Everyone’s opinion was contrary to mine.  Those present vied with each other about the untrustworthiness of the troops, the uncertainty of success, the necessity of prudence, and so forth.  All were of opinion that it was better to stay behind a strong wall, their safety assured by cannon, than to tempt the fortune of war in the open field.

At last, when all the opinions had been given, the General shook the ashes out of his pipe and made the following speech:—­

“Gentlemen, I must tell you, for my part, I am entirely of the opinion of our friend the ensign, for this opinion is based on the precepts of good tactics, in which nearly always offensive movements are preferable to defensive ones.”  Here he paused a moment and filled his pipe.  My self-love was triumphant, and I cast a proud glance at the civil officials who were whispering among themselves, with an air of disquiet and discontent.  “But, gentlemen,” resumed the General, with a sigh, and puffing out a cloud of smoke, “I dare not take upon myself such a great responsibility, when the safety is in question of the provinces entrusted 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 should await in the town the siege which threatens us, and that we should defeat the attacks of the enemy by the force of artillery, and, if the possibility present itself, by well-directed sorties.”

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.