I could
not get any letter from Belogorsk, for all the roads were blocked, and
the separation from Marya became unbearable.
not get any letter from Belogorsk, for all the roads were blocked, and
the separation from Marya became unbearable.
Pushkin - Daughter of the Commandant
"
It was now the turn of the officials to look mockingly at me. The
council broke up. I could not help deploring the weakness of the honest
soldier who, against his own judgment, had decided to abide by the
counsel of ignorant and inexperienced people.
Several days after this memorable council of war, Pugatchef, true to his
word, approached Orenburg. From the top of the city wall I took note of
the army of the rebels, and it seemed to me that their number had
increased tenfold since the last assault I had witnessed. They had also
artillery, which had been taken from the little forts which had fallen
before Pugatchef. As I recollected the decision of the council of war, I
foresaw a long imprisonment within the walls of Orenburg, and I was
ready to cry with vexation.
Far be from me any intention of describing the siege of Orenburg, which
belongs to history, and not to a family memoir. In a few words,
therefore, I shall say that in consequence of the bad arrangements of
the authorities, the siege was disastrous for the inhabitants, who were
forced to suffer hunger and privation of all kinds. Life at Orenburg was
becoming unendurable; each one awaited in anxiety the fate that should
befall him. All complained of the famine, which was, indeed, awful.
The inhabitants ended by becoming accustomed to the shells falling on
their houses. Even the assaults of Pugatchef no longer excited great
disturbance. I was dying of ennui. The time passed but slowly.
I could
not get any letter from Belogorsk, for all the roads were blocked, and
the separation from Marya became unbearable. My only occupation
consisted in my military rounds.
Thanks to Pugatchef, I had a pretty good horse, with which I shared my
scanty rations. Every day I passed beyond the ramparts, and I went and
fired away against the scouts of Pugatchef. In these sort of skirmishes
the rebels generally got the better of us, as they had plenty of food
and were capitally mounted.
Our thin, starved cavalry was unable to stand against them. Sometimes
our famished infantry took the field, but the depth of the snow
prevented action with any success against the flying cavalry of the
enemy. The artillery thundered vainly from the height of the ramparts,
and in the field guns could not work because of the weakness of the
worn-out horses. This is how we made war, and this is what the officials
of Orenburg called prudence and foresight.
One day, when we had succeeded in dispersing and driving before us a
rather numerous band, I came up with one of the hindmost Cossacks, and I
was about to strike him with my Turkish sabre when he took off his cap
and 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 back
yesterday. I have a letter for you. "
"Where is it?
It was now the turn of the officials to look mockingly at me. The
council broke up. I could not help deploring the weakness of the honest
soldier who, against his own judgment, had decided to abide by the
counsel of ignorant and inexperienced people.
Several days after this memorable council of war, Pugatchef, true to his
word, approached Orenburg. From the top of the city wall I took note of
the army of the rebels, and it seemed to me that their number had
increased tenfold since the last assault I had witnessed. They had also
artillery, which had been taken from the little forts which had fallen
before Pugatchef. As I recollected the decision of the council of war, I
foresaw a long imprisonment within the walls of Orenburg, and I was
ready to cry with vexation.
Far be from me any intention of describing the siege of Orenburg, which
belongs to history, and not to a family memoir. In a few words,
therefore, I shall say that in consequence of the bad arrangements of
the authorities, the siege was disastrous for the inhabitants, who were
forced to suffer hunger and privation of all kinds. Life at Orenburg was
becoming unendurable; each one awaited in anxiety the fate that should
befall him. All complained of the famine, which was, indeed, awful.
The inhabitants ended by becoming accustomed to the shells falling on
their houses. Even the assaults of Pugatchef no longer excited great
disturbance. I was dying of ennui. The time passed but slowly.
I could
not get any letter from Belogorsk, for all the roads were blocked, and
the separation from Marya became unbearable. My only occupation
consisted in my military rounds.
Thanks to Pugatchef, I had a pretty good horse, with which I shared my
scanty rations. Every day I passed beyond the ramparts, and I went and
fired away against the scouts of Pugatchef. In these sort of skirmishes
the rebels generally got the better of us, as they had plenty of food
and were capitally mounted.
Our thin, starved cavalry was unable to stand against them. Sometimes
our famished infantry took the field, but the depth of the snow
prevented action with any success against the flying cavalry of the
enemy. The artillery thundered vainly from the height of the ramparts,
and in the field guns could not work because of the weakness of the
worn-out horses. This is how we made war, and this is what the officials
of Orenburg called prudence and foresight.
One day, when we had succeeded in dispersing and driving before us a
rather numerous band, I came up with one of the hindmost Cossacks, and I
was about to strike him with my Turkish sabre when he took off his cap
and 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 back
yesterday. I have a letter for you. "
"Where is it?
