcherbatov's house the prisoners were led straight down
the Virgin's Field, to the left of the nunnery, as far as a kitchen
garden in which a post had been set up. Beyond that post a fresh pit
had been dug in the ground, and near the post and the pit a large
crowd stood in a semicircle. The crowd consisted of a few Russians and
many of Napoleon's soldiers who were not on duty- Germans, Italians,
and Frenchmen, in a variety of uniforms. To the right and left of
the post stood rows of French troops in blue uniforms with red
epaulets and high boots and shakos.
The prisoners were placed in a certain order, according to the
list (Pierre was sixth), and were led to the post. Several drums
suddenly began to beat on both sides of them, and at that sound Pierre
felt as if part of his soul had been torn away. He lost the power of
thinking or understanding. He could only hear and see. And he had only
one wish- that the frightful thing that had to happen should happen
quickly. Pierre looked round at his fellow prisoners and scrutinized
them.
The two first were convicts with shaven heads. One was tall and
thin, the other dark, shaggy, and sinewy, with a flat nose. The
third was a domestic serf, about forty-five years old, with grizzled
hair and a plump, well-nourished body. The fourth was a peasant, a
very handsome man with a broad, light-brown beard and black eyes.
The fifth was a factory hand, a thin, sallow-faced lad of eighteen
in a loose coat.
Pierre heard the French consulting whether to shoot them
separately or two at a time. "In couples," replied the officer in
command in a calm voice. There was a stir in the ranks of the soldiers
and it was evident that they were all hurrying- not as men hurry to do
something they understand, but as people hurry to finish a necessary
but unpleasant and incomprehensible task.
A French official wearing a scarf came up to the right of the row of
prisoners and read out the sentence in Russian and in French.
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