Kutúzov made a grimace and sent an order to Dokhtúrov to take over the command of the first army, and a request to the duke⁠—whom he said he could not spare at such an important moment⁠—to return to him. When they brought him news that Murat had been taken prisoner, and the staff officers congratulated him, Kutúzov smiled.

“Wait a little, gentlemen,” said he. “The battle is won, and there is nothing extraordinary in the capture of Murat. Still, it is better to wait before we rejoice.”

But he sent an adjutant to take the news round the army.

When Scherbínin came galloping from the left flank with news that the French had captured the flèches and the village of Semënovsk, Kutúzov, guessing by the sounds of the battle and by Scherbínin’s looks that the news was bad, rose as if to stretch his legs and, taking Scherbínin’s arm, led him aside.

“Go, my dear fellow,” he said to Ermólov, “and see whether something can’t be done.”