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diff --git a/data/samples/minimal/war_and_peace.leo_tolstoy.sst b/data/samples/minimal/war_and_peace.leo_tolstoy.sst new file mode 100644 index 0000000..a305ce0 --- /dev/null +++ b/data/samples/minimal/war_and_peace.leo_tolstoy.sst @@ -0,0 +1,64867 @@ +% SiSU 0.72 + +@title: War and Peace + +@creator: + :author: Tolstoy, Leo + :translator: Maude, Aylmer; Maude, Louise Shanks + +@classify: + :type: Book + :topic_register: SiSU:markup sample:book;book:novel:historical romance|war novel;Russian:original text;original text language:Russian + :pg: 2600 + +% @rights: + +@date: + :published: 1869 + :created: 1865 + :issued: 1865 + :available: 1865 + :modified: 1869 + :added_to_site: 2004-04-12 + +% @date.translated: + +% @language: +% :document: English +% :original: Russian + +@vocabulary: none + +@make: + :headings: none; BOOK|FIRST|SECOND; none; CHAPTER; + :breaks: new=:C; break=1 + +@links: { Wikipedia entry }http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/War_and_peace +{ War and Peace @ SiSU }http://www.jus.uio.no/sisu/war.and.peace.leo.tolstoy + +% SiSU: http://www.jus.uio.no/sisu +% SiSU markup for 0.16 and later +% SiSU markup: http://www.jus.uio.no/sisu/sample +% Output: http://www.jus.uio.no/sisu/war_and_peace.leo_tolstoy + +:A~ @title @creator + +BOOK ONE: 1805 + +CHAPTER I + +"Well, Prince, so Genoa and Lucca are now just family estates of the +Buonapartes. But I warn you, if you don't tell me that this means war, +if you still try to defend the infamies and horrors perpetrated by +that Antichrist- I really believe he is Antichrist- I will have +nothing more to do with you and you are no longer my friend, no longer +my 'faithful slave,' as you call yourself! But how do you do? I see +I have frightened you- sit down and tell me all the news." + +It was in July, 1805, and the speaker was the well-known Anna +Pavlovna Scherer, maid of honor and favorite of the Empress Marya +Fedorovna. With these words she greeted Prince Vasili Kuragin, a man +of high rank and importance, who was the first to arrive at her +reception. Anna Pavlovna had had a cough for some days. She was, as +she said, suffering from la grippe; grippe being then a new word in +St. Petersburg, used only by the elite. + +All her invitations without exception, written in French, and +delivered by a scarlet-liveried footman that morning, ran as follows: + +"If you have nothing better to do, Count [or Prince], and if the +prospect of spending an evening with a poor invalid is not too +terrible, I shall be very charmed to see you tonight between 7 and 10- +Annette Scherer." + +"Heavens! what a virulent attack!" replied the prince, not in the +least disconcerted by this reception. He had just entered, wearing +an embroidered court uniform, knee breeches, and shoes, and had +stars on his breast and a serene expression on his flat face. He spoke +in that refined French in which our grandfathers not only spoke but +thought, and with the gentle, patronizing intonation natural to a +man of importance who had grown old in society and at court. He went +up to Anna Pavlovna, kissed her hand, presenting to her his bald, +scented, and shining head, and complacently seated himself on the +sofa. + +"First of all, dear friend, tell me how you are. Set your friend's +mind at rest," said he without altering his tone, beneath the +politeness and affected sympathy of which indifference and even +irony could be discerned. + +"Can one be well while suffering morally? Can one be calm in times +like these if one has any feeling?" said Anna Pavlovna. "You are +staying the whole evening, I hope?" + +"And the fete at the English ambassador's? Today is Wednesday. I +must put in an appearance there," said the prince. "My daughter is +coming for me to take me there." + +"I thought today's fete had been canceled. I confess all these +festivities and fireworks are becoming wearisome." + +"If they had known that you wished it, the entertainment would +have been put off," said the prince, who, like a wound-up clock, by +force of habit said things he did not even wish to be believed. + +"Don't tease! Well, and what has been decided about Novosiltsev's +dispatch? You know everything." + +"What can one say about it?" replied the prince in a cold, +listless tone. "What has been decided? They have decided that +Buonaparte has burnt his boats, and I believe that we are ready to +burn ours." + +Prince Vasili always spoke languidly, like an actor repeating a +stale part. Anna Pavlovna Scherer on the contrary, despite her forty +years, overflowed with animation and impulsiveness. To be an +enthusiast had become her social vocation and, sometimes even when she +did not feel like it, she became enthusiastic in order not to +disappoint the expectations of those who knew her. The subdued smile +which, though it did not suit her faded features, always played +round her lips expressed, as in a spoiled child, a continual +consciousness of her charming defect, which she neither wished, nor +could, nor considered it necessary, to correct. + +In the midst of a conversation on political matters Anna Pavlovna +burst out: + +"Oh, don't speak to me of Austria. Perhaps I don't understand +things, but Austria never has wished, and does not wish, for war. +She is betraying us! Russia alone must save Europe. Our gracious +sovereign recognizes his high vocation and will be true to it. That is +the one thing I have faith in! Our good and wonderful sovereign has to +perform the noblest role on earth, and he is so virtuous and noble +that God will not forsake him. He will fulfill his vocation and +crush the hydra of revolution, which has become more terrible than +ever in the person of this murderer and villain! We alone must +avenge the blood of the just one.... Whom, I ask you, can we rely +on?... England with her commercial spirit will not and cannot +understand the Emperor Alexander's loftiness of soul. She has +refused to evacuate Malta. She wanted to find, and still seeks, some +secret motive in our actions. What answer did Novosiltsev get? None. +The English have not understood and cannot understand the +self-abnegation of our Emperor who wants nothing for himself, but only +desires the good of mankind. And what have they promised? Nothing! And +what little they have promised they will not perform! Prussia has +always declared that Buonaparte is invincible, and that all Europe +is powerless before him.... And I don't believe a word that Hardenburg +says, or Haugwitz either. This famous Prussian neutrality is just a +trap. I have faith only in God and the lofty destiny of our adored +monarch. He will save Europe!" + +She suddenly paused, smiling at her own impetuosity. + +"I think," said the prince with a smile, "that if you had been +sent instead of our dear Wintzingerode you would have captured the +King of Prussia's consent by assault. You are so eloquent. Will you +give me a cup of tea?" + +"In a moment. A propos," she added, becoming calm again, "I am +expecting two very interesting men tonight, le Vicomte de Mortemart, +who is connected with the Montmorencys through the Rohans, one of +the best French families. He is one of the genuine emigres, the good +ones. And also the Abbe Morio. Do you know that profound thinker? He +has been received by the Emperor. Had you heard?" + +"I shall be delighted to meet them," said the prince. "But tell me," +he added with studied carelessness as if it had only just occurred +to him, though the question he was about to ask was the chief motive +of his visit, "is it true that the Dowager Empress wants Baron Funke +to be appointed first secretary at Vienna? The baron by all accounts +is a poor creature." + +Prince Vasili wished to obtain this post for his son, but others +were trying through the Dowager Empress Marya Fedorovna to secure it +for the baron. + +Anna Pavlovna almost closed her eyes to indicate that neither she +nor anyone else had a right to criticize what the Empress desired or +was pleased with. + +"Baron Funke has been recommended to the Dowager Empress by her +sister," was all she said, in a dry and mournful tone. + +As she named the Empress, Anna Pavlovna's face suddenly assumed an +expression of profound and sincere devotion and respect mingled with +sadness, and this occurred every time she mentioned her illustrious +patroness. She added that Her Majesty had deigned to show Baron +Funke beaucoup d'estime, and again her face clouded over with sadness. + +The prince was silent and looked indifferent. But, with the +womanly and courtierlike quickness and tact habitual to her, Anna +Pavlovna wished both to rebuke him (for daring to speak he had done of +a man recommended to the Empress) and at the same time to console him, +so she said: + +"Now about your family. Do you know that since your daughter came +out everyone has been enraptured by her? They say she is amazingly +beautiful." + +The prince bowed to signify his respect and gratitude. + +"I often think," she continued after a short pause, drawing nearer +to the prince and smiling amiably at him as if to show that +political and social topics were ended and the time had come for +intimate conversation- "I often think how unfairly sometimes the +joys of life are distributed. Why has fate given you two such splendid +children? I don't speak of Anatole, your youngest. I don't like +him," she added in a tone admitting of no rejoinder and raising her +eyebrows. "Two such charming children. And really you appreciate +them less than anyone, and so you don't deserve to have them." + +And she smiled her ecstatic smile. + +"I can't help it," said the prince. "Lavater would have said I +lack the bump of paternity." + +"Don't joke; I mean to have a serious talk with you. Do you know I +am dissatisfied with your younger son? Between ourselves" (and her +face assumed its melancholy expression), "he was mentioned at Her +Majesty's and you were pitied...." + +The prince answered nothing, but she looked at him significantly, +awaiting a reply. He frowned. + +"What would you have me do?" he said at last. "You know I did all +a father could for their education, and they have both turned out +fools. Hippolyte is at least a quiet fool, but Anatole is an active +one. That is the only difference between them." He said this smiling +in a way more natural and animated than usual, so that the wrinkles +round his mouth very clearly revealed something unexpectedly coarse +and unpleasant. + +"And why are children born to such men as you? If you were not a +father there would be nothing I could reproach you with," said Anna +Pavlovna, looking up pensively. + +"I am your faithful slave and to you alone I can confess that my +children are the bane of my life. It is the cross I have to bear. That +is how I explain it to myself. It can't be helped!" + +He said no more, but expressed his resignation to cruel fate by a +gesture. Anna Pavlovna meditated. + +"Have you never thought of marrying your prodigal son Anatole?" +she asked. "They say old maids have a mania for matchmaking, and +though I don't feel that weakness in myself as yet,I know a little +person who is very unhappy with her father. She is a relation of +yours, Princess Mary Bolkonskaya." + +Prince Vasili did not reply, though, with the quickness of memory +and perception befitting a man of the world, he indicated by a +movement of the head that he was considering this information. + +"Do you know," he said at last, evidently unable to check the sad +current of his thoughts, "that Anatole is costing me forty thousand +rubles a year? And," he went on after a pause, "what will it be in +five years, if he goes on like this?" Presently he added: "That's what +we fathers have to put up with.... Is this princess of yours rich?" + +"Her father is very rich and stingy. He lives in the country. He +is the well-known Prince Bolkonski who had to retire from the army +under the late Emperor, and was nicknamed 'the King of Prussia.' He is +very clever but eccentric, and a bore. The poor girl is very +unhappy. She has a brother; I think you know him, he married Lise +Meinen lately. He is an aide-de-camp of Kutuzov's and will be here +tonight." + +"Listen, dear Annette," said the prince, suddenly taking Anna +Pavlovna's hand and for some reason drawing it downwards. "Arrange +that affair for me and I shall always be your most devoted slave- +slafe wigh an f, as a village elder of mine writes in his reports. She +is rich and of good family and that's all I want." + +And with the familiarity and easy grace peculiar to him, he raised +the maid of honor's hand to his lips, kissed it, and swung it to and +fro as he lay back in his armchair, looking in another direction. + +"Attendez," said Anna Pavlovna, reflecting, "I'll speak to Lise, +young Bolkonski's wife, this very evening, and perhaps the thing can +be arranged. It shall be on your family's behalf that I'll start my +apprenticeship as old maid." + +CHAPTER II + +Anna Pavlovna's drawing room was gradually filling. The highest +Petersburg society was assembled there: people differing widely in age +and character but alike in the social circle to which they belonged. +Prince Vasili's daughter, the beautiful Helene, came to take her +father to the ambassador's entertainment; she wore a ball dress and +her badge as maid of honor. The youthful little Princess +Bolkonskaya, known as la femme la plus seduisante de Petersbourg,~^ was +also there. She had been married during the previous winter, and being +pregnant did not go to any large gatherings, but only to small +receptions. Prince Vasili's son, Hippolyte, had come with Mortemart, +whom he introduced. The Abbe Morio and many others had also come. + +^~ The most fascinating woman in Petersburg. + +To each new arrival Anna Pavlovna said, "You have not yet seen my +aunt," or "You do not know my aunt?" and very gravely conducted him or +her to a little old lady, wearing large bows of ribbon in her cap, who +had come sailing in from another room as soon as the guests began to +arrive; and slowly turning her eyes from the visitor to her aunt, Anna +Pavlovna mentioned each one's name and then left them. + +Each visitor performed the ceremony of greeting this old aunt whom +not one of them knew, not one of them wanted to know, and not one of +them cared about; Anna Pavlovna observed these greetings with mournful +and solemn interest and silent approval. The aunt spoke to each of +them in the same words, about their health and her own, and the health +of Her Majesty, "who, thank God, was better today." And each +visitor, though politeness prevented his showing impatience, left +the old woman with a sense of relief at having performed a vexatious +duty and did not return to her the whole evening. + +The young Princess Bolkonskaya had brought some work in a +gold-embroidered velvet bag. Her pretty little upper lip, on which a +delicate dark down was just perceptible, was too short for her +teeth, but it lifted all the more sweetly, and was especially charming +when she occasionally drew it down to meet the lower lip. As is always +the case with a thoroughly attractive woman, her defect- the shortness +of her upper lip and her half-open mouth- seemed to be her own special +and peculiar form of beauty. Everyone brightened at the sight of +this pretty young woman, so soon to become a mother, so full of life +and health, and carrying her burden so lightly. Old men and dull +dispirited young ones who looked at her, after being in her company +and talking to her a little while, felt as if they too were +becoming, like her, full of life and health. All who talked to her, +and at each word saw her bright smile and the constant gleam of her +white teeth, thought that they were in a specially amiable mood that +day. + +The little princess went round the table with quick, short, +swaying steps, her workbag on her arm, and gaily spreading out her +dress sat down on a sofa near the silver samovar, as if all she was +doing was a pleasure to herself and to all around her. "I have brought +my work," said she in French, displaying her bag and addressing all +present. "Mind, Annette, I hope you have not played a wicked trick +on me," she added, turning to her hostess. "You wrote that it was to +be quite a small reception, and just see how badly I am dressed." +And she spread out her arms to show her short-waisted, lace-trimmed, +dainty gray dress, girdled with a broad ribbon just below the breast. + +"Soyez tranquille, Lise, you will always be prettier than anyone +else," replied Anna Pavlovna. + +"You know," said the princess in the same tone of voice and still in +French, turning to a general, "my husband is deserting me? He is going +to get himself killed. Tell me what this wretched war is for?" she +added, addressing Prince Vasili, and without waiting for an answer she +turned to speak to his daughter, the beautiful Helene. + +"What a delightful woman this little princess is!" said Prince +Vasili to Anna Pavlovna. + +One of the next arrivals was a stout, heavily built young man with +close-cropped hair, spectacles, the light-colored breeches fashionable +at that time, a very high ruffle, and a brown dress coat. This stout +young man was an illegitimate son of Count Bezukhov, a well-known +grandee of Catherine's time who now lay dying in Moscow. The young man +had not yet entered either the military or civil service, as he had +only just returned from abroad where he had been educated, and this +was his first appearance in society. Anna Pavlovna greeted him with +the nod she accorded to the lowest hierarchy in her drawing room. +But in spite of this lowest-grade greeting, a look of anxiety and +fear, as at the sight of something too large and unsuited to the +place, came over her face when she saw Pierre enter. Though he was +certainly rather bigger than the other men in the room, her anxiety +could only have reference to the clever though shy, but observant +and natural, expression which distinguished him from everyone else +in that drawing room. + +"It is very good of you, Monsieur Pierre, to come and visit a poor +invalid," said Anna Pavlovna, exchanging an alarmed glance with her +aunt as she conducted him to her. + +Pierre murmured something unintelligible, and continued to look +round as if in search of something. On his way to the aunt he bowed to +the little princess with a pleased smile, as to an intimate +acquaintance. + +Anna Pavlovna's alarm was justified, for Pierre turned away from the +aunt without waiting to hear her speech about Her Majesty's health. +Anna Pavlovna in dismay detained him with the words: "Do you know +the Abbe Morio? He is a most interesting man." + +"Yes, I have heard of his scheme for perpetual peace, and it is very +interesting but hardly feasible." + +"You think so?" rejoined Anna Pavlovna in order to say something and +get away to attend to her duties as hostess. But Pierre now +committed a reverse act of impoliteness. First he had left a lady +before she had finished speaking to him, and now he continued to speak +to another who wished to get away. With his head bent, and his big +feet spread apart, he began explaining his reasons for thinking the +abbe's plan chimerical. + +"We will talk of it later," said Anna Pavlovna with a smile. + +And having got rid of this young man who did not know how to behave, +she resumed her duties as hostess and continued to listen and watch, +ready to help at any point where the conversation might happen to +flag. As the foreman of a spinning mill, when he has set the hands +to work, goes round and notices here a spindle that has stopped or +there one that creaks or makes more noise than it should, and +hastens to check the machine or set it in proper motion, so Anna +Pavlovna moved about her drawing room, approaching now a silent, now a +too-noisy group, and by a word or slight rearrangement kept the +conversational machine in steady, proper, and regular motion. But amid +these cares her anxiety about Pierre was evident. She kept an +anxious watch on him when he approached the group round Mortemart to +listen to what was being said there, and again when he passed to +another group whose center was the abbe. + +Pierre had been educated abroad, and this reception at Anna +Pavlovna's was the first he had attended in Russia. He knew that all +the intellectual lights of Petersburg were gathered there and, like +a child in a toyshop, did not know which way to look, afraid of +missing any clever conversation that was to be heard. Seeing the +self-confident and refined expression on the faces of those present he +was always expecting to hear something very profound. At last he +came up to Morio. Here the conversation seemed interesting and he +stood waiting for an opportunity to express his own views, as young +people are fond of doing. + +CHAPTER III + +Anna Pavlovna's reception was in full swing. The spindles hummed +steadily and ceaselessly on all sides. With the exception of the aunt, +beside whom sat only one elderly lady, who with her thin careworn face +was rather out of place in this brilliant society, the whole company +had settled into three groups. One, chiefly masculine, had formed +round the abbe. Another, of young people, was grouped round the +beautiful Princess Helene, Prince Vasili's daughter, and the little +Princess Bolkonskaya, very pretty and rosy, though rather too plump +for her age. The third group was gathered round Mortemart and Anna +Pavlovna. + +The vicomte was a nice-looking young man with soft features and +polished manners, who evidently considered himself a celebrity but out +of politeness modestly placed himself at the disposal of the circle in +which he found himself. Anna Pavlovna was obviously serving him up +as a treat to her guests. As a clever maitre d'hotel serves up as a +specially choice delicacy a piece of meat that no one who had seen +it in the kitchen would have cared to eat, so Anna Pavlovna served +up to her guests, first the vicomte and then the abbe, as peculiarly +choice morsels. The group about Mortemart immediately began discussing +the murder of the Duc d'Enghien. The vicomte said that the Duc +d'Enghien had perished by his own magnanimity, and that there were +particular reasons for Buonaparte's hatred of him. + +"Ah, yes! Do tell us all about it, Vicomte," said Anna Pavlovna, +with a pleasant feeling that there was something a la Louis XV in +the sound of that sentence: "Contez nous cela, Vicomte." + +The vicomte bowed and smiled courteously in token of his willingness +to comply. Anna Pavlovna arranged a group round him, inviting everyone +to listen to his tale. + +"The vicomte knew the duc personally," whispered Anna Pavlovna to of +the guests. "The vicomte is a wonderful raconteur," said she to +another. "How evidently he belongs to the best society," said she to a +third; and the vicomte was served up to the company in the choicest +and most advantageous style, like a well-garnished joint of roast beef +on a hot dish. + +The vicomte wished to begin his story and gave a subtle smile. + +"Come over here, Helene, dear," said Anna Pavlovna to the +beautiful young princess who was sitting some way off, the center of +another group. + +The princess smiled. She rose with the same unchanging smile with +which she had first entered the room- the smile of a perfectly +beautiful woman. With a slight rustle of her white dress trimmed +with moss and ivy, with a gleam of white shoulders, glossy hair, and +sparkling diamonds, she passed between the men who made way for her, +not looking at any of them but smiling on all, as if graciously +allowing each the privilege of admiring her beautiful figure and +shapely shoulders, back, and bosom- which in the fashion of those days +were very much exposed- and she seemed to bring the glamour of a +ballroom with her as she moved toward Anna Pavlovna. Helene was so +lovely that not only did she not show any trace of coquetry, but on +the contrary she even appeared shy of her unquestionable and all too +victorious beauty. She seemed to wish, but to be unable, to diminish +its effect. + +"How lovely!" said everyone who saw her; and the vicomte lifted +his shoulders and dropped his eyes as if startled by something +extraordinary when she took her seat opposite and beamed upon him also +with her unchanging smile. + +"Madame, I doubt my ability before such an audience," said he, +smilingly inclining his head. + +The princess rested her bare round arm on a little table and +considered a reply unnecessary. She smilingly waited. All the time the +story was being told she sat upright, glancing now at her beautiful +round arm, altered in shape by its pressure on the table, now at her +still more beautiful bosom, on which she readjusted a diamond +necklace. From time to time she smoothed the folds of her dress, and +whenever the story produced an effect she glanced at Anna Pavlovna, at +once adopted just the expression she saw on the maid of honor's +face, and again relapsed into her radiant smile. + +The little princess had also left the tea table and followed Helene. + +"Wait a moment, I'll get my work.... Now then, what are you thinking +of?" she went on, turning to Prince Hippolyte. "Fetch me my workbag." + +There was a general movement as the princess, smiling and talking +merrily to everyone at once, sat down and gaily arranged herself in +her seat. + +"Now I am all right," she said, and asking the vicomte to begin, she +took up her work. + +Prince Hippolyte, having brought the workbag, joined the circle +and moving a chair close to hers seated himself beside her. + +Le charmant Hippolyte was surprising by his extraordinary +resemblance to his beautiful sister, but yet more by the fact that +in spite of this resemblance he was exceedingly ugly. His features +were like his sister's, but while in her case everything was lit up by +a joyous, self-satisfied, youthful, and constant smile of animation, +and by the wonderful classic beauty of her figure, his face on the +contrary was dulled by imbecility and a constant expression of +sullen self-confidence, while his body was thin and weak. His eyes, +nose, and mouth all seemed puckered into a vacant, wearied grimace, +and his arms and legs always fell into unnatural positions. + +"It's not going to be a ghost story?" said he, sitting down beside +the princess and hastily adjusting his lorgnette, as if without this +instrument he could not begin to speak. + +"Why no, my dear fellow," said the astonished narrator, shrugging +his shoulders. + +"Because I hate ghost stories," said Prince Hippolyte in a tone +which showed that he only understood the meaning of his words after he +had uttered them. + +He spoke with such self-confidence that his hearers could not be +sure whether what he said was very witty or very stupid. He was +dressed in a dark-green dress coat, knee breeches of the color of +cuisse de nymphe effrayee, as he called it, shoes, and silk stockings. + +The vicomte told his tale very neatly. It was an anecdote, then +current, to the effect that the Duc d'Enghien had gone secretly to +Paris to visit Mademoiselle George; that at her house he came upon +Bonaparte, who also enjoyed the famous actress' favors, and that in +his presence Napoleon happened to fall into one of the fainting fits +to which he was subject, and was thus at the duc's mercy. The latter +spared him, and this magnanimity Bonaparte subsequently repaid by +death. + +The story was very pretty and interesting, especially at the point +where the rivals suddenly recognized one another; and the ladies +looked agitated. + +"Charming!" said Anna Pavlovna with an inquiring glance at the +little princess. + +"Charming!" whispered the little princess, sticking the needle +into her work as if to testify that the interest and fascination of +the story prevented her from going on with it. + +The vicomte appreciated this silent praise and smiling gratefully +prepared to continue, but just then Anna Pavlovna, who had kept a +watchful eye on the young man who so alarmed her, noticed that he +was talking too loudly and vehemently with the abbe, so she hurried to +the rescue. Pierre had managed to start a conversation with the abbe +about the balance of power, and the latter, evidently interested by +the young man's simple-minded eagerness, was explaining his pet +theory. Both were talking and listening too eagerly and too naturally, +which was why Anna Pavlovna disapproved. + +"The means are... the balance of power in Europe and the rights of +the people," the abbe was saying. "It is only necessary for one +powerful nation like Russia- barbaric as she is said to be- to place +herself disinterestedly at the head of an alliance having for its +object the maintenance of the balance of power of Europe, and it would +save the world!" + +"But how are you to get that balance?" Pierre was beginning. + +At that moment Anna Pavlovna came up and, looking severely at +Pierre, asked the Italian how he stood Russian climate. The +Italian's face instantly changed and assumed an offensively +affected, sugary expression, evidently habitual to him when conversing +with women. + +"I am so enchanted by the brilliancy of the wit and culture of the +society, more especially of the feminine society, in which I have +had the honor of being received, that I have not yet had time to think +of the climate," said he. + +Not letting the abbe and Pierre escape, Anna Pavlovna, the more +conveniently to keep them under observation, brought them into the +larger circle. + +CHAPTER IV + +Just them another visitor entered the drawing room: Prince Andrew +Bolkonski, the little princess' husband. He was a very handsome +young man, of medium height, with firm, clearcut features. +Everything about him, from his weary, bored expression to his quiet, +measured step, offered a most striking contrast to his quiet, little +wife. It was evident that he not only knew everyone in the drawing +room, but had found them to be so tiresome that it wearied him to look +at or listen to them. And among all these faces that he found so +tedious, none seemed to bore him so much as that of his pretty wife. +He turned away from her with a grimace that distorted his handsome +face, kissed Anna Pavlovna's hand, and screwing up his eyes scanned +the whole company. + +"You are off to the war, Prince?" said Anna Pavlovna. + +"General Kutuzov," said Bolkonski, speaking French and stressing the +last syllable of the general's name like a Frenchman, "has been +pleased to take me as an aide-de-camp...." + +"And Lise, your wife?" + +"She will go to the country." + +"Are you not ashamed to deprive us of your charming wife?" + +"Andre," said his wife, addressing her husband in the same +coquettish manner in which she spoke to other men, "the vicomte has +been telling us such a tale about Mademoiselle George and Buonaparte!" + +Prince Andrew screwed up his eyes and turned away. Pierre, who +from the moment Prince Andrew entered the room had watched him with +glad, affectionate eyes, now came up and took his arm. Before he +looked round Prince Andrew frowned again, expressing his annoyance +with whoever was touching his arm, but when he saw Pierre's beaming +face he gave him an unexpectedly kind and pleasant smile. + +"There now!... So you, too, are in the great world?" said he to +Pierre. + +"I knew you would be here," replied Pierre. "I will come to supper +with you. May I?" he added in a low voice so as not to disturb the +vicomte who was continuing his story. + +"No, impossible!" said Prince Andrew, laughing and pressing Pierre's +hand to show that there was no need to ask the question. He wished +to say something more, but at that moment Prince Vasili and his +daughter got up to go and the two young men rose to let them pass. + +"You must excuse me, dear Vicomte," said Prince Vasili to the +Frenchman, holding him down by the sleeve in a friendly way to prevent +his rising. "This unfortunate fete at the ambassador's deprives me +of a pleasure, and obliges me to interrupt you. I am very sorry to +leave your enchanting party," said he, turning to Anna Pavlovna. + +His daughter, Princess Helene, passed between the chairs, lightly +holding up the folds of her dress, and the smile shone still more +radiantly on her beautiful face. Pierre gazed at her with rapturous, +almost frightened, eyes as she passed him. + +"Very lovely," said Prince Andrew. + +"Very," said Pierre. + +In passing Prince Vasili seized Pierre's hand and said to Anna +Pavlovna: "Educate this bear for me! He has been staying with me a +whole month and this is the first time I have seen him in society. +Nothing is so necessary for a young man as the society of clever +women." + +Anna Pavlovna smiled and promised to take Pierre in hand. She knew +his father to be a connection of Prince Vasili's. The elderly lady who +had been sitting with the old aunt rose hurriedly and overtook +Prince Vasili in the anteroom. All the affectation of interest she had +assumed had left her kindly and tearworn face and it now expressed +only anxiety and fear. + +"How about my son Boris, Prince?" said she, hurrying after him +into the anteroom. "I can't remain any longer in Petersburg. Tell me +what news I may take back to my poor boy." + +Although Prince Vasili listened reluctantly and not very politely to +the elderly lady, even betraying some impatience, she gave him an +ingratiating and appealing smile, and took his hand that he might +not go away. + +"What would it cost you to say a word to the Emperor, and then he +would be transferred to the Guards at once?" said she. + +"Believe me, Princess, I am ready to do all I can," answered +Prince Vasili, "but it is difficult for me to ask the Emperor. I +should advise you to appeal to Rumyantsev through Prince Golitsyn. +That would be the best way." + +The elderly lady was a Princess Drubetskaya, belonging to one of the +best families in Russia, but she was poor, and having long been out of +society had lost her former influential connections. She had now +come to Petersburg to procure an appointment in the Guards for her +only son. It was, in fact, solely to meet Prince Vasili that she had +obtained an invitation to Anna Pavlovna's reception and had sat +listening to the vicomte's story. Prince Vasili's words frightened +her, an embittered look clouded her once handsome face, but only for a +moment; then she smiled again and dutched Prince Vasili's arm more +tightly. + +"Listen to me, Prince," said she. "I have never yet asked you for +anything and I never will again, nor have I ever reminded you of my +father's friendship for you; but now I entreat you for God's sake to +do this for my son- and I shall always regard you as a benefactor," +she added hurriedly. "No, don't be angry, but promise! I have asked +Golitsyn and he has refused. Be the kindhearted man you always +were," she said, trying to smile though tears were in her eyes. + +"Papa, we shall be late," said Princess Helene, turning her +beautiful head and looking over her classically molded shoulder as she +stood waiting by the door. + +Influence in society, however, is a capital which has to be +economized if it is to last. Prince Vasili knew this, and having +once realized that if he asked on behalf of all who begged of him, +he would soon be unable to ask for himself, he became chary of using +his influence. But in Princess Drubetskaya's case he felt, after her +second appeal, something like qualms of conscience. She had reminded +him of what was quite true; he had been indebted to her father for the +first steps in his career. Moreover, he could see by her manners +that she was one of those women- mostly mothers- who, having once made +up their minds, will not rest until they have gained their end, and +are prepared if necessary to go on insisting day after day and hour +after hour, and even to make scenes. This last consideration moved +him. + +"My dear Anna Mikhaylovna," said he with his usual familiarity and +weariness of tone, "it is almost impossible for me to do what you ask; +but to prove my devotion to you and how I respect your father's +memory, I will do the impossible- your son shall be transferred to the +Guards. Here is my hand on it. Are you satisfied?" + +"My dear benefactor! This is what I expected from you- I knew your +kindness!" He turned to go. + +"Wait- just a word! When he has been transferred to the Guards..." +she faltered. "You are on good terms with Michael Ilarionovich +Kutuzov... recommend Boris to him as adjutant! Then I shall be at +rest, and then..." + +Prince Vasili smiled. + +"No, I won't promise that. You don't know how Kutuzov is pestered +since his appointment as Commander in Chief. He told me himself that +all the Moscow ladies have conspired to give him all their sons as +adjutants." + +"No, but do promise! I won't let you go! My dear benefactor..." + +"Papa," said his beautiful daughter in the same tone as before, +"we shall be late." + +"Well, au revoir! Good-by! You hear her?" + +"Then tomorrow you will speak to the Emperor?" + +"Certainly; but about Kutuzov, I don't promise." + +"Do promise, do promise, Vasili!" cried Anna Mikhaylovna as he went, +with the smile of a coquettish girl, which at one time probably came +naturally to her, but was now very ill-suited to her careworn face. + +Apparently she had forgotten her age and by force of habit +employed all the old feminine arts. But as soon as the prince had gone +her face resumed its former cold, artificial expression. She +returned to the group where the vicomte was still talking, and again +pretended to listen, while waiting till it would be time to leave. Her +task was accomplished. + +CHAPTER V + +"And what do you think of this latest comedy, the coronation at +Milan?" asked Anna Pavlovna, "and of the comedy of the people of Genoa +and Lucca laying their petitions before Monsieur Buonaparte, and +Monsieur Buonaparte sitting on a throne and granting the petitions +of the nations? Adorable! It is enough to make one's head whirl! It is +as if the whole world had gone crazy." + +Prince Andrew looked Anna Pavlovna straight in the face with a +sarcastic smile. + +"'Dieu me la donne, gare a qui la touche!'~^ They say he was very +fine when he said that," he remarked, repeating the words in +Italian: "'Dio mi l'ha dato. Guai a chi la tocchi!'" + +^~ God has given it to me, let him who touches it beware! + +"I hope this will prove the last drop that will make the glass run +over," Anna Pavlovna continued. "The sovereigns will not be able to +endure this man who is a menace to everything." + +"The sovereigns? I do not speak of Russia," said the vicomte, polite +but hopeless: "The sovereigns, madame... What have they done for Louis +XVII, for the Queen, or for Madame Elizabeth? Nothing!" and he +became more animated. "And believe me, they are reaping the reward +of their betrayal of the Bourbon cause. The sovereigns! Why, they +are sending ambassadors to compliment the usurper." + +And sighing disdainfully, he again changed his position. + +Prince Hippolyte, who had been gazing at the vicomte for some time +through his lorgnette, suddenly turned completely round toward the +little princess, and having asked for a needle began tracing the Conde +coat of arms on the table. He explained this to her with as much +gravity as if she had asked him to do it. + +"Baton de gueules, engrele de gueules d' azur- maison Conde," said +he. + +The princess listened, smiling. + +"If Buonaparte remains on the throne of France a year longer," the +vicomte continued, with the air of a man who, in a matter with which +he is better acquainted than anyone else, does not listen to others +but follows the current of his own thoughts, "things will have gone +too far. By intrigues, violence, exile, and executions, French +society- I mean good French society- will have been forever destroyed, +and then..." + +He shrugged his shoulders and spread out his hands. Pierre wished to +make a remark, for the conversation interested him, but Anna Pavlovna, +who had him under observation, interrupted: + +"The Emperor Alexander," said she, with the melancholy which +always accompanied any reference of hers to the Imperial family, +"has declared that he will leave it to the French people themselves to +choose their own form of government; and I believe that once free from +the usurper, the whole nation will certainly throw itself into the +arms of its rightful king," she concluded, trying to be amiable to the +royalist emigrant. + +"That is doubtful," said Prince Andrew. "Monsieur le Vicomte quite +rightly supposes that matters have already gone too far. I think it +will be difficult to return to the old regime." + +"From what I have heard," said Pierre, blushing and breaking into +the conversation, "almost all the aristocracy has already gone over to +Bonaparte's side." + +"It is the Buonapartists who say that," replied the vicomte +without looking at Pierre. "At the present time it is difficult to +know the real state of French public opinion. + +"Bonaparte has said so," remarked Prince Andrew with a sarcastic +smile. + +It was evident that he did not like the vicomte and was aiming his +remarks at him, though without looking at him. + +"'I showed them the path to glory, but they did not follow it,'" +Prince Andrew continued after a short silence, again quoting +Napoleon's words. "'I opened my antechambers and they crowded in.' I +do not know how far he was justified in saying so." + +"Not in the least," replied the vicomte. "After the murder of the +duc even the most partial ceased to regard him as a hero. If to some +people," he went on, turning to Anna Pavlovna, "he ever was a hero, +after the murder of the duc there was one martyr more in heaven and +one hero less on earth." + +Before Anna Pavlovna and the others had time to smile their +appreciation of the vicomte's epigram, Pierre again broke into the +conversation, and though Anna Pavlovna felt sure he would say +something inappropriate, she was unable to stop him. + +"The execution of the Duc d'Enghien," declared Monsieur Pierre, "was +a political necessity, and it seems to me that Napoleon showed +greatness of soul by not fearing to take on himself the whole +responsibility of that deed." + +"Dieu! Mon Dieu!" muttered Anna Pavlovna in a terrified whisper. + +"What, Monsieur Pierre... Do you consider that assassination shows +greatness of soul?" said the little princess, smiling and drawing +her work nearer to her. + +"Oh! Oh!" exclaimed several voices. + +"Capital!" said Prince Hippolyte in English, and began slapping +his knee with the palm of his hand. + +The vicomte merely shrugged his shoulders. Pierre looked solemnly at +his audience over his spectacles and continued. + +"I say so," he continued desperately, "because the Bourbons fled +from the Revolution leaving the people to anarchy, and Napoleon +alone understood the Revolution and quelled it, and so for the general +good, he could not stop short for the sake of one man's life." + +"Won't you come over to the other table?" suggested Anna Pavlovna. + +But Pierre continued his speech without heeding her. + +"No," cried he, becoming more and more eager, "Napoleon is great +because he rose superior to the Revolution, suppressed its abuses, +preserved all that was good in it- equality of citizenship and freedom +of speech and of the press- and only for that reason did he obtain +power." + +"Yes, if having obtained power, without availing himself of it to +commit murder he had restored it to the rightful king, I should have +called him a great man," remarked the vicomte. + +"He could not do that. The people only gave him power that he +might rid them of the Bourbons and because they saw that he was a +great man. The Revolution was a grand thing!" continued Monsieur +Pierre, betraying by this desperate and provocative proposition his +extreme youth and his wish to express all that was in his mind. + +"What? Revolution and regicide a grand thing?... Well, after that... +But won't you come to this other table?" repeated Anna Pavlovna. + +"Rousseau's Contrat social," said the vicomte with a tolerant smile. + +"I am not speaking of regicide, I am speaking about ideas." + +"Yes: ideas of robbery, murder, and regicide," again interjected +an ironical voice. + +"Those were extremes, no doubt, but they are not what is most +important. What is important are the rights of man, emancipation +from prejudices, and equality of citizenship, and all these ideas +Napoleon has retained in full force." + +"Liberty and equality," said the vicomte contemptuously, as if at +last deciding seriously to prove to this youth how foolish his words +were, "high-sounding words which have long been discredited. Who +does not love liberty and equality? Even our Saviour preached +liberty and equality. Have people since the Revolution become happier? +On the contrary. We wanted liberty, but Buonaparte has destroyed it." + +Prince Andrew kept looking with an amused smile from Pierre to the +vicomte and from the vicomte to their hostess. In the first moment +of Pierre's outburst Anna Pavlovna, despite her social experience, was +horror-struck. But when she saw that Pierre's sacrilegious words had +not exasperated the vicomte, and had convinced herself that it was +impossible to stop him, she rallied her forces and joined the +vicomte in a vigorous attack on the orator. + +"But, my dear Monsieur Pierre," said she, "how do you explain the +fact of a great man executing a duc- or even an ordinary man who- is +innocent and untried?" + +"I should like," said the vicomte, "to ask how monsieur explains the +18th Brumaire; was not that an imposture? It was a swindle, and not at +all like the conduct of a great man!" + +"And the prisoners he killed in Africa? That was horrible!" said the +little princess, shrugging her shoulders. + +"He's a low fellow, say what you will," remarked Prince Hippolyte. + +Pierre, not knowing whom to answer, looked at them all and smiled. +His smile was unlike the half-smile of other people. When he smiled, +his grave, even rather gloomy, look was instantaneously replaced by +another- a childlike, kindly, even rather silly look, which seemed +to ask forgiveness. + +The vicomte who was meeting him for the first time saw clearly +that this young Jacobin was not so terrible as his words suggested. +All were silent. + +"How do you expect him to answer you all at once?" said Prince +Andrew. "Besides, in the actions of a statesman one has to distinguish +between his acts as a private person, as a general, and as an emperor. +So it seems to me." + +"Yes, yes, of course!" Pierre chimed in, pleased at the arrival of +this reinforcement. + +"One must admit," continued Prince Andrew, "that Napoleon as a man +was great on the bridge of Arcola, and in the hospital at Jaffa +where he gave his hand to the plague-stricken; but... but there are +other acts which it is difficult to justify." + +Prince Andrew, who had evidently wished to tone down the awkwardness +of Pierre's remarks, rose and made a sign to his wife that it was time +to go. + +Suddenly Prince Hippolyte started up making signs to everyone to +attend, and asking them all to be seated began: + +"I was told a charming Moscow story today and must treat you to +it. Excuse me, Vicomte- I must tell it in Russian or the point will be +lost...." And Prince Hippolyte began to tell his story in such Russian +as a Frenchman would speak after spending about a year in Russia. +Everyone waited, so emphatically and eagerly did he demand their +attention to his story. + +"There is in Moscow a lady, une dame, and she is very stingy. She +must have two footmen behind her carriage, and very big ones. That was +her taste. And she had a lady's maid, also big. She said..." + +Here Prince Hippolyte paused, evidently collecting his ideas with +difficulty. + +"She said... Oh yes! She said, 'Girl,' to the maid, 'put on a +livery, get up behind the carriage, and come with me while I make some +calls.'" + +Here Prince Hippolyte spluttered and burst out laughing long +before his audience, which produced an effect unfavorable to the +narrator. Several persons, among them the elderly lady and Anna +Pavlovna, did however smile. + +"She went. Suddenly there was a great wind. The girl lost her hat +and her long hair came down...." Here he could contain himself no +longer and went on, between gasps of laughter: "And the whole world +knew...." + +And so the anecdote ended. Though it was unintelligible why he had +told it, or why it had to be told in Russian, still Anna Pavlovna +and the others appreciated Prince Hippolyte's social tact in so +agreeably ending Pierre's unpleasant and unamiable outburst. After the +anecdote the conversation broke up into insignificant small talk about +the last and next balls, about theatricals, and who would meet whom, +and when and where. + +CHAPTER VI + +Having thanked Anna Pavlovna for her charming soiree, the guests +began to take their leave. + +Pierre was ungainly. Stout, about the average height, broad, with +huge red hands; he did not know, as the saying is, to enter a +drawing room and still less how to leave one; that is, how to say +something particularly agreeable before going away. Besides this he +was absent-minded. When he rose to go, he took up instead of his +own, the general's three-cornered hat, and held it, pulling at the +plume, till the general asked him to restore it. All his +absent-mindedness and inability to enter a room and converse in it +was, however, redeemed by his kindly, simple, and modest expression. +Anna Pavlovna turned toward him and, with a Christian mildness that +expressed forgiveness of his indiscretion, nodded and said: "I hope to +see you again, but I also hope you will change your opinions, my +dear Monsieur Pierre." + +When she said this, he did not reply and only bowed, but again +everybody saw his smile, which said nothing, unless perhaps, "Opinions +are opinions, but you see what a capital, good-natured fellow I am." +And everyone, including Anna Pavlovna, felt this. + +Prince Andrew had gone out into the hall, and, turning his shoulders +to the footman who was helping him on with his cloak, listened +indifferently to his wife's chatter with Prince Hippolyte who had also +come into the hall. Prince Hippolyte stood close to the pretty, +pregnant princess, and stared fixedly at her through his eyeglass. + +"Go in, Annette, or you will catch cold," said the little +princess, taking leave of Anna Pavlovna. "It is settled," she added in +a low voice. + +Anna Pavlovna had already managed to speak to Lise about the match +she contemplated between Anatole and the little princess' +sister-in-law. + +"I rely on you, my dear," said Anna Pavlovna, also in a low tone. +"Write to her and let me know how her father looks at the matter. Au +revoir!"- and she left the hall. + +Prince Hippolyte approached the little princess and, bending his +face close to her, began to whisper something. + +Two footmen, the princess' and his own, stood holding a shawl and +a cloak, waiting for the conversation to finish. They listened to +the French sentences which to them were meaningless, with an air of +understanding but not wishing to appear to do so. The princess as +usual spoke smilingly and listened with a laugh. + +"I am very glad I did not go to the ambassador's," said Prince +Hippolyte "-so dull-. It has been a delightful evening, has it not? +Delightful!" + +"They say the ball will be very good," replied the princess, drawing +up her downy little lip. "All the pretty women in society will be +there." + +"Not all, for you will not be there; not all," said Prince Hippolyte +smiling joyfully; and snatching the shawl from the footman, whom he +even pushed aside, he began wrapping it round the princess. Either +from awkwardness or intentionally (no one could have said which) after +the shawl had been adjusted he kept his arm around her for a long +time, as though embracing her. + +Still smiling, she gracefully moved away, turning and glancing at +her husband. Prince Andrew's eyes were closed, so weary and sleepy did +he seem. + +"Are you ready?" he asked his wife, looking past her. + +Prince Hippolyte hurriedly put on his cloak, which in the latest +fashion reached to his very heels, and, stumbling in it, ran out +into the porch following the princess, whom a footman was helping into +the carriage. + +"Princesse, au revoir," cried he, stumbling with his tongue as +well as with his feet. + +The princess, picking up her dress, was taking her seat in the +dark carriage, her husband was adjusting his saber; Prince +Hippolyte, under pretense of helping, was in everyone's way. + +"Allow me, sir," said Prince Andrew in Russian in a cold, +disagreeable tone to Prince Hippolyte who was blocking his path. + +"I am expecting you, Pierre," said the same voice, but gently and +affectionately. + +The postilion started, the carriage wheels rattled. Prince Hippolyte +laughed spasmodically as he stood in the porch waiting for the vicomte +whom he had promised to take home. + +"Well, mon cher," said the vicomte, having seated himself beside +Hippolyte in the carriage, "your little princess is very nice, very +nice indeed, quite French," and he kissed the tips of his fingers. +Hippolyte burst out laughing. + +"Do you know, you are a terrible chap for all your innocent airs," +continued the vicomte. "I pity the poor husband, that little officer +who gives himself the airs of a monarch." + +Hippolyte spluttered again, and amid his laughter said, "And you +were saying that the Russian ladies are not equal to the French? One +has to know how to deal with them." + +Pierre reaching the house first went into Prince Andrew's study like +one quite at home, and from habit immediately lay down on the sofa, +took from the shelf the first book that came to his hand (it was +Caesar's Commentaries), and resting on his elbow, began reading it +in the middle. + +"What have you done to Mlle Scherer? She will be quite ill now," +said Prince Andrew, as he entered the study, rubbing his small white +hands. + +Pierre turned his whole body, making the sofa creak. He lifted his +eager face to Prince Andrew, smiled, and waved his hand. + +"That abbe is very interesting but he does not see the thing in +the right light.... In my opinion perpetual peace is possible but- I +do not know how to express it... not by a balance of political +power...." + +It was evident that Prince Andrew was not interested in such +abstract conversation. + +"One can't everywhere say all one thinks, mon cher. Well, have you +at last decided on anything? Are you going to be a guardsman or a +diplomatist?" asked Prince Andrew after a momentary silence. + +Pierre sat up on the sofa, with his legs tucked under him. + +"Really, I don't yet know. I don't like either the one or the +other." + +"But you must decide on something! Your father expects it." + +Pierre at the age of ten had been sent abroad with an abbe as tutor, +and had remained away till he was twenty. When he returned to Moscow +his father dismissed the abbe and said to the young man, "Now go to +Petersburg, look round, and choose your profession. I will agree to +anything. Here is a letter to Prince Vasili, and here is money. +Write to me all about it, and I will help you in everything." Pierre +had already been choosing a career for three months, and had not +decided on anything. It was about this choice that Prince Andrew was +speaking. Pierre rubbed his forehead. + +"But he must be a Freemason," said he, referring to the abbe whom he +had met that evening. + +"That is all nonsense." Prince Andrew again interrupted him, "let us +talk business. Have you been to the Horse Guards?" + +"No, I have not; but this is what I have been thinking and wanted to +tell you. There is a war now against Napoleon. If it were a war for +freedom I could understand it and should be the first to enter the +army; but to help England and Austria against the greatest man in +the world is not right." + +Prince Andrew only shrugged his shoulders at Pierre's childish +words. He put on the air of one who finds it impossible to reply to +such nonsense, but it would in fact have been difficult to give any +other answer than the one Prince Andrew gave to this naive question. + +"If no one fought except on his own conviction, there would be no +wars," he said. + +"And that would be splendid," said Pierre. + +Prince Andrew smiled ironically. + +"Very likely it would be splendid, but it will never come about..." + +"Well, why are you going to the war?" asked Pierre. + +"What for? I don't know. I must. Besides that I am going..." He +paused. "I am going because the life I am leading here does not suit +me!" + +CHAPTER VII + +The rustle of a woman's dress was heard in the next room. Prince +Andrew shook himself as if waking up, and his face assumed the look it +had had in Anna Pavlovna's drawing room. Pierre removed his feet +from the sofa. The princess came in. She had changed her gown for a +house dress as fresh and elegant as the other. Prince Andrew rose +and politely placed a chair for her. + +"How is it," she began, as usual in French, settling down briskly +and fussily in the easy chair, "how is it Annette never got married? +How stupid you men all are not to have married her! Excuse me for +saying so, but you have no sense about women. What an argumentative +fellow you are, Monsieur Pierre!" + +"And I am still arguing with your husband. I can't understand why he +wants to go to the war," replied Pierre, addressing the princess +with none of the embarrassment so commonly shown by young men in their +intercourse with young women. + +The princess started. Evidently Pierre's words touched her to the +quick. + +"Ah, that is just what I tell him!" said she. "I don't understand +it; I don't in the least understand why men can't live without wars. +How is it that we women don't want anything of the kind, don't need +it? Now you shall judge between us. I always tell him: Here he is +Uncle's aide-de-camp, a most brilliant position. He is so well +known, so much appreciated by everyone. The other day at the +Apraksins' I heard a lady asking, 'Is that the famous Prince +Andrew?' I did indeed." She laughed. "He is so well received +everywhere. He might easily become aide-de-camp to the Emperor. You +know the Emperor spoke to him most graciously. Annette and I were +speaking of how to arrange it. What do you think?" + +Pierre looked at his friend and, noticing that he did not like the +conversation, gave no reply. + +"When are you starting?" he asked. + +"Oh, don't speak of his going, don't! I won't hear it spoken of," +said the princess in the same petulantly playful tone in which she had +spoken to Hippolyte in the drawing room and which was so plainly +ill-suited to the family circle of which Pierre was almost a member. +"Today when I remembered that all these delightful associations must +be broken off... and then you know, Andre..." (she looked +significantly at her husband) "I'm afraid, I'm afraid!" she whispered, +and a shudder ran down her back. + +Her husband looked at her as if surprised to notice that someone +besides Pierre and himself was in the room, and addressed her in a +tone of frigid politeness. + +"What is it you are afraid of, Lise? I don't understand," said he. + +"There, what egotists men all are: all, all egotists! Just for a +whim of his own, goodness only knows why, he leaves me and locks me up +alone in the country." + +"With my father and sister, remember," said Prince Andrew gently. + +"Alone all the same, without my friends.... And he expects me not to +be afraid." + +Her tone was now querulous and her lip drawn up, giving her not a +joyful, but an animal, squirrel-like expression. She paused as if +she felt it indecorous to speak of her pregnancy before Pierre, though +the gist of the matter lay in that. + +"I still can't understand what you are afraid of," said Prince +Andrew slowly, not taking his eyes off his wife. + +The princess blushed, and raised her arms with a gesture of despair. + +"No, Andrew, I must say you have changed. Oh, how you have..." + +"Your doctor tells you to go to bed earlier," said Prince Andrew. +"You had better go." + +The princess said nothing, but suddenly her short downy lip +quivered. Prince Andrew rose, shrugged his shoulders, and walked about +the room. + +Pierre looked over his spectacles with naive surprise, now at him +and now at her, moved as if about to rise too, but changed his mind. + +"Why should I mind Monsieur Pierre being here?" exclaimed the little +princess suddenly, her pretty face all at once distorted by a +tearful grimace. "I have long wanted to ask you, Andrew, why you +have changed so to me? What have I done to you? You are going to the +war and have no pity for me. Why is it?" + +"Lise!" was all Prince Andrew said. But that one word expressed an +entreaty, a threat, and above all conviction that she would herself +regret her words. But she went on hurriedly: + +"You treat me like an invalid or a child. I see it all! Did you +behave like that six months ago?" + +"Lise, I beg you to desist," said Prince Andrew still more +emphatically. + +Pierre, who had been growing more and more agitated as he listened +to all this, rose and approached the princess. He seemed unable to +bear the sight of tears and was ready to cry himself. + +"Calm yourself, Princess! It seems so to you because... I assure you +I myself have experienced... and so... because... No, excuse me! An +outsider is out of place here... No, don't distress yourself... +Good-by!" + +Prince Andrew caught him by the hand. + +"No, wait, Pierre! The princess is too kind to wish to deprive me of +the pleasure of spending the evening with you." + +"No, he thinks only of himself," muttered the princess without +restraining her angry tears. + +"Lise!" said Prince Andrew dryly, raising his voice to the pitch +which indicates that patience is exhausted. + +Suddenly the angry, squirrel-like expression of the princess' pretty +face changed into a winning and piteous look of fear. Her beautiful +eyes glanced askance at her husband's face, and her own assumed the +timid, deprecating expression of a dog when it rapidly but feebly wags +its drooping tail. + +"Mon Dieu, mon Dieu!" she muttered, and lifting her dress with one +hand she went up to her husband and kissed him on the forehead. + +"Good night, Lise," said he, rising and courteously kissing her hand +as he would have done to a stranger. + +CHAPTER VIII + +The friends were silent. Neither cared to begin talking. Pierre +continually glanced at Prince Andrew; Prince Andrew rubbed his +forehead with his small hand. + +"Let us go and have supper," he said with a sigh, going to the door. + +They entered the elegant, newly decorated, and luxurious dining +room. Everything from the table napkins to the silver, china, and +glass bore that imprint of newness found in the households of the +newly married. Halfway through supper Prince Andrew leaned his +elbows on the table and, with a look of nervous agitation such as +Pierre had never before seen on his face, began to talk- as one who +has long had something on his mind and suddenly determines to speak +out. + +"Never, never marry, my dear fellow! That's my advice: never marry +till you can say to yourself that you have done all you are capable +of, and until you have ceased to love the woman of your choice and +have seen her plainly as she is, or else you will make a cruel and +irrevocable mistake. Marry when you are old and good for nothing- or +all that is good and noble in you will be lost. It will all be +wasted on trifles. Yes! Yes! Yes! Don't look at me with such surprise. +If you marry expecting anything from yourself in the future, you +will feel at every step that for you all is ended, all is closed +except the drawing room, where you will be ranged side by side with +a court lackey and an idiot!... But what's the good?..." and he +waved his arm. + +Pierre took off his spectacles, which made his face seem different +and the good-natured expression still more apparent, and gazed at +his friend in amazement. + +"My wife," continued Prince Andrew, "is an excellent woman, one of +those rare women with whom a man's honor is safe; but, O God, what +would I not give now to be unmarried! You are the first and only one +to whom I mention this, because I like you." + +As he said this Prince Andrew was less than ever like that Bolkonski +who had lolled in Anna Pavlovna's easy chairs and with half-closed +eyes had uttered French phrases between his teeth. Every muscle of his +thin face was now quivering with nervous excitement; his eyes, in +which the fire of life had seemed extinguished, now flashed with +brilliant light. It was evident that the more lifeless he seemed at +ordinary times, the more impassioned he became in these moments of +almost morbid irritation. + +"You don't understand why I say this," he continued, "but it is +the whole story of life. You talk of Bonaparte and his career," said +he (though Pierre had not mentioned Bonaparte), "but Bonaparte when he +worked went step by step toward his goal. He was free, he had +nothing but his aim to consider, and he reached it. But tie yourself +up with a woman and, like a chained convict, you lose all freedom! And +all you have of hope and strength merely weighs you down and +torments you with regret. Drawing rooms, gossip, balls, vanity, and +triviality- these are the enchanted circle I cannot escape from. I +am now going to the war, the greatest war there ever was, and I know +nothing and am fit for nothing. I am very amiable and have a caustic +wit," continued Prince Andrew, "and at Anna Pavlovna's they listen +to me. And that stupid set without whom my wife cannot exist, and +those women... If you only knew what those society women are, and +women in general! My father is right. Selfish, vain, stupid, trivial +in everything- that's what women are when you see them in their true +colors! When you meet them in society it seems as if there were +something in them, but there's nothing, nothing, nothing! No, don't +marry, my dear fellow; don't marry!" concluded Prince Andrew. + +"It seems funny to me," said Pierre, "that you, you should +consider yourself incapable and your life a spoiled life. You have +everything before you, everything. And you..." + +He did not finish his sentence, but his tone showed how highly he +thought of his friend and how much he expected of him in the future. + +"How can he talk like that?" thought Pierre. He considered his +friend a model of perfection because Prince Andrew possessed in the +highest degree just the very qualities Pierre lacked, and which +might be best described as strength of will. Pierre was always +astonished at Prince Andrew's calm manner of treating everybody, his +extraordinary memory, his extensive reading (he had read everything, +knew everything, and had an opinion about everything), but above all +at his capacity for work and study. And if Pierre was often struck +by Andrew's lack of capacity for philosophical meditation (to which he +himself was particularly addicted), he regarded even this not as a +defect but as a sign of strength. + +Even in the best, most friendly and simplest relations of life, +praise and commendation are essential, just as grease is necessary +to wheels that they may run smoothly. + +"My part is played out," said Prince Andrew. "What's the use of +talking about me? Let us talk about you," he added after a silence, +smiling at his reassuring thoughts. + +That smile was immediately reflected on Pierre's face. + +"But what is there to say about me?" said Pierre, his face +relaxing into a careless, merry smile. "What am I? An illegitimate +son!" He suddenly blushed crimson, and it was plain that he had made a +great effort to say this. "Without a name and without means... And +it really..." But he did not say what "it really" was. "For the +present I am free and am all right. Only I haven't the least idea what +I am to do; I wanted to consult you seriously." + +Prince Andrew looked kindly at him, yet his glance- friendly and +affectionate as it was- expressed a sense of his own superiority. + +"I am fond of you, especially as you are the one live man among +our whole set. Yes, you're all right! Choose what you will; it's all +the same. You'll be all right anywhere. But look here: give up +visiting those Kuragins and leading that sort of life. It suits you so +badly- all this debauchery, dissipation, and the rest of it!" + +"What would you have, my dear fellow?" answered Pierre, shrugging +his shoulders. "Women, my dear fellow; women!" + +"I don't understand it," replied Prince Andrew. "Women who are comme +il faut, that's a different matter; but the Kuragins' set of women, +'women and wine' I don't understand!" + +Pierre was staying at Prince Vasili Kuragin's and sharing the +dissipated life of his son Anatole, the son whom they were planning to +reform by marrying him to Prince Andrew's sister. + +"Do you know?" said Pierre, as if suddenly struck by a happy +thought, "seriously, I have long been thinking of it.... Leading +such a life I can't decide or think properly about anything. One's +head aches, and one spends all one's money. He asked me for tonight, +but I won't go." + +"You give me your word of honor not to go?" + +"On my honor!" + +CHAPTER IX + +It was past one o'clock when Pierre left his friend. It was a +cloudless, northern, summer night. Pierre took an open cab intending +to drive straight home. But the nearer he drew to the house the more +he felt the impossibility of going to sleep on such a night. It was +light enough to see a long way in the deserted street and it seemed +more like morning or evening than night. On the way Pierre +remembered that Anatole Kuragin was expecting the usual set for +cards that evening, after which there was generally a drinking bout, +finishing with visits of a kind Pierre was very fond of. + +"I should like to go to Kuragin's," thought he. + +But he immediately recalled his promise to Prince Andrew not to go +there. Then, as happens to people of weak character, he desired so +passionately once more to enjoy that dissipation he was so +accustomed to that he decided to go. The thought immediately +occurred to him that his promise to Prince Andrew was of no account, +because before he gave it he had already promised Prince Anatole to +come to his gathering; "besides," thought he, "all such 'words of +honor' are conventional things with no definite meaning, especially if +one considers that by tomorrow one may be dead, or something so +extraordinary may happen to one that honor and dishonor will be all +the same!" Pierre often indulged in reflections of this sort, +nullifying all his decisions and intentions. He went to Kuragin's. + +Reaching the large house near the Horse Guards' barracks, in which +Anatole lived, Pierre entered the lighted porch, ascended the +stairs, and went in at the open door. There was no one in the +anteroom; empty bottles, cloaks, and overshoes were lying about; there +was a smell of alcohol, and sounds of voices and shouting in the +distance. + +Cards and supper were over, but the visitors had not yet +dispersed. Pierre threw off his cloak and entered the first room, in +which were the remains of supper. A footman, thinking no one saw +him, was drinking on the sly what was left in the glasses. From the +third room came sounds of laughter, the shouting of familiar voices, +the growling of a bear, and general commotion. Some eight or nine +young men were crowding anxiously round an open window. Three others +were romping with a young bear, one pulling him by the chain and +trying to set him at the others. + +"I bet a hundred on Stevens!" shouted one. + +"Mind, no holding on!" cried another. + +"I bet on Dolokhov!" cried a third. "Kuragin, you part our hands." + +"There, leave Bruin alone; here's a bet on." + +"At one draught, or he loses!" shouted a fourth. + +"Jacob, bring a bottle!" shouted the host, a tall, handsome fellow +who stood in the midst of the group, without a coat, and with his fine +linen shirt unfastened in front. "Wait a bit, you fellows.... Here +is Petya! Good man!" cried he, addressing Pierre. + +Another voice, from a man of medium height with clear blue eyes, +particularly striking among all these drunken voices by its sober +ring, cried from the window: "Come here; part the bets!" This was +Dolokhov, an officer of the Semenov regiment, a notorious gambler +and duelist, who was living with Anatole. Pierre smiled, looking about +him merrily. + +"I don't understand. What's it all about?" + +"Wait a bit, he is not drunk yet! A bottle here," said Anatole, +taking a glass from the table he went up to Pierre. + +"First of all you must drink!" + +Pierre drank one glass after another, looking from under his brows +at the tipsy guests who were again crowding round the window, and +listening to their chatter. Anatole kept on refilling Pierre's glass +while explaining that Dolokhov was betting with Stevens, an English +naval officer, that he would drink a bottle of rum sitting on the +outer ledge of the third floor window with his legs hanging out. + +"Go on, you must drink it all," said Anatole, giving Pierre the last +glass, "or I won't let you go!" + +"No, I won't," said Pierre, pushing Anatole aside, and he went up to +the window. + +Dolokhov was holding the Englishman's hand and clearly and +distinctly repeating the terms of the bet, addressing himself +particularly to Anatole and Pierre. + +Dolokhov was of medium height, with curly hair and light-blue +eyes. He was about twenty-five. Like all infantry officers he wore +no mustache, so that his mouth, the most striking feature of his face, +was clearly seen. The lines of that mouth were remarkably finely +curved. The middle of the upper lip formed a sharp wedge and closed +firmly on the firm lower one, and something like two distinct smiles +played continually round the two corners of the mouth; this, +together with the resolute, insolent intelligence of his eyes, +produced an effect which made it impossible not to notice his face. +Dolokhov was a man of small means and no connections. Yet, though +Anatole spent tens of thousands of rubles, Dolokhov lived with him and +had placed himself on such a footing that all who knew them, including +Anatole himself, respected him more than they did Anatole. Dolokhov +could play all games and nearly always won. However much he drank, +he never lost his clearheadedness. Both Kuragin and Dolokhov were at +that time notorious among the rakes and scapegraces of Petersburg. + +The bottle of rum was brought. The window frame which prevented +anyone from sitting on the outer sill was being forced out by two +footmen, who were evidently flurried and intimidated by the directions +and shouts of the gentlemen around. + +Anatole with his swaggering air strode up to the window. He wanted +to smash something. Pushing away the footmen he tugged at the frame, +but could not move it. He smashed a pane. + +"You have a try, Hercules," said he, turning to Pierre. + +Pierre seized the crossbeam, tugged, and wrenched the oak frame +out with a crash. + +"Take it right out, or they'll think I'm holding on," said Dolokhov. + +"Is the Englishman bragging?... Eh? Is it all right?" said Anatole. + +"First-rate," said Pierre, looking at Dolokhov, who with a bottle of +rum in his hand was approaching the window, from which the light of +the sky, the dawn merging with the afterglow of sunset, was visible. + +Dolokhov, the bottle of rum still in his hand, jumped onto the +window sill. "Listen!" cried he, standing there and addressing those +in the room. All were silent. + +"I bet fifty imperials"- he spoke French that the Englishman might +understand him, but he did, not speak it very well- "I bet fifty +imperials... or do you wish to make it a hundred?" added he, +addressing the Englishman. + +"No, fifty," replied the latter. + +"All right. Fifty imperials... that I will drink a whole bottle of +rum without taking it from my mouth, sitting outside the window on +this spot" (he stooped and pointed to the sloping ledge outside the +window) "and without holding on to anything. Is that right?" + +"Quite right," said the Englishman. + +Anatole turned to the Englishman and taking him by one of the +buttons of his coat and looking down at him- the Englishman was short- +began repeating the terms of the wager to him in English. + +"Wait!" cried Dolokhov, hammering with the bottle on the window sill +to attract attention. "Wait a bit, Kuragin. Listen! If anyone else +does the same, I will pay him a hundred imperials. Do you understand?" + +The Englishman nodded, but gave no indication whether he intended to +accept this challenge or not. Anatole did not release him, and +though he kept nodding to show that he understood, Anatole went on +translating Dolokhov's words into English. A thin young lad, an hussar +of the Life Guards, who had been losing that evening, climbed on the +window sill, leaned over, and looked down. + +"Oh! Oh! Oh!" he muttered, looking down from the window at the +stones of the pavement. + +"Shut up!" cried Dolokhov, pushing him away from the window. The lad +jumped awkwardly back into the room, tripping over his spurs. + +Placing the bottle on the window sill where he could reach it +easily, Dolokhov climbed carefully and slowly through the window and +lowered his legs. Pressing against both sides of the window, he +adjusted himself on his seat, lowered his hands, moved a little to the +right and then to the left, and took up the bottle. Anatole brought +two candles and placed them on the window sill, though it was +already quite light. Dolokhov's back in his white shirt, and his curly +head, were lit up from both sides. Everyone crowded to the window, the +Englishman in front. Pierre stood smiling but silent. One man, older +than the others present, suddenly pushed forward with a scared and +angry look and wanted to seize hold of Dolokhov's shirt. + +"I say, this is folly! He'll be killed," said this more sensible +man. + +Anatole stopped him. + +"Don't touch him! You'll startle him and then he'll be killed. +Eh?... What then?... Eh?" + +Dolokhov turned round and, again holding on with both hands, +arranged himself on his seat. + +"If anyone comes meddling again," said he, emitting the words +separately through his thin compressed lips, "I will throw him down +there. Now then!" + +Saying this he again turned round, dropped his hands, took the +bottle and lifted it to his lips, threw back his head, and raised +his free hand to balance himself. One of the footmen who had stooped +to pick up some broken glass remained in that position without +taking his eyes from the window and from Dolokhov's back. Anatole +stood erect with staring eyes. The Englishman looked on sideways, +pursing up his lips. The man who had wished to stop the affair ran +to a corner of the room and threw himself on a sofa with his face to +the wall. Pierre hid his face, from which a faint smile forgot to fade +though his features now expressed horror and fear. All were still. +Pierre took his hands from his eyes. Dolokhov still sat in the same +position, only his head was thrown further back till his curly hair +touched his shirt collar, and the hand holding the bottle was lifted +higher and higher and trembled with the effort. The bottle was +emptying perceptibly and rising still higher and his head tilting +yet further back. "Why is it so long?" thought Pierre. It seemed to +him that more than half an hour had elapsed. Suddenly Dolokhov made +a backward movement with his spine, and his arm trembled nervously; +this was sufficient to cause his whole body to slip as he sat on the +sloping ledge. As he began slipping down, his head and arm wavered +still more with the strain. One hand moved as if to clutch the +window sill, but refrained from touching it. Pierre again covered +his eyes and thought he would never never them again. Suddenly he +was aware of a stir all around. He looked up: Dolokhov was standing on +the window sill, with a pale but radiant face. + +"It's empty." + +He threw the bottle to the Englishman, who caught it neatly. +Dolokhov jumped down. He smelt strongly of rum. + +"Well done!... Fine fellow!... There's a bet for you!... Devil +take you!" came from different sides. + +The Englishman took out his purse and began counting out the +money. Dolokhov stood frowning and did not speak. Pierre jumped upon +the window sill. + +"Gentlemen, who wishes to bet with me? I'll do the same thing!" he +suddenly cried. "Even without a bet, there! Tell them to bring me a +bottle. I'll do it.... Bring a bottle!" + +"Let him do it, let him do it," said Dolokhov, smiling. + +"What next? Have you gone mad?... No one would let you!... Why, +you go giddy even on a staircase," exclaimed several voices. + +"I'll drink it! Let's have a bottle of rum!" shouted Pierre, banging +the table with a determined and drunken gesture and preparing to climb +out of the window. + +They seized him by his arms; but he was so strong that everyone +who touched him was sent flying. + +"No, you'll never manage him that way," said Anatole. "Wait a bit +and I'll get round him.... Listen! I'll take your bet tomorrow, but +now we are all going to -'s." + +"Come on then," cried Pierre. "Come on!... And we'll take Bruin with +us." + +And he caught the bear, took it in his arms, lifted it from the +ground, and began dancing round the room with it. + +CHAPTER X + +Prince Vasili kept the promise he had given to Princess +Drubetskaya who had spoken to him on behalf of her only son Boris on +the evening of Anna Pavlovna's soiree. The matter was mentioned to the +Emperor, an exception made, and Boris transferred into the regiment of +Semenov Guards with the rank of cornet. He received, however, no +appointment to Kutuzov's staff despite all Anna Mikhaylovna's +endeavors and entreaties. Soon after Anna Pavlovna's reception Anna +Mikhaylovna returned to Moscow and went straight to her rich +relations, the Rostovs, with whom she stayed when in the town and +where and where her darling Bory, who had only just entered a regiment +of the line and was being at once transferred to the Guards as a +cornet, had been educated from childhood and lived for years at a +time. The Guards had already left Petersburg on the tenth of August, +and her son, who had remained in Moscow for his equipment, was to join +them on the march to Radzivilov. + +It was St. Natalia's day and the name day of two of the Rostovs- the +mother and the youngest daughter- both named Nataly. Ever since the +morning, carriages with six horses had been coming and going +continually, bringing visitors to the Countess Rostova's big house +on the Povarskaya, so well known to all Moscow. The countess herself +and her handsome eldest daughter were in the drawing-room with the +visitors who came to congratulate, and who constantly succeeded one +another in relays. + +The countess was a woman of about forty-five, with a thin Oriental +type of face, evidently worn out with childbearing- she had had +twelve. A languor of motion and speech, resulting from weakness, +gave her a distinguished air which inspired respect. Princess Anna +Mikhaylovna Drubetskaya, who as a member of the household was also +seated in the drawing room, helped to receive and entertain the +visitors. The young people were in one of the inner rooms, not +considering it necessary to take part in receiving the visitors. The +count met the guests and saw them off, inviting them all to dinner. + +"I am very, very grateful to you, mon cher," or "ma chere"- he +called everyone without exception and without the slightest +variation in his tone, "my dear," whether they were above or below him +in rank- "I thank you for myself and for our two dear ones whose +name day we are keeping. But mind you come to dinner or I shall be +offended, ma chere! On behalf of the whole family I beg you to come, +mon cher!" These words he repeated to everyone without exception or +variation, and with the same expression on his full, cheerful, +clean-shaven face, the same firm pressure of the hand and the same +quick, repeated bows. As soon as he had seen a visitor off he returned +to one of those who were still in the drawing room, drew a chair +toward him or her, and jauntily spreading out his legs and putting his +hands on his knees with the air of a man who enjoys life and knows how +to live, he swayed to and fro with dignity, offered surmises about the +weather, or touched on questions of health, sometimes in Russian and +sometimes in very bad but self-confident French; then again, like a +man weary but unflinching in the fulfillment of duty, he rose to see +some visitors off and, stroking his scanty gray hairs over his bald +patch, also asked them to dinner. Sometimes on his way back from the +anteroom he would pass through the conservatory and pantry into the +large marble dining hall, where tables were being set out for eighty +people; and looking at the footmen, who were bringing in silver and +china, moving tables, and unfolding damask table linen, he would +call Dmitri Vasilevich, a man of good family and the manager of all +his affairs, and while looking with pleasure at the enormous table +would say: "Well, Dmitri, you'll see that things are all as they +should be? That's right! The great thing is the serving, that's it." +And with a complacent sigh he would return to the drawing room. + +"Marya Lvovna Karagina and her daughter!" announced the countess' +gigantic footman in his bass voice, entering the drawing room. The +countess reflected a moment and took a pinch from a gold snuffbox with +her husband's portrait on it. + +"I'm quite worn out by these callers. However, I'll see her and no +more. She is so affected. Ask her in," she said to the footman in a +sad voice, as if saying: "Very well, finish me off." + +A tall, stout, and proud-looking woman, with a round-faced smiling +daughter, entered the drawing room, their dresses rustling. + +"Dear Countess, what an age... She has been laid up, poor child... +at the Razumovski's ball... and Countess Apraksina... I was so +delighted..." came the sounds of animated feminine voices, +interrupting one another and mingling with the rustling of dresses and +the scraping of chairs. Then one of those conversations began which +last out until, at the first pause, the guests rise with a rustle of +dresses and say, "I am so delighted... Mamma's health... and +Countess Apraksina... and then, again rustling, pass into the +anteroom, put on cloaks or mantles, and drive away. The conversation +was on the chief topic of the day: the illness of the wealthy and +celebrated beau of Catherine's day, Count Bezukhov, and about his +illegitimate son Pierre, the one who had behaved so improperly at Anna +Pavlovna's reception. + +"I am so sorry for the poor count," said the visitor. "He is in such +bad health, and now this vexation about his son is enough to kill +him!" + +"What is that?" asked the countess as if she did not know what the +visitor alluded to, though she had already heard about the cause of +Count Bezukhov's distress some fifteen times. + +"That's what comes of a modern education," exclaimed the visitor. +"It seems that while he was abroad this young man was allowed to do as +he liked, now in Petersburg I hear he has been doing such terrible +things that he has been expelled by the police." + +"You don't say so!" replied the countess. + +"He chose his friends badly," interposed Anna Mikhaylovna. "Prince +Vasili's son, he, and a certain Dolokhov have, it is said, been up +to heaven only knows what! And they have had to suffer for it. +Dolokhov has been degraded to the ranks and Bezukhov's son sent back +to Moscow. Anatole Kuragin's father managed somehow to get his son's +affair hushed up, but even he was ordered out of Petersburg." + +"But what have they been up to?" asked the countess. + +"They are regular brigands, especially Dolokhov," replied the +visitor. "He is a son of Marya Ivanovna Dolokhova, such a worthy +woman, but there, just fancy! Those three got hold of a bear +somewhere, put it in a carriage, and set off with it to visit some +actresses! The police tried to interfere, and what did the young men +do? They tied a policeman and the bear back to back and put the bear +into the Moyka Canal. And there was the bear swimming about with the +policeman on his back!" + +"What a nice figure the policeman must have cut, my dear!" shouted +the count, dying with laughter. + +"Oh, how dreadful! How can you laugh at it, Count?" + +Yet the ladies themselves could not help laughing. + +"It was all they could do to rescue the poor man," continued the +visitor. "And to think it is Cyril Vladimirovich Bezukhov's son who +amuses himself in this sensible manner! And he was said to be so +well educated and clever. This is all that his foreign education has +done for him! I hope that here in Moscow no one will receive him, in +spite of his money. They wanted to introduce him to me, but I quite +declined: I have my daughters to consider." + +"Why do you say this young man is so rich?" asked the countess, +turning away from the girls, who at once assumed an air of +inattention. "His children are all illegitimate. I think Pierre also +is illegitimate." + +The visitor made a gesture with her hand. + +"I should think he has a score of them." + +Princess Anna Mikhaylovna intervened in the conversation, +evidently wishing to show her connections and knowledge of what went +on in society. + +"The fact of the matter is," said she significantly, and also in a +half whisper, "everyone knows Count Cyril's reputation.... He has lost +count of his children, but this Pierre was his favorite." + +"How handsome the old man still was only a year ago!" remarked the +countess. "I have never seen a handsomer man." + +"He is very much altered now," said Anna Mikhaylovna. "Well, as I +was saying, Prince Vasili is the next heir through his wife, but the +count is very fond of Pierre, looked after his education, and wrote to +the Emperor about him; so that in the case of his death- and he is +so ill that he may die at any moment, and Dr. Lorrain has come from +Petersburg- no one knows who will inherit his immense fortune, +Pierre or Prince Vasili. Forty thousand serfs and millions of +rubles! I know it all very well for Prince Vasili told me himself. +Besides, Cyril Vladimirovich is my mother's second cousin. He's also +my Bory's godfather," she added, as if she attached no importance at +all to the fact. + +"Prince Vasili arrived in Moscow yesterday. I hear he has come on +some inspection business," remarked the visitor. + +"Yes, but between ourselves," said the princess, that is a +pretext. The fact is he has come to see Count Cyril Vladimirovich, +hearing how ill he is." + +"But do you know, my dear, that was a capital joke," said the count; +and seeing that the elder visitor was not listening, he turned to +the young ladies. "I can just imagine what a funny figure that +policeman cut!" + +And as he waved his arms to impersonate the policeman, his portly +form again shook with a deep ringing laugh, the laugh of one who +always eats well and, in particular, drinks well. "So do come and dine +with us!" he said. + +CHAPTER XI + +Silence ensued. The countess looked at her callers, smiling affably, +but not concealing the fact that she would not be distressed if they +now rose and took their leave. The visitor's daughter was already +smoothing down her dress with an inquiring look at her mother, when +suddenly from the next room were heard the footsteps of boys and girls +running to the door and the noise of a chair falling over, and a +girl of thirteen, hiding something in the folds of her short muslin +frock, darted in and stopped short in the middle of the room. It was +evident that she had not intended her flight to bring her so far. +Behind her in the doorway appeared a student with a crimson coat +collar, an officer of the Guards, a girl of fifteen, and a plump +rosy-faced boy in a short jacket. + +The count jumped up and, swaying from side to side, spread his +arms wide and threw them round the little girl who had run in. + +"Ah, here she is!" he exclaimed laughing. "My pet, whose name day it +is. My dear pet!" + +"Ma chere, there is a time for everything," said the countess with +feigned severity. "You spoil her, Ilya," she added, turning to her +husband. + +"How do you do, my dear? I wish you many happy returns of your +name day," said the visitor. "What a charming child," she added, +addressing the mother. + +This black-eyed, wide-mouthed girl, not pretty but full of life- +with childish bare shoulders which after her run heaved and shook +her bodice, with black curls tossed backward, thin bare arms, little +legs in lace-frilled drawers, and feet in low slippers- was just at +that charming age when a girl is no longer a child, though the child +is not yet a young woman. Escaping from her father she ran to hide her +flushed face in the lace of her mother's mantilla- not paying the +least attention to her severe remark- and began to laugh. She laughed, +and in fragmentary sentences tried to explain about a doll which she +produced from the folds of her frock. + +"Do you see?... My doll... Mimi... You see..." was all Natasha +managed to utter (to her everything seemed funny). She leaned +against her mother and burst into such a loud, ringing fit of laughter +that even the prim visitor could not help joining in. + +"Now then, go away and take your monstrosity with you," said the +mother, pushing away her daughter with pretended sternness, and +turning to the visitor she added: "She is my youngest girl." + +Natasha, raising her face for a moment from her mother's mantilla, +glanced up at her through tears of laughter, and again hid her face. + +The visitor, compelled to look on at this family scene, thought it +necessary to take some part in it. + +"Tell me, my dear," said she to Natasha, "is Mimi a relation of +yours? A daughter, I suppose?" + +Natasha did not like the visitor's tone of condescension to childish +things. She did not reply, but looked at her seriously. + +Meanwhile the younger generation: Boris, the officer, Anna +Mikhaylovna's son; Nicholas, the undergraduate, the count's eldest +son; Sonya, the count's fifteen-year-old niece, and little Petya, +his youngest boy, had all settled down in the drawing room and were +obviously trying to restrain within the bounds of decorum the +excitement and mirth that shone in all their faces. Evidently in the +back rooms, from which they had dashed out so impetuously, the +conversation had been more amusing than the drawing-room talk of +society scandals, the weather, and Countess Apraksina. Now and then +they glanced at one another, hardly able to suppress their laughter. + +The two young men, the student and the officer, friends from +childhood, were of the same age and both handsome fellows, though +not alike. Boris was tall and fair, and his calm and handsome face had +regular, delicate features. Nicholas was short with curly hair and +an open expression. Dark hairs were already showing on his upper +lip, and his whole face expressed impetuosity and enthusiasm. Nicholas +blushed when he entered the drawing room. He evidently tried to find +something to say, but failed. Boris on the contrary at once found +his footing, and related quietly and humorously how he had know that +doll Mimi when she was still quite a young lady, before her nose was +broken; how she had aged during the five years he had known her, and +how her head had cracked right across the skull. Having said this he +glanced at Natasha. She turned away from him and glanced at her +younger brother, who was screwing up his eyes and shaking with +suppressed laughter, and unable to control herself any longer, she +jumped up and rushed from the room as fast as her nimble little feet +would carry her. Boris did not laugh. + +"You were meaning to go out, weren't you, Mamma? Do you want the +carriage?" he asked his mother with a smile. + +"Yes, yes, go and tell them to get it ready," she answered, +returning his smile. + +Boris quietly left the room and went in search of Natasha. The plump +boy ran after them angrily, as if vexed that their program had been +disturbed. + +CHAPTER XII + +The only young people remaining in the drawing room, not counting +the young lady visitor and the countess' eldest daughter (who was four +years older than her sister and behaved already like a grown-up +person), were Nicholas and Sonya, the niece. Sonya was a slender +little brunette with a tender look in her eyes which were veiled by +long lashes, thick black plaits coiling twice round her head, and a +tawny tint in her complexion and especially in the color of her +slender but graceful and muscular arms and neck. By the grace of her +movements, by the softness and flexibility of her small limbs, and +by a certain coyness and reserve of manner, she reminded one of a +pretty, half-grown kitten which promises to become a beautiful +little cat. She evidently considered it proper to show an interest +in the general conversation by smiling, but in spite of herself her +eyes under their thick long lashes watched her cousin who was going to +join the army, with such passionate girlish adoration that her smile +could not for a single instant impose upon anyone, and it was clear +that the kitten had settled down only to spring up with more energy +and again play with her cousin as soon as they too could, like Natasha +and Boris, escape from the drawing room. + +"Ah yes, my dear," said the count, addressing the visitor and +pointing to Nicholas, "his friend Boris has become an officer, and +so for friendship's sake he is leaving the university and me, his +old father, and entering the military service, my dear. And there +was a place and everything waiting for him in the Archives Department! +Isn't that friendship?" remarked the count in an inquiring tone. + +"But they say that war has been declared," replied the visitor. + +"They've been saying so a long while," said the count, "and +they'll say so again and again, and that will be the end of it. My +dear, there's friendship for you," he repeated. "He's joining the +hussars." + +The visitor, not knowing what to say, shook her head. + +"It's not at all from friendship," declared Nicholas, flaring up and +turning away as if from a shameful aspersion. "It is not from +friendship at all; I simply feel that the army is my vocation." + +He glanced at his cousin and the young lady visitor; and they were +both regarding him with a smile of approbation. + +"Schubert, the colonel of the Pavlograd Hussars, is dining with us +today. He has been here on leave and is taking Nicholas back with him. +It can't be helped!" said the count, shrugging his shoulders and +speaking playfully of a matter that evidently distressed him. + +"I have already told you, Papa," said his son, "that if you don't +wish to let me go, I'll stay. But I know I am no use anywhere except +in the army; I am not a diplomat or a government clerk.- I don't +know how to hide what I feel." As he spoke he kept glancing with the +flirtatiousness of a handsome youth at Sonya and the young lady +visitor. + +The little kitten, feasting her eyes on him, seemed ready at any +moment to start her gambols again and display her kittenish nature. + +"All right, all right!" said the old count. "He always flares up! +This Buonaparte has turned all their heads; they all think of how he +rose from an ensign and became Emperor. Well, well, God grant it," +he added, not noticing his visitor's sarcastic smile. + +The elders began talking about Bonaparte. Julie Karagina turned to +young Rostov. + +"What a pity you weren't at the Arkharovs' on Thursday. It was so +dull without you," said she, giving him a tender smile. + +The young man, flattered, sat down nearer to her with a coquettish +smile, and engaged the smiling Julie in a confidential conversation +without at all noticing that his involuntary smile had stabbed the +heart of Sonya, who blushed and smiled unnaturally. In the midst of +his talk he glanced round at her. She gave him a passionately angry +glance, and hardly able to restrain her tears and maintain the +artificial smile on her lips, she got up and left the room. All +Nicholas' animation vanished. He waited for the first pause in the +conversation, and then with a distressed face left the room to find +Sonya. + +"How plainly all these young people wear their hearts on their +sleeves!" said Anna Mikhaylovna, pointing to Nicholas as he went +out. "Cousinage- dangereux voisinage;"~^ she added. + +^~ Cousinhood is a dangerous neighborhood. + +"Yes," said the countess when the brightness these young people +had brought into the room had vanished; and as if answering a question +no one had put but which was always in her mind, "and how much +suffering, how much anxiety one has had to go through that we might +rejoice in them now! And yet really the anxiety is greater now than +the joy. One is always, always anxious! Especially just at this age, +so dangerous both for girls and boys." + +"It all depends on the bringing up," remarked the visitor. + +"Yes, you're quite right," continued the countess. "Till now I +have always, thank God, been my children's friend and had their full +confidence," said she, repeating the mistake of so many parents who +imagine that their children have no secrets from them. "I know I shall +always be my daughters' first confidante, and that if Nicholas, with +his impulsive nature, does get into mischief (a boy can't help it), he +will all the same never be like those Petersburg young men." + +"Yes, they are splendid, splendid youngsters," chimed in the +count, who always solved questions that seemed to him perplexing by +deciding that everything was splendid. "Just fancy: wants to be an +hussar. What's one to do, my dear?" + +"What a charming creature your younger girl is," said the visitor; +"a little volcano!" + +"Yes, a regular volcano," said the count. "Takes after me! And +what a voice she has; though she's my daughter, I tell the truth +when I say she'll be a singer, a second Salomoni! We have engaged an +Italian to give her lessons." + +"Isn't she too young? I have heard that it harms the voice to +train it at that age." + +"Oh no, not at all too young!" replied the count. "Why, our +mothers used to be married at twelve or thirteen." + +"And she's in love with Boris already. Just fancy!" said the +countess with a gentle smile, looking at Boris' and went on, evidently +concerned with a thought that always occupied her: "Now you see if I +were to be severe with her and to forbid it... goodness knows what +they might be up to on the sly" (she meant that they would be +kissing), "but as it is, I know every word she utters. She will come +running to me of her own accord in the evening and tell me everything. +Perhaps I spoil her, but really that seems the best plan. With her +elder sister I was stricter." + +"Yes, I was brought up quite differently," remarked the handsome +elder daughter, Countess Vera, with a smile. + +But the smile did not enhance Vera's beauty as smiles generally +do; on the contrary it gave her an unnatural, and therefore +unpleasant, expression. Vera was good-looking, not at all stupid, +quick at learning, was well brought up, and had a pleasant voice; what +she said was true and appropriate, yet, strange to say, everyone- +the visitors and countess alike- turned to look at her as if wondering +why she had said it, and they all felt awkward. + +"People are always too clever with their eldest children and try +to make something exceptional of them," said the visitor. + +"What's the good of denying it, my dear? Our dear countess was too +clever with Vera," said the count. "Well, what of that? She's turned +out splendidly all the same," he added, winking at Vera. + +The guests got up and took their leave, promising to return to +dinner. + +"What manners! I thought they would never go," said the countess, +when she had seen her guests out. + +CHAPTER XIII + +When Natasha ran out of the drawing room she only went as far as the +conservatory. There she paused and stood listening to the conversation +in the drawing room, waiting for Boris to come out. She was already +growing impatient, and stamped her foot, ready to cry at his not +coming at once, when she heard the young man's discreet steps +approaching neither quickly nor slowly. At this Natasha dashed swiftly +among the flower tubs and hid there. + +Boris paused in the middle of the room, looked round, brushed a +little dust from the sleeve of his uniform, and going up to a mirror +examined his handsome face. Natasha, very still, peered out from her +ambush, waiting to see what he would do. He stood a little while +before the glass, smiled, and walked toward the other door. Natasha +was about to call him but changed her mind. "Let him look for me," +thought she. Hardly had Boris gone than Sonya, flushed, in tears, +and muttering angrily, came in at the other door. Natasha checked +her first impulse to run out to her, and remained in her hiding place, +watching- as under an invisible cap- to see what went on in the world. +She was experiencing a new and peculiar pleasure. Sonya, muttering +to herself, kept looking round toward the drawing-room door. It opened +and Nicholas came in. + +"Sonya, what is the matter with you? How can you?" said he, +running up to her. + +"It's nothing, nothing; leave me alone!" sobbed Sonya. + +"Ah, I know what it is." + +"Well, if you do, so much the better, and you can go back to her!" + +"So-o-onya! Look here! How can you torture me and yourself like +that, for a mere fancy?" said Nicholas taking her hand. + +Sonya did not pull it away, and left off crying. Natasha, not +stirring and scarcely breathing, watched from her ambush with +sparkling eyes. "What will happen now?" thought she. + +"Sonya! What is anyone in the world to me? You alone are +everything!" said Nicholas. "And I will prove it to you." + +"I don't like you to talk like that." + +"Well, then, I won't; only forgive me, Sonya!" He drew her to him +and kissed her. + +"Oh, how nice," thought Natasha; and when Sonya and Nicholas had +gone out of the conservatory she followed and called Boris to her. + +"Boris, come here," said she with a sly and significant look. "I +have something to tell you. Here, here!" and she led him into the +conservatory to the place among the tubs where she had been hiding. + +Boris followed her, smiling. + +"What is the something?" asked he. + +She grew confused, glanced round, and, seeing the doll she had +thrown down on one of the tubs, picked it up. + +"Kiss the doll," said she. + +Boris looked attentively and kindly at her eager face, but did not +reply. + +"Don't you want to? Well, then, come here," said she, and went +further in among the plants and threw down the doll. "Closer, closer!" +she whispered. + +She caught the young officer by his cuffs, and a look of solemnity +and fear appeared on her flushed face. + +"And me? Would you like to kiss me?" she whispered almost inaudibly, +glancing up at him from under her brows, smiling, and almost crying +from excitement. + +Boris blushed. + +"How funny you are!" he said, bending down to her and blushing still +more, but he waited and did nothing. + +Suddenly she jumped up onto a tub to be higher than he, embraced him +so that both her slender bare arms clasped him above his neck, and, +tossing back her hair, kissed him full on the lips. + +Then she slipped down among the flowerpots on the other side of +the tubs and stood, hanging her head. + +"Natasha," he said, "you know that I love you, but..." + +"You are in love with me?" Natasha broke in. + +"Yes, I am, but please don't let us do like that.... In another four +years... then I will ask for your hand." + +Natasha considered. + +"Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen," she counted on her slender +little fingers. "All right! Then it's settled?" + +A smile of joy and satisfaction lit up her eager face. + +"Settled!" replied Boris. + +"Forever?" said the little girl. "Till death itself?" + +She took his arm and with a happy face went with him into the +adjoining sitting room. + +CHAPTER XIV + +After receiving her visitors, the countess was so tired that she +gave orders to admit no more, but the porter was told to be sure to +invite to dinner all who came "to congratulate." The countess wished +to have a tete-a-tete talk with the friend of her childhood, +Princess Anna Mikhaylovna, whom she had not seen properly since she +returned from Petersburg. Anna Mikhaylovna, with her tear-worn but +pleasant face, drew her chair nearer to that of the countess. + +"With you I will be quite frank," said Anna Mikhaylovna. "There +are not many left of us old friends! That's why I so value your +friendship." + +Anna Mikhaylovna looked at Vera and paused. The countess pressed her +friend's hand. + +"Vera," she said to her eldest daughter who was evidently not a +favorite, "how is it you have so little tact? Don't you see you are +not wanted here? Go to the other girls, or..." + +The handsome Vera smiled contemptuously but did not seem at all +hurt. + +"If you had told me sooner, Mamma, I would have gone," she replied +as she rose to go to her own room. + +But as she passed the sitting room she noticed two couples +sitting, one pair at each window. She stopped and smiled scornfully. +Sonya was sitting close to Nicholas who was copying out some verses +for her, the first he had ever written. Boris and Natasha were at +the other window and ceased talking when Vera entered. Sonya and +Natasha looked at Vera with guilty, happy faces. + +It was pleasant and touching to see these little girls in love; +but apparently the sight of them roused no pleasant feeling in Vera. + +"How often have I asked you not to take my things?" she said. "You +have a room of your own," and she took the inkstand from Nicholas. + +"In a minute, in a minute," he said, dipping his pen. + +"You always manage to do things at the wrong time," continued +Vera. "You came rushing into the drawing room so that everyone felt +ashamed of you." + +Though what she said was quite just, perhaps for that very reason no +one replied, and the four simply looked at one another. She lingered +in the room with the inkstand in her hand. + +"And at your age what secrets can there be between Natasha and +Boris, or between you two? It's all nonsense!" + +"Now, Vera, what does it matter to you?" said Natasha in defense, +speaking very gently. + +She seemed that day to be more than ever kind and affectionate to +everyone. + +"Very silly," said Vera. "I am ashamed of you. Secrets indeed!" + +"All have secrets of their own," answered Natasha, getting warmer. +"We don't interfere with you and Berg." + +"I should think not," said Vera, "because there can never be +anything wrong in my behavior. But I'll just tell Mamma how you are +behaving with Boris." + +"Natalya Ilynichna behaves very well to me," remarked Boris. "I have +nothing to complain of." + +"Don't, Boris! You are such a diplomat that it is really +tiresome," said Natasha in a mortified voice that trembled slightly. +(She used the word "diplomat," which was just then much in vogue among +the children, in the special sense they attached to it.) "Why does she +bother me?" And she added, turning to Vera, "You'll never understand +it, because you've never loved anyone. You have no heart! You are a +Madame de Genlis and nothing more" (this nickname, bestowed on Vera by +Nicholas, was considered very stinging), "and your greatest pleasure +is to be unpleasant to people! Go and flirt with Berg as much as you +please," she finished quickly. + +"I shall at any rate not run after a young man before visitors..." + +"Well, now you've done what you wanted," put in Nicholas- "said +unpleasant things to everyone and upset them. Let's go to the +nursery." + +All four, like a flock of scared birds, got up and left the room. + +"The unpleasant things were said to me," remarked Vera, "I said none +to anyone." + +"Madame de Genlis! Madame de Genlis!" shouted laughing voices +through the door. + +The handsome Vera, who produced such an irritating and unpleasant +effect on everyone, smiled and, evidently unmoved by what had been +said to her, went to the looking glass and arranged her hair and +scarf. Looking at her own handsome face she seemed to become still +colder and calmer. + +In the drawing room the conversation was still going on. + +"Ah, my dear," said the countess, "my life is not all roses +either. Don't I know that at the rate we are living our means won't +last long? It's all the Club and his easygoing nature. Even in the +country do we get any rest? Theatricals, hunting, and heaven knows +what besides! But don't let's talk about me; tell me how you managed +everything. I often wonder at you, Annette- how at your age you can +rush off alone in a carriage to Moscow, to Petersburg, to those +ministers and great people, and know how to deal with them all! It's +quite astonishing. How did you get things settled? I couldn't possibly +do it." + +"Ah, my love," answered Anna Mikhaylovna, "God grant you never +know what it is to be left a widow without means and with a son you +love to distraction! One learns many things then," she added with a +certain pride. "That lawsuit taught me much. When I want to see one of +those big people I write a note: 'Princess So-and-So desires an +interview with So and-So,' and then I take a cab and go myself two, +three, or four times- till I get what I want. I don't mind what they +think of me." + +"Well, and to whom did you apply about Bory?" asked the countess. +"You see yours is already an officer in the Guards, while my +Nicholas is going as a cadet. There's no one to interest himself for +him. To whom did you apply?" + +"To Prince Vasili. He was so kind. He at once agreed to +everything, and put the matter before the Emperor," said Princess Anna +Mikhaylovna enthusiastically, quite forgetting all the humiliation she +had endured to gain her end. + +"Has Prince Vasili aged much?" asked the countess. "I have not +seen him since we acted together at the Rumyantsovs' theatricals. I +expect he has forgotten me. He paid me attentions in those days," said +the countess, with a smile. + +"He is just the same as ever," replied Anna Mikhaylovna, +"overflowing with amiability. His position has not turned his head +at all. He said to me, 'I am sorry I can do so little for you, dear +Princess. I am at your command.' Yes, he is a fine fellow and a very +kind relation. But, Nataly, you know my love for my son: I would do +anything for his happiness! And my affairs are in such a bad way +that my position is now a terrible one," continued Anna Mikhaylovna, +sadly, dropping her voice. "My wretched lawsuit takes all I have and +makes no progress. Would you believe it, I have literally not a +penny and don't know how to equip Boris." She took out her +handkerchief and began to cry. "I need five hundred rubles, and have +only one twenty-five-ruble note. I am in such a state.... My only hope +now is in Count Cyril Vladimirovich Bezukhov. If he will not assist +his godson- you know he is Bory's godfather- and allow him something +for his maintenance, all my trouble will have been thrown away.... I +shall not be able to equip him." + +The countess' eyes filled with tears and she pondered in silence. + +"I often think, though, perhaps it's a sin," said the princess, +"that here lives Count Cyril Vladimirovich Bezukhov so rich, all +alone... that tremendous fortune... and what is his life worth? It's a +burden to him, and Bory's life is only just beginning...." + +"Surely he will leave something to Boris," said the countess. + +"Heaven only knows, my dear! These rich grandees are so selfish. +Still, I will take Boris and go to see him at once, and I shall +speak to him straight out. Let people think what they will of me, it's +really all the same to me when my son's fate is at stake." The +princess rose. "It's now two o'clock and you dine at four. There +will just be time." + +And like a practical Petersburg lady who knows how to make the +most of time, Anna Mikhaylovna sent someone to call her son, and +went into the anteroom with him. + +"Good-by, my dear," said she to the countess who saw her to the +door, and added in a whisper so that her son should not hear, "Wish me +good luck." + +"Are you going to Count Cyril Vladimirovich, my dear?" said the +count coming out from the dining hall into the anteroom, and he added: +"If he is better, ask Pierre to dine with us. He has been to the +house, you know, and danced with the children. Be sure to invite +him, my dear. We will see how Taras distinguishes himself today. He +says Count Orlov never gave such a dinner as ours will be!" + +CHAPTER XV + +"My dear Boris," said Princess Anna Mikhaylovna to her son as +Countess Rostova's carriage in which they were seated drove over the +straw covered street and turned into the wide courtyard of Count Cyril +Vladimirovich Bezukhov's house. "My dear Boris," said the mother, +drawing her hand from beneath her old mantle and laying it timidly and +tenderly on her son's arm, "be affectionate and attentive to him. +Count Cyril Vladimirovich is your godfather after all, your future +depends on him. Remember that, my dear, and be nice to him, as you +so well know how to be." + +"If only I knew that anything besides humiliation would come of +it..." answered her son coldly. "But I have promised and will do it +for your sake." + +Although the hall porter saw someone's carriage standing at the +entrance, after scrutinizing the mother and son (who without asking to +be announced had passed straight through the glass porch between the +rows of statues in niches) and looking significantly at the lady's old +cloak, he asked whether they wanted the count or the princesses, +and, hearing that they wished to see the count, said his excellency +was worse today, and that his excellency was not receiving anyone. + +"We may as well go back," said the son in French. + +"My dear!" exclaimed his mother imploringly, again laying her hand +on his arm as if that touch might soothe or rouse him. + +Boris said no more, but looked inquiringly at his mother without +taking off his cloak. + +"My friend," said Anna Mikhaylovna in gentle tones, addressing the +hall porter, I know Count Cyril Vladimirovich is very ill... that's +why I have come... I am a relation. I shall not disturb him, my +friend... I only need see Prince Vasili Sergeevich: he is staying +here, is he not? Please announce me." + +The hall porter sullenly pulled a bell that rang upstairs, and +turned away. + +"Princess Drubetskaya to see Prince Vasili Sergeevich," he called to +a footman dressed in knee breeches, shoes, and a swallow-tail coat, +who ran downstairs and looked over from the halfway landing. + +The mother smoothed the folds of her dyed silk dress before a +large Venetian mirror in the wall, and in her trodden-down shoes +briskly ascended the carpeted stairs. + +"My dear," she said to her son, once more stimulating him by a +touch, "you promised me!" + +The son, lowering his eyes, followed her quietly. + +They entered the large hall, from which one of the doors led to +the apartments assigned to Prince Vasili. + +Just as the mother and son, having reached the middle of the hall, +were about to ask their way of an elderly footman who had sprung up as +they entered, the bronze handle of one of the doors turned and +Prince Vasili came out- wearing a velvet coat with a single star on +his breast, as was his custom when at home- taking leave of a +good-looking, dark-haired man. This was the celebrated Petersburg +doctor, Lorrain. + +"Then it is certain?" said the prince. + +"Prince, humanum est errare,~^ but..." replied the doctor, swallowing +his r's, and pronouncing the Latin words with a French accent. + +^~ To err is human. + +"Very well, very well..." + +Seeing Anna Mikhaylovna and her son, Prince Vasili dismissed the +doctor with a bow and approached them silently and with a look of +inquiry. The son noticed that an expression of profound sorrow +suddenly clouded his mother's face, and he smiled slightly. + +"Ah, Prince! In what sad circumstances we meet again! And how is our +dear invalid?" said she, as though unaware of the cold offensive +look fixed on her. + +Prince Vasili stared at her and at Boris questioningly and +perplexed. Boris bowed politely. Prince Vasili without acknowledging +the bow turned to Anna Mikhaylovna, answering her query by a +movement of the head and lips indicating very little hope for the +patient. + +"Is it possible?" exclaimed Anna Mikhaylovna. "Oh, how awful! It +is terrible to think.... This is my son," she added, indicating Boris. +"He wanted to thank you himself." + +Boris bowed again politely. + +"Believe me, Prince, a mother's heart will never forget what you +have done for us." + +"I am glad I was able to do you a service, my dear Anna +Mikhaylovna," said Prince Vasili, arranging his lace frill, and in +tone and manner, here in Moscow to Anna Mikhaylovna whom he had placed +under an obligation, assuming an air of much greater importance than +he had done in Petersburg at Anna Scherer's reception. + +"Try to serve well and show yourself worthy," added he, addressing +Boris with severity. "I am glad.... Are you here on leave?" he went on +in his usual tone of indifference. + +"I am awaiting orders to join my new regiment, your excellency," +replied Boris, betraying neither annoyance at the prince's brusque +manner nor a desire to enter into conversation, but speaking so +quietly and respectfully that the prince gave him a searching glance. + +"Are you living with your mother?" + +"I am living at Countess Rostova's," replied Boris, again adding, +"your excellency." + +"That is, with Ilya Rostov who married Nataly Shinshina," said +Anna Mikhaylovna. + +"I know, I know," answered Prince Vasili in his monotonous voice. "I +never could understand how Nataly made up her mind to marry that +unlicked bear! A perfectly absurd and stupid fellow, and a gambler +too, I am told." + +"But a very kind man, Prince," said Anna Mikhaylovna with a pathetic +smile, as though she too knew that Count Rostov deserved this censure, +but asked him not to be too hard on the poor old man. "What do the +doctors say?" asked the princess after a pause, her worn face again +expressing deep sorrow. + +"They give little hope," replied the prince. + +"And I should so like to thank Uncle once for all his kindness to me +and Boris. He is his godson," she added, her tone suggesting that this +fact ought to give Prince Vasili much satisfaction. + +Prince Vasili became thoughtful and frowned. Anna Mikhaylovna saw +that he was afraid of finding in her a rival for Count Bezukhov's +fortune, and hastened to reassure him. + +"If it were not for my sincere affection and devotion to Uncle," +said she, uttering the word with peculiar assurance and unconcern, +"I know his character: noble, upright... but you see he has no one +with him except the young princesses.... They are still young...." She +bent her head and continued in a whisper: "Has he performed his +final duty, Prince? How priceless are those last moments! It can +make things no worse, and it is absolutely necessary to prepare him if +he is so ill. We women, Prince," and she smiled tenderly, "always know +how to say these things. I absolutely must see him, however painful it +may be for me. I am used to suffering." + +Evidently the prince understood her, and also understood, as he +had done at Anna Pavlovna's, that it would be difficult to get rid +of Anna Mikhaylovna. + +"Would not such a meeting be too trying for him, dear Anna +Mikhaylovna?" said he. "Let us wait until evening. The doctors are +expecting a crisis." + +"But one cannot delay, Prince, at such a moment! Consider that the +welfare of his soul is at stake. Ah, it is awful: the duties of a +Christian..." + +A door of one of the inner rooms opened and one of the princesses, +the count's niece, entered with a cold, stern face. The length of +her body was strikingly out of proportion to her short legs. Prince +Vasili turned to her. + +"Well, how is he?" + +"Still the same; but what can you expect, this noise..." said the +princess, looking at Anna Mikhaylovna as at a stranger. + +"Ah, my dear, I hardly knew you," said Anna Mikhaylovna with a happy +smile, ambling lightly up to the count's niece. "I have come, and am +at your service to help you nurse my uncle. I imagine what you have +gone through," and she sympathetically turned up her eyes. + +The princess gave no reply and did not even smile, but left the room +at Anna Mikhaylovna took off her gloves and, occupying the position +she had conquered, settled down in an armchair, inviting Prince Vasili +to take a seat beside her. + +"Boris," she said to her son with a smile, "I shall go in to see the +count, my uncle; but you, my dear, had better go to Pierre meanwhile +and don't forget to give him the Rostovs' invitation. They ask him +to dinner. I suppose he won't go?" she continued, turning to the +prince. + +"On the contrary," replied the prince, who had plainly become +depressed, "I shall be only too glad if you relieve me of that young +man.... Here he is, and the count has not once asked for him." + +He shrugged his shoulders. A footman conducted Boris down one flight +of stairs and up another, to Pierre's rooms. + +CHAPTER XVI + +Pierre, after all, had not managed to choose a career for himself in +Petersburg, and had been expelled from there for riotous conduct and +sent to Moscow. The story told about him at Count Rostov's was true. +Pierre had taken part in tying a policeman to a bear. He had now +been for some days in Moscow and was staying as usual at his +father's house. Though he expected that the story of his escapade +would be already known in Moscow and that the ladies about his father- +who were never favorably disposed toward him- would have used it to +turn the count against him, he nevertheless on the day of his +arrival went to his father's part of the house. Entering the drawing +room, where the princesses spent most of their time, he greeted the +ladies, two of whom were sitting at embroidery frames while a third +read aloud. It was the eldest who was reading- the one who had met +Anna Mikhaylovna. The two younger ones were embroidering: both were +rosy and pretty and they differed only in that one had a little mole +on her lip which made her much prettier. Pierre was received as if +he were a corpse or a leper. The eldest princess paused in her reading +and silently stared at him with frightened eyes; the second assumed +precisely the same expression; while the youngest, the one with the +mole, who was of a cheerful and lively disposition, bent over her +frame to hide a smile probably evoked by the amusing scene she +foresaw. She drew her wool down through the canvas and, scarcely +able to refrain from laughing, stooped as if trying to make out the +pattern. + +"How do you do, cousin?" said Pierre. "You don't recognize me?" + +"I recognize you only too well, too well." + +"How is the count? Can I see him?" asked Pierre, awkwardly as usual, +but unabashed. + +"The count is suffering physically and mentally, and apparently +you have done your best to increase his mental sufferings." + +"Can I see the count?" Pierre again asked. + +"Hm.... If you wish to kill him, to kill him outright, you can see +him... Olga, go and see whether Uncle's beef tea is ready- it is +almost time," she added, giving Pierre to understand that they were +busy, and busy making his father comfortable, while evidently he, +Pierre, was only busy causing him annoyance. + +Olga went out. Pierre stood looking at the sisters; then he bowed +and said: "Then I will go to my rooms. You will let me know when I can +see him." + +And he left the room, followed by the low but ringing laughter of +the sister with the mole. + +Next day Prince Vasili had arrived and settled in the count's house. +He sent for Pierre and said to him: "My dear fellow, if you are +going to behave here as you did in Petersburg, you will end very +badly; that is all I have to say to you. The count is very, very +ill, and you must not see him at all." + +Since then Pierre had not been disturbed and had spent the whole +time in his rooms upstairs. + +When Boris appeared at his door Pierre was pacing up and down his +room, stopping occasionally at a corner to make menacing gestures at +the wall, as if running a sword through an invisible foe, and +glaring savagely over his spectacles, and then again resuming his +walk, muttering indistinct words, shrugging his shoulders and +gesticulating. + +"England is done for," said he, scowling and pointing his finger +at someone unseen. "Mr. Pitt, as a traitor to the nation and to the +rights of man, is sentenced to..." But before Pierre- who at that +moment imagined himself to be Napoleon in person and to have just +effected the dangerous crossing of the Straits of Dover and captured +London- could pronounce Pitt's sentence, he saw a well-built and +handsome young officer entering his room. Pierre paused. He had left +Moscow when Boris was a boy of fourteen, and had quite forgotten +him, but in his usual impulsive and hearty way he took Boris by the +hand with a friendly smile. + +"Do you remember me?" asked Boris quietly with a pleasant smile. +"I have come with my mother to see the count, but it seems he is not +well." + +"Yes, it seems he is ill. People are always disturbing him," +answered Pierre, trying to remember who this young man was. + +Boris felt that Pierre did not recognize him but did not consider it +necessary to introduce himself, and without experiencing the least +embarrassment looked Pierre straight in the face. + +"Count Rostov asks you to come to dinner today," said he, after a +considerable pause which made Pierre feel uncomfortable. + +"Ah, Count Rostov!" exclaimed Pierre joyfully. "Then you are his +son, Ilya? Only fancy, I didn't know you at first. Do you remember how +we went to the Sparrow Hills with Madame Jacquot?... It's such an +age..." + +"You are mistaken," said Boris deliberately, with a bold and +slightly sarcastic smile. "I am Boris, son of Princess Anna +Mikhaylovna Drubetskaya. Rostov, the father, is Ilya, and his son is +Nicholas. I never knew any Madame Jacquot." + +Pierre shook his head and arms as if attacked by mosquitoes or bees. + +"Oh dear, what am I thinking about? I've mixed everything up. One +has so many relatives in Moscow! So you are Boris? Of course. Well, +now we know where we are. And what do you think of the Boulogne +expedition? The English will come off badly, you know, if Napoleon +gets across the Channel. I think the expedition is quite feasible. +If only Villeneuve doesn't make a mess of things! + +Boris knew nothing about the Boulogne expedition; he did not read +the papers and it was the first time he had heard Villeneuve's name. + +"We here in Moscow are more occupied with dinner parties and scandal +than with politics," said he in his quiet ironical tone. "I know +nothing about it and have not thought about it. Moscow is chiefly busy +with gossip," he continued. "Just now they are talking about you and +your father." + +Pierre smiled in his good-natured way as if afraid for his +companion's sake that the latter might say something he would +afterwards regret. But Boris spoke distinctly, clearly, and dryly, +looking straight into Pierre's eyes. + +"Moscow has nothing else to do but gossip," Boris went on. +"Everybody is wondering to whom the count will leave his fortune, +though he may perhaps outlive us all, as I sincerely hope he will..." + +"Yes, it is all very horrid," interrupted Pierre, "very horrid." + +Pierre was still afraid that this officer might inadvertently say +something disconcerting to himself. + +"And it must seem to you," said Boris flushing slightly, but not +changing his tone or attitude, "it must seem to you that everyone is +trying to get something out of the rich man?" + +"So it does," thought Pierre. + +"But I just wish to say, to avoid misunderstandings, that you are +quite mistaken if you reckon me or my mother among such people. We are +very poor, but for my own part at any rate, for the very reason that +your father is rich, I don't regard myself as a relation of his, and +neither I nor my mother would ever ask or take anything from him." + +For a long time Pierre could not understand, but when he did, he +jumped up from the sofa, seized Boris under the elbow in his quick, +clumsy way, and, blushing far more than Boris, began to speak with a +feeling of mingled shame and vexation. + +"Well, this is strange! Do you suppose I... who could think?... I +know very well..." + +But Boris again interrupted him. + +"I am glad I have spoken out fully. Perhaps you did not like it? You +must excuse me," said he, putting Pierre at ease instead of being +put at ease by him, "but I hope I have not offended you. I always make +it a rule to speak out... Well, what answer am I to take? Will you +come to dinner at the Rostovs'?" + +And Boris, having apparently relieved himself of an onerous duty and +extricated himself from an awkward situation and placed another in it, +became quite pleasant again. + +"No, but I say," said Pierre, calming down, "you are a wonderful +fellow! What you have just said is good, very good. Of course you +don't know me. We have not met for such a long time... not since we +were children. You might think that I... I understand, quite +understand. I could not have done it myself, I should not have had the +courage, but it's splendid. I am very glad to have made your +acquaintance. It's queer," he added after a pause, "that you should +have suspected me!" He began to laugh. "Well, what of it! I hope we'll +get better acquainted," and he pressed Boris' hand. "Do you know, I +have not once been in to see the count. He has not sent for me.... I +am sorry for him as a man, but what can one do?" + +"And so you think Napoleon will manage to get an army across?" asked +Boris with a smile. + +Pierre saw that Boris wished to change the subject, and being of the +same mind he began explaining the advantages and disadvantages of +the Boulogne expedition. + +A footman came in to summon Boris- the princess was going. Pierre, +in order to make Boris' better acquaintance, promised to come to +dinner, and warmly pressing his hand looked affectionately over his +spectacles into Boris' eyes. After he had gone Pierre continued pacing +up and down the room for a long time, no longer piercing an +imaginary foe with his imaginary sword, but smiling at the remembrance +of that pleasant, intelligent, and resolute young man. + +As often happens in early youth, especially to one who leads a +lonely life, he felt an unaccountable tenderness for this young man +and made up his mind that they would be friends. + +Prince Vasili saw the princess off. She held a handkerchief to her +eyes and her face was tearful. + +"It is dreadful, dreadful!" she was saying, "but cost me what it may +I shall do my duty. I will come and spend the night. He must not be +left like this. Every moment is precious. I can't think why his nieces +put it off. Perhaps God will help me to find a way to prepare +him!... Adieu, Prince! May God support you..." + +"Adieu, ma bonne," answered Prince Vasili turning away from her. + +"Oh, he is in a dreadful state," said the mother to her son when +they were in the carriage. "He hardly recognizes anybody." + +"I don't understand, Mamma- what is his attitude to Pierre?" asked +the son. + +"The will will show that, my dear; our fate also depends on it." + +"But why do you expect that he will leave us anything?" + +"Ah, my dear! He is so rich, and we are so poor!" + +"Well, that is hardly a sufficient reason, Mamma..." + +"Oh, Heaven! How ill he is!" exclaimed the mother. + +CHAPTER XVII + +After Anna Mikhaylovna had driven off with her son to visit Count +Cyril Vladimirovich Bezukhov, Countess Rostova sat for a long time all +alone applying her handkerchief to her eyes. At last she rang. + +"What is the matter with you, my dear?" she said crossly to the maid +who kept her waiting some minutes. "Don't you wish to serve me? Then +I'll find you another place." + +The countess was upset by her friend's sorrow and humiliating +poverty, and was therefore out of sorts, a state of mind which with +her always found expression in calling her maid "my dear" and speaking +to her with exaggerated politeness. + +"I am very sorry, ma'am," answered the maid. + +"Ask the count to come to me." + +The count came waddling in to see his wife with a rather guilty look +as usual. + +"Well, little countess? What a saute of game au madere we are to +have, my dear! I tasted it. The thousand rubles I paid for Taras +were not ill-spent. He is worth it!" + +He sat down by his wife, his elbows on his knees and his hands +ruffling his gray hair. + +"What are your commands, little countess?" + +"You see, my dear... What's that mess?" she said, pointing to his +waistcoat. "It's, the saute, most likely," she added with a smile. +"Well, you see, Count, I want some money." + +Her face became sad. + +"Oh, little countess!"... and the count began bustling to get out +his pocketbook. + +"I want a great deal, Count! I want five hundred rubles," and taking +out her cambric handkerchief she began wiping her husband's waistcoat. + +"Yes, immediately, immediately! Hey, who's there?" he called out +in a tone only used by persons who are certain that those they call +will rush to obey the summons. "Send Dmitri to me!" + +Dmitri, a man of good family who had been brought up in the +count's house and now managed all his affairs, stepped softly into the +room. + +"This is what I want, my dear fellow," said the count to the +deferential young man who had entered. "Bring me..." he reflected a +moment, "yes, bring me seven hundred rubles, yes! But mind, don't +bring me such tattered and dirty notes as last time, but nice clean +ones for the countess." + +"Yes, Dmitri, clean ones, please," said the countess, sighing +deeply. + +"When would you like them, your excellency?" asked Dmitri. "Allow me +to inform you... But, don't be uneasy," he added, noticing that the +count was beginning to breathe heavily and quickly which was always +a sign of approaching anger. "I was forgetting... Do you wish it +brought at once?" + +"Yes, yes; just so! Bring it. Give it to the countess." + +"What a treasure that Dmitri is," added the count with a smile +when the young man had departed. "There is never any 'impossible' with +him. That's a thing I hate! Everything is possible." + +"Ah, money, Count, money! How much sorrow it causes in the world," +said the countess. "But I am in great need of this sum." + +"You, my little countess, are a notorious spendthrift," said the +count, and having kissed his wife's hand he went back to his study. + +When Anna Mikhaylovna returned from Count Bezukhov's the money, +all in clean notes, was lying ready under a handkerchief on the +countess' little table, and Anna Mikhaylovna noticed that something +was agitating her. + +"Well, my dear?" asked the countess. + +"Oh, what a terrible state he is in! One would not know him, he is +so ill! I was only there a few moments and hardly said a word..." + +"Annette, for heaven's sake don't refuse me," the countess began, +with a blush that looked very strange on her thin, dignified, +elderly face, and she took the money from under the handkerchief. + +Anna Mikhaylovna instantly guessed her intention and stooped to be +ready to embrace the countess at the appropriate moment. + +"This is for Boris from me, for his outfit." + +Anna Mikhaylovna was already embracing her and weeping. The countess +wept too. They wept because they were friends, and because they were +kindhearted, and because they- friends from childhood- had to think +about such a base thing as money, and because their youth was over.... +But those tears were pleasant to them both. + +CHAPTER XVIII + +Countess Rostova, with her daughters and a large number of guests, +was already seated in the drawing room. The count took the gentlemen +into his study and showed them his choice collection of Turkish pipes. +From time to time he went out to ask: "Hasn't she come yet?" They were +expecting Marya Dmitrievna Akhrosimova, known in society as le +terrible dragon, a lady distinguished not for wealth or rank, but +for common sense and frank plainness of speech. Marya Dmitrievna was +known to the Imperial family as well as to all Moscow and +Petersburg, and both cities wondered at her, laughed privately at +her rudenesses, and told good stories about her, while none the less +all without exception respected and feared her. + +In the count's room, which was full of tobacco smoke, they talked of +war that had been announced in a manifesto, and about the +recruiting. None of them had yet seen the manifesto, but they all knew +it had appeared. The count sat on the sofa between two guests who were +smoking and talking. He neither smoked nor talked, but bending his +head first to one side and then to the other watched the smokers +with evident pleasure and listened to the conversation of his two +neighbors, whom he egged on against each other. + +One of them was a sallow, clean-shaven civilian with a thin and +wrinkled face, already growing old, though he was dressed like a +most fashionable young man. He sat with his legs up on the sofa as +if quite at home and, having stuck an amber mouthpiece far into his +mouth, was inhaling the smoke spasmodically and screwing up his +eyes. This was an old bachelor, Shinshin, a cousin of the countess', a +man with "a sharp tongue" as they said in Moscow society. He seemed to +be condescending to his companion. The latter, a fresh, rosy officer +of the Guards, irreproachably washed, brushed, and buttoned, held +his pipe in the middle of his mouth and with red lips gently inhaled +the smoke, letting it escape from his handsome mouth in rings. This +was Lieutenant Berg, an officer in the Semenov regiment with whom +Boris was to travel to join the army, and about whom Natasha had, +teased her elder sister Vera, speaking of Berg as her "intended." +The count sat between them and listened attentively. His favorite +occupation when not playing boston, a card game he was very fond of, +was that of listener, especially when he succeeded in setting two +loquacious talkers at one another. + +"Well, then, old chap, mon tres honorable Alphonse Karlovich," +said Shinshin, laughing ironically and mixing the most ordinary +Russian expressions with the choicest French phrases- which was a +peculiarity of his speech. "Vous comptez vous faire des rentes sur +l'etat;~^ you want to make something out of your company?" + +^~ You expect to make an income out of the government. + +"No, Peter Nikolaevich; I only want to show that in the cavalry +the advantages are far less than in the infantry. Just consider my own +position now, Peter Nikolaevich..." + +Berg always spoke quietly, politely, and with great precision. His +conversation always related entirely to himself; he would remain +calm and silent when the talk related to any topic that had no +direct bearing on himself. He could remain silent for hours without +being at all put out of countenance himself or making others +uncomfortable, but as soon as the conversation concerned himself he +would begin to talk circumstantially and with evident satisfaction. + +"Consider my position, Peter Nikolaevich. Were I in the cavalry I +should get not more than two hundred rubles every four months, even +with the rank of lieutenant; but as it is I receive two hundred and +thirty," said he, looking at Shinshin and the count with a joyful, +pleasant smile, as if it were obvious to him that his success must +always be the chief desire of everyone else. + +"Besides that, Peter Nikolaevich, by exchanging into the Guards I +shall be in a more prominent position," continued Berg, "and vacancies +occur much more frequently in the Foot Guards. Then just think what +can be done with two hundred and thirty rubles! I even manage to put a +little aside and to send something to my father," he went on, emitting +a smoke ring. + +"La balance y est...~^ A German knows how to skin a flint, as the +proverb says," remarked Shinshin, moving his pipe to the other side of +his mouth and winking at the count. + +^~ So that squares matters. + +The count burst out laughing. The other guests seeing that +Shinshin was talking came up to listen. Berg, oblivious of irony or +indifference, continued to explain how by exchanging into the Guards +he had already gained a step on his old comrades of the Cadet Corps; +how in wartime the company commander might get killed and he, as +senior in the company, might easily succeed to the post; how popular +he was with everyone in the regiment, and how satisfied his father was +with him. Berg evidently enjoyed narrating all this, and did not +seem to suspect that others, too, might have their own interests. +But all he said was so prettily sedate, and the naivete of his +youthful egotism was so obvious, that he disarmed his hearers. + +"Well, my boy, you'll get along wherever you go- foot or horse- that +I'll warrant," said Shinshin, patting him on the shoulder and taking +his feet off the sofa. + +Berg smiled joyously. The count, by his guests, went into the +drawing room. + +It was just the moment before a big dinner when the assembled +guests, expecting the summons to zakuska,~^ avoid engaging in any +long conversation but think it necessary to move about and talk, in +order to show that they are not at all impatient for their food. The +host and hostess look toward the door, and now and then glance at +one another, and the visitors try to guess from these glances who, +or what, they are waiting for- some important relation who has not yet +arrived, or a dish that is not yet ready. + +^~ Hors d'oeuvres. + +Pierre had come just at dinnertime and was sitting awkwardly in +the middle of the drawing room on the first chair he had come +across, blocking the way for everyone. The countess tried to make +him talk, but he went on naively looking around through his spectacles +as if in search of somebody and answered all her questions in +monosyllables. He was in the way and was the only one who did not +notice the fact. Most of the guests, knowing of the affair with the +bear, looked with curiosity at this big, stout, quiet man, wondering +how such a clumsy, modest fellow could have played such a prank on a +policeman. + +"You have only lately arrived?" the countess asked him. + +"Oui, madame," replied he, looking around him. + +"You have not yet seen my husband?" + +"Non, madame." He smiled quite inappropriately. + +"You have been in Paris recently, I believe? I suppose it's very +interesting." + +"Very interesting." + +The countess exchanged glances with Anna Mikhaylovna. The latter +understood that she was being asked to entertain this young man, and +sitting down beside him she began to speak about his father; but he +answered her, as he had the countess, only in monosyllables. The other +guests were all conversing with one another. "The Razumovskis... It +was charming... You are very kind... Countess Apraksina..." was +heard on all sides. The countess rose and went into the ballroom. + +"Marya Dmitrievna?" came her voice from there. + +"Herself," came the answer in a rough voice, and Marya Dmitrievna +entered the room. + +All the unmarried ladies and even the married ones except the very +oldest rose. Marya Dmitrievna paused at the door. Tall and stout, +holding high her fifty-year-old head with its gray curls, she stood +surveying the guests, and leisurely arranged her wide sleeves as if +rolling them up. Marya Dmitrievna always spoke in Russian. + +"Health and happiness to her whose name day we are keeping and to +her children," she said, in her loud, full-toned voice which drowned +all others. "Well, you old sinner," she went on, turning to the +count who was kissing her hand, "you're feeling dull in Moscow, I +daresay? Nowhere to hunt with your dogs? But what is to be done, old +man? Just see how these nestlings are growing up," and she pointed +to the girls. "You must look for husbands for them whether you like it +or not...." + +Well," said she, "how's my Cossack?" (Marya Dmitrievna always called +Natasha a Cossack) and she stroked the child's arm as she came up +fearless and gay to kiss her hand. "I know she's a scamp of a girl, +but I like her." + +She took a pair of pear-shaped ruby earrings from her huge +reticule and, having given them to the rosy Natasha, who beamed with +the pleasure of her saint's-day fete, turned away at once and +addressed herself to Pierre. + +"Eh, eh, friend! Come here a bit," said she, assuming a soft high +tone of voice. "Come here, my friend..." and she ominously tucked up +her sleeves still higher. Pierre approached, looking at her in a +childlike way through his spectacles. + +"Come nearer, come nearer, friend! I used to be the only one to tell +your father the truth when he was in favor, and in your case it's my +evident duty." She paused. All were silent, expectant of what was to +follow, for this was dearly only a prelude. + +"A fine lad! My word! A fine lad!... His father lies on his deathbed +and he amuses himself setting a policeman astride a bear! For shame, +sir, for shame! It would be better if you went to the war." + +She turned away and gave her hand to the count, who could hardly +keep from laughing. + +"Well, I suppose it is time we were at table?" said Marya +Dmitrievna. + +The count went in first with Marya Dmitrievna, the countess followed +on the arm of a colonel of hussars, a man of importance to them +because Nicholas was to go with him to the regiment; then came Anna +Mikhaylovna with Shinshin. Berg gave his arm to Vera. The smiling +Julie Karagina went in with Nicholas. After them other couples +followed, filling the whole dining hall, and last of all the children, +tutors, and governesses followed singly. The footmen began moving +about, chairs scraped, the band struck up in the gallery, and the +guests settled down in their places. Then the strains of the count's +household band were replaced by the clatter of knives and forks, the +voices of visitors, and the soft steps of the footmen. At one end of +the table sat the countess with Marya Dmitrievna on her right and Anna +Mikhaylovna on her left, the other lady visitors were farther down. At +the other end sat the count, with the hussar colonel on his left and +Shinshin and the other male visitors on his right. Midway down the +long table on one side sat the grownup young people: Vera beside Berg, +and Pierre beside Boris; and on the other side, the children, +tutors, and governesses. From behind the crystal decanters and fruit +vases the count kept glancing at his wife and her tall cap with its +light-blue ribbons, and busily filled his neighbors' glasses, not +neglecting his own. The countess in turn, without omitting her +duties as hostess, threw significant glances from behind the +pineapples at her husband whose face and bald head seemed by their +redness to contrast more than usual with his gray hair. At the ladies' +end an even chatter of voices was heard all the time, at the men's end +the voices sounded louder and louder, especially that of the colonel +of hussars who, growing more and more flushed, ate and drank so much +that the count held him up as a pattern to the other guests. Berg with +tender smiles was saying to Vera that love is not an earthly but a +heavenly feeling. Boris was telling his new friend Pierre who the +guests were and exchanging glances with Natasha, who was sitting +opposite. Pierre spoke little but examined the new faces, and ate a +great deal. Of the two soups he chose turtle with savory patties and +went on to the game without omitting a single dish or one of the +wines. These latter the butler thrust mysteriously forward, wrapped in +a napkin, from behind the next man's shoulders and whispered: "Dry +Madeira"... "Hungarian"... or "Rhine wine" as the case might be. Of +the four crystal glasses engraved with the count's monogram that stood +before his plate, Pierre held out one at random and drank with +enjoyment, gazing with ever-increasing amiability at the other guests. +Natasha, who sat opposite, was looking at Boris as girls of thirteen +look at the boy they are in love with and have just kissed for the +first time. Sometimes that same look fell on Pierre, and that funny +lively little girl's look made him inclined to laugh without knowing +why. + +Nicholas sat at some distance from Sonya, beside Julie Karagina, +to whom he was again talking with the same involuntary smile. Sonya +wore a company smile but was evidently tormented by jealousy; now +she turned pale, now blushed and strained every nerve to overhear what +Nicholas and Julie were saying to one another. The governess kept +looking round uneasily as if preparing to resent any slight that might +be put upon the children. The German tutor was trying to remember +all the dishes, wines, and kinds of dessert, in order to send a full +description of the dinner to his people in Germany; and he felt +greatly offended when the butler with a bottle wrapped in a napkin +passed him by. He frowned, trying to appear as if he did not want +any of that wine, but was mortified because no one would understand +that it was not to quench his thirst or from greediness that he wanted +it, but simply from a conscientious desire for knowledge. + +CHAPTER XIX + +At the men's end of the table the talk grew more and more +animated. The colonel told them that the declaration of war had +already appeared in Petersburg and that a copy, which he had himself +seen, had that day been forwarded by courier to the commander in +chief. + +"And why the deuce are we going to fight Bonaparte?" remarked +Shinshin. "He has stopped Austria's cackle and I fear it will be our +turn next." + +The colonel was a stout, tall, plethoric German, evidently devoted +to the service and patriotically Russian. He resented Shinshin's +remark. + +"It is for the reasson, my goot sir," said he, speaking with a +German accent, "for the reasson zat ze Emperor knows zat. He +declares in ze manifessto zat he cannot fiew wiz indifference ze +danger vreatening Russia and zat ze safety and dignity of ze Empire as +vell as ze sanctity of its alliances..." he spoke this last word +with particular emphasis as if in it lay the gist of the matter. + +Then with the unerring official memory that characterized him he +repeated from the opening words of the manifesto: + +... and the wish, which constitutes the Emperor's sole and +absolute aim- to establish peace in Europe on firm foundations- has +now decided him to despatch part of the army abroad and to create a +new condition for the attainment of that purpose. + +"Zat, my dear sir, is vy..." he concluded, drinking a tumbler of +wine with dignity and looking to the count for approval. + +"Connaissez-vous le Proverbe:~^ 'Jerome, Jerome, do not roam, but +turn spindles at home!'?" said Shinshin, puckering his brows and +smiling. "Cela nous convient a merveille.~^ Suvorov now- he knew +what he was about; yet they beat him a plate couture,~^ and where +are we to find Suvorovs now? Je vous demande un peu,"~^ said he, +continually changing from French to Russian. + +^~ Do you know the proverb? + +^~ That suits us down to the ground. + +^~ Hollow. + +^~ I just ask you that. + +"Ve must vight to the last tr-r-op of our plood!" said the +colonel, thumping the table; "and ve must tie for our Emperor, and zen +all vill pe vell. And ve must discuss it as little as po-o-ossible"... +he dwelt particularly on the word possible... "as po-o-ossible," he +ended, again turning to the count. "Zat is how ve old hussars look +at it, and zere's an end of it! And how do you, a young man and a +young hussar, how do you judge of it?" he added, addressing +Nicholas, who when he heard that the war was being discussed had +turned from his partner with eyes and ears intent on the colonel. + +"I am quite of your opinion," replied Nicholas, flaming up, +turning his plate round and moving his wineglasses about with as +much decision and desperation as though he were at that moment +facing some great danger. "I am convinced that we Russians must die or +conquer," he concluded, conscious- as were others- after the words +were uttered that his remarks were too enthusiastic and emphatic for +the occasion and were therefore awkward. + +"What you said just now was splendid!" said his partner Julie. + +Sonya trembled all over and blushed to her ears and behind them +and down to her neck and shoulders while Nicholas was speaking. + +Pierre listened to the colonel's speech and nodded approvingly. + +"That's fine," said he. + +"The young man's a real hussar!" shouted the colonel, again thumping +the table. + +"What are you making such a noise about over there?" Marya +Dmitrievna's deep voice suddenly inquired from the other end of the +table. "What are you thumping the table for?" she demanded of the +hussar, "and why are you exciting yourself? Do you think the French +are here?" + +"I am speaking ze truce," replied the hussar with a smile. + +"It's all about the war," the count shouted down the table. "You +know my son's going, Marya Dmitrievna? My son is going." + +"I have four sons in the army but still I don't fret. It is all in +God's hands. You may die in your bed or God may spare you in a +battle," replied Marya Dmitrievna's deep voice, which easily carried +the whole length of the table. + +"That's true!" + +Once more the conversations concentrated, the ladies' at the one end +and the men's at the other. + +"You won't ask," Natasha's little brother was saying; "I know you +won't ask!" + +"I will," replied Natasha. + +Her face suddenly flushed with reckless and joyous resolution. She +half rose, by a glance inviting Pierre, who sat opposite, to listen to +what was coming, and turning to her mother: + +"Mamma!" rang out the clear contralto notes of her childish voice, +audible the whole length of the table. + +"What is it?" asked the countess, startled; but seeing by her +daughter's face that it was only mischief, she shook a finger at her +sternly with a threatening and forbidding movement of her head. + +The conversation was hushed. + +"Mamma! What sweets are we going to have?" and Natasha's voice +sounded still more firm and resolute. + +The countess tried to frown, but could not. Marya Dmitrievna shook +her fat finger. + +"Cossack!" she said threateningly. + +Most of the guests, uncertain how to regard this sally, looked at +the elders. + +"You had better take care!" said the countess. + +"Mamma! What sweets are we going to have?" Natasha again cried +boldly, with saucy gaiety, confident that her prank would be taken +in good part. + +Sonya and fat little Petya doubled up with laughter. + +"You see! I have asked," whispered Natasha to her little brother and +to Pierre, glancing at him again. + +"Ice pudding, but you won't get any," said Marya Dmitrievna. + +Natasha saw there was nothing to be afraid of and so she braved even +Marya Dmitrievna. + +"Marya Dmitrievna! What kind of ice pudding? I don't like ice +cream." + +"Carrot ices." + +"No! What kind, Marya Dmitrievna? What kind?" she almost screamed; +"I want to know!" + +Marya Dmitrievna and the countess burst out laughing, and all the +guests joined in. Everyone laughed, not at Marya Dmitrievna's answer +but at the incredible boldness and smartness of this little girl who +had dared to treat Marya Dmitrievna in this fashion. + +Natasha only desisted when she had been told that there would be +pineapple ice. Before the ices, champagne was served round. The band +again struck up, the count and countess kissed, and the guests, +leaving their seats, went up to "congratulate" the countess, and +reached across the table to clink glasses with the count, with the +children, and with one another. Again the footmen rushed about, chairs +scraped, and in the same order in which they had entered but with +redder faces, the guests returned to the drawing room and to the +count's study. + +CHAPTER XX + +The card tables were drawn out, sets made up for boston, and the +count's visitors settled themselves, some in the two drawing rooms, +some in the sitting room, some in the library. + +The count, holding his cards fanwise, kept himself with difficulty +from dropping into his usual after-dinner nap, and laughed at +everything. The young people, at the countess' instigation, gathered +round the clavichord and harp. Julie by general request played +first. After she had played a little air with variations on the +harp, she joined the other young ladies in begging Natasha and +Nicholas, who were noted for their musical talent, to sing +something. Natasha, who was treated as though she were grown up, was +evidently very proud of this but at the same time felt shy. + +"What shall we sing?" she said. + +"'The Brook,'" suggested Nicholas. + +"Well, then,let's be quick. Boris, come here," said Natasha. "But +where is Sonya?" + +She looked round and seeing that her friend was not in the room +ran to look for her. + +Running into Sonya's room and not finding her there, Natasha ran +to the nursery, but Sonya was not there either. Natasha concluded that +she must be on the chest in the passage. The chest in the passage +was the place of mourning for the younger female generation in the +Rostov household. And there in fact was Sonya lying face downward on +Nurse's dirty feather bed on the top of the chest, crumpling her gauzy +pink dress under her, hiding her face with her slender fingers, and +sobbing so convulsively that her bare little shoulders shook. +Natasha's face, which had been so radiantly happy all that saint's +day, suddenly changed: her eyes became fixed, and then a shiver passed +down her broad neck and the corners of her mouth drooped. + +"Sonya! What is it? What is the matter?... Oo... Oo... Oo...!" And +Natasha's large mouth widened, making her look quite ugly, and she +began to wail like a baby without knowing why, except that Sonya was +crying. Sonya tried to lift her head to answer but could not, and +hid her face still deeper in the bed. Natasha wept, sitting on the +blue-striped feather bed and hugging her friend. With an effort +Sonya sat up and began wiping her eyes and explaining. + +"Nicholas is going away in a week's time, his... papers... have +come... he told me himself... but still I should not cry," and she +showed a paper she held in her hand- with the verses Nicholas had +written, "still, I should not cry, but you can't... no one can +understand... what a soul he has!" + +And she began to cry again because he had such a noble soul. + +"It's all very well for you... I am not envious... I love you and +Boris also," she went on, gaining a little strength; "he is nice... +there are no difficulties in your way.... But Nicholas is my cousin... +one would have to... the Metropolitan himself... and even then it +can't be done. And besides, if she tells Mamma" (Sonya looked upon the +countess as her mother and called her so) "that I am spoiling +Nicholas' career and am heartless and ungrateful, while truly... God +is my witness," and she made the sign of the cross, "I love her so +much, and all of you, only Vera... And what for? What have I done to +her? I am so grateful to you that I would willingly sacrifice +everything, only I have nothing...." + +Sonya could not continue, and again hid her face in her hands and in +the feather bed. Natasha began consoling her, but her face showed that +she understood all the gravity of her friend's trouble. + +"Sonya," she suddenly exclaimed, as if she had guessed the true +reason of her friend's sorrow, "I'm sure Vera has said something to +you since dinner? Hasn't she?" + +"Yes, these verses Nicholas wrote himself and I copied some +others, and she found them on my table and said she'd show them to +Mamma, and that I was ungrateful, and that Mamma would never allow him +to marry me, but that he'll marry Julie. You see how he's been with +her all day... Natasha, what have I done to deserve it?..." + +And again she began to sob, more bitterly than before. Natasha +lifted her up, hugged her, and, smiling through her tears, began +comforting her. + +"Sonya, don't believe her, darling! Don't believe her! Do you +remember how we and Nicholas, all three of us, talked in the sitting +room after supper? Why, we settled how everything was to be. I don't +quite remember how, but don't you remember that it could all be +arranged and how nice it all was? There's Uncle Shinshin's brother has +married his first cousin. And we are only second cousins, you know. +And Boris says it is quite possible. You know I have told him all +about it. And he is so clever and so good!" said Natasha. "Don't you +cry, Sonya, dear love, darling Sonya!" and she kissed her and laughed. +"Vera's spiteful; never mind her! And all will come right and she +won't say anything to Mamma. Nicholas will tell her himself, and he +doesn't care at all for Julie." + +Natasha kissed her on the hair. + +Sonya sat up. The little kitten brightened, its eyes shone, and it +seemed ready to lift its tail, jump down on its soft paws, and begin +playing with the ball of worsted as a kitten should. + +"Do you think so?... Really? Truly?" she said, quickly smoothing her +frock and hair. + +"Really, truly!" answered Natasha, pushing in a crisp lock that +had strayed from under her friend's plaits. + +Both laughed. + +"Well, let's go and sing 'The Brook.'" + +"Come along!" + +"Do you know, that fat Pierre who sat opposite me is so funny!" said +Natasha, stopping suddenly. "I feel so happy!" + +And she set off at a run along the passage. + +Sonya, shaking off some down which clung to her and tucking away the +verses in the bosom of her dress close to her bony little chest, ran +after Natasha down the passage into the sitting room with flushed face +and light, joyous steps. At the visitors' request the young people +sang the quartette, "The Brook," with which everyone was delighted. +Then Nicholas sang a song he had just learned: + +_1 At nighttime in the moon's fair glow<br> +How sweet, as fancies wander free,<br> +To feel that in this world there's one<br> +Who still is thinking but of thee! + +_1 That while her fingers touch the harp<br> +Wafting sweet music music the lea,<br> +It is for thee thus swells her heart,<br> +Sighing its message out to thee... + +_1 A day or two, then bliss unspoilt,<br> +But oh! till then I cannot live!... + +He had not finished the last verse before the young people began +to get ready to dance in the large hall, and the sound of the feet and +the coughing of the musicians were heard from the gallery. + +Pierre was sitting in the drawing-room where Shinshin had engaged +him, as a man recently returned from abroad, in a political +conversation in which several others joined but which bored Pierre. +When the music began Natasha came in and walking straight up to Pierre +said, laughing and blushing: + +"Mamma told me to ask you to join the dancers." + +"I am afraid of mixing the figures," Pierre replied; "but if you +will be my teacher..." And lowering his big arm he offered it to the +slender little girl. + +While the couples were arranging themselves and the musicians tuning +up, Pierre sat down with his little partner. Natasha was perfectly +happy; she was dancing with a grown-up man, who had been abroad. She +was sitting in a conspicuous place and talking to him like a +grown-up lady. She had a fan in her hand that one of the ladies had +given her to hold. Assuming quite the pose of a society woman +(heaven knows when and where she had learned it) she talked with her +partner, fanning herself and smiling over the fan. + +"Dear, dear! Just look at her!" exclaimed the countess as she +crossed the ballroom, pointing to Natasha. + +Natasha blushed and laughed. + +"Well, really, Mamma! Why should you? What is there to be +surprised at?" + +In the midst of the third ecossaise there was a clatter of chairs +being pushed back in the sitting room where the count and Marya +Dmitrievna had been playing cards with the majority of the more +distinguished and older visitors. They now, stretching themselves +after sitting so long, and replacing their purses and pocketbooks, +entered the ballroom. First came Marya Dmitrievna and the count, +both with merry countenances. The count, with playful ceremony +somewhat in ballet style, offered his bent arm to Marya Dmitrievna. He +drew himself up, a smile of debonair gallantry lit up his face and +as soon as the last figure of the ecossaise was ended, he clapped +his hands to the musicians and shouted up to their gallery, addressing +the first violin: + +"Semen! Do you know the Daniel Cooper?" + +This was the count's favorite dance, which he had danced in his +youth. (Strictly speaking, Daniel Cooper was one figure of the +anglaise.) + +"Look at Papa!" shouted Natasha to the whole company, and quite +forgetting that she was dancing with a grown-up partner she bent her +curly head to her knees and made the whole room ring with her +laughter. + +And indeed everybody in the room looked with a smile of pleasure +at the jovial old gentleman, who standing beside his tall and stout +partner, Marya Dmitrievna, curved his arms, beat time, straightened +his shoulders, turned out his toes, tapped gently with his foot, +and, by a smile that broadened his round face more and more, +prepared the onlookers for what was to follow. As soon as the +provocatively gay strains of Daniel Cooper (somewhat resembling +those of a merry peasant dance) began to sound, all the doorways of +the ballroom were suddenly filled by the domestic serfs- the men on +one side and the women on the other- who with beaming faces had come +to see their master making merry. + +"Just look at the master! A regular eagle he is!" loudly remarked +the nurse, as she stood in one of the doorways. + +The count danced well and knew it. But his partner could not and did +not want to dance well. Her enormous figure stood erect, her +powerful arms hanging down (she had handed her reticule to the +countess), and only her stern but handsome face really joined in the +dance. What was expressed by the whole of the count's plump figure, in +Marya Dmitrievna found expression only in her more and more beaming +face and quivering nose. But if the count, getting more and more +into the swing of it, charmed the spectators by the unexpectedness +of his adroit maneuvers and the agility with which he capered about on +his light feet, Marya Dmitrievna produced no less impression by slight +exertions- the least effort to move her shoulders or bend her arms +when turning, or stamp her foot- which everyone appreciated in view of +her size and habitual severity. The dance grew livelier and +livelier. The other couples could not attract a moment's attention +to their own evolutions and did not even try to do so. All were +watching the count and Marya Dmitrievna. Natasha kept pulling everyone +by sleeve or dress, urging them to "look at Papa!" though as it was +they never took their eyes off the couple. In the intervals of the +dance the count, breathing deeply, waved and shouted to the +musicians to play faster. Faster, faster, and faster; lightly, more +lightly, and yet more lightly whirled the count, flying round Marya +Dmitrievna, now on his toes, now on his heels; until, turning his +partner round to her seat, he executed the final pas, raising his soft +foot backwards, bowing his perspiring head, smiling and making a +wide sweep with his arm, amid a thunder of applause and laughter led +by Natasha. Both partners stood still, breathing heavily and wiping +their faces with their cambric handkerchiefs. + +"That's how we used to dance in our time, ma chere," said the count. + +"That was a Daniel Cooper!" exclaimed Marya Dmitrievna, tucking up +her sleeves and puffing heavily. + +CHAPTER XXI + +While in the Rostovs' ballroom the sixth anglaise was being +danced, to a tune in which the weary musicians blundered, and while +tired footmen and cooks were getting the supper, Count Bezukhov had +a sixth stroke. The doctors pronounced recovery impossible. After a +mute confession, communion was administered to the dying man, +preparations made for the sacrament of unction, and in his house there +was the bustle and thrill of suspense usual at such moments. Outside +the house, beyond the gates, a group of undertakers, who hid +whenever a carriage drove up, waited in expectation of an important +order for an expensive funeral. The Military Governor of Moscow, who +had been assiduous in sending aides-de-camp to inquire after the +count's health, came himself that evening to bid a last farewell to +the celebrated grandee of Catherine's court, Count Bezukhov. + +The magnificent reception room was crowded. Everyone stood up +respectfully when the Military Governor, having stayed about half an +hour alone with the dying man, passed out, slightly acknowledging +their bows and trying to escape as quickly as from the glances fixed +on him by the doctors, clergy, and relatives of the family. Prince +Vasili, who had grown thinner and paler during the last few days, +escorted him to the door, repeating something to him several times +in low tones. + +When the Military Governor had gone, Prince Vasili sat down all +alone on a chair in the ballroom, crossing one leg high over the +other, leaning his elbow on his knee and covering his face with his +hand. After sitting so for a while he rose, and, looking about him +with frightened eyes, went with unusually hurried steps down the +long corridor leading to the back of the house, to the room of the +eldest princess. + +Those who were in the dimly lit reception room spoke in nervous +whispers, and, whenever anyone went into or came from the dying +man's room, grew silent and gazed with eyes full of curiosity or +expectancy at his door, which creaked slightly when opened. + +"The limits of human life... are fixed and may not be o'erpassed," +said an old priest to a lady who had taken a seat beside him and was +listening naively to his words. + +"I wonder, is it not too late to administer unction?" asked the +lady, adding the priest's clerical title, as if she had no opinion +of her own on the subject. + +"Ah, madam, it is a great sacrament, "replied the priest, passing +his hand over the thin grizzled strands of hair combed back across his +bald head. + +"Who was that? The Military Governor himself?" was being asked at +the other side of the room. "How young-looking he is!" + +"Yes, and he is over sixty. I hear the count no longer recognizes +anyone. They wished to administer the sacrament of unction." + +"I knew someone who received that sacrament seven times." + +The second princess had just come from the sickroom with her eyes +red from weeping and sat down beside Dr. Lorrain, who was sitting in a +graceful pose under a portrait of Catherine, leaning his elbow on a +table. + +"Beautiful," said the doctor in answer to a remark about the +weather. "The weather is beautiful, Princess; and besides, in Moscow +one feels as if one were in the country." + +"Yes, indeed," replied the princess with a sigh. "So he may have +something to drink?" + +Lorrain considered. + +"Has he taken his medicine?" + +"Yes." + +The doctor glanced at his watch. + +"Take a glass of boiled water and put a pinch of cream of tartar," +and he indicated with his delicate fingers what he meant by a pinch. + +"Dere has neffer been a gase," a German doctor was saying to an +aide-de-camp, "dat one liffs after de sird stroke." + +"And what a well-preserved man he was!" remarked the aide-de-camp. +"And who will inherit his wealth?" he added in a whisper. + +"It von't go begging," replied the German with a smile. + +Everyone again looked toward the door, which creaked as the second +princess went in with the drink she had prepared according to +Lorrain's instructions. The German doctor went up to Lorrain. + +"Do you think he can last till morning?" asked the German, +addressing Lorrain in French which he pronounced badly. + +Lorrain, pursing up his lips, waved a severely negative finger +before his nose. + +"Tonight, not later," said he in a low voice, and he moved away with +a decorous smile of self-satisfaction at being able clearly to +understand and state the patient's condition. + +Meanwhile Prince Vasili had opened the door into the princess' room. + +In this room it was almost dark; only two tiny lamps were burning +before the icons and there was a pleasant scent of flowers and burnt +pastilles. The room was crowded with small pieces of furniture, +whatnots, cupboards, and little tables. The quilt of a high, white +feather bed was just visible behind a screen. A small dog began to +bark. + +"Ah, is it you, cousin?" + +She rose and smoothed her hair, which was as usual so extremely +smooth that it seemed to be made of one piece with her head and +covered with varnish. + +"Has anything happened?" she asked. "I am so terrified." + +"No, there is no change. I only came to have a talk about +business, Catiche,"~^ muttered the prince, seating himself wearily on +the chair she had just vacated. "You have made the place warm, I +must say," he remarked. "Well, sit down: let's have a talk." + +^~ Catherine. + +"I thought perhaps something had happened," she said with her +unchanging stonily severe expression; and, sitting down opposite the +prince, she prepared to listen. + +"I wished to get a nap, mon cousin, but I can't." + +"Well, my dear?" said Prince Vasili, taking her hand and bending +it downwards as was his habit. + +It was plain that this "well?" referred to much that they both +understood without naming. + +The princess, who had a straight, rigid body, abnormally long for +her legs, looked directly at Prince Vasili with no sign of emotion +in her prominent gray eyes. Then she shook her head and glanced up +at the icons with a sigh. This might have been taken as an +expression of sorrow and devotion, or of weariness and hope of resting +before long. Prince Vasili understood it as an expression of +weariness. + +"And I?" he said; "do you think it is easier for me? I am as worn +out as a post horse, but still I must have a talk with you, Catiche, a +very serious talk." + +Prince Vasili said no more and his cheeks began to twitch nervously, +now on one side, now on the other, giving his face an unpleasant +expression which was never to be seen on it in a drawing room. His +eyes too seemed strange; at one moment they looked impudently sly +and at the next glanced round in alarm. + +The princess, holding her little dog on her lap with her thin bony +hands, looked attentively into Prince Vasili's eyes evidently resolved +not to be the first to break silence, if she had to wait till morning. + +"Well, you see, my dear princess and cousin, Catherine Semenovna," +continued Prince Vasili, returning to his theme, apparently not +without an inner struggle; "at such a moment as this one must think of +everything. One must think of the future, of all of you... I love +you all, like children of my own, as you know." + +The princess continued to look at him without moving, and with the +same dull expression. + +"And then of course my family has also to be considered," Prince +Vasili went on, testily pushing away a little table without looking at +her. "You know, Catiche, that we- you three sisters, Mamontov, and +my wife- are the count's only direct heirs. I know, I know how hard it +is for you to talk or think of such matters. It is no easier for me; +but, my dear, I am getting on for sixty and must be prepared for +anything. Do you know I have sent for Pierre? The count," pointing +to his portrait, "definitely demanded that he should be called." + +Prince Vasili looked questioningly at the princess, but could not +make out whether she was considering what he had just said or +whether she was simply looking at him. + +"There is one thing I constantly pray God to grant, mon cousin," she +replied, "and it is that He would be merciful to him and would allow +his noble soul peacefully to leave this..." + +"Yes, yes, of course," interrupted Prince Vasili impatiently, +rubbing his bald head and angrily pulling back toward him the little +table that he had pushed away. "But... in short, the fact is... you +know yourself that last winter the count made a will by which he +left all his property, not to us his direct heirs, but to Pierre." + +"He has made wills enough!" quietly remarked the princess. "But he +cannot leave the estate to Pierre. Pierre is illegitimate." + +"But, my dear," said Prince Vasili suddenly, clutching the little +table and becoming more animated and talking more rapidly: "what if +a letter has been written to the Emperor in which the count asks for +Pierre's legitimation? Do you understand that in consideration of +the count's services, his request would be granted?..." + +The princess smiled as people do who think they know more about +the subject under discussion than those they are talking with. + +"I can tell you more," continued Prince Vasili, seizing her hand, +"that letter was written, though it was not sent, and the Emperor knew +of it. The only question is, has it been destroyed or not? If not, +then as soon as all is over," and Prince Vasili sighed to intimate +what he meant by the words all is over, "and the count's papers are +opened, the will and letter will be delivered to the Emperor, and +the petition will certainly be granted. Pierre will get everything +as the legitimate son." + +"And our share?" asked the princess smiling ironically, as if +anything might happen, only not that. + +"But, my poor Catiche, it is as clear as daylight! He will then be +the legal heir to everything and you won't get anything. You must +know, my dear, whether the will and letter were written, and whether +they have been destroyed or not. And if they have somehow been +overlooked, you ought to know where they are, and must find them, +because..." + +"What next?" the princess interrupted, smiling sardonically and +not changing the expression of her eyes. "I am a woman, and you +think we are all stupid; but I know this: an illegitimate son cannot +inherit... un batard!"~^ she added, as if supposing that this +translation of the word would effectively prove to Prince Vasili the +invalidity of his contention. + +^~ A bastard. + +"Well, really, Catiche! Can't you understand! You are so +intelligent, how is it you don't see that if the count has written a +letter to the Emperor begging him to recognize Pierre as legitimate, +it follows that Pierre will not be Pierre but will become Count +Bezukhov, and will then inherit everything under the will? And if +the will and letter are not destroyed, then you will have nothing +but the consolation of having been dutiful et tout ce qui s'ensuit!~^ +That's certain." + +^~ And all that follows therefrom. + +"I know the will was made, but I also know that it is invalid; and +you, mon cousin, seem to consider me a perfect fool," said the +princess with the expression women assume when they suppose they are +saying something witty and stinging. + +"My dear Princess Catherine Semenovna," began Prince Vasili +impatiently, "I came here not to wrangle with you, but to talk about +your interests as with a kinswoman, a good, kind, true relation. And I +tell you for the tenth time that if the letter to the Emperor and +the will in Pierre's favor are among the count's papers, then, my dear +girl, you and your sisters are not heiresses! If you don't believe me, +then believe an expert. I have just been talking to Dmitri Onufrich" +(the family solicitor) "and he says the same." + +At this a sudden change evidently took place in the princess' ideas; +her thin lips grew white, though her eyes did not change, and her +voice when she began to speak passed through such transitions as she +herself evidently did not expect. + +"That would be a fine thing!" said she. "I never wanted anything and +I don't now." + +She pushed the little dog off her lap and smoothed her dress. + +"And this is gratitude- this is recognition for those who have +sacrificed everything for his sake!" she cried. "It's splendid! +Fine! I don't want anything, Prince." + +"Yes, but you are not the only one. There are your sisters..." +replied Prince Vasili. + +But the princess did not listen to him. + +"Yes, I knew it long ago but had forgotten. I knew that I could +expect nothing but meanness, deceit, envy, intrigue, and +ingratitude- the blackest ingratitude- in this house..." + +"Do you or do you not know where that will is?" insisted Prince +Vasili, his cheeks twitching more than ever. + +"Yes, I was a fool! I still believed in people, loved them, and +sacrificed myself. But only the base, the vile succeed! I know who has +been intriguing!" + +The princees wished to rise, but the prince held her by the hand. +She had the air of one who has suddenly lost faith in the whole +human race. She gave her companion an angry glance. + +"There is still time, my dear. You must remember, Catiche, that it +was all done casually in a moment of anger, of illness, and was +afterwards forgotten. Our duty, my dear, is to rectify his mistake, to +ease his last moments by not letting him commit this injustice, and +not to let him die feeling that he is rendering unhappy those who..." + +"Who sacrificed everything for him," chimed in the princess, who +would again have risen had not the prince still held her fast, "though +he never could appreciate it. No, mon cousin," she added with a +sigh, "I shall always remember that in this world one must expect no +reward, that in this world there is neither honor nor justice. In this +world one has to be cunning and cruel." + +"Now come, come! Be reasonable. I know your excellent heart." + +"No, I have a wicked heart." + +"I know your heart," repeated the prince. "I value your friendship +and wish you to have as good an opinion of me. Don't upset yourself, +and let us talk sensibly while there is still time, be it a day or +be it but an hour.... Tell me all you know about the will, and above +all where it is. You must know. We will take it at once and show it to +the count. He has, no doubt, forgotten it and will wish to destroy it. +You understand that my sole desire is conscientiously to carry out his +wishes; that is my only reason for being here. I came simply to help +him and you." + +"Now I see it all! I know who has been intriguing- I know!" cried +the princess. + +"That's not the point, my dear." + +"It's that protege of yours, that sweet Princess Drubetskaya, that +Anna Mikhaylovna whom I would not take for a housemaid... the +infamous, vile woman!" + +"Do not let us lose any time..." + +"Ah, don't talk to me! Last winter she wheedled herself in here +and told the count such vile, disgraceful things about us, +especially about Sophie- I can't repeat them- that it made the count +quite ill and he would not see us for a whole fortnight. I know it was +then he wrote this vile, infamous paper, but I thought the thing was +invalid." + +"We've got to it at last- why did you not tell me about it sooner?" + +"It's in the inlaid portfolio that he keeps under his pillow," +said the princess, ignoring his question. "Now I know! Yes; if I +have a sin, a great sin, it is hatred of that vile woman!" almost +shrieked the princess, now quite changed. "And what does she come +worming herself in here for? But I will give her a piece of my mind. +The time will come!" + +CHAPTER XXII + +While these conversations were going on in the reception room and +the princess' room, a carriage containing Pierre (who had been sent +for) and Anna Mikhaylovna (who found it necessary to accompany him) +was driving into the court of Count Bezukhov's house. As the wheels +rolled softly over the straw beneath the windows, Anna Mikhaylovna, +having turned with words of comfort to her companion, realized that he +was asleep in his corner and woke him up. Rousing himself, Pierre +followed Anna Mikhaylovna out of the carriage, and only then began +to think of the interview with his dying father which awaited him. +He noticed that they had not come to the front entrance but to the +back door. While he was getting down from the carriage steps two +men, who looked like tradespeople, ran hurriedly from the entrance and +hid in the shadow of the wall. Pausing for a moment, Pierre noticed +several other men of the same kind hiding in the shadow of the house +on both sides. But neither Anna Mikhaylovna nor the footman nor the +coachman, who could not help seeing these people, took any notice of +them. "It seems to be all right," Pierre concluded, and followed +Anna Mikhaylovna. She hurriedly ascended the narrow dimly lit stone +staircase, calling to Pierre, who was lagging behind, to follow. +Though he did not see why it was necessary for him to go to the +count at all, still less why he had to go by the back stairs, yet +judging by Anna Mikhaylovna's air of assurance and haste, Pierre +concluded that it was all absolutely necessary. Halfway up the +stairs they were almost knocked over by some men who, carrying +pails, came running downstairs, their boots clattering. These men +pressed close to the wall to let Pierre and Anna Mikhaylovna pass +and did not evince the least surprise at seeing them there. + +"Is this the way to the princesses' apartments?" asked Anna +Mikhaylovna of one of them. + +"Yes," replied a footman in a bold loud voice, as if anything were +now permissible; "the door to the left, ma'am." + +"Perhaps the count did not ask for me," said Pierre when he +reached the landing. "I'd better go to my own room." + +Anna Mikhaylovna paused and waited for him to come up. + +"Ah, my friend!" she said, touching his arm as she had done her +son's when speaking to him that afternoon, "believe me I suffer no +less than you do, but be a man!" + +"But really, hadn't I better go away?" he asked, looking kindly at +her over his spectacles. + +"Ah, my dear friend! Forget the wrongs that may have been done +you. Think that he is your father... perhaps in the agony of death." +She sighed. "I have loved you like a son from the first. Trust +yourself to me, Pierre. I shall not forget your interests." + +Pierre did not understand a word, but the conviction that all this +had to be grew stronger, and he meekly followed Anna Mikhaylovna who +was already opening a door. + +This door led into a back anteroom. An old man, a servant of the +princesses, sat in a corner knitting a stocking. Pierre had never been +in this part of the house and did not even know of the existence of +these rooms. Anna Mikhaylovna, addressing a maid who was hurrying past +with a decanter on a tray as "my dear" and "my sweet," asked about the +princess' health and then led Pierre along a stone passage. The +first door on the left led into the princesses' apartments. The maid +with the decanter in her haste had not closed the door (everything +in the house was done in haste at that time), and Pierre and Anna +Mikhaylovna in passing instinctively glanced into the room, where +Prince Vasili and the eldest princess were sitting close together +talking. Seeing them pass, Prince Vasili drew back with obvious +impatience, while the princess jumped up and with a gesture of +desperation slammed the door with all her might. + +This action was so unlike her usual composure and the fear +depicted on Prince Vasili's face so out of keeping with his dignity +that Pierre stopped and glanced inquiringly over his spectacles at his +guide. Anna Mikhaylovna evinced no surprise, she only smiled faintly +and sighed, as if to say that this was no more than she had expected. + +"Be a man, my friend. I will look after your interests," said she in +reply to his look, and went still faster along the passage. + +Pierre could not make out what it was all about, and still less what +"watching over his interests" meant, but he decided that all these +things had to be. From the passage they went into a large, dimly lit +room adjoining the count's reception room. It was one of those +sumptuous but cold apartments known to Pierre only from the front +approach, but even in this room there now stood an empty bath, and +water had been spilled on the carpet. They were met by a deacon with a +censer and by a servant who passed out on tiptoe without heeding them. +They went into the reception room familiar to Pierre, with two Italian +windows opening into the conservatory, with its large bust and full +length portrait of Catherine the Great. The same people were still +sitting here in almost the same positions as before, whispering to one +another. All became silent and turned to look at the pale tear-worn +Anna Mikhaylovna as she entered, and at the big stout figure of Pierre +who, hanging his head, meekly followed her. + +Anna Mikhaylovna's face expressed a consciousness that the +decisive moment had arrived. With the air of a practical Petersburg +lady she now, keeping Pierre close beside her, entered the room even +more boldly than that afternoon. She felt that as she brought with her +the person the dying man wished to see, her own admission was assured. +Casting a rapid glance at all those in the room and noticing the +count's confessor there, she glided up to him with a sort of amble, +not exactly bowing yet seeming to grow suddenly smaller, and +respectfully received the blessing first of one and then of another +priest. + +"God be thanked that you are in time," said she to one of the +priests; "all we relatives have been in such anxiety. This young man +is the count's son," she added more softly. "What a terrible moment!" + +Having said this she went up to the doctor. + +"Dear doctor," said she, "this young man is the count's son. Is +there any hope?" + +The doctor cast a rapid glance upwards and silently shrugged his +shoulders. Anna Mikhaylovna with just the same movement raised her +shoulders and eyes, almost closing the latter, sighed, and moved +away from the doctor to Pierre. To him, in a particularly respectful +and tenderly sad voice, she said: + +"Trust in His mercy!" and pointing out a small sofa for him to sit +and wait for her, she went silently toward the door that everyone +was watching and it creaked very slightly as she disappeared behind +it. + +Pierre, having made up his mind to obey his monitress implicitly, +moved toward the sofa she had indicated. As soon as Anna Mikhaylovna +had disappeared he noticed that the eyes of all in the room turned +to him with something more than curiosity and sympathy. He noticed +that they whispered to one another, casting significant looks at him +with a kind of awe and even servility. A deference such as he had +never before received was shown him. A strange lady, the one who had +been talking to the priests, rose and offered him her seat; an +aide-de-camp picked up and returned a glove Pierre had dropped; the +doctors became respectfully silent as he passed by, and moved to +make way for him. At first Pierre wished to take another seat so as +not to trouble the lady, and also to pick up the glove himself and +to pass round the doctors who were not even in his way; but all at +once he felt that this would not do, and that tonight he was a +person obliged to perform some sort of awful rite which everyone +expected of him, and that he was therefore bound to accept their +services. He took the glove in silence from the aide-de-camp, and +sat down in the lady's chair, placing his huge hands symmetrically +on his knees in the naive attitude of an Egyptian statue, and +decided in his own mind that all was as it should be, and that in +order not to lose his head and do foolish things he must not act on +his own ideas tonight, but must yield himself up entirely to the +will of those who were guiding him. + +Not two minutes had passed before Prince Vasili with head erect +majestically entered the room. He was wearing his long coat with three +stars on his breast. He seemed to have grown thinner since the +morning; his eyes seemed larger than usual when he glanced round and +noticed Pierre. He went up to him, took his hand (a thing he never +used to do), and drew it downwards as if wishing to ascertain +whether it was firmly fixed on. + +"Courage, courage, my friend! He has asked to see you. That is +well!" and he turned to go. + +But Pierre thought it necessary to ask: "How is..." and hesitated, +not knowing whether it would be proper to call the dying man "the +count," yet ashamed to call him "father." + +"He had another stroke about half an hour ago. Courage, my +friend..." + +Pierre's mind was in such a confused state that the word "stroke" +suggested to him a blow from something. He looked at Prince Vasili +in perplexity, and only later grasped that a stroke was an attack of +illness. Prince Vasili said something to Lorrain in passing and went +through the door on tiptoe. He could not walk well on tiptoe and his +whole body jerked at each step. The eldest princess followed him, +and the priests and deacons and some servants also went in at the +door. Through that door was heard a noise of things being moved about, +and at last Anna Mikhaylovna, still with the same expression, pale but +resolute in the discharge of duty, ran out and touching Pierre lightly +on the arm said: + +"The divine mercy is inexhaustible! Unction is about to be +administered. Come." + +Pierre went in at the door, stepping on the soft carpet, and noticed +that the strange lady, the aide-de-camp, and some of the servants, all +followed him in, as if there were now no further need for permission +to enter that room. + +CHAPTER XXIII + +Pierre well knew this large room divided by columns and an arch, its +walls hung round with Persian carpets. The part of the room behind the +columns, with a high silk-curtained mahogany bedstead on one side +and on the other an immense case containing icons, was brightly +illuminated with red light like a Russian church during evening +service. Under the gleaming icons stood a long invalid chair, and in +that chair on snowy-white smooth pillows, evidently freshly changed, +Pierre saw- covered to the waist by a bright green quilt- the +familiar, majestic figure of his father, Count Bezukhov, with that +gray mane of hair above his broad forehead which reminded one of a +lion, and the deep characteristically noble wrinkles of his +handsome, ruddy face. He lay just under the icons; his large thick +hands outside the quilt. Into the right hand, which was lying palm +downwards, a wax taper had been thrust between forefinger and thumb, +and an old servant, bending over from behind the chair, held it in +position. By the chair stood the priests, their long hair falling over +their magnificent glittering vestments, with lighted tapers in their +hands, slowly and solemnly conducting the service. A little behind +them stood the two younger princesses holding handkerchiefs to their +eyes, and just in front of them their eldest sister, Catiche, with a +vicious and determined look steadily fixed on the icons, as though +declaring to all that she could not answer for herself should she +glance round. Anna Mikhaylovna, with a meek, sorrowful, and +all-forgiving expression on her face, stood by the door near the +strange lady. Prince Vasili in front of the door, near the invalid +chair, a wax taper in his left hand, was leaning his left arm on the +carved back of a velvet chair he had turned round for the purpose, and +was crossing himself with his right hand, turning his eyes upward each +time he touched his forehead. His face wore a calm look of piety and +resignation to the will of God. "If you do not understand these +sentiments," he seemed to be saying, "so much the worse for you!" + +Behind him stood the aide-de-camp, the doctors, and the menservants; +the men and women had separated as in church. All were silently +crossing themselves, and the reading of the church service, the +subdued chanting of deep bass voices, and in the intervals sighs and +the shuffling of feet were the only sounds that could be heard. Anna +Mikhaylovna, with an air of importance that showed that she felt she +quite knew what she was about, went across the room to where Pierre +was standing and gave him a taper. He lit it and, distracted by +observing those around him, began crossing himself with the hand +that held the taper. + +Sophie, the rosy, laughter-loving, youngest princess with the +mole, watched him. She smiled, hid her face in her handkerchief, and +remained with it hidden for awhile; then looking up and seeing +Pierre she again began to laugh. She evidently felt unable to look +at him without laughing, but could not resist looking at him: so to be +out of temptation she slipped quietly behind one of the columns. In +the midst of the service the voices of the priests suddenly ceased, +they whispered to one another, and the old servant who was holding the +count's hand got up and said something to the ladies. Anna Mikhaylovna +stepped forward and, stooping over the dying man, beckoned to +Lorrain from behind her back. The French doctor held no taper; he +was leaning against one of the columns in a respectful attitude +implying that he, a foreigner, in spite of all differences of faith, +understood the full importance of the rite now being performed and +even approved of it. He now approached the sick man with the noiseless +step of one in full vigor of life, with his delicate white fingers +raised from the green quilt the hand that was free, and turning +sideways felt the pulse and reflected a moment. The sick man was given +something to drink, there was a stir around him, then the people +resumed their places and the service continued. During this interval +Pierre noticed that Prince Vasili left the chair on which he had +been leaning, and- with air which intimated that he knew what he was +about and if others did not understand him it was so much the worse +for them- did not go up to the dying man, but passed by him, joined +the eldest princess, and moved with her to the side of the room +where stood the high bedstead with its silken hangings. On leaving the +bed both Prince Vasili and the princess passed out by a back door, but +returned to their places one after the other before the service was +concluded. Pierre paid no more attention to this occurrence than to +the rest of what went on, having made up his mind once for all that +what he saw happening around him that evening was in some way +essential. + +The chanting of the service ceased, and the voice of the priest +was heard respectfully congratulating the dying man on having received +the sacrament. The dying man lay as lifeless and immovable as +before. Around him everyone began to stir: steps were audible and +whispers, among which Anna Mikhaylovna's was the most distinct. + +Pierre heard her say: + +"Certainly he must be moved onto the bed; here it will be +impossible..." + +The sick man was so surrounded by doctors, princesses, and +servants that Pierre could no longer see the reddish-yellow face +with its gray mane- which, though he saw other faces as well, he had +not lost sight of for a single moment during the whole service. He +judged by the cautious movements of those who crowded round the +invalid chair that they had lifted the dying man and were moving him. + +"Catch hold of my arm or you'll drop him!" he heard one of the +servants say in a frightened whisper. "Catch hold from underneath. +Here!" exclaimed different voices; and the heavy breathing of the +bearers and the shuffling of their feet grew more hurried, as if the +weight they were carrying were too much for them. + +As the bearers, among whom was Anna Mikhaylovna, passed the young +man he caught a momentary glimpse between their heads and backs of the +dying man's high, stout, uncovered chest and powerful shoulders, +raised by those who were holding him under the armpits, and of his +gray, curly, leonine head. This head, with its remarkably broad brow +and cheekbones, its handsome, sensual mouth, and its cold, majestic +expression, was not disfigured by the approach of death. It was the +same as Pierre remembered it three months before, when the count had +sent him to Petersburg. But now this head was swaying helplessly +with the uneven movements of the bearers, and the cold listless gaze +fixed itself upon nothing. + +After a few minutes' bustle beside the high bedstead, those who +had carried the sick man dispersed. Anna Mikhaylovna touched +Pierre's hand and said, "Come." Pierre went with her to the bed on +which the sick man had been laid in a stately pose in keeping with the +ceremony just completed. He lay with his head propped high on the +pillows. His hands were symmetrically placed on the green silk +quilt, the palms downward. When Pierre came up the count was gazing +straight at him, but with a look the significance of which could not +be understood by mortal man. Either this look meant nothing but that +as long as one has eyes they must look somewhere, or it meant too +much. Pierre hesitated, not knowing what to do, and glanced +inquiringly at his guide. Anna Mikhaylovna made a hurried sign with +her eyes, glancing at the sick man's hand and moving her lips as if to +send it a kiss. Pierre, carefully stretching his neck so as not to +touch the quilt, followed her suggestion and pressed his lips to the +large boned, fleshy hand. Neither the hand nor a single muscle of +the count's face stirred. Once more Pierre looked questioningly at +Anna Mikhaylovna to see what he was to do next. Anna Mikhaylovna +with her eyes indicated a chair that stood beside the bed. Pierre +obediently sat down, his eyes asking if he were doing right. Anna +Mikhaylovna nodded approvingly. Again Pierre fell into the naively +symmetrical pose of an Egyptian statue, evidently distressed that +his stout and clumsy body took up so much room and doing his utmost to +look as small as possible. He looked at the count, who still gazed +at the spot where Pierre's face had been before he sat down. Anna +Mikhaylovna indicated by her attitude her consciousness of the +pathetic importance of these last moments of meeting between the +father and son. This lasted about two minutes, which to Pierre +seemed an hour. Suddenly the broad muscles and lines of the count's +face began to twitch. The twitching increased, the handsome mouth +was drawn to one side (only now did Pierre realize how near death +his father was), and from that distorted mouth issued an indistinct, +hoarse sound. Anna Mikhaylovna looked attentively at the sick man's +eyes, trying to guess what he wanted; she pointed first to Pierre, +then to some drink, then named Prince Vasili in an inquiring +whisper, then pointed to the quilt. The eyes and face of the sick +man showed impatience. He made an effort to look at the servant who +stood constantly at the head of the bed. + +"Wants to turn on the other side," whispered the servant, and got up +to turn the count's heavy body toward the wall. + +Pierre rose to help him. + +While the count was being turned over, one of his arms fell back +helplessly and he made a fruitless effort to pull it forward. +Whether he noticed the look of terror with which Pierre regarded +that lifeless arm, or whether some other thought flitted across his +dying brain, at any rate he glanced at the refractory arm, at Pierre's +terror-stricken face, and again at the arm, and on his face a +feeble, piteous smile appeared, quite out of keeping with his +features, that seemed to deride his own helplessness. At sight of this +smile Pierre felt an unexpected quivering in his breast and a tickling +in his nose, and tears dimmed his eyes. The sick man was turned on +to his side with his face to the wall. He sighed. + +"He is dozing," said Anna Mikhaylovna, observing that one of the +princesses was coming to take her turn at watching. "Let us go." + +Pierre went out. + +CHAPTER XXIV + +There was now no one in the reception room except Prince Vasili +and the eldest princess, who were sitting under the portrait of +Catherine the Great and talking eagerly. As soon as they saw Pierre +and his companion they became silent, and Pierre thought he saw the +princess hide something as she whispered: + +"I can't bear the sight of that woman." + +"Catiche has had tea served in the small drawing room," said +Prince Vasili to Anna Mikhaylovna. "Go and take something, my poor +Anna Mikhaylovna, or you will not hold out." + +To Pierre he said nothing, merely giving his arm a sympathetic +squeeze below the shoulder. Pierre went with Anna Mikhaylovna into the +small drawing room. + +"There is nothing so refreshing after a sleepless night as a cup +of this delicious Russian tea," Lorrain was saying with an air of +restrained animation as he stood sipping tea from a delicate Chinese +handleless cup before a table on which tea and a cold supper were laid +in the small circular room. Around the table all who were at Count +Bezukhov's house that night had gathered to fortify themselves. Pierre +well remembered this small circular drawing room with its mirrors +and little tables. During balls given at the house Pierre, who did not +know how to dance, had liked sitting in this room to watch the +ladies who, as they passed through in their ball dresses with diamonds +and pearls on their bare shoulders, looked at themselves in the +brilliantly lighted mirrors which repeated their reflections several +times. Now this same room was dimly lighted by two candles. On one +small table tea things and supper dishes stood in disorder, and in the +middle of the night a motley throng of people sat there, not +merrymaking, but somberly whispering, and betraying by every word +and movement that they none of them forgot what was happening and what +was about to happen in the bedroom. Pierre did not eat anything though +he would very much have liked to. He looked inquiringly at his +monitress and saw that she was again going on tiptoe to the +reception room where they had left Prince Vasili and the eldest +princess. Pierre concluded that this also was essential, and after a +short interval followed her. Anna Mikhaylovna was standing beside +the princess, and they were both speaking in excited whispers. + +"Permit me, Princess, to know what is necessary and what is not +necessary," said the younger of the two speakers, evidently in the +same state of excitement as when she had slammed the door of her room. + +"But, my dear princess," answered Anna Mikhaylovna blandly but +impressively, blocking the way to the bedroom and preventing the other +from passing, "won't this be too much for poor Uncle at a moment +when he needs repose? Worldly conversation at a moment when his soul +is already prepared..." + +Prince Vasili was seated in an easy chair in his familiar +attitude, with one leg crossed high above the other. His cheeks, which +were so flabby that they looked heavier below, were twitching +violently; but he wore the air of a man little concerned in what the +two ladies were saying. + +"Come, my dear Anna Mikhaylovna, let Catiche do as she pleases. +You know how fond the count is of her." + +"I don't even know what is in this paper," said the younger of the +two ladies, addressing Prince Vasili and pointing to an inlaid +portfolio she held in her hand. "All I know is that his real will is +in his writing table, and this is a paper he has forgotten...." + +She tried to pass Anna Mikhaylovna, but the latter sprang so as to +bar her path. + +"I know, my dear, kind princess," said Anna Mikhaylovna, seizing the +portfolio so firmly that it was plain she would not let go easily. +"Dear princess, I beg and implore you, have some pity on him! Je +vous en conjure..." + +The princess did not reply. Their efforts in the struggle for the +portfolio were the only sounds audible, but it was evident that if the +princess did speak, her words would not be flattering to Anna +Mikhaylovna. Though the latter held on tenaciously, her voice lost +none of its honeyed firmness and softness. + +"Pierre, my dear, come here. I think he will not be out of place +in a family consultation; is it not so, Prince?" + +"Why don't you speak, cousin?" suddenly shrieked the princess so +loud that those in the drawing room heard her and were startled. +"Why do you remain silent when heaven knows who permits herself to +interfere, making a scene on the very threshold of a dying man's room? +Intriguer!" she hissed viciously, and tugged with all her might at the +portfolio. + +But Anna Mikhaylovna went forward a step or two to keep her hold +on the portfolio, and changed her grip. + +Prince Vasili rose. "Oh!" said he with reproach and surprise, +"this is absurd! Come, let go I tell you." + +The princess let go. + +"And you too!" + +But Anna Mikhaylovna did not obey him. + +"Let go, I tell you! I will take the responsibility. I myself will +go and ask him, I!... does that satisfy you?" + +"But, Prince," said Anna Mikhaylovna, "after such a solemn +sacrament, allow him a moment's peace! Here, Pierre, tell them your +opinion," said she, turning to the young man who, having come quite +close, was gazing with astonishment at the angry face of the +princess which had lost all dignity, and at the twitching cheeks of +Prince Vasili. + +"Remember that you will answer for the consequences," said Prince +Vasili severely. "You don't know what you are doing." + +"Vile woman!" shouted the princess, darting unexpectedly at Anna +Mikhaylovna and snatching the portfolio from her. + +Prince Vasili bent his head and spread out his hands. + +At this moment that terrible door, which Pierre had watched so +long and which had always opened so quietly, burst noisily open and +banged against the wall, and the second of the three sisters rushed +out wringing her hands. + +"What are you doing!" she cried vehemently. "He is dying and you +leave me alone with him!" + +Her sister dropped the portfolio. Anna Mikhaylovna, stooping, +quickly caught up the object of contention and ran into the bedroom. +The eldest princess and Prince Vasili, recovering themselves, followed +her. A few minutes later the eldest sister came out with a pale hard +face, again biting her underlip. At sight of Pierre her expression +showed an irrepressible hatred. + +"Yes, now you may be glad!" said she; "this is what you have been +waiting for." And bursting into tears she hid her face in her +handkerchief and rushed from the room. + +Prince Vasili came next. He staggered to the sofa on which Pierre +was sitting and dropped onto it, covering his face with his hand. +Pierre noticed that he was pale and that his jaw quivered and shook as +if in an ague. + +"Ah, my friend!" said he, taking Pierre by the elbow; and there +was in his voice a sincerity and weakness Pierre had never observed in +it before. "How often we sin, how much we deceive, and all for what? I +am near sixty, dear friend... I too... All will end in death, all! +Death is awful..." and he burst into tears. + +Anna Mikhaylovna came out last. She approached Pierre with slow, +quiet steps. + +"Pierre!" she said. + +Pierre gave her an inquiring look. She kissed the young man on his +forehead, wetting him with her tears. Then after a pause she said: + +"He is no more...." + +Pierre looked at her over his spectacles. + +"Come, I will go with you. Try to weep, nothing gives such relief as +tears." + +She led him into the dark drawing room and Pierre was glad no one +could see his face. Anna Mikhaylovna left him, and when she returned +he was fast asleep with his head on his arm. + +In the morning Anna Mikhaylovna said to Pierre: + +"Yes, my dear, this is a great loss for us all, not to speak of you. +But God will support you: you are young, and are now, I hope, in +command of an immense fortune. The will has not yet been opened. I +know you well enough to be sure that this will not turn your head, but +it imposes duties on you, and you must be a man." + +Pierre was silent. + +"Perhaps later on I may tell you, my dear boy, that if I had not +been there, God only knows what would have happened! You know, Uncle +promised me only the day before yesterday not to forget Boris. But +he had no time. I hope, my dear friend, you will carry out your +father's wish?" + +Pierre understood nothing of all this and coloring shyly looked in +silence at Princess Anna Mikhaylovna. After her talk with Pierre, Anna +Mikhaylovna returned to the Rostovs' and went to bed. On waking in the +morning she told the Rostovs and all her acquaintances the details +of Count Bezukhov's death. She said the count had died as she would +herself wish to die, that his end was not only touching but +edifying. As to the last meeting between father and son, it was so +touching that she could not think of it without tears, and did not +know which had behaved better during those awful moments- the father +who so remembered everything and everybody at last and last and had +spoken such pathetic words to the son, or Pierre, whom it had been +pitiful to see, so stricken was he with grief, though he tried hard to +hide it in order not to sadden his dying father. "It is painful, but +it does one good. It uplifts the soul to see such men as the old count +and his worthy son," said she. Of the behavior of the eldest +princess and Prince Vasili she spoke disapprovingly, but in whispers +and as a great secret. + +CHAPTER XXV + +At Bald Hills, Prince Nicholas Andreevich Bolkonski's estate, the +arrival of young Prince Andrew and his wife was daily expected, but +this expectation did not upset the regular routine of life in the +old prince's household. General in Chief Prince Nicholas Andreevich +(nicknamed in society, "the King of Prussia") ever since the Emperor +Paul had exiled him to his country estate had lived there continuously +with his daughter, Princess Mary, and her companion, Mademoiselle +Bourienne. Though in the new reign he was free to return to the +capitals, he still continued to live in the country, remarking that +anyone who wanted to see him could come the hundred miles from +Moscow to Bald Hills, while he himself needed no one and nothing. He +used to say that there are only two sources of human vice- idleness +and superstition, and only two virtues- activity and intelligence. +He himself undertook his daughter's education, and to develop these +two cardinal virtues in her gave her lessons in algebra and geometry +till she was twenty, and arranged her life so that her whole time +was occupied. He was himself always occupied: writing his memoirs, +solving problems in higher mathematics, turning snuffboxes on a lathe, +working in the garden, or superintending the building that was +always going on at his estate. As regularity is a prime condition +facilitating activity, regularity in his household was carried to +the highest point of exactitude. He always came to table under +precisely the same conditions, and not only at the same hour but at +the same minute. With those about him, from his daughter to his serfs, +the prince was sharp and invariably exacting, so that without being +a hardhearted man he inspired such fear and respect as few hardhearted +men would have aroused. Although he was in retirement and had now no +influence in political affairs, every high official appointed to the +province in which the prince's estate lay considered it his duty to +visit him and waited in the lofty antechamber ante chamber just as the +architect, gardener, or Princess Mary did, till the prince appeared +punctually to the appointed hour. Everyone sitting in this antechamber +experienced the same feeling of respect and even fear when the +enormously high study door opened and showed the figure of a rather +small old man, with powdered wig, small withered hands, and bushy gray +eyebrows which, when he frowned, sometimes hid the gleam of his +shrewd, youthfully glittering eyes. + +On the morning of the day that the young couple were to arrive, +Princess Mary entered the antechamber as usual at the time appointed +for the morning greeting, crossing herself with trepidation and +repeating a silent prayer. Every morning she came in like that, and +every morning prayed that the daily interview might pass off well. + +An old powdered manservant who was sitting in the antechamber rose +quietly and said in a whisper: "Please walk in." + +Through the door came the regular hum of a lathe. The princess +timidly opened the door which moved noiselessly and easily. She paused +at the entrance. The prince was working at the lathe and after +glancing round continued his work. + +The enormous study was full of things evidently in constant use. The +large table covered with books and plans, the tall glass-fronted +bookcases with keys in the locks, the high desk for writing while +standing up, on which lay an open exercise book, and the lathe with +tools laid ready to hand and shavings scattered around- all +indicated continuous, varied, and orderly activity. The motion of +the small foot shod in a Tartar boot embroidered with silver, and +the firm pressure of the lean sinewy hand, showed that the prince +still possessed the tenacious endurance and vigor of hardy old age. +After a few more turns of the lathe he removed his foot from the +pedal, wiped his chisel, dropped it into a leather pouch attached to +the lathe, and, approaching the table, summoned his daughter. He never +gave his children a blessing, so he simply held out his bristly +cheek (as yet unshaven) and, regarding her tenderly and attentively, +said severely: + +"Quite well? All right then, sit down." He took the exercise book +containing lessons in geometry written by himself and drew up a +chair with his foot. + +"For tomorrow!" said he, quickly finding the page and making a +scratch from one paragraph to another with his hard nail. + +The princess bent over the exercise book on the table. + +"Wait a bit, here's a letter for you," said the old man suddenly, +taking a letter addressed in a woman's hand from a bag hanging above +the table, onto which he threw it. + +At the sight of the letter red patches showed themselves on the +princess' face. She took it quickly and bent her head over it. + +"From Heloise?" asked the prince with a cold smile that showed his +still sound, yellowish teeth. + +"Yes, it's from Julie," replied the princess with a timid glance and +a timid smile. + +"I'll let two more letters pass, but the third I'll read," said +the prince sternly; "I'm afraid you write much nonsense. I'll read the +third!" + +"Read this if you like, Father," said the princess, blushing still +more and holding out the letter. + +"The third, I said the third!" cried the prince abruptly, pushing +the letter away, and leaning his elbows on the table he drew toward +him the exercise book containing geometrical figures. + +"Well, madam," he began, stooping over the book close to his +daughter and placing an arm on the back of the chair on which she sat, +so that she felt herself surrounded on all sides by the acrid scent of +old age and tobacco, which she had known so long. "Now, madam, these +triangles are equal; please note that the angle ABC..." + +The princess looked in a scared way at her father's eyes +glittering close to her; the red patches on her face came and went, +and it was plain that she understood nothing and was so frightened +that her fear would prevent her understanding any of her father's +further explanations, however clear they might be. Whether it was +the teacher's fault or the pupil's, this same thing happened every +day: the princess' eyes grew dim, she could not see and could not hear +anything, but was only conscious of her stern father's withered face +close to her, of his breath and the smell of him, and could think only +of how to get away quickly to her own room to make out the problem +in peace. The old man was beside himself: moved the chair on which +he was sitting noisily backward and forward, made efforts to control +himself and not become vehement, but almost always did become +vehement, scolded, and sometimes flung the exercise book away. + +The princess gave a wrong answer. + +"Well now, isn't she a fool!" shouted the prince, pushing the book +aside and turning sharply away; but rising immediately, he paced up +and down, lightly touched his daughter's hair and sat down again. + +He drew up his chair. and continued to explain. + +"This won't do, Princess; it won't do," said he, when Princess Mary, +having taken and closed the exercise book with the next day's +lesson, was about to leave: "Mathematics are most important, madam! +I don't want to have you like our silly ladies. Get used to it and +you'll like it," and he patted her cheek. "It will drive all the +nonsense out of your head." + +She turned to go, but he stopped her with a gesture and took an +uncut book from the high desk. + +"Here is some sort of Key to the Mysteries that your Heloise has +sent you. Religious! I don't interfere with anyone's belief... I +have looked at it. Take it. Well, now go. Go." + +He patted her on the shoulder and himself closed the door after her. + +Princess Mary went back to her room with the sad, scared +expression that rarely left her and which made her plain, sickly +face yet plainer. She sat down at her writing table, on which stood +miniature portraits and which was littered with books and papers. +The princess was as untidy as her father was tidy. She put down the +geometry book and eagerly broke the seal of her letter. It was from +her most intimate friend from childhood; that same Julie Karagina +who had been at the Rostovs' name-day party. + +Julie wrote in French: + +Dear and precious Friend, How terrible and frightful a thing is +separation! Though I tell myself that half my life and half my +happiness are wrapped up in you, and that in spite of the distance +separating us our hearts are united by indissoluble bonds, my heart +rebels against fate and in spite of the pleasures and distractions +around me I cannot overcome a certain secret sorrow that has been in +my heart ever since we parted. Why are we not together as we were last +summer, in your big study, on the blue sofa, the confidential sofa? +Why cannot I now, as three months ago, draw fresh moral strength +from your look, so gentle, calm, and penetrating, a look I loved so +well and seem to see before me as I write? + +Having read thus far, Princess Mary sighed and glanced into the +mirror which stood on her right. It reflected a weak, ungraceful +figure and thin face. Her eyes, always sad, now looked with particular +hopelessness at her reflection in the glass. "She flatters me," +thought the princess, turning away and continuing to read. But Julie +did not flatter her friend, the princess' eyes- large, deep and +luminous (it seemed as if at times there radiated from them shafts +of warm light)- were so beautiful that very often in spite of the +plainness of her face they gave her an attraction more powerful than +that of beauty. But the princess never saw the beautiful expression of +her own eyes- the look they had when she was not thinking of +herself. As with everyone, her face assumed a forced unnatural +expression as soon as she looked in a glass. She went on reading: + +All Moscow talks of nothing but war. One of my two brothers is +already abroad, the other is with the Guards, who are starting on +their march to the frontier. Our dear Emperor has left Petersburg +and it is thought intends to expose his precious person to the chances +of war. God grant that the Corsican monster who is destroying the +peace of Europe may be overthrown by the angel whom it has pleased the +Almighty, in His goodness, to give us as sovereign! To say nothing +of my brothers, this war has deprived me of one of the associations +nearest my heart. I mean young Nicholas Rostov, who with his +enthusiasm could not bear to remain inactive and has left the +university to join the army. I will confess to you, dear Mary, that in +spite of his extreme youth his departure for the army was a great +grief to me. This young man, of whom I spoke to you last summer, is so +noble-minded and full of that real youthfulness which one seldom finds +nowadays among our old men of twenty and, particularly, he is so frank +and has so much heart. He is so pure and poetic that my relations with +him, transient as they were, have been one of the sweetest comforts to +my poor heart, which has already suffered so much. Someday I will tell +you about our parting and all that was said then. That is still too +fresh. Ah, dear friend, you are happy not to know these poignant +joys and sorrows. You are fortunate, for the latter are generally +the stronger! I know very well that Count Nicholas is too young ever +to be more to me than a friend, but this sweet friendship, this poetic +and pure intimacy, were what my heart needed. But enough of this! +The chief news, about which all Moscow gossips, is the death of old +Count Bezukhov, and his inheritance. Fancy! The three princesses +have received very little, Prince Vasili nothing, and it is Monsieur +Pierre who has inherited all the property and has besides been +recognized as legitimate; so that he is now Count Bezukhov and +possessor of the finest fortune in Russia. It is rumored that Prince +Vasili played a very despicable part in this affair and that he +returned to Petersburg quite crestfallen. + +I confess I understand very little about all these matters of +wills and inheritance; but I do know that since this young man, whom +we all used to know as plain Monsieur Pierre, has become Count +Bezukhov and the owner of one of the largest fortunes in Russia, I +am much amused to watch the change in the tone and manners of the +mammas burdened by marriageable daughters, and of the young ladies +themselves, toward him, though, between you and me, he always seemed +to me a poor sort of fellow. As for the past two years people have +amused themselves by finding husbands for me (most of whom I don't +even know), the matchmaking chronicles of Moscow now speak of me as +the future Countess Bezukhova. But you will understand that I have +no desire for the post. A propos of marriages: do you know that a +while ago that universal auntie Anna Mikhaylovna told me, under the +seal of strict secrecy, of a plan of marriage for you. It is neither +more nor less than with Prince Vasili's son Anatole, whom they wish to +reform by marrying him to someone rich and distinguee, and it is on +you that his relations' choice has fallen. I don't know what you +will think of it, but I consider it my duty to let you know of it. +He is said to be very handsome and a terrible scapegrace. That is +all I have been able to find out about him. + +But enough of gossip. I am at the end of my second sheet of paper, +and Mamma has sent for me to go and dine at the Apraksins'. Read the +mystical book I am sending you; it has an enormous success here. +Though there are things in it difficult for the feeble human mind to +grasp, it is an admirable book which calms and elevates the soul. +Adieu! Give my respects to monsieur your father and my compliments +to Mademoiselle Bourienne. I embrace you as I love you. + +JULIE + +P.S. Let me have news of your brother and his charming little wife. + +The princess pondered awhile with a thoughtful smile and her +luminous eyes lit up so that her face was entirely transformed. Then +she suddenly rose and with her heavy tread went up to the table. She +took a sheet of paper and her hand moved rapidly over it. This is +the reply she wrote, also in French: + +Dear and precious Friend, Your letter of the 13th has given me great +delight. So you still love me, my romantic Julie? Separation, of which +you say so much that is bad, does not seem to have had its usual +effect on you. You complain of our separation. What then should I say, +if I dared complain, I who am deprived of all who are dear to me? +Ah, if we had not religion to console us life would be very sad. Why +do you suppose that I should look severely on your affection for +that young man? On such matters I am only severe with myself. I +understand such feelings in others, and if never having felt them I +cannot approve of them, neither do I condemn them. Only it seems to me +that Christian love, love of one's neighbor, love of one's enemy, is +worthier, sweeter, and better than the feelings which the beautiful +eyes of a young man can inspire in a romantic and loving young girl +like yourself. + +The news of Count Bezukhov's death reached us before your letter and +my father was much affected by it. He says the count was the last +representative but one of the great century, and that it is his own +turn now, but that he will do all he can to let his turn come as +late as possible. God preserve us from that terrible misfortune! + +I cannot agree with you about Pierre, whom I knew as a child. He +always seemed to me to have an excellent heart, and that is the +quality I value most in people. As to his inheritance and the part +played by Prince Vasili, it is very sad for both. Ah, my dear +friend, our divine Saviour's words, that it is easier for a camel to +go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the +Kingdom of God, are terribly true. I pity Prince Vasili but am still +more sorry for Pierre. So young, and burdened with such riches- to +what temptations he will be exposed! If I were asked what I desire +most on earth, it would be to be poorer than the poorest beggar. A +thousand thanks, dear friend, for the volume you have sent me and +which has such success in Moscow. Yet since you tell me that among +some good things it contains others which our weak human understanding +cannot grasp, it seems to me rather useless to spend time in reading +what is unintelligible and can therefore bear no fruit. I never +could understand the fondness some people have for confusing their +minds by dwelling on mystical books that merely awaken their doubts +and excite their imagination, giving them a bent for exaggeration +quite contrary to Christian simplicity. Let us rather read the +Epistles and Gospels. Let us not seek to penetrate what mysteries they +contain; for how can we, miserable sinners that we are, know the +terrible and holy secrets of Providence while we remain in this +flesh which forms an impenetrable veil between us and the Eternal? Let +us rather confine ourselves to studying those sublime rules which +our divine Saviour has left for our guidance here below. Let us try to +conform to them and follow them, and let us be persuaded that the less +we let our feeble human minds roam, the better we shall please God, +who rejects all knowledge that does not come from Him; and the less we +seek to fathom what He has been pleased to conceal from us, the sooner +will He vouchsafe its revelation to us through His divine Spirit. + +My father has not spoken to me of a suitor, but has only told me +that he has received a letter and is expecting a visit from Prince +Vasili. In regard to this project of marriage for me, I will tell you, +dear sweet friend, that I look on marriage as a divine institution +to which we must conform. However painful it may be to me, should +the Almighty lay the duties of wife and wife and mother upon me I +shall try to perform them as faithfully as I can, without +disquieting myself by examining my feelings toward him whom He may +give me for husband. + +I have had a letter from my brother, who announces his speedy +arrival at Bald Hills with his wife. This pleasure will be but a brief +one, however, for he will leave, us again to take part in this unhappy +war into which we have been drawn, God knows how or why. Not only +where you are- at the heart of affairs and of the world- is the talk +all of war, even here amid fieldwork and the calm of nature- which +townsfolk consider characteristic of the country- rumors of war are +heard and painfully felt. My father talks of nothing but marches and +countermarches, things of which I understand nothing; and the day +before yesterday during my daily walk through the village I +witnessed a heartrending scene.... It was a convoy of conscripts +enrolled from our people and starting to join the army. You should +have seen the state of the mothers, wives, and children of the men who +were going and should have heard the sobs. It seems as though +mankind has forgotten the laws of its divine Saviour, Who preached +love and forgiveness of injuries- and that men attribute the +greatest merit to skill in killing one another. + +Adieu, dear and kind friend; may our divine Saviour and His most +Holy Mother keep you in their holy and all-powerful care! + +MARY + +"Ah, you are sending off a letter, Princess? I have already +dispatched mine. I have written to my poor mother," said the smiling +Mademoiselle Bourienne rapidly, in her pleasant mellow tones and +with guttural r's. She brought into Princess Mary's strenuous, +mournful, and gloomy world a quite different atmosphere, careless, +lighthearted, and self-satisfied. + +"Princess, I must warn you," she added, lowering her voice and +evidently listening to herself with pleasure, and speaking with +exaggerated grasseyement, "the prince has been scolding Michael +Ivanovich. He is in a very bad humor, very morose. Be prepared." + +"Ah, dear friend," replied Princess Mary, "I have asked you never to +warn me of the humor my father is in. I do not allow myself to judge +him and would not have others do so." + +The princess glanced at her watch and, seeing that she was five +minutes late in starting her practice on the clavichord, went into the +sitting room with a look of alarm. Between twelve and two o'clock, +as the day was mapped out, the prince rested and the princess played +the clavichord. + +CHAPTER XXVI + +The gray-haired valet was sitting drowsily listening to the +snoring of the prince, who was in his large study. From the far side +of the house through the closed doors came the sound of difficult +passages- twenty times repeated- of a sonata by Dussek. + +Just then a closed carriage and another with a hood drove up to +the porch. Prince Andrew got out of the carriage, helped his little +wife to alight, and let her pass into the house before him. Old +Tikhon, wearing a wig, put his head out of the door of the +antechamber, reported in a whisper that the prince was sleeping, and +hastily closed the door. Tikhon knew that neither the son's arrival +nor any other unusual event must be allowed to disturb the appointed +order of the day. Prince Andrew apparently knew this as well as +Tikhon; he looked at his watch as if to ascertain whether his father's +habits had changed since he was at home last, and, having assured +himself that they had not, he turned to his wife. + +"He will get up in twenty minutes. Let us go across to Mary's room," +he said. + +The little princess had grown stouter during this time, but her eyes +and her short, downy, smiling lip lifted when she began to speak +just as merrily and prettily as ever. + +"Why, this is a palace!" she said to her husband, looking around +with the expression with which people compliment their host at a ball. +"Let's come, quick, quick!" And with a glance round, she smiled at +Tikhon, at her husband, and at the footman who accompanied them. + +"Is that Mary practicing? Let's go quietly and take her by +surprise." + +Prince Andrew followed her with a courteous but sad expression. + +"You've grown older, Tikhon," he said in passing to the old man, who +kissed his hand. + +Before they reached the room from which the sounds of the clavichord +came, the pretty, fair haired Frenchwoman, Mademoiselle Bourienne, +rushed out apparently beside herself with delight. + +"Ah! what joy for the princess!" exclaimed she: "At last! I must let +her know." + +"No, no, please not... You are Mademoiselle Bourienne," said the +little princess, kissing her. "I know you already through my +sister-in-law's friendship for you. She was not expecting us?" + +They went up to the door of the sitting room from which came the +sound of the oft-repeated passage of the sonata. Prince Andrew stopped +and made a grimace, as if expecting something unpleasant. + +The little princess entered the room. The passage broke off in the +middle, a cry was heard, then Princess Mary's heavy tread and the +sound of kissing. When Prince Andrew went in the two princesses, who +had only met once before for a short time at his wedding, were in each +other's arms warmly pressing their lips to whatever place they +happened to touch. Mademoiselle Bourienne stood near them pressing her +hand to her heart, with a beatific smile and obviously equally ready +to cry or to laugh. Prince Andrew shrugged his shoulders and +frowned, as lovers of music do when they hear a false note. The two +women let go of one another, and then, as if afraid of being too late, +seized each other's hands, kissing them and pulling them away, and +again began kissing each other on the face, and then to Prince +Andrew's surprise both began to cry and kissed again. Mademoiselle +Bourienne also began to cry. Prince Andrew evidently felt ill at ease, +but to the two women it seemed quite natural that they should cry, and +apparently it never entered their heads that it could have been +otherwise at this meeting. + +"Ah! my dear!... Ah! Mary!" they suddenly exclaimed, and then +laughed. "I dreamed last night..."- "You were not expecting us?..."- +"Ah! Mary, you have got thinner?..." "And you have grown stouter!..." + +"I knew the princess at once," put in Mademoiselle Bourienne. + +"And I had no idea!..." exclaimed Princess Mary. "Ah, Andrew, I +did not see you." + +Prince Andrew and his sister, hand in hand, kissed one another, +and he told her she was still the same crybaby as ever. Princess +Mary had turned toward her brother, and through her tears the +loving, warm, gentle look of her large luminous eyes, very beautiful +at that moment, rested on Prince Andrew's face. + +The little princess talked incessantly, her short, downy upper lip +continually and rapidly touching her rosy nether lip when necessary +and drawing up again next moment when her face broke into a smile of +glittering teeth and sparkling eyes. She told of an accident they +had had on the Spasski Hill which might have been serious for her in +her condition, and immediately after that informed them that she had +left all her clothes in Petersburg and that heaven knew what she would +have to dress in here; and that Andrew had quite changed, and that +Kitty Odyntsova had married an old man, and that there was a suitor +for Mary, a real one, but that they would talk of that later. Princess +Mary was still looking silently at her brother and her beautiful +eyes were full of love and sadness. It was plain that she was +following a train of thought independent of her sister-in-law's words. +In the midst of a description of the last Petersburg fete she +addressed her brother: + +"So you are really going to the war, Andrew?" she said sighing. + +Lise sighed too. + +"Yes, and even tomorrow," replied her brother. + +"He is leaving me here, God knows why, when he might have had +promotion..." + +Princess Mary did not listen to the end, but continuing her train of +thought turned to her sister-in-law with a tender glance at her +figure. + +"Is it certain?" she said. + +The face of the little princess changed. She sighed and said: +"Yes, quite certain. Ah! it is very dreadful..." + +Her lip descended. She brought her face close to her sister-in-law's +and unexpectedly again began to cry. + +"She needs rest," said Prince Andrew with a frown. "Don't you, Lise? +Take her to your room and I'll go to Father. How is he? Just the +same?" + +"Yes, just the same. Though I don't know what your opinion will be," +answered the princess joyfully. + +"And are the hours the same? And the walks in the avenues? And the +lathe?" asked Prince Andrew with a scarcely perceptible smile which +showed that, in spite of all his love and respect for his father, he +was aware of his weaknesses. + +"The hours are the same, and the lathe, and also the mathematics and +my geometry lessons," said Princess Mary gleefully, as if her +lessons in geometry were among the greatest delights of her life. + +When the twenty minutes had elapsed and the time had come for the +old prince to get up, Tikhon came to call the young prince to his +father. The old man made a departure from his usual routine in honor +of his son's arrival: he gave orders to admit him to his apartments +while he dressed for dinner. The old prince always dressed in +old-fashioned style, wearing an antique coat and powdered hair; and +when Prince Andrew entered his father's dressing room (not with the +contemptuous look and manner he wore in drawing rooms, but with the +animated face with which he talked to Pierre), the old man was sitting +on a large leather-covered chair, wrapped in a powdering mantle, +entrusting his head to Tikhon. + +"Ah! here's the warrior! Wants to vanquish Buonaparte?" said the old +man, shaking his powdered head as much as the tail, which Tikhon was +holding fast to plait, would allow. + +"You at least must tackle him properly, or else if he goes on like +this he'll soon have us, too, for his subjects! How are you?" And he +held out his cheek. + +The old man was in a good temper after his nap before dinner. (He +used to say that a nap "after dinner was silver- before dinner, +golden.") He cast happy, sidelong glances at his son from under his +thick, bushy eyebrows. Prince Andrew went up and kissed his father +on the spot indicated to him. He made no reply on his father's +favorite topic- making fun of the military men of the day, and more +particularly of Bonaparte. + +"Yes, Father, I have come come to you and brought my wife who is +pregnant," said Prince Andrew, following every movement of his +father's face with an eager and respectful look. "How is your health?" + +"Only fools and rakes fall ill, my boy. You know me: I am busy +from morning till night and abstemious, so of course I am well." + +"Thank God," said his son smiling. + +"God has nothing to do with it! Well, go on," he continued, +returning to his hobby; "tell me how the Germans have taught you to +fight Bonaparte by this new science you call 'strategy.'" + +Prince Andrew smiled. + +"Give me time to collect my wits, Father," said he, with a smile +that showed that his father's foibles did not prevent his son from +loving and honoring him. "Why, I have not yet had time to settle +down!" + +"Nonsense, nonsense!" cried the old man, shaking his pigtail to +see whether it was firmly plaited, and grasping his by the hand. +"The house for your wife is ready. Princess Mary will take her there +and show her over, and they'll talk nineteen to the dozen. That's +their woman's way! I am glad to have her. Sit down and talk. About +Mikhelson's army I understand- Tolstoy's too... a simultaneous +expedition.... But what's the southern army to do? Prussia is +neutral... I know that. What about Austria?" said he, rising from +his chair and pacing up and down the room followed by Tikhon, who +ran after him, handing him different articles of clothing. "What of +Sweden? How will they cross Pomerania?" + +Prince Andrew, seeing that his father insisted, began- at first +reluctantly, but gradually with more and more animation, and from +habit changing unconsciously from Russian to French as he went on- +to explain the plan of operation for the coming campaign. He explained +how an army, ninety thousand strong, was to threaten Prussia so as +to bring her out of her neutrality and draw her into the war; how part +of that army was to join some Swedish forces at Stralsund; how two +hundred and twenty thousand Austrians, with a hundred thousand +Russians, were to operate in Italy and on the Rhine; how fifty + +thousand Russians and as many English were to land at Naples, and +how a total force of five hundred thousand men was to attack the +French from different sides. The old prince did not evince the least +interest during this explanation, but as if he were not listening to +it continued to dress while walking about, and three times +unexpectedly interrupted. Once he stopped it by shouting: "The white +one, the white one!" + +This meant that Tikhon was not handing him the waistcoat he +wanted. Another time he interrupted, saying: + +"And will she soon be confined?" and shaking his head +reproachfully said: "That's bad! Go on, go on." + +The third interruption came when Prince Andrew was finishing his +description. The old man began to sing, in the cracked voice of old +age: "Malbrook s'en va-t-en guerre. Dieu sait quand reviendra."~^ + +^~ "Marlborough is going to the wars; God knows when he'll return." + +His son only smiled. + +"I don't say it's a plan I approve of," said the son; "I am only +telling you what it is. Napoleon has also formed his plan by now, +not worse than this one." + +"Well, you've told me nothing new," and the old man repeated, +meditatively and rapidly: + +"Dieu sait quand reviendra. Go to the dining room." + +CHAPTER XXVII + +At the appointed hour the prince, powdered and shaven, entered the +dining room where his daughter-in-law, Princess Mary, and Mademoiselle +Bourienne were already awaiting him together with his architect, who +by a strange caprice of his employer's was admitted to table though +the position of that insignificant individual was such as could +certainly not have caused him to expect that honor. The prince, who +generally kept very strictly to social distinctions and rarely +admitted even important government officials to his table, had +unexpectedly selected Michael Ivanovich (who always went into a corner +to blow his nose on his checked handkerchief) to illustrate the theory +that all men are equals, and had more than once impressed on his +daughter that Michael Ivanovich was "not a whit worse than you or +I." At dinner the prince usually spoke to the taciturn Michael +Ivanovich more often than to anyone else. + +In the dining room, which like all the rooms in the house was +exceedingly lofty, the members of the household and the footmen- one +behind each chair- stood waiting for the prince to enter. The head +butler, napkin on arm, was scanning the setting of the table, making +signs to the footmen, and anxiously glancing from the clock to the +door by which the prince was to enter. Prince Andrew was looking at +a large gilt frame, new to him, containing the genealogical tree of +the Princes Bolkonski, opposite which hung another such frame with a +badly painted portrait (evidently by the hand of the artist +belonging to the estate) of a ruling prince, in a crown- an alleged +descendant of Rurik and ancestor of the Bolkonskis. Prince Andrew, +looking again at that genealogical tree, shook his head, laughing as a +man laughs who looks at a portrait so characteristic of the original +as to be amusing. + +"How thoroughly like him that is!" he said to Princess Mary, who had +come up to him. + +Princess Mary looked at her brother in surprise. She did not +understand what he was laughing at. Everything her father did inspired +her with reverence and was beyond question. + +"Everyone has his Achilles' heel," continued Prince Andrew. +"Fancy, with his powerful mind, indulging in such nonsense!" + +Princess Mary could not understand the boldness of her brother's +criticism and was about to reply, when the expected footsteps were +heard coming from the study. The prince walked in quickly and jauntily +as was his wont, as if intentionally contrasting the briskness of +his manners with the strict formality of his house. At that moment the +great clock struck two and another with a shrill tone joined in from +the drawing room. The prince stood still; his lively glittering eyes +from under their thick, bushy eyebrows sternly scanned all present and +rested on the little princess. She felt, as courtiers do when the Tsar +enters, the sensation of fear and respect which the old man inspired +in all around him. He stroked her hair and then patted her awkwardly +on the back of her neck. + +"I'm glad, glad, to see you," he said, looking attentively into +her eyes, and then quickly went to his place and sat down. "Sit +down, sit down! Sit down, Michael Ianovich!" + +He indicated a place beside him to his daughter-in-law. A footman +moved the chair for her. + +"Ho, ho!" said the old man, casting his eyes on her rounded +figure. "You've been in a hurry. That's bad!" + +He laughed in his usual dry, cold, unpleasant way, with his lips +only and not with his eyes. + +"You must walk, walk as much as possible, as much as possible," he +said. + +The little princess did not, or did not wish to, hear his words. She +was silent and seemed confused. The prince asked her about her father, +and she began to smile and talk. He asked about mutual +acquaintances, and she became still more animated and chattered away +giving him greetings from various people and retailing the town +gossip. + +"Countess Apraksina, poor thing, has lost her husband and she has +cried her eyes out," she said, growing more and more lively. + +As she became animated the prince looked at her more and more +sternly, and suddenly, as if he had studied her sufficiently and had +formed a definite idea of her, he turned away and addressed Michael +Ivanovich. + +"Well, Michael Ivanovich, our Bonaparte will be having a bad time of +it. Prince Andrew" (he always spoke thus of his son) "has been telling +me what forces are being collected against him! While you and I +never thought much of him." + +Michael Ivanovich did not at all know when "you and I" had said such +things about Bonaparte, but understanding that he was wanted as a +peg on which to hang the prince's favorite topic, he looked +inquiringly at the young prince, wondering what would follow. + +"He is a great tactician!" said the prince to his son, pointing to +the architect. + +And the conversation again turned on the war, on Bonaparte, and +the generals and statesmen of the day. The old prince seemed convinced +not only that all the men of the day were mere babies who did not know +the A B C of war or of politics, and that Bonaparte was an +insignificant little Frenchy, successful only because there were no +longer any Potemkins or Suvorovs left to oppose him; but he was also +convinced that there were no political difficulties in Europe and no +real war, but only a sort of puppet show at which the men of the day +were playing, pretending to do something real. Prince Andrew gaily +bore with his father's ridicule of the new men, and drew him on and +listened to him with evident pleasure. + +"The past always seems good," said he, "but did not Suvorov +himself fall into a trap Moreau set him, and from which he did not +know how to escape?" + +"Who told you that? Who?" cried the prince. "Suvorov!" And he jerked +away his plate, which Tikhon briskly caught. "Suvorov!... Consider, +Prince Andrew. Two... Frederick and Suvorov; Moreau!... Moreau would +have been a prisoner if Suvorov had had a free hand; but he had the +Hofs-kriegs-wurst-schnapps-Rath on his hands. It would have puzzled +the devil himself! When you get there you'll find out what those +Hofs-kriegs-wurst-Raths are! Suvorov couldn't manage them so what +chance has Michael Kutuzov? No, my dear boy," he continued, "you and +your generals won't get on against Buonaparte; you'll have to call +in the French, so that birds of a feather may fight together. The +German, Pahlen, has been sent to New York in America, to fetch the +Frenchman, Moreau," he said, alluding to the invitation made that year +to Moreau to enter the Russian service.... "Wonderful!... Were the +Potemkins, Suvorovs, and Orlovs Germans? No, lad, either you fellows +have all lost your wits, or I have outlived mine. May God help you, +but we'll see what will happen. Buonaparte has become a great +commander among them! Hm!..." + +"I don't at all say that all the plans are good," said Prince +Andrew, "I am only surprised at your opinion of Bonaparte. You may +laugh as much as you like, but all the same Bonaparte is a great +generall" + +"Michael Ivanovich!" cried the old prince to the architect who, busy +with his roast meat, hoped he had been forgotten: "Didn't I tell you +Buonaparte was a great tactician? Here, he says same thing." + +"To be sure, your excellency." replied the architect. + +The prince again laughed his frigid laugh. + +"Buonaparte was born with a silver spoon in his mouth. He has got +splendid soldiers. Besides he began by attacking Germans. And only +idlers have failed to beat the Germans. Since the world began +everybody has beaten the Germans. They beat no one- except one +another. He made his reputation fighting them." + +And the prince began explaining all the blunders which, according to +him, Bonaparte had made in his campaigns and even in politics. His son +made no rejoinder, but it was evident that whatever arguments were +presented he was as little able as his father to change his opinion. +He listened, refraining from a reply, and involuntarily wondered how +this old man, living alone in the country for so many years, could +know and discuss so minutely and acutely all the recent European +military and political events. + +"You think I'm an old man and don't understand the present state +of affairs?" concluded his father. "But it troubles me. I don't +sleep at night. Come now, where has this great commander of yours +shown his skill?" he concluded. + +"That would take too long to tell," answered the son. + +"Well, then go to your Buonaparte! Mademoiselle Bourienne, here's +another admirer of that powder-monkey emperor of yours," he +exclaimed in excellent French. + +"You know, Prince, I am not a Bonapartist!" + +"Dieu sait quand reviendra"... hummed the prince out of tune and, +with a laugh still more so, he quitted the table. + +The little princess during the whole discussion and the rest of +the dinner sat silent, glancing with a frightened look now at her +father-in-law and now at Princess Mary. When they left the table she +took her sister-in-law's arm and drew her into another room. + +"What a clever man your father is," said she; "perhaps that is why I +am afraid of him." + +"Oh, he is so kind!" answered Princess Mary. + +CHAPTER XXVIII + +Prince Andrew was to leave next evening. The old prince, not +altering his routine, retired as usual after dinner. The little +princess was in her sister-in-law's room. Prince Andrew in a traveling +coat without epaulettes had been packing with his valet in the rooms +assigned to him. After inspecting the carriage himself and seeing +the trunks put in, he ordered the horses to be harnessed. Only those +things he always kept with him remained in his room; a small box, a +large canteen fitted with silver plate, two Turkish pistols and a +saber- a present from his father who had brought it from the siege +of Ochakov. All these traveling effects of Prince Andrew's were in +very good order: new, clean, and in cloth covers carefully tied with +tapes. + +When starting on a journey or changing their mode of life, men +capable of reflection are generally in a serious frame of mind. At +such moments one reviews the past and plans for the future. Prince +Andrew's face looked very thoughtful and tender. With his hands behind +him he paced briskly from corner to corner of the room, looking +straight before him and thoughtfully shaking his head. Did he fear +going to the war, or was he sad at leaving his wife?- perhaps both, +but evidently he did not wish to be seen in that mood, for hearing +footsteps in the passage he hurriedly unclasped his hands, stopped +at a table as if tying the cover of the small box, and assumed his +usual tranquil and impenetrable expression. It was the heavy tread +of Princess Mary that he heard. + +"I hear you have given orders to harness," she cried, panting (she +had apparently been running), "and I did so wish to have another +talk with you alone! God knows how long we may again be parted. You +are not angry with me for coming? You have changed so, Andrusha," +she added, as if to explain such a question. + +She smiled as she uttered his pet name, "Andrusha." It was obviously +strange to her to think that this stern handsome man should be +Andrusha- the slender mischievous boy who had been her playfellow in +childhood. + +"And where is Lise?" he asked, answering her question only by a +smile. + +"She was so tired that she has fallen asleep on the sofa in my room. +Oh, Andrew! What a treasure of a wife you have," said she, sitting +down on the sofa, facing her brother. "She is quite a child: such a +dear, merry child. I have grown so fond of her." + +Prince Andrew was silent, but the princess noticed the ironical +and contemptuous look that showed itself on his face. + +"One must be indulgent to little weaknesses; who is free from +them, Andrew? Don't forget that she has grown up and been educated +in society, and so her position now is not a rosy one. We should enter +into everyone's situation. Tout comprendre, c'est tout pardonner.~^ +Think it must be for her, poor thing, after what she has been used to, +to be parted from her husband and be left alone the country, in her +condition! It's very hard." + +^~ To understand all is to forgive all. + +Prince Andrew smiled as he looked at his sister, as we smile at +those we think we thoroughly understand. + +"You live in the country and don't think the life terrible," he +replied. + +"I... that's different. Why speak of me? I don't want any other +life, and can't, for I know no other. But think, Andrew: for a young +society woman to be buried in the country during the best years of her +life, all alone- for Papa is always busy, and I... well, you know what +poor resources I have for entertaining a woman used to the best +society. There is only Mademoiselle Bourienne...." + +"I don't like your Mademoiselle Bourienne at all," said Prince +Andrew. + +"No? She is very nice and kind and, above all, she's much to be +pitied. She has no one, no one. To tell the truth, I don't need her, +and she's even in my way. You know I always was a savage, and now am +even more so. I like being alone.... Father likes her very much. She +and Michael Ivanovich are the two people to whom he is always gentle +and kind, because he has been a benefactor to them both. As Sterne +says: 'We don't love people so much for the good they have done us, as +for the good we have done them.' Father took her when she was homeless +after losing her own father. She is very good-natured, and my father +likes her way of reading. She reads to him in the evenings and reads +splendidly." + +"To be quite frank, Mary, I expect Father's character sometimes +makes things trying for you, doesn't it?" Prince Andrew asked +suddenly. + +Princess Mary was first surprised and then aghast at this question. + +"For me? For me?... Trying for me!..." said she. + +"He always was rather harsh; and now I should think he's getting +very trying," said Prince Andrew, apparently speaking lightly of their +father in order to puzzle or test his sister. + +"You are good in every way, Andrew, but you have a kind of +intellectual pride," said the princess, following the train of her own +thoughts rather than the trend of the conversation- "and that's a +great sin. How can one judge Father? But even if one might, what +feeling except veneration could such a man as my father evoke? And I +am so contented and happy with him. I only wish you were all as +happy as I am." + +Her brother shook his head incredulously. + +"The only thing that is hard for me... I will tell you the truth, +Andrew... is Father's way of treating religious subjects. I don't +understand how a man of his immense intellect can fail to see what +is as clear as day, and can go so far astray. That is the only thing +that makes me unhappy. But even in this I can see lately a shade of +improvement. His satire has been less bitter of late, and there was +a monk he received and had a long talk with." + +"Ah! my dear, I am afraid you and your monk are wasting your +powder," said Prince Andrew banteringly yet tenderly. + +"Ah! mon ami, I only pray, and hope that God will hear me. +Andrew..." she said timidly after a moment's silence, "I have a +great favor to ask of you." + +"What is it, dear?" + +"No- promise that you will not refuse! It will give you no trouble +and is nothing unworthy of you, but it will comfort me. Promise, +Andrusha!..." said she, putting her hand in her reticule but not yet +taking out what she was holding inside it, as if what she held were +the subject of her request and must not be shown before the request +was granted. + +She looked timidly at her brother. + +"Even if it were a great deal of trouble..." answered Prince Andrew, +as if guessing what it was about. + +"Think what you please! I know you are just like Father. Think as +you please, but do this for my sake! Please do! Father's father, our +grandfather, wore it in all his wars." (She still did not take out +what she was holding in her reticule.) "So you promise?" + +"Of course. What is it?" + +"Andrew, I bless you with this icon and you must promise me you will +never take it off. Do you promise?" + +"If it does not weigh a hundredweight and won't break my neck... +To please you..." said Prince Andrew. But immediately, noticing the +pained expression his joke had brought to his sister's face, he +repented and added: "I am glad; really, dear, I am very glad." + +"Against your will He will save and have mercy on you and bring +you to Himself, for in Him alone is truth and peace," said she in a +voice trembling with emotion, solemnly holding up in both hands before +her brother a small, oval, antique, dark-faced icon of the Saviour +in a gold setting, on a finely wrought silver chain. + +She crossed herself, kissed the icon, and handed it to Andrew. + +"Please, Andrew, for my sake!..." + +Rays of gentle light shone from her large, timid eyes. Those eyes +lit up the whole of her thin, sickly face and made it beautiful. Her +brother would have taken the icon, but she stopped him. Andrew +understood, crossed himself and kissed the icon. There was a look of +tenderness, for he was touched, but also a gleam of irony on his face. + +"Thank you, my dear." She kissed him on the forehead and sat down +again on the sofa. They were silent for a while. + +"As I was saying to you, Andrew, be kind and generous as you +always used to be. Don't judge Lise harshly," she began. "She is so +sweet, so good-natured, and her position now is a very hard one." + +"I do not think I have complained of my wife to you, Masha, or +blamed her. Why do you say all this to me?" + +Red patches appeared on Princess Mary's face and she was silent as +if she felt guilty. + +"I have said nothing to you, but you have already been talked to. +And I am sorry for that," he went on. + +The patches grew deeper on her forehead, neck, and cheeks. She tried +to say something but could not. Her brother had guessed right: the +little princess had been crying after dinner and had spoken of her +forebodings about her confinement, and how she dreaded it, and had +complained of her fate, her father-in-law, and her husband. After +crying she had fallen asleep. Prince Andrew felt sorry for his sister. + +"Know this, Masha: I can't reproach, have not reproached, and +never shall reproach my wife with anything, and I cannot reproach +myself with anything in regard to her; and that always will be so in +whatever circumstances I may be placed. But if you want to know the +truth... if you want to know whether I am happy? No! Is she happy? No! +But why this is so I don't know..." + +As he said this he rose, went to his sister, and, stooping, kissed +her forehead. His fine eyes lit up with a thoughtful, kindly, and +unaccustomed brightness, but he was looking not at his sister but over +her head toward the darkness of the open doorway. + +"Let us go to her, I must say good-by. Or- go and wake and I'll come +in a moment. Petrushka!" he called to his valet: "Come here, take +these away. Put this on the seat and this to the right." + +Princess Mary rose and moved to the door, then stopped and said: +"Andrew, if you had faith you would have turned to God and asked Him +to give you the love you do not feel, and your prayer would have +been answered." + +"Well, may be!" said Prince Andrew. "Go, Masha; I'll come +immediately." + +On the way to his sister's room, in the passage which connected +one wing with the other, Prince Andrew met Mademoiselle Bourienne +smiling sweetly. It was the third time that day that, with an ecstatic +and artless smile, she had met him in secluded passages. + +"Oh! I thought you were in your room," she said, for some reason +blushing and dropping her eyes. + +Prince Andrew looked sternly at her and an expression of anger +suddenly came over his face. He said nothing to her but looked at +her forehead and hair, without looking at her eyes, with such contempt +that the Frenchwoman blushed and went away without a word. When he +reached his sister's room his wife was already awake and her merry +voice, hurrying one word after another, came through the open door. +She was speaking as usual in French, and as if after long +self-restraint she wished to make up for lost time. + +"No, but imagine the old Countess Zubova, with false curls and her +mouth full of false teeth, as if she were trying to cheat old +age.... Ha, ha, ha! Mary!" + +This very sentence about Countess Zubova and this same laugh +Prince Andrew had already heard from his wife in the presence of +others some five times. He entered the room softly. The little +princess, plump and rosy, was sitting in an easy chair with her work +in her hands, talking incessantly, repeating Petersburg +reminiscences and even phrases. Prince Andrew came up, stroked her +hair, and asked if she felt rested after their journey. She answered +him and continued her chatter. + +The coach with six horses was waiting at the porch. It was an autumn +night, so dark that the coachman could not see the carriage pole. +Servants with lanterns were bustling about in the porch. The immense +house was brilliant with lights shining through its lofty windows. The +domestic serfs were crowding in the hall, waiting to bid good-by to +the young prince. The members of the household were all gathered in +the reception hall: Michael Ivanovich, Mademoiselle Bourienne, +Princess Mary, and the little princess. Prince Andrew had been +called to his father's study as the latter wished to say good-by to +him alone. All were waiting for them to come out. + +When Prince Andrew entered the study the old man in his old-age +spectacles and white dressing gown, in which he received no one but +his son, sat at the table writing. He glanced round. + +"Going?" And he went on writing. + +"I've come to say good-by." + +"Kiss me here," and he touched his cheek: "Thanks, thanks!" + +"What do you thank me for?" + +"For not dilly-dallying and not hanging to a woman's apron +strings. The Service before everything. Thanks, thanks!" And he went +on writing, so that his quill spluttered and squeaked. "If you have +anything to say, say it. These two things can be done together," he +added. + +"About my wife... I am ashamed as it is to leave her on your +hands..." + +"Why talk nonsense? Say what you want." + +"When her confinement is due, send to Moscow for an accoucheur.... +Let him be here...." + +The old prince stopped writing and, as if not understanding, fixed +his stern eyes on his son. + +"I know that no one can help if nature does not do her work," said +Prince Andrew, evidently confused. "I know that out of a million cases +only one goes wrong, but it is her fancy and mine. They have been +telling her things. She has had a dream and is frightened." + +"Hm... Hm..." muttered the old prince to himself, finishing what +he was writing. "I'll do it." + +He signed with a flourish and suddenly turning to his son began to +laugh. + +"It's a bad business, eh?" + +"What is bad, Father?" + +"The wife!" said the old prince, briefly and significantly. + +"I don't understand!" said Prince Andrew. + +"No, it can't be helped, lad," said the prince. "They're all like +that; one can't unmarry. Don't be afraid; I won't tell anyone, but you +know it yourself." + +He seized his son by the hand with small bony fingers, shook it, +looked straight into his son's face with keen eyes which seemed to see +through him, and again laughed his frigid laugh. + +The son sighed, thus admitting that his father had understood him. +The old man continued to fold and seal his letter, snatching up and +throwing down the wax, the seal, and the paper, with his accustomed +rapidity. + +"What's to be done? She's pretty! I will do everything. Make your +mind easy," said he in abrupt sentences while sealing his letter. + +Andrew did not speak; he was both pleased and displeased that his +father understood him. The old man got up and gave the letter to his +son. + +"Listen!" said he; "don't worry about your wife: what can be done +shall be. Now listen! Give this letter to Michael Ilarionovich.~^ I +have written that he should make use of you in proper places and not +keep you long as an adjutant: a bad position! Tell him I remember +and like him. Write and tell me how he receives you. If he is all +right- serve him. Nicholas Bolkonski's son need not serve under anyone +if he is in disfavor. Now come here." + +^~ Kutuzov. + +He spoke so rapidly that he did not finish half his words, but his +son was accustomed to understand him. He led him to the desk, raised +the lid, drew out a drawer, and took out an exercise book filled +with his bold, tall, close handwriting. + +"I shall probably die before you. So remember, these are my memoirs; +hand them to the Emperor after my death. Now here is a Lombard bond +and a letter; it is a premium for the man who writes a history of +Suvorov's wars. Send it to the Academy. Here are some jottings for you +to read when I am gone. You will find them useful." + +Andrew did not tell his father that he would no doubt live a long +time yet. He felt that he must not say it. + +"I will do it all, Father," he said. + +"Well, now, good-by!" He gave his son his hand to kiss, and embraced +him. "Remember this, Prince Andrew, if they kill you it will hurt +me, your old father..." he paused unexpectedly, and then in a +querulous voice suddenly shrieked: "but if I hear that you have not +behaved like a son of Nicholas Bolkonski, I shall be ashamed!" + +"You need not have said that to me, Father," said the son with a +smile. + +The old man was silent. + +"I also wanted to ask you," continued Prince Andrew, "if I'm +killed and if I have a son, do not let him be taken away from you- +as I said yesterday... let him grow up with you.... Please." + +"Not let the wife have him?" said the old man, and laughed. + +They stood silent, facing one another. The old man's sharp eyes were +fixed straight on his son's. Something twitched in the lower part of +the old prince's face. + +"We've said good-by. Go!" he suddenly shouted in a loud, angry +voice, opening his door. + +"What is it? What?" asked both princesses when they saw for a moment +at the door Prince Andrew and the figure of the old man in a white +dressing gown, spectacled and wigless, shouting in an angry voice. + +Prince Andrew sighed and made no reply. + +"Well!" he said, turning to his wife. + +And this "Well!" sounded coldly ironic, as if he were saying,: +"Now go through your performance." + +"Andrew, already!" said the little princess, turning pale and +looking with dismay at her husband. + +He embraced her. She screamed and fell unconscious on his shoulder. + +He cautiously released the shoulder she leaned on, looked into her +face, and carefully placed her in an easy chair. + +"Adieu, Mary," said he gently to his sister, taking her by the +hand and kissing her, and then he left the room with rapid steps. + +The little princess lay in the armchair, Mademoiselle Bourienne +chafing her temples. Princess Mary, supporting her sister-in-law, +still looked with her beautiful eyes full of tears at the door through +which Prince Andrew had gone and made the sign of the cross in his +direction. From the study, like pistol shots, came the frequent +sound of the old man angrily blowing his nose. Hardly had Prince +Andrew gone when the study door opened quickly and the stern figure of +the old man in the white dressing gown looked out. + +"Gone? That's all right!" said he; and looking angrily at the +unconscious little princess, he shook his head reprovingly and slammed +the door. + +BOOK TWO: 1805 + +CHAPTER I + +In October, 1805, a Russian army was occupying the villages and +towns of the Archduchy of Austria, and yet other regiments freshly +arriving from Russia were settling near the fortress of Braunau and +burdening the inhabitants on whom they were quartered. Braunau was the +headquarters of the commander-in-chief, Kutuzov. + +On October 11, 1805, one of the infantry regiments that had just +reached Braunau had halted half a mile from the town, waiting to be +inspected by the commander in chief. Despite the un-Russian appearance +of the locality and surroundings- fruit gardens, stone fences, tiled +roofs, and hills in the distance- and despite the fact that the +inhabitants (who gazed with curiosity at the soldiers) were not +Russians, the regiment had just the appearance of any Russian regiment +preparing for an inspection anywhere in the heart of Russia. + +On the evening of the last day's march an order had been received +that the commander in chief would inspect the regiment on the march. +Though the words of the order were not clear to the regimental +commander, and the question arose whether the troops were to be in +marching order or not, it was decided at a consultation between the +battalion commanders to present the regiment in parade order, on the +principle that it is always better to "bow too low than not bow low +enough." So the soldiers, after a twenty-mile march, were kept mending +and cleaning all night long without closing their eyes, while the +adjutants and company commanders calculated and reckoned, and by +morning the regiment- instead of the straggling, disorderly crowd it +had been on its last march the day before- presented a well-ordered +array of two thousand men each of whom knew his place and his duty, +had every button and every strap in place, and shone with cleanliness. +And not only externally was all in order, but had it pleased the +commander in chief to look under the uniforms he would have found on +every man a clean shirt, and in every knapsack the appointed number of +articles, "awl, soap, and all," as the soldiers say. There was only +one circumstance concerning which no one could be at ease. It was +the state of the soldiers' boots. More than half the men's boots +were in holes. But this defect was not due to any fault of the +regimental commander, for in spite of repeated demands boots had not +been issued by the Austrian commissariat, and the regiment had marched +some seven hundred miles. + +The commander of the regiment was an elderly, choleric, stout, and +thick-set general with grizzled eyebrows and whiskers, and wider +from chest to back than across the shoulders. He had on a brand-new +uniform showing the creases where it had been folded and thick gold +epaulettes which seemed to stand rather than lie down on his massive +shoulders. He had the air of a man happily performing one of the +most solemn duties of his life. He walked about in front of the line +and at every step pulled himself up, slightly arching his back. It was +plain that the commander admired his regiment, rejoiced in it, and +that his whole mind was engrossed by it, yet his strut seemed to +indicate that, besides military matters, social interests and the fair +sex occupied no small part of his thoughts. + +"Well, Michael Mitrich, sir?" he said, addressing one of the +battalion commanders who smilingly pressed forward (it was plain +that they both felt happy). "We had our hands full last night. +However, I think the regiment is not a bad one, eh?" + +The battalion commander perceived the jovial irony and laughed. + +"It would not be turned off the field even on the Tsaritsin Meadow." + +"What?" asked the commander. + +At that moment, on the road from the town on which signalers had +been posted, two men appeared on horse back. They were an +aide-decamp followed by a Cossack. + +The aide-de-camp was sent to confirm the order which had not been +clearly worded the day before, namely, that the commander in chief +wished to see the regiment just in the state in which it had been on +the march: in their greatcoats, and packs, and without any preparation +whatever. + +A member of the Hofkriegsrath from Vienna had come to Kutuzov the +day before with proposals and demands for him to join up with the army +of the Archduke Ferdinand and Mack, and Kutuzov, not considering +this junction advisable, meant, among other arguments in support of +his view, to show the Austrian general the wretched state in which the +troops arrived from Russia. With this object he intended to meet the +regiment; so the worse the condition it was in, the better pleased the +commander in chief would be. Though the aide-de-camp did not know +these circumstances, he nevertheless delivered the definite order that +the men should be in their greatcoats and in marching order, and +that the commander in chief would otherwise be dissatisfied. On +hearing this the regimental commander hung his head, silently shrugged +his shoulders, and spread out his arms with a choleric gesture. + +"A fine mess we've made of it!" he remarked. + +"There now! Didn't I tell you, Michael Mitrich, that if it was +said 'on the march' it meant in greatcoats?" said he reproachfully +to the battalion commander. "Oh, my God!" he added, stepping +resolutely forward. "Company commanders!" he shouted in a voice +accustomed to command. "Sergeants major!... How soon will he be here?" +he asked the aide-de-camp with a respectful politeness evidently +relating to the personage he was referring to. + +"In an hour's time, I should say." + +"Shall we have time to change clothes?" + +"I don't know, General...." + +The regimental commander, going up to the line himself, ordered +the soldiers to change into their greatcoats. The company commanders +ran off to their companies, the sergeants major began bustling (the +greatcoats were not in very good condition), and instantly the squares +that had up to then been in regular order and silent began to sway and +stretch and hum with voices. On all sides soldiers were running to and +fro, throwing up their knapsacks with a jerk of their shoulders and +pulling the straps over their heads, unstrapping their overcoats and +drawing the sleeves on with upraised arms. + +In half an hour all was again in order, only the squares had +become gray instead of black. The regimental commander walked with his +jerky steps to the front of the regiment and examined it from a +distance. + +"Whatever is this? This!" he shouted and stood still. "Commander +of the third company!" + +"Commander of the third company wanted by the general!... +commander to the general... third company to the commander." The words +passed along the lines and an adjutant ran to look for the missing +officer. + +When the eager but misrepeated words had reached their destination +in a cry of: "The general to the third company," the missing officer +appeared from behind his company and, though he was a middle-aged +man and not in the habit of running, trotted awkwardly stumbling on +his toes toward the general. The captain's face showed the +uneasiness of a schoolboy who is told to repeat a lesson he has not +learned. Spots appeared on his nose, the redness of which was +evidently due to intemperance, and his mouth twitched nervously. The +general looked the captain up and down as he came up panting, +slackening his pace as he approached. + +"You will soon be dressing your men in petticoats! What is this?" +shouted the regimental commander, thrusting forward his jaw and +pointing at a soldier in the ranks of the third company in a greatcoat +of bluish cloth, which contrasted with the others. "What have you been +after? The commander in chief is expected and you leave your place? +Eh? I'll teach you to dress the men in fancy coats for a parade.... +Eh...?" + +The commander of the company, with his eyes fixed on his superior, +pressed two fingers more and more rigidly to his cap, as if in this +pressure lay his only hope of salvation. + +"Well, why don't you speak? Whom have you got there dressed up as +a Hungarian?" said the commander with an austere gibe. + +"Your excellency..." + +"Well, your excellency, what? Your excellency! But what about your +excellency?... nobody knows." + +"Your excellency, it's the officer Dolokhov, who has been reduced to +the ranks," said the captain softly. + +"Well? Has he been degraded into a field marshal, or into a soldier? +If a soldier, he should be dressed in regulation uniform like the +others." + +"Your excellency, you gave him leave yourself, on the march." + +"Gave him leave? Leave? That's just like you young men," said the +regimental commander cooling down a little. "Leave indeed.... One says +a word to you and you... What?" he added with renewed irritation, "I +beg you to dress your men decently." + +And the commander, turning to look at the adjutant, directed his +jerky steps down the line. He was evidently pleased at his own display +of anger and walking up to the regiment wished to find a further +excuse for wrath. Having snapped at an officer for an unpolished +badge, at another because his line was not straight, he reached the +third company. + +"H-o-o-w are you standing? Where's your leg? Your leg?" shouted +the commander with a tone of suffering in his voice, while there +were still five men between him and Dolokhov with his bluish-gray +uniform. + +Dolokhov slowly straightened his bent knee, looking straight with +his clear, insolent eyes in the general's face. + +"Why a blue coat? Off with it... Sergeant major! Change his +coat... the ras..." he did not finish. + +"General, I must obey orders, but I am not bound to endure..." +Dolokhov hurriedly interrupted. + +"No talking in the ranks!... No talking, no talking!" + +"Not bound to endure insults," Dolokhov concluded in loud, ringing +tones. + +The eyes of the general and the soldier met. The general became +silent, angrily pulling down his tight scarf. + +"I request you to have the goodness to change your coat," he said as +he turned away. + +CHAPTER II + +"He's coming!" shouted the signaler at that moment. + +The regimental commander, flushing, ran to his horse, seized the +stirrup with trembling hands, threw his body across the saddle, +righted himself, drew his saber, and with a happy and resolute +countenance, opening his mouth awry, prepared to shout. The regiment +fluttered like a bird preening its plumage and became motionless. + +"Att-ention!" shouted the regimental commander in a soul-shaking +voice which expressed joy for himself, severity for the regiment, +and welcome for the approaching chief. + +Along the broad country road, edged on both sides by trees, came a +high, light blue Viennese caleche, slightly creaking on its springs +and drawn by six horses at a smart trot. Behind the caleche galloped +the suite and a convoy of Croats. Beside Kutuzov sat an Austrian +general, in a white uniform that looked strange among the Russian +black ones. The caleche stopped in front of the regiment. Kutuzov +and the Austrian general were talking in low voices and Kutuzov smiled +slightly as treading heavily he stepped down from the carriage just as +if those two thousand men breathlessly gazing at him and the +regimental commander did not exist. + +The word of command rang out, and again the regiment quivered, as +with a jingling sound it presented arms. Then amidst a dead silence +the feeble voice of the commander in chief was heard. The regiment +roared, "Health to your ex... len... len... lency!" and again all +became silent. At first Kutuzov stood still while the regiment +moved; then he and the general in white, accompanied by the suite, +walked between the ranks. + +From the way the regimental commander saluted the commander in chief +and devoured him with his eyes, drawing himself up obsequiously, and +from the way he walked through the ranks behind the generals, +bending forward and hardly able to restrain his jerky movements, and +from the way he darted forward at every word or gesture of the +commander in chief, it was evident that he performed his duty as a +subordinate with even greater zeal than his duty as a commander. +Thanks to the strictness and assiduity of its commander the +regiment, in comparison with others that had reached Braunau at the +same time, was in splendid condition. There were only 217 sick and +stragglers. Everything was in good order except the boots. + +Kutuzov walked through the ranks, sometimes stopping to say a few +friendly words to officers he had known in the Turkish war, +sometimes also to the soldiers. Looking at their boots he several +times shook his head sadly, pointing them out to the Austrian +general with an expression which seemed to say that he was not blaming +anyone, but could not help noticing what a bad state of things it was. +The regimental commander ran forward on each such occasion, fearing to +miss a single word of the commander in chief's regarding the regiment. +Behind Kutuzov, at a distance that allowed every softly spoken word to +be heard, followed some twenty men of his suite. These gentlemen +talked among themselves and sometimes laughed. Nearest of all to the +commander in chief walked a handsome adjutant. This was Prince +Bolkonski. Beside him was his comrade Nesvitski, a tall staff officer, +extremely stout, with a kindly, smiling, handsome face and moist eyes. +Nesvitski could hardly keep from laughter provoked by a swarthy hussar +officer who walked beside him. This hussar, with a grave face and +without a smile or a change in the expression of his fixed eyes, +watched the regimental commander's back and mimicked his every +movement. Each time the commander started and bent forward, the hussar +started and bent forward in exactly the same manner. Nesvitski laughed +and nudged the others to make them look at the wag. + +Kutuzov walked slowly and languidly past thousands of eyes which +were starting from their sockets to watch their chief. On reaching the +third company he suddenly stopped. His suite, not having expected +this, involuntarily came closer to him. + +"Ah, Timokhin!" said he, recognizing the red-nosed captain who had +been reprimanded on account of the blue greatcoat. + +One would have thought it impossible for a man to stretch himself +more than Timokhin had done when he was reprimanded by the +regimental commander, but now that the commander in chief addressed +him he drew himself up to such an extent that it seemed he could not +have sustained it had the commander in chief continued to look at him, +and so Kutuzov, who evidently understood his case and wished him +nothing but good, quickly turned away, a scarcely perceptible smile +flitting over his scarred and puffy face. + +"Another Ismail comrade," said he. "A brave officer! Are you +satisfied with him?" he asked the regimental commander. + +And the latter- unconscious that he was being reflected in the +hussar officer as in a looking glass- started, moved forward, and +answered: "Highly satisfied, your excellency!" + +"We all have our weaknesses," said Kutuzov smiling and walking +away from him. "He used to have a predilection for Bacchus." + +The regimental commander was afraid he might be blamed for this +and did not answer. The hussar at that moment noticed the face of +the red-nosed captain and his drawn-in stomach, and mimicked his +expression and pose with such exactitude that Nesvitski could not help +laughing. Kutuzov turned round. The officer evidently had complete +control of his face, and while Kutuzov was turning managed to make a +grimace and then assume a most serious, deferential, and innocent +expression. + +The third company was the last, and Kutuzov pondered, apparently +trying to recollect something. Prince Andrew stepped forward from +among the suite and said in French: + +"You told me to remind you of the officer Dolokhov, reduced to the +ranks in this regiment." + +"Where is Dolokhov?" asked Kutuzov. + +Dolokhov, who had already changed into a soldier's gray greatcoat, +did not wait to be called. The shapely figure of the fair-haired +soldier, with his clear blue eyes, stepped forward from the ranks, +went up to the commander in chief, and presented arms. + +"Have you a complaint to make?" Kutuzov asked with a slight frown. + +"This is Dolokhov," said Prince Andrew. + +"Ah!" said Kutuzov. "I hope this will be a lesson to you. Do your +duty. The Emperor is gracious, and I shan't forget you if you +deserve well." + +The clear blue eyes looked at the commander in chief just as +boldly as they had looked at the regimental commander, seeming by +their expression to tear open the veil of convention that separates +a commander in chief so widely from a private. + +"One thing I ask of your excellency," Dolokhov said in his firm, +ringing, deliberate voice. "I ask an opportunity to atone for my fault +and prove my devotion to His Majesty the Emperor and to Russia!" + +Kutuzov turned away. The same smile of the eyes with which he had +turned from Captain Timokhin again flitted over his face. He turned +away with a grimace as if to say that everything Dolokhov had said +to him and everything he could say had long been known to him, that he +was weary of it and it was not at all what he wanted. He turned away +and went to the carriage. + +The regiment broke up into companies, which went to their +appointed quarters near Braunau, where they hoped to receive boots and +clothes and to rest after their hard marches. + +"You won't bear me a grudge, Prokhor Ignatych?" said the +regimental commander, overtaking the third company on its way to its + +quarters and riding up to Captain Timokhin who was walking in front. +(The regimental commander's face now that the inspection was happily +over beamed with irrepressible delight.) "It's in the Emperor's +service... it can't be helped... one is sometimes a bit hasty on +parade... I am the first to apologize, you know me!... He was very +pleased!" And he held out his hand to the captain. + +"Don't mention it, General, as if I'd be so bold!" replied the +captain, his nose growing redder as he gave a smile which showed where +two front teeth were missing that had been knocked out by the butt end +of a gun at Ismail. + +"And tell Mr. Dolokhov that I won't forget him- he may be quite +easy. And tell me, please- I've been meaning to ask- how is to ask- +how is he behaving himself, and in general..." + +"As far as the service goes he is quite punctilious, your +excellency; but his character..." said Timokhin. + +"And what about his character?" asked the regimental commander. + +"It's different on different days," answered the captain. "One day +he is sensible, well educated, and good-natured, and the next he's a +wild beast.... In Poland, if you please, he nearly killed a Jew." + +"Oh, well, well!" remarked the regimental commander. "Still, one +must have pity on a young man in misfortune. You know he has important +connections... Well, then, you just..." + +"I will, your excellency," said Timokhin, showing by his smile +that he understood his commander's wish. + +"Well, of course, of course!" + +The regimental commander sought out Dolokhov in the ranks and, +reining in his horse, said to him: + +"After the next affair... epaulettes." + +Dolokhov looked round but did not say anything, nor did the +mocking smile on his lips change. + +"Well, that's all right," continued the regimental commander. "A cup +of vodka for the men from me," he added so that the soldiers could +hear. "I thank you all! God be praised!" and he rode past that company +and overtook the next one. + +"Well, he's really a good fellow, one can serve under him," said +Timokhin to the subaltern beside him. + +"In a word, a hearty one..." said the subaltern, laughing (the +regimental commander was nicknamed King of Hearts). + +The cheerful mood of their officers after the inspection infected +the soldiers. The company marched on gaily. The soldiers' voices could +be heard on every side. + +"And they said Kutuzov was blind of one eye?" + +"And so he is! Quite blind!" + +"No, friend, he is sharper-eyed than you are. Boots and leg bands... +he noticed everything..." + +"When he looked at my feet, friend... well, thinks I..." + +"And that other one with him, the Austrian, looked as if he were +smeared with chalk- as white as flour! I suppose they polish him up as +they do the guns." + +"I say, Fedeshon!... Did he say when the battles are to begin? You +were near him. Everybody said that Buonaparte himself was at Braunau." + +"Buonaparte himself!... Just listen to the fool, what he doesn't +know! The Prussians are up in arms now. The Austrians, you see, are +putting them down. When they've been put down, the war with Buonaparte +will begin. And he says Buonaparte is in Braunau! Shows you're a fool. +You'd better listen more carefully!" + +"What devils these quartermasters are! See, the fifth company is +turning into the village already... they will have their buckwheat +cooked before we reach our quarters." + +"Give me a biscuit, you devil!" + +"And did you give me tobacco yesterday? That's just it, friend! +Ah, well, never mind, here you are." + +"They might call a halt here or we'll have to do another four +miles without eating." + +"Wasn't it fine when those Germans gave us lifts! You just sit still +and are drawn along." + +"And here, friend, the people are quite beggarly. There they all +seemed to be Poles- all under the Russian crown- but here they're +all regular Germans." + +"Singers to the front " came the captain's order. + +And from the different ranks some twenty men ran to the front. A +drummer, their leader, turned round facing the singers, and +flourishing his arm, began a long-drawn-out soldiers' song, commencing +with the words: "Morning dawned, the sun was rising," and +concluding: "On then, brothers, on to glory, led by Father +Kamenski." This song had been composed in the Turkish campaign and now +being sung in Austria, the only change being that the words "Father +Kamenski" were replaced by "Father Kutuzov." + +Having jerked out these last words as soldiers do and waved his arms +as if flinging something to the ground, the drummer- a lean, +handsome soldier of forty- looked sternly at the singers and screwed +up his eyes. Then having satisfied himself that all eyes were fixed on +him, he raised both arms as if carefully lifting some invisible but +precious object above his head and, holding it there for some seconds, +suddenly flung it down and began: + +"Oh, my bower, oh, my bower...!" + +"Oh, my bower new...!" chimed in twenty voices, and the castanet +player, in spite of the burden of his equipment, rushed out to the +front and, walking backwards before the company, jerked his +shoulders and flourished his castanets as if threatening someone. +The soldiers, swinging their arms and keeping time spontaneously, +marched with long steps. Behind the company the sound of wheels, the +creaking of springs, and the tramp of horses' hoofs were heard. +Kutuzov and his suite were returning to the town. The commander in +chief made a sign that the men should continue to march at ease, and +he and all his suite showed pleasure at the sound of the singing and +the sight of the dancing soldier and the gay and smartly marching men. +In the second file from the right flank, beside which the carriage +passed the company, a blue-eyed soldier involuntarily attracted +notice. It was Dolokhov marching with particular grace and boldness in +time to the song and looking at those driving past as if he pitied all +who were not at that moment marching with the company. The hussar +cornet of Kutuzov's suite who had mimicked the regimental commander, +fell back from the carriage and rode up to Dolokhov. + +Hussar cornet Zherkov had at one time, in Petersburg, belonged to +the wild set led by Dolokhov. Zherkov had met Dolokhov abroad as a +private and had not seen fit to recognize him. But now that Kutuzov +had spoken to the gentleman ranker, he addressed him with the +cordiality of an old friend. + +"My dear fellow, how are you?" said he through the singing, making +his horse keep pace with the company. + +"How am I?" Dolokhov answered coldly. "I am as you see." + +The lively song gave a special flavor to the tone of free and easy +gaiety with which Zherkov spoke, and to the intentional coldness of +Dolokhov's reply. + +"And how do you get on with the officers?" inquired Zherkov. + +"All right. They are good fellows. And how have you wriggled onto +the staff?" + +"I was attached; I'm on duty." + +Both were silent. + +"She let the hawk fly upward from her wide right sleeve," went the +song, arousing an involuntary sensation of courage and cheerfulness. +Their conversation would probably have been different but for the +effect of that song. + +"Is it true that Austrians have been beaten?" asked Dolokhov. + +"The devil only knows! They say so." + +"I'm glad," answered Dolokhov briefly and clearly, as the song +demanded. + +"I say, come round some evening and we'll have a game of faro!" said +Zherkov. + +"Why, have you too much money?" + +"Do come." + +"I can't. I've sworn not to. I won't drink and won't play till I get +reinstated." + +"Well, that's only till the first engagement." + +"We shall see." + +They were again silent. + +"Come if you need anything. One can at least be of use on the +staff..." + +Dolokhov smiled. "Don't trouble. If I want anything, I won't beg- +I'll take it!" + +"Well, never mind; I only..." + +"And I only..." + +"Good-by." + +"Good health..." + +_1 "It's a long, long way.<br> +To my native land..." + +Zherkov touched his horse with the spurs; it pranced excitedly +from foot to foot uncertain with which to start, then settled down, +galloped past the company, and overtook the carriage, still keeping +time to the song. + +CHAPTER III + +On returning from the review, Kutuzov took the Austrian general into +his private room and, calling his adjutant, asked for some papers +relating to the condition of the troops on their arrival, and the +letters that had come from the Archduke Ferdinand, who was in +command of the advanced army. Prince Andrew Bolkonski came into the +room with the required papers. Kutuzov and the Austrian member of +the Hofkriegsrath were sitting at the table on which a plan was spread +out. + +"Ah!..." said Kutuzov glancing at Bolkonski as if by this +exclamation he was asking the adjutant to wait, and he went on with +the conversation in French. + +"All I can say, General," said he with a pleasant elegance of +expression and intonation that obliged one to listen to each +deliberately spoken word. It was evident that Kutuzov himself listened +with pleasure to his own voice. "All I can say, General, is that if +the matter depended on my personal wishes, the will of His Majesty the +Emperor Francis would have been fulfilled long ago. I should long +ago have joined the archduke. And believe me on my honour that to me +personally it would be a pleasure to hand over the supreme command +of the army into the hands of a better informed and more skillful +general- of whom Austria has so many- and to lay down all this heavy +responsibility. But circumstances are sometimes too strong for us, +General." + +And Kutuzov smiled in a way that seemed to say, "You are quite at +liberty not to believe me and I don't even care whether you do or not, +but you have no grounds for telling me so. And that is the whole +point." + +The Austrian general looked dissatisfied, but had no option but to +reply in the same tone. + +"On the contrary," he said, in a querulous and angry tone that +contrasted with his flattering words, "on the contrary, your +excellency's participation in the common action is highly valued by +His Majesty; but we think the present delay is depriving the +splendid Russian troops and their commander of the laurels they have +been accustomed to win in their battles," he concluded his evidently +prearranged sentence. + +Kutuzov bowed with the same smile. + +"But that is my conviction, and judging by the last letter with +which His Highness the Archduke Ferdinand has honored me, I imagine +that the Austrian troops, under the direction of so skillful a +leader as General Mack, have by now already gained a decisive +victory and no longer need our aid," said Kutuzov. + +The general frowned. Though there was no definite news of an +Austrian defeat, there were many circumstances confirming the +unfavorable rumors that were afloat, and so Kutuzov's suggestion of an +Austrian victory sounded much like irony. But Kutuzov went on +blandly smiling with the same expression, which seemed to say that +he had a right to suppose so. And, in fact, the last letter he had +received from Mack's army informed him of a victory and stated +strategically the position of the army was very favorable. + +"Give me that letter," said Kutuzov turning to Prince Andrew. +"Please have a look at it"- and Kutuzov with an ironical smile about +the corners of his mouth read to the Austrian general the following +passage, in German, from the Archduke Ferdinand's letter: + +We have fully concentrated forces of nearly seventy thousand men +with which to attack and defeat the enemy should he cross the Lech. +Also, as we are masters of Ulm, we cannot be deprived of the advantage +of commanding both sides of the Danube, so that should the enemy not +cross the Lech, we can cross the Danube, throw ourselves on his line +of communications, recross the river lower down, and frustrate his +intention should he try to direct his whole force against our faithful +ally. We shall therefore confidently await the moment when the +Imperial Russian army will be fully equipped, and shall then, in +conjunction with it, easily find a way to prepare for the enemy the +fate he deserves. + +Kutuzov sighed deeply on finishing this paragraph and looked at +the member of the Hofkriegsrath mildly and attentively. + +"But you know the wise maxim your excellency, advising one to expect +the worst," said the Austrian general, evidently wishing to have +done with jests and to come to business. He involuntarily looked round +at the aide-de-camp. + +"Excuse me, General," interrupted Kutuzov, also turning to Prince +Andrew. "Look here, my dear fellow, get from Kozlovski all the reports +from our scouts. Here are two letters from Count Nostitz and here is +one from His Highness the Archduke Ferdinand and here are these," he +said, handing him several papers, "make a neat memorandum in French +out of all this, showing all the news we have had of the movements +of the Austrian army, and then give it to his excellency." + +Prince Andrew bowed his head in token of having understood from +the first not only what had been said but also what Kutuzov would have +liked to tell him. He gathered up the papers and with a bow to both, +stepped softly over the carpet and went out into the waiting room. + +Though not much time had passed since Prince Andrew had left Russia, +he had changed greatly during that period. In the expression of his +face, in his movements, in his walk, scarcely a trace was left of +his former affected languor and indolence. He now looked like a man +who has time to think of the impression he makes on others, but is +occupied with agreeable and interesting work. His face expressed +more satisfaction with himself and those around him, his smile and +glance were brighter and more attractive. + +Kutuzov, whom he had overtaken in Poland, had received him very +kindly, promised not to forget him, distinguished him above the +other adjutants, and had taken him to Vienna and given him the more +serious commissions. From Vienna Kutuzov wrote to his old comrade, +Prince Andrew's father. + +Your son bids fair to become an officer distinguished by his +industry, firmness, and expedition. I consider myself fortunate to +have such a subordinate by me. + +On Kutuzov's staff, among his fellow officers and in the army +generally, Prince Andrew had, as he had had in Petersburg society, two +quite opposite reputations. Some, a minority, acknowledged him to be +different from themselves and from everyone else, expected great +things of him, listened to him, admired, and imitated him, and with +them Prince Andrew was natural and pleasant. Others, the majority, +disliked him and considered him conceited, cold, and disagreeable. But +among these people Prince Andrew knew how to take his stand so that +they respected and even feared him. + +Coming out of Kutuzov's room into the waiting room with the papers +in his hand Prince Andrew came up to his comrade, the aide-de-camp +on duty, Kozlovski, who was sitting at the window with a book. + +"Well, Prince?" asked Kozlovski. + +"I am ordered to write a memorandum explaining why we are not +advancing." + +"And why is it?" + +Prince Andrew shrugged his shoulders. + +"Any news from Mack?" + +"No." + +"If it were true that he has been beaten, news would have come." + +"Probably," said Prince Andrew moving toward the outer door. + +But at that instant a tall Austrian general in a greatcoat, with the +order of Maria Theresa on his neck and a black bandage round his head, +who had evidently just arrived, entered quickly, slamming the door. +Prince Andrew stopped short. + +"Commander in Chief Kutuzov?" said the newly arrived general +speaking quickly with a harsh German accent, looking to both sides and +advancing straight toward the inner door. + +"The commander in chief is engaged," said Kozlovski, going hurriedly +up to the unknown general and blocking his way to the door. "Whom +shall I announce?" + +The unknown general looked disdainfully down at Kozlovski, who was +rather short, as if surprised that anyone should not know him. + +"The commander in chief is engaged," repeated Kozlovski calmly. + +The general's face clouded, his lips quivered and trembled. He +took out a notebook, hurriedly scribbled something in pencil, tore out +the leaf, gave it to Kozlovski, stepped quickly to the window, and +threw himself into a chair, gazing at those in the room as if +asking, "Why do they look at me?" Then he lifted his head, stretched +his neck as if he intended to say something, but immediately, with +affected indifference, began to hum to himself, producing a queer +sound which immediately broke off. The door of the private room opened +and Kutuzov appeared in the doorway. The general with the bandaged +head bent forward as though running away from some danger, and, making +long, quick strides with his thin legs, went up to Kutuzov. + +"Vous voyez le malheureux Mack," he uttered in a broken voice. + +Kutuzov's face as he stood in the open doorway remained perfectly +immobile for a few moments. Then wrinkles ran over his face like a +wave and his forehead became smooth again, he bowed his head +respectfully, closed his eyes, silently let Mack enter his room before +him, and closed the door himself behind him. + +The report which had been circulated that the Austrians had been +beaten and that the whole army had surrendered at Ulm proved to be +correct. Within half an hour adjutants had been sent in various +directions with orders which showed that the Russian troops, who had +hitherto been inactive, would also soon have to meet the enemy. + +Prince Andrew was one of those rare staff officers whose chief +interest lay in the general progress of the war. When he saw Mack +and heard the details of his disaster he understood that half the +campaign was lost, understood all the difficulties of the Russian +army's position, and vividly imagined what awaited it and the part +he would have to play. Involuntarily he felt a joyful agitation at the +thought of the humiliation of arrogant Austria and that in a week's +time he might, perhaps, see and take part in the first Russian +encounter with the French since Suvorov met them. He feared that +Bonaparte's genius might outweigh all the courage of the Russian +troops, and at the same time could not admit the idea of his hero +being disgraced. + +Excited and irritated by these thoughts Prince Andrew went toward +his room to write to his father, to whom he wrote every day. In the +corridor he met Nesvitski, with whom he shared a room, and the wag +Zherkov; they were as usual laughing. + +"Why are you so glum?" asked Nesvitski noticing Prince Andrew's pale +face and glittering eyes. + +"There's nothing to be gay about," answered Bolkonski. + +Just as Prince Andrew met Nesvitski and Zherkov, there came toward +them from the other end of the corridor, Strauch, an Austrian +general who on Kutuzov's staff in charge of the provisioning of the +Russian army, and the member of the Hofkriegsrath who had arrived +the previous evening. There was room enough in the wide corridor for +the generals to pass the three officers quite easily, but Zherkov, +pushing Nesvitski aside with his arm, said in a breathless voice, + +"They're coming!... they're coming!... Stand aside, make way, please +make way!" + +The generals were passing by, looking as if they wished to avoid +embarrassing attentions. On the face of the wag Zherkov there suddenly +appeared a stupid smile of glee which he seemed unable to suppress. + +"Your excellency," said he in German, stepping forward and +addressing the Austrian general, "I have the honor to congratulate +you." + +He bowed his head and scraped first with one foot and then with +the other, awkwardly, like a child at a dancing lesson. + +The member of the Hofkriegsrath looked at him severely but, seeing +the seriousness of his stupid smile, could not but give him a moment's +attention. He screwed up his eyes showing that he was listening. + +"I have the honor to congratulate you. General Mack has arrived, +quite well, only a little bruised just here," he added, pointing +with a beaming smile to his head. + +The general frowned, turned away, and went on. + +"Gott, wie naiv!"~^ said he angrily, after he had gone a few steps. + +^~ "Good God, what simplicity!" + +Nesvitski with a laugh threw his arms round Prince Andrew, but +Bolkonski, turning still paler, pushed him away with an angry look and +turned to Zherkov. The nervous irritation aroused by the appearance of +Mack, the news of his defeat, and the thought of what lay before the +Russian army found vent in anger at Zherkov's untimely jest. + +"If you, sir, choose to make a buffoon of yourself," he said +sharply, with a slight trembling of the lower jaw, "I can't prevent +your doing so; but I warn you that if you dare to play the fool in +my presence, I will teach you to behave yourself." + +Nesvitski and Zherkov were so surprised by this outburst that they +gazed at Bolkonski silently with wide-open eyes. + +"What's the matter? I only congratulated them," said Zherkov. + +"I am not jesting with you; please be silent!" cried Bolkonski, +and taking Nesvitski's arm he left Zherkov, who did not know what to +say. + +"Come, what's the matter, old fellow?" said Nesvitski trying to +soothe him. + +"What's the matter?" exclaimed Prince Andrew standing still in his +excitement. "Don't you understand that either we are officers +serving our Tsar and our country, rejoicing in the successes and +grieving at the misfortunes of our common cause, or we are merely +lackeys who care nothing for their master's business. Quarante mille +hommes massacres et l'armee de nos allies detruite, et vous trouvez la +le mot pour rire,"~^ he said, as if strengthening his views by this +French sentence. "C' est bien pour un garcon de rein comme cet +individu dont vous avez fait un ami, mais pas pour vous, pas pour +vous.~^ Only a hobbledehoy could amuse himself in this way," he +added in Russian- but pronouncing the word with a French accent- +having noticed that Zherkov could still hear him. + +^~ "Forty thousand men massacred and the army of our allies destroyed, +and you find that a cause for jesting!" + +^~ "It is all very well for that good-for-nothing fellow of whom +you have made a friend, but not for you, not for you." + +He waited a moment to see whether the cornet would answer, but he +turned and went out of the corridor. + +CHAPTER IV + +The Pavlograd Hussars were stationed two miles from Braunau. The +squadron in which Nicholas Rostov served as a cadet was quartered in +the German village of Salzeneck. The best quarters in the village were +assigned to cavalry-captain Denisov, the squadron commander, known +throughout the whole cavalry division as Vaska Denisov. Cadet +Rostov, ever since he had overtaken the regiment in Poland, had +lived with the squadron commander. + +On October 11, the day when all was astir at headquarters over the +news of Mack's defeat, the camp life of the officers of this +squadron was proceeding as usual. Denisov, who had been losing at +cards all night, had not yet come home when Rostov rode back early +in the morning from a foraging expedition. Rostov in his cadet +uniform, with a jerk to his horse, rode up to the porch, swung his leg +over the saddle with a supple youthful movement, stood for a moment in +the stirrup as if loathe to part from his horse, and at last sprang +down and called to his orderly. + +"Ah, Bondarenko, dear friend!" said he to the hussar who rushed up +headlong to the horse. "Walk him up and down, my dear fellow," he +continued, with that gay brotherly cordiality which goodhearted +young people show to everyone when they are happy. + +"Yes, your excellency," answered the Ukrainian gaily, tossing his +head. + +"Mind, walk him up and down well!" + +Another hussar also rushed toward the horse, but Bondarenko had +already thrown the reins of the snaffle bridle over the horse's +head. It was evident that the cadet was liberal with his tips and that +it paid to serve him. Rostov patted the horse's neck and then his +flank, and lingered for a moment. + +"Splendid! What a horse he will be!" he thought with a smile, and +holding up his saber, his spurs jingling, he ran up the steps of the +porch. His landlord, who in a waistcoat and a pointed cap, pitchfork +in hand, was clearing manure from the cowhouse, looked out, and his +face immediately brightened on seeing Rostov. "Schon gut Morgen! Schon +gut Morgen!"~^ he said winking with a merry smile, evidently pleased to +greet the young man. + +^~ "A very good morning! A very good morning!" + +"Schon fleissig?"~^ said Rostov with the same gay brotherly smile +which did not leave his eager face. "Hoch Oestreicher! Hoch Russen! +Kaiser Alexander hoch!"~^ said he, quoting words often repeated by +the German landlord. + +^~ "Busy already?" + +^~ "Hurrah for the Austrians! Hurrah for the Russians! Hurrah +for Emperor Alexander!" + +The German laughed, came out of the cowshed, pulled off his cap, and +waving it above his head cried: + +"Und die ganze Welt hoch!"~^ + +^~ "And hurrah for the whole world!" + +Rostov waved his cap above his head like the German and ctied +laughing, "Und vivat die ganze Welt!" Though neither the German +cleaning his cowshed nor Rostov back with his platoon from foraging +for hay had any reason for rejoicing, they looked at each other with +joyful delight and brotherly love, wagged their heads in token of +their mutual affection, and parted smiling, the German returning to +his cowshed and Rostov going to the cottage he occupied with Denisov. + +"What about your master?" he asked Lavrushka, Denisov's orderly, +whom all the regiment knew for a rogue. + +"Hasn't been in since the evening. Must have been losing," +answered Lavrushka. "I know by now, if he wins he comes back early +to brag about it, but if he stays out till morning it means he's +lost and will come back in a rage. Will you have coffee?" + +"Yes, bring some." + +Ten minutes later Lavrushka brought the coffee. "He's coming!" +said he. "Now for trouble!" Rostov looked out of the window and saw +Denisov coming home. Denisov was a small man with a red face, +sparkling black eyes, and black tousled mustache and hair. He wore +an unfastened cloak, wide breeches hanging down in creases, and a +crumpled shako on the back of his head. He came up to the porch +gloomily, hanging his head. + +"Lavwuska!" he shouted loudly and angrily, "take it off, blockhead!" + +"Well, I am taking it off," replied Lavrushka's voice. + +"Ah, you're up already," said Denisov, entering the room. + +"Long ago," answered Rostov, "I have already been for the hay, and +have seen Fraulein Mathilde." + +"Weally! And I've been losing, bwother. I lost yesterday like a +damned fool!" cried Denisov, not pronouncing his r's. "Such ill +luck! Such ill luck. As soon as you left, it began and went on. +Hullo there! Tea!" + +Puckering up his face though smiling, and showing his short strong +teeth, he began with stubby fingers of both hands to ruffle up his +thick tangled black hair. + +"And what devil made me go to that wat?" (an officer nicknamed +"the rat") he said, rubbing his forehead and whole face with both +hands. "Just fancy, he didn't let me win a single cahd, not one cahd." + +He took the lighted pipe that was offered to him, gripped it in +his fist, and tapped it on the floor, making the sparks fly, while +he continued to shout. + +"He lets one win the singles and collahs it as soon as one doubles +it; gives the singles and snatches the doubles!" + +He scattered the burning tobacco, smashed the pipe, and threw it +away. Then he remained silent for a while, and all at once looked +cheerfully with his glittering, black eyes at Rostov. + +"If at least we had some women here; but there's nothing foh one +to do but dwink. If we could only get to fighting soon. Hullo, who's +there?" he said, turning to the door as he heard a tread of heavy +boots and the clinking of spurs that came to a stop, and a +respectful cough. + +"The squadron quartermaster!" said Lavrushka. + +Denisov's face puckered still more. + +"Wetched!" he muttered, throwing down a purse with some gold in +it. "Wostov, deah fellow, just see how much there is left and shove +the purse undah the pillow," he said, and went out to the +quartermaster. + +Rostov took the money and, mechanically arranging the old and new +coins in separate piles, began counting them. + +"Ah! Telyanin! How d'ye do? They plucked me last night," came +Denisov's voice from the next room. + +"Where? At Bykov's, at the rat's... I knew it," replied a piping +voice, and Lieutenant Telyanin, a small officer of the same +squadron, entered the room. + +Rostov thrust the purse under the pillow and shook the damp little +hand which was offered him. Telyanin for some reason had been +transferred from the Guards just before this campaign. He behaved very +well in the regiment but was not liked; Rostov especially detested him +and was unable to overcome or conceal his groundless antipathy to +the man. + +"Well, young cavalryman, how is my Rook behaving?" he asked. (Rook +was a young horse Telyanin had sold to Rostov.) + +The lieutenant never looked the man he was speaking to straight in +the face; his eyes continually wandered from one object to another. + +"I saw you riding this morning..." he added. + +"Oh, he's all right, a good horse," answered Rostov, though the +horse for which he had paid seven hundred rubbles was not worth half +that sum. "He's begun to go a little lame on the left foreleg," he +added. + +"The hoof's cracked! That's nothing. I'll teach you what to do and +show you what kind of rivet to use." + +"Yes, please do," said Rostov. + +"I'll show you, I'll show you! It's not a secret. And it's a horse +you'll thank me for." + +"Then I'll have it brought round," said Rostov wishing to avoid +Telyanin, and he went out to give the order. + +In the passage Denisov, with a pipe, was squatting on the +threshold facing the quartermaster who was reporting to him. On seeing +Rostov, Denisov screwed up his face and pointing over his shoulder +with his thumb to the room where Telyanin was sitting, he frowned +and gave a shudder of disgust. + +"Ugh! I don't like that fellow"' he said, regardless of the +quartermaster's presence. + +Rostov shrugged his shoulders as much as to say: "Nor do I, but +what's one to do?" and, having given his order, he returned to +Telyanin. + +Telyanin was sitting in the same indolent pose in which Rostov had +left him, rubbing his small white hands. + +"Well there certainly are disgusting people," thought Rostov as he +entered. + +"Have you told them to bring the horse?" asked Telyanin, getting +up and looking carelessly about him. + +"I have." + +"Let us go ourselves. I only came round to ask Denisov about +yesterday's order. Have you got it, Denisov?" + +"Not yet. But where are you off to?" + +"I want to teach this young man how to shoe a horse," said Telyanin. + +They went through the porch and into the stable. The lieutenant +explained how to rivet the hoof and went away to his own quarters. + +When Rostov went back there was a bottle of vodka and a sausage on +the table. Denisov was sitting there scratching with his pen on a +sheet of paper. He looked gloomily in Rostov's face and said: "I am +witing to her." + +He leaned his elbows on the table with his pen in his hand and, +evidently glad of a chance to say quicker in words what he wanted to +write, told Rostov the contents of his letter. + +"You see, my fwiend," he said, "we sleep when we don't love. We +are childwen of the dust... but one falls in love and one is a God, +one is pua' as on the first day of cweation... Who's that now? Send +him to the devil, I'm busy!" he shouted to Lavrushka, who went up to +him not in the least abashed. + +"Who should it be? You yourself told him to come. It's the +quartermaster for the money." + +Denisov frowned and was about to shout some reply but stopped. + +"Wetched business," he muttered to himself. "How much is left in the +puhse?" he asked, turning to Rostov. + +"Seven new and three old imperials." + +"Oh, it's wetched! Well, what are you standing there for, you +sca'cwow? Call the quahtehmasteh," he shouted to Lavrushka. + +"Please, Denisov, let me lend you some: I have some, you know," said +Rostov, blushing. + +"Don't like bowwowing from my own fellows, I don't," growled +Denisov. + +"But if you won't accept money from me like a comrade, you will +offend me. Really I have some," Rostov repeated. + +"No, I tell you." + +And Denisov went to the bed to get the purse from under the pillow. + +"Where have you put it, Wostov?" + +"Under the lower pillow." + +"It's not there." + +Denisov threw both pillows on the floor. The purse was not there. + +"That's a miwacle." + +"Wait, haven't you dropped it?" said Rostov, picking up the +pillows one at a time and shaking them. + +He pulled off the quilt and shook it. The purse was not there. + +"Dear me, can I have forgotten? No, I remember thinking that you +kept it under your head like a treasure," said Rostov. "I put it +just here. Where is it?" he asked, turning to Lavrushka. + +"I haven't been in the room. It must be where you put it." + +"But it isn't?..." + +"You're always like that; you thwow a thing down anywhere and forget +it. Feel in your pockets." + +"No, if I hadn't thought of it being a treasure," said Rostov, +"but I remember putting it there." + +Lavrushka turned all the bedding over, looked under the bed and +under the table, searched everywhere, and stood still in the middle of +the room. Denisov silently watched Lavrushka's movements, and when the +latter threw up his arms in surprise saying it was nowhere to be found +Denisov glanced at Rostov. + +"Wostov, you've not been playing schoolboy twicks..." + +Rostov felt Denisov's gaze fixed on him, raised his eyes, and +instantly dropped them again. All the blood which had seemed congested +somewhere below his throat rushed to his face and eyes. He could not +draw breath. + +"And there hasn't been anyone in the room except the lieutenant +and yourselves. It must be here somewhere," said Lavrushka. + +"Now then, you devil's puppet, look alive and hunt for it!" +shouted Denisov, suddenly, turning purple and rushing at the man +with a threatening gesture. "If the purse isn't found I'll flog you, +I'll flog you all." + +Rostov, his eyes avoiding Denisov, began buttoning his coat, buckled +on his saber, and put on his cap. + +"I must have that purse, I tell you," shouted Denisov, shaking his +orderly by the shoulders and knocking him against the wall. + +"Denisov, let him alone, I know who has taken it," said Rostov, +going toward the door without raising his eyes. Denisov paused, +thought a moment, and, evidently understanding what Rostov hinted +at, seized his arm. + +"Nonsense!" he cried, and the veins on his forehead and neck stood +out like cords. "You are mad, I tell you. I won't allow it. The +purse is here! I'll flay this scoundwel alive, and it will be found." + +"I know who has taken it," repeated Rostov in an unsteady voice, and +went to the door. + +"And I tell you, don't you dahe to do it!" shouted Denisov, +rushing at the cadet to restrain him. + +But Rostov pulled away his arm and, with as much anger as though +Denisov were his worst enemy, firmly fixed his eyes directly on his +face. + +"Do you understand what you're saying?" he said in a trembling +voice. "There was no one else in the room except myself. So that if it +is not so, then..." + +He could not finish, and ran out of the room. + +"Ah, may the devil take you and evewybody," were the last words +Rostov heard. + +Rostov went to Telyanin's quarters. + +"The master is not in, he's gone to headquarters," said Telyanin's +orderly. "Has something happened?" he added, surprised at the +cadet's troubled face. + +"No, nothing." + +"You've only just missed him," said the orderly. + +The headquarters were situated two miles away from Salzeneck, and +Rostov, without returning home, took a horse and rode there. There was +an inn in the village which the officers frequented. Rostov rode up to +it and saw Telyanin's horse at the porch. + +In the second room of the inn the lieutenant was sitting over a dish +of sausages and a bottle of wine. + +"Ah, you've come here too, young man!" he said, smiling and +raising his eyebrows. + +"Yes," said Rostov as if it cost him a great deal to utter the word; +and he sat down at the nearest table. + +Both were silent. There were two Germans and a Russian officer in +the room. No one spoke and the only sounds heard were the clatter of +knives and the munching of the lieutenant. + +When Telyanin had finished his lunch he took out of his pocket a +double purse and, drawing its rings aside with his small, white, +turned-up fingers, drew out a gold imperial, and lifting his +eyebrows gave it to the waiter. + +"Please be quick," he said. + +The coin was a new one. Rostov rose and went up to Telyanin. + +"Allow me to look at your purse," he said in a low, almost +inaudible, voice. + +With shifting eyes but eyebrows still raised, Telyanin handed him +the purse. + +"Yes, it's a nice purse. Yes, yes," he said, growing suddenly +pale, and added, "Look at it, young man." + +Rostov took the purse in his hand, examined it and the money in +it, and looked at Telyanin. The lieutenant was looking about in his +usual way and suddenly seemed to grow very merry. + +"If we get to Vienna I'll get rid of it there but in these +wretched little towns there's nowhere to spend it," said he. "Well, +let me have it, young man, I'm going." + +Rostov did not speak. + +"And you? Are you going to have lunch too? They feed you quite +decently here," continued Telyanin. "Now then, let me have it." + +He stretched out his hand to take hold of the purse. Rostov let go +of it. Telyanin took the purse and began carelessly slipping it into +the pocket of his riding breeches, with his eyebrows lifted and his +mouth slightly open, as if to say, "Yes, yes, I am putting my purse in +my pocket and that's quite simple and is no else's business." + +"Well, young man?" he said with a sigh, and from under his lifted +brows he glanced into Rostov's eyes. + +Some flash as of an electric spark shot from Telyanin's eyes to +Rostov's and back, and back again and again in an instant. + +"Come here," said Rostov, catching hold of Telyanin's arm and almost +dragging him to the window. "That money is Denisov's; you took +it..." he whispered just above Telyanin's ear. + +"What? What? How dare you? What?" said Telyanin. + +But these words came like a piteous, despairing cry and an +entreaty for pardon. As soon as Rostov heard them, an enormous load of +doubt fell from him. He was glad, and at the same instant began to +pity the miserable man who stood before him, but the task he had begun +had to be completed. + +"Heaven only knows what the people here may imagine," muttered +Telyanin, taking up his cap and moving toward a small empty room. +"We must have an explanation..." + +"I know it and shall prove it," said Rostov. + +"I..." + +Every muscle of Telyanin's pale, terrified face began to quiver, his +eyes still shifted from side to side but with a downward look not +rising to Rostov's face, and his sobs were audible. + +"Count!... Don't ruin a young fellow... here is this wretched money, +take it..." He threw it on the table. "I have an old father and +mother!..." + +Rostov took the money, avoiding Telyanin's eyes, and went out of the +room without a word. But at the door he stopped and then retraced +his steps. "O God," he said with tears in his eyes, "how could you +do it?" + +"Count..." said Telyanin drawing nearer to him. + +"Don't touch me," said Rostov, drawing back. "If you need it, take +the money," and he threw the purse to him and ran out of the inn. + +CHAPTER V + +That same evening there was an animated discussion among the +squadron's officers in Denisov's quarters. + +"And I tell you, Rostov, that you must apologize to the colonel!" +said a tall, grizzly-haired staff captain, with enormous mustaches and +many wrinkles on his large features, to Rostov who was crimson with +excitement. + +The staff captain, Kirsten, had twice been reduced to the ranks +for affairs of honor and had twice regained his commission. + +"I will allow no one to call me a liar!" cried Rostov. "He told me I +lied, and I told him he lied. And there it rests. He may keep me on +duty every day, or may place me under arrest, but no one can make me +apologize, because if he, as commander of this regiment, thinks it +beneath his dignity to give me satisfaction, then..." + +"You just wait a moment, my dear fellow, and listen," interrupted +the staff captain in his deep bass, calmly stroking his long mustache. +"You tell the colonel in the presence of other officers that an +officer has stolen..." + +"I'm not to blame that the conversation began in the presence of +other officers. Perhaps I ought not to have spoken before them, but +I am not a diplomatist. That's why I joined the hussars, thinking that +here one would not need finesse; and he tells me that I am lying- so +let him give me satisfaction..." + +"That's all right. No one thinks you a coward, but that's not the +point. Ask Denisov whether it is not out of the question for a cadet +to demand satisfaction of his regimental commander?" + +Denisov sat gloomily biting his mustache and listening to the +conversation, evidently with no wish to take part in it. He answered +the staff captain's question by a disapproving shake of his head. + +"You speak to the colonel about this nasty business before other +officers," continued the staff captain, "and Bogdanich" (the colonel +was called Bogdanich) "shuts you up." + +"He did not shut me up, he said I was telling an untruth." + +"Well, have it so, and you talked a lot of nonsense to him and +must apologize." + +"Not on any account!" exclaimed Rostov. + +"I did not expect this of you," said the staff captain seriously and +severely. "You don't wish to apologize, but, man, it's not only to him +but to the whole regiment- all of us- you're to blame all round. The +case is this: you ought to have thought the matter over and taken +advice; but no, you go and blurt it all straight out before the +officers. Now what was the colonel to do? Have the officer tried and +disgrace the whole regiment? Disgrace the whole regiment because of +one scoundrel? Is that how you look at it? We don't see it like +that. And Bogdanich was a brick: he told you you were saying what +was not true. It's not pleasant, but what's to be done, my dear +fellow? You landed yourself in it. And now, when one wants to smooth +the thing over, some conceit prevents your apologizing, and you wish +to make the whole affair public. You are offended at being put on duty +a bit, but why not apologize to an old and honorable officer? Whatever +Bogdanich may be, anyway he is an honorable and brave old colonel! +You're quick at taking offense, but you don't mind disgracing the +whole regiment!" The staff captain's voice began to tremble. "You have +been in the regiment next to no time, my lad, you're here today and +tomorrow you'll be appointed adjutant somewhere and can snap your +fingers when it is said 'There are thieves among the Pavlograd +officers!' But it's not all the same to us! Am I not right, Denisov? +It's not the same!" + +Denisov remained silent and did not move, but occasionally looked +with his glittering black eyes at Rostov. + +"You value your own pride and don't wish to apologize," continued +the staff captain, "but we old fellows, who have grown up in and, +God willing, are going to die in the regiment, we prize the honor of +the regiment, and Bogdanich knows it. Oh, we do prize it, old +fellow! And all this is not right, it's not right! You may take +offense or not but I always stick to mother truth. It's not right!" + +And the staff captain rose and turned away from Rostov. + +"That's twue, devil take it" shouted Denisov, jumping up. "Now then, +Wostov, now then!" + +Rostov, growing red and pale alternately, looked first at one +officer and then at the other. + +"No, gentlemen, no... you mustn't think... I quite understand. +You're wrong to think that of me... I... for me... for the honor of +the regiment I'd... Ah well, I'll show that in action, and for me +the honor of the flag... Well, never mind, it's true I'm to blame, +to blame all round. Well, what else do you want?..." + +"Come, that's right, Count!" cried the staff captain, turning +round and clapping Rostov on the shoulder with his big hand. + +"I tell you," shouted Denisov, "he's a fine fellow." + +"That's better, Count," said the staff captain, beginning to address +Rostov by his title, as if in recognition of his confession. "Go and +apologize, your excellency. Yes, go!" + +"Gentlemen, I'll do anything. No one shall hear a word from me," +said Rostov in an imploring voice, "but I can't apologize, by God I +can't, do what you will! How can I go and apologize like a little +boy asking forgiveness?" + +Denisov began to laugh. + +"It'll be worse for you. Bogdanich is vindictive and you'll pay +for your obstinacy," said Kirsten. + +"No, on my word it's not obstinacy! I can't describe the feeling. +I can't..." + +"Well, it's as you like," said the staff captain. "And what has +become of that scoundrel?" he asked Denisov. + +"He has weported himself sick, he's to be stwuck off the list +tomowwow," muttered Denisov. + +"It is an illness, there's no other way of explaining it," said +the staff captain. + +"Illness or not, he'd better not cwoss my path. I'd kill him!" +shouted Denisov in a bloodthirsty tone. + +Just then Zherkov entered the room. + +"What brings you here?" cried the officers turning to the newcomer. + +"We're to go into action, gentlemen! Mack has surrendered with his +whole army." + +"It's not true!" + +"I've seen him myself!" + +"What? Saw the real Mack? With hands and feet?" + +"Into action! Into action! Bring him a bottle for such news! But how +did you come here?" + +"I've been sent back to the regiment all on account of that devil, +Mack. An Austrian general complained of me. I congratulated him on +Mack's arrival... What's the matter, Rostov? You look as if you'd just +come out of a hot bath." + +"Oh, my dear fellow, we're in such a stew here these last two days." + +The regimental adjutant came in and confirmed the news brought by +Zherkov. They were under orders to advance next day. + +"We're going into action, gentlemen!" + +"Well, thank God! We've been sitting here too long!" + +CHAPTER VI + +Kutuzov fell back toward Vienna, destroying behind him the bridges +over the rivers Inn (at Braunau) and Traun (near Linz). On October +23 the Russian troops were crossing the river Enns. At midday the +Russian baggage train, the artillery, and columns of troops were +defiling through the town of Enns on both sides of the bridge. + +It was a warm, rainy, autumnal day. The wide expanse that opened out +before the heights on which the Russian batteries stood guarding the +bridge was at times veiled by a diaphanous curtain of slanting rain, +and then, suddenly spread out in the sunlight, far-distant objects +could be clearly seen glittering as though freshly varnished. Down +below, the little town could be seen with its white, red-roofed +houses, its cathedral, and its bridge, on both sides of which streamed +jostling masses of Russian troops. At the bend of the Danube, vessels, +an island, and a castle with a park surrounded by the waters of the +confluence of the Enns and the Danube became visible, and the rocky +left bank of the Danube covered with pine forests, with a mystic +background of green treetops and bluish gorges. The turrets of a +convent stood out beyond a wild virgin pine forest, and far away on +the other side of the Enns the enemy's horse patrols could be +discerned. + +Among the field guns on the brow of the hill the general in +command of the rearguard stood with a staff officer, scanning the +country through his fieldglass. A little behind them Nesvitski, who +had been sent to the rearguard by the commander in chief, was +sitting on the trail of a gun carriage. A Cossack who accompanied +him had handed him a knapsack and a flask, and Nesvitski was +treating some officers to pies and real doppelkummel. The officers +gladly gathered round him, some on their knees, some squatting Turkish +fashion on the wet grass. + +"Yes, the Austrian prince who built that castle was no fool. It's +a fine place! Why are you not eating anything, gentlemen?" Nesvitski +was saying. + +"Thank you very much, Prince," answered one of the officers, pleased +to be talking to a staff officer of such importance. "It's a lovely +place! We passed close to the park and saw two deer... and what a +splendid house!" + +"Look, Prince," said another, who would have dearly liked to take +another pie but felt shy, and therefore pretended to be examining +the countryside- "See, our infantrymen have already got there. Look +there in the meadow behind the village, three of them are dragging +something. They'll ransack that castle," he remarked with evident +approval. + +"So they will," said Nesvitski. "No, but what I should like," +added he, munching a pie in his moist-lipped handsome mouth, "would be +to slip in over there." + +He pointed with a smile to a turreted nunnery, and his eyes narrowed +and gleamed. + +"That would be fine, gentlemen!" + +The officers laughed. + +"Just to flutter the nuns a bit. They say there are Italian girls +among them. On my word I'd give five years of my life for it!" + +"They must be feeling dull, too," said one of the bolder officers, +laughing. + +Meanwhile the staff officer standing in front pointed out +something to the general, who looked through his field glass. + +"Yes, so it is, so it is," said the general angrily, lowering the +field glass and shrugging his shoulders, "so it is! They'll be fired +on at the crossing. And why are they dawdling there?" + +On the opposite side the enemy could be seen by the naked eye, and +from their battery a milk-white cloud arose. Then came the distant +report of a shot, and our troops could be seen hurrying to the +crossing. + +Nesvitski rose, puffing, and went up to the general, smiling. + +"Would not your excellency like a little refreshment?" he said. + +"It's a bad business," said the general without answering him, +"our men have been wasting time." + +"Hadn't I better ride over, your excellency?" asked Nesvitski. + +"Yes, please do," answered the general, and he repeated the order +that had already once been given in detail: "and tell the hussars that +they are to cross last and to fire the bridge as I ordered; and the +inflammable material on the bridge must be reinspected." + +"Very good," answered Nesvitski. + +He called the Cossack with his horse, told him to put away the +knapsack and flask, and swung his heavy person easily into the saddle. + +"I'll really call in on the nuns," he said to the officers who +watched him smilingly, and he rode off by the winding path down the +hill. + +"Now then, let's see how far it will carry, Captain. Just try!" said +the general, turning to an artillery officer. "Have a little fun to +pass the time." + +"Crew, to your guns!" commanded the officer. + +In a moment the men came running gaily from their campfires and +began loading. + +"One!" came the command. + +Number one jumped briskly aside. The gun rang out with a deafening +metallic roar, and a whistling grenade flew above the heads of our +troops below the hill and fell far short of the enemy, a little +smoke showing the spot where it burst. + +The faces of officers and men brightened up at the sound. Everyone +got up and began watching the movements of our troops below, as +plainly visible as if but a stone's throw away, and the movements of +the approaching enemy farther off. At the same instant the sun came +fully out from behind the clouds, and the clear sound of the +solitary shot and the brilliance of the bright sunshine merged in a +single joyous and spirited impression. + +CHAPTER VII + +Two of the enemy's shots had already flown across the bridge, +where there was a crush. Halfway across stood Prince Nesvitski, who +had alighted from his horse and whose big body was body was jammed +against the railings. He looked back laughing to the Cossack who stood +a few steps behind him holding two horses by their bridles. Each +time Prince Nesvitski tried to move on, soldiers and carts pushed +him back again and pressed him against the railings, and all he +could do was to smile. + +"What a fine fellow you are, friend!" said the Cossack to a convoy +soldier with a wagon, who was pressing onto the infantrymen who were +crowded together close to his wheels and his horses. "What a fellow! +You can't wait a moment! Don't you see the general wants to pass?" + +But the convoyman took no notice of the word "general" and shouted +at the soldiers who were blocking his way. "Hi there, boys! Keep to +the left! Wait a bit." But the soldiers, crowded together shoulder +to shoulder, their bayonets interlocking, moved over the bridge in a +dense mass. Looking down over the rails Prince Nesvitski saw the +rapid, noisy little waves of the Enns, which rippling and eddying +round the piles of the bridge chased each other along. Looking on +the bridge he saw equally uniform living waves of soldiers, shoulder +straps, covered shakos, knapsacks, bayonets, long muskets, and, +under the shakos, faces with broad cheekbones, sunken cheeks, and +listless tired expressions, and feet that moved through the sticky mud +that covered the planks of the bridge. Sometimes through the +monotonous waves of men, like a fleck of white foam on the waves of +the Enns, an officer, in a cloak and with a type of face different +from that of the men, squeezed his way along; sometimes like a chip of +wood whirling in the river, an hussar on foot, an orderly, or a +townsman was carried through the waves of infantry; and sometimes like +a log floating down the river, an officers' or company's baggage +wagon, piled high, leather covered, and hemmed in on all sides, +moved across the bridge. + +"It's as if a dam had burst," said the Cossack hopelessly. "Are +there many more of you to come?" + +"A million all but one!" replied a waggish soldier in a torn coat, +with a wink, and passed on followed by another, an old man. + +"If he" (he meant the enemy) "begins popping at the bridge now," +said the old soldier dismally to a comrade, "you'll forget to +scratch yourself." + +That soldier passed on, and after him came another sitting on a +cart. + +"Where the devil have the leg bands been shoved to?" said an +orderly, running behind the cart and fumbling in the back of it. + +And he also passed on with the wagon. Then came some merry +soldiers who had evidently been drinking. + +"And then, old fellow, he gives him one in the teeth with the butt +end of his gun..." a soldier whose greatcoat was well tucked up said +gaily, with a wide swing of his arm. + +"Yes, the ham was just delicious..." answered another with a loud +laugh. And they, too, passed on, so that Nesvitski did not learn who +had been struck on the teeth, or what the ham had to do with it. + +"Bah! How they scurry. He just sends a ball and they think they'll +all be killed," a sergeant was saying angrily and reproachfully. + +"As it flies past me, Daddy, the ball I mean," said a young +soldier with an enormous mouth, hardly refraining from laughing, "I +felt like dying of fright. I did, 'pon my word, I got that +frightened!" said he, as if bragging of having been frightened. + +That one also passed. Then followed a cart unlike any that had +gone before. It was a German cart with a pair of horses led by a +German, and seemed loaded with a whole houseful of effects. A fine +brindled cow with a large udder was attached to the cart behind. A +woman with an unweaned baby, an old woman, and a healthy German girl +with bright red cheeks were sitting on some feather beds. Evidently +these fugitives were allowed to pass by special permission. The eyes +of all the soldiers turned toward the women, and while the vehicle was +passing at foot pace all the soldiers' remarks related to the two +young ones. Every face bore almost the same smile, expressing unseemly +thoughts about the women. + +"Just see, the German sausage is making tracks, too!" + +"Sell me the missis," said another soldier, addressing the German, +who, angry and frightened, strode energetically along with downcast +eyes. + +"See how smart she's made herself! Oh, the devils!" + +"There, Fedotov, you should be quartered on them!" + +"I have seen as much before now, mate!" + +"Where are you going?" asked an infantry officer who was eating an +apple, also half smiling as he looked at the handsome girl. + +The German closed his eyes, signifying that he did not understand. + +"Take it if you like," said the officer, giving the girl an apple. + +The girl smiled and took it. Nesvitski like the rest of the men on +the bridge did not take his eyes off the women till they had passed. +When they had gone by, the same stream of soldiers followed, with +the same kind of talk, and at last all stopped. As often happens, +the horses of a convoy wagon became restive at the end of the +bridge, and the whole crowd had to wait. + +"And why are they stopping? There's no proper order!" said the +soldiers. "Where are you shoving to? Devil take you! Can't you wait? +It'll be worse if he fires the bridge. See, here's an officer jammed +in too"- different voices were saying in the crowd, as the men +looked at one another, and all pressed toward the exit from the +bridge. + +Looking down at the waters of the Enns under the bridge, Nesvitski +suddenly heard a sound new to him, of something swiftly approaching... +something big, that splashed into the water. + +"Just see where it carries to!" a soldier near by said sternly, +looking round at the sound. + +"Encouraging us to get along quicker," said another uneasily. + +The crowd moved on again. Nesvitski realized that it was a cannon +ball. + +"Hey, Cossack, my horse!" he said. "Now, then, you there! get out of +the way! Make way!" + +With great difficulty he managed to get to his horse, and shouting +continually he moved on. The soldiers squeezed themselves to make +way for him, but again pressed on him so that they jammed his leg, and +those nearest him were not to blame for they were themselves pressed +still harder from behind. + +"Nesvitski, Nesvitski! you numskull!" came a hoarse voice from +behind him. + +Nesvitski looked round and saw, some fifteen paces away but +separated by the living mass of moving infantry, Vaska Denisov, red +and shaggy, with his cap on the back of his black head and a cloak +hanging jauntily over his shoulder. + +"Tell these devils, these fiends, to let me pass!" shouted Denisov +evidently in a fit of rage, his coal-black eyes with their bloodshot +whites glittering and rolling as he waved his sheathed saber in a +small bare hand as red as his face. + +"Ah, Vaska!" joyfully replied Nesvitski. "What's up with you?" + +"The squadwon can't pass," shouted Vaska Denisov, showing his +white teeth fiercely and spurring his black thoroughbred Arab, which +twitched its ears as the bayonets touched it, and snorted, spurting +white foam from his bit, tramping the planks of the bridge with his +hoofs, and apparently ready to jump over the railings had his rider +let him. "What is this? They're like sheep! Just like sheep! Out of +the way!... Let us pass!... Stop there, you devil with the cart! +I'll hack you with my saber!" he shouted, actually drawing his saber +from its scabbard and flourishing it + +The soldiers crowded against one another with terrified faces, and +Denisov joined Nesvitski. + +"How's it you're not drunk today?" said Nesvitski when the other had +ridden up to him. + +"They don't even give one time to dwink!" answered Vaska Denisov. +"They keep dwagging the wegiment to and fwo all day. If they mean to +fight, let's fight. But the devil knows what this is." + +"What a dandy you are today!" said Nesvitski, looking at Denisov's +new cloak and saddlecloth. + +Denisov smiled, took out of his sabretache a handkerchief that +diffused a smell of perfume, and put it to Nesvitski's nose. + +"Of course. I'm going into action! I've shaved, bwushed my teeth, +and scented myself." + +The imposing figure of Nesvitski followed by his Cossack, and the +determination of Denisov who flourished his sword and shouted +frantically, had such an effect that they managed to squeeze through +to the farther side of the bridge and stopped the infantry. Beside the +bridge Nesvitski found the colonel to whom he had to deliver the +order, and having done this he rode back. + +Having cleared the way Denisov stopped at the end of the bridge. +Carelessly holding in his stallion that was neighing and pawing the +ground, eager to rejoin its fellows, he watched his squadron draw +nearer. Then the clang of hoofs, as of several horses galloping, +resounded on the planks of the bridge, and the squadron, officers in +front and men four abreast, spread across the bridge and began to +emerge on his side of it. + +The infantry who had been stopped crowded near the bridge in the +trampled mud and gazed with that particular feeling of ill-will, +estrangement, and ridicule with which troops of different arms usually +encounter one another at the clean, smart hussars who moved past +them in regular order. + +"Smart lads! Only fit for a fair!" said one. + +"What good are they? They're led about just for show!" remarked +another. + +"Don't kick up the dust, you infantry!" jested an hussar whose +prancing horse had splashed mud over some foot soldiers. + +"I'd like to put you on a two days' march with a knapsack! Your fine +cords would soon get a bit rubbed," said an infantryman, wiping the +mud off his face with his sleeve. "Perched up there, you're more +like a bird than a man." + +"There now, Zikin, they ought to put you on a horse. You'd look +fine," said a corporal, chaffing a thin little soldier who bent +under the weight of his knapsack. + +"Take a stick between your legs, that'll suit you for a horse!" +the hussar shouted back. + +CHAPTER VIII + +The last of the infantry hurriedly crossed the bridge, squeezing +together as they approached it as if passing through a funnel. At last +the baggage wagons had all crossed, the crush was less, and the last +battalion came onto the bridge. Only Denisov's squadron of hussars +remained on the farther side of the bridge facing the enemy, who could +be seen from the hill on the opposite bank but was not yet visible +from the bridge, for the horizon as seen from the valley through which +the river flowed was formed by the rising ground only half a mile +away. At the foot of the hill lay wasteland over which a few groups of +our Cossack scouts were moving. Suddenly on the road at the top of the +high ground, artillery and troops in blue uniform were seen. These +were the French. A group of Cossack scouts retired down the hill at +a trot. All the officers and men of Denisov's squadron, though they +tried to talk of other things and to look in other directions, thought +only of what was there on the hilltop, and kept constantly looking +at the patches appearing on the skyline, which they knew to be the +enemy's troops. The weather had cleared again since noon and the sun +was descending brightly upon the Danube and the dark hills around +it. It was calm, and at intervals the bugle calls and the shouts of +the enemy could be heard from the hill. There was no one now between +the squadron and the enemy except a few scattered skirmishers. An +empty space of some seven hundred yards was all that separated them. +The enemy ceased firing, and that stern, threatening, inaccessible, +and intangible line which separates two hostile armies was all the +more clearly felt. + +"One step beyond that boundary line which resembles the line +dividing the living from the dead lies uncertainty, suffering, and +death. And what is there? Who is there?- there beyond that field, that +tree, that roof lit up by the sun? No one knows, but one wants to +know. You fear and yet long to cross that line, and know that sooner +or later it must be crossed and you will have to find out what is +there, just as you will inevitably have to learn what lies the other +side of death. But you are strong, healthy, cheerful, and excited, and +are surrounded by other such excitedly animated and healthy men." So +thinks, or at any rate feels, anyone who comes in sight of the +enemy, and that feeling gives a particular glamour and glad keenness +of impression to everything that takes place at such moments. + +On the high ground where the enemy was, the smoke of a cannon +rose, and a ball flew whistling over the heads of the hussar squadron. +The officers who had been standing together rode off to their +places. The hussars began carefully aligning their horses. Silence +fell on the whole squadron. All were looking at the enemy in front and +at the squadron commander, awaiting the word of command. A second +and a third cannon ball flew past. Evidently they were firing at the +hussars, but the balls with rapid rhythmic whistle flew over the heads +of the horsemen and fell somewhere beyond them. The hussars did not +look round, but at the sound of each shot, as at the word of +command, the whole squadron with its rows of faces so alike yet so +different, holding its breath while the ball flew past, rose in the +stirrups and sank back again. The soldiers without turning their heads +glanced at one another, curious to see their comrades' impression. +Every face, from Denisov's to that of the bugler, showed one common +expression of conflict, irritation, and excitement, around chin and +mouth. The quartermaster frowned, looking at the soldiers as if +threatening to punish them. Cadet Mironov ducked every time a ball +flew past. Rostov on the left flank, mounted on his Rook- a handsome +horse despite its game leg- had the happy air of a schoolboy called up +before a large audience for an examination in which he feels sure he +will distinguish himself. He was glancing at everyone with a clear, +bright expression, as if asking them to notice how calmly he sat under +fire. But despite himself, on his face too that same indication of +something new and stern showed round the mouth. + +"Who's that curtseying there? Cadet Miwonov! That's not wight! +Look at me," cried Denisov who, unable to keep still on one spot, kept +turning his horse in front of the squadron. + +The black, hairy, snub-nosed face of Vaska Denisov, and his whole +short sturdy figure with the sinewy hairy hand and stumpy fingers in +which he held the hilt of his naked saber, looked just as it usually +did, especially toward evening when he had emptied his second +bottle; he was only redder than usual. With his shaggy head thrown +back like birds when they drink, pressing his spurs mercilessly into +the sides of his good horse, Bedouin, and sitting as though falling +backwards in the saddle, he galloped to the other flank of the +squadron and shouted in a hoarse voice to the men to look to their +pistols. He rode up to Kirsten. The staff captain on his broad-backed, +steady mare came at a walk to meet him. His face with its long +mustache was serious as always, only his eyes were brighter than +usual. + +"Well, what about it?" said he to Denisov. "It won't come to a +fight. You'll see- we shall retire." + +"The devil only knows what they're about!" muttered Denisov. "Ah, +Wostov," he cried noticing the cadet's bright face, "you've got it +at last." + +And he smiled approvingly, evidently pleased with the cadet. +Rostov felt perfectly happy. Just then the commander appeared on the +bridge. Denisov galloped up to him. + +"Your excellency! Let us attack them! I'll dwive them off." + +"Attack indeed!" said the colonel in a bored voice, puckering up his +face as if driving off a troublesome fly. "And why are you stopping +here? Don't you see the skirmishers are retreating? Lead the +squadron back." + +The squadron crossed the bridge and drew out of range of fire +without having lost a single man. The second squadron that had been in +the front line followed them across and the last Cossacks quitted +the farther side of the river. + +The two Pavlograd squadrons, having crossed the bridge, retired up +the hill one after the other. Their colonel, Karl Bogdanich +Schubert, came up to Denisov's squadron and rode at a footpace not far +from Rostov, without taking any notice of him although they were now +meeting for the first time since their encounter concerning +Telyanin. Rostov, feeling that he was at the front and in the power of +a man toward whom he now admitted that he had been to blame, did not +lift his eyes from the colonel's athletic back, his nape covered +with light hair, and his red neck. It seemed to Rostov that +Bogdanich was only pretending not to notice him, and that his whole +aim now was to test the cadet's courage, so he drew himself up and +looked around him merrily; then it seemed to him that Bogdanich rode +so near in order to show him his courage. Next he thought that his +enemy would send the squadron on a desperate attack just to punish +him- Rostov. Then he imagined how, after the attack, Bogdanich would +come up to him as he lay wounded and would magnanimously extend the +hand of reconciliation. + +The high-shouldered figure of Zherkov, familiar to the Pavlograds as +he had but recently left their regiment, rode up to the colonel. After +his dismissal from headquarters Zherkov had not remained in the +regiment, saying he was not such a fool as to slave at the front +when he could get more rewards by doing nothing on the staff, and +had succeeded in attaching himself as an orderly officer to Prince +Bagration. He now came to his former chief with an order from the +commander of the rear guard. + +"Colonel," he said, addressing Rostov's enemy with an air of +gloomy gravity and glancing round at his comrades, "there is an +order to stop and fire the bridge." + +"An order to who?" asked the colonel morosely. + +"I don't myself know 'to who,'" replied the cornet in a serious +tone, "but the prince told me to 'go and tell the colonel that the +hussars must return quickly and fire the bridge.'" + +Zherkov was followed by an officer of the suite who rode up to the +colonel of hussars with the same order. After him the stout +Nesvitski came galloping up on a Cossack horse that could scarcely +carry his weight. + +"How's this, Colonel?" he shouted as he approached. "I told you to +fire the bridge, and now someone has gone and blundered; they are +all beside themselves over there and one can't make anything out." + +The colonel deliberately stopped the regiment and turned to +Nesvitski. + +"You spoke to me of inflammable material," said he, "but you said +nothing about firing it." + +"But, my dear sir," said Nesvitski as he drew up, taking off his cap +and smoothing his hair wet with perspiration with his plump hand, +"wasn't I telling you to fire the bridge, when inflammable material +had been put in position?" + +"I am not your 'dear sir,' Mr. Staff Officer, and you did not tell +me to burn the bridge! I know the service, and it is my habit orders +strictly to obey. You said the bridge would be burned, but who would +it burn, I could not know by the holy spirit!" + +"Ah, that's always the way!" said Nesvitski with a wave of the hand. +"How did you get here?" said he, turning to Zherkov. + +"On the same business. But you are damp! Let me wring you out!" + +"You were saying, Mr. Staff Officer..." continued the colonel in +an offended tone. + +"Colonel," interrupted the officer of the suite, "You must be +quick or the enemy will bring up his guns to use grapeshot." + +The colonel looked silently at the officer of the suite, at the +stout staff officer, and at Zherkov, and he frowned. + +"I will the bridge fire," he said in a solemn tone as if to announce +that in spite of all the unpleasantness he had to endure he would +still do the right thing. + +Striking his horse with his long muscular legs as if it were to +blame for everything, the colonel moved forward and ordered the second +squadron, that in which Rostov was serving under Denisov, to return to +the bridge. + +"There, it's just as I thought," said Rostov to himself. "He +wishes to test me!" His heart contracted and the blood rushed to his +face. "Let him see whether I am a coward!" he thought. + +Again on all the bright faces of the squadron the serious expression +appeared that they had worn when under fire. Rostov watched his enemy, +the colonel, closely- to find in his face confirmation of his own +conjecture, but the colonel did not once glance at Rostov, and +looked as he always did when at the front, solemn and stern. Then came +the word of command. + +"Look sharp! Look sharp!" several voices repeated around him. + +Their sabers catching in the bridles and their spurs jingling, the +hussars hastily dismounted, not knowing what they were to do. The +men were crossing themselves. Rostov no longer looked at the +colonel, he had no time. He was afraid of falling behind the +hussars, so much afraid that his heart stood still. His hand +trembled as he gave his horse into an orderly's charge, and he felt +the blood rush to his heart with a thud. Denisov rode past him, +leaning back and shouting something. Rostov saw nothing but the +hussars running all around him, their spurs catching and their +sabers clattering. + +"Stretchers!" shouted someone behind him. + +Rostov did not think what this call for stretchers meant; he ran on, +trying only to be ahead of the others; but just at the bridge, not +looking at the ground, he came on some sticky, trodden mud, +stumbled, and fell on his hands. The others outstripped him. + +"At boss zides, Captain," he heard the voice of the colonel, who, +having ridden ahead, had pulled up his horse near the bridge, with a +triumphant, cheerful face. + +Rostov wiping his muddy hands on his breeches looked at his enemy +and was about to run on, thinking that the farther he went to the +front the better. But Bogdanich, without looking at or recognizing +Rostov, shouted to him: + +"Who's that running on the middle of the bridge? To the right! +Come back, Cadet!" he cried angrily; and turning to Denisov, who, +showing off his courage, had ridden on to the planks of the bridge: + +"Why run risks, Captain? You should dismount," he said. + +"Oh, every bullet has its billet," answered Vaska Denisov, turning +in his saddle. + +Meanwhile Nesvitski, Zherkov, and the officer of the suite were +standing together out of range of the shots, watching, now the small +group of men with yellow shakos, dark-green jackets braided with cord, +and blue riding breeches, who were swarming near the bridge, and +then at what was approaching in the distance from the opposite side- +the blue uniforms and groups with horses, easily recognizable as +artillery. + +"Will they burn the bridge or not? Who'll get there first? Will they +get there and fire the bridge or will the French get within +grapeshot range and wipe them out?" These were the questions each +man of the troops on the high ground above the bridge involuntarily +asked himself with a sinking heart- watching the bridge and the +hussars in the bright evening light and the blue tunics advancing from +the other side with their bayonets and guns. + +"Ugh. The hussars will get it hot!" said Nesvitski; "they are within +grapeshot range now." + +"He shouldn't have taken so many men," said the officer of the +suite. + +"True enough," answered Nesvitski; "two smart fellows could have +done the job just as well." + +"Ah, your excellency," put in Zherkov, his eyes fixed on the +hussars, but still with that naive air that made it impossible to know +whether he was speaking in jest or in earnest. "Ah, your excellency! +How you look at things! Send two men? And who then would give us the +Vladimir medal and ribbon? But now, even if they do get peppered, +the squadron may be recommended for honors and he may get a ribbon. +Our Bogdanich knows how things are done." + +"There now!" said the officer of the suite, "that's grapeshot." + +He pointed to the French guns, the limbers of which were being +detached and hurriedly removed. + +On the French side, amid the groups with cannon, a cloud of smoke +appeared, then a second and a third almost simultaneously, and at +the moment when the first report was heard a fourth was seen. Then two +reports one after another, and a third. + +"Oh! Oh!" groaned Nesvitski as if in fierce pain, seizing the +officer of the suite by the arm. "Look! A man has fallen! Fallen, +fallen!" + +"Two, I think." + +"If I were Tsar I would never go to war," said Nesvitski, turning +away. + +The French guns were hastily reloaded. The infantry in their blue +uniforms advanced toward the bridge at a run. Smoke appeared again but +at irregular intervals, and grapeshot cracked and rattled onto the +bridge. But this time Nesvitski could not see what was happening +there, as a dense cloud of smoke arose from it. The hussars had +succeeded in setting it on fire and the French batteries were now +firing at them, no longer to hinder them but because the guns were +trained and there was someone to fire at. + +The French had time to fire three rounds of grapeshot before the +hussars got back to their horses. Two were misdirected and the shot +went too high, but the last round fell in the midst of a group of +hussars and knocked three of them over. + +Rostov, absorbed by his relations with Bogdanich, had paused on +the bridge not knowing what to do. There was no one to hew down (as he +had always imagined battles to himself), nor could he help to fire the +bridge because he had not brought any burning straw with him like +the other soldiers. He stood looking about him, when suddenly he heard +a rattle on the bridge as if nuts were being spilt, and the hussar +nearest to him fell against the rails with a groan. Rostov ran up to +him with the others. Again someone shouted, "Stretchers!" Four men +seized the hussar and began lifting him. + +"Oooh! For Christ's sake let me alone!" cried the wounded man, but +still he was lifted and laid on the stretcher. + +Nicholas Rostov turned away and, as if searching for something, +gazed into the distance, at the waters of the Danube, at the sky, +and at the sun. How beautiful the sky looked; how blue, how calm, +and how deep! How bright and glorious was the setting sun! With what +soft glitter the waters of the distant Danube shone. And fairer +still were the faraway blue mountains beyond the river, the nunnery, +the mysterious gorges, and the pine forests veiled in the mist of +their summits... There was peace and happiness... "I should wishing +for nothing else, nothing, if only I were there," thought Rostov. +"In myself alone and in that sunshine there is so much happiness; +but here... groans, suffering, fear, and this uncertainty and hurry... +There- they are shouting again, and again are all running back +somewhere, and I shall run with them, and it, death, is here above +me and around... Another instant and I shall never again see the +sun, this water, that gorge!..." + +At that instant the sun began to hide behind the clouds, and other +stretchers came into view before Rostov. And the fear of death and +of the stretchers, and love of the sun and of life, all merged into +one feeling of sickening agitation. + +"O Lord God! Thou who art in that heaven, save, forgive, and protect +me!" Rostov whispered. + +The hussars ran back to the men who held their horses; their +voices sounded louder and calmer, the stretchers disappeared from +sight. + +"Well, fwiend? So you've smelt powdah!" shouted Vaska Denisov just +above his ear. + +"It's all over; but I am a coward- yes, a coward!" thought Rostov, +and sighing deeply he took Rook, his horse, which stood resting one +foot, from the orderly and began to mount. + +"Was that grapeshot?" he asked Denisov. + +"Yes and no mistake!" cried Denisov. "You worked like wegular bwicks +and it's nasty work! An attack's pleasant work! Hacking away at the +dogs! But this sort of thing is the very devil, with them shooting +at you like a target." + +And Denisov rode up to a group that had stopped near Rostov, +composed of the colonel, Nesvitski, Zherkov, and the officer from +the suite. + +"Well, it seems that no one has noticed," thought Rostov. And this +was true. No one had taken any notice, for everyone knew the sensation +which the cadet under fire for the first time had experienced. + +"Here's something for you to report," said Zherkov. "See if I +don't get promoted to a sublieutenancy." + +"Inform the prince that I the bridge fired!" said the colonel +triumphantly and gaily. + +"And if he asks about the losses?" + +"A trifle," said the colonel in his bass voice: "two hussars +wounded, and one knocked out," he added, unable to restrain a happy +smile, and pronouncing the phrase "knocked out" with ringing +distinctness. + +CHAPTER IX + +Pursued by the French army of a hundred thousand men under the +command of Bonaparte, encountering a population that was unfriendly to +it, losing confidence in its allies, suffering from shortness of +supplies, and compelled to act under conditions of war unlike anything +that had been foreseen, the Russian army of thirty-five thousand men +commanded by Kutuzov was hurriedly retreating along the Danube, +stopping where overtaken by the enemy and fighting rearguard actions +only as far as necessary to enable it to retreat without losing its +heavy equipment. There had been actions at Lambach, Amstetten, and +Melk; but despite the courage and endurance- acknowledged even by +the enemy- with which the Russians fought, the only consequence of +these actions was a yet more rapid retreat. Austrian troops that had +escaped capture at Ulm and had joined Kutuzov at Braunau now separated +from the Russian army, and Kutuzov was left with only his own weak and +exhausted forces. The defense of Vienna was no longer to be thought +of. Instead of an offensive, the plan of which, carefully prepared +in accord with the modern science of strategics, had been handed to +Kutuzov when he was in Vienna by the Austrian Hofkriegsrath, the +sole and almost unattainable aim remaining for him was to effect a +junction with the forces that were advancing from Russia, without +losing his army as Mack had done at Ulm. + +On the twenty-eighth of October Kutuzov with his army crossed to the +left bank of the Danube and took up a position for the first time with +the river between himself and the main body of the French. On the +thirtieth he attacked Mortier's division, which was on the left +bank, and broke it up. In this action for the first time trophies were +taken: banners, cannon, and two enemy generals. For the first time, +after a fortnight's retreat, the Russian troops had halted and after a +fight had not only held the field but had repulsed the French. +Though the troops were ill-clad, exhausted, and had lost a third of +their number in killed, wounded, sick, and stragglers; though a number +of sick and wounded had been abandoned on the other side of the Danube +with a letter in which Kutuzov entrusted them to the humanity of the +enemy; and though the big hospitals and the houses in Krems +converted into military hospitals could no longer accommodate all +the sick and wounded, yet the stand made at Krems and the victory over +Mortier raised the spirits of the army considerably. Throughout the +whole army and at headquarters most joyful though erroneous rumors +were rife of the imaginary approach of columns from Russia, of some +victory gained by the Austrians, and of the retreat of the +frightened Bonaparte. + +Prince Andrew during the battle had been in attendance on the +Austrian General Schmidt, who was killed in the action. His horse +had been wounded under him and his own arm slightly grazed by a +bullet. As a mark of the commander in chief's special favor he was +sent with the news of this victory to the Austrian court, now no +longer at Vienna (which was threatened by the French) but at Brunn. +Despite his apparently delicate build Prince Andrew could endure +physical fatigue far better than many very muscular men, and on the +night of the battle, having arrived at Krems excited but not weary, +with dispatches from Dokhturov to Kutuzov, he was sent immediately +with a special dispatch to Brunn. To be so sent meant not only a +reward but an important step toward promotion. + +The night was dark but starry, the road showed black in the snow +that had fallen the previous day- the day of the battle. Reviewing his +impressions of the recent battle, picturing pleasantly to himself +the impression his news of a victory would create, or recalling the +send-off given him by the commander in chief and his fellow +officers, Prince Andrew was galloping along in a post chaise +enjoying the feelings of a man who has at length begun to attain a +long-desired happiness. As soon as he closed his eyes his ears +seemed filled with the rattle of the wheels and the sensation of +victory. Then he began to imagine that the Russians were running +away and that he himself was killed, but he quickly roused himself +with a feeling of joy, as if learning afresh that this was not so +but that on the contrary the French had run away. He again recalled +all the details of the victory and his own calm courage during the +battle, and feeling reassured he dozed off.... The dark starry night +was followed by a bright cheerful morning. The snow was thawing in the +sunshine, the horses galloped quickly, and on both sides of the road +were forests of different kinds, fields, and villages. + +At one of the post stations he overtook a convoy of Russian wounded. +The Russian officer in charge of the transport lolled back in the +front cart, shouting and scolding a soldier with coarse abuse. In each +of the long German carts six or more pale, dirty, bandaged men were +being jolted over the stony road. Some of them were talking (he +heard Russian words), others were eating bread; the more severely +wounded looked silently, with the languid interest of sick children, +at the envoy hurrying past them. + +Prince Andrew told his driver to stop, and asked a soldier in what +action they had been wounded. "Day before yesterday, on the Danube," +answered the soldier. Prince Andrew took out his purse and gave the +soldier three gold pieces. + +"That's for them all," he said to the officer who came up. + +"Get well soon, lads!" he continued, turning to the soldiers. +"There's plenty to do still." + +"What news, sir?" asked the officer, evidently anxious to start a +conversation. + +"Good news!... Go on!" he shouted to the driver, and they galloped +on. + +It was already quite dark when Prince Andrew rattled over the +paved streets of Brunn and found himself surrounded by high buildings, +the lights of shops, houses, and street lamps, fine carriages, and all +that atmosphere of a large and active town which is always so +attractive to a soldier after camp life. Despite his rapid journey and +sleepless night, Prince Andrew when he drove up to the palace felt +even more vigorous and alert than he had done the day before. Only his +eyes gleamed feverishly and his thoughts followed one another with +extraordinary clearness and rapidity. He again vividly recalled the +details of the battle, no longer dim, but definite and in the +concise form concise form in which he imagined himself stating them to +the Emperor Francis. He vividly imagined the casual questions that +might be put to him and the answers he would give. He expected to be +at once presented to the Emperor. At the chief entrance to the palace, +however, an official came running out to meet him, and learning that +he was a special messenger led him to another entrance. + +"To the right from the corridor, Euer Hochgeboren! There you will +find the adjutant on duty," said the official. "He will conduct you to +the Minister of War." + +The adjutant on duty, meeting Prince Andrew, asked him to wait, +and went in to the Minister of War. Five minutes later he returned and +bowing with particular courtesy ushered Prince Andrew before him along +a corridor to the cabinet where the Minister of War was at work. The +adjutant by his elaborate courtesy appeared to wish to ward off any +attempt at familiarity on the part of the Russian messenger. + +Prince Andrew's joyous feeling was considerably weakened as he +approached the door of the minister's room. He felt offended, and +without his noticing it the feeling of offense immediately turned into +one of disdain which was quite uncalled for. His fertile mind +instantly suggested to him a point of view which gave him a right to +despise the adjutant and the minister. "Away from the smell of powder, +they probably think it easy to gain victories!" he thought. His eyes +narrowed disdainfully, he entered the room of the Minister of War with +peculiarly deliberate steps. This feeling of disdain was heightened +when he saw the minister seated at a large table reading some papers +and making pencil notes on them, and for the first two or three +minutes taking no notice of his arrival. A wax candle stood at each +side of the minister's bent bald head with its gray temples. He went +on reading to the end, without raising his eyes at the opening of +the door and the sound of footsteps. + +"Take this and deliver it," said he to his adjutant, handing him the +papers and still taking no notice of the special messenger. + +Prince Andrew felt that either the actions of Kutuzov's army +interested the Minister of War less than any of the other matters he +was concerned with, or he wanted to give the Russian special messenger +that impression. "But that is a matter of perfect indifference to me," +he thought. The minister drew the remaining papers together, +arranged them evenly, and then raised his head. He had an intellectual +and distinctive head, but the instant he turned to Prince Andrew the +firm, intelligent expression on his face changed in a way evidently +deliberate and habitual to him. His face took on the stupid artificial +smile (which does not even attempt to hide its artificiality) of a man +who is continually receiving many petitioners one after another. + +"From General Field Marshal Kutuzov?" he asked. "I hope it is good +news? There has been an encounter with Mortier? A victory? It was high +time!" + +He took the dispatch which was addressed to him and began to read it +with a mournful expression. + +"Oh, my God! My God! Schmidt!" he exclaimed in German. "What a +calamity! What a calamity!" + +Having glanced through the dispatch he laid it on the table and +looked at Prince Andrew, evidently considering something. + +"Ah what a calamity! You say the affair was decisive? But Mortier is +not captured." Again he pondered. "I am very glad you have brought +good news, though Schmidt's death is a heavy price to pay for the +victory. His Majesty will no doubt wish to see you, but not today. I +thank you! You must have a rest. Be at the levee tomorrow after the +parade. However, I will let you know." + +The stupid smile, which had left his face while he was speaking, +reappeared. + +"Au revoir! Thank you very much. His Majesty will probably desire to +see you," he added, bowing his head. + +When Prince Andrew left the palace he felt that all the interest and +happiness the victory had afforded him had been now left in the +indifferent hands of the Minister of War and the polite adjutant. +The whole tenor of his thoughts instantaneously changed; the battle +seemed the memory of a remote event long past. + +CHAPTER X + +Prince Andrew stayed at Brunn with Bilibin, a Russian acquaintance +of his in the diplomatic service. + +"Ah, my dear prince! I could not have a more welcome visitor," +said Bilibin as he came out to meet Prince Andrew. "Franz, put the +prince's things in my bedroom," said he to the servant who was +ushering Bolkonski in. "So you're a messenger of victory, eh? +Splendid! And I am sitting here ill, as you see." + +After washing and dressing, Prince Andrew came into the diplomat's +luxurious study and sat down to the dinner prepared for him. Bilibin +settled down comfortably beside the fire. + +After his journey and the campaign during which he had been deprived +of all the comforts of cleanliness and all the refinements of life, +Prince Andrew felt a pleasant sense of repose among luxurious +surroundings such as he had been accustomed to from childhood. Besides +it was pleasant, after his reception by the Austrians, to speak if not +in Russian (for they were speaking French) at least with a Russian who +would, he supposed, share the general Russian antipathy to the +Austrians which was then particularly strong. + +Bilibin was a man of thirty-five, a bachelor, and of the same circle +as Prince Andrew. They had known each other previously in +Petersburg, but had become more intimate when Prince Andrew was in +Vienna with Kutuzov. Just as Prince Andrew was a young man who gave +promise of rising high in the military profession, so to an even +greater extent Bilibin gave promise of rising in his diplomatic +career. He still a young man but no longer a young diplomat, as he had +entered the service at the age of sixteen, had been in Paris and +Copenhagen, and now held a rather important post in Vienna. Both the +foreign minister and our ambassador in Vienna knew him and valued him. +He was not one of those many diplomats who are esteemed because they +have certain negative qualities, avoid doing certain things, and speak +French. He was one of those, who, liking work, knew how to do it, +and despite his indolence would sometimes spend a whole night at his +writing table. He worked well whatever the import of his work. It +was not the question "What for?" but the question "How?" that +interested him. What the diplomatic matter might be he did not care, +but it gave him great pleasure to prepare a circular, memorandum, or +report, skillfully, pointedly, and elegantly. Bilibin's services +were valued not only for what he wrote, but also for his skill in +dealing and conversing with those in the highest spheres. + +Bilibin liked conversation as he liked work, only when it could be +made elegantly witty. In society he always awaited an opportunity to +say something striking and took part in a conversation only when +that was possible. His conversation was always sprinkled with +wittily original, finished phrases of general interest. These +sayings were prepared in the inner laboratory of his mind in a +portable form as if intentionally, so that insignificant society +people might carry them from drawing room to drawing room. And, in +fact, Bilibin's witticisms were hawked about in the Viennese drawing +rooms and often had an influence on matters considered important. + +His thin, worn, sallow face was covered with deep wrinkles, which +always looked as clean and well washed as the tips of one's fingers +after a Russian bath. The movement of these wrinkles formed the +principal play of expression on his face. Now his forehead would +pucker into deep folds and his eyebrows were lifted, then his eyebrows +would descend and deep wrinkles would crease his cheeks. His small, +deep-set eyes always twinkled and looked out straight. + +"Well, now tell me about your exploits," said he. + +Bolkonski, very modestly without once mentioning himself, +described the engagement and his reception by the Minister of War. + +"They received me and my news as one receives a dog in a game of +skittles," said he in conclusion. + +Bilibin smiled and the wrinkles on his face disappeared. + +"Cependant, mon cher," he remarked, examining his nails from a +distance and puckering the skin above his left eye, "malgre la haute +estime que je professe pour the Orthodox Russian army, j'avoue que +votre victoire n'est pas des plus victorieuses."~^ + +^~ "But my dear fellow, with all my respect for the Orthodox Russian +army, I must say that your victory was not particularly victorious." + +He went on talking in this way in French, uttering only those +words in Russian on which he wished to put a contemptuous emphasis. + +"Come now! You with all your forces fall on the unfortunate +Mortier and his one division, and even then Mortier slips through your +fingers! Where's the victory?" + +"But seriously," said Prince Andrew, "we can at any rate say without +boasting that it was a little better than at Ulm..." + +"Why didn't you capture one, just one, marshal for us?" + +"Because not everything happens as one expects or with the +smoothness of a parade. We had expected, as I told you, to get at +their rear by seven in the morning but had not reached it by five in +the afternoon." + +"And why didn't you do it at seven in the morning? You ought to have +been there at seven in the morning," returned Bilibin with a smile. +"You ought to have been there at seven in the morning." + +"Why did you not succeed in impressing on Bonaparte by diplomatic +methods that he had better leave Genoa alone?" retorted Prince +Andrew in the same tone. + +"I know," interrupted Bilibin, "you're thinking it's very easy to +take marshals, sitting on a sofa by the fire! That is true, but +still why didn't you capture him? So don't be surprised if not only +the Minister of War but also his Most August Majesty the Emperor and +King Francis is not much delighted by your victory. Even I, a poor +secretary of the Russian Embassy, do not feel any need in token of +my joy to give my Franz a thaler, or let him go with his Liebchen to +the Prater... True, we have no Prater here..." + +He looked straight at Prince Andrew and suddenly unwrinkled his +forehead. + +"It is now my turn to ask you 'why?' mon cher," said Bolkonski. "I +confess I do not understand: perhaps there are diplomatic subtleties +here beyond my feeble intelligence, but I can't make it out. Mack +loses a whole army, the Archduke Ferdinand and the Archduke Karl +give no signs of life and make blunder after blunder. Kutuzov alone at +last gains a real victory, destroying the spell of the invincibility +of the French, and the Minister of War does not even care to hear +the details." + +"That's just it, my dear fellow. You see it's hurrah for the Tsar, +for Russia, for the Orthodox Greek faith! All that is beautiful, but +what do we, I mean the Austrian court, care for your victories? +Bring us nice news of a victory by the Archduke Karl or Ferdinand (one +archduke's as good as another, as you know) and even if it is only +over a fire brigade of Bonaparte's, that will be another story and +we'll fire off some cannon! But this sort of thing seems done on +purpose to vex us. The Archduke Karl does nothing, the Archduke +Ferdinand disgraces himself. You abandon Vienna, give up its +defense- as much as to say: 'Heaven is with us, but heaven help you +and your capital!' The one general whom we all loved, Schmidt, you +expose to a bullet, and then you congratulate us on the victory! Admit +that more irritating news than yours could not have been conceived. +It's as if it had been done on purpose, on purpose. Besides, suppose +you did gain a brilliant victory, if even the Archduke Karl gained a +victory, what effect would that have on the general course of +events? It's too late now when Vienna is occupied by the French army!" + +"What? Occupied? Vienna occupied?" + +"Not only occupied, but Bonaparte is at Schonbrunn, and the count, +our dear Count Vrbna, goes to him for orders." + +After the fatigues and impressions of the journey, his reception, +and especially after having dined, Bolkonski felt that he could not +take in the full significance of the words he heard. + +"Count Lichtenfels was here this morning," Bilibin continued, "and +showed me a letter in which the parade of the French in Vienna was +fully described: Prince Murat et tout le tremblement... You see that +your victory is not a matter for great rejoicing and that you can't be +received as a savior." + +"Really I don't care about that, I don't care at all," said Prince +Andrew, beginning to understand that his news of the battle before +Krems was really of small importance in view of such events as the +fall of Austria's capital. "How is it Vienna was taken? What of the +bridge and its celebrated bridgehead and Prince Auersperg? We heard +reports that Prince Auersperg was defending Vienna?" he said. + +"Prince Auersperg is on this, on our side of the river, and is +defending us- doing it very badly, I think, but still he is +defending us. But Vienna is on the other side. No, the bridge has +not yet been taken and I hope it will not be, for it is mined and +orders have been given to blow it up. Otherwise we should long ago +have been in the mountains of Bohemia, and you and your army would +have spent a bad quarter of an hour between two fires." + +"But still this does not mean that the campaign is over," said +Prince Andrew. + +"Well, I think it is. The bigwigs here think so too, but they +daren't say so. It will be as I said at the beginning of the campaign, +it won't be your skirmishing at Durrenstein, or gunpowder at all, that +will decide the matter, but those who devised it," said Bilibin +quoting one of his own mots, releasing the wrinkles on his forehead, +and pausing. "The only question is what will come of the meeting +between the Emperor Alexander and the King of Prussia in Berlin? If +Prussia joins the Allies, Austria's hand will be forced and there will +be war. If not it is merely a question of settling where the +preliminaries of the new Campo Formio are to be drawn up." + +"What an extraordinary genius!" Prince Andrew suddenly exclaimed, +clenching his small hand and striking the table with it, "and what +luck the man has!" + +"Buonaparte?" said Bilibin inquiringly, puckering up his forehead to +indicate that he was about to say something witty. "Buonaparte?" he +repeated, accentuating the u: "I think, however, now that he lays down +laws for Austria at Schonbrunn, il faut lui faire grace de l'u!~^ I +shall certainly adopt an innovation and call him simply Bonaparte!" + +^~ "We must let him off the u!" + +"But joking apart," said Prince Andrew, "do you really think the +campaign is over?" + +"This is what I think. Austria has been made a fool of, and she is +not used to it. She will retaliate. And she has been fooled in the +first place because her provinces have been pillaged- they say the +Holy Russian army loots terribly- her army is destroyed, her capital +taken, and all this for the beaux yeux~^ of His Sardinian Majesty. +And therefore- this is between ourselves- I instinctively feel that we +are being deceived, my instinct tells me of negotiations with France +and projects for peace, a secret peace concluded separately." + +^~ Fine eyes. + +"Impossible!" cried Prince Andrew. "That would be too base." + +"If we live we shall see," replied Bilibin, his face again +becoming smooth as a sign that the conversation was at an end. + +When Prince Andrew reached the room prepared for him and lay down in +a clean shirt on the feather bed with its warmed and fragrant pillows, +he felt that the battle of which he had brought tidings was far, far +away from him. The alliance with Prussia, Austria's treachery, +Bonaparte's new triumph, tomorrow's levee and parade, and the audience +with the Emperor Francis occupied his thoughts. + +He closed his eyes, and immediately a sound of cannonading, of +musketry and the rattling of carriage wheels seemed to fill his +ears, and now again drawn out in a thin line the musketeers were +descending the hill, the French were firing, and he felt his heart +palpitating as he rode forward beside Schmidt with the bullets merrily +whistling all around, and he experienced tenfold the joy of living, as +he had not done since childhood. + +He woke up... + +"Yes, that all happened!" he said, and, smiling happily to himself +like a child, he fell into a deep, youthful slumber. + +CHAPTER XI + +Next day he woke late. Recalling his recent impressions, the first +thought that came into his mind was that today he had to be +presented to the Emperor Francis; he remembered the Minister of War, + +the polite Austrian adjutant, Bilibin, and last night's +conversation. Having dressed for his attendance at court in full +parade uniform, which he had not worn for a long time, he went into +Bilibin's study fresh, animated, and handsome, with his hand bandaged. +In the study were four gentlemen of the diplomatic corps. With +Prince Hippolyte Kuragin, who was a secretary to the embassy, +Bolkonski was already acquainted. Bilibin introduced him to the +others. + +The gentlemen assembled at Bilibin's were young, wealthy, gay +society men, who here, as in Vienna, formed a special set which +Bilibin, their leader, called les notres.~^ This set, consisting almost +exclusively of diplomats, evidently had its own interests which had +nothing to do with war or politics but related to high society, to +certain women, and to the official side of the service. These +gentlemen received Prince Andrew as one of themselves, an honor they +did not extend to many. From politeness and to start conversation, +they asked him a few questions about the army and the battle, and then +the talk went off into merry jests and gossip. + +^~ Ours. + +"But the best of it was," said one, telling of the misfortune of a +fellow diplomat, "that the Chancellor told him flatly that his +appointment to London was a promotion and that he was so to regard it. +Can you fancy the figure he cut?..." + +"But the worst of it, gentlemen- I am giving Kuragin away to you- is +that that man suffers, and this Don Juan, wicked fellow, is taking +advantage of it!" + +Prince Hippolyte was lolling in a lounge chair with his legs over +its arm. He began to laugh. + +"Tell me about that!" he said. + +"Oh, you Don Juan! You serpent!" cried several voices. + +"You, Bolkonski, don't know," said Bilibin turning to Prince Andrew, +"that all the atrocities of the French army (I nearly said of the +Russian army) are nothing compared to what this man has been doing +among the women!" + +"La femme est la compagne de l'homme,"~^ announced Prince +Hippolyte, and began looking through a lorgnette at his elevated legs. + +^~ "Woman is man's companion." + +Bilibin and the rest of "ours" burst out laughing in Hippolyte's +face, and Prince Andrew saw that Hippolyte, of whom- he had to +admit- he had almost been jealous on his wife's account, was the +butt of this set. + +"Oh, I must give you a treat," Bilibin whispered to Bolkonski. +"Kuragin is exquisite when he discusses politics- you should see his +gravity!" + +He sat down beside Hippolyte and wrinkling his forehead began +talking to him about politics. Prince Andrew and the others gathered +round these two. + +"The Berlin cabinet cannot express a feeling of alliance," began +Hippolyte gazing round with importance at the others, "without +expressing... as in its last note... you understand... Besides, unless +His Majesty the Emperor derogates from the principle of our +alliance... + +"Wait, I have not finished..." he said to Prince Andrew, seizing him +by the arm, "I believe that intervention will be stronger than +nonintervention. And..." he paused. "Finally one cannot impute the +nonreceipt of our dispatch of November 18. That is how it will end." +And he released Bolkonski's arm to indicate that he had now quite +finished. + +"Demosthenes, I know thee by the pebble thou secretest in thy golden +mouth!" said Bilibin, and the mop of hair on his head moved with +satisfaction. + +Everybody laughed, and Hippolyte louder than anyone. He was +evidently distressed, and breathed painfully, but could not restrain +the wild laughter that convulsed his usually impassive features. + +"Well now, gentlemen," said Bilibin, "Bolkonski is my guest in +this house and in Brunn itself. I want to entertain him as far as I +can, with all the pleasures of life here. If we were in Vienna it +would be easy, but here, in this wretched Moravian hole, it is more +difficult, and I beg you all to help me. Brunn's attractions must be +shown him. You can undertake the theater, I society, and you, +Hippolyte, of course the women." + +"We must let him see Amelie, she's exquisite!" said one of "ours," +kissing his finger tips. + +"In general we must turn this bloodthirsty soldier to more humane +interests," said Bilibin. + +"I shall scarcely be able to avail myself of your hospitality, +gentlemen, it is already time for me to go," replied Prince Andrew +looking at his watch. + +"Where to?" + +"To the Emperor." + +"Oh! Oh! Oh!" Well, au revoir, Bolkonski! Au revoir, Prince! Come +back early to dinner," cried several voices. "We'll take you in hand." + +"When speaking to the Emperor, try as far as you can to praise the +way that provisions are supplied and the routes indicated," said +Bilibin, accompanying him to the hall. + +"I should like to speak well of them, but as far as I the facts, I +can't," replied Bolkonski, smiling. + +"Well, talk as much as you can, anyway. He has a passion for +giving audiences, but he does not like talking himself and can't do +it, as you will see." + +CHAPTER XII + +At the levee Prince Andrew stood among the Austrian officers as he +had been told to, and the Emperor Francis merely looked fixedly into +his face and just nodded to him with to him with his long head. But +after it was over, the adjutant he had seen the previous day +ceremoniously informed Bolkonski that the Emperor desired to give +him an audience. The Emperor Francis received him standing in the +middle of the room. Before the conversation began Prince Andrew was +struck by the fact that the Emperor seemed confused and blushed as +if not knowing what to say. + +"Tell me, when did the battle begin?" he asked hurriedly. + +Prince Andrew replied. Then followed other questions just as simple: +"Was Kutuzov well? When had he left Krems?" and so on. The Emperor +spoke as if his sole aim were to put a given number of questions- +the answers to these questions, as was only too evident, did not +interest him. + +"At what o'clock did the battle begin?" asked the Emperor. + +"I cannot inform Your Majesty at what o'clock the battle began at +the front, but at Durrenstein, where I was, our attack began after +five in the afternoon," replied Bolkonski growing more animated and +expecting that he would have a chance to give a reliable account, +which he had ready in his mind, of all he knew and had seen. But the +Emperor smiled and interrupted him. + +"How many miles?" + +"From where to where, Your Majesty?" + +"From Durrenstein to Krems." + +"Three and a half miles, Your Majesty." + +"The French have abandoned the left bank?" + +"According to the scouts the last of them crossed on rafts during +the night." + +"Is there sufficient forage in Krems?" + +"Forage has not been supplied to the extent..." + +The Emperor interrupted him. + +"At what o'clock was General Schmidt killed?" + +"At seven o'clock, I believe." + +"At seven o'clock? It's very sad, very sad!" + +The Emperor thanked Prince Andrew and bowed. Prince Andrew +withdrew and was immediately surrounded by courtiers on all sides. +Everywhere he saw friendly looks and heard friendly words. Yesterday's +adjutant reproached him for not having stayed at the palace, and +offered him his own house. The Minister of War came up and +congratulated him on the Maria Theresa Order of the third grade, which +the Emperor was conferring on him. The Empress' chamberlain invited +him to see Her Majesty. The archduchess also wished to see him. He did +not know whom to answer, and for a few seconds collected his thoughts. +Then the Russian ambassador took him by the shoulder, led him to the +window, and began to talk to him. + +Contrary to Bilibin's forecast the news he had brought was +joyfully received. A thanksgiving service was arranged, Kutuzov was +awarded the Grand Cross of Maria Theresa, and the whole army +received rewards. Bolkonski was invited everywhere, and had to spend +the whole morning calling on the principal Austrian dignitaries. +Between four and five in the afternoon, having made all his calls, +he was returning to Bilibin's house thinking out a letter to his +father about the battle and his visit to Brunn. At the door he found a +vehicle half full of luggage. Franz, Bilibin's man, was dragging a +portmanteau with some difficulty out of the front door. + +Before returning to Bilibin's Prince Andrew had gone to bookshop +to provide himself with some books for the campaign, and had spent +some time in the shop. + +"What is it?" he asked. + +"Oh, your excellency!" said Franz, with difficulty rolling the +portmanteau into the vehicle, "we are to move on still farther. The +scoundrel is again at our heels!" + +"Eh? What?" asked Prince Andrew. + +Bilibin came out to meet him. His usually calm face showed +excitement. + +"There now! Confess that this is delightful," said he. "This +affair of the Thabor Bridge, at Vienna.... They have crossed without +striking a blow!" + +Prince Andrew could not understand. + +"But where do you come from not to know what every coachman in the +town knows?" + +"I come from the archduchess'. I heard nothing there." + +"And you didn't see that everybody is packing up?" + +"I did not... What is it all about?" inquired Prince Andrew +impatiently. + +"What's it all about? Why, the French have crossed the bridge that +Auersperg was defending, and the bridge was not blown up: so Murat +is now rushing along the road to Brunn and will be here in a day or +two." + +"What? Here? But why did they not blow up the bridge, if it was +mined?" + +"That is what I ask you. No one, not even Bonaparte, knows why." + +Bolkonski shrugged his shoulders. + +"But if the bridge is crossed it means that the army too is lost? It +will be cut off," said he. + +"That's just it," answered Bilibin. "Listen! The French entered +Vienna as I told you. Very well. Next day, which was yesterday, +those gentlemen, messieurs les marechaux,~^ Murat, Lannes,and Belliard, +mount and ride to bridge. (Observe that all three are Gascons.) +'Gentlemen,' says one of them, 'you know the Thabor Bridge is mined +and doubly mined and that there are menacing fortifications at its +head and an army of fifteen thousand men has been ordered to blow up +the bridge and not let us cross? But it will please our sovereign +the Emperor Napoleon if we take this bridge, so let us three go and +take it!' 'Yes, let's!' say the others. And off they go and take the +bridge, cross it, and now with their whole army are on this side of +the Danube, marching on us, you, and your lines of communication." + +^~ The marshalls. + +"Stop jesting," said Prince Andrew sadly and seriously. This news +grieved him and yet he was pleased. + +As soon as he learned that the Russian army was in such a hopeless +situation it occurred to him that it was he who was destined to lead +it out of this position; that here was the Toulon that would lift +him from the ranks of obscure officers and offer him the first step to +fame! Listening to Bilibin he was already imagining how on reaching +the army he would give an opinion at the war council which would be +the only one that could save the army, and how he alone would be +entrusted with the executing of the plan. + +"Stop this jesting," he said + +"I am not jesting," Bilibin went on. "Nothing is truer or sadder. +These gentlemen ride onto the bridge alone and wave white +handkerchiefs; they assure the officer on duty that they, the +marshals, are on their way to negotiate with Prince Auersperg. He lets +them enter the tete-de-pont.~^ They spin him a thousand gasconades, +saying that the war is over, that the Emperor Francis is arranging a +meeting with Bonaparte, that they desire to see Prince Auersperg, +and so on. The officer sends for Auersperg; these gentlemen embrace +the officers, crack jokes, sit on the cannon, and meanwhile a French +battalion gets to the bridge unobserved, flings the bags of incendiary +material into the water, and approaches the tete-de-pont. At length +appears the lieutenant general, our dear Prince Auersperg von +Mautern himself. 'Dearest foe! Flower of the Austrian army, hero of +the Turkish wars Hostilities are ended, we can shake one another's +hand.... The Emperor Napoleon burns with impatience to make Prince +Auersperg's acquaintance.' In a word, those gentlemen, Gascons indeed, +so bewildered him with fine words, and he is so flattered by his +rapidly established intimacy with the French marshals, and so +dazzled by the sight of Murat's mantle and ostrich plumes, qu'il n'y +voit que du feu, et oublie celui qu'il devait faire faire sur +l'ennemi!"~^ In spite of the animation of his speech, Bilibin did +not forget to pause after this mot to give time for its due +appreciation. "The French battalion rushes to the bridgehead, spikes +the guns, and the bridge is taken! But what is best of all," he went +on, his excitement subsiding under the delightful interest of his +own story, "is that the sergeant in charge of the cannon which was +to give the signal to fire the mines and blow up the bridge, this +sergeant, seeing that the French troops were running onto the +bridge, was about to fire, but Lannes stayed his hand. The sergeant, +who was evidently wiser than his general, goes up to Auersperg and +says: 'Prince, you are being deceived, here are the French!' Murat, +seeing that all is lost if the sergeant is allowed to speak, turns +to Auersperg with feigned astonishment (he is a true Gascon) and says: +'I don't recognize the world-famous Austrian discipline, if you +allow a subordinate to address you like that!' It was a stroke of +genius. Prince Auersperg feels his dignity at stake and orders the +sergeant to be arrested. Come, you must own that this affair of the +Thabor Bridge is delightful! It is not exactly stupidity, nor +rascality...." + +^~ Bridgehead. + +^~ That their fire gets into his eyes and he forgets that he ought +to be firing at the enemy. + +"It may be treachery," said Prince Andrew, vividly imagining the +gray overcoats, wounds, the smoke of gunpowder, the sounds of +firing, and the glory that awaited him. + +"Not that either. That puts the court in too bad a light," replied +Bilibin."It's not treachery nor rascality nor stupidity: it is just as +at Ulm... it is..."- he seemed to be trying to find the right +expression. "C'est... c'est du Mack. Nous sommes mackes [It is... it +is a bit of Mack. We are Macked]," he concluded, feeling that he had +produced a good epigram, a fresh one that would be repeated. His +hitherto puckered brow became smooth as a sign of pleasure, and with a +slight smile he began to examine his nails. + +"Where are you off to?" he said suddenly to Prince Andrew who had +risen and was going toward his room. + +"I am going away." + +"Where to?" + +"To the army." + +"But you meant to stay another two days?" + +"But now I am off at once." + +And Prince Andrew after giving directions about his departure went +to his room. + +"Do you know, mon cher," said Bilibin following him, "I have been +thinking about you. Why are you going?" + +And in proof of the conclusiveness of his opinion all the wrinkles +vanished from his face. + +Prince Andrew looked inquiringly at him and gave no reply. + +"Why are you going? I know you think it your duty to gallop back +to the army now that it is in danger. I understand that. Mon cher, +it is heroism!" + +"Not at all," said Prince Andrew. + +"But as you are a philosopher, be a consistent one, look at the +other side of the question and you will see that your duty, on the +contrary, is to take care of yourself. Leave it to those who are no +longer fit for anything else.... You have not been ordered to return +and have not been dismissed from here; therefore, you can stay and +go with us wherever our ill luck takes us. They say we are going to +Olmutz, and Olmutz is a very decent town. You and I will travel +comfortably in my caleche." + +"Do stop joking, Bilibin," cried Bolkonski. + +"I am speaking sincerely as a friend! Consider! Where and why are +you going, when you might remain here? You are faced by one of two +things," and the skin over his left temple puckered, "either you +will not reach your regiment before peace is concluded, or you will +share defeat and disgrace with Kutuzov's whole army." + +And Bilibin unwrinkled his temple, feeling that the dilemma was +insoluble. + +"I cannot argue about it," replied Prince Andrew coldly, but he +thought: "I am going to save the army." + +"My dear fellow, you are a hero!" said Bilibin. + +CHAPTER XIII + +That same night, having taken leave of the Minister of War, +Bolkonski set off to rejoin the army, not knowing where he would +find it and fearing to be captured by the French on the way to Krems. + +In Brunn everybody attached to the court was packing up, and the +heavy baggage was already being dispatched to Olmutz. Near Hetzelsdorf +Prince Andrew struck the high road along which the Russian army was +moving with great haste and in the greatest disorder. The road was +so obstructed with carts that it was impossible to get by in a +carriage. Prince Andrew took a horse and a Cossack from a Cossack +commander, and hungry and weary, making his way past the baggage +wagons, rode in search of the commander in chief and of his own +luggage. Very sinister reports of the position of the army reached him +as he went along, and the appearance of the troops in their disorderly +flight confirmed these rumors. + +"Cette armee russe que l'or de l'Angleterre a transportee des +extremites de l'univers, nous allons lui faire eprouver le meme +sort- (le sort de l'armee d'Ulm)."~^ He remembered these words in +Bonaparte's address to his army at the beginning of the campaign, +and they awoke in him astonishment at the genius of his hero, a +feeling of wounded pride, and a hope of glory. "And should there be +nothing left but to die?" he thought. "Well, if need be, I shall do it +no worse than others." + +^~ "That Russian army which has been brought from the ends of the +earth by English gold, we shall cause to share the same fate- (the +fate of the army at Ulm)." + +He looked with disdain at the endless confused mass of +detachments, carts, guns, artillery, and again baggage wagons and +vehicles of all kinds overtaking one another and blocking the muddy +road, three and sometimes four abreast. From all sides, behind and +before, as far as ear could reach, there were the rattle of wheels, +the creaking of carts and gun carriages, the tramp of horses, the +crack of whips, shouts, the urging of horses, and the swearing of +soldiers, orderlies, and officers. All along the sides of the road +fallen horses were to be seen, some flayed, some not, and +broken-down carts beside which solitary soldiers sat waiting for +something, and again soldiers straggling from their companies, +crowds of whom set off to the neighboring villages, or returned from +them dragging sheep, fowls, hay, and bulging sacks. At each ascent +or descent of the road the crowds were yet denser and the din of +shouting more incessant. Soldiers floundering knee-deep in mud +pushed the guns and wagons themselves. Whips cracked, hoofs slipped, +traces broke, and lungs were strained with shouting. The officers +directing the march rode backward and forward between the carts. Their +voices were but feebly heard amid the uproar and one saw by their +faces that they despaired of the possibility of checking this +disorder. + +"Here is our dear Orthodox Russian army," thought Bolkonski, +recalling Bilibin's words. + +Wishing to find out where the commander in chief was, he rode up +to a convoy. Directly opposite to him came a strange one-horse +vehicle, evidently rigged up by soldiers out of any available +materials and looking like something between a cart, a cabriolet, +and a caleche. A soldier was driving, and a woman enveloped in +shawls sat behind the apron under the leather hood of the vehicle. +Prince Andrew rode up and was just putting his question to a soldier +when his attention was diverted by the desperate shrieks of the +woman in the vehicle. An officer in charge of transport was beating +the soldier who was driving the woman's vehicle for trying to get +ahead of others, and the strokes of his whip fell on the apron of +the equipage. The woman screamed piercingly. Seeing Prince Andrew +she leaned out from behind the apron and, waving her thin arms from +under the woolen shawl, cried: + +"Mr. Aide-de-camp! Mr. Aide-de-camp!... For heaven's sake... Protect +me! What will become of us? I am the wife of the doctor of the Seventh +Chasseurs.... They won't let us pass, we are left behind and have lost +our people..." + +"I'll flatten you into a pancake!" shouted the angry officer to +the soldier. "Turn back with your slut!" + +"Mr. Aide-de-camp! Help me!... What does it all mean?" screamed +the doctor's wife. + +"Kindly let this cart pass. Don't you see it's a woman?" said Prince +Andrew riding up to the officer. + +The officer glanced at him, and without replying turned again to the +soldier. "I'll teach you to push on!... Back!" + +"Let them pass, I tell you!" repeated Prince Andrew, compressing his +lips. + +"And who are you?" cried the officer, turning on him with tipsy +rage, "who are you? Are you in command here? Eh? I am commander +here, not you! Go back or I'll flatten you into a pancake," repeated +he. This expression evidently pleased him. + +"That was a nice snub for the little aide-de-camp," came a voice +from behind. + +Prince Andrew saw that the officer was in that state of senseless, +tipsy rage when a man does not know what he is saying. He saw that his +championship of the doctor's wife in her queer trap might expose him +to what he dreaded more than anything in the world- to ridicule; but +his instinct urged him on. Before the officer finished his sentence +Prince Andrew, his face distorted with fury, rode up to him and raised +his riding whip. + +"Kind...ly let- them- pass!" + +The officer flourished his arm and hastily rode away. + +"It's all the fault of these fellows on the staff that there's +this disorder," he muttered. "Do as you like." + +Prince Andrew without lifting his eyes rode hastily away from the +doctor's wife, who was calling him her deliverer, and recalling with a +sense of disgust the minutest details of this humiliating scene he +galloped on to the village where he was told that the commander in +chief was. + +On reaching the village he dismounted and went to the nearest house, +intending to rest if but for a moment, eat something, and try to +sort out the stinging and tormenting thoughts that confused his +mind. "This is a mob of scoundrels and not an army," he was thinking +as he went up to the window of the first house, when a familiar +voice called him by name. + +He turned round. Nesvitski's handsome face looked out of the +little window. Nesvitski, moving his moist lips as he chewed +something, and flourishing his arm, called him to enter. + +"Bolkonski! Bolkonski!... Don't you hear? Eh? Come quick..." he +shouted. + +Entering the house, Prince Andrew saw Nesvitski and another adjutant +having something to eat. They hastily turned round to him asking if he +had any news. On their familiar faces he read agitation and alarm. +This was particularly noticeable on Nesvitski's usually laughing +countenance. + +"Where is the commander in chief?" asked Bolkonski. + +"Here, in that house," answered the adjutant. + +"Well, is it true that it's peace and capitulation?" asked +Nesvitski. + +"I was going to ask you. I know nothing except that it was all I +could do to get here." + +"And we, my dear boy! It's terrible! I was wrong to laugh at Mack, +we're getting it still worse," said Nesvitski. "But sit down and +have something to eat." + +"You won't be able to find either your baggage or anything else now, +Prince. And God only knows where your man Peter is," said the other +adjutant. + +"Where are headquarters?" + +"We are to spend the night in Znaim." + +"Well, I have got all I need into packs for two horses," said +Nesvitski. "They've made up splendid packs for me- fit to cross the +Bohemian mountains with. It's a bad lookout, old fellow! But what's +the matter with you? You must be ill to shiver like that," he added, +noticing that Prince Andrew winced as at an electric shock. + +"It's nothing," replied Prince Andrew. + +He had just remembered his recent encounter with the doctor's wife +and the convoy officer. + +"What is the commander in chief doing here?" he asked. + +"I can't make out at all," said Nesvitski. + +"Well, all I can make out is that everything is abominable, +abominable, quite abominable!" said Prince Andrew, and he went off +to the house where the commander in chief was. + +Passing by Kutuzov's carriage and the exhausted saddle horses of his +suite, with their Cossacks who were talking loudly together, Prince +Andrew entered the passage. Kutuzov himself, he was told, was in the +house with Prince Bagration and Weyrother. Weyrother was the +Austrian general who had succeeded Schmidt. In the passage little +Kozlovski was squatting on his heels in front of a clerk. The clerk, +with cuffs turned up, was hastily writing at a tub turned bottom +upwards. Kozlovski's face looked worn- he too had evidently not +slept all night. He glanced at Prince Andrew and did not even nod to +him. + +"Second line... have you written it?" he continued dictating to +the clerk. "The Kiev Grenadiers, Podolian..." + +"One can't write so fast, your honor," said the clerk, glancing +angrily and disrespectfully at Kozlovski. + +Through the door came the sounds of Kutuzov's voice, excited and +dissatisfied, interrupted by another, an unfamiliar voice. From the +sound of these voices, the inattentive way Kozlovski looked at him, +the disrespectful manner of the exhausted clerk, the fact that the +clerk and Kozlovski were squatting on the floor by a tub so near to +the commander in chief, and from the noisy laughter of the Cossacks +holding the horses near the window, Prince Andrew felt that +something important and disastrous was about to happen. + +He turned to Kozlovski with urgent questions. + +"Immediately, Prince," said Kozlovski. "Dispositions for Bagration." + +"What about capitulation?" + +"Nothing of the sort. Orders are issued for a battle." + +Prince Andrew moved toward the door from whence voices were heard. +Just as he was going to open it the sounds ceased, the door opened, +and Kutuzov with his eagle nose and puffy face appeared in the +doorway. Prince Andrew stood right in front of Kutuzov but the +expression of the commander in chief's one sound eye showed him to +be so preoccupied with thoughts and anxieties as to be oblivious of +his presence. He looked straight at his adjutant's face without +recognizing him. + +"Well, have you finished?" said he to Kozlovski. + +"One moment, your excellency." + +Bagration, a gaunt middle-aged man of medium height with a firm, +impassive face of Oriental type, came out after the commander in +chief. + +"I have the honor to present myself," repeated Prince Andrew +rather loudly, handing Kutuzov an envelope. + +Ah, from Vienna? Very good. Later, later!" + +Kutuzov went out into the porch with Bagration. + +"Well, good-by, Prince," said he to Bagration. "My blessing, and may +Christ be with you in your great endeavor!" + +His face suddenly softened and tears came into his eyes. With his +left hand he drew Bagration toward him, and with his right, on which +he wore a ring, he made the sign of the cross over him with a +gesture evidently habitual, offering his puffy cheek, but Bagration +kissed him on the neck instead. + +"Christ be with you!" Kutuzov repeated and went toward his carriage. +"Get in with me," said he to Bolkonski. + +"Your excellency, I should like to be of use here. Allow me to +remain with Prince Bagration's detachment." + +"Get in," said Kutuzov, and noticing that Bolkonski still delayed, +he added: "I need good officers myself, need them myself!" + +They got into the carriage and drove for a few minutes in silence. + +"There is still much, much before us," he said, as if with an old +man's penetration he understood all that was passing in Bolkonski's +mind. "If a tenth part of his detachment returns I shall thank God," +he added as if speaking to himself. + +Prince Andrew glanced at Kutuzov's face only a foot distant from him +and involuntarily noticed the carefully washed seams of the scar +near his temple, where an Ismail bullet had pierced his skull, and the +empty eye socket. "Yes, he has a right to speak so calmly of those +men's death," thought Bolkonski. + +"That is why I beg to be sent to that detachment," he said. + +Kutuzov did not reply. He seemed to have forgotten what he had +been saying, and sat plunged in thought. Five minutes later, gently +swaying on the soft springs of the carriage, he turned to Prince +Andrew. There was not a trace of agitation on his face. With +delicate irony he questioned Prince Andrew about the details of his +interview with the Emperor, about the remarks he had heard at court +concerning the Krems affair, and about some ladies they both knew. + +CHAPTER XIV + +On November 1 Kutuzov had received, through a spy, news that the +army he commanded was in an almost hopeless position. The spy reported +that the French, after crossing the bridge at Vienna, were advancing +in immense force upon Kutuzov's line of communication with the +troops that were arriving from Russia. If Kutuzov decided to remain at +Krems, Napoleon's army of one hundred and fifty thousand men would cut +him off completely and surround his exhausted army of forty +thousand, and he would find himself in the position of Mack at Ulm. If +Kutuzov decided to abandon the road connecting him with the troops +arriving from Russia, he would have to march with no road into unknown +parts of the Bohemian mountains, defending himself against superior +forces of the enemy and abandoning all hope of a junction with +Buxhowden. If Kutuzov decided to retreat along the road from Krems +to Olmutz, to unite with the troops arriving from Russia, he risked +being forestalled on that road by the French who had crossed the +Vienna bridge, and encumbered by his baggage and transport, having +to accept battle on the march against an enemy three times as +strong, who would hem him in from two sides. + +Kutuzov chose this latter course. + +The French, the spy reported, having crossed the Vienna bridge, were +advancing by forced marches toward Znaim, which lay sixty-six miles +off on the line of Kutuzov's retreat. If he reached Znaim before the +French, there would be great hope of saving the army; to let the +French forestall him at Znaim meant the exposure of his whole army +to a disgrace such as that of Ulm, or to utter destruction. But to +forestall the French with his whole army was impossible. The road +for the French from Vienna to Znaim was shorter and better than the +road for the Russians from Krems to Znaim. + +The night he received the news, Kutuzov sent Bagration's vanguard, +four thousand strong, to the right across the hills from the +Krems-Znaim to the Vienna-Znaim road. Bagration was to make this march +without resting, and to halt facing Vienna with Znaim to his rear, and +if he succeeded in forestalling the French he was to delay them as +long as possible. Kutuzov himself with all his transport took the road +to Znaim. + +Marching thirty miles that stormy night across roadless hills, +with his hungry, ill-shod soldiers, and losing a third of his men as +stragglers by the way, Bagration came out on the Vienna-Znaim road +at Hollabrunn a few hours ahead of the French who were approaching +Hollabrunn from Vienna. Kutuzov with his transport had still to +march for some days before he could reach Znaim. Hence Bagration +with his four thousand hungry, exhausted men would have to detain +for days the whole enemy army that came upon him at Hollabrunn, +which was clearly impossible. But a freak of fate made the +impossible possible. The success of the trick that had placed the +Vienna bridge in the hands of the French without a fight led Murat +to try to deceive Kutuzov in a similar way. Meeting Bagration's weak +detachment on the Znaim road he supposed it to be Kutuzov's whole +army. To be able to crush it absolutely he awaited the arrival of +the rest of the troops who were on their way from Vienna, and with +this object offered a three days' truce on condition that both +armies should remain in position without moving. Murat declared that +negotiations for peace were already proceeding, and that he +therefore offered this truce to avoid unnecessary bloodshed. Count +Nostitz, the Austrian general occupying the advanced posts, believed +Murat's emissary and retired, leaving Bagration's division exposed. +Another emissary rode to the Russian line to announce the peace +negotiations and to offer the Russian army the three days' truce. +Bagration replied that he was not authorized either to accept or +refuse a truce and sent his adjutant to Kutuzov to report the offer he +had received. + +A truce was Kutuzov's sole chance of gaining time, giving +Bagration's exhausted troops some rest, and letting the transport +and heavy convoys (whose movements were concealed from the French) +advance if but one stage nearer Znaim. The offer of a truce gave the +only, and a quite unexpected, chance of saving the army. On +receiving the news he immediately dispatched Adjutant General +Wintzingerode, who was in attendance on him, to the enemy camp. +Wintzingerode was not merely to agree to the truce but also to offer +terms of capitulation, and meanwhile Kutuzov sent his adjutants back +to hasten to the utmost the movements of the baggage trains of the +entire army along the Krems-Znaim road. Bagration's exhausted and +hungry detachment, which alone covered this movement of the +transport and of the whole army, had to remain stationary in face of +an enemy eight times as strong as itself. + +Kutuzov's expectations that the proposals of capitulation (which +were in no way binding) might give time for part of the transport to +pass, and also that Murat's mistake would very soon be discovered, +proved correct. As soon as Bonaparte (who was at Schonbrunn, sixteen +miles from Hollabrunn) received Murat's dispatch with the proposal +of a truce and a capitulation, he detected a ruse and wrote the +following letter to Murat: + +Schonbrunn, 25th Brumaire, 1805, + +at eight o'clock in the morning + +To PRINCE MURAT, + +I cannot find words to express to you my displeasure. You command +only my advance guard, and have no right to arrange an armistice +without my order. You are causing me to lose the fruits of a campaign. +Break the armistice immediately and march on the enemy. Inform him +that the general who signed that capitulation had no right to do so, +and that no one but the Emperor of Russia has that right. + +If, however, the Emperor of Russia ratifies that convention, I +will ratify it; but it is only a trick. March on, destroy the +Russian army.... You are in a position to seize its baggage and +artillery. + +The Russian Emperor's aide-de-camp is an impostor. Officers are +nothing when they have no powers; this one had none.... The +Austrians let themselves be tricked at the crossing of the Vienna +bridge, you are letting yourself be tricked by an aide-de-camp of +the Emperor. + +NAPOLEON + +Bonaparte's adjutant rode full gallop with this menacing letter to +Murat. Bonaparte himself, not trusting to his generals, moved with all +the Guards to the field of battle, afraid of letting a ready victim +escape, and Bagration's four thousand men merrily lighted campfires, +dried and warmed themselves, cooked their porridge for the first +time for three days, and not one of them knew or imagined what was +in store for him. + +CHAPTER XV + +Between three and four o'clock in the afternoon Prince Andrew, who +had persisted in his request to Kutuzov, arrived at Grunth and +reported himself to Bagration. Bonaparte's adjutant had not yet +reached Murat's detachment and the battle had not yet begun. In +Bagration's detachment no one knew anything of the general position of +affairs. They talked of peace but did not believe in its +possibility; others talked of a battle but also disbelieved in the +nearness of an engagement. Bagration, knowing Bolkonski to be a +favorite and trusted adjutant, received him with distinction and +special marks of favor, explaining to him that there would probably be +an engagement that day or the next, and giving him full liberty to +remain with him during the battle or to join the rearguard and have an +eye on the order of retreat, "which is also very important." + +"However, there will hardly be an engagement today," said +Bagration as if to reassure Prince Andrew. + +"If he is one of the ordinary little staff dandies sent to earn a +medal he can get his reward just as well in the rearguard, but if he +wishes to stay with me, let him... he'll be of use here if he's a +brave officer," thought Bagration. Prince Andrew, without replying, +asked the prince's permission to ride round the position to see the +disposition of the forces, so as to know his bearings should he be +sent to execute an order. The officer on duty, a handsome, elegantly +dressed man with a diamond ring on his forefinger, who was fond of +speaking French though he spoke it badly, offered to conduct Prince +Andrew. + +On all sides they saw rain-soaked officers with dejected faces who +seemed to be seeking something, and soldiers dragging doors, +benches, and fencing from the village. + +"There now, Prince! We can't stop those fellows," said the staff +officer pointing to the soldiers. "The officers don't keep them in +hand. And there," he pointed to a sutler's tent, "they crowd in and +sit. This morning I turned them all out and now look, it's full again. +I must go there, Prince, and scare them a bit. It won't take a +moment." + +"Yes, let's go in and I will get myself a roll and some cheese," +said Prince Andrew who had not yet had time to eat anything. + +"Why didn't you mention it, Prince? I would have offered you +something." + +They dismounted and entered the tent. Several officers, with flushed +and weary faces, were sitting at the table eating and drinking. + +"Now what does this mean, gentlemen?" said the staff officer, in the +reproachful tone of a man who has repeated the same thing more than +once. "You know it won't do to leave your posts like this. The +prince gave orders that no one should leave his post. Now you, +Captain," and he turned to a thin, dirty little artillery officer +who without his boots (he had given them to the canteen keeper to +dry), in only his stockings, rose when they entered, smiling not +altogether comfortably. + +"Well, aren't you ashamed of yourself, Captain Tushin?" he +continued. "One would think that as an artillery officer you would set +a good example, yet here you are without your boots! The alarm will be +sounded and you'll be in a pretty position without your boots!" (The +staff officer smiled.) "Kindly return to your posts, gentlemen, all of +you, all!" he added in a tone of command. + +Prince Andrew smiled involuntarily as he looked at the artillery +officer Tushin, who silent and smiling, shifting from one stockinged +foot to the other, glanced inquiringly with his large, intelligent, +kindly eyes from Prince Andrew to the staff officer. + +"The soldiers say it feels easier without boots," said Captain +Tushin smiling shyly in his uncomfortable position, evidently +wishing to adopt a jocular tone. But before he had finished he felt +that his jest was unacceptable and had not come off. He grew confused. + +"Kindly return to your posts," said the staff officer trying to +preserve his gravity. + +Prince Andrew glanced again at the artillery officer's small figure. +There was something peculiar about it, quite unsoldierly, rather +comic, but extremely attractive. + +The staff officer and Prince Andrew mounted their horses and rode +on. + +Having ridden beyond the village, continually meeting and overtaking +soldiers and officers of various regiments, they saw on their left +some entrenchments being thrown up, the freshly dug clay of which +showed up red. Several battalions of soldiers, in their shirt +sleeves despite the cold wind, swarmed in these earthworks like a host +of white ants; spadefuls of red clay were continually being thrown +up from behind the bank by unseen hands. Prince Andrew and the officer +rode up, looked at the entrenchment, and went on again. Just behind it +they came upon some dozens of soldiers, continually replaced by +others, who ran from the entrenchment. They had to hold their noses +and put their horses to a trot to escape from the poisoned +atmosphere of these latrines. + +"Voila l'agrement des camps, monsieur le Prince,"~^ said the staff +officer. + +^~ "This is a pleasure one gets in camp, Prince." + +They rode up the opposite hill. From there the French could +already be seen. Prince Andrew stopped and began examining the +position. + +"That's our battery," said the staff officer indicating the +highest point. "It's in charge of the queer fellow we saw without +his boots. You can see everything from there; let's go there, Prince." + +"Thank you very much, I will go on alone," said Prince Andrew, +wishing to rid himself of this staff officer's company, "please +don't trouble yourself further." + +The staff officer remained behind and Prince Andrew rode on alone. + +The farther forward and nearer the enemy he went, the more orderly +and cheerful were the troops. The greatest disorder and depression had +been in the baggage train he had passed that morning on the Znaim road +seven miles away from the French. At Grunth also some apprehension and +alarm could be felt, but the nearer Prince Andrew came to the French +lines the more confident was the appearance of our troops. The +soldiers in their greatcoats were ranged in lines, the sergeants major +and company officers were counting the men, poking the last man in +each section in the ribs and telling him to hold his hand up. Soldiers +scattered over the whole place were dragging logs and brushwood and +were building shelters with merry chatter and laughter; around the +fires sat others, dressed and undressed, drying their shirts and leg +bands or mending boots or overcoats and crowding round the boilers and +porridge cookers. In one company dinner was ready, and the soldiers +were gazing eagerly at the steaming boiler, waiting till the sample, +which a quartermaster sergeant was carrying in a wooden bowl to an +officer who sat on a log before his shelter, had been tasted. + +Another company, a lucky one for not all the companies had vodka, +crowded round a pock-marked, broad-shouldered sergeant major who, +tilting a keg, filled one after another the canteen lids held out to +him. The soldiers lifted the canteen lids to their lips with +reverential faces, emptied them, rolling the vodka in their mouths, +and walked away from the sergeant major with brightened expressions, +licking their lips and wiping them on the sleeves of their greatcoats. +All their faces were as serene as if all this were happening at home +awaiting peaceful encampment, and not within sight of the enemy before +an action in which at least half of them would be left on the field. +After passing a chasseur regiment and in the lines of the Kiev +grenadiers- fine fellows busy with similar peaceful affairs- near +the shelter of the regimental commander, higher than and different +from the others, Prince Andrew came out in front of a platoon of +grenadiers before whom lay a naked man. Two soldiers held him while +two others were flourishing their switches and striking him +regularly on his bare back. The man shrieked unnaturally. A stout +major was pacing up and down the line, and regardless of the screams +kept repeating: + +"It's a shame for a soldier to steal; a soldier must be honest, +honorable, and brave, but if he robs his fellows there is no honor +in him, he's a scoundrel. Go on! Go on!" + +So the swishing sound of the strokes, and the desperate but +unnatural screams, continued. + +"Go on, go on!" said the major. + +A young officer with a bewildered and pained expression on his +face stepped away from the man and looked round inquiringly at the +adjutant as he rode by. + +Prince Andrew, having reached the front line, rode along it. Our +front line and that of the enemy were far apart on the right and +left flanks, but in the center where the men with a flag of truce +had passed that morning, the lines were so near together that the +men could see one another's faces and speak to one another. Besides +the soldiers who formed the picket line on either side, there were +many curious onlookers who, jesting and laughing, stared at their +strange foreign enemies. + +Since early morning- despite an injunction not to approach the +picket line- the officers had been unable to keep sight-seers away. +The soldiers forming the picket line, like showmen exhibiting a +curiosity, no longer looked at the French but paid attention to the +sight-seers and grew weary waiting to be relieved. Prince Andrew +halted to have a look at the French. + +"Look! Look there!" one soldier was saying to another, pointing to a +Russian musketeer who had gone up to the picket line with an officer +and was rapidly and excitedly talking to a French grenadier. "Hark +to him jabbering! Fine, isn't it? It's all the Frenchy can do to +keep up with him. There now, Sidorov!" + +"Wait a bit and listen. It's fine!" answered Sidorov, who was +considered an adept at French. + +The soldier to whom the laughers referred was Dolokhov. Prince +Andrew recognized him and stopped to listen to what he was saying. +Dolokhov had come from the left flank where their regiment was +stationed, with his captain. + +"Now then, go on, go on!" incited the officer, bending forward and +trying not to lose a word of the speech which was incomprehensible +to him. "More, please: more! What's he saying?" + +Dolokhov did not answer the captain; he had been drawn into a hot +dispute with the French grenadier. They were naturally talking about +the campaign. The Frenchman, confusing the Austrians with the +Russians, was trying to prove that the Russians had surrendered and +had fled all the way from Ulm, while Dolokhov maintained that the +Russians had not surrendered but had beaten the French. + +"We have orders to drive you off here, and we shall drive you +off," said Dolokhov. + +"Only take care you and your Cossacks are not all captured!" said +the French grenadier. + +The French onlookers and listeners laughed. + +"We'll make you dance as we did under Suvorov...,"~^ said Dolokhov. + +^~ "On vous fera danser." + +"Qu' est-ce qu'il chante?"~^ asked a Frenchman. + +^~ "What's he singing about?" + +"It's ancient history," said another, guessing that it referred to a +former war. "The Emperor will teach your Suvara as he has taught the +others..." + +"Bonaparte..." began Dolokhov, but the Frenchman interrupted him. + +"Not Bonaparte. He is the Emperor! Sacre nom...!" cried he angrily. + +"The devil skin your Emperor." + +And Dolokhov swore at him in coarse soldier's Russian and +shouldering his musket walked away. + +"Let us go, Ivan Lukich," he said to the captain. + +"Ah, that's the way to talk French," said the picket soldiers. "Now, +Sidorov, you have a try!" + +Sidorov, turning to the French, winked, and began to jabber +meaningless sounds very fast: "Kari, mala, tafa, safi, muter, +Kaska," he said, trying to give an expressive intonation to his voice. + +"Ho! ho! ho! Ha! ha! ha! ha! Ouh! ouh!" came peals of such healthy +and good-humored laughter from the soldiers that it infected the +French involuntarily, so much so that the only thing left to do seemed +to be to unload the muskets, muskets, explode the ammunition, and +all return home as quickly as possible. + +But the guns remained loaded, the loopholes in blockhouses and +entrenchments looked out just as menacingly, and the unlimbered cannon +confronted one another as before. + +CHAPTER XVI + +Having ridden round the whole line from right flank to left, +Prince Andrew made his way up to the battery from which the staff +officer had told him the whole field could be seen. Here he +dismounted, and stopped beside the farthest of the four unlimbered +cannon. Before the guns an artillery sentry was pacing up and down; he +stood at attention when the officer arrived, but at a sign resumed his +measured, monotonous pacing. Behind the guns were their limbers and +still farther back picket ropes and artillerymen's bonfires. To the +left, not far from the farthest cannon, was a small, newly constructed +wattle shed from which came the sound of officers' voices in eager +conversation. + +It was true that a view over nearly the whole Russian position and +the greater part of the enemy's opened out from this battery. Just +facing it, on the crest of the opposite hill, the village of Schon +Grabern could be seen, and in three places to left and right the +French troops amid the smoke of their campfires, the greater part of +whom were evidently in the village itself and behind the hill. To +the left from that village, amid the smoke, was something resembling a +battery, but it was impossible to see it clearly with the naked eye. +Our right flank was posted on a rather steep incline which dominated +the French position. Our infantry were stationed there, and at the +farthest point the dragoons. In the center, where Tushin's battery +stood and from which Prince Andrew was surveying the position, was the +easiest and most direct descent and ascent to the brook separating +us from Schon Grabern. On the left our troops were close to a copse, +in which smoked the bonfires of our infantry who were felling wood. +The French line was wider than ours, and it was plain that they +could easily outflank us on both sides. Behind our position was a +steep and deep dip, making it difficult for artillery and cavalry to +retire. Prince Andrew took out his notebook and, leaning on the +cannon, sketched a plan of the position. He made some notes on two +points, intending to mention them to Bagration. His idea was, first, +to concentrate all the artillery in the center, and secondly, to +withdraw the cavalry to the other side of the dip. Prince Andrew, +being always near the commander in chief, closely following the mass +movements and general orders, and constantly studying historical +accounts of battles, involuntarily pictured to himself the course of +events in the forthcoming action in broad outline. He imagined only +important possibilities: "If the enemy attacks the right flank," he +said to himself, "the Kiev grenadiers and the Podolsk chasseurs must +hold their position till reserves from the center come up. In that +case the dragoons could successfully make a flank counterattack. If +they attack our center we, having the center battery on this high +ground, shall withdraw the left flank under its cover, and retreat +to the dip by echelons." So he reasoned.... All the time he had been +beside the gun, he had heard the voices of the officers distinctly, +but as often happens had not understood a word of what they were +saying. Suddenly, however, he was struck by a voice coming from the +shed, and its tone was so sincere that he could not but listen. + +"No, friend," said a pleasant and, as it seemed to Prince Andrew, +a familiar voice, "what I say is that if it were possible to know what +is beyond death, none of us would be afraid of it. That's so, friend." + +Another, a younger voice, interrupted him: "Afraid or not, you can't +escape it anyhow." + +"All the same, one is afraid! Oh, you clever people," said a third +manly voice interrupting them both. "Of course you artillery men are +very wise, because you can take everything along with you- vodka and +snacks." + +And the owner of the manly voice, evidently an infantry officer, +laughed. + +"Yes, one is afraid," continued the first speaker, he of the +familiar voice. "One is afraid of the unknown, that's what it is. +Whatever we may say about the soul going to the sky... we know there +is no sky but only an atmosphere." + +The manly voice again interrupted the artillery officer. + +"Well, stand us some of your herb vodka, Tushin," it said. + +"Why," thought Prince Andrew, "that's the captain who stood up in +the sutler's hut without his boots." He recognized the agreeable, +philosophizing voice with pleasure. + +"Some herb vodka? Certainly!" said Tushin. "But still, to conceive a +future life..." + +He did not finish. Just then there was a whistle in the air; +nearer and nearer, faster and louder, louder and faster, a cannon +ball, as if it had not finished saying what was necessary, thudded +into the ground near the shed with super human force, throwing up a +mass of earth. The ground seemed to groan at the terrible impact. + +And immediately Tushin, with a short pipe in the corner of his mouth +and his kind, intelligent face rather pale, rushed out of the shed +followed by the owner of the manly voice, a dashing infantry officer +who hurried off to his company, buttoning up his coat as he ran. + +CHAPTER XVII + +Mounting his horse again Prince Andrew lingered with the battery, +looking at the puff from the gun that had sent the ball. His eyes +ran rapidly over the wide space, but he only saw that the hitherto +motionless masses of the French now swayed and that there really was a +battery to their left. The smoke above it had not yet dispersed. Two +mounted Frenchmen, probably adjutants, were galloping up the hill. A +small but distinctly visible enemy column was moving down the hill, +probably to strengthen the front line. The smoke of the first shot had +not yet dispersed before another puff appeared, followed by a +report. The battle had begun! Prince Andrew turned his horse and +galloped back to Grunth to find Prince Bagration. He heard the +cannonade behind him growing louder and more frequent. Evidently our +guns had begun to reply. From the bottom of the slope, where the +parleys had taken place, came the report of musketry. + +Lemarrois had just arrived at a gallop with Bonaparte's stern +letter, and Murat, humiliated and anxious to expiate his fault, had at +once moved his forces to attack the center and outflank both the +Russian wings, hoping before evening and before the arrival of the +Emperor to crush the contemptible detachment that stood before him. + +"It has begun. Here it is!" thought Prince Andrew, feeling the blood +rush to his heart. "But where and how will my Toulon present itself?" + +Passing between the companies that had been eating porridge and +drinking vodka a quarter of an hour before, he saw everywhere the same +rapid movement of soldiers forming ranks and getting their muskets +ready, and on all their faces he recognized the same eagerness that +filled his heart. "It has begun! Here it is, dreadful but +enjoyable!" was what the face of each soldier and each officer +seemed to say. + +Before he had reached the embankments that were being thrown up, +he saw, in the light of the dull autumn evening, mounted men coming +toward him. The foremost, wearing a Cossack cloak and lambskin cap and +riding a white horse, was Prince Bagration. Prince Andrew stopped, +waiting for him to come up; Prince Bagration reined in his horse and +recognizing Prince Andrew nodded to him. He still looked ahead while +Prince Andrew told him what he had seen. + +The feeling, "It has begun! Here it is!" was seen even on Prince +Bagration's hard brown face with its half-closed, dull, sleepy eyes. +Prince Andrew gazed with anxious curiosity at that impassive face +and wished he could tell what, if anything, this man was thinking +and feeling at that moment. "Is there anything at all behind that +impassive face?" Prince Andrew asked himself as he looked. Prince +Bagration bent his head in sign of agreement with what Prince Andrew +told him, and said, "Very good!" in a tone that seemed to imply that +everything that took place and was reported to him was exactly what he +had foreseen. Prince Andrew, out of breath with his rapid ride, +spoke quickly. Prince Bagration, uttering his words with an Oriental +accent, spoke particularly slowly, as if to impress the fact that +there was no need to hurry. However, he put his horse to a trot in the +direction of Tushin's battery. Prince Andrew followed with the +suite. Behind Prince Bagration rode an officer of the suite, the +prince's personal adjutant, Zherkov, an orderly officer, the staff +officer on duty, riding a fine bobtailed horse, and a civilian- an +accountant who had asked permission to be present at the battle out of +curiosity. The accountant, a stout, full-faced man, looked around +him with a naive smile of satisfaction and presented a strange +appearance among the hussars, Cossacks, and adjutants, in his camlet +coat, as he jolted on his horse with a convoy officer's saddle. + +"He wants to see a battle," said Zherkov to Bolkonski, pointing to +the accountant, "but he feels a pain in the pit of his stomach +already." + +"Oh, leave off!" said the accountant with a beaming but rather +cunning smile, as if flattered at being made the subject of +Zherkov's joke, and purposely trying to appear stupider than he really +was. + +"It is very strange, mon Monsieur Prince," said the staff officer. +(He remembered that in French there is some peculiar way of addressing +a prince, but could not get it quite right.) + +By this time they were all approaching Tushin's battery, and a +ball struck the ground in front of them. + +"What's that that has fallen?" asked the accountant with a naive +smile. + +"A French pancake," answered Zherkov. + +"So that's what they hit with?" asked the accountant. "How awful!" + +He seemed to swell with satisfaction. He had hardly finished +speaking when they again heard an unexpectedly violent whistling which +suddenly ended with a thud into something soft... f-f-flop! and a +Cossack, riding a little to their right and behind the accountant, +crashed to earth with his horse. Zherkov and the staff officer bent +over their saddles and turned their horses away. The accountant +stopped, facing the Cossack, and examined him with attentive +curiosity. The Cossack was dead, but the horse still struggled. + +Prince Bagration screwed up his eyes, looked round, and, seeing +the cause of the confusion, turned away with indifference, as if to +say, "Is it worth while noticing trifles?" He reined in his horse with +the case of a skillful rider and, slightly bending over, disengaged +his saber which had caught in his cloak. It was an old-fashioned saber +of a kind no longer in general use. Prince Andrew remembered the story +of Suvorov giving his saber to Bagration in Italy, and the +recollection was particularly pleasant at that moment. They had +reached the battery at which Prince Andrew had been when he examined +the battlefield. + +"Whose company?" asked Prince Bagration of an artilleryman +standing by the ammunition wagon. + +He asked, "Whose company?" but he really meant, "Are you +frightened here?" and the artilleryman understood him. + +"Captain Tushin's, your excellency!" shouted the red-haired, +freckled gunner in a merry voice, standing to attention. + +"Yes, yes," muttered Bagration as if considering something, and he +rode past the limbers to the farthest cannon. + +As he approached, a ringing shot issued from it deafening him and +his suite, and in the smoke that suddenly surrounded the gun they +could see the gunners who had seized it straining to roll it quickly +back to its former position. A huge, broad-shouldered gunner, Number +One, holding a mop, his legs far apart, sprang to the wheel; while +Number Two with a trembling hand placed a charge in the cannon's +mouth. The short, round-shouldered Captain Tushin, stumbling over +the tail of the gun carriage, moved forward and, not noticing the +general, looked out shading his eyes with his small hand. + +"Lift it two lines more and it will be just right," cried he in a +feeble voice to which he tried to impart a dashing note, ill suited to +his weak figure. "Number Two!" he squeaked. "Fire, Medvedev!" + +Bagration called to him, and Tushin, raising three fingers to his +cap with a bashful and awkward gesture not at all like a military +salute but like a priest's benediction, approached the general. Though +Tushin's guns had been intended to cannonade the valley, he was firing +incendiary balls at the village of Schon Grabern visible just +opposite, in front of which large masses of French were advancing. + +No one had given Tushin orders where and at what to fire, but +after consulting his sergeant major, Zakharchenko, for whom he had +great respect, he had decided that it would be a good thing to set +fire to the village. "Very good!" said Bagration in reply to the +officer's report, and began deliberately to examine the whole +battlefield extended before him. The French had advanced nearest on +our right. Below the height on which the Kiev regiment was +stationed, in the hollow where the rivulet flowed, the soul-stirring +rolling and crackling of musketry was heard, and much farther to the +right beyond the dragoons, the officer of the suite pointed out to +Bagration a French column that was outflanking us. To the left the +horizon bounded by the adjacent wood. Prince Bagration ordered two +battalions from the center to be sent to reinforce the right flank. +The officer of the suite ventured to remark to the prince that if +these battalions went away, the guns would remain without support. +Prince Bagration turned to the officer and with his dull eyes looked +at him in silence. It seemed to Prince Andrew that the officer's +remark was just and that really no answer could be made to it. But +at that moment an adjutant galloped up with a message from the +commander of the regiment in the hollow and news that immense masses +of the French were coming down upon them and that his regiment was +in disorder and was retreating upon the Kiev grenadiers. Prince +Bagration bowed his head in sign of assent and approval. He rode off +at a walk to the right and sent an adjutant to the dragoons with +orders to attack the French. But this adjutant returned half an hour +later with the news that the commander of the dragoons had already +retreated beyond the dip in the ground, as a heavy fire had been +opened on him and he was losing men uselessly, and so had hastened +to throw some sharpshooters into the wood. + +"Very good!" said Bagration. + +As he was leaving the battery, firing was heard on the left also, +and as it was too far to the left flank for him to have time to go +there himself, Prince Bagration sent Zherkov to tell the general in +command (the one who had paraded his regiment before Kutuzov at +Braunau) that he must retreat as quickly as possible behind the hollow +in the rear, as the right flank would probably not be able to +withstand the enemy's attack very long. About Tushin and the battalion +that had been in support of his battery all was forgotten. Prince +Andrew listened attentively to Bagration's colloquies with the +commanding officers and the orders he gave them and, to his +surprise, found that no orders were really given, but that Prince +Bagration tried to make it appear that everything done by necessity, +by accident, or by the will of subordinate commanders was done, if not +by his direct command, at least in accord with his intentions. +Prince Andrew noticed, however, that though what happened was due to +chance and was independent of the commander's will, owing to the +tact Bagration showed, his presence was very valuable. Officers who +approached him with disturbed countenances became calm; soldiers and +officers greeted him gaily, grew more cheerful in his presence, and +were evidently anxious to display their courage before him. + +CHAPTER XVIII + +Prince Bagration, having reached the highest point of our right +flank, began riding downhill to where the roll of musketry was heard +but where on account of the smoke nothing could be seen. The nearer +they got to the hollow the less they could see but the more they +felt the nearness of the actual battlefield. They began to meet +wounded men. One with a bleeding head and no cap was being dragged +along by two soldiers who supported him under the arms. There was a +gurgle in his throat and he was spitting blood. A bullet had evidently +hit him in the throat or mouth. Another was walking sturdily by +himself but without his musket, groaning aloud and swinging his arm +which had just been hurt, while blood from it was streaming over his +greatcoat as from a bottle. He had that moment been wounded and his +face showed fear rather than suffering. Crossing a road they descended +a steep incline and saw several men lying on the ground; they also met +a crowd of soldiers some of whom were unwounded. The soldiers were +ascending the hill breathing heavily, and despite the general's +presence were talking loudly and gesticulating. In front of them +rows of gray cloaks were already visible through the smoke, and an +officer catching sight of Bagration rushed shouting after the crowd of +retreating soldiers, ordering them back. Bagration rode up to the +ranks along which shots crackled now here and now there, drowning +the sound of voices and the shouts of command. The whole air reeked +with smoke. The excited faces of the soldiers were blackened with +it. Some were using their ramrods, others putting powder on the +touchpans or taking charges from their pouches, while others were +firing, though who they were firing at could not be seen for the smoke +which there was no wind to carry away. A pleasant humming and +whistling of bullets were often heard. "What is this?" thought +Prince Andrew approaching the crowd of soldiers. "It can't be an +attack, for they are not moving; it can't be a square- for they are +not drawn up for that." + +The commander of the regiment, a thin, feeble-looking old man with a +pleasant smile- his eyelids drooping more than half over his old eyes, +giving him a mild expression, rode up to Bagration and welcomed him as +a host welcomes an honored guest. He reported that his regiment had +been attacked by French cavalry and that, though the attack had been +repulsed, he had lost more than half his men. He said the attack had +been repulsed, employing this military term to describe what had +occurred to his regiment, but in reality he did not himself know +what had happened during that half-hour to the troops entrusted to +him, and could not say with certainty whether the attack had been +repulsed or his regiment had been broken up. All he knew was that at +the commencement of the action balls and shells began flying all +over his regiment and hitting men and that afterwards someone had +shouted "Cavalry!" and our men had begun firing. They were still +firing, not at the cavalry which had disappeared, but at French +infantry who had come into the hollow and were firing at our men. +Prince Bagration bowed his head as a sign that this was exactly what +he had desired and expected. Turning to his adjutant he ordered him to +bring down the two battalions of the Sixth Chasseurs whom they had +just passed. Prince Andrew was struck by the changed expression on +Prince Bagration's face at this moment. It expressed the +concentrated and happy resolution you see on the face of a man who +on a hot day takes a final run before plunging into the water. The +dull, sleepy expression was no longer there, nor the affectation of +profound thought. The round, steady, hawk's eyes looked before him +eagerly and rather disdainfully, not resting on anything although +his movements were still slow and measured. + +The commander of the regiment turned to Prince Bagration, entreating +him to go back as it was too dangerous to remain where they were. +"Please, your excellency, for God's sake!" he kept saying, glancing +for support at an officer of the suite who turned away from him. +"There, you see!" and he drew attention to the bullets whistling, +singing, and hissing continually around them. He spoke in the tone +of entreaty and reproach that a carpenter uses to a gentleman who +has picked up an ax: "We are used to it, but you, sir, will blister +your hands." He spoke as if those bullets could not kill him, and +his half-closed eyes gave still more persuasiveness to his words. +The staff officer joined in the colonel's appeals, but Bagration did +not reply; he only gave an order to cease firing and re-form, so as to +give room for the two approaching battalions. While he was speaking, +the curtain of smoke that had concealed the hollow, driven by a rising +wind, began to move from right to left as if drawn by an invisible +hand, and the hill opposite, with the French moving about on it, +opened out before them. All eyes fastened involuntarily on this French +column advancing against them and winding down over the uneven ground. +One could already see the soldiers' shaggy caps, distinguish the +officers from the men, and see the standard flapping against its +staff. + +"They march splendidly," remarked someone in Bagration's suite. + +The head of the column had already descended into the hollow. The +clash would take place on this side of it... + +The remains of our regiment which had been in action rapidly +formed up and moved to the right; from behind it, dispersing the +laggards, came two battalions of the Sixth Chasseurs in fine order. +Before they had reached Bagration, the weighty tread of the mass of +men marching in step could be heard. On their left flank, nearest to +Bagration, marched a company commander, a fine round-faced man, with a +stupid and happy expression- the same man who had rushed out of the +wattle shed. At that moment he was clearly thinking of nothing but how +dashing a fellow he would appear as he passed the commander. + +With the self-satisfaction of a man on parade, he stepped lightly +with his muscular legs as if sailing along, stretching himself to +his full height without the smallest effort, his ease contrasting with +the heavy tread of the soldiers who were keeping step with him. He +carried close to his leg a narrow unsheathed sword (small, curved, and +not like a real weapon) and looked now at the superior officers and +now back at the men without losing step, his whole powerful body +turning flexibly. It was as if all the powers of his soul were +concentrated on passing the commander in the best possible manner, and +feeling that he was doing it well he was happy. "Left... left... +left..." he seemed to repeat to himself at each alternate step; and in +time to this, with stern but varied faces, the wall of soldiers +burdened with knapsacks and muskets marched in step, and each one of +these hundreds of soldiers seemed to be repeating to himself at each +alternate step, "Left... left... left..." A fat major skirted a +bush, puffing and falling out of step; a soldier who had fallen +behind, his face showing alarm at his defection, ran at a trot, +panting to catch up with his company. A cannon ball, cleaving the air, +flew over the heads of Bagration and his suite, and fell into the +column to the measure of "Left... left!" "Close up!" came the +company commander's voice in jaunty tones. The soldiers passed in a +semicircle round something where the ball had fallen, and an old +trooper on the flank, a noncommissioned officer who had stopped beside +the dead men, ran to catch up his line and, falling into step with a +hop, looked back angrily, and through the ominous silence and the +regular tramp of feet beating the ground in unison, one seemed to hear +left... left... left. + +"Well done, lads!" said Prince Bagration. + +"Glad to do our best, your ex'len-lency!" came a confused shout from +the ranks. A morose soldier marching on the left turned his eyes on +Bagration as he shouted, with an expression that seemed to say: "We +know that ourselves!" Another, without looking round, as though +fearing to relax, shouted with his mouth wide open and passed on. + +The order was given to halt and down knapsacks. + +Bagration rode round the ranks that had marched past him and +dismounted. He gave the reins to a Cossack, took off and handed over +his felt coat, stretched his legs, and set his cap straight. The +head of the French column, with its officers leading, appeared from +below the hill. + +"Forward, with God!" said Bagration, in a resolute, sonorous +voice, turning for a moment to the front line, and slightly swinging +his arms, he went forward uneasily over the rough field with the +awkward gait of a cavalryman. Prince Andrew felt that an invisible +power was leading him forward, and experienced great happiness. + +The French were already near. Prince Andrew, walking beside +Bagration, could clearly distinguish their bandoliers, red epaulets, +and even their faces. (He distinctly saw an old French officer who, +with gaitered legs and turned-out toes, climbed the hill with +difficulty.) Prince Bagration gave no further orders and silently +continued to walk on in front of the ranks. Suddenly one shot after +another rang out from the French, smoke appeared all along their +uneven ranks, and musket shots sounded. Several of our men fell, among +them the round-faced officer who had marched so gaily and +complacently. But at the moment the first report was heard, +Bagration looked round and shouted, "Hurrah!" + +"Hurrah- ah!- ah!" rang a long-drawn shout from our ranks, and +passing Bagration and racing one another they rushed in an irregular +but joyous and eager crowd down the hill at their disordered foe. + +CHAPTER XIX + +The attack of the Sixth Chasseurs secured the retreat of our right +flank. In the center Tushin's forgotten battery, which had managed +to set fire to the Schon Grabern village, delayed the French +advance. The French were putting out the fire which the wind was +spreading, and thus gave us time to retreat. The retirement of the +center to the other side of the dip in the ground at the rear was +hurried and noisy, but the different companies did not get mixed. +But our left- which consisted of the Azov and Podolsk infantry and the +Pavlograd hussars- was simultaneously attacked and outflanked by +superior French forces under Lannes and was thrown into confusion. +Bagration had sent Zherkov to the general commanding that left flank +with orders to retreat immediately. + +Zherkov, not removing his hand from his cap, turned his horse +about and galloped off. But no sooner had he left Bagration than his +courage failed him. He was seized by panic and could not go where it +was dangerous. + +Having reached the left flank, instead of going to the front where +the firing was, he began to look for the general and his staff where +they could not possibly be, and so did not deliver the order. + +The command of the left flank belonged by seniority to the commander +of the regiment Kutuzov had reviewed at Braunau and in which +Dolokhov was serving as a private. But the command of the extreme left +flank had been assigned to the commander of the Pavlograd regiment +in which Rostov was serving, and a misunderstanding arose. The two +commanders were much exasperated with one another and, long after +the action had begun on the right flank and the French were already +advancing, were engaged in discussion with the sole object of +offending one another. But the regiments, both cavalry and infantry, +were by no means ready for the impending action. From privates to +general they were not expecting a battle and were engaged in +peaceful occupations, the cavalry feeding the horses and the +infantry collecting wood. + +"He higher iss dan I in rank," said the German colonel of the +hussars, flushing and addressing an adjutant who had ridden up, "so +let him do what he vill, but I cannot sacrifice my hussars... +Bugler, sount ze retreat!" + +But haste was becoming imperative. Cannon and musketry, mingling +together, thundered on the right and in the center, while the +capotes of Lannes' sharpshooters were already seen crossing the +milldam and forming up within twice the range of a musket shot. The +general in command of the infantry went toward his horse with jerky +steps, and having mounted drew himself up very straight and tall and +rode to the Pavlograd commander. The commanders met with polite bows +but with secret malevolence in their hearts. + +"Once again, Colonel," said the general, "I can't leave half my +men in the wood. I beg of you, I beg of you," he repeated, "to +occupy the position and prepare for an attack." + +"I peg of you yourself not to mix in vot is not your business!" +suddenly replied the irate colonel. "If you vere in the cavalry..." + +"I am not in the cavalry, Colonel, but I am a Russian general and if +you are not aware of the fact..." + +"Quite avare, your excellency," suddenly shouted the colonel, +touching his horse and turning purple in the face. "Vill you be so +goot to come to ze front and see dat zis position iss no goot? I don't +vish to destroy my men for your pleasure!" + +"You forget yourself, Colonel. I am not considering my own +pleasure and I won't allow it to be said!" + +Taking the colonel's outburst as a challenge to his courage, the +general expanded his chest and rode, frowning, beside him to the front +line, as if their differences would be settled there amongst the +bullets. They reached the front, several bullets sped over them, and +they halted in silence. There was nothing fresh to be seen from the +line, for from where they had been before it had been evident that +it was impossible for cavalry to act among the bushes and broken +ground, as well as that the French were outflanking our left. The +general and colonel looked sternly and significantly at one another +like two fighting cocks preparing for battle, each vainly trying to +detect signs of cowardice in the other. Both passed the examination +successfully. As there was nothing to said, and neither wished to give +occasion for it to be alleged that he had been the first to leave +the range of fire, they would have remained there for a long time +testing each other's courage had it not been that just then they heard +the rattle of musketry and a muffled shout almost behind them in the +wood. The French had attacked the men collecting wood in the copse. It +was no longer possible for the hussars to retreat with the infantry. +They were cut off from the line of retreat on the left by the +French. However inconvenient the position, it was now necessary to +attack in order to cut away through for themselves. + +The squadron in which Rostov was serving had scarcely time to +mount before it was halted facing the enemy. Again, as at the Enns +bridge, there was nothing between the squadron and the enemy, and +again that terrible dividing line of uncertainty and fear- +resembling the line separating the living from the dead- lay between +them. All were conscious of this unseen line, and the question whether +they would they would cross it or not, and how they would cross it, +agitated them all. + +The colonel rode to the front, angrily gave some reply to +questions put to him by the officers, and, like a man desperately +insisting on having his own way, gave an order. No one said anything +definite, but the rumor of an attack spread through the squadron. +The command to form up rang out and the sabers whizzed as they were +drawn from their scabbards. Still no one moved. The troops of the left +flank, infantry and hussars alike, felt that the commander did not +himself know what to do, and this irresolution communicated itself +to the men. + +"If only they would be quick!" thought Rostov, feeling that at +last the time had come to experience the joy of an attack of which +he had so often heard from his fellow hussars. + +"Fo'ward, with God, lads!" rang out Denisov's voice. "At a twot +fo'ward!" + +The horses' croups began to sway in the front line. Rook pulled at +the reins and started of his own accord. + +Before him, on the right, Rostov saw the front lines of his +hussars and still farther ahead a dark line which he could not see +distinctly but took to be the enemy. Shots could be heard, but some +way off. + +"Faster!" came the word of command, and Rostov felt Rook's flanks +drooping as he broke into a gallop. + +Rostov anticipated his horse's movements and became more and more +elated. He had noticed a solitary tree ahead of him. This tree had +been in the middle of the line that had seemed so terrible- and now he +had crossed that line and not only was there nothing terrible, but +everything was becoming more and more happy and animated. "Oh, how I +will slash at him!" thought Rostov, gripping the hilt of his saber. + +"Hur-a-a-a-ah!" came a roar of voices. "Let anyone come my way now," +thought Rostov driving his spurs into Rook and letting him go at a +full gallop so that he outstripped the others. Ahead, the enemy was +already visible. Suddenly something like a birch broom seemed to sweep +over the squadron. Rostov raised his saber, ready to strike, but at +that instant the trooper Nikitenko, who was galloping ahead, shot away +from him, and Rostov felt as in a dream that he continued to be +carried forward with unnatural speed but yet stayed on the same +spot. From behind him Bondarchuk, an hussar he knew, jolted against +him and looked angrily at him. Bondarchuk's horse swerved and galloped +past. + +"How is it I am not moving? I have fallen, I am killed!" Rostov +asked and answered at the same instant. He was alone in the middle +of a field. Instead of the moving horses and hussars' backs, he saw +nothing before him but the motionless earth and the stubble around +him. There was warm blood under his arm. "No, I am wounded and the +horse is killed." Rook tried to rise on his forelegs but fell back, +pinning his rider's leg. Blood was flowing from his head; he struggled +but could not rise. Rostov also tried to rise but fell back, his +sabretache having become entangled in the saddle. Where our men +were, and where the French, he did not know. There was no one near. + +Having disentangled his leg, he rose. "Where, on which side, was now +the line that had so sharply divided the two armies?" he asked himself +and could not answer. "Can something bad have happened to me?" he +wondered as he got up: and at that moment he felt that something +superfluous was hanging on his benumbed left arm. The wrist felt as if +it were not his. He examined his hand carefully, vainly trying to find +blood on it. "Ah, here are people coming," he thought joyfully, seeing +some men running toward him. "They will help me!" In front came a +man wearing a strange shako and a blue cloak, swarthy, sunburned, +and with a hooked nose. Then came two more, and many more running +behind. One of them said something strange, not in Russian. In among +the hindmost of these men wearing similar shakos was a Russian hussar. +He was being held by the arms and his horse was being led behind him. + +"It must be one of ours, a prisoner. Yes. Can it be that they will +take me too? Who are these men?" thought Rostov, scarcely believing +his eyes. "Can they be French?" He looked at the approaching +Frenchmen, and though but a moment before he had been galloping to get +at them and hack them to pieces, their proximity now seemed so awful +that he could not believe his eyes. "Who are they? Why are they +running? Can they be coming at me? And why? To kill me? Me whom +everyone is so fond of?" He remembered his mother's love for him, +and his family's, and his friends', and the enemy's intention to +kill him seemed impossible. "But perhaps they may do it!" For more +than ten seconds he stood not moving from the spot or realizing the +situation. The foremost Frenchman, the one with the hooked nose, was +already so close that the expression of his face could be seen. And +the excited, alien face of that man, his bayonet hanging down, holding +his breath, and running so lightly, frightened Rostov. He seized his +pistol and, instead of firing it, flung it at the Frenchman and ran +with all his might toward the bushes. He did not now run with the +feeling of doubt and conflict with which he had trodden the Enns +bridge, but with the feeling of a hare fleeing from the hounds. One +single sentiment, that of fear for his young and happy life, possessed +his whole being. Rapidly leaping the furrows, he fled across the field +with the impetuosity he used to show at catchplay, now and then +turning his good-natured, pale, young face to look back. A shudder +of terror went through him: "No, better not look," he thought, but +having reached the bushes he glanced round once more. The French had +fallen behind, and just as he looked round the first man changed his +run to a walk and, turning, shouted something loudly to a comrade +farther back. Rostov paused. "No, there's some mistake," thought he. +"They can't have wanted to kill me." But at the same time, his left +arm felt as heavy as if a seventy-pound weight were tied to it. He +could run no more. The Frenchman also stopped and took aim. Rostov +closed his eyes and stooped down. One bullet and then another whistled +past him. He mustered his last remaining strength, took hold of his +left hand with his right, and reached the bushes. Behind these were +some Russian sharpshooters. + +CHAPTER XX + +The infantry regiments that had been caught unawares in the +outskirts of the wood ran out of it, the different companies getting +mixed, and retreated as a disorderly crowd. One soldier, in his +fear, uttered the senseless cry, "Cut off!" that is so terrible in +battle, and that word infected the whole crowd with a feeling of +panic. + +"Surrounded! Cut off? We're lost!" shouted the fugitives. + +The moment he heard the firing and the cry from behind, the +general realized that something dreadful had happened to his regiment, +and the thought that he, an exemplary officer of many years' service +who had never been to blame, might be held responsible at headquarters +for negligence or inefficiency so staggered him that, forgetting the +recalcitrant cavalry colonel, his own dignity as a general, and +above all quite forgetting the danger and all regard for +self-preservation, he clutched the crupper of his saddle and, spurring +his horse, galloped to the regiment under a hail of bullets which fell +around, but fortunately missed him. His one desire was to know what +was happening and at any cost correct, or remedy, the mistake if he +had made one, so that he, an exemplary officer of twenty-two years' +service, who had never been censured, should not be held to blame. + +Having galloped safely through the French, he reached a field behind +the copse across which our men, regardless of orders, were running and +descending the valley. That moment of moral hesitation which decides +the fate of battles had arrived. Would this disorderly crowd of +soldiers attend to the voice of their commander, or would they, +disregarding him, continue their flight? Despite his desperate +shouts that used to seem so terrible to the soldiers, despite his +furious purple countenance distorted out of all likeness to his former +self, and the flourishing of his saber, the soldiers all continued +to run, talking, firing into the air, and disobeying orders. The moral +hesitation which decided the fate of battles was evidently culminating +in a panic. + +The general had a fit of coughing as a result of shouting and of the +powder smoke and stopped in despair. Everything seemed lost. But at +that moment the French who were attacking, suddenly and without any +apparent reason, ran back and disappeared from the outskirts, and +Russian sharpshooters showed themselves in the copse. It was +Timokhin's company, which alone had maintained its order in the wood +and, having lain in ambush in a ditch, now attacked the French +unexpectedly. Timokhin, armed only with a sword, had rushed at the +enemy with such a desperate cry and such mad, drunken determination +that, taken by surprise, the French had thrown down their muskets +and run. Dolokhov, running beside Timokhin, killed a Frenchman at +close quarters and was the first to seize the surrendering French +officer by his collar. Our fugitives returned, the battalions +re-formed, and the French who had nearly cut our left flank in half +were for the moment repulsed. Our reserve units were able to join +up, and the fight was at an end. The regimental commander and Major +Ekonomov had stopped beside a bridge, letting the retreating companies +pass by them, when a soldier came up and took hold of the +commander's stirrup, almost leaning against him. The man was wearing a +bluish coat of broadcloth, he had no knapsack or cap, his head was +bandaged, and over his shoulder a French munition pouch was slung. +He had an officer's sword in his hand. The soldier was pale, his +blue eyes looked impudently into the commander's face, and his lips +were smiling. Though the commander was occupied in giving instructions +to Major Ekonomov, he could not help taking notice of the soldier. + +"Your excellency, here are two trophies," said Dolokhov, pointing to +the French sword and pouch. "I have taken an officer prisoner. I +stopped the company." Dolokhov breathed heavily from weariness and +spoke in abrupt sentences. "The whole company can bear witness. I +beg you will remember this, your excellency!" + +"All right, all right," replied the commander, and turned to Major +Ekonomov. + +But Dolokhov did not go away; he untied the handkerchief around +his head, pulled it off, and showed the blood congealed on his hair. + +"A bayonet wound. I remained at the front. Remember, your +excellency!" + +Tushin's battery had been forgotten and only at the very end of +the action did Prince Bagration, still hearing the cannonade in the +center, send his orderly staff officer, and later Prince Andrew +also, to order the battery to retire as quickly as possible. When +the supports attached to Tushin's battery had been moved away in the +middle of the action by someone's order, the battery had continued +firing and was only not captured by the French because the enemy could +not surmise that anyone could have the effrontery to continue firing +from four quite undefended guns. On the contrary, the energetic action +of that battery led the French to suppose that here- in the center- +the main Russian forces were concentrated. Twice they had attempted to +attack this point, but on each occasion had been driven back by +grapeshot from the four isolated guns on the hillock. + +Soon after Prince Bagration had left him, Tushin had succeeded in +setting fire to Schon Grabern. + +"Look at them scurrying! It's burning! Just see the smoke! Fine! +Grand! Look at the smoke, the smoke!" exclaimed the artillerymen, +brightening up. + +All the guns, without waiting for orders, were being fired in the +direction of the conflagration. As if urging each other on, the +soldiers cried at each shot: "Fine! That's good! Look at it... Grand!" +The fire, fanned by the breeze, was rapidly spreading. The French +columns that had advanced beyond the village went back; but as +though in revenge for this failure, the enemy placed ten guns to the +right of the village and began firing them at Tushin's battery. + +In their childlike glee, aroused by the fire and their luck in +successfully cannonading the French, our artillerymen only noticed +this battery when two balls, and then four more, fell among our +guns, one knocking over two horses and another tearing off a +munition-wagon driver's leg. Their spirits once roused were, +however, not diminished, but only changed character. The horses were +replaced by others from a reserve gun carriage, the wounded were +carried away, and the four guns were turned against the ten-gun +battery. Tushin's companion officer had been killed at the beginning +of the engagement and within an hour seventeen of the forty men of the +guns' crews had been disabled, but the artillerymen were still as +merry and lively as ever. Twice they noticed the French appearing +below them, and then they fired grapeshot at them. + +Little Tushin, moving feebly and awkwardly, kept telling his orderly +to "refill my pipe for that one!" and then, scattering sparks from it, +ran forward shading his eyes with his small hand to look at the +French. + +"Smack at 'em, lads!" he kept saying, seizing the guns by the wheels +and working the screws himself. + +Amid the smoke, deafened by the incessant reports which always +made him jump, Tushin not taking his pipe from his mouth ran from +gun to gun, now aiming, now counting the charges, now giving orders +about replacing dead or wounded horses and harnessing fresh ones, +and shouting in his feeble voice, so high pitched and irresolute. +His face grew more and more animated. Only when a man was killed or +wounded did he frown and turn away from the sight, shouting angrily at +the men who, as is always the case, hesitated about lifting the +injured or dead. The soldiers, for the most part handsome fellows and, +as is always the case in an artillery company, a head and shoulders +taller and twice as broad as their officer- all looked at their +commander like children in an embarrassing situation, and the +expression on his face was invariably reflected on theirs. + +Owing to the terrible uproar and the necessity for concentration and +activity, Tushin did not experience the slightest unpleasant sense +of fear, and the thought that he might be killed or badly wounded +never occurred to him. On the contrary, he became more and more +elated. It seemed to him that it was a very long time ago, almost a +day, since he had first seen the enemy and fired the first shot, and +that the corner of the field he stood on was well-known and familiar +ground. Though he thought of everything, considered everything, and +did everything the best of officers could do in his position, he was +in a state akin to feverish delirium or drunkenness. + +From the deafening sounds of his own guns around him, the whistle +and thud of the enemy's cannon balls, from the flushed and +perspiring faces of the crew bustling round the guns, from the sight +of the blood of men and horses, from the little puffs of smoke on +the enemy's side (always followed by a ball flying past and striking +the earth, a man, a gun, a horse), from the sight of all these +things a fantastic world of his own had taken possession of his +brain and at that moment afforded him pleasure. The enemy's guns +were in his fancy not guns but pipes from which occasional puffs +were blown by an invisible smoker. + +"There... he's puffing again," muttered Tushin to himself, as a +small cloud rose from the hill and was borne in a streak to the left +by the wind. + +"Now look out for the ball... we'll throw it back." + +"What do you want, your honor?" asked an artilleryman, standing +close by, who heard him muttering. + +"Nothing... only a shell..." he answered. + +"Come along, our Matvevna!" he said to himself. "Matvevna"~^ was +the name his fancy gave to the farthest gun of the battery, which +was large and of an old pattern. The French swarming round their +guns seemed to him like ants. In that world, the handsome drunkard +Number One of the second gun's crew was "uncle"; Tushin looked at +him more often than at anyone else and took delight in his every +movement. The sound of musketry at the foot of the hill, now +diminishing, now increasing, seemed like someone's breathing. He +listened intently to the ebb and flow of these sounds. + +^~ Daughter of Matthew. + +"Ah! Breathing again, breathing!" he muttered to himself. + +He imagined himself as an enormously tall, powerful man who was +throwing cannon balls at the French with both hands. + +"Now then, Matvevna, dear old lady, don't let me down!" he was +saying as he moved from the gun, when a strange, unfamiliar voice +called above his head: "Captain Tushin! Captain!" + +Tushin turned round in dismay. It was the staff officer who had +turned him out of the booth at Grunth. He was shouting in a gasping +voice: + +"Are you mad? You have twice been ordered to retreat, and you..." + +"Why are they down on me?" thought Tushin, looking in alarm at his +superior. + +"I... don't..." he muttered, holding up two fingers to his cap. +"I..." + +But the staff officer did not finish what he wanted to say. A cannon +ball, flying close to him, caused him to duck and bend over his horse. +He paused, and just as he was about to say something more, another +ball stopped him. He turned his horse and galloped off. + +"Retire! All to retire!" he shouted from a distance. + +The soldiers laughed. A moment later, an adjutant arrived with the +same order. + +It was Prince Andrew. The first thing he saw on riding up to the +space where Tushin's guns were stationed was an unharnessed horse with +a broken leg, that lay screaming piteously beside the harnessed +horses. Blood was gushing from its leg as from a spring. Among the +limbers lay several dead men. One ball after another passed over as he +approached and he felt a nervous shudder run down his spine. But the +mere thought of being afraid roused him again. "I cannot be afraid," +thought he, and dismounted slowly among the guns. He delivered the +order and did not leave the battery. He decided to have the guns +removed from their positions and withdrawn in his presence. Together +with Tushin, stepping across the bodies and under a terrible fire from +the French, he attended to the removal of the guns. + +"A staff officer was here a minute ago, but skipped off," said an +artilleryman to Prince Andrew. "Not like your honor!" + +Prince Andrew said nothing to Tushin. They were both so busy as to +seem not to notice one another. When having limbered up the only two +cannon that remained uninjured out of the four, they began moving down +the hill (one shattered gun and one unicorn were left behind), +Prince Andrew rode up to Tushin. + +"Well, till we meet again..." he said, holding out his hand to +Tushin. + +"Good-by, my dear fellow," said Tushin. "Dear soul! Good-by, my dear +fellow!" and for some unknown reason tears suddenly filled his eyes. + +CHAPTER XXI + +The wind had fallen and black clouds, merging with the powder smoke, +hung low over the field of battle on the horizon. It was growing +dark and the glow of two conflagrations was the more conspicuous. +The cannonade was dying down, but the rattle of musketry behind and on +the right sounded oftener and nearer. As soon as Tushin with his guns, +continually driving round or coming upon wounded men, was out of range +of fire and had descended into the dip, he was met by some of the +staff, among them the staff officer and Zherkov, who had been twice +sent to Tushin's battery but had never reached it. Interrupting one +another, they all gave, and transmitted, orders as to how to +proceed, reprimanding and reproaching him. Tushin gave no orders, and, +silently- fearing to speak because at every word he felt ready to weep +without knowing why- rode behind on his artillery nag. Though the +orders were to abandon the wounded, many of them dragged themselves +after troops and begged for seats on the gun carriages. The jaunty +infantry officer who just before the battle had rushed out of Tushin's +wattle shed was laid, with a bullet in his stomach, on "Matvevna's" +carriage. At the foot of the hill, a pale hussar cadet, supporting one +hand with the other, came up to Tushin and asked for a seat. + +"Captain, for God's sake! I've hurt my arm," he said timidly. "For +God's sake... I can't walk. For God's sake!" + +It was plain that this cadet had already repeatedly asked for a lift +and been refused. He asked in a hesitating, piteous voice. + +"Tell them to give me a seat, for God's sake!" + +"Give him a seat," said Tushin. "Lay a cloak for him to sit on, +lad," he said, addressing his favorite soldier. "And where is the +wounded officer?" + +"He has been set down. He died," replied someone. + +"Help him up. Sit down, dear fellow, sit down! Spread out the cloak, +Antonov." + +The cadet was Rostov. With one hand he supported the other; he was +pale and his jaw trembled, shivering feverishly. He was placed on +"Matvevna," the gun from which they had removed the dead officer. +The cloak they spread under him was wet with blood which stained his +breeches and arm. + +"What, are you wounded, my lad?" said Tushin, approaching the gun on +which Rostov sat. + +"No, it's a sprain." + +"Then what is this blood on the gun carriage?" inquired Tushin. + +"It was the officer, your honor, stained it," answered the +artilleryman, wiping away the blood with his coat sleeve, as if +apologizing for the state of his gun. + +It was all that they could do to get the guns up the rise aided by +the infantry, and having reached the village of Gruntersdorf they +halted. It had grown so dark that one could not distinguish the +uniforms ten paces off, and the firing had begun to subside. Suddenly, +near by on the right, shouting and firing were again heard. Flashes of +shot gleamed in the darkness. This was the last French attack and +was met by soldiers who had sheltered in the village houses. They +all rushed out of the village again, but Tushin's guns could not move, +and the artillerymen, Tushin, and the cadet exchanged silent glances +as they awaited their fate. The firing died down and soldiers, talking +eagerly, streamed out of a side street. + +"Not hurt, Petrov?" asked one. + +"We've given it 'em hot, mate! They won't make another push now," +said another. + +"You couldn't see a thing. How they shot at their own fellows! +Nothing could be seen. Pitch-dark, brother! Isn't there something to +drink?" + +The French had been repulsed for the last time. And again and +again in the complete darkness Tushin's guns moved forward, surrounded +by the humming infantry as by a frame. + +In the darkness, it seemed as though a gloomy unseen river was +flowing always in one direction, humming with whispers and talk and +the sound of hoofs and wheels. Amid the general rumble, the groans and +voices of the wounded were more distinctly heard than any other +sound in the darkness of the night. The gloom that enveloped the +army was filled with their groans, which seemed to melt into one +with the darkness of the night. After a while the moving mass became +agitated, someone rode past on a white horse followed by his suite, +and said something in passing: "What did he say? Where to, now? +Halt, is it? Did he thank us?" came eager questions from all sides. +The whole moving mass began pressing closer together and a report +spread that they were ordered to halt: evidently those in front had +halted. All remained where they were in the middle of the muddy road. + +Fires were lighted and the talk became more audible. Captain Tushin, +having given orders to his company, sent a soldier to find a +dressing station or a doctor for the cadet, and sat down by a +bonfire the soldiers had kindled on the road. Rostov, too, dragged +himself to the fire. From pain, cold, and damp, a feverish shivering +shook his whole body. Drowsiness was irresistibly mastering him, but +he kept awake kept awake by an excruciating pain in his arm, for which +he could find no satisfactory position. He kept closing his eyes and +then again looking at the fire, which seemed to him dazzlingly red, +and at the feeble, round-shouldered figure of Tushin who was sitting +cross-legged like a Turk beside him. Tushin's large, kind, intelligent +eyes were fixed with sympathy and commiseration on Rostov, who saw +that Tushin with his whole heart wished to help him but could not. + +From all sides were heard the footsteps and talk of the infantry, +who were walking, driving past, and settling down all around. The +sound of voices, the tramping feet, the horses' hoofs moving in mud, +the crackling of wood fires near and afar, merged into one tremulous +rumble. + +It was no longer, as before, a dark, unseen river flowing through +the gloom, but a dark sea swelling and gradually subsiding after a +storm. Rostov looked at and listened listlessly to what passed +before and around him. An infantryman came to the fire, squatted on +his heels, held his hands to the blaze, and turned away his face. + +"You don't mind your honor?" he asked Tushin. "I've lost my company, +your honor. I don't know where... such bad luck!" + +With the soldier, an infantry officer with a bandaged cheek came +up to the bonfire, and addressing Tushin asked him to have the guns +moved a trifle to let a wagon go past. After he had gone, two soldiers +rushed to the campfire. They were quarreling and fighting desperately, +each trying to snatch from the other a boot they were both holding +on to. + +"You picked it up?... I dare say! You're very smart!" one of them +shouted hoarsely. + +Then a thin, pale soldier, his neck bandaged with a bloodstained leg +band, came up and in angry tones asked the artillerymen for water. + +"Must one die like a dog?" said he. + +Tushin told them to give the man some water. Then a cheerful soldier +ran up, begging a little fire for the infantry. + +"A nice little hot torch for the infantry! Good luck to you, +fellow countrymen. Thanks for the fire- we'll return it with +interest," said he, carrying away into the darkness a glowing stick. + +Next came four soldiers, carrying something heavy on a cloak, and +passed by the fire. One of them stumbled. + +"Who the devil has put the logs on the road?" snarled he. + +"He's dead- why carry him?" said another. + +"Shut up!" + +And they disappeared into the darkness with with their load. + +"Still aching?" Tushin asked Rostov in a whisper. + +"Yes." + +"Your honor, you're wanted by the general. He is in the hut here," +said a gunner, coming up to Tushin. + +"Coming, friend." + +Tushin rose and, buttoning his greatcoat and pulling it straight, +walked away from the fire. + +Not far from the artillery campfire, in a hut that had been prepared +for him, Prince Bagration sat at dinner, talking with some +commanding officers who had gathered at his quarters. The little old +man with the half-closed eyes was there greedily gnawing a mutton +bone, and the general who had served blamelessly for twenty-two years, +flushed by a glass of vodka and the dinner; and the staff officer with +the signet ring, and Zherkov, uneasily glancing at them all, and +Prince Andrew, pale, with compressed lips and feverishly glittering +eyes. + +In a corner of the hut stood a standard captured from the French, +and the accountant with the naive face was feeling its texture, +shaking his head in perplexity- perhaps because the banner really +interested him, perhaps because it was hard for him, hungry as he was, +to look on at a dinner where there was no place for him. In the next +hut there was a French colonel who had been taken prisoner by our +dragoons. Our officers were flocking in to look at him. Prince +Bagration was thanking the individual commanders and inquiring into +details of the action and our losses. The general whose regiment had +been inspected at Braunau was informing the prince that as soon as the +action began he had withdrawn from the wood, mustered the men who were +woodcutting, and, allowing the French to pass him, had made a +bayonet charge with two battalions and had broken up the French +troops. + +"When I saw, your excellency, that their first battalion was +disorganized, I stopped in the road and thought: 'I'll let them come +on and will meet them with the fire of the whole battalion'- and +that's what I did." + +The general had so wished to do this and was so sorry he had not +managed to do it that it seemed to him as if it had really happened. +Perhaps it might really have been so? Could one possibly make out amid +all that confusion what did or did not happen? + +"By the way, your excellency, I should inform you," he continued- +remembering Dolokhov's conversation with Kutuzov and his last +interview with the gentleman-ranker- "that Private Dolokhov, who was +reduced to the ranks, took a French officer prisoner in my presence +and particularly distinguished himself." + +"I saw the Pavlograd hussars attack there, your excellency," +chimed in Zherkov, looking uneasily around. He had not seen the +hussars all that day, but had heard about them from an infantry +officer. "They broke up two squares, your excellency." + +Several of those present smiled at Zherkov's words, expecting one of +his usual jokes, but noticing that what he was saying redounded to the +glory of our arms and of the day's work, they assumed a serious +expression, though many of them knew that what he was saying was a lie +devoid of any foundation. Prince Bagration turned to the old colonel: + +"Gentlemen, I thank you all; all arms have behaved heroically: +infantry, cavalry, and artillery. How was it that two guns were +abandoned in the center?" he inquired, searching with his eyes for +someone. (Prince Bagration did not ask about the guns on the left +flank; he knew that all the guns there had been abandoned at the +very beginning of the action.) "I think I sent you?" he added, turning +to the staff officer on duty. + +"One was damaged," answered the staff officer, "and the other I +can't understand. I was there all the time giving orders and had +only just left.... It is true that it was hot there," he added, +modestly. + +Someone mentioned that Captain Tushin was bivouacking close to the +village and had already been sent for. + +"Oh, but you were there?" said Prince Bagration, addressing Prince +Andrew. + +"Of course, we only just missed one another," said the staff +officer, with a smile to Bolkonski. + +"I had not the pleasure of seeing you," said Prince Andrew, coldly +and abruptly. + +All were silent. Tushin appeared at the threshold and made his way +timidly from behind the backs of the generals. As he stepped past +the generals in the crowded hut, feeling embarrassed as he always +was by the sight of his superiors, he did not notice the staff of +the banner and stumbled over it. Several of those present laughed. + +"How was it a gun was abandoned?" asked Bagration, frowning, not +so much at the captain as at those who were laughing, among whom +Zherkov laughed loudest. + +Only now, when he was confronted by the stern authorities, did his +guilt and the disgrace of having lost two guns and yet remaining alive +present themselves to Tushin in all their horror. He had been so +excited that he had not thought about it until that moment. The +officers' laughter confused him still more. He stood before +Bagration with his lower jaw trembling and was hardly able to +mutter: "I don't know... your excellency... I had no men... your +excellency." + +"You might have taken some from the covering troops." + +Tushin did not say that there were no covering troops, though that +was perfectly true. He was afraid of getting some other officer into +trouble, and silently fixed his eyes on Bagration as a schoolboy who +has blundered looks at an examiner. + +The silence lasted some time. Prince Bagration, apparently not +wishing to be severe, found nothing to say; the others did not venture +to intervene. Prince Andrew looked at Tushin from under his brows +and his fingers twitched nervously. + +"Your excellency!" Prince Andrew broke the silence with his abrupt +voice," you were pleased to send me to Captain Tushin's battery. I +went there and found two thirds of the men and horses knocked out, two +guns smashed, and no supports at all." + +Prince Bagration and Tushin looked with equal intentness at +Bolkonski, who spoke with suppressed agitation. + +"And, if your excellency will allow me to express my opinion," he +continued, "we owe today's success chiefly to the action of that +battery and the heroic endurance of Captain Tushin and his company," +and without awaiting a reply, Prince Andrew rose and left the table. + +Prince Bagration looked at Tushin, evidently reluctant to show +distrust in Bolkonski's emphatic opinion yet not feeling able fully to +credit it, bent his head, and told Tushin that he could go. Prince +Andrew went out with him. + +"Thank you; you saved me, my dear fellow!" said Tushin. + +Prince Andrew gave him a look, but said nothing and went away. He +felt sad and depressed. It was all so strange, so unlike what he had +hoped. + +"Who are they? Why are they here? What do they want? And when will +all this end?" thought Rostov, looking at the changing shadows +before him. The pain in his arm became more and more intense. +Irresistible drowsiness overpowered him, red rings danced before his +eyes, and the impression of those voices and faces and a sense of +loneliness merged with the physical pain. It was they, these soldiers- +wounded and unwounded- it was they who were crushing, weighing down, +and twisting the sinews and scorching the flesh of his sprained arm +and shoulder. To rid himself of them he closed his eyes. + +For a moment he dozed, but in that short interval innumerable things +appeared to him in a dream: his mother and her large white hand, +Sonya's thin little shoulders, Natasha's eyes and laughter, Denisov +with his voice and mustache, and Telyanin and all that affair with +Telyanin and Bogdanich. That affair was the same thing as this soldier +with the harsh voice, and it was that affair and this soldier that +were so agonizingly, incessantly pulling and pressing his arm and +always dragging it in one direction. He tried to get away from them, +but they would not for an instant let his shoulder move a hair's +breadth. It would not ache- it would be well- if only they did not +pull it, but it was immpossible to get rid of them. + +He opened his eyes and looked up. The black canopy of night hung +less than a yard above the glow of the charcoal. Flakes of falling +snow were fluttering in that light. Tushin had not returned, the +doctor had not come. He was alone now, except for a soldier who was +sitting naked at the other side of the fire, warming his thin yellow +body. + +"Nobody wants me!" thought Rostov. "There is no one to help me or +pity me. Yet I was once at home, strong, happy, and loved." He +sighed and, doing so, groaned involuntarily. + +"Eh, is anything hurting you?" asked the soldier, shaking his +shirt out over the fire, and not waiting for an answer he gave a grunt +and added: "What a lot of men have been crippled today- frightful!" + +Rostov did not listen to the soldier. He looked at the snowflakes +fluttering above the fire and remembered a Russian winter at his warm, +bright home, his fluffy fur coat, his quickly gliding sleigh, his +healthy body, and all the affection and care of his family. "And why +did I come here?" he wondered. + +Next day the French army did not renew their attack, and the remnant +of Bagration's detachment was reunited to Kutuzov's army. + +BOOK THREE: 1805 + +CHAPTER I + +Prince Vasili was not a man who deliberately thought out his +plans. Still less did he think of injuring anyone for his own +advantage. He was merely a man of the world who had got on and to whom +getting on had become a habit. Schemes and devices for which he +never rightly accounted to himself, but which formed the whole +interest of his life, were constantly shaping themselves in his +mind, arising from the circumstances and persons he met. Of these +plans he had not merely one or two in his head but dozens, some only +beginning to form themselves, some approaching achievement, and some +in course of disintegration. He did not, for instance, say to himself: +"This man now has influence, I must gain his confidence and friendship +and through him obtain a special grant." Nor did he say to himself: +"Pierre is a rich man, I must entice him to marry my daughter and lend +me the forty thousand rubles I need." But when he came across came +across a man of position his instinct immediately told him that this +man could be useful, and without any premeditation Prince Vasili + +took the first opportunity to gain his confidence, flatter him, become +intimate with him, and finally make his request. + +He had Pierre at hand in Moscow and procured for him an +appointment as Gentleman of the Bedchamber, which at that time +conferred the status of Councilor of State, and insisted on the +young man accompanying him to Petersburg and staying at his house. +With apparent absent-mindedness, yet with unhesitating assurance +that he was doing the right thing, Prince Vasili did everything to get +Pierre to marry his daughter. Had he thought out his plans +beforehand he could not have been so natural and shown such unaffected +familiarity in intercourse with everybody both above and below him +in social standing. Something always drew him toward those richer +and more powerful than himself and he had rare skill in seizing the +most opportune moment for making use of people. + +Pierre, on unexpectedly becoming Count Bezukhov and a rich man, felt +himself after his recent loneliness and freedom from cares so beset +and preoccupied that only in bed was he able to be by himself. He +had to sign papers, to present himself at government offices, the +purpose of which was not clear to him, to question his chief +steward, to visit his estate near Moscow, and to receive many people +who formerly did not even wish to know of his existence but would +now have been offended and grieved had he chosen not to see them. +These different people- businessmen, relations, and acquaintances +alike- were all disposed to treat the young heir in the most +friendly and flattering manner: they were all evidently firmly +convinced of Pierre's noble qualities. He was always hearing such +words as: "With your remarkable kindness," or, "With your excellent +heart," "You are yourself so honorable Count," or, "Were he as +clever as you," and so on, till he began sincerely to believe in his +own exceptional kindness and extraordinary intelligence, the more so +as in the depth of his heart it had always seemed to him that he +really was very kind and intelligent. Even people who had formerly +been spiteful toward him and evidently unfriendly now became gentle +and affectionate. The angry eldest princess, with the long waist and +hair plastered down like a doll's, had come into Pierre's room after +the funeral. With drooping eyes and frequent blushes she told him +she was very sorry about their past misunderstandings and did not +now feel she had a right to ask him for anything, except only for +permission, after the blow she had received, to remain for a few weeks +longer in the house she so loved and where she had sacrificed so much. +She could not refrain from weeping at these words. Touched that this +statuesque princess could so change, Pierre took her hand and begged +her forgiveness, without knowing what for. From that day the eldest +princess quite changed toward Pierre and began knitting a striped +scarf for him. + +"Do this for my sake, mon cher; after all, she had to put up with +a great deal from the deceased," said Prince Vasili to him, handing +him a deed to sign for the princess' benefit. + +Prince Vasili had come to the conclusion that it was necessary to +throw this bone- a bill for thirty thousand rubles- to the poor +princess that it might not occur to her to speak of his share in the +affair of the inlaid portfolio. Pierre signed the deed and after +that the princess grew still kinder. The younger sisters also became +affectionate to him, especially the youngest, the pretty one with +the mole, who often made him feel confused by her smiles and her own +confusion when meeting him. + +It seemed so natural to Pierre that everyone should like him, and it +would have seemed so unnatural had anyone disliked him, that he +could not but believe in the sincerity of those around him. Besides, +he had no time to ask himself whether these people were sincere or +not. He was always busy and always felt in a state of mild and +cheerful intoxication. He felt as though he were the center of some +important and general movement; that something was constantly expected +of him, that if he did not do it he would grieve and disappoint many +people, but if he did this and that, all would be well; and he did +what was demanded of him, but still that happy result always +remained in the future. + +More than anyone else, Prince Vasili took possession of Pierre's +affairs and of Pierre himself in those early days. From the death of +Count Bezukhov he did not let go his hold of the lad. He had the air +of a man oppressed by business, weary and suffering, who yet would +not, for pity's sake, leave this helpless youth who, after all, was +the son of his old friend and the possessor of such enormous wealth, +to the caprice of fate and the designs of rogues. During the few +days he spent in Moscow after the death of Count Bezukhov, he would +call Pierre, or go to him himself, and tell him what ought to be +done in a tone of weariness and assurance, as if he were adding +every time: "You know I am overwhelmed with business and it is +purely out of charity that I trouble myself about you, and you also +know quite well that what I propose is the only thing possible." + +"Well, my dear fellow, tomorrow we are off at last," said Prince +Vasili one day, closing his eyes and fingering Pierre's elbow, +speaking as if he were saying something which had long since been +agreed upon and could not now be altered. "We start tomorrow and I'm +giving you a place in my carriage. I am very glad. All our important +business here is now settled, and I ought to have been off long ago. +Here is something I have received from the chancellor. I asked him for +you, and you have been entered in the diplomatic corps and made a +Gentleman of the Bedchamber. The diplomatic career now lies open +before you." + +Notwithstanding the tone of wearied assurance with which these words +were pronounced, Pierre, who had so long been considering his +career, wished to make some suggestion. But Prince Vasili +interrupted him in the special deep cooing tone, precluding the +possibility of interrupting his speech, which he used in extreme cases +when special persuasion was needed. + +"Mais, mon cher, I did this for my own sake, to satisfy my +conscience, and there is nothing to thank me for. No one has ever +complained yet of being too much loved; and besides, you are free, you +could throw it up tomorrow. But you will see everything for yourself +when you get to Petersburg. It is high time for you to get away from +these terrible recollections." Prince Vasili sighed. "Yes, yes, my +boy. And my valet can go in your carriage. Ah! I was nearly +forgetting," he added. "You know, mon cher, your father and I had some +accounts to settle, so I have received what was due from the Ryazan +estate and will keep it; you won't require it. We'll go into the +accounts later." + +By "what was due from the Ryazan estate" Prince Vasili meant several +thousand rubles quitrent received from Pierre's peasants, which the +prince had retained for himself. + +In Petersburg, as in Moscow, Pierre found the same atmosphere of +gentleness and affection. He could not refuse the post, or rather +the rank (for he did nothing), that Prince Vasili had procured for + +him, and acquaintances, invitations, and social occupations were so +numerous that, even more than in Moscow, he felt a sense of +bewilderment, bustle, and continual expectation of some good, always +in front of him but never attained. + +Of his former bachelor acquaintances many were no longer in +Petersburg. The Guards had gone to the front; Dolokhov had been +reduced to the ranks; Anatole was in the army somewhere in the +provinces; Prince Andrew was abroad; so Pierre had not the opportunity +to spend his nights as he used to like to spend them, or to open his +mind by intimate talks with a friend older than himself and whom he +respected. His whole time was taken up with dinners and balls and +was spent chiefly at Prince Vasili's house in the company of the stout +princess, his wife, and his beautiful daughter Helene. + +Like the others, Anna Pavlovna Scherer showed Pierre the change of +attitude toward him that had taken place in society. + +Formerly in Anna Pavlovna's presence, Pierre had always felt that +what he was saying was out of place, tactless and unsuitable, that +remarks which seemed to him clever while they formed in his mind +became foolish as soon as he uttered them, while on the contrary +Hippolyte's stupidest remarks came out clever and apt. Now +everything Pierre said was charmant. Even if Anna Pavlovna did not say +so, he could see that she wished to and only refrained out of regard +for his modesty. + +In the beginning of the winter of 1805-6 Pierre received one of Anna +Pavlovna's usual pink notes with an invitation to which was added: +"You will find the beautiful Helene here, whom it is always delightful +to see." + +When he read that sentence, Pierre felt for the first time that some +link which other people recognized had grown up between himself and +Helene, and that thought both alarmed him, as if some obligation +were being imposed on him which he could not fulfill, and pleased +him as an entertaining supposition. + +Anna Pavlovna's "At Home" was like the former one, only the +novelty she offered her guests this time was not Mortemart, but a +diplomatist fresh from Berlin with the very latest details of the +Emperor Alexander's visit to Potsdam, and of how the two august +friends had pledged themselves in an indissoluble alliance to uphold +the cause of justice against the enemy of the human race. Anna +Pavlovna received Pierre with a shade of melancholy, evidently +relating to the young man's recent loss by the death of Count Bezukhov +(everyone constantly considered it a duty to assure Pierre that he was +greatly afflicted by the death of the father he had hardly known), and +her melancholy was just like the august melancholy she showed at the +mention of her most august Majesty the Empress Marya Fedorovna. Pierre +felt flattered by this. Anna Pavlovna arranged the different groups in +her drawing room with her habitual skill. The large group, in which +were Prince Vasili and the generals, had the benefit of the +diplomat. Another group was at the tea table. Pierre wished to join +the former, but Anna Pavlovna- who was in the excited condition of a +commander on a battlefield to whom thousands of new and brilliant +ideas occur which there is hardly time to put in action- seeing +Pierre, touched his sleeve with her finger, saying: + +"Wait a bit, I have something in view for you this evening." (She +glanced at Helene and smiled at her.) "My dear Helene, be charitable +to my poor aunt who adores you. Go and keep her company for ten +minutes. And that it will not be too dull, here is the dear count +who will not refuse to accompany you." + +The beauty went to the aunt, but Anna Pavlovna detained Pierre, +looking as if she had to give some final necessary instructions. + +"Isn't she exquisite?" she said to Pierre, pointing to the stately +beauty as she glided away. "And how she carries herself! For so +young a girl, such tact, such masterly perfection of manner! It +comes from her heart. Happy the man who wins her! With her the least +worldly of men would occupy a most brilliant position in society. +Don't you think so? I only wanted to know your opinion," and Anna +Pavlovna let Pierre go. + +Pierre, in reply, sincerely agreed with her as to Helene's +perfection of manner. If he ever thought of Helene, it was just of her +beauty and her remarkable skill in appearing silently dignified in +society. + +The old aunt received the two young people in her corner, but seemed +desirous of hiding her adoration for Helene and inclined rather to +show her fear of Anna Pavlovna. She looked at her niece, as if +inquiring what she was to do with these people. On leaving them, +Anna Pavlovna again touched Pierre's sleeve, saying: "I hope you won't +say that it is dull in my house again," and she glanced at Helene. + +Helene smiled, with a look implying that she did not admit the +possibility of anyone seeing her without being enchanted. The aunt +coughed, swallowed, and said in French that she was very pleased to +see Helene, then she turned to Pierre with the same words of welcome +and the same look. In the middle of a dull and halting conversation, +Helene turned to Pierre with the beautiful bright smile that she +gave to everyone. Pierre was so used to that smile, and it had so +little meaning for him, that he paid no attention to it. The aunt +was just speaking of a collection of snuffboxes that had belonged to +Pierre's father, Count Bezukhov, and showed them her own box. Princess +Helene asked to see the portrait of the aunt's husband on the box lid. + +"That is probably the work of Vinesse," said Pierre, mentioning a +celebrated miniaturist, and he leaned over the table to take the +snuffbox while trying to hear what was being said at the other table. + +He half rose, meaning to go round, but the aunt handed him the +snuffbox, passing it across Helene's back. Helene stooped forward to +make room, and looked round with a smile. She was, as always at +evening parties, wearing a dress such as was then fashionable, cut +very low at front and back. Her bust, which had always seemed like +marble to Pierre, was so close to him that his shortsighted eyes could +not but perceive the living charm of her neck and shoulders, so near +to his lips that he need only have bent his head a little to have +touched them. He was conscious of the warmth of her body, the scent of +perfume, and the creaking of her corset as she moved. He did not see +her marble beauty forming a complete whole with her dress, but all the +charm of her body only covered by her garments. And having once seen +this he could not help being aware it, just as we cannot renew an +illusion we have once seen through. + +"So you have never noticed before how beautiful I am?" Helene seemed +to say. "You had not noticed that I am a woman? Yes, I am a woman +who may belong to anyone- to you too," said her glance. And at that +moment Pierre felt that Helene not only could, but must, be his +wife, and that it could not be otherwise. + +He knew this at that moment as surely as if he had been standing +at the altar with her. How and when this would be he did not know, +he did not even know if it would be a good thing (he even felt, he +knew not why, that it would be a bad thing), but he knew it would +happen. + +Pierre dropped his eyes, lifted them again, and wished once more +to see her as a distant beauty far removed from him, as he had seen +her every day until then, but he could no longer do it. He could +not, any more than a man who has been looking at a tuft of steppe +grass through the mist and taking it for a tree can again take it +for a tree after he has once recognized it to be a tuft of grass. +She was terribly close to him. She already had power over him, and +between them there was no longer any barrier except the barrier of his +own will. + +"Well, I will leave you in your little corner," came Anna Pavlovna's +voice, "I see you are all right there." + +And Pierre, anxiously trying to remember whether he had done +anything reprehensible, looked round with a blush. It seemed to him +that everyone knew what had happened to him as he knew it himself. + +A little later when he went up to the large circle, Anna Pavlovna +said to him: "I hear you are refitting your Petersburg house?" + +This was true. The architect had told him that it was necessary, and +Pierre, without knowing why, was having his enormous Petersburg +house done up. + +"That's a good thing, but don't move from Prince Vasili's. It is +good to have a friend like the prince," she said, smiling at Prince +Vasili. "I know something about that. Don't I? And you are still so +young. You need advice. Don't be angry with me for exercising an old +woman's privilege." + +She paused, as women always do, expecting something after they +have mentioned their age. "If you marry it will be a different thing," +she continued, uniting them both in one glance. Pierre did not look at +Helene nor she at him. But she was just as terribly close to him. He +muttered something and colored. + +When he got home he could not sleep for a long time for thinking +of what had happened. What had happened? Nothing. He had merely +understood that the woman he had known as a child, of whom when her +beauty was mentioned he had said absent-mindedly: "Yes, she's good +looking," he had understood that this woman might belong to him. + +"But she's stupid. I have myself said she is stupid," he thought. +"There is something nasty, something wrong, in the feeling she excites +in me. I have been told that her brother Anatole was in love with +her and she with him, that there was quite a scandal and that that's +why he was sent away. Hippolyte is her brother... Prince Vasili is her +father... It's bad...." he reflected, but while he was thinking this +(the reflection was still incomplete), he caught himself smiling and +was conscious that another line of thought had sprung up, and while +thinking of her worthlessness he was also dreaming of how she would be +his wife, how she would love him become quite different, and how all +he had thought and heard of her might be false. And he again saw her +not as the daughter of Prince Vasili, but visualized her whole body +only veiled by its gray dress. "But no! Why did this thought never +occur to me before?" and again he told himself that it was impossible, +that there would be something unnatural, and as it seemed to him +dishonorable, in this marriage. He recalled her former words and looks +and the words and looks of those who had seen them together. He +recalled Anna Pavlovna's words and looks when she spoke to him about +his house, recalled thousands of such hints from Prince Vasili and +others, and was seized by terror lest he had already, in some way, +bound himself to do something that was evidently wrong and that he +ought not to do. But at the very time he was expressing this +conviction to himself, in another part of his mind her image rose in +all its womanly beauty. + +CHAPTER II + +In November, 1805, Prince Vasili had to go on a tour of inspection +in four different provinces. He had arranged this for himself so as to +visit his neglected estates at the same time and pick up his son +Anatole where his regiment was stationed, and take him to visit Prince +Nicholas Bolkonski in order to arrange a match for him with the +daughter of that rich old man. But before leaving home and undertaking +these new affairs, Prince Vasili had to settle matters with Pierre, +who, it is true, had latterly spent whole days at home, that is, in +Prince Vasili's house where he was staying, and had been absurd, +excited, and foolish in Helene's presence (as a lover should be), +but had not yet proposed to her. + +"This is all very fine, but things must be settled," said Prince +Vasili to himself, with a sorrowful sigh, one morning, feeling that +Pierre who was under such obligations to him ("But never mind that") +was not behaving very well in this matter. "Youth, frivolity... +well, God be with him," thought he, relishing his own goodness of +heart, "but it must be brought to a head. The day after tomorrow +will be Lelya's name day. I will invite two or three people, and if he +does not understand what he ought to do then it will be my affair- +yes, my affair. I am her father." + +Six weeks after Anna Pavlovna's "At Home" and after the sleepless +night when he had decided that to marry Helene would be a calamity and +that he ought to avoid her and go away, Pierre, despite that decision, +had not left Prince Vasili's and felt with terror that in people's +eyes he was every day more and more connected with her, that it was +impossible for him to return to his former conception of her, that +he could not break away from her, and that though it would be a +terrible thing he would have to unite his fate with hers. He might +perhaps have been able to free himself but that Prince Vasili (who had +rarely before given receptions) now hardly let a day go by without +having an evening party at which Pierre had to be present unless he +wished to spoil the general pleasure and disappoint everyone's +expectation. Prince Vasili, in the rare moments when he was at home, +would take Pierre's hand in passing and draw it downwards, or +absent-mindedly hold out his wrinkled, clean-shaven cheek for Pierre +to kiss and would say: "Till tomorrow," or, "Be in to dinner or I +shall not see you," or, "I am staying in for your sake," and so on. +And though Prince Vasili, when he stayed in (as he said) for +Pierre's sake, hardly exchanged a couple of words with him, Pierre +felt unable to disappoint him. Every day he said to himself one and +the same thing: "It is time I understood her and made up my mind +what she really is. Was I mistaken before, or am I mistaken now? No, +she is not stupid, she is an excellent girl," he sometimes said to +himself "she never makes a mistake, never says anything stupid. She +says little, but what she does say is always clear and simple, so +she is not stupid. She never was abashed and is not abashed now, so +she cannot be a bad woman!" He had often begun to make reflections +or think aloud in her company, and she had always answered him +either by a brief but appropriate remark- showing that it did not +interest her- or by a silent look and smile which more palpably than +anything else showed Pierre her superiority. She was right in +regarding all arguments as nonsense in comparison with that smile. + +She always addressed him with a radiantly confiding smile meant +for him alone, in which there was something more significant than in +the general smile that usually brightened her face. Pierre knew that +everyone was waiting for him to say a word and cross a certain line, +and he knew that sooner or later he would step across it, but an +incomprehensible terror seized him at the thought of that dreadful +step. A thousand times during that month and a half while he felt +himself drawn nearer and nearer to that dreadful abyss, Pierre said to +himself: "What am I doing? I need resolution. Can it be that I have +none?" + +He wished to take a decision, but felt with dismay that in this +matter he lacked that strength of will which he had known in himself +and really possessed. Pierre was one of those who are only strong when +they feel themselves quite innocent, and since that day when he was +overpowered by a feeling of desire while stooping over the snuffbox at +Anna Pavlovna's, an unacknowledged sense of the guilt of that desire +paralyzed his will. + +On Helene's name day, a small party of just their own people- as his +wife said- met for supper at Prince Vasili's. All these friends and +relations had been given to understand that the fate of the young girl +would be decided that evening. The visitors were seated at supper. +Princess Kuragina, a portly imposing woman who had once been handsome, +was sitting at the head of the table. On either side of her sat the +more important guests- an old general and his wife, and Anna +Pavlovna Scherer. At the other end sat the younger and less +important guests, and there too sat the members of the family, and +Pierre and Helene, side by side. Prince Vasili was not having any +supper: he went round the table in a merry mood, sitting down now by +one, now by another, of the guests. To each of them he made some +careless and agreeable remark except to Pierre and Helene, whose +presence he seemed not to notice. He enlivened the whole party. The +wax candles burned brightly, the silver and crystal gleamed, so did +the ladies' toilets and the gold and silver of the men's epaulets; +servants in scarlet liveries moved round the table, the clatter of +plates, knives, and glasses mingled with the animated hum of several +conversations. At one end of the table, the old chamberlain was +heard assuring an old baroness that he loved her passionately, at +which she laughed; at the other could be heard the story of the +misfortunes of some Mary Viktorovna or other. At the center of the +table, Prince Vasili attracted everybody's attention. With a facetious +smile on his face, he was telling the ladies about last Wednesday's +meeting of the Imperial Council, at which Sergey Kuzmich +Vyazmitinov, the new military governor general of Petersburg, had +received and read the then famous rescript of the Emperor Alexander +from the army to Sergey Kuzmich, in which the Emperor said that he was +receiving from all sides declarations of the people's loyalty, that +the declaration from Petersburg gave him particular pleasure, and that +he was proud to be at the head of such a nation and would endeavor +to be worthy of it. This rescript began with the words: "Sergey +Kuzmich, From all sides reports reach me," etc. + +"Well, and so he never got farther than: 'Sergey Kuzmich'?" asked +one of the ladies. + +"Exactly, not a hair's breadth farther," answered Prince Vasili, +laughing, "'Sergey Kuzmich... From all sides... From all sides... +Sergey Kuzmich...' Poor Vyazmitinov could not get any farther! He +began the rescript again and again, but as soon as he uttered 'Sergey' +he sobbed, 'Kuz-mi-ch,' tears, and 'From all sides' was smothered in +sobs and he could get no farther. And again his handkerchief, and +again: 'Sergey Kuzmich, From all sides,'... and tears, till at last +somebody else was asked to read it." + +"Kuzmich... From all sides... and then tears," someone repeated +laughing. + +"Don't be unkind," cried Anna Pavlovna from her end of the table +holding up a threatening finger. "He is such a worthy and excellent +man, our dear Vyazmitinov...." + +Everybody laughed a great deal. At the head of the table, where +the honored guests sat, everyone seemed to be in high spirits and +under the influence of a variety of exciting sensations. Only Pierre +and Helene sat silently side by side almost at the bottom of the +table, a suppressed smile brightening both their faces, a smile that +had nothing to do with Sergey Kuzmich- a smile of bashfulness at their +own feelings. But much as all the rest laughed, talked, and joked, +much as they enjoyed their Rhine wine, saute, and ices, and however +they avoided looking at the young couple, and heedless and unobservant +as they seemed of them, one could feel by the occasional glances +they gave that the story about Sergey Kuzmich, the laughter, and the +food were all a pretense, and that the whole attention of that company +was directed to- Pierre and Helene. Prince Vasili mimicked the sobbing +of Sergey Kuzmich and at the same time his eyes glanced toward his +daughter, and while he laughed the expression on his face clearly +said: "Yes... it's getting on, it will all be settled today." Anna +Pavlovna threatened him on behalf of "our dear Vyazmitinov," and in +her eyes, which, for an instant, glanced at Pierre, Prince Vasili read +a congratulation on his future son-in-law and on his daughter's +happiness. The old princess sighed sadly as she offered some wine to +the old lady next to her and glanced angrily at her daughter, and +her sigh seemed to say: "Yes, there's nothing left for you and me +but to sip sweet wine, my dear, now that the time has come for these +young ones to be thus boldly, provocatively happy." "And what nonsense +all this is that I am saying!" thought a diplomatist, glancing at +the happy faces of the lovers. "That's happiness!" + +Into the insignificant, trifling, and artificial interests uniting +that society had entered the simple feeling of the attraction of a +healthy and handsome young man and woman for one another. And this +human feeling dominated everything else and soared above all their +affected chatter. Jests fell flat, news was not interesting, and the +animation was evidently forced. Not only the guests but even the +footmen waiting at table seemed to feel this, and they forgot their +duties as they looked at the beautiful Helene with her radiant face +and at the red, broad, and happy though uneasy face of Pierre. It +seemed as if the very light of the candles was focused on those two +happy faces alone. + +Pierre felt that he the center of it all, and this both pleased +and embarrassed him. He was like a man entirely absorbed in some +occupation. He did not see, hear, or understand anything clearly. Only +now and then detached ideas and impressions from the world of +reality shot unexpectedly through his mind. + +"So it is all finished!" he thought. "And how has it all happened? +How quickly! Now I know that not because of her alone, nor of myself +alone, but because of everyone, it must inevitably come about. They +are all expecting it, they are so sure that it will happen that I +cannot, I cannot, disappoint them. But how will it be? I do not +know, but it will certainly happen!" thought Pierre, glancing at those +dazzling shoulders close to his eyes. + +Or he would suddenly feel ashamed of he knew not what. He felt it +awkward to attract everyone's attention and to be considered a lucky +man and, with his plain face, to be looked on as a sort of Paris +possessed of a Helen. "But no doubt it always is and must be so!" he +consoled himself. "And besides, what have I done to bring it about? +How did it begin? I traveled from Moscow with Prince Vasili. Then +there was nothing. So why should I not stay at his house? Then I +played cards with her and picked up her reticule and drove out with +her. How did it begin, when did it all come about?" And here he was +sitting by her side as her betrothed, seeing, hearing, feeling her +nearness, her breathing, her movements, her beauty. Then it would +suddenly seem to him that it was not she but he was so unusually +beautiful, and that that was why they all looked so at him, and +flattered by this general admiration he would expand his chest, +raise his head, and rejoice at his good fortune. Suddenly he heard a +familiar voice repeating something to him a second time. But Pierre +was so absorbed that he did not understand what was said. + +"I am asking you when you last heard from Bolkonski," repeated +Prince Vasili a third time. "How absent-minded you are, my dear +fellow." + +Prince Vasili smiled, and Pierre noticed that everyone was smiling +at him and Helene. "Well, what of it, if you all know it?" thought +Pierre. "What of it? It's the truth!" and he himself smiled his gentle +childlike smile, and Helene smiled too. + +"When did you get the letter? Was it from Olmutz?" repeated Prince +Vasili, who pretended to want to know this in order to settle a +dispute. + +"How can one talk or think of such trifles?" thought Pierre. + +"Yes, from Olmutz," he answered, with a sigh. + +After supper Pierre with his partner followed the others into the +drawing room. The guests began to disperse, some without taking +leave of Helene. Some, as if unwilling to distract her from an +important occupation, came up to her for a moment and made haste to go +away, refusing to let her see them off. The diplomatist preserved a +mournful silence as he left the drawing room. He pictured the vanity +of his diplomatic career in comparison with Pierre's happiness. The +old general grumbled at his wife when she asked how his leg was. +"Oh, the old fool," he thought. "That Princess Helene will be +beautiful still when she's fifty." + +"I think I may congratulate you," whispered Anna Pavlovna to the old +princess, kissing her soundly. "If I hadn't this headache I'd have +stayed longer." + +The old princess did not reply, she was tormented by jealousy of her +daughter's happiness. + +While the guests were taking their leave Pierre remained for a +long time alone with Helene in the little drawing room where they were +sitting. He had often before, during the last six weeks, remained +alone with her, but had never spoken to her of love. Now he felt +that it was inevitable, but he could not make up his mind to take +the final step. He felt ashamed; he felt that he was occupying someone +else's place here beside Helene. "This happiness is not for you," some +inner voice whispered to him. "This happiness is for those who have +not in them what there is in you." + +But, as he had to say something, he began by asking her whether +she was satisfied with the party. She replied in her usual simple +manner that this name day of hers had been one of the pleasantest +she had ever had. + +Some of the nearest relatives had not yet left. They were sitting in +the large drawing room. Prince Vasili came up to Pierre with languid +footsteps. Pierre rose and said it was getting late. Prince Vasili +gave him a look of stern inquiry, as though what Pierre had just +said was so strange that one could not take it in. But then the +expression of severity changed, and he drew Pierre's hand downwards, +made him sit down, and smiled affectionately. + +"Well, Lelya?" he asked, turning instantly to his daughter and +addressing her with the careless tone of habitual tenderness natural +to parents who have petted their children from babyhood, but which +Prince Vasili had only acquired by imitating other parents. + +And he again turned to Pierre. + +"Sergey Kuzmich- From all sides-" he said, unbuttoning the top +button of his waistcoat. + +Pierre smiled, but his smile showed that he knew it was not the +story about Sergey Kuzmich that interested Prince Vasili just then, +and Prince Vasili saw that Pierre knew this. He suddenly muttered +something and went away. It seemed to Pierre that even the prince +was disconcerted. The sight of the discomposure of that old man of the +world touched Pierre: he looked at Helene and she too seemed +disconcerted, and her look seemed to say: "Well, it is your own +fault." + +"The step must be taken but I cannot, I cannot!" thought Pierre, and +he again began speaking about indifferent matters, about Sergey +Kuzmich, asking what the point of the story was as he had not heard it +properly. Helene answered with a smile that she too had missed it. + +When Prince Vasili returned to the drawing room, the princess, his +wife, was talking in low tones to the elderly lady about Pierre. + +"Of course, it is a very brilliant match, but happiness, my dear..." + +"Marriages are made in heaven," replied the elderly lady. + +Prince Vasili passed by, seeming not to hear the ladies, and sat +down on a sofa in a far corner of the room. He closed his eyes and +seemed to be dozing. His head sank forward and then he roused himself. + +"Aline," he said to his wife, "go and see what they are about." + +The princess went up to the door, passed by it with a dignified +and indifferent air, and glanced into the little drawing room. +Pierre and Helene still sat talking just as before. + +"Still the same," she said to her husband. + +Prince Vasili frowned, twisting his mouth, his cheeks quivered and +his face assumed the coarse, unpleasant expression peculiar to him. +Shaking himself, he rose, threw back his head, and with resolute steps +went past the ladies into the little drawing room. With quick steps he +went joyfully up to Pierre. His face was so unusually triumphant +that Pierre rose in alarm on seeing it. + +"Thank God!" said Prince Vasili. "My wife has told me everything!- +(He put one arm around Pierre and the other around his daughter.)- "My +dear boy... Lelya... I am very pleased." (His voice trembled.) "I +loved your father... and she will make you a good wife... God bless +you!..." + +He embraced his daughter, and then again Pierre, and kissed him with +his malodorous mouth. Tears actually moistened his cheeks. + +"Princess, come here!" he shouted. + +The old princess came in and also wept. The elderly lady was using +her handkerchief too. Pierre was kissed, and he kissed the beautiful +Helene's hand several times. After a while they were left alone again. + +"All this had to be and could not be otherwise," thought Pierre, "so +it is useless to ask whether it is good or bad. It is good because +it's definite and one is rid of the old tormenting doubt." Pierre held +the hand of his betrothed in silence, looking at her beautiful bosom +as it rose and fell. + +"Helene!" he said aloud and paused. + +"Something special is always said in such cases," he thought, but +could not remember what it was that people say. He looked at her face. +She drew nearer to him. Her face flushed. + +"Oh, take those off... those..." she said, pointing to his +spectacles. + +Pierre took them off, and his eyes, besides the strange look eyes +have from which spectacles have just been removed, had also a +frightened and inquiring look. He was about to stoop over her hand and +kiss it, but with a rapid, almost brutal movement of her head, she +intercepted his lips and met them with her own. Her face struck +Pierre, by its altered, unpleasantly excited expression. + +"It is too late now, it's done; besides I love her," thought Pierre. + +"Je vous aime!"~^ he said, remembering what has to be said at such +moments: but his words sounded so weak that he felt ashamed of +himself. + +^~ "I love you." + +Six weeks later he was married, and settled in Count Bezukhov's +large, newly furnished Petersburg house, the happy possessor, as +people said, of a wife who was a celebrated beauty and of millions +of money. + +CHAPTER III + +Old Prince Nicholas Bolkonski received a letter from Prince Vasili +in November, 1805, announcing that he and his son would be paying +him a visit. "I am starting on a journey of inspection, and of +course I shall think nothing of an extra seventy miles to come and see +you at the same time, my honored benefactor," wrote Prince Vasili. "My + +son Anatole is accompanying me on his way to the army, so I hope you +will allow him personally to express the deep respect that, +emulating his father, he feels for you." + +"It seems that there will be no need to bring Mary out, suitors +are coming to us of their own accord," incautiously remarked the +little princess on hearing the news. + +Prince Nicholas frowned, but said nothing. + +A fortnight after the letter Prince Vasili's servants came one +evening in advance of him, and he and his son arrived next day. + +Old Bolkonski had always had a poor opinion of Prince Vasili's +character, but more so recently, since in the new reigns of Paul and +Alexander Prince Vasili had risen to high position and honors. And +now, from the hints contained in his letter and given by the little +princess, he saw which way the wind was blowing, and his low opinion +changed into a feeling of contemptuous ill will. He snorted whenever +he mentioned him. On the day of Prince Vasili's arrival, Prince +Bolkonski was particularly discontented and out of temper. Whether +he was in a bad temper because Prince Vasili was coming, or whether +his being in a bad temper made him specially annoyed at Prince +Vasili's visit, he was in a bad temper, and in the morning Tikhon +had already advised the architect not to go the prince with his +report. + +"Do you hear how he's walking?" said Tikhon, drawing the architect's +attention to the sound of the prince's footsteps. "Stepping flat on +his heels- we know what that means...." + +However, at nine o'clock the prince, in his velvet coat with a sable +collar and cap, went out for his usual walk. It had snowed the day +before and the path to the hothouse, along which the prince was in the +habit of walking, had been swept: the marks of the broom were still +visible in the snow and a shovel had been left sticking in one of +the soft snowbanks that bordered both sides of the path. The prince +went through the conservatories, the serfs' quarters, and the +outbuildings, frowning and silent. + +"Can a sleigh pass?" he asked his overseer, a venerable man, +resembling his master in manners and looks, who was accompanying him +back to the house. + +"The snow is deep. I am having the avenue swept, your honor." + +The prince bowed his head and went up to the porch. "God be +thanked," thought the overseer, "the storm has blown over!" + +"It would have been hard to drive up, your honor," he added. "I +heard, your honor, that a minister is coming to visit your honor." + +The prince turned round to the overseer and fixed his eyes on him, +frowning. + +"What? A minister? What minister? Who gave orders?" he said in his +shrill, harsh voice. "The road is not swept for the princess my +daughter, but for a minister! For me, there are no ministers!" + +"Your honor, I thought..." + +"You thought!" shouted the prince, his words coming more and more +rapidly and indistinctly. "You thought!... Rascals! Blackgaurds!... +I'll teach you to think!" and lifting his stick he swung it and +would have hit Alpatych, the overseer, had not the latter +instinctively avoided the blow. "Thought... Blackguards..." shouted +the prince rapidly. + +But although Alpatych, frightened at his own temerity in avoiding +the stroke, came up to the prince, bowing his bald head resignedly +before him, or perhaps for that very reason, the prince, though he +continued to shout: "Blackgaurds!... Throw the snow back on the road!" +did not lift his stick again but hurried into the house. + +Before dinner, Princess Mary and Mademoiselle Bourienne, who knew +that the prince was in a bad humor, stood awaiting him; Mademoiselle +Bourienne with a radiant face that said: "I know nothing, I am the +same as usual," and Princess Mary pale, frightened, and with +downcast eyes. What she found hardest to bear was to know that on such +occasions she ought to behave like Mademoiselle Bourienne, but could +not. She thought: "If I seem not to notice he will think that I do not +sympathize with him; if I seem sad and out of spirits myself, he +will say (as he has done before) that I'm in the dumps." + +The prince looked at his daughter's frightened face and snorted. + +"Fool... or dummy!" he muttered. + +"And the other one is not here. They've been telling tales," he +thought- referring to the little princess who was not in the dining +room. + +"Where is the princess?" he asked. "Hiding?" + +"She is not very well," answered Mademoiselle Bourienne with a +bright smile, "so she won't come down. It is natural in her state." + +"Hm! Hm!" muttered the prince, sitting down. + +His plate seemed to him not quite clean, and pointing to a spot he +flung it away. Tikhon caught it and handed it to a footman. The little +princess was not unwell, but had such an overpowering fear of the +prince that, hearing he was in a bad humor, she had decided not to +appear. + +"I am afraid for the baby," she said to Mademoiselle Bourienne: +"Heaven knows what a fright might do." + +In general at Bald Hills the little princess lived in constant fear, +and with a sense of antipathy to the old prince which she did not +realize because the fear was so much the stronger feeling. The +prince reciprocated this antipathy, but it was overpowered by his +contempt for her. When the little princess had grown accustomed to +life at Bald Hills, she took a special fancy to Mademoiselle +Bourienne, spent whole days with her, asked her to sleep in her +room, and often talked with her about the old prince and criticized +him. + +"So we are to have visitors, mon prince?" remarked Mademoiselle +Bourienne, unfolding her white napkin with her rosy fingers. "His +Excellency Prince Vasili Kuragin and his son, I understand?" she +said inquiringly. + +"Hm!- his excellency is a puppy.... I got him his appointment in the +service," said the prince disdainfully. "Why his son is coming I don't +understand. Perhaps Princess Elizabeth and Princess Mary know. I don't +want him." (He looked at his blushing daughter.) "Are you unwell +today? Eh? Afraid of the 'minister' as that idiot Alpatych called +him this morning?" + +"No, mon pere." + +Though Mademoiselle Bourienne had been so unsuccessful in her choice +of a subject, she did not stop talking, but chattered about the +conservatories and the beauty of a flower that had just opened, and +after the soup the prince became more genial. + +After dinner, he went to see his daughter-in-law. The little +princess was sitting at a small table, chattering with Masha, her +maid. She grew pale on seeing her father-in-law. + +She was much altered. She was now plain rather than pretty. Her +cheeks had sunk, her lip was drawn up, and her eyes drawn down. + +"Yes, I feel a kind of oppression," she said in reply to the +prince's question as to how she felt. + +"Do you want anything?" + +"No, merci, mon pere." + +"Well, all right, all right." + +He left the room and went to the waiting room where Alpatych stood +with bowed head. + +"Has the snow been shoveled back?" + +"Yes, your excellency. Forgive me for heaven's sake... It was only +my stupidity." + +"All right, all right," interrupted the prince, and laughing his +unnatural way, he stretched out his hand for Alpatych to kiss, and +then proceeded to his study. + +Prince Vasili arrived that evening. He was met in the avenue by +coachmen and footmen, who, with loud shouts, dragged his sleighs up to +one of the lodges over the road purposely laden with snow. + +Prince Vasili and Anatole had separate rooms assigned to them. + +Anatole, having taken off his overcoat, sat with arms akimbo +before a table on a corner of which he smilingly and absent-mindedly +fixed his large and handsome eyes. He regarded his whole life as a +continual round of amusement which someone for some reason had to +provide for him. And he looked on this visit to a churlish old man and +a rich and ugly heiress in the same way. All this might, he thought, +turn out very well and amusingly. "And why not marry her if she really +has so much money? That never does any harm," thought Anatole. + +He shaved and scented himself with the care and elegance which had +become habitual to him and, his handsome head held high, entered his +father's room with the good-humored and victorious air natural to him. +Prince Vasili's two valets were busy dressing him, and he looked round +with much animation and cheerfully nodded to his son as the latter +entered, as if to say: "Yes, that's how I want you to look." + +"I say, Father, joking apart, is she very hideous?" Anatole asked, +as if continuing a conversation the subject of which had often been +mentioned during the journey. + +"Enough! What nonsense! Above all, try to be respectful and cautious +with the old prince." + +"If he starts a row I'll go away," said Prince Anatole. "I can't +bear those old men! Eh?" + +"Remember, for you everything depends on this." + +In the meantime, not only was it known in the maidservants' rooms +that the minister and his son had arrived, but the appearance of +both had been minutely described. Princess Mary was sitting alone in +her room, vainly trying to master her agitation. + +"Why did they write, why did Lise tell me about it? It can never +happen!" she said, looking at herself in the glass. "How shall I enter +the drawing room? Even if I like him I can't now be myself with +him." The mere thought of her father's look filled her with terror. +The little princess and Mademoiselle Bourienne had already received +from Masha, the lady's maid, the necessary report of how handsome +the minister's son was, with his rosy cheeks and dark eyebrows, and +with what difficulty the father had dragged his legs upstairs while +the son had followed him like an eagle, three steps at a time. +Having received this information, the little princess and Mademoiselle +Bourienne, whose chattering voices had reached her from the +corridor, went into Princess Mary's room. + +"You know they've come, Marie?" said the little princess, waddling +in, and sinking heavily into an armchair. + +She was no longer in the loose gown she generally wore in the +morning, but had on one of her best dresses. Her hair was carefully +done and her face was animated, which, however, did not conceal its +sunken and faded outlines. Dressed as she used to be in Petersburg +society, it was still more noticeable how much plainer she had become. +Some unobtrusive touch had been added to Mademoiselle Bourienne's +toilet which rendered her fresh and prettyface yet more attractive. + +"What! Are you going to remain as you are, dear princess?" she +began. "They'll be announcing that the gentlemen are in the drawing +room and we shall have to go down, and you have not smartened yourself +up at all!" + +The little princess got up, rang for the maid, and hurriedly and +merrily began to devise and carry out a plan of how Princess Mary +should be dressed. Princess Mary's self-esteem was wounded by the fact +that the arrival of a suitor agitated her, and still more so by both +her companions' not having the least conception that it could be +otherwise. To tell them that she felt ashamed for herself and for them +would be to betray her agitation, while to decline their offers to +dress her would prolong their banter and insistence. She flushed, +her beautiful eyes grew dim, red blotches came on her face, and it +took on the unattractive martyrlike expression it so often wore, as +she submitted herself to Mademoiselle Bourienne and Lise. Both these +women quite sincerely tried to make her look pretty. She was so +plain that neither of them could think of her as a rival, so they +began dressing her with perfect sincerity, and with the naive and firm +conviction women have that dress can make a face pretty. + +"No really, my dear, this dress is not pretty," said Lise, looking +sideways at Princess Mary from a little distance. "You have a maroon +dress, have it fetched. Really! You know the fate of your whole life +may be at stake. But this one is too light, it's not becoming!" + +It was not the dress, but the face and whole figure of Princess Mary +that was not pretty, but neither Mademoiselle Bourienne nor the little +princess felt this; they still thought that if a blue ribbon were +placed in the hair, the hair combed up, and the blue scarf arranged +lower on the best maroon dress, and so on, all would be well. They +forgot that the frightened face and the figure could not be altered, +and that however they might change the setting and adornment of that +face, it would still remain piteous and plain. After two or three +changes to which Princess Mary meekly submitted, just as her hair +had been arranged on the top of her head (a style that quite altered +and spoiled her looks) and she had put on a maroon dress with a +pale-blue scarf, the little princess walked twice round her, now +adjusting a fold of the dress with her little hand, now arranging +the scarf and looking at her with her head bent first on one side +and then on the other. + +"No, it will not do," she said decidedly, clasping her hands. "No, +Mary, really this dress does not suit you. I prefer you in your little +gray everyday dress. Now please, do it for my sake. Katie," she said +to the maid, "bring the princess her gray dress, and you'll see, +Mademoiselle Bourienne, how I shall arrange it," she added, smiling +with a foretaste of artistic pleasure. + +But when Katie brought the required dress, Princess Mary remained +sitting motionless before the glass, looking at her face, and saw in +the mirror her eyes full of tears and her mouth quivering, ready to +burst into sobs. + +"Come, dear princess," said Mademoiselle Bourienne, "just one more +little effort." + +The little princess, taking the dress from the maid, came up to +Princess Mary. + +"Well, now we'll arrange something quite simple and becoming," she +said. + +The three voices, hers, Mademoiselle Bourienne's, and Katie's, who +was laughing at something, mingled in a merry sound, like the chirping +of birds. + +"No, leave me alone," said Princess Mary. + +Her voice sounded so serious and so sad that the chirping of the +birds was silenced at once. They looked at the beautiful, large, +thoughtful eyes full of tears and of thoughts, gazing shiningly and +imploringly at them, and understood that it was useless and even cruel +to insist. + +"At least, change your coiffure," said the little princess. +"Didn't I tell you," she went on, turning reproachfully to +Mademoiselle Bourienne, "Mary's is a face which such a coiffure does +not suit in the least. Not in the least! Please change it." + +"Leave me alone, please leave me alone! It is all quite the same +to me," answered a voice struggling with tears. + +Mademoiselle Bourienne and the little princess had to own to +themselves that Princess Mary in this guise looked very plain, worse +than usual, but it was too late. She was looking at them with an +expression they both knew, an expression thoughtful and sad. This +expression in Princess Mary did not frighten them (she never +inspired fear in anyone), but they knew that when it appeared on her +face, she became mute and was not to be shaken in her determination. + +"You will change it, won't you?" said Lise. And as Princess Mary +gave no answer, she left the room. + +Princess Mary was left alone. She did not comply with Lise's +request, she not only left her hair as it was, but did not even look +in her glass. Letting her arms fall helplessly, she sat with +downcast eyes and pondered. A husband, a man, a strong dominant and +strangely attractive being rose in her imagination, and carried her +into a totally different happy world of his own. She fancied a +child, her own- such as she had seen the day before in the arms of her +nurse's daughter- at her own breast, the husband standing by and +gazing tenderly at her and the child. "But no, it is impossible, I +am too ugly," she thought. + +"Please come to tea. The prince will be out in a moment," came the +maid's voice at the door. + +She roused herself, and felt appalled at what she had been thinking, +and before going down she went into the room where the icons hung and, +her eyes fixed on the dark face of a large icon of the Saviour lit +by a lamp, she stood before it with folded hands for a few moments. +A painful doubt filled her soul. Could the joy of love, of earthly +love for a man, be for her? In her thoughts of marriage Princess +Mary dreamed of happiness and of children, but her strongest, most +deeply hidden longing was for earthly love. The more she tried to hide +this feeling from others and even from herself, the stronger it +grew. "O God," she said, "how am I to stifle in my heart these +temptations of the devil? How am I to renounce forever these vile +fancies, so as peacefully to fulfill Thy will?" And scarcely had she +put that question than God gave her the answer in her own heart. +"Desire nothing for thyself, seek nothing, be not anxious or +envious. Man's future and thy own fate must remain hidden from thee, +but live so that thou mayest be ready for anything. If it be God's +will to prove thee in the duties of marriage, be ready to fulfill +His will." With this consoling thought (but yet with a hope for the +fulfillment of her forbidden earthly longing) Princess Mary sighed, +and having crossed herself went down, thinking neither of her gown and +coiffure nor of how she would go in nor of what she would say. What +could all that matter in comparison with the will of God, without +Whose care not a hair of man's head can fall? + +CHAPTER IV + +When Princess Mary came down, Prince Vasili and his son were already +in the drawing room, talking to the little princess and Mademoiselle +Bourienne. When she entered with her heavy step, treading on her +heels, the gentlemen and Mademoiselle Bourienne rose and the little +princess, indicating her to the gentlemen, said: "Voila Marie!" +Princess Mary saw them all and saw them in detail. She saw Prince +Vasili's face, serious for an instant at the sight of her, but +immediately smiling again, and the little princess curiously noting +the impression "Marie" produced on the visitors. And she saw +Mademoiselle Bourienne, with her ribbon and pretty face, and her +unusually animated look which was fixed on him, but him she could +not see, she only saw something large, brilliant, and handsome +moving toward her as she entered the room. Prince Vasili approached +first, and she kissed the bold forehead that bent over her hand and +answered his question by saying that, on the contrary, she +remembered him quite well. Then Anatole came up to her. She still +could not see him. She only felt a soft hand taking hers firmly, and +she touched with her lips a white forehead, over which was beautiful +light-brown hair smelling of pomade. When she looked up at him she was +struck by his beauty. Anatole stood with his right thumb under a +button of his uniform, his chest expanded and his back drawn in, +slightly swinging one foot, and, with his head a little bent, looked +with beaming face at the princess without speaking and evidently not +thinking about her at all. Anatole was not quick-witted, nor ready +or eloquent in conversation, but he had the faculty, so invaluable +in society, of composure and imperturbable self-possession. If a man +lacking in self-confidence remains dumb on a first introduction and +betrays a consciousness of the impropriety of such silence and an +anxiety to find something to say, the effect is bad. But Anatole was +dumb, swung his foot, and smilingly examined the princess' hair. It +was evident that he could be silent in this way for a very long +time. "If anyone finds this silence inconvenient, let him talk, but +I don't want to"' he seemed to say. Besides this, in his behavior to +women Anatole had a manner which particularly inspires in them +curiosity, awe, and even love- a supercilious consciousness of his own +superiority. It was was as if he said to them: "I know you, I know +you, but why should I bother about you? You'd be only too glad, of +course." Perhaps he did not really think this when he met women- +even probably he did not, for in general he thought very little- but +his looks and manner gave that impression. The princess felt this, and +as if wishing to show him that she did not even dare expect to +interest him, she turned to his father. The conversation was general +and animated, thanks to Princess Lise's voice and little downy lip +that lifted over her white teeth. She met Prince Vasili with that +playful manner often employed by lively chatty people, and +consisting in the assumption that between the person they so address +and themselves there are some semi-private, long-established jokes and +amusing reminiscences, though no such reminiscences really exist- just +as none existed in this case. Prince Vasili readily adopted her tone +and the little princess also drew Anatole, whom she hardly knew, +into these amusing recollections of things that had never occurred. +Mademoiselle Bourienne also shared them and even Princess Mary felt +herself pleasantly made to share in these merry reminiscences. + +"Here at least we shall have the benefit of your company all to +ourselves, dear prince," said the little princess (of course, in +French) to Prince Vasili. "It's not as at Annette's~^ receptions +where you always ran away; you remember cette chere Annette!" + +^~ Anna Pavlovna. + +"Ah, but you won't talk politics to me like Annette!" + +"And our little tea table?" + +"Oh, yes!" + +"Why is it you were never at Annette's?" the little princess asked +Anatole. "Ah, I know, I know," she said with a sly glance, "your +brother Hippolyte told me about your goings on. Oh!" and she shook her +finger at him, "I have even heard of your doings in Paris!" + +"And didn't Hippolyte tell you?" asked Prince Vasili, turning to his +son and seizing the little princess' arm as if she would have run away +and he had just managed to catch her, "didn't he tell you how he +himself was pining for the dear princess, and how she showed him the +door? Oh, she is a pearl among women, Princess," he added, turning +to Princess Mary. + +When Paris was mentioned, Mademoiselle Bourienne for her part seized +the opportunity of joining in the general current of recollections. + +She took the liberty of inquiring whether it was long since +Anatole had left Paris and how he had liked that city. Anatole +answered the Frenchwoman very readily and, looking at her with a +smile, talked to her about her native land. When he saw the pretty +little Bourienne, Anatole came to the conclusion that he would not +find Bald Hills dull either. "Not at all bad!" he thought, examining +her, "not at all bad, that little companion! I hope she will bring her +along with her when we're married, la petite est gentille."~^ + +^~ The little one is charming. + +The old prince dressed leisurely in his study, frowning and +considering what he was to do. The coming of these visitors annoyed +him. "What are Prince Vasili and that son of his to me? Prince +Vasili is a shallow braggart and his son, no doubt, is a fine +specimen," he grumbled to himself. What angered him was that the +coming of these visitors revived in his mind an unsettled question +he always tried to stifle, one about which he always deceived himself. +The question was whether he could ever bring himself to part from +his daughter and give her to a husband. The prince never directly +asked himself that question, knowing beforehand that he would have +to answer it justly, and justice clashed not only with his feelings +but with the very possibility of life. Life without Princess Mary, +little as he seemed to value her, was unthinkable to him. "And why +should she marry?" he thought. "To be unhappy for certain. There's +Lise, married to Andrew- a better husband one would think could hardly +be found nowadays- but is she contented with her lot? And who would +marry Marie for love? Plain and awkward! They'll take her for her +connections and wealth. Are there no women living unmarried, and +even the happier for it?" So thought Prince Bolkonski while +dressing, and yet the question he was always putting off demanded an +immediate answer. Prince Vasili had brought his son with the evident +intention of proposing, and today or tomorrow he would probably ask +for an answer. His birth and position in society were not bad. +"Well, I've nothing against it," the prince said to himself, "but he +must be worthy of her. And that is what we shall see." + +"That is what we shall see! That is what we shall see!" he added +aloud. + +He entered the drawing room with his usual alert step, glancing +rapidly round the company. He noticed the change in the little +princess' dress, Mademoiselle Bourienne's ribbon, Princess Mary's +unbecoming coiffure, Mademoiselle Bourienne's and Anatole's smiles, +and the loneliness of his daughter amid the general conversation. "Got +herself up like a fool!" he thought, looking irritably at her. "She is +shameless, and he ignores her!" + +He went straight up to Prince Vasili. + +"Well! How d'ye do? How d'ye do? Glad to see you!" + +"Friendship laughs at distance," began Prince Vasili in his usual +rapid, self-confident, familiar tone. "Here is my second son; please +love and befriend him." + +Prince Bolkonski surveyed Anatole. + +"Fine young fellow! Fine young fellow!" he said. "Well, come and +kiss me," and he offered his cheek. + +Anatole kissed the old man, and looked at him with curiosity and +perfect composure, waiting for a display of the eccentricities his +father had told him to expect. + +Prince Bolkonski sat down in his usual place in the corner of the +sofa and, drawing up an armchair for Prince Vasili, pointed to it +and began questioning him about political affairs and news. He +seemed to listen attentively to what Prince Vasili said, but kept +glancing at Princess Mary. + +"And so they are writing from Potsdam already?" he said, repeating +Prince Vasili's last words. Then rising, he suddenly went up to his +daughter. + +"Is it for visitors you've got yourself up like that, eh?" said +he. "Fine, very fine! You have done up your hair in this new way for +the visitors, and before the visitors I tell you that in future you +are never to dare to change your way of dress without my consent." + +"It was my fault, mon pere," interceded the little princess, with +a blush. + +"You must do as you please," said Prince Bolkonski, bowing to his +daughter-in-law, "but she need not make a fool of herself, she's plain +enough as it is." + +And he sat down again, paying no more attention to his daughter, who +was reduced to tears. + +"On the contrary, that coiffure suits the princess very well," +said Prince Vasili. + +"Now you, young prince, what's your name?" said Prince Bolkonski, +turning to Anatole, "come here, let us talk and get acquainted." + +"Now the fun begins," thought Anatole, sitting down with a smile +beside the old prince. + +"Well, my dear boy, I hear you've been educated abroad, not taught +to read and write by the deacon, like your father and me. Now tell me, +my dear boy, are you serving in the Horse Guards?" asked the old +man, scrutinizing Anatole closely and intently. + +"No, I have been transferred to the line," said Anatole, hardly able +to restrain his laughter. + +"Ah! That's a good thing. So, my dear boy, you wish to serve the +Tsar and the country? It is wartime. Such a fine fellow must serve. +Well, are you off to the front?" + +"No, Prince, our regiment has gone to the front, but I am +attached... what is it I am attached to, Papa?" said Anatole, +turning to his father with a laugh. + +"A splendid soldier, splendid! 'What am I attached to!' Ha, ha, ha!" +laughed Prince Bolkonski, and Anatole laughed still louder. Suddenly +Prince Bolkonski frowned. + +"You may go," he said to Anatole. + +Anatole returned smiling to the ladies. + +"And so you've had him educated abroad, Prince Vasili, haven't you?" +said the old prince to Prince Vasili. + +"I have done my best for him, and I can assure you the education +there is much better than ours." + +"Yes, everything is different nowadays, everything is changed. The +lad's a fine fellow, a fine fellow! Well, come with me now." He took +Prince Vasili's arm and led him to his study. As soon as they were +alone together, Prince Vasili announced his hopes and wishes to the +old prince. + +"Well, do you think I shall prevent her, that I can't part from +her?" said the old prince angrily. "What an idea! I'm ready for it +tomorrow! Only let me tell you, I want to know my son-in-law better. +You know my principles- everything aboveboard? I will ask her tomorrow +in your presence; if she is willing, then he can stay on. He can +stay and I'll see." The old prince snorted. "Let her marry, it's all +the same to me!" he screamed in the same piercing tone as when parting +from his son. + +"I will tell you frankly," said Prince Vasili in the tone of a +crafty man convinced of the futility of being cunning with so +keen-sighted companion. "You know, you see right through people. +Anatole is no genius, but he is an honest, goodhearted lad; an +excellent son or kinsman." + +"All right, all right, we'll see!" + +As always happens when women lead lonely lives for any length of +time without male society, on Anatole's appearance all the three women +of Prince Bolkonski's household felt that their life had not been real +till then. Their powers of reasoning, feeling, and observing +immediately increased tenfold, and their life, which seemed to have +been passed in darkness, was suddenly lit up by a new brightness, full +of significance. + +Princess Mary grew quite unconscious of her face and coiffure. The +handsome open face of the man who might perhaps be her husband +absorbed all her attention. He seemed to her kind, brave, +determined, manly, and magnanimous. She felt convinced of that. +Thousands of dreams of a future family life continually rose in her +imagination. She drove them away and tried to conceal them. + +"But am I not too cold with him?" thought the princess. "I try to be +reserved because in the depth of my soul I feel too near to him +already, but then he cannot know what I think of him and may imagine +that I do not like him." + +And Princess Mary tried, but could not manage, to be cordial to +her new guest. "Poor girl, she's devilish ugly!" thought Anatole. + +Mademoiselle Bourienne, also roused to great excitement by Anatole's +arrival, thought in another way. Of course, she, a handsome young +woman without any definite position, without relations or even a +country, did not intend to devote her life to serving Prince +Bolkonski, to reading aloud to him and being friends with Princess +Mary. Mademoiselle Bourienne had long been waiting for a Russian +prince who, able to appreciate at a glance her superiority to the +plain, badly dressed, ungainly Russian princesses, would fall in +love with her and carry her off; and here at last was a Russian +prince. Mademoiselle Bourienne knew a story, heard from her aunt but +finished in her own way, which she liked to repeat to herself. It +was the story of a girl who had been seduced, and to whom her poor +mother (sa pauvre mere) appeared, and reproached her for yielding to a +man without being married. Mademoiselle Bourienne was often touched to +tears as in imagination she told this story to him, her seducer. And +now he, a real Russian prince, had appeared. He would carry her away +and then sa pauvre mere would appear and he would marry her. So her +future shaped itself in Mademoiselle Bourienne's head at the very time +she was talking to Anatole about Paris. It was not calculation that +guided her (she did not even for a moment consider what she should +do), but all this had long been familiar to her, and now that +Anatole had appeared it just grouped itself around him and she +wished and tried to please him as much as possible. + +The little princess, like an old war horse that hears the trumpet, +unconsciously and quite forgetting her condition, prepared for the +familiar gallop of coquetry, without any ulterior motive or any +struggle, but with naive and lighthearted gaiety. + +Although in female society Anatole usually assumed the role of a man +tired of being run after by women, his vanity was flattered by the +spectacle of his power over these three women. Besides that, he was +beginning to feel for the pretty and provocative Mademoiselle +Bourienne that passionate animal feeling which was apt to master him +with great suddenness and prompt him to the coarsest and most reckless +actions. + +After tea, the company went into the sitting room and Princess +Mary was asked to play on the clavichord. Anatole, laughing and in +high spirits, came and leaned on his elbows, facing her and beside +Mademoiselle Bourienne. Princess Mary felt his look with a painfully +joyous emotion. Her favorite sonata bore her into a most intimately +poetic world and the look she felt upon her made that world still more +poetic. But Anatole's expression, though his eyes were fixed on her, +referred not to her but to the movements of Mademoiselle Bourienne's +little foot, which he was then touching with his own under the +clavichord. Mademoiselle Bourienne was also looking at Princess +Mary, and in her lovely eyes there was a look of fearful joy and +hope that was also new to the princess. + +"How she loves me!" thought Princess Mary. "How happy I am now, +and how happy I may be with such a friend and such a husband! Husband? +Can it be possible?" she thought, not daring to look at his face, +but still feeling his eyes gazing at her. + +In the evening, after supper, when all were about to retire, Anatole +kissed Princess Mary's hand. She did not know how she found the +courage, but she looked straight into his handsome face as it came +near to her shortsighted eyes. Turning from Princess Mary he went up +and kissed Mademoiselle Bourienne's hand. (This was not etiquette, but +then he did everything so simply and with such assurance!) +Mademoiselle Bourienne flushed, and gave the princess a frightened +look. + +"What delicacy! " thought the princess. "Is it possible that Amelie" +(Mademoiselle Bourienne) "thinks I could be jealous of her, and not +value her pure affection and devotion to me?" She went up to her and +kissed her warmly. Anatole went up to kiss the little princess' hand. + +"No! No! No! When your father writes to tell me that you are +behaving well I will give you my hand to kiss. Not till then!" she +said. And smilingly raising a finger at him, she left the room. + +CHAPTER V + +They all separated, but, except Anatole who fell asleep as soon as +he got into bed, all kept awake a long time that night. + +"Is he really to be my husband, this stranger who is so kind- yes, +kind, that is the chief thing," thought Princess Mary; and fear, which +she had seldom experienced, came upon her. She feared to look round, +it seemed to her that someone was there standing behind the screen +in the dark corner. And this someone was he- the devil- and he was +also this man with the white forehead, black eyebrows, and red lips. + +She rang for her maid and asked her to sleep in her room. + +Mademoiselle Bourienne walked up and down the conservatory for a +long time that evening, vainly expecting someone, now smiling at +someone, now working herself up to tears with the imaginary words of +her pauvre mere rebuking her for her fall. + +The little princess grumbled to her maid that her bed was badly +made. She could not lie either on her face or on her side. Every +position was awkward and uncomfortable, and her burden oppressed her +now more than ever because Anatole's presence had vividly recalled +to her the time when she was not like that and when everything was +light and gay. She sat in an armchair in her dressing jacket and +nightcap and Katie, sleepy and disheveled, beat and turned the heavy +feather bed for the third time, muttering to herself. + +"I told you it was all lumps and holes!" the little princess +repeated. "I should be glad enough to fall asleep, so it's not my +fault!" and her voice quivered like that of a child about to cry. + +The old prince did not sleep either. Tikhon, half asleep, heard +him pacing angrily about and snorting. The old prince felt as though + +he had been insulted through his daughter. The insult was the more +pointed because it concerned not himself but another, his daughter, +whom he loved more than himself. He kept telling himself that he would +consider the whole matter and decide what was right and how he +should act, but instead of that he only excited himself more and more. + +"The first man that turns up- she forgets her father and +everything else, runs upstairs and does up her hair and wags her +tail and is unlike herself! Glad to throw her father over! And she +knew I should notice it. Fr... fr... fr! And don't I see that that +idiot had eyes only for Bourienne- I shall have to get rid of her. And +how is it she has not pride enough to see it? If she has no pride +for herself she might at least have some for my sake! She must be +shown that the blockhead thinks nothing of her and looks only at +Bourienne. No, she has no pride... but I'll let her see...." + +The old prince knew that if he told his daughter she was making a +mistake and that Anatole meant to flirt with Mademoiselle Bourienne, +Princess Mary's self-esteem would be wounded and his point (not to +be parted from her) would be gained, so pacifying himself with this +thought, he called Tikhon and began to undress. + +"What devil brought them here?" thought he, while Tikhon was putting +the nightshirt over his dried-up old body and gray-haired chest. "I +never invited them. They came to disturb my life- and there is not +much of it left." + +"Devil take 'em!" he muttered, while his head was still covered by +the shirt. + +Tikhon knew his master's habit of sometimes thinking aloud, and +therefore met with unaltered looks the angrily inquisitive +expression of the face that emerged from the shirt. + +"Gone to bed?" asked the prince. + +Tikhon, like all good valets, instinctively knew the direction of +his master's thoughts. He guessed that the question referred to Prince +Vasili and his son. + +"They have gone to bed and put out their lights, your excellency." + +"No good... no good..." said the prince rapidly, and thrusting his +feet into his slippers and his arms into the sleeves of his dressing +gown, he went to the couch on which he slept. + +Though no words had passed between Anatole and Mademoiselle +Bourienne, they quite understood one another as to the first part of +their romance, up to the appearance of the pauvre mere; they +understood that they had much to say to one another in private and +so they had been seeking an opportunity since morning to meet one +another alone. When Princess Mary went to her father's room at the +usual hour, Mademoiselle Bourienne and Anatole met in the +conservatory. + +Princess Mary went to the door of the study with special +trepidation. It seemed to her that not only did everybody know that +her fate would be decided that day, but that they also knew what she +thought about it. She read this in Tikhon's face and in that of Prince +Vasili's valet, who made her a low bow when she met him in the +corridor carrying hot water. + +The old prince was very affectionate and careful in his treatment of +his daughter that morning. Princess Mary well knew this painstaking +expression of her father's. His face wore that expression when his dry +hands clenched with vexation at her not understanding a sum in +arithmetic, when rising from his chair he would walk away from her, +repeating in a low voice the same words several times over. + +He came to the point at once, treating her ceremoniously. + +"I have had a proposition made me concerning you," he said with an +unnatural smile. "I expect you have guessed that Prince Vasili has not +come and brought his pupil with him" (for some reason Prince Bolkonski +referred to Anatole as a "pupil") "for the sake of my beautiful +eyes. Last night a proposition was made me on your account and, as you +know my principles, I refer it to you." + +"How am I to understand you, mon pere?" said the princess, growing +pale and then blushing. + +"How understand me!" cried her father angrily. "Prince Vasili +finds you to his taste as a daughter-in-law and makes a proposal to +you on his pupil's behalf. That's how it's to be understood! 'How +understand it'!... And I ask you!" + +"I do not know what you think, Father," whispered the princess. + +"I? I? What of me? Leave me out of the question. I'm not going to +get married. What about you? That's what I want to know." + +The princess saw that her father regarded the matter with +disapproval, but at that moment the thought occurred to her that her +fate would be decided now or never. She lowered her eyes so as not +to see the gaze under which she felt that she could not think, but +would only be able to submit from habit, and she said: "I wish only to +do your will, but if I had to express my own desire..." She had no +time to finish. The old prince interrupted her. + +"That's admirable!" he shouted. "He will take you with your dowry +and take Mademoiselle Bourienne into the bargain. She'll be the +wife, while you..." + +The prince stopped. He saw the effect these words had produced on +his daughter. She lowered her head and was ready to burst into tears. + +"Now then, now then, I'm only joking!" he said. "Remember this, +Princess, I hold to the principle that a maiden has a full right to +choose. I give you freedom. Only remember that your life's happiness +depends on your decision. Never mind me!" + +"But I do not know, Father!" + +"There's no need to talk! He receives his orders and will marry +you or anybody; but you are free to choose.... Go to your room, +think it over, and come back in an hour and tell me in his presence: +yes or no. I know you will pray over it. Well, pray if you like, but +you had better think it over. Go! Yes or no, yes or no, yes or no!" he +still shouted when the princess, as if lost in a fog, had already +staggered out of the study. + +Her fate was decided and happily decided. But what her father had +said about Mademoiselle Bourienne was dreadful. It was untrue to be +sure, but still it was terrible, and she could not help thinking of +it. She was going straight on through the conservatory, neither seeing +nor hearing anything, when suddenly the well-known whispering of +Mademoiselle Bourienne aroused her. She raised her eyes, and two steps +away saw Anatole embracing the Frenchwoman and whispering something to +her. With a horrified expression on his handsome face, Anatole +looked at Princess Mary, but did not at once take his arm from the +waist of Mademoiselle Bourienne who had not yet seen her. + +"Who's that? Why? Wait a moment!" Anatole's face seemed to say. +Princess Mary looked at them in silence. She could not understand +it. At last Mademoiselle Bourienne gave a scream and ran away. Anatole +bowed to Princess Mary with a gay smile, as if inviting her to join in +a laugh at this strange incident, and then shrugging his shoulders +went to the door that led to his own apartments. + +An hour later, Tikhon came to call Princess Mary to the old +prince; he added that Prince Vasili was also there. When Tikhon came +to her Princess Mary was sitting on the sofa in her room, holding +the weeping Mademoiselle Bourienne in her arms and gently stroking her +hair. The princess' beautiful eyes with all their former calm radiance +were looking with tender affection and pity at Mademoiselle +Bourienne's pretty face. + +"No, Princess, I have lost your affection forever!" said +Mademoiselle Bourienne. + +"Why? I love you more than ever," said Princess Mary, "and I will +try to do all I can for your happiness." + +"But you despise me. You who are so pure can never understand +being so carried away by passion. Oh, only my poor mother..." + +"I quite understand," answered Princess Mary, with a sad smile. +"Calm yourself, my dear. I will go to my father," she said, and went +out. + +Prince Vasili, with one leg thrown high over the other and a +snuffbox in his hand, was sitting there with a smile of deep emotion +on his face, as if stirred to his heart's core and himself +regretting and laughing at his own sensibility, when Princess Mary +entered. He hurriedly took a pinch of snuff. + +"Ah, my dear, my dear!" he began, rising and taking her by both +hands. Then, sighing, he added: "My son's fate is in your hands. +Decide, my dear, good, gentle Marie, whom I have always loved as a +daughter!" + +He drew back and a real tear appeared in his eye. + +"Fr... fr..." snorted Prince Bolkonski. "The prince is making a +proposition to you in his pupil's- I mean, his son's- name. Do you +wish or not to be Prince Anatole Kuragin's wife? Reply: yes or no," he +shouted, "and then I shall reserve the right to state my opinion also. +Yes, my opinion, and only my opinion," added Prince Bolkonski, turning +to Prince Vasili and answering his imploring look. "Yes, or no?" + +"My desire is never to leave you, Father, never to separate my +life from yours. I don't wish to marry," she answered positively, +glancing at Prince Vasili and at her father with her beautiful eyes. + +"Humbug! Nonsense! Humbug, humbug, humbug!" cried Prince +Bolkonski, frowning and taking his daughter's hand; he did not kiss +her, but only bending his forehead to hers just touched it, and +pressed her hand so that she winced and uttered a cry. + +Prince Vasili rose. + +"My dear, I must tell you that this is a moment I shall never, never +forget. But, my dear, will you not give us a little hope of touching +this heart, so kind and generous? Say 'perhaps'... The future is so +long. Say 'perhaps.'" + +"Prince, what I have said is all there is in my heart. I thank you +for the honor, but I shall never be your son's wife." + +"Well, so that's finished, my dear fellow! I am very glad to have +seen you. Very glad! Go back to your rooms, Princess. Go!" said the +old prince. "Very, very glad to glad to have seen you," repeated he, +embracing Prince Vasili. + +"My vocation is a different one," thought Princess Mary. "My +vocation is to be happy with another kind of happiness, the +happiness of love and self-sacrifice. And cost what it may, I will +arrange poor Amelie's happiness, she loves him so passionately, and so +passionately repents. I will do all I can to arrange the match between +them. If he is not rich I will give her the means; I will ask my +father and Andrew. I shall be so happy when she is his wife. She is so +unfortunate, a stranger, alone, helpless! And, oh God, how +passionately she must love him if she could so far forget herself! +Perhaps I might have done the same!..." thought Princess Mary. + +CHAPTER VI + +It was long since the Rostovs had news of Nicholas. Not till +midwinter was the count at last handed a letter addressed in his son's +handwriting. On receiving it, he ran on tiptoe to his study in alarm +and haste, trying to escape notice, closed the door, and began to read +the letter. + +Anna Mikhaylovna, who always knew everything that passed in the +house, on hearing of the arrival of the letter went softly into the +room and found the count with it in his hand, sobbing and laughing +at the same time. + +Anna Mikhaylovna, though her circumstances had improved, was still +living with the Rostovs. + +"My dear friend?" said she, in a tone of pathetic inquiry, +prepared to sympathize in any way. + +The count sobbed yet more. + +"Nikolenka... a letter... wa... a... s... wounded... my darling +boy... the countess... promoted to be an officer... thank God... How +tell the little countess!" + +Anna Mikhaylovna sat down beside him, with her own handkerchief +wiped the tears from his eyes and from the letter, then having dried +her own eyes she comforted the count, and decided that at dinner and +till teatime she would prepare the countess, and after tea, with God's +help, would inform her. + +At dinner Anna Mikhaylovna talked the whole time about the war +news and about Nikolenka, twice asked when the last letter had been +received from him, though she knew that already, and remarked that +they might very likely be getting a letter from him that day. Each +time that these hints began to make the countess anxious and she +glanced uneasily at the count and at Anna Mikhaylovna, the latter very +adroitly turned the conversation to insignificant matters. Natasha, +who, of the whole family, was the most gifted with a capacity to +feel any shades of intonation, look, and expression, pricked up her +ears from the beginning of the meal and was certain that there was +some secret between her father and Anna Mikhaylovna, that it had +something to do with her brother, and that Anna Mikhaylovna was +preparing them for it. Bold as she was, Natasha, who knew how +sensitive her mother was to anything relating to Nikolenka, did not +venture to ask any questions at dinner, but she was too excited to eat +anything and kept wriggling about on her chair regardless of her +governess' remarks. After dinner, she rushed head long after Anna +Mikhaylovna and, dashing at her, flung herself on her neck as soon +as she overtook her in the sitting room. + +"Auntie, darling, do tell me what it is!" + +"Nothing, my dear." + +"No, dearest, sweet one, honey, I won't give up- I know you know +something." + +Anna Mikhaylovna shook her head. + +"You are a little slyboots," she said. + +"A letter from Nikolenka! I'm sure of it!" exclaimed Natasha, +reading confirmation in Anna Mikhaylovna's face. + +"But for God's sake, be careful, you know how it may affect your +mamma." + +"I will, I will, only tell me! You won't? Then I will go and tell at +once." + +Anna Mikhaylovna, in a few words, told her the contents of the +letter, on condition that she should tell no one. + +"No, on my true word of honor," said Natasha,crossing herself, "I +won't tell anyone!" and she ran off at once to Sonya. + +"Nikolenka... wounded... a letter," she announced in gleeful +triumph. + +"Nicholas!" was all Sonya said, instantly turning white. + +Natasha, seeing the impression the of her brother's wound produced +on Sonya, felt for the first time the sorrowful side of the news. + +She rushed to Sonya, hugged her, and began to cry. + +"A little wound, but he has been made an officer; he is well now, he +wrote himself," said she through her tears. + +"There now! It's true that all you women are crybabies," remarked +Petya, pacing the room with large, resolute strides. "Now I'm very +glad, very glad indeed, that my brother has distinguished himself +so. You are all blubberers and understand nothing." + +Natasha smiled through her tears. + +"You haven't read the letter?" asked Sonya. + +"No, but she said that it was all over and that he's now an +officer." + +"Thank God!" said Sonya, crossing herself. "But perhaps she deceived +you. Let us go to Mamma." + +Petya paced the room in silence for a time. + +"If I'd been in Nikolenka's place I would have killed even more of +those Frenchmen," he said. "What nasty brutes they are! I'd have +killed so many that there'd have been a heap of them." + +"Hold your tongue, Petya, what a goose you are!" + +"I'm not a goose, but they are who cry about trifles," said Petya. + +"Do you remember him?" Natasha suddenly asked, after a moment's +silence. + +Sonya smiled. + +"Do I remember Nicholas?" + +"No, Sonya, but do you remember so that you remember him +perfectly, remember everything?" said Natasha, with an expressive +gesture, evidently wishing to give her words a very definite +meaning. "I remember Nikolenka too, I remember him well," she said. +"But I don't remember Boris. I don't remember him a bit." + +"What! You don't remember Boris?" asked Sonya in surprise. + +"It's not that I don't remember- I know what he is like, but not +as I remember Nikolenka. Him- I just shut my eyes and remember, but +Boris... No!" (She shut her eyes.)"No! there's nothing at all." + +"Oh, Natasha!" said Sonya, looking ecstatically and earnestly at her +friend as if she did not consider her worthy to hear what she meant to +say and as if she were saying it to someone else, with whom joking was +out of the question, "I am in love with your brother once for all and, +whatever may happen to him or to me, shall never cease to love him +as long as I live." + +Natasha looked at Sonya with wondering and inquisitive eyes, and +said nothing. She felt that Sonya was speaking the truth, that there +was such love as Sonya was speaking of. But Natasha had not yet felt +anything like it. She believed it could be, but did not understand it. + +"Shall you write to him?" she asked. + +Sonya became thoughtful. The question of how to write to Nicholas, +and whether she ought to write, tormented her. Now that he was already +an officer and a wounded hero, would it be right to remind him of +herself and, as it might seem, of the obligations to her he had +taken on himself? + +"I don't know. I think if he writes, I will write too," she said, +blushing. + +"And you won't feel ashamed to write to him?" + +Sonya smiled. + +"No." + +"And I should be ashamed to write to Boris. I'm not going to." + +"Why should you be ashamed?" + +"Well, I don't know. It's awkward and would make me ashamed." + +"And I know why she'd be ashamed," said Petya, offended by Natasha's +previous remark. "It's because she was in love with that fat one in +spectacles" (that was how Petya described his namesake, the new +Count Bezukhov) "and now she's in love with that singer" (he meant +Natasha's Italian singing master), "that's why she's ashamed!" + +"Petya, you're a stupid!" said Natasha. + +"Not more stupid than you, madam," said the nine-year-old Petya, +with the air of an old brigadier. + +The countess had been prepared by Anna Mikhaylovna's hints at +dinner. On retiring to her own room, she sat in an armchair, her +eyes fixed on a miniature portrait of her son on the lid of a +snuffbox, while the tears kept coming into her eyes. Anna Mikhaylovna, +with the letter, came on tiptoe to the countess' door and paused. + +"Don't come in," she said to the old count who was following her. +"Come later." And she went in, closing the door behind her. + +The count put his ear to the keyhole and listened. + +At first he heard the sound of indifferent voices, then Anna +Mikhaylovna's voice alone in a long speech, then a cry, then +silence, then both voices together with glad intonations, and then +footsteps. Anna Mikhaylovna opened the door. Her face wore the proud +expression of a surgeon who has just performed a difficult operation +and admits the public to appreciate his skill. + +"It is done!" she said to the count, pointing triumphantly to the +countess, who sat holding in one hand the snuffbox with its portrait +and in the other the letter, and pressing them alternately to her +lips. + +When she saw the count, she stretched out her arms to him, +embraced his bald head, over which she again looked at the letter +and the portrait, and in order to press them again to her lips, she +slightly pushed away the bald head. Vera, Natasha, Sonya, and Petya +now entered the room, and the reading of the letter began. After a +brief description of the campaign and the two battles in which he +had taken part, and his promotion, Nicholas said that he kissed his +father's and mother's hands asking for their blessing, and that he +kissed Vera, Natasha, and Petya. Besides that, he sent greetings to +Monsieur Schelling, Madame Schoss, and his old nurse, and asked them +to kiss for him "dear Sonya, whom he loved and thought of just the +same as ever." When she heard this Sonya blushed so that tears came +into her eyes and, unable to bear the looks turned upon her, ran +away into the dancing hall, whirled round it at full speed with her +dress puffed out like a balloon, and, flushed and smiling, plumped +down on the floor. The countess was crying. + +"Why are you crying, Mamma?" asked Vera. "From all he says one +should be glad and not cry." + +This was quite true, but the count, the countess, and Natasha looked +at her reproachfully. "And who is it she takes after?" thought the +countess. + +Nicholas' letter was read over hundreds of times, and those who were +considered worthy to hear it had to come to the countess, for she +did not let it out of her hands. The tutors came, and the nurses, +and Dmitri, and several acquaintances, and the countess reread the +letter each time with fresh pleasure and each time discovered in it +fresh proofs of Nikolenka's virtues. How strange, how extraordinary, +how joyful it seemed, that her son, the scarcely perceptible motion of +whose tiny limbs she had felt twenty years ago within her, that son +about whom she used to have quarrels with the too indulgent count, +that son who had first learned to say "pear" and then "granny," that +this son should now be away in a foreign land amid strange +surroundings, a manly warrior doing some kind of man's work of his +own, without help or guidance. The universal experience of ages, +showing that children do grow imperceptibly from the cradle to +manhood, did not exist for the countess. Her son's growth toward +manhood, at each of its stages, had seemed as extraordinary to her +as if there had never existed the millions of human beings who grew up +in the same way. As twenty years before, it seemed impossible that the +little creature who lived somewhere under her heart would ever cry, +suck her breast, and begin to speak, so now she could not believe that +that little creature could be this strong, brave man, this model son +and officer that, judging by this letter, he now was. + +"What a style! How charmingly he describes!" said she, reading the +descriptive part of the letter. "And what a soul! Not a word about +himself.... Not a word! About some Denisov or other, though he +himself, I dare say, is braver than any of them. He says nothing about +his sufferings. What a heart! How like him it is! And how he has +remembered everybody! Not forgetting anyone. I always said when he was +only so high- I always said...." + +For more than a week preparations were being made, rough drafts of +letters to Nicholas from all the household were written and copied +out, while under the supervision of the countess and the solicitude of +the count, money and all things necessary for the uniform and +equipment of the newly commissioned officer were collected. Anna +Mikhaylovna, practical woman that she was, had even managed by favor +with army authorities to secure advantageous means of communication +for herself and her son. She had opportunities of sending her +letters to the Grand Duke Constantine Pavlovich, who commanded the +Guards. The Rostovs supposed that The Russian Guards, Abroad, was +quite a definite address, and that if a letter reached the Grand +Duke in command of the Guards there was no reason why it should not +reach the Pavlograd regiment, which was presumably somewhere in the +same neighborhood. And so it was decided to send the letters and money +by the Grand Duke's courier to Boris and Boris was to forward them +to Nicholas. The letters were from the old count, the countess, Petya, +Vera, Natasha, and Sonya, and finally there were six thousand rubles +for his outfit and various other things the old count sent to his son. + +CHAPTER VII + +On the twelfth of November, Kutuzov's active army, in camp before +Olmutz, was preparing to be reviewed next day by the two Emperors- the +Russian and the Austrian. The Guards, just arrived from Russia, +spent the night ten miles from Olmutz and next morning were to come +straight to the review, reaching the field at Olmutz by ten o'clock. + +That day Nicholas Rostov received a letter from Boris, telling him +that the Ismaylov regiment was quartered for the night ten miles +from Olmutz and that he wanted to see him as he had a letter and money +for him. Rostov was particularly in need of money now that the troops, +after their active service, were stationed near Olmutz and the camp +swarmed with well-provisioned sutlers and Austrian Jews offering all +sorts of tempting wares. The Pavlograds held feast after feast, +celebrating awards they had received for the campaign, and made +expeditions to Olmutz to visit a certain Caroline the Hungarian, who +had recently opened a restaurant there with girls as waitresses. +Rostov, who had just celebrated his promotion to a cornetcy and bought +Denisov's horse, Bedouin, was in debt all round, to his comrades and +the sutlers. On receiving Boris' letter he rode with a fellow +officer to Olmutz, dined there, drank a bottle of wine, and then set +off alone to the Guards' camp to find his old playmate. Rostov had not +yet had time to get his uniform. He had on a shabby cadet jacket, +decorated with a soldier's cross, equally shabby cadet's riding +breeches lined with worn leather, and an officer's saber with a +sword knot. The Don horse he was riding was one he had bought from a +Cossack during the campaign, and he wore a crumpled hussar cap stuck +jauntily back on one side of his head. As he rode up to the camp he +thought how he would impress Boris and all his comrades of the +Guards by his appearance- that of a fighting hussar who had been under +fire. + +The Guards had made their whole march as if on a pleasure trip, +parading their cleanliness and discipline. They had come by easy +stages, their knapsacks conveyed on carts, and the Austrian +authorities had provided excellent dinners for the officers at every +halting place. The regiments had entered and left the town with +their bands playing, and by the Grand Duke's orders the men had +marched all the way in step (a practice on which the Guards prided +themselves), the officers on foot and at their proper posts. Boris had +been quartered, and had marched all the way, with Berg who was already +in command of a company. Berg, who had obtained his captaincy during +the campaign, had gained the confidence of his superiors by his +promptitude and accuracy and had arranged his money matters very +satisfactorily. Boris, during the campaign, had made the +acquaintance of many persons who might prove useful to him, and by a +letter of recommendation he had brought from Pierre had become +acquainted with Prince Andrew Bolkonski, through whom he hoped to +obtain a post on the commander in chief's staff. Berg and Boris, +having rested after yesterday's march, were sitting, clean and +neatly dressed, at a round table in the clean quarters allotted to +them, playing chess. Berg held a smoking pipe between his knees. +Boris, in the accurate way characteristic of him, was building a +little pyramid of chessmen with his delicate white fingers while +awaiting Berg's move, and watched his opponent's face, evidently +thinking about the game as he always thought only of whatever he was +engaged on. + +"Well, how are you going to get out of that?" he remarked. + +"We'll try to," replied Berg, touching a pawn and then removing +his hand. + +At that moment the door opened. + +"Here he is at last!" shouted Rostov. "And Berg too! Oh, you +petisenfans, allay cushay dormir!" he exclaimed, imitating his Russian +nurse's French, at which he and Boris used to laugh long ago. + +"Dear me, how you have changed!" + +Boris rose to meet Rostov, but in doing so did not omit to steady +and replace some chessmen that were falling. He was about to embrace +his friend, but Nicholas avoided him. With that peculiar feeling of +youth, that dread of beaten tracks, and wish to express itself in a +manner different from that of its elders which is often insincere, +Nicholas wished to do something special on meeting his friend. He +wanted to pinch him, push him, do anything but kiss him- a thing +everybody did. But notwithstanding this, Boris embraced him in a +quiet, friendly way and kissed him three times. + +They had not met for nearly half a year and, being at the age when +young men take their first steps on life's road, each saw immense +changes in the other, quite a new reflection of the society in which +they had taken those first steps. Both had changed greatly since +they last met and both were in a hurry to show the changes that had +taken place in them. + +"Oh, you damned dandies! Clean and fresh as if you'd been to a fete, +not like us sinners of the line," cried Rostov, with martial swagger +and with baritone notes in his voice, new to Boris, pointing to his +own mud-bespattered breeches. The German landlady, hearing Rostov's +loud voice, popped her head in at the door. + +"Eh, is she pretty?" he asked with a wink. + +"Why do you shout so? You'll frighten them!" said Boris. "I did +not expect you today," he added. "I only sent you the note yesterday +by Bolkonski- an adjutant of Kutuzov's, who's a friend of mine. I +did not think he would get it to you so quickly.... Well, how are you? +Been under fire already?" asked Boris. + +Without answering, Rostov shook the soldier's Cross of St. George +fastened to the cording of his uniform and, indicating a bandaged arm, +glanced at Berg with a smile. + +"As you see," he said. + +"Indeed? Yes, yes!" said Boris, with a smile. "And we too have had a +splendid march. You know, of course, that His Imperial Highness rode +with our regiment all the time, so that we had every comfort and every +advantage. What receptions we had in Poland! What dinners and balls! I +can't tell you. And the Tsarevich was very gracious to all our +officers." + +And the two friends told each other of their doings, the one of +his hussar revels and life in the fighting line, the other of the +pleasures and advantages of service under members of the Imperial +family. + +"Oh, you Guards!" said Rostov. "I say, send for some wine." + +Boris made a grimace. + +"If you really want it," said he. + +He went to his bed, drew a purse from under the clean pillow, and +sent for wine. + +"Yes, and I have some money and a letter to give you," he added. + +Rostov took the letter and, throwing the money on the sofa, put both +arms on the table and began to read. After reading a few lines, he +glanced angrily at Berg, then, meeting his eyes, hid his face behind +the letter. + +"Well, they've sent you a tidy sum," said Berg, eying the heavy +purse that sank into the sofa. "As for us, Count, we get along on +our pay. I can tell you for myself..." + +"I say, Berg, my dear fellow," said Rostov, "when you get a letter +from home and meet one of your own people whom you want to talk +everything over with, and I happen to be there, I'll go at once, to be +out of your way! Do go somewhere, anywhere... to the devil!" he +exclaimed, and immediately seizing him by the shoulder and looking +amiably into his face, evidently wishing to soften the rudeness of his +words, he added, "Don't be hurt, my dear fellow; you know I speak from +my heart as to an old acquaintance." + +"Oh, don't mention it, Count! I quite understand," said Berg, +getting up and speaking in a muffled and guttural voice. + +"Go across to our hosts: they invited you," added Boris. + +Berg put on the cleanest of coats, without a spot or speck of +dust, stood before a looking glass and brushed the hair on his temples +upwards, in the way affected by the Emperor Alexander, and, having +assured himself from the way Rostov looked at it that his coat had +been noticed, left the room with a pleasant smile. + +"Oh dear, what a beast I am!" muttered Rostov, as he read the +letter. + +"Why?" + +"Oh, what a pig I am, not to have written and to have given them +such a fright! Oh, what a pig I am!" he repeated, flushing suddenly. +"Well, have you sent Gabriel for some wine? All right let's have +some!" + +In the letter from his parents was enclosed a letter of +recommendation to Bagration which the old countess at Anna +Mikhaylovna's advice had obtained through an acquaintance and sent +to her son, asking him to take it to its destination and make use of +it. + +"What nonsense! Much I need it!" said Rostov, throwing the letter +under the table. + +"Why have you thrown that away?" asked Boris. + +"It is some letter of recommendation... what the devil do I want +it for!" + +"Why 'What the devil'?" said Boris, picking it up and reading the +address. "This letter would be of great use to you." + +"I want nothing, and I won't be anyone's adjutant." + +"Why not?" inquired Boris. + +"It's a lackey's job!" + +"You are still the same dreamer, I see," remarked Boris, shaking his +head. + +"And you're still the same diplomatist! But that's not the +point... Come, how are you?" asked Rostov. + +"Well, as you see. So far everything's all right, but I confess I +should much like to be an adjutant and not remain at the front." + +"Why?" + +"Because when once a man starts on military service, he should try +to make as successful a career of it as possible." + +"Oh, that's it!" said Rostov, evidently thinking of something else. + +He looked intently and inquiringly into his friend's eyes, evidently +trying in vain to find the answer to some question. + +Old Gabriel brought in the wine. + +"Shouldn't we now send for Berg?" asked Boris. "He would drink +with you. I can't." + +"Well, send for him... and how do you get on with that German?" +asked Rostov, with a contemptuous smile. + +"He is a very, very nice, honest, and pleasant fellow," answered +Boris. + +Again Rostov looked intently into Boris' eyes and sighed. Berg +returned, and over the bottle of wine conversation between the three +officers became animated. The Guardsmen told Rostov of their march and +how they had been made much of in Russia, Poland, and abroad. They +spoke of the sayings and doings of their commander, the Grand Duke, +and told stories of his kindness and irascibility. Berg, as usual, +kept silent when the subject did not relate to himself, but in +connection with the stories of the Grand Duke's quick temper he +related with gusto how in Galicia he had managed to deal with the +Grand Duke when the latter made a tour of the regiments and was +annoyed at the irregularity of a movement. With a pleasant smile +Berg related how the Grand Duke had ridden up to him in a violent +passion, shouting: "Arnauts!" ("Arnauts" was the Tsarevich's +favorite expression when he was in a rage) and called for the +company commander. + +"Would you believe it, Count, I was not at all alarmed, because I +knew I was right. Without boasting, you know, I may say that I know +the Army Orders by heart and know the Regulations as well as I do +the Lord's Prayer. So, Count, there never is any negligence in my +company, and so my conscience was at ease. I came forward...." (Berg +stood up and showed how he presented himself, with his hand to his +cap, and really it would have been difficult for a face to express +greater respect and self-complacency than his did.) "Well, he +stormed at me, as the saying is, stormed and stormed and stormed! It +was not a matter of life but rather of death, as the saying is. +'Albanians!' and 'devils!' and 'To Siberia!'" said Berg with a +sagacious smile. "I knew I was in the right so I kept silent; was +not that best, Count?... 'Hey, are you dumb?' he shouted. Still I +remained silent. And what do you think, Count? The next day it was not +even mentioned in the Orders of the Day. That's what keeping one's +head means. That's the way, Count," said Berg, lighting his pipe and +emitting rings of smoke. + +"Yes, that was fine," said Rostov, smiling. + +But Boris noticed that he was preparing to make fun of Berg, and +skillfully changed the subject. He asked him to tell them how and +where he got his wound. This pleased Rostov and he began talking about +it, and as he went on became more and more animated. He told them of +his Schon Grabern affair, just as those who have taken part in a +battle generally do describe it, that is, as they would like it to +have been, as they have heard it described by others, and as sounds +well, but not at all as it really was. Rostov was a truthful young man +and would on no account have told a deliberate lie. He began his story +meaning to tell everything just as it happened, but imperceptibly, +involuntarily, and inevitably he lapsed into falsehood. If he had told +the truth to his hearers- who like himself had often heard stories +of attacks and had formed a definite idea of what an attack was and +were expecting to hear just such a story- they would either not have +believed him or, still worse, would have thought that Rostov was +himself to blame since what generally happens to the narrators of +cavalry attacks had not happened to him. He could not tell them simply +that everyone went at a trot and that he fell off his horse and +sprained his arm and then ran as hard as he could from a Frenchman +into the wood. Besides, to tell everything as it really happened, it +would have been necessary to make an effort of will to tell only +what happened. It is very difficult to tell the truth, and young +people are rarely capable of it. His hearers expected a story of how +beside himself and all aflame with excitement, he had flown like a +storm at the square, cut his way in, slashed right and left, how his +saber had tasted flesh and he had fallen exhausted, and so on. And +so he told them all that. + +In the middle of his story, just as he was saying: "You cannot +imagine what a strange frenzy one experiences during an attack," +Prince Andrew, whom Boris was expecting, entered the room. Prince +Andrew, who liked to help young men, was flattered by being asked +for his assistance and being well disposed toward Boris, who had +managed to please him the day before, he wished to do what the young +man wanted. Having been sent with papers from Kutuzov to the +Tsarevich, he looked in on Boris, hoping to find him alone. When he +came in and saw an hussar of the line recounting his military exploits +(Prince Andrew could not endure that sort of man), he gave Boris a +pleasant smile, frowned as with half-closed eyes he looked at +Rostov, bowed slightly and wearily, and sat down languidly on the +sofa: he felt it unpleasant to have dropped in on bad company. +Rostov flushed up on noticing this, but he did not care, this was a +mere stranger. Glancing, however, at Boris, he saw that he too +seemed ashamed of the hussar of the line. + +In spite of Prince Andrew's disagreeable, ironical tone, in spite of +the contempt with which Rostov, from his fighting army point of +view, regarded all these little adjutants on the staff of whom the +newcomer was evidently one, Rostov felt confused, blushed, and +became silent. Boris inquired what news there might be on the staff, +and what, without indiscretion, one might ask about our plans. + +"We shall probably advance," replied Bolkonski, evidently +reluctant to say more in the presence of a stranger. + +Berg took the opportunity to ask, with great politeness, whether, as +was rumored, the allowance of forage money to captains of companies +would be doubled. To this Prince Andrew answered with a smile that +he could give no opinion on such an important government order, and +Berg laughed gaily. + +"As to your business," Prince Andrew continued, addressing Boris, +"we will talk of it later" (and he looked round at Rostov). "Come to +me after the review and we will do what is possible." + +And, having glanced round the room, Prince Andrew turned to +Rostov, whose state of unconquerable childish embarrassment now +changing to anger he did not condescend to notice, and said: "I +think you were talking of the Schon Grabern affair? Were you there?" + +"I was there," said Rostov angrily, as if intending to insult the +aide-de-camp. + +Bolkonski noticed the hussar's state of mind, and it amused him. +With a slightly contemptuous smile, he said: "Yes, there are many +stories now told about that affair!" + +"Yes, stories!" repeated Rostov loudly, looking with eyes suddenly +grown furious, now at Boris, now at Bolkonski. "Yes, many stories! But +our stories are the stories of men who have been under the enemy's +fire! Our stories have some weight, not like the stories of those +fellows on the staff who get rewards without doing anything!" + +"Of whom you imagine me to be one?" said Prince Andrew, with a quiet +and particularly amiable smile. + +A strange feeling of exasperation and yet of respect for this +man's self-possession mingled at that moment in Rostov's soul. + +"I am not talking about you," he said, "I don't know you and, +frankly, I don't want to. I am speaking of the staff in general." + +"And I will tell you this," Prince Andrew interrupted in a tone of +quiet authority, "you wish to insult me, and I am ready to agree +with you that it would be very easy to do so if you haven't sufficient +self-respect, but admit that the time and place are very badly chosen. +In a day or two we shall all have to take part in a greater and more +serious duel, and besides, Drubetskoy, who says he is an old friend of +yours, is not at all to blame that my face has the misfortune to +displease you. However," he added rising, "you know my name and +where to find me, but don't forget that I do not regard either +myself or you as having been at all insulted, and as a man older +than you, my advice is to let the matter drop. Well then, on Friday +after the review I shall expect you, Drubetskoy. Au revoir!" exclaimed +Prince Andrew, and with a bow to them both he went out. + +Only when Prince Andrew was gone did Rostov think of what he ought +to have said. And he was still more angry at having omitted to say it. +He ordered his horse at once and, coldly taking leave of Boris, rode +home. Should he go to headquarters next day and challenge that +affected adjutant, or really let the matter drop, was the question +that worried him all the way. He thought angrily of the pleasure he +would have at seeing the fright of that small and frail but proud +man when covered by his pistol, and then he felt with surprise that of +all the men he knew there was none he would so much like to have for a +friend as that very adjutant whom he so hated. + +CHAPTER VIII + +The day after Rostov had been to see Boris, a review was held of the +Austrian and Russian troops, both those freshly arrived from Russia +and those who had been campaigning under Kutuzov. The two Emperors, +the Russian with his heir the Tsarevich, and the Austrian with the +Archduke, inspected the allied army of eighty thousand men. + +From early morning the smart clean troops were on the move, +forming up on the field before the fortress. Now thousands of feet and +bayonets moved and halted at the officers' command, turned with +banners flying, formed up at intervals, and wheeled round other +similar masses of infantry in different uniforms; now was heard the +rhythmic beat of hoofs and the jingling of showy cavalry in blue, red, +and green braided uniforms, with smartly dressed bandsmen in front +mounted on black, roan, or gray horses; then again, spreading out with +the brazen clatter of the polished shining cannon that quivered on the +gun carriages and with the smell of linstocks, came the artillery +which crawled between the infantry and cavalry and took up its +appointed position. Not only the generals in full parade uniforms, +with their thin or thick waists drawn in to the utmost, their red +necks squeezed into their stiff collars, and wearing scarves and all +their decorations, not only the elegant, pomaded officers, but every +soldier with his freshly washed and shaven face and his weapons +clean and polished to the utmost, and every horse groomed till its +coat shone like satin and every hair of its wetted mane lay smooth- +felt that no small matter was happening, but an important and solemn +affair. Every general and every soldier was conscious of his own +insignificance, aware of being but a drop in that ocean of men, and +yet at the same time was conscious of his strength as a part of that +enormous whole. + +From early morning strenuous activities and efforts had begun and by +ten o'clock all had been brought into due order. The ranks were +drown up on the vast field. The whole army was extended in three +lines: the cavalry in front, behind it the artillery, and behind +that again the infantry. + +A space like a street was left between each two lines of troops. The +three parts of that army were sharply distinguished: Kutuzov's +fighting army (with the Pavlograds on the right flank of the front); +those recently arrived from Russia, both Guards and regiments of the +line; and the Austrian troops. But they all stood in the same lines, +under one command, and in a like order. + +Like wind over leaves ran an excited whisper: "They're coming! +They're coming!" Alarmed voices were heard, and a stir of final +preparation swept over all the troops. + +From the direction of Olmutz in front of them, a group was seen +approaching. And at that moment, though the day was still, a light +gust of wind blowing over the army slightly stirred the streamers on +the lances and the unfolded standards fluttered against their +staffs. It looked as if by that slight motion the army itself was +expressing its joy at the approach of the Emperors. One voice was +heard shouting: "Eyes front!" Then, like the crowing of cocks at + +sunrise, this was repeated by others from various sides and all became +silent. + +In the deathlike stillness only the tramp of horses was heard. +This was the Emperors' suites. The Emperors rode up to the flank, +and the trumpets of the first cavalry regiment played the general +march. It seemed as though not the trumpeters were playing, but as +if the army itself, rejoicing at the Emperors' approach, had naturally +burst into music. Amid these sounds, only the youthful kindly voice of +the Emperor Alexander was clearly heard. He gave the words of +greeting, and the first regiment roared "Hurrah!" so deafeningly, +continuously, and joyfully that the men themselves were awed by +their multitude and the immensity of the power they constituted. + +Rostov, standing in the front lines of Kutuzov's army which the Tsar +approached first, experienced the same feeling as every other man in +that army: a feeling of self-forgetfulness, a proud consciousness of +might, and a passionate attraction to him who was the cause of this +triumph. + +He felt that at a single word from that man all this vast mass +(and he himself an insignificant atom in it) would go through fire and +water, commit crime, die, or perform deeds of highest heroism, and +so he could not but tremble and his heart stand still at the imminence +of that word. + +"Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!" thundered from all sides, one regiment +after another greeting the Tsar with the strains of the march, and +then "Hurrah!"... Then the general march, and again "Hurrah! +Hurrah!" growing ever stronger and fuller and merging into a deafening +roar. + +Till the Tsar reached it, each regiment in its silence and +immobility seemed like a lifeless body, but as soon as he came up it +became alive, its thunder joining the roar of the whole line along +which he had already passed. Through the terrible and deafening roar +of those voices, amid the square masses of troops standing +motionless as if turned to stone, hundreds of riders composing the +suites moved carelessly but symmetrically and above all freely, and in +front of them two men- the Emperors. Upon them the undivided, +tensely passionate attention of that whole mass of men was +concentrated. + +The handsome young Emperor Alexander, in the uniform of the Horse +Guards, wearing a cocked hat with its peaks front and back, with his +pleasant face and resonant though not loud voice, attracted everyone's +attention. + +Rostov was not far from the trumpeters, and with his keen sight +had recognized the Tsar and watched his approach. When he was within +twenty paces, and Nicholas could clearly distinguish every detail of +his handsome, happy young face, he experienced a feeling tenderness +and ecstasy such as he had never before known. Every trait and every +movement of the Tsar's seemed to him enchanting. + +Stopping in front of the Pavlograds, the Tsar said something in +French to the Austrian Emperor and smiled. + +Seeing that smile, Rostov involuntarily smiled himself and felt a +still stronger flow of love for his sovereign. He longed to show +that love in some way and knowing that this was impossible was ready +to cry. The Tsar called the colonel of the regiment and said a few +words to him. + +"Oh God, what would happen to me if the Emperor spoke to me?" +thought Rostov. "I should die of happiness!" + +The Tsar addressed the officers also: "I thank you all, gentlemen, I +thank you with my whole heart." To Rostov every word sounded like a +voice from heaven. How gladly would he have died at once for his Tsar! + +"You have earned the St. George's standards and will be worthy of +them." + +"Oh, to die, to die for him " thought Rostov. + +The Tsar said something more which Rostov did not hear, and the +soldiers, straining their lungs, shouted "Hurrah!" + +Rostov too, bending over his saddle, shouted "Hurrah!" with all +his might, feeling that he would like to injure himself by that shout, +if only to express his rapture fully. + +The Tsar stopped a few minutes in front of the hussars as if +undecided. + +"How can the Emperor be undecided?" thought Rostov, but then even +this indecision appeared to him majestic and enchanting, like +everything else the Tsar did. + +That hesitation lasted only an instant. The Tsar's foot, in the +narrow pointed boot then fashionable, touched the groin of the +bobtailed bay mare he rode, his hand in a white glove gathered up +the reins, and he moved off accompanied by an irregularly swaying +sea of aides-de-camp. Farther and farther he rode away, stopping at +other regiments, till at last only his white plumes were visible to +Rostov from amid the suites that surrounded the Emperors. + +Among the gentlemen of the suite, Rostov noticed Bolkonski, +sitting his horse indolently and carelessly. Rostov recalled their +quarrel of yesterday and the question presented itself whether he +ought or ought not to challenge Bolkonski. "Of course not!" he now +thought. "Is it worth thinking or speaking of it at such a moment? +At a time of such love, such rapture, and such self-sacrifice, what do +any of our quarrels and affronts matter? I love and forgive +everybody now." + +When the Emperor had passed nearly all the regiments, the troops +began a ceremonial march past him, and Rostov on Bedouin, recently +purchased from Denisov, rode past too, at the rear of his squadron- +that is, alone and in full view of the Emperor. + +Before he reached him, Rostov, who was a splendid horseman, +spurred Bedouin twice and successfully put him to the showy trot in +which the animal went when excited. Bending his foaming muzzle to +his chest, his tail extended, Bedouin, as if also conscious of the +Emperor's eye upon him, passed splendidly, lifting his feet with a +high and graceful action, as if flying through the air without +touching the ground. + +Rostov himself, his legs well back and his stomach drawn in and +feeling himself one with his horse, rode past the Emperor with a +frowning but blissful face "like a vewy devil," as Denisov expressed +it. + +"Fine fellows, the Pavlograds!" remarked the Emperor. + +"My God, how happy I should be if he ordered me to leap into the +fire this instant!" thought Rostov. + +When the review was over, the newly arrived officers, and also +Kutuzov's, collected in groups and began to talk about the awards, +about the Austrians and their uniforms, about their lines, about +Bonaparte, and how badly the latter would fare now, especially if +the Essen corps arrived and Prussia took our side. + +But the talk in every group was chiefly about the Emperor Alexander. +His every word and movement was described with ecstasy. + +They all had but one wish: to advance as soon as possible against +the enemy under the Emperor's command. Commanded by the Emperor +himself they could not fail to vanquish anyone, be it whom it might: +so thought Rostov and most of the officers after the review. + +All were then more confident of victory than the winning of two +battles would have made them. + +CHAPTER IX + +The day after the review, Boris, in his best uniform and with his +comrade Berg's best wishes for success, rode to Olmutz to see +Bolkonski, wishing to profit by his friendliness and obtain for +himself the best post he could- preferably that of adjutant to some +important personage, a position in the army which seemed to him most +attractive. "It is all very well for Rostov, whose father sends him +ten thousand rubles at a time, to talk about not wishing to cringe +to anybody and not be anyone's lackey, but I who have nothing but my +brains have to make a career and must not miss opportunities, but must +avail myself of them!" he reflected. + +He did not find Prince Andrew in Olmutz that day, but the appearance +of the town where the headquarters and the diplomatic corps were +stationed and the two Emperors were living with their suites, +households, and courts only strengthened his desire to belong to +that higher world. + +He knew no one, and despite his smart Guardsman's uniform, all these +exalted personages passing in the streets in their elegant carriages +with their plumes, ribbons, and medals, both courtiers and military +men, seemed so immeasurably above him, an insignificant officer of the +Guards, that they not only did not wish to, but simply could not, be +aware of his existence. At the quarters of the commander in chief, +Kutuzov, where he inquired for Bolkonski, all the adjutants and even +the orderlies looked at him as if they wished to impress on him that a +great many officers like him were always coming there and that +everybody was heartily sick of them. In spite of this, or rather +because of it, next day, November 15, after dinner he again went to +Olmutz and, entering the house occupied by Kutuzov, asked for +Bolkonski. Prince Andrew was in and Boris was shown into a large +hall probably formerly used for dancing, but in which five beds now +stood, and furniture of various kinds: a table, chairs, and a +clavichord. One adjutant, nearest the door, was sitting at the table +in a Persian dressing gown, writing. Another, the red, stout +Nesvitski, lay on a bed with his arms under his head, laughing with an +officer who had sat down beside him. A third was playing a Viennese +waltz on the clavichord, while a fourth, lying on the clavichord, sang +the tune. Bolkonski was not there. None of these gentlemen changed his +position on seeing Boris. The one who was writing and whom Boris +addressed turned round crossly and told him Bolkonski was on duty +and that he should go through the door on the left into the +reception room if he wished to see him. Boris thanked him and went +to the reception room, where he found some ten officers and generals. + +When he entered, Prince Andrew, his eyes drooping contemptuously +(with that peculiar expression of polite weariness which plainly says, +"If it were not my duty I would not talk to you for a moment"), was +listening to an old Russian general with decorations, who stood very +erect, almost on tiptoe, with a soldier's obsequious expression on his +purple face, reporting something. + +"Very well, then, be so good as to wait," said Prince Andrew to + +the general, in Russian, speaking with the French intonation he +affected when he wished to speak contemptuously, and noticing Boris, +Prince Andrew, paying no more heed to the general who ran after him +imploring him to hear something more, nodded and turned to him with +a cheerful smile. + +At that moment Boris clearly realized what he had before surmised, +that in the army, besides the subordination and discipline +prescribed in the military code, which he and the others knew in the +regiment, there was another, more important, subordination, which made +this tight-laced, purple-faced general wait respectfully while Captain +Prince Andrew, for his own pleasure, chose to chat with Lieutenant +Drubetskoy. More than ever was Boris resolved to serve in future not +according to the written code, but under this unwritten law. He felt +now that merely by having been recommended to Prince Andrew he had +already risen above the general who at the front had the power to +annihilate him, a lieutenant of the Guards. Prince Andrew came up to +him and took his hand. + +"I am very sorry you did not find me in yesterday. I was fussing +about with Germans all day. We went with Weyrother to survey the +dispositions. When Germans start being accurate, there's no end to +it!" + +Boris smiled, as if he understood what Prince Andrew was alluding to +as something generally known. But it the first time he had heard +Weyrother's name, or even the term "dispositions." + +"Well, my dear fellow, so you still want to be an adjutant? I have +been thinking about you." + +"Yes, I was thinking"- for some reason Boris could not help +blushing- "of asking the commander in chief. He has had a letter +from Prince Kuragin about me. I only wanted to ask because I fear +the Guards won't be in action," he added as if in apology. + +"All right, all right. We'll talk it over," replied Prince Andrew. +"Only let me report this gentleman's business, and I shall be at +your disposal." + +While Prince Andrew went to report about the purple-faced general, +that gentleman- evidently not sharing Boris' conception of the +advantages of the unwritten code of subordination- looked so fixedly +at the presumptuous lieutenant who had prevented his finishing what he +had to say to the adjutant that Boris felt uncomfortable. He turned +away and waited impatiently for Prince Andrew's return from the +commander in chief's room. + +"You see, my dear fellow, I have been thinking about you," said +Prince Andrew when they had gone into the large room where the +clavichord was. "It's no use your going to the commander in chief. +He would say a lot of pleasant things, ask you to dinner" ("That would +not be bad as regards the unwritten code," thought Boris), "but +nothing more would come of it. There will soon be a battalion of us +aides-de-camp and adjutants! But this is what we'll do: I have a +good friend, an adjutant general and an excellent fellow, Prince +Dolgorukov; and though you may not know it, the fact is that now +Kutuzov with his staff and all of us count for nothing. Everything +is now centered round the Emperor. So we will go to Dolgorukov; I have +to go there anyhow and I have already spoken to him about you. We +shall see whether he cannot attach you to himself or find a place +for you somewhere nearer the sun." + +Prince Andrew always became specially keen when he had to guide a +young man and help him to worldly success. Under cover of obtaining +help of this kind for another, which from pride he would never +accept for himself, he kept in touch with the circle which confers +success and which attracted him. He very readily took up Boris' +cause and went with him to Dolgorukov. + +It was late in the evening when they entered the palace at Olmutz +occupied by the Emperors and their retinues. + +That same day a council of war had been held in which all the +members of the Hofkriegsrath and both Emperors took part. At that +council, contrary to the views of the old generals Kutuzov and +Prince Schwartzenberg, it had been decided to advance immediately +and give battle to Bonaparte. The council of war was just over when +Prince Andrew accompanied by Boris arrived at the palace to find +Dolgorukov. Everyone at headquarters was still under the spell of +the day's council, at which the party of the young had triumphed. +The voices of those who counseled delay and advised waiting for +something else before advancing had been so completely silenced and +their arguments confuted by such conclusive evidence of the advantages +of attacking that what had been discussed at the council- the coming +battle and the victory that would certainly result from it- no +longer seemed to be in the future but in the past. All the +advantages were on our side. Our enormous forces, undoubtedly superior +to Napoleon's, were concentrated in one place, the troops inspired +by the Emperors' presence were eager for action. The strategic +position where the operations would take place was familiar in all its +details to the Austrian General Weyrother: a lucky accident had +ordained that the Austrian army should maneuver the previous year on +the very fields where the French had now to be fought; the adjacent +locality was known and shown in every detail on the maps, and +Bonaparte, evidently weakened, was undertaking nothing. + +Dolgorukov, one of the warmest advocates of an attack, had just +returned from the council, tired and exhausted but eager and proud +of the victory that had been gained. Prince Andrew introduced his +protege, but Prince Dolgorukov politely and firmly pressing his hand +said nothing to Boris and, evidently unable to suppress the thoughts +which were uppermost in his mind at that moment, addressed Prince +Andrew in French. + +"Ah, my dear fellow, what a battle we have gained! God grant that +the one that will result from it will be as victorious! However, +dear fellow," he said abruptly and eagerly, "I must confess to +having been unjust to the Austrians and especially to Weyrother. +What exactitude, what minuteness, what knowledge of the locality, what +foresight for every eventuality, every possibility even to the +smallest detail! No, my dear fellow, no conditions better than our +present ones could have been devised. This combination of Austrian +precision with Russian valor- what more could be wished for?" + +"So the attack is definitely resolved on?" asked Bolkonski. + +"And do you know, my dear fellow, it seems to me that Bonaparte +has decidedly lost bearings, you know that a letter was received +from him today for the Emperor." Dolgorukov smiled significantly. + +"Is that so? And what did he say?" inquired Bolkonski. + +"What can he say? Tra-di-ri-di-ra and so on... merely to gain +time. I tell you he is in our hands, that's certain! But what was most +amusing," he continued, with a sudden, good-natured laugh, "was that +we could not think how to address the reply! If not as 'Consul' and of +course not as 'Emperor,' it seemed to me it should be to 'General +Bonaparte.'" + +"But between not recognizing him as Emperor and calling him +General Bonaparte, there is a difference," remarked Bolkonski. + +"That's just it," interrupted Dolgorukov quickly, laughing. "You +know Bilibin- he's a very clever fellow. He suggested addressing him +as 'Usurper and Enemy of Mankind.'" + +Dolgorukov laughed merrily. + +"Only that?" said Bolkonski. + +"All the same, it was Bilibin who found a suitable form for the +address. He is a wise and clever fellow." + +"What was it?" + +"To the Head of the French Government... Au chef du gouvernement +francais," said Dolgorukov, with grave satisfaction. "Good, wasn't +it?" + +"Yes, but he will dislike it extremely," said Bolkonski. + +"Oh yes, very much! My brother knows him, he's dined with him- the +present Emperor- more than once in Paris, and tells me he never met +a more cunning or subtle diplomatist- you know, a combination of +French adroitness and Italian play-acting! Do you know the tale +about him and Count Markov? Count Markov was the only man who knew how +to handle him. You know the story of the handkerchief? It is +delightful!" + +And the talkative Dolgorukov, turning now to Boris, now to Prince +Andrew, told how Bonaparte wishing to test Markov, our ambassador, +purposely dropped a handkerchief in front of him and stood looking +at Markov, probably expecting Markov to pick it up for him, and how +Markov immediately dropped his own beside it and picked it up +without touching Bonaparte's. + +"Delightful!" said Bolkonski. "But I have come to you, Prince, as +a petitioner on behalf of this young man. You see..." but before +Prince Andrew could finish, an aide-de-camp came in to summon +Dolgorukov to the Emperor. + +"Oh, what a nuisance," said Dolgorukov, getting up hurriedly and +pressing the hands of Prince Andrew and Boris. "You know I should be +very glad to do all in my power both for you and for this dear young +man." Again he pressed the hand of the latter with an expression of +good-natured, sincere, and animated levity. "But you see... another +time!" + +Boris was excited by the thought of being so close to the higher +powers as he felt himself to be at that moment. He was conscious +that here he was in contact with the springs that set in motion the +enormous movements of the mass of which in his regiment he felt +himself a tiny, obedient, and insignificant atom. They followed Prince +Dolgorukov out into the corridor and met- coming out of the door of +the Emperor's room by which Dolgorukov had entered- a short man in +civilian clothes with a clever face and sharply projecting jaw +which, without spoiling his face, gave him a peculiar vivacity and +shiftiness of expression. This short man nodded to Dolgorukov as to an +intimate friend and stared at Prince Andrew with cool intensity, +walking straight toward him and evidently expecting him to bow or to +step out of his way. Prince Andrew did neither: a look of animosity +appeared on his face and the other turned away and went down the +side of the corridor. + +"Who was that?" asked Boris. + +"He is one of the most remarkable, but to me most unpleasant of men- +the Minister of Foreign Affairs, Prince Adam Czartoryski.... It is +such men as he who decide the fate of nations," added Bolkonski with a +sigh he could not suppress, as they passed out of the palace. + +Next day, the army began its campaign, and up to the very battle +of Austerlitz, Boris was unable to see either Prince Andrew or +Dolgorukov again and remained for a while with the Ismaylov regiment. + +CHAPTER X + +At dawn on the sixteenth of November, Denisov's squadron, in which +Nicholas Rostov served and which was in Prince Bagration's detachment, +moved from the place where it had spent the night, advancing into +action as arranged, and after going behind other columns for about two +thirds of a mile was stopped on the highroad. Rostov saw the +Cossacks and then the first and second squadrons of hussars and +infantry battalions and artillery pass by and go forward and then +Generals Bagration and Dolgorukov ride past with their adjutants. +All the fear before action which he had experienced as previously, all +the inner struggle to conquer that fear, all his dreams of +distinguishing himself as a true hussar in this battle, had been +wasted. Their squadron remained in reserve and Nicholas Rostov spent +that day in a dull and wretched mood. At nine in the morning, he heard +firing in front and shouts of hurrah, and saw wounded being brought +back (there were not many of them), and at last he saw how a whole +detachment of French cavalry was brought in, convoyed by a sontnya +of Cossacks. Evidently the affair was over and, though not big, had +been a successful engagement. The men and officers returning spoke +of a brilliant victory, of the occupation of the town of Wischau and +the capture of a whole French squadron. The day was bright and sunny +after a sharp night frost, and the cheerful glitter of that autumn day +was in keeping with the news of victory which was conveyed, not only +by the tales of those who had taken part in it, but also by the joyful +expression on the faces of soldiers, officers, generals, and +adjutants, as they passed Rostov going or coming. And Nicholas, who +had vainly suffered all the dread that precedes a battle and had spent +that happy day in inactivity, was all the more depressed. + +"Come here, Wostov. Let's dwink to dwown our gwief!" shouted +Denisov, who had settled down by the roadside with a flask and some +food. + +The officers gathered round Denisov's canteen, eating and talking. + +"There! They are bringing another!" cried one of the officers, +indicating a captive French dragoon who was being brought in on foot +by two Cossacks. + +One of them was leading by the bridle a fine large French horse he +had taken from the prisoner. + +"Sell us that horse!" Denisov called out to the Cossacks. + +"If you like, your honor!" + +The officers got up and stood round the Cossacks and their prisoner. +The French dragoon was a young Alsatian who spoke French with a German +accent. He was breathless with agitation, his face was red, and when +he heard some French spoken he at once began speaking to the officers, +addressing first one, then another. He said he would not have been +taken, it was not his fault but the corporal's who had sent him to +seize some horsecloths, though he had told him the Russians were +there. And at every word he added: "But don't hurt my little horse!" +and stroked the animal. It was plain that he did not quite grasp where +he was. Now he excused himself for having been taken prisoner and now, +imagining himself before his own officers, insisted on his soldierly +discipline and zeal in the service. He brought with him into our +rearguard all the freshness of atmosphere of the French army, which +was so alien to us. + +The Cossacks sold the horse for two gold pieces, and Rostov, being +the richest of the officers now that he had received his money, bought +it. + +"But don't hurt my little horse!" said the Alsatian good-naturedly +to Rostov when the animal was handed over to the hussar. + +Rostov smilingly reassured the dragoon and gave him money. + +"Alley! Alley!" said the Cossack, touching the prisoner's arm to +make him go on. + +"The Emperor! The Emperor!" was suddenly heard among the hussars. + +All began to run and bustle, and Rostov saw coming up the road +behind him several riders with white plumes in their hats. In a moment +everyone was in his place, waiting. + +Rostov did not know or remember how he ran to his place and mounted. +Instantly his regret at not having been in action and his dejected +mood amid people of whom he was weary had gone, instantly every +thought of himself had vanished. He was filled with happiness at his +nearness to the Emperor. He felt that this nearness by itself made +up to him for the day he had lost. He was happy as a lover when the +longed-for moment of meeting arrives. Not daring to look round and +without looking round, he was ecstatically conscious of his +approach. He felt it not only from the sound of the hoofs of the +approaching cavalcade, but because as he drew near everything grew +brighter, more joyful, more significant, and more festive around +him. Nearer and nearer to Rostov came that sun shedding beams of +mild and majestic light around, and already he felt himself +enveloped in those beams, he heard his voice, that kindly, calm, and +majestic voice that was yet so simple! And as if in accord with +Rostov's feeling, there was a deathly stillness amid which was heard +the Emperor's voice. + +"The Pavlograd hussars?" he inquired. + +"The reserves, sire!" replied a voice, a very human one compared +to that which had said: "The Pavlograd hussars?" + +The Emperor drew level with Rostov and halted. Alexander's face +was even more beautiful than it had been three days before at the +review. It shone with such gaiety and youth, such innocent youth, that +it suggested the liveliness of a fourteen-year-old boy, and yet it was +the face of the majestic Emperor. Casually, while surveying the +squadron, the Emperor's eyes met Rostov's and rested on them for not +more than two seconds. Whether or no the Emperor understood what was +going on in Rostov's soul (it seemed to Rostov that he understood +everything), at any rate his light-blue eyes gazed for about two +seconds into Rostov's face. A gentle, mild light poured from them. +Then all at once he raised his eyebrows, abruptly touched his horse +with his left foot, and galloped on. + +The younger Emperor could not restrain his wish to be present at the +battle and, in spite of the remonstrances of his courtiers, at +twelve o'clock left the third column with which he had been and +galloped toward the vanguard. Before he came up with the hussars, +several adjutants met him with news of the successful result of the +action. + +This battle, which consisted in the capture of a French squadron, +was represented as a brilliant victory over the French, and so the +Emperor and the whole army, especially while the smoke hung over the +battlefield, believed that the French had been defeated and were +retreating against their will. A few minutes after the Emperor had +passed, the Pavlograd division was ordered to advance. In Wischau +itself, a petty German town, Rostov saw the Emperor again. In the +market place, where there had been some rather heavy firing before the +Emperor's arrival, lay several killed and wounded soldiers whom +there had not been time to move. The Emperor, surrounded by his +suite of officers and courtiers, was riding a bobtailed chestnut mare, +a different one from that which he had ridden at the review, and +bending to one side he gracefully held a gold lorgnette to his eyes +and looked at a soldier who lay prone, with blood on his uncovered +head. The wounded soldier was so dirty, coarse, and revolting that his +proximity to the Emperor shocked Rostov. Rostov saw how the +Emperor's rather round shoulders shuddered as if a cold shiver had run +down them, how his left foot began convulsively tapping the horse's +side with the spur, and how the well-trained horse looked round +unconcerned and did not stir. An adjutant, dismounting, lifted the +soldier under the arms to place him on a stretcher that had been +brought. The soldier groaned. + +"Gently, gently! Can't you do it more gently?" said the Emperor +apparently suffering more than the dying soldier, and he rode away. + +Rostov saw tears filling the Emperor's eyes and heard him, as he was +riding away, say to Czartoryski: "What a terrible thing war is: what a +terrible thing! Quelle terrible chose que la guerre!" + +The troops of the vanguard were stationed before Wischau, within +sight of the enemy's lines, which all day long had yielded ground to +us at the least firing. The Emperor's gratitude was announced to the +vanguard, rewards were promised, and the men received a double +ration of vodka. The campfires crackled and the soldiers' songs +resounded even more merrily than on the previous night. Denisov +celebrated his promotion to the rank of major, and Rostov, who had +already drunk enough, at the end of the feast proposed the Emperor's +health. "Not 'our Sovereign, the Emperor,' as they say at official +dinners," said he, "but the health of our Sovereign, that good, +enchanting, and great man! Let us drink to his health and to the +certain defeat of the French!" + +"If we fought before," he said, "not letting the French pass, as +at Schon Grabern, what shall we not do now when he is at the front? We +will all die for him gladly! Is it not so, gentlemen? Perhaps I am not +saying it right, I have drunk a good deal- but that is how I feel, and +so do you too! To the health of Alexander the First! Hurrah!" + +"Hurrah!" rang the enthusiastic voices of the officers. + +And the old cavalry captain, Kirsten, shouted enthusiastically and +no less sincerely than the twenty-year-old Rostov. + +When the officers had emptied and smashed their glasses, Kirsten +filled others and, in shirt sleeves and breeches, went glass in hand +to the soldiers' bonfires and with his long gray mustache, his white +chest showing under his open shirt, he stood in a majestic pose in the +light of the campfire, waving his uplifted arm. + +"Lads! here's to our Sovereign, the Emperor, and victory over our +enemies! Hurrah!" he exclaimed in his dashing, old, hussar's baritone. + +The hussars crowded round and responded heartily with loud shouts. + +Late that night, when all had separated, Denisov with his short hand +patted his favorite, Rostov, on the shoulder. + +"As there's no one to fall in love with on campaign, he's fallen +in love with the Tsar," he said. + +"Denisov, don't make fun of it!" cried Rostov. "It is such a +lofty, beautiful feeling, such a..." + +"I believe it, I believe it, fwiend, and I share and appwove..." + +"No, you don't understand!" + +And Rostov got up and went wandering among the campfires, dreaming +of what happiness it would be to die- not in saving the Emperor's life +(he did not even dare to dream of that), but simply to die before +his eyes. He really was in love with the Tsar and the glory of the +Russian arms and the hope of future triumph. And he was not the only +man to experience that feeling during those memorable days preceding +the battle of Austerlitz: nine tenths of the men in the Russian army +were then in love, though less ecstatically, with their Tsar and the +glory of the Russian arms. + +CHAPTER XI + +The next day the Emperor stopped at Wischau, and Villier, his +physician, was repeatedly summoned to see him. At headquarters and +among the troops near by the news spread that the Emperor was +unwell. He ate nothing and had slept badly that night, those around +him reported. The cause of this indisposition was the strong +impression made on his sensitive mind by the sight of the killed and +wounded. + +At daybreak on the seventeenth, a French officer who had come with a +flag of truce, demanding an audience with the Russian Emperor, was +brought into Wischau from our outposts. This officer was Savary. The +Emperor had only just fallen asleep and so Savary had to wait. At +midday he was admitted to the Emperor, and an hour later he rode off +with Prince Dolgorukov to the advanced post of the French army. + +It was rumored that Savary had been sent to propose to Alexander a +meeting with Napoleon. To the joy and pride of the whole army, a +personal interview was refused, and instead of the Sovereign, Prince +Dolgorukov, the victor at Wischau, was sent with Savary to negotiate +with Napoleon if, contrary to expectations, these negotiations were +actuated by a real desire for peace. + +Toward evening Dolgorukov came back, went straight to the Tsar, +and remained alone with him for a long time. + +On the eighteenth and nineteenth of November, the army advanced +two days' march and the enemy's outposts after a brief interchange +of shots retreated. In the highest army circles from midday on the +nineteenth, a great, excitedly bustling activity began which lasted +till the morning of the twentieth, when the memorable battle of +Austerlitz was fought. + +Till midday on the nineteenth, the activity- the eager talk, running +to and fro, and dispatching of adjutants- was confined to the +Emperor's headquarters. But on the afternoon of that day, this +activity reached Kutiizov's headquarters and the staffs of the +commanders of columns. By evening, the adjutants had spread it to +all ends and parts of the army, and in the night from the nineteenth +to the twentieth, the whole eighty thousand allied troops rose from +their bivouacs to the hum of voices, and the army swayed and started +in one enormous mass six miles long. + +The concentrated activity which had begun at the Emperor's +headquarters in the morning and had started the whole movement that +followed was like the first movement of the main wheel of a large +tower clock. One wheel slowly moved, another was set in motion, and +a third, and wheels began to revolve faster and faster, levers and +cogwheels to work, chimes to play, figures to pop out, and the hands +to advance with regular motion as a result of all that activity. + +Just as in the mechanism of a clock, so in the mechanism of the +military machine, an impulse once given leads to the final result; and +just as indifferently quiescent till the moment when motion is +transmitted to them are the parts of the mechanism which the impulse +has not yet reached. Wheels creak on their axles as the cogs engage +one another and the revolving pulleys whirr with the rapidity of their +movement, but a neighboring wheel is as quiet and motionless as though +it were prepared to remain so for a hundred years; but the moment +comes when the lever catches it and obeying the impulse that wheel +begins to creak and joins in the common motion the result and aim of +which are beyond its ken. + +Just as in a clock, the result of the complicated motion of +innumerable wheels and pulleys is merely a slow and regular movement +of the hands which show the time, so the result of all the complicated +human activities of 160,000 Russians and French- all their passions, +desires, remorse, humiliations, sufferings, outbursts of pride, +fear, and enthusiasm- was only the loss of the battle of Austerlitz, +the so-called battle of the three Emperors- that is to say, a slow +movement of the hand on the dial of human history. + +Prince Andrew was on duty that day and in constant attendance on the +commander in chief. + +At six in the evening, Kutuzov went to the Emperor's headquarters +and after staying but a short time with the Tsar went to see the grand +marshal of the court, Count Tolstoy. + +Bolkonski took the opportunity to go in to get some details of the +coming action from Dolgorukov. He felt that Kutuzov was upset and +dissatisfied about something and that at headquarters they were +dissatisfied with him, and also that at the Emperor's headquarters +everyone adopted toward him the tone of men who know something +others do not know: he therefore wished to speak to Dolgorukov. + +"Well, how d'you do, my dear fellow?" said Dolgorukov, who was +sitting at tea with Bilibin. "The fete is for tomorrow. How is your +old fellow? Out of sorts?" + +"I won't say he is out of sorts, but I fancy he would like to be +heard." + +"But they heard him at the council of war and will hear him when +he talks sense, but to temporize and wait for something now when +Bonaparte fears nothing so much as a general battle is impossible." + +"Yes, you have seen him?" said Prince Andrew. "Well, what is +Bonaparte like? How did he impress you?" + +"Yes, I saw him, and am convinced that he fears nothing so much as a +general engagement," repeated Dolgorukov, evidently prizing this +general conclusion which he had arrived at from his interview with +Napoleon. "If he weren't afraid of a battle why did he ask for that +interview? Why negotiate, and above all why retreat, when to retreat +is so contrary to his method of conducting war? Believe me, he is +afraid, afraid of a general battle. His hour has come! Mark my words!" + +"But tell me, what is he like, eh?" said Prince Andrew again. + +"He is a man in a gray overcoat, very anxious that I should call him +'Your Majesty,' but who, to his chagrin, got no title from me! +That's the sort of man he is, and nothing more," replied Dolgorukov, +looking round at Bilibin with a smile. + +"Despite my great respect for old Kutuzov," he continued, "we should +be a nice set of fellows if we were to wait about and so give him a +chance to escape, or to trick us, now that we certainly have him in +our hands! No, we mustn't forget Suvorov and his rule- not to put +yourself in a position to be attacked, but yourself to attack. Believe +me in war the energy of young men often shows the way better than +all the experience of old Cunctators." + +"But in what position are we going to attack him? I have been at the +outposts today and it is impossible to say where his chief forces +are situated," said Prince Andrew. + +He wished to explain to Dolgorukov a plan of attack he had himself +formed. + +"Oh, that is all the same," Dolgorukov said quickly, and getting +up he spread a map on the table. "All eventualities have been +foreseen. If he is standing before Brunn..." + +And Prince Dolgorukov rapidly but indistinctly explained Weyrother's +plan of a flanking movement. + +Prince Andrew began to reply and to state his own plan, which +might have been as good as Weyrother's, but for the disadvantage +that Weyrother's had already been approved. As soon as Prince Andrew +began to demonstrate the defects of the latter and the merits of his +own plan, Prince Dolgorukov ceased to listen to him and gazed +absent-mindedly not at the map, but at Prince Andrew's face. + +"There will be a council of war at Kutuzov's tonight, though; you +can say all this there," remarked Dolgorukov. + +"I will do so," said Prince Andrew, moving away from the map. + +"Whatever are you bothering about, gentlemen?" said Bilibin, who, +till then, had listened with an amused smile to their conversation and +now was evidently ready with a joke. "Whether tomorrow brings +victory or defeat, the glory of our Russian arms is secure. Except +your Kutuzov, there is not a single Russian in command of a column! +The commanders are: Herr General Wimpfen, le Comte de Langeron, le +Prince de Lichtenstein, le Prince, de Hohenlohe, and finally +Prishprish, and so on like all those Polish names." + +"Be quiet, backbiter!" said Dolgorukov. "It is not true; there are +now two Russians, Miloradovich, and Dokhturov, and there would be a +third, Count Arakcheev, if his nerves were not too weak." + +"However, I think General Kutuzov has come out," said Prince Andrew. +"I wish you good luck and success, gentlemen!" he added and went out +after shaking hands with Dolgorukov and Bilibin. + +On the way home, Prince Andrew could not refrain from asking +Kutuzov, who was sitting silently beside him, what he thought of +tomorrow's battle. + +Kutuzov looked sternly at his adjutant and, after a pause, +replied: "I think the battle will be lost, and so I told Count Tolstoy +and asked him to tell the Emperor. What do you think he replied? 'But, +my dear general, I am engaged with rice and cutlets, look after +military matters yourself!' Yes... That was the answer I got!" + +CHAPTER XII + +Shortly after nine o'clock that evening, Weyrother drove with his +plans to Kutuzov's quarters where the council of war was to be held. +All the commanders of columns were summoned to the commander in +chief's and with the exception of Prince Bagration, who declined to +come, were all there at the appointed time. + +Weyrother, who was in full control of the proposed battle, by his +eagerness and briskness presented a marked contrast to the +dissatisfied and drowsy Kutuzov, who reluctantly played the part of +chairman and president of the council of war. Weyrother evidently felt +himself to be at the head of a movement that had already become +unrestrainable. He was like a horse running downhill harnessed to a +heavy cart. Whether he was pulling it or being pushed by it he did not +know, but rushed along at headlong speed with no time to consider what +this movement might lead to. Weyrother had been twice that evening +to the enemy's picket line to reconnoiter personally, and twice to the +Emperors, Russian and Austrian, to report and explain, and to his +headquarters where he had dictated the dispositions in German, and +now, much exhausted, he arrived at Kutuzov's. + +He was evidently so busy that he even forgot to be polite to the +commander in chief. He interrupted him, talked rapidly and +indistinctly, without looking at the man he was addressing, and did +not reply to questions put to him. He was bespattered with mud and had +a pitiful, weary, and distracted air, though at the same time he was +haughty and self-confident. + +Kutuzov was occupying a nobleman's castle of modest dimensions +near Ostralitz. In the large drawing room which had become the +commander in chief's office were gathered Kutuzov himself, +Weyrother, and the members of the council of war. They were drinking +tea, and only awaited Prince Bagration to begin the council. At last +Bagration's orderly came with the news that the prince could not +attend. Prince Andrew came in to inform the commander in chief of this +and, availing himself of permission previously given him by Kutuzov to +be present at the council, he remained in the room. + +"Since Prince Bagration is not coming, we may begin," said +Weyrother, hurriedly rising from his seat and going up to the table on +which an enormous map of the environs of Brunn was spread out. + +Kutuzov, with his uniform unbuttoned so that his fat neck bulged +over his collar as if escaping, was sitting almost asleep in a low +chair, with his podgy old hands resting symmetrically on its arms. +At the sound of Weyrother's voice, he opened his one eye with an +effort. + +"Yes, yes, if you please! It is already late," said he, and +nodding his head he let it droop and again closed his eye. + +If at first the members of the council thought that Kutuzov was +pretending to sleep, the sounds his nose emitted during the reading +that followed proved that the commander in chief at that moment was +absorbed by a far more serious matter than a desire to show his +contempt for the dispositions or anything else- he was engaged in +satisfying the irresistible human need for sleep. He really was +asleep. Weyrother, with the gesture of a man too busy to lose a +moment, glanced at Kutuzov and, having convinced himself that he was +asleep, took up a paper and in a loud, monotonous voice began to +read out the dispositions for the impending battle, under a heading +which he also read out: + +"Dispositions for an attack on the enemy position behind Kobelnitz +and Sokolnitz, November 30, 1805." + +The dispositions were very complicated and difficult. They began +as follows: + +"As the enemy's left wing rests on wooded hills and his right +extends along Kobelnitz and Sokolnitz behind the ponds that are there, +while we, on the other hand, with our left wing by far outflank his +right, it is advantageous to attack the enemy's latter wing especially +if we occupy the villages of Sokolnitz and Kobelnitz, whereby we can +both fall on his flank and pursue him over the plain between +Schlappanitz and the Thuerassa forest, avoiding the defiles of +Schlappanitz and Bellowitz which cover the enemy's front. For this +object it is necessary that... The first column marches... The +second column marches... The third column marches..." and so on, +read Weyrother. + +The generals seemed to listen reluctantly to the difficult +dispositions. The tall, fair-haired General Buxhowden stood, leaning +his back against the wall, his eyes fixed on a burning candle, and +seemed not to listen or even to wish to be thought to listen. +Exactly opposite Weyrother, with his glistening wide-open eyes fixed +upon him and his mustache twisted upwards, sat the ruddy +Miloradovich in a military pose, his elbows turned outwards, his hands +on his knees, and his shoulders raised. He remained stubbornly silent, +gazing at Weyrother's face, and only turned away his eyes when the +Austrian chief of staff finished reading. Then Miloradovich looked +round significantly at the other generals. But one could not tell from +that significant look whether he agreed or disagreed and was satisfied +or not with the arrangements. Next to Weyrother sat Count Langeron +who, with a subtle smile that never left his typically southern French +face during the whole time of the reading, gazed at his delicate +fingers which rapidly twirled by its corners a gold snuffbox on +which was a portrait. In the middle of one of the longest sentences, +he stopped the rotary motion of the snuffbox, raised his head, and +with inimical politeness lurking in the corners of his thin lips +interrupted Weyrother, wishing to say something. But the Austrian +general, continuing to read, frowned angrily and jerked his elbows, as +if to say: "You can tell me your views later, but now be so good as to +look at the map and listen." Langeron lifted his eyes with an +expression of perplexity, turned round to Miloradovich as if seeking +an explanation, but meeting the latter's impressive but meaningless +gaze drooped his eyes sadly and again took to twirling his snuffbox. + +"A geography lesson!" he muttered as if to himself, but loud +enough to be heard. + +Przebyszewski, with respectful but dignified politeness, held his +hand to his ear toward Weyrother, with the air of a man absorbed in +attention. Dohkturov, a little man, sat opposite Weyrother, with an +assiduous and modest mien, and stooping over the outspread map +conscientiously studied the dispositions and the unfamiliar +locality. He asked Weyrother several times to repeat words he had +not clearly heard and the difficult names of villages. Weyrother +complied and Dohkturov noted them down. + +When the reading which lasted more than an hour was over, Langeron +again brought his snuffbox to rest and, without looking at Weyrother +or at anyone in particular, began to say how difficult it was to carry +out such a plan in which the enemy's position was assumed to be known, +whereas it was perhaps not known, since the enemy was in movement. +Langeron's objections were valid but it was obvious that their chief +aim was to show General Weyrother- who had read his dispositions +with as much self-confidence as if he were addressing school children- +that he had to do, not with fools, but with men who could teach him +something in military matters. + +When the monotonous sound of Weyrother's voice ceased, Kutuzov +opened his eye as a miller wakes up when the soporific drone of the +mill wheel is interrupted. He listened to what Langeron said, as if +remarking, "So you are still at that silly business!" quickly closed +his eye again, and let his head sink still lower. + +Langeron, trying as virulently as possible to sting Weyrother's +vanity as author of the military plan, argued that Bonaparte might +easily attack instead of being attacked, and so render the whole of +this plan perfectly worthless. Weyrother met all objections with a +firm and contemptuous smile, evidently prepared beforehand to meet all +objections be they what they might. + +"If he could attack us, he would have done so today," said he. + +"So you think he is powerless?" said Langeron. + +"He has forty thousand men at most," replied Weyrother, with the +smile of a doctor to whom an old wife wishes to explain the +treatment of a case. + +"In that case he is inviting his doom by awaiting our attack," +said Langeron, with a subtly ironical smile, again glancing round +for support to Miloradovich who was near him. + +But Miloradovich was at that moment evidently thinking of anything +rather than of what the generals were disputing about. + +"Ma foi!" said he, "tomorrow we shall see all that on the +battlefield." + +Weyrother again gave that smile which seemed to say that to him it +was strange and ridiculous to meet objections from Russian generals +and to have to prove to them what he had not merely convinced +himself of, but had also convinced the sovereign Emperors of. + +"The enemy has quenched his fires and a continual noise is heard +from his camp," said he. "What does that mean? Either he is +retreating, which is the only thing we need fear, or he is changing +his position." (He smiled ironically.) "But even if he also took up +a position in the Thuerassa, he merely saves us a great deal of +trouble and all our arrangements to the minutest detail remain the +same." + +"How is that?..." began Prince Andrew, who had for long been waiting +an opportunity to express his doubts. + +Kutuzov here woke up, coughed heavily, and looked round at the +generals. + +"Gentlemen, the dispositions for tomorrow- or rather for today, +for it is past midnight- cannot now be altered," said he. "You have +heard them, and we shall all do our duty. But before a battle, there +is nothing more important..." he paused, "than to have a good sleep." + +He moved as if to rise. The generals bowed and retired. It was +past midnight. Prince Andrew went out. + +The council of war, at which Prince Andrew had not been able to +express his opinion as he had hoped to, left on him a vague and uneasy +impression. Whether Dolgorukov and Weyrother, or Kutuzov, Langeron, +and the others who did not approve of the plan of attack, were +right- he did not know. "But was it really not possible for Kutuzov to +state his views plainly to the Emperor? Is it possible that on account +of court and personal considerations tens of thousands of lives, and +my life, my life," he thought, "must be risked?" + +"Yes, it is very likely that I shall be killed tomorrow," he +thought. And suddenly, at this thought of death, a whole series of +most distant, most intimate, memories rose in his imagination: he +remembered his last parting from his father and his wife; he +remembered the days when he first loved her. He thought of her +pregnancy and felt sorry for her and for himself, and in a nervously +emotional and softened mood he went out of the hut in which he was +billeted with Nesvitski and began to walk up and down before it. + +The night was foggy and through the fog the moonlight gleamed +mysteriously. "Yes, tomorrow, tomorrow!" he thought. "Tomorrow +everything may be over for me! All these memories will be no more, +none of them will have any meaning for me. Tomorrow perhaps, even +certainly, I have a presentiment that for the first time I shall +have to show all I can do." And his fancy pictured the battle, its +loss, the concentration of fighting at one point, and the hesitation +of all the commanders. And then that happy moment, that Toulon for +which he had so long waited, presents itself to him at last. He firmly +and clearly expresses his opinion to Kutuzov, to Weyrother, and to the +Emperors. All are struck by the justness of his views, but no one +undertakes to carry them out, so he takes a regiment, a division- +stipulates that no one is to interfere with his arrangements- leads +his division to the decisive point, and gains the victory alone. +"But death and suffering?" suggested another voice. Prince Andrew, +however, did not answer that voice and went on dreaming of his +triumphs. The dispositions for the next battle are planned by him +alone. Nominally he is only an adjutant on Kutuzov's staff, but he +does everything alone. The next battle is won by him alone. Kutuzov is +removed and he is appointed... "Well and then?" asked the other voice. +"If before that you are not ten times wounded, killed, or betrayed, +well... what then?..." "Well then," Prince Andrew answered himself, "I +don't know what will happen and don't want to know, and can't, but +if I want this- want glory, want to be known to men, want to be +loved by them, it is not my fault that I want it and want nothing +but that and live only for that. Yes, for that alone! I shall never +tell anyone, but, oh God! what am I to do if I love nothing but fame +and men's esteem? Death, wounds, the loss of family- I fear nothing. +And precious and dear as many persons are to me- father, sister, wife- +those dearest to me- yet dreadful and unnatural as it seems, I would +give them all at once for a moment of glory, of triumph over men, of +love from men I don't know and never shall know, for the love of these +men here," he thought, as he listened to voices in Kutuzov's +courtyard. The voices were those of the orderlies who were packing up; +one voice, probably a coachman's, was teasing Kutuzov's old cook +whom Prince Andrew knew, and who was called Tit. He was saying, +"Tit, I say, Tit!" + +"Well?" returned the old man. + +"Go, Tit, thresh a bit!" said the wag. + +"Oh, go to the devil!" called out a voice, drowned by the laughter +of the orderlies and servants. + +"All the same, I love and value nothing but triumph over them all, I +value this mystic power and glory that is floating here above me in +this mist!" + +CHAPTER XIII + +That same night, Rostov was with a platoon on skirmishing duty in +front of Bagration's detachment. His hussars were placed along the +line in couples and he himself rode along the line trying to master +the sleepiness that kept coming over him. An enormous space, with +our army's campfires dimly glowing in the fog, could be seen behind +him; in front of him was misty darkness. Rostov could see nothing, +peer as he would into that foggy distance: now something gleamed gray, +now there was something black, now little lights seemed to glimmer +where the enemy ought to be, now he fancied it was only something in +his own eyes. His eyes kept closing, and in his fancy appeared- now +the Emperor, now Denisov, and now Moscow memories- and he again +hurriedly opened his eyes and saw close before him the head and ears +of the horse he was riding, and sometimes, when he came within six +paces of them, the black figures of hussars, but in the distance was +still the same misty darkness. "Why not?... It might easily happen," +thought Rostov, "that the Emperor will meet me and give me an order as +he would to any other officer; he'll say: 'Go and find out what's +there.' There are many stories of his getting to know an officer in +just such a chance way and attaching him to himself! What if he gave +me a place near him? Oh, how I would guard him, how I would tell him +the truth, how I would unmask his deceivers!" And in order to +realize vividly his love devotion to the sovereign, Rostov pictured to +himself an enemy or a deceitful German, whom he would not only kill +with pleasure but whom he would slap in the face before the Emperor. +Suddenly a distant shout aroused him. He started and opened his eyes. + +"Where am I? Oh yes, in the skirmishing line... pass and +watchword- shaft, Olmutz. What a nuisance that our squadron will be in +reserve tomorrow," he thought. "I'll ask leave to go to the front, +this may be my only chance of seeing the Emperor. It won't be long now +before I am off duty. I'll take another turn and when I get back +I'll go to the general and ask him." He readjusted himself in the +saddle and touched up his horse to ride once more round his hussars. +It seemed to him that it was getting lighter. To the left he saw a +sloping descent lit up, and facing it a black knoll that seemed as +steep as a wall. On this knoll there was a white patch that Rostov +could not at all make out: was it a glade in the wood lit up by the +moon, or some unmelted snow, or some white houses? He even thought +something moved on that white spot. "I expect it's snow... that +spot... a spot- une tache," he thought. "There now... it's not a +tache... Natasha... sister, black eyes... Na... tasha... (Won't she be +surprised when I tell her how I've seen the Emperor?) Natasha... +take my sabretache..."- "Keep to the right, your honor, there are +bushes here," came the voice of an hussar, past whom Rostov was riding +in the act of falling asleep. Rostov lifted his head that had sunk +almost to his horse's mane and pulled up beside the hussar. He was +succumbing to irresistible, youthful, childish drowsiness. "But what +was I thinking? I mustn't forget. How shall I speak to the Emperor? +No, that's not it- that's tomorrow. Oh yes! Natasha... sabretache... +saber them...Whom? The hussars... Ah, the hussars with mustaches. +Along the Tverskaya Street rode the hussar with mustaches... I thought +about him too, just opposite Guryev's house... Old Guryev.... Oh, +but Denisov's a fine fellow. But that's all nonsense. The chief +thing is that the Emperor is here. How he looked at me and wished to +say something, but dared not.... No, it was I who dared not. But +that's nonsense, the chief thing is not to forget the important +thing I was thinking of. Yes, Na-tasha, sabretache, oh, yes, yes! +That's right!" And his head once more sank to his horse's neck. All at +once it seemed to him that he was being fired at. "What? What? +What?... Cut them down! What?..." said Rostov, waking up. At the +moment he opened his eyes his eyes he heard in front of him, where the +enemy was, the long-drawn shouts of thousands of voices. His horse and +the horse of the hussar near him pricked their ears at these shouts. +Over there, where the shouting came from, a fire flared up and went +out again, then another, and all along the French line on the hill +fires flared up and the shouting grew louder and louder. Rostov +could hear the sound of French words but could not distinguish them. +The din of many voices was too great; all he could hear was: "ahahah!" +and "rrrr!" + +"What's that? What do you make of it?" said Rostov to the hussar +beside him. "That must be the enemy's camp!" + +The hussar did not reply. + +"Why, don't you hear it?" Rostov asked again, after waiting for a +reply. + +"Who can tell, your honor?" replied the hussar reluctantly. + +"From the direction, it must be the enemy," repeated Rostov. + +"It may be he or it may be nothing," muttered the hussar. "It's +dark... Steady!" he cried to his fidgeting horse. + +Rostov's horse was also getting restive: it pawed the frozen ground, +pricking its ears at the noise and looking at the lights. The shouting +grew still louder and merged into a general roar that only an army +of several thousand men could produce. The lights spread farther and +farther, probably along the line of the French camp. Rostov no +longer wanted to sleep. The gay triumphant shouting of the enemy +army had a stimulating effect on him. "Vive l'Empereur! L'Empereur!" +he now heard distinctly. + +"They can't be far off, probably just beyond the stream," he said to +the hussar beside him. + +The hussar only sighed without replying and coughed angrily. The +sound of horse's hoofs approaching at a trot along the line of hussars +was heard, and out of the foggy darkness the figure of a sergeant of +hussars suddenly appeared, looming huge as an elephant. + +"Your honor, the generals!" said the sergeant, riding up to Rostov. + +Rostov, still looking round toward the fires and the shouts, rode +with the sergeant to meet some mounted men who were riding along the +line. One was on a white horse. Prince Bagration and Prince Dolgorukov +with their adjutants had come to witness the curious phenomenon of the +lights and shouts in the enemy's camp. Rostov rode up to Bagration, +reported to him, and then joined the adjutants listening to what the +generals were saying. + +"Believe me," said Prince Dolgorukov, addressing Bagration, "it is +nothing but a trick! He has retreated and ordered the rearguard to +kindle fires and make a noise to deceive us." + +"Hardly," said Bagration. "I saw them this evening on that knoll; if +they had retreated they would have withdrawn from that too.... +Officer!" said Bagration to Rostov, "are the enemy's skirmishers still +there?" + +"They were there this evening, but now I don't know, your +excellency. Shall I go with some of my hussars to see?" replied +Rostov. + +Bagration stopped and, before replying, tried to see Rostov's face +in the mist. + +"Well, go and see," he said, after a pause. + +"Yes, sir." + +Rostov spurred his horse, called to Sergeant Fedchenko and two other +hussars, told them to follow him, and trotted downhill in the +direction from which the shouting came. He felt both frightened and +pleased to be riding alone with three hussars into that mysterious and +dangerous misty distance where no one had been before him. Bagration +called to him from the hill not to go beyond the stream, but Rostov +pretended not to hear him and did not stop but rode on and on, +continually mistaking bushes for trees and gullies for men and +continually discovering his mistakes. Having descended the hill at a +trot, he no longer saw either our own or the enemy's fires, but +heard the shouting of the French more loudly and distinctly. In the +valley he saw before him something like a river, but when he reached +it he found it was a road. Having come out onto the road he reined +in his horse, hesitating whether to ride along it or cross it and ride +over the black field up the hillside. To keep to the road which +gleamed white in the mist would have been safer because it would be +easier to see people coming along it. "Follow me!" said he, crossed +the road, and began riding up the hill at a gallop toward the point +where the French pickets had been standing that evening. + +"Your honor, there he is!" cried one of the hussars behind him. +And before Rostov had time to make out what the black thing was that +had suddenly appeared in the fog, there was a flash, followed by a +report, and a bullet whizzing high up in the mist with a plaintive +sound passed out of hearing. Another musket missed fire but flashed in +the pan. Rostov turned his horse and galloped back. Four more +reports followed at intervals, and the bullets passed somewhere in the +fog singing in different tones. Rostov reined in his horse, whose +spirits had risen, like his own, at the firing, and went back at a +footpace. "Well, some more! Some more!" a merry voice was saying in +his soul. But no more shots came. + +Only when approaching Bagration did Rostov let his horse gallop +again, and with his hand at the salute rode up to the general. + +Dolgorukov was still insisting that the French had retreated and had +only lit fires to deceive us. + +"What does that prove?" he was saying as Rostov rode up. "They might +retreat and leave the pickets." + +"It's plain that they have not all gone yet, Prince," said +Bagration. "Wait till tomorrow morning, we'll find out everything +tomorrow." + +"The picket is still on the hill, your excellency, just where it was +in the evening," reported Rostov, stooping forward with his hand at +the salute and unable to repress the smile of delight induced by his +ride and especially by the sound of the bullets. + +"Very good, very good," said Bagration. "Thank you, officer." + +"Your excellency," said Rostov, "may I ask a favor?" + +"What is it?" + +"Tomorrow our squadron is to be in reserve. May I ask to be attached +to the first squadron?" + +"What's your name?" + +"Count Rostov." + +"Oh, very well, you may stay in attendance on me." + +"Count Ilya Rostov's son?" asked Dolgorukov. + +But Rostov did not reply. + +"Then I may reckon on it, your excellency?" + +"I will give the order." + +"Tomorrow very likely I may be sent with some message to the +Emperor," thought Rostov. + +"Thank God!" + +The fires and shouting in the enemy's army were occasioned by the +fact that while Napoleon's proclamation was being read to the troops +the Emperor himself rode round his bivouacs. The soldiers, on seeing +him, lit wisps of straw and ran after him, shouting, "Vive +l'Empereur!" Napoleon's proclamation was as follows: + +Soldiers! The Russian army is advancing against you to avenge the +Austrian army of Ulm. They are the same battalions you broke at +Hollabrunn and have pursued ever since to this place. The position +we occupy is a strong one, and while they are marching to go round +me on the right they will expose a flank to me. Soldiers! I will +myself direct your battalions. I will keep out of fire if you with +your habitual valor carry disorder and confusion into the enemy's +ranks, but should victory be in doubt, even for a moment, you will see +your Emperor exposing himself to the first blows of the enemy, for +there must be no doubt of victory, especially on this day when what is +at stake is the honor of the French infantry, so necessary to the +honor of our nation. + +Do not break your ranks on the plea of removing the wounded! Let +every man be fully imbued with the thought that we must defeat these +hirelings of England, inspired by such hatred of our nation! This +victory will conclude our campaign and we can return to winter +quarters, where fresh French troops who are being raised in France +will join us, and the peace I shall conclude will be worthy of my +people, of you, and of myself. + +NAPOLEON + +CHAPTER XIV + +At five in the morning it was still quite dark. The troops of the +center, the reserves, and Bagration's right flank had not yet moved, +but on the left flank the columns of infantry, cavalry, and artillery, +which were to be the first to descend the heights to attack the French +right flank and drive it into the Bohemian mountains according to +plan, were already up and astir. The smoke of the campfires, into +which they were throwing everything superfluous, made the eyes +smart. It was cold and dark. The officers were hurriedly drinking +tea and breakfasting, the soldiers, munching biscuit and beating a +tattoo with their feet to warm themselves, gathering round the fires +throwing into the flames the remains of sheds, chairs, tables, wheels, +tubs, and everything that they did not want or could not carry away +with them. Austrian column guides were moving in and out among the +Russian troops and served as heralds of the advance. As soon as an +Austrian officer showed himself near a commanding officer's +quarters, the regiment began to move: the soldiers ran from the fires, +thrust their pipes into their boots, their bags into the carts, got +their muskets ready, and formed rank. The officers buttoned up their +coats, buckled on their swords and pouches, and moved along the +ranks shouting. The train drivers and orderlies harnessed and packed +the wagons and tied on the loads. The adjutants and battalion and +regimental commanders mounted, crossed themselves, gave final +instructions, orders, and commissions to the baggage men who +remained behind, and the monotonous tramp of thousands of feet +resounded. The column moved forward without knowing where and +unable, from the masses around them, the smoke and the increasing fog, +to see either the place they were leaving or that to which they were +going. + +A soldier on the march is hemmed in and borne along by his +regiment as much as a sailor is by his ship. However far he has +walked, whatever strange, unknown, and dangerous places he reaches, +just as a sailor is always surrounded by the same decks, masts, and +rigging of his ship, so the soldier always has around him the same +comrades, the same ranks, the same sergeant major Ivan Mitrich, the +same company dog Jack, and the same commanders. The sailor rarely +cares to know the latitude in which his ship is sailing, but on the +day of battle- heaven knows how and whence- a stern note of which +all are conscious sounds in the moral atmosphere of an army, +announcing the approach of something decisive and solemn, and +awakening in the men an unusual curiosity. On the day of battle the +soldiers excitedly try to get beyond the interests of their +regiment, they listen intently, look about, and eagerly ask concerning +what is going on around them. + +The fog had grown so dense that though it was growing light they +could not see ten paces ahead. Bushes looked like gigantic trees and +level ground like cliffs and slopes. Anywhere, on any side, one +might encounter an enemy invisible ten paces off. But the columns +advanced for a long time, always in the same fog, descending and +ascending hills, avoiding gardens and enclosures, going over new and +unknown ground, and nowhere encountering the enemy. On the contrary, +the soldiers became aware that in front, behind, and on all sides, +other Russian columns were moving in the same direction. Every soldier +felt glad to know that to the unknown place where he was going, many +more of our men were going too. + +"There now, the Kurskies have also gone past," was being said in the +ranks. + +"It's wonderful what a lot of our troops have gathered, lads! Last +night I looked at the campfires and there was no end of them. A +regular Moscow!" + +Though none of the column commanders rode up to the ranks or +talked to the men (the commanders, as we saw at the council of war, +were out of humor and dissatisfied with the affair, and so did not +exert themselves to cheer the men but merely carried out the +orders), yet the troops marched gaily, as they always do when going +into action, especially to an attack. But when they had marched for +about an hour in the dense fog, the greater part of the men had to +halt and an unpleasant consciousness of some dislocation and blunder +spread through the ranks. How such a consciousness is communicated +is very difficult to define, but it certainly is communicated very +surely, and flows rapidly, imperceptibly, and irrepressibly, as +water does in a creek. Had the Russian army been alone without any +allies, it might perhaps have been a long time before this +consciousness of mismanagement became a general conviction, but as +it was, the disorder was readily and naturally attributed to the +stupid Germans, and everyone was convinced that a dangerous muddle had +been occasioned by the sausage eaters. + +"Why have we stopped? Is the way blocked? Or have we already come up +against the French?" + +"No, one can't hear them. They'd be firing if we had." + +"They were in a hurry enough to start us, and now here we stand in +the middle of a field without rhyme or reason. It's all those damned +Germans' muddling! What stupid devils!" + +"Yes, I'd send them on in front, but no fear, they're crowding up +behind. And now here we stand hungry." + +"I say, shall we soon be clear? They say the cavalry are blocking +the way," said an officer. + +"Ah, those damned Germans! They don't know their own country!" +said another. + +"What division are you?" shouted an adjutant, riding up. + +"The Eighteenth." + +"Then why are you here? You should have gone on long ago, now you +won't get there till evening." + +"What stupid orders! They don't themselves know what they are +doing!" said the officer and rode off. + +Then a general rode past shouting something angrily, not in Russian. + +"Tafa-lafa! But what he's jabbering no one can make out," said a +soldier, mimicking the general who had ridden away. "I'd shoot them, +the scoundrels!" + +"We were ordered to be at the place before nine, but we haven't +got halfway. Fine orders!" was being repeated on different sides. + +And the feeling of energy with which the troops had started began to +turn into vexation and anger at the stupid arrangements and at the +Germans. + +The cause of the confusion was that while the Austrian cavalry was +moving toward our left flank, the higher command found that our center +was too far separated from our right flank and the cavalry were all +ordered to turn back to the right. Several thousand cavalry crossed in +front of the infantry, who had to wait. + +At the front an altercation occurred between an Austrian guide and a +Russian general. The general shouted a demand that the cavalry +should be halted, the Austrian argued that not he, but the higher +command, was to blame. The troops meanwhile stood growing listless and +dispirited. After an hour's delay they at last moved on, descending +the hill. The fog that was dispersing on the hill lay still more +densely below, where they were descending. In front in the fog a +shot was heard and then another, at first irregularly at varying +intervals- trata... tat- and then more and more regularly and rapidly, +and the action at the Goldbach Stream began. + +Not expecting to come on the enemy down by the stream, and having +stumbled on him in the fog, hearing no encouraging word from their +commanders, and with a consciousness of being too late spreading +through the ranks, and above all being unable to see anything in front +or around them in the thick fog, the Russians exchanged shots with the +enemy lazily and advanced and again halted, receiving no timely orders +from the officers or adjutants who wandered about in the fog in +those unknown surroundings unable to find their own regiments. In this +way the action began for the first, second, and third columns, which +had gone down into the valley. The fourth column, with which Kutuzov +was, stood on the Pratzen Heights. + +Below, where the fight was beginning, there was still thick fog; +on the higher ground it was clearing, but nothing could be seen of +what was going on in front. Whether all the enemy forces were, as we +supposed, six miles away, or whether they were near by in that sea +of mist, no one knew till after eight o'clock. + +It was nine o'clock in the morning. The fog lay unbroken like a +sea down below, but higher up at the village of Schlappanitz where +Napoleon stood with his marshals around him, it was quite light. Above +him was a clear blue sky, and the sun's vast orb quivered like a +huge hollow, crimson float on the surface of that milky sea of mist. +The whole French army, and even Napoleon himself with his staff, +were not on the far side of the streams and hollows of Sokolnitz and +Schlappanitz beyond which we intended to take up our position and +begin the action, but were on this side, so close to our own forces +that Napoleon with the naked eye could distinguish a mounted man +from one on foot. Napoleon, in the blue cloak which he had worn on his +Italian campaign, sat on his small gray Arab horse a little in front +of his marshals. He gazed silently at the hills which seemed to rise +out of the sea of mist and on which the Russian troops were moving +in the distance, and he listened to the sounds of firing in the +valley. Not a single muscle of his face- which in those days was still +thin- moved. His gleaming eyes were fixed intently on one spot. His +predictions were being justified. Part of the Russian force had +already descended into the valley toward the ponds and lakes and +part were leaving these Pratzen Heights which he intended to attack +and regarded as the key to the position. He saw over the mist that +in a hollow between two hills near the village of Pratzen, the Russian +columns, their bayonets glittering, were moving continuously in one +direction toward the valley and disappearing one after another into +the mist. From information he had received the evening before, from +the sound of wheels and footsteps heard by the outposts during the +night, by the disorderly movement of the Russian columns, and from all +indications, he saw clearly that the allies believed him to be far +away in front of them, and that the columns moving near Pratzen +constituted the center of the Russian army, and that that center was +already sufficiently weakened to be successfully attacked. But still +he did not begin the engagement. + +Today was a great day for him- the anniversary of his coronation. +Before dawn he had slept for a few hours, and refreshed, vigorous, and +in good spirits, he mounted his horse and rode out into the field in +that happy mood in which everything seems possible and everything +succeeds. He sat motionless, looking at the heights visible above +the mist, and his cold face wore that special look of confident, +self-complacent happiness that one sees on the face of a boy happily +in love. The marshals stood behind him not venturing to distract his +attention. He looked now at the Pratzen Heights, now at the sun +floating up out of the mist. + +When the sun had entirely emerged from the fog, and fields and +mist were aglow with dazzling light- as if he had only awaited this to +begin the action- he drew the glove from his shapely white hand, +made a sign with it to the marshals, and ordered the action to +begin. The marshals, accompanied by adjutants, galloped off in +different directions, and a few minutes later the chief forces of +the French army moved rapidly toward those Pratzen Heights which +were being more and more denuded by Russian troops moving down the +valley to their left. + +CHAPTER XV + +At eight o'clock Kutuzov rode to Pratzen at the head of the fourth +column, Miloradovich's, the one that was to take the place of +Przebyszewski's and Langeron's columns which had already gone down +into the valley. He greeted the men of the foremost regiment and +gave them the order to march, thereby indicating that he intended to +lead that column himself. When he had reached the village of Pratzen +he halted. Prince Andrew was behind, among the immense number +forming the commander in chief's suite. He was in a state of +suppressed excitement and irritation, though controlledly calm as a +man is at the approach of a long-awaited moment. He was firmly +convinced that this was the day of his Toulon, or his bridge of +Arcola. How it would come about he did not know, but he felt sure it +would do so. The locality and the position of our troops were known to +him as far as they could be known to anyone in our army. His own +strategic plan, which obviously could not now be carried out, was +forgotten. Now, entering into Weyrother's plan, Prince Andrew +considered possible contingencies and formed new projects such as +might call for his rapidity of perception and decision. + +To the left down below in the mist, the musketry fire of unseen +forces could be heard. It was there Prince Andrew thought the fight +would concentrate. "There we shall encounter difficulties, and there," +thought he, "I shall be sent with a brigade or division, and there, +standard in hand, I shall go forward and break whatever is in front of +me." + +He could not look calmly at the standards of the passing battalions. +Seeing them he kept thinking, "That may be the very standard with +which I shall lead the army." + +In the morning all that was left of the night mist on the heights +was a hoar frost now turning to dew, but in the valleys it still lay +like a milk-white sea. Nothing was visible in the valley to the left +into which our troops had descended and from whence came the sounds of +firing. Above the heights was the dark clear sky, and to the right the +vast orb of the sun. In front, far off on the farther shore of that +sea of mist, some wooded hills were discernible, and it was there +the enemy probably was, for something could be descried. On the +right the Guards were entering the misty region with a sound of +hoofs and wheels and now and then a gleam of bayonets; to the left +beyond the village similar masses of cavalry came up and disappeared +in the sea of mist. In front and behind moved infantry. The +commander in chief was standing at the end of the village letting +the troops pass by him. That morning Kutuzov seemed worn and +irritable. The infantry passing before him came to a halt without +any command being given, apparently obstructed by something in front. + +"Do order them to form into battalion columns and go round the +village!" he said angrily to a general who had ridden up. "Don't you +understand, your excellency, my dear sir, that you must not defile +through narrow village streets when we are marching against the +enemy?" + +"I intended to re-form them beyond the village, your excellency," +answered the general. + +Kutuzov laughed bitterly. + +"You'll make a fine thing of it, deploying in sight of the enemy! +Very fine!" + +"The enemy is still far away, your excellency. According to the +dispositions..." + +"The dispositions!" exclaimed Kutuzov bitterly. "Who told you +that?... Kindly do as you are ordered." + +"Yes, sir." + +"My dear fellow," Nesvitski whispered to Prince Andrew, "the old man +is as surly as a dog." + +An Austrian officer in a white uniform with green plumes in his +hat galloped up to Kutuzov and asked in the Emperor's name had the +fourth column advanced into action. + +Kutuzov turned round without answering and his eye happened to +fall upon Prince Andrew, who was beside him. Seeing him, Kutuzov's +malevolent and caustic expression softened, as if admitting that +what was being done was not his adjutant's fault, and still not +answering the Austrian adjutant, he addressed Bolkonski. + +"Go, my dear fellow, and see whether the third division has passed +the village. Tell it to stop and await my orders." + +Hardly had Prince Andrew started than he stopped him. + +"And ask whether sharpshooters have been posted," he added. "What +are they doing? What are they doing?" he murmured to himself, still +not replying to the Austrian. + +Prince Andrew galloped off to execute the order. + +Overtaking the battalions that continued to advance, he stopped +the third division and convinced himself that there really were no +sharpshooters in front of our columns. The colonel at the head of +the regiment was much surprised at the commander in chief's order to +throw out skirmishers. He had felt perfectly sure that there were +other troops in front of him and that the enemy must be at least six +miles away. There was really nothing to be seen in front except a +barren descent hidden by dense mist. Having given orders in the +commander in chief's name to rectify this omission, Prince Andrew +galloped back. Kutuzov still in the same place, his stout body resting +heavily in the saddle with the lassitude of age, sat yawning wearily +with closed eyes. The troops were no longer moving, but stood with the +butts of their muskets on the ground. + +"All right, all right!" he said to Prince Andrew, and turned to a +general who, watch in hand, was saying it was time they started as all +the left-flank columns had already descended. + +"Plenty of time, your excellency," muttered Kutuzov in the midst +of a yawn. "Plenty of time," he repeated. + +Just then at a distance behind Kutuzov was heard the sound of +regiments saluting, and this sound rapidly came nearer along the whole +extended line of the advancing Russian columns. Evidently the person +they were greeting was riding quickly. When the soldiers of the +regiment in front of which Kutuzov was standing began to shout, he +rode a little to one side and looked round with a frown. Along the +road from Pratzen galloped what looked like a squadron of horsemen +in various uniforms. Two of them rode side by side in front, at full +gallop. One in a black uniform with white plumes in his hat rode a +bobtailed chestnut horse, the other who was in a white uniform rode +a black one. These were the two Emperors followed by their suites. +Kutuzov, affecting the manners of an old soldier at the front, gave +the command "Attention!" and rode up to the Emperors with a salute. +His whole appearance and manner were suddenly transformed. He put on +the air of a subordinate who obeys without reasoning. With an +affectation of respect which evidently struck Alexander +unpleasantly, he rode up and saluted. + +This unpleasant impression merely flitted over the young and happy +face of the Emperor like a cloud of haze across a clear sky and +vanished. After his illness he looked rather thinner that day than +on the field of Olmutz where Bolkonski had seen him for the first time +abroad, but there was still the same bewitching combination of majesty +and mildness in his fine gray eyes, and on his delicate lips the +same capacity for varying expression and the same prevalent appearance +of goodhearted innocent youth. + +At the Olmutz review he had seemed more majestic; here he seemed +brighter and more energetic. He was slightly flushed after galloping +two miles, and reining in his horse he sighed restfully and looked +round at the faces of his suite, young and animated as his own. +Czartoryski, Novosiltsev, Prince Volkonsky, Strogonov, and the others, +all richly dressed gay young men on splendid, well-groomed, fresh, +only slightly heated horses, exchanging remarks and smiling, had +stopped behind the Emperor. The Emperor Francis, a rosy, long faced +young man, sat very erect on his handsome black horse, looking about +him in a leisurely and preoccupied manner. He beckoned to one of his +white adjutants and asked some question- "Most likely he is asking +at what o'clock they started," thought Prince Andrew, watching his old +acquaintance with a smile he could not repress as he recalled his +reception at Brunn. In the Emperors' suite were the picked young +orderly officers of the Guard and line regiments, Russian and +Austrian. Among them were grooms leading the Tsar's beautiful relay +horses covered with embroidered cloths. + +As when a window is opened a whiff of fresh air from the fields +enters a stuffy room, so a whiff of youthfulness, energy, and +confidence of success reached Kutuzov's cheerless staff with the +galloping advent of all these brilliant young men. + +"Why aren't you beginning, Michael Ilarionovich?" said the Emperor +Alexander hurriedly to Kutuzov, glancing courteously at the same +time at the Emperor Francis. + +"I am waiting, Your Majesty," answered Kutuzov, bending forward +respectfully. + +The Emperor, frowning slightly, bent his ear forward as if he had +not quite heard. + +"Waiting, Your Majesty," repeated Kutuzov. (Prince Andrew noted that +Kutuzov's upper lip twitched unnaturally as he said the word +"waiting.") "Not all the columns have formed up yet, Your Majesty." + +The Tsar heard but obviously did not like the reply; he shrugged his +rather round shoulders and glanced at Novosiltsev who was near him, as +if complaining of Kutuzov. + +"You know, Michael Ilarionovich, we are not are not on the +Empress' Field where a parade does not begin till all the troops are +assembled," said the Tsar with another glance at the Emperor +Francis, as if inviting him if not to join in at least to listen to +what he was saying. But the Emperor Francis continued to look about +him and did not listen. + +"That is just why I do not begin, sire," said Kutuzov in a +resounding voice, apparently to preclude the possibility of not +being heard, and again something in his face twitched- "That is just +why I do not begin, sire, because we are not on parade and not on +the Empress' Field." said clearly and distinctly. + +In the Emperor's suite all exchanged rapid looks that expressed +dissatisfaction and reproach. "Old though he may be, he should not, he +certainly should not, speak like that," their glances seemed to say. + +The Tsar looked intently and observantly into Kutuzov's eye +waiting to hear whether he would say anything more. But Kutuzov, +with respectfully bowed head, seemed also to be waiting. The silence +lasted for about a minute. + +"However, if you command it, Your Majesty," said Kutuzov, lifting +his head and again assuming his former tone of a dull, unreasoning, +but submissive general. + +He touched his horse and having called Miloradovich, the commander +of the column, gave him the order to advance. + +The troops again began to move, and two battalions of the Novgorod +and one of the Apsheron regiment went forward past the Emperor. + +As this Apsheron battalion marched by, the red-faced Miloradovich, +without his greatcoat, with his Orders on his breast and an enormous +tuft of plumes in his cocked hat worn on one side with its corners +front and back, galloped strenuously forward, and with a dashing +salute reined in his horse before the Emperor. + +"God be with you, general!" said the Emperor. + +"Ma foi, sire, nous ferons ce qui sera dans notre possibilite, +sire,"~^ he answered gaily, raising nevertheless ironic smiles among +the gentlemen of the Tsar's suite by his poor French. + +^~ "Indeed, Sire, we shall do everything it is possible to do, Sire." + +Miloradovich wheeled his horse sharply and stationed himself a +little behind the Emperor. The Apsheron men, excited by the Tsar's +presence, passed in step before the Emperors and their suites at a +bold, brisk pace. + +"Lads!" shouted Miloradovich in a loud, self-confident, and cheery +voice, obviously so elated by the sound of firing, by the prospect +of battle, and by the sight of the gallant Apsherons, his comrades +in Suvorov's time, now passing so gallantly before the Emperors, +that he forgot the sovereigns' presence. "Lads, it's not the first +village you've had to take," cried he. + +"Glad to do our best!" shouted the soldiers. + +The Emperor's horse started at the sudden cry. This horse that had +carried the sovereign at reviews in Russia bore him also here on the +field of Austerlitz, enduring the heedless blows of his left foot +and pricking its ears at the sound of shots just as it had done on the +Empress' Field, not understanding the significance of the firing, +nor of the nearness of the Emperor Francis' black cob, nor of all that +was being said, thought, and felt that day by its rider. + +The Emperor turned with a smile to one of his followers and made a +remark to him, pointing to the gallant Apsherons. + +CHAPTER XVI + +Kutuzov accompanied by his adjutants rode at a walking pace behind +the carabineers. + +When he had gone less than half a mile in the rear of the column +he stopped at a solitary, deserted house that had probably once been +an inn, where two roads parted. Both of them led downhill and troops +were marching along both. + +The fog had begun to clear and enemy troops were already dimly +visible about a mile and a half off on the opposite heights. Down +below, on the left, the firing became more distinct. Kutuzov had +stopped and was speaking to an Austrian general. Prince Andrew, who +was a little behind looking at them, turned to an adjutant to ask +him for a field glass. + +"Look, look!" said this adjutant, looking not at the troops in the +distance, but down the hill before him. "It's the French!" + +The two generals and the adjutant took hold of the field glass, +trying to snatch it from one another. The expression on all their +faces suddenly changed to one of horror. The French were supposed to +be a mile and a half away, but had suddenly and unexpectedly +appeared just in front of us. + +"It's the enemy?... No!... Yes, see it is!... for certain.... But +how is that?" said different voices. + +With the naked eye Prince Andrew saw below them to the right, not +more than five hundred paces from where Kutuzov was standing, a +dense French column coming up to meet the Apsherons. + +"Here it is! The decisive moment has arrived. My turn has come," +thought Prince Andrew, and striking his horse he rode up to Kutuzov. + +"The Apsherons must be stopped, your excellency," cried he. But at +that very instant a cloud of smoke spread all round, firing was +heard quite close at hand, and a voice of naive terror barely two +steps from Prince Andrew shouted, "Brothers! All's lost!" And at +this as if at a command, everyone began to run. + +Confused and ever-increasing crowds were running back to where +five minutes before the troops had passed the Emperors. Not only would +it have been difficult to stop that crowd, it was even impossible +not to be carried back with it oneself. Bolkonski only tried not to +lose touch with it, and looked around bewildered and unable to grasp +what was happening in front of him. Nesvitski with an angry face, +red and unlike himself, was shouting to Kutuzov that if he did not +ride away at once he would certainly be taken prisoner. Kutuzov +remained in the same place and without answering drew out a +handkerchief. Blood was flowing from his cheek. Prince Andrew forced +his way to him. + +"You are wounded?" he asked, hardly able to master the trembling +of his lower jaw. + +"The wound is not here, it is there!" said Kutuzov, pressing the +handkerchief to his wounded cheek and pointing to the fleeing +soldiers. "Stop them!" he shouted, and at the same moment, probably +realizing that it was impossible to stop them, spurred his horse and +rode to the right. + +A fresh wave of the flying mob caught him and bore him back with it. + +The troops were running in such a dense mass that once surrounded by +them it was difficult to get out again. One was shouting, "Get on! Why +are you hindering us?" Another in the same place turned round and +fired in the air; a third was striking the horse Kutuzov himself rode. +Having by a great effort got away to the left from that flood of +men, Kutuzov, with his suite diminished by more than half, rode toward +a sound of artillery fire near by. Having forced his way out of the +crowd of fugitives, Prince Andrew, trying to keep near Kutuzov, saw on +the slope of the hill amid the smoke a Russian battery that was +still firing and Frenchmen running toward it. Higher up stood some +Russian infantry, neither moving forward to protect the battery nor +backward with the fleeing crowd. A mounted general separated himself +from the infantry and approached Kutuzov. Of Kutuzov's suite only four +remained. They were all pale and exchanged looks in silence. + +"Stop those wretches!" gasped Kutuzov to the regimental commander, +pointing to the flying soldiers; but at that instant, as if to +punish him for those words, bullets flew hissing across the regiment +and across Kutuzov's suite like a flock of little birds. + +The French had attacked the battery and, seeing Kutuzov, were firing +at him. After this volley the regimental commander clutched at his +leg; several soldiers fell, and a second lieutenant who was holding +the flag let it fall from his hands. It swayed and fell, but caught on +the muskets of the nearest soldiers. The soldiers started firing +without orders. + +"Oh! Oh! Oh!" groaned Kutuzov despairingly and looked around.... +"Bolkonski!" he whispered, his voice trembling from a consciousness of +the feebleness of age, "Bolkonski!" he whispered, pointing to the +disordered battalion and at the enemy, "what's that?" + +But before he had finished speaking, Prince Andrew, feeling tears of +shame and anger choking him, had already leapt from his horse and +run to the standard. + +"Forward, lads!" he shouted in a voice piercing as a child's. + +"Here it is!" thought he, seizing the staff of the standard and +hearing with pleasure the whistle of bullets evidently aimed at him. +Several soldiers fell. + +"Hurrah!" shouted Prince Andrew, and, scarcely able to hold up the +heavy standard, he ran forward with full confidence that the whole +battalion would follow him. + +And really he only ran a few steps alone. One soldier moved and then +another and soon the whole battalion ran forward shouting "Hurrah!" +and overtook him. A sergeant of the battalion ran up and took the flag +that was swaying from its weight in Prince Andrew's hands, but he +was immediately killed. Prince Andrew again seized the standard and, +dragging it by the staff, ran on with the battalion. In front he saw +our artillerymen, some of whom were fighting, while others, having +abandoned their guns, were running toward him. He also saw French +infantry soldiers who were seizing the artillery horses and turning +the guns round. Prince Andrew and the battalion were already within +twenty paces of the cannon. He heard the whistle of bullets above +him unceasingly and to right and left of him soldiers continually +groaned and dropped. But he did not look at them: he looked only at +what was going on in front of him- at the battery. He now saw +clearly the figure of a red-haired gunner with his shako knocked awry, +pulling one end of a mop while a French soldier tugged at the other. +He could distinctly see the distraught yet angry expression on the +faces of these two men, who evidently did not realize what they were +doing. + +"What are they about?" thought Prince Andrew as he gazed at them. +"Why doesn't the red-haired gunner run away as he is unarmed? Why +doesn't the Frenchman stab him? He will not get away before the +Frenchman remembers his bayonet and stabs him...." + +And really another French soldier, trailing his musket, ran up to +the struggling men, and the fate of the red-haired gunner, who had +triumphantly secured the mop and still did not realize what awaited +him, was about to be decided. But Prince Andrew did not see how it +ended. It seemed to him as though one of the soldiers near him hit him +on the head with the full swing of a bludgeon. It hurt a little, but +the worst of it was that the pain distracted him and prevented his +seeing what he had been looking at. + +"What's this? Am I falling? My legs are giving way," thought he, and +fell on his back. He opened his eyes, hoping to see how the struggle +of the Frenchmen with the gunners ended, whether the red-haired gunner +had been killed or not and whether the cannon had been captured or +saved. But he saw nothing. Above him there was now nothing but the +sky- the lofty sky, not clear yet still immeasurably lofty, with +gray clouds gliding slowly across it. "How quiet, peaceful, and +solemn; not at all as I ran," thought Prince Andrew- "not as we ran, +shouting and fighting, not at all as the gunner and the Frenchman with +frightened and angry faces struggled for the mop: how differently do +those clouds glide across that lofty infinite sky! How was it I did +not see that lofty sky before? And how happy I am to have found it +at last! Yes! All is vanity, all falsehood, except that infinite +sky. There is nothing, nothing, but that. But even it does not +exist, there is nothing but quiet and peace. Thank God!..." + +CHAPTER XVII + +On our right flank commanded by Bagration, at nine o'clock the +battle had not yet begun. Not wishing to agree to Dolgorukov's +demand to commence the action, and wishing to avert responsibility +from himself, Prince Bagration proposed to Dolgorukov to send to +inquire of the commander in chief. Bagration knew that as the distance +between the two flanks was more than six miles, even if the +messenger were not killed (which he very likely would be), and found +the commander in chief (which would be very difficult), he would not +be able to get back before evening. + +Bagration cast his large, expressionless, sleepy eyes round his +suite, and the boyish face Rostov, breathless with excitement and +hope, was the first to catch his eye. He sent him. + +"And if I should meet His Majesty before I meet the commander in +chief, your excellency?" said Rostov, with his hand to his cap. + +"You can give the message to His Majesty," said Dolgorukov, +hurriedly interrupting Bagration. + +On being relieved from picket duty Rostov had managed to get a few +hours' sleep before morning and felt cheerful, bold, and resolute, +with elasticity of movement, faith in his good fortune, and +generally in that state of mind which makes everything seem +possible, pleasant, and easy. + +All his wishes were being fulfilled that morning: there was to be +a general engagement in which he was taking part, more than that, he +was orderly to the bravest general, and still more, he was going +with a message to Kutuzov, perhaps even to the sovereign himself. +The morning was bright, he had a good horse under him, and his heart +was full of joy and happiness. On receiving the order he gave his +horse the rein and galloped along the line. At first he rode along the +line of Bagration's troops, which had not yet advanced into action but +were standing motionless; then he came to the region occupied by +Uvarov's cavalry and here he noticed a stir and signs of preparation +for battle; having passed Uvarov's cavalry he clearly heard the +sound of cannon and musketry ahead of him. The firing grew louder +and louder. + +In the fresh morning air were now heard, not two or three musket +shots at irregular intervals as before, followed by one or two +cannon shots, but a roll of volleys of musketry from the slopes of the +hill before Pratzen, interrupted by such frequent reports of cannon +that sometimes several of them were not separated from one another but +merged into a general roar. + +He could see puffs of musketry smoke that seemed to chase one +another down the hillsides, and clouds of cannon smoke rolling, +spreading, and mingling with one another. He could also, by the +gleam of bayonets visible through the smoke, make out moving masses of +infantry and narrow lines of artillery with green caissons. + +Rostov stopped his horse for a moment on a hillock to see what was +going on, but strain his attention as he would he could not understand +or make out anything of what was happening: there in the smoke men +of some sort were moving about, in front and behind moved lines of +troops; but why, whither, and who they were, it was impossible to make +out. These sights and sounds had no depressing or intimidating +effect on him; on the contrary, they stimulated his energy and +determination. + +"Go on! Go on! Give it them!" he mentally exclaimed at these sounds, +and again proceeded to gallop along the line, penetrating farther +and farther into the region where the army was already in action. + +"How it will be there I don't know, but all will be well!" thought +Rostov. + +After passing some Austrian troops he noticed that the next part +of the line (the Guards) was already in action. + +"So much the better! I shall see it close," he thought. + +He was riding almost along the front line. A handful of men came +galloping toward him. They were our Uhlans who with disordered ranks +were returning from the attack. Rostov got out of their way, +involuntarily noticed that one of them was bleeding, and galloped on. + +"That is no business of mine," he thought. He had not ridden many +hundred yards after that before he saw to his left, across the whole +width of the field, an enormous mass of cavalry in brilliant white +uniforms, mounted on black horses, trotting straight toward him and +across his path. Rostov put his horse to full gallop to get out of the +way of these men, and he would have got clear had they continued at +the same speed, but they kept increasing their pace, so that some of +the horses were already galloping. Rostov heard the thud of their +hoofs and the jingle of their weapons and saw their horses, their +figures, and even their faces, more and more distinctly. They were our +Horse Guards, advancing to attack the French cavalry that was coming +to meet them. + +The Horse Guards were galloping, but still holding in their +horses. Rostov could already see their faces and heard the command: +"Charge!" shouted by an officer who was urging his thoroughbred to +full speed. Rostov, fearing to be crushed or swept into the attack +on the French, galloped along the front as hard as his horse could go, +but still was not in time to avoid them. + +The last of the Horse Guards, a huge pockmarked fellow, frowned +angrily on seeing Rostov before him, with whom he would inevitably +collide. This Guardsman would certainly have bowled Rostov and his +Bedouin over (Rostov felt himself quite tiny and weak compared to +these gigantic men and horses) had it not occurred to Rostov to +flourish his whip before the eyes of the Guardsman's horse. The +heavy black horse, sixteen hands high, shied, throwing back its +ears; but the pockmarked Guardsman drove his huge spurs in +violently, and the horse, flourishing its tail and extending its neck, +galloped on yet faster. Hardly had the Horse Guards passed Rostov +before he heard them shout, "Hurrah!" and looking back saw that +their foremost ranks were mixed up with some foreign cavalry with +red epaulets, probably French. He could see nothing more, for +immediately afterwards cannon began firing from somewhere and smoke +enveloped everything. + +At that moment, as the Horse Guards, having passed him, +disappeared in the smoke, Rostov hesitated whether to gallop after +them or to go where he was sent. This was the brilliant charge of +the Horse Guards that amazed the French themselves. Rostov was +horrified to hear later that of all that mass of huge and handsome +men, of all those brilliant, rich youths, officers and cadets, who had +galloped past him on their thousand-ruble horses, only eighteen were +left after the charge. + +"Why should I envy them? My chance is not lost, and maybe I shall +see the Emperor immediately! " thought Rostov and galloped on. + +When he came level with the Foot Guards he noticed that about them +and around them cannon balls were flying, of which he was aware not so +much because he heard their sound as because he saw uneasiness on +the soldiers' faces and unnatural warlike solemnity on those of the +officers. + +Passing behind one of the lines of a regiment of Foot Guards he +heard a voice calling him by name. + +"Rostov!" + +"What?" he answered, not recognizing Boris. + +"I say, we've been in the front line! Our regiment attacked!" said +Boris with the happy smile seen on the faces of young men who have +been under fire for the first time. + +Rostov stopped. + +"Have you?" he said. "Well, how did it go?" + +"We drove them back!" said Boris with animation, growing +talkative. "Can you imagine it?" and he began describing how the +Guards, having taken up their position and seeing troops before +them, thought they were Austrians, and all at once discovered from the +cannon balls discharged by those troops that they were themselves in +the front line and had unexpectedly to go into action. Rostov +without hearing Boris to the end spurred his horse. + +"Where are you off to?" asked Boris. + +"With a message to His Majesty." + +"There he is!" said Boris, thinking Rostov had said "His +Highness," and pointing to the Grand Duke who with his high +shoulders and frowning brows stood a hundred paces away from them in +his helmet and Horse Guards' jacket, shouting something to a pale, +white uniformed Austrian officer. + +"But that's the Grand Duke, and I want the commander in chief or the +Emperor," said Rostov, and was about to spur his horse. + +"Count! Count!" shouted Berg who ran up from the other side as eager +as Boris. "Count! I am wounded in my right hand" (and he showed his +bleeding hand with a handkerchief tied round it) "and I remained at +the front. I held my sword in my left hand, Count. All our family- the +von Bergs- have been knights!" + +He said something more, but Rostov did not wait to hear it and +rode away. + +Having passed the Guards and traversed an empty space, Rostov, to +avoid again getting in front of the first line as he had done when the +Horse Guards charged, followed the line of reserves, going far round +the place where the hottest musket fire and cannonade were heard. +Suddenly he heard musket fire quite close in front of him and behind +our troops, where he could never have expected the enemy to be. + +"What can it be?" he thought. "The enemy in the rear of our army? +Impossible!" And suddenly he was seized by a panic of fear for himself +and for the issue of the whole battle. "But be that what it may," he +reflected, "there is no riding round it now. I must look for the +commander in chief here, and if all is lost it is for me to perish +with the rest." + +The foreboding of evil that had suddenly come over Rostov was more +and more confirmed the farther he rode into the region behind the +village of Pratzen, which was full of troops of all kinds. + +"What does it mean? What is it? Whom are they firing at? Who is +firing?" Rostov kept asking as he came up to Russian and Austrian +soldiers running in confused crowds across his path. + +"The devil knows! They've killed everybody! It's all up now!" he was +told in Russian, German, and Czech by the crowd of fugitives who +understood what was happening as little as he did. + +"Kill the Germans!" shouted one. + +"May the devil take them- the traitors!" + +"Zum Henker diese Russen!"~^ muttered a German. + +^~ "Hang these Russians!" + +Several wounded men passed along the road, and words of abuse, +screams, and groans mingled in a general hubbub, then the firing +died down. Rostov learned later that Russian and Austrian soldiers had +been firing at one another. + +"My God! What does it all mean?" thought he. "And here, where at any +moment the Emperor may see them.... But no, these must be only a +handful of scoundrels. It will soon be over, it can't be that, it +can't be! Only to get past them quicker, quicker!" + +The idea of defeat and flight could not enter Rostov's head. +Though he saw French cannon and French troops on the Pratzen Heights +just where he had been ordered to look for the commander in chief, +he could not, did not wish to, believe that. + +CHAPTER XVIII + +Rostov had been ordered to look for Kutuzov and the Emperor near the +village of Pratzen. But neither they nor a single commanding officer +were there, only disorganized crowds of troops of various kinds. He +urged on his already weary horse to get quickly past these crowds, but +the farther he went the more disorganized they were. The highroad on +which he had come out was thronged with caleches, carriages of all +sorts, and Russian and Austrian soldiers of all arms, some wounded and +some not. This whole mass droned and jostled in confusion under the +dismal influence of cannon balls flying from the French batteries +stationed on the Pratzen Heights. + +"Where is the Emperor? Where is Kutuzov?" Rostov kept asking +everyone he could stop, but got no answer from anyone. + +At last seizing a soldier by his collar he forced him to answer. + +"Eh, brother! They've all bolted long ago!" said the soldier, +laughing for some reason and shaking himself free. + +Having left that soldier who was evidently drunk, Rostov stopped the +horse of a batman or groom of some important personage and began to +question him. The man announced that the Tsar had been driven in a +carriage at full speed about an hour before along that very road and +that he was dangerously wounded. + +"It can't be!" said Rostov. "It must have been someone else." + +"I saw him myself." replied the man with a self-confident smile of +derision. "I ought to know the Emperor by now, after the times I've +seen him in Petersburg. I saw him just as I see you.... There he sat +in the carriage as pale as anything. How they made the four black +horses fly! Gracious me, they did rattle past! It's time I knew the +Imperial horses and Ilya Ivanych. I don't think Ilya drives anyone +except the Tsar!" + +Rostov let go of the horse and was about to ride on, when a +wounded officer passing by addressed him: + +"Who is it you want?" he asked. "The commander in chief? He was +killed by a cannon ball- struck in the breast before our regiment." + +"Not killed- wounded!" another officer corrected him. + +"Who? Kutuzov?" asked Rostov. + +"Not Kutuzov, but what's his name- well, never mind... there are not +many left alive. Go that way, to that village, all the commanders +are there," said the officer, pointing to the village of Hosjeradek, +and he walked on. + +Rostov rode on at a footpace not knowing why or to whom he was now +going. The Emperor was wounded, the battle lost. It was impossible +to doubt it now. Rostov rode in the direction pointed out to him, in +which he saw turrets and a church. What need to hurry? What was he now +to say to the Tsar or to Kutuzov, even if they were alive and +unwounded? + +"Take this road, your honor, that way you will be killed at once!" a +soldier shouted to him. "They'd kill you there!" + +"Oh, what are you talking about?" said another. "Where is he to +go? That way is nearer." + +Rostov considered, and then went in the direction where they said he +would be killed. + +"It's all the same now. If the Emperor is wounded, am I to try to +save myself?" he thought. He rode on to the region where the +greatest number of men had perished in fleeing from Pratzen. The +French had not yet occupied that region, and the Russians- the +uninjured and slightly wounded- had left it long ago. All about the +field, like heaps of manure on well-kept plowland, lay from ten to +fifteen dead and wounded to each couple of acres. The wounded crept +together in twos and threes and one could hear their distressing +screams and groans, sometimes feigned- or so it seemed to Rostov. He +put his horse to a trot to avoid seeing all these suffering men, and +he felt afraid- afraid not for his life, but for the courage he needed +and which he knew would not stand the sight of these unfortunates. + +The French, who had ceased firing at this field strewn with dead and +wounded where there was no one left to fire at, on seeing an +adjutant riding over it trained a gun on him and fired several +shots. The sensation of those terrible whistling sounds and of the +corpses around him merged in Rostov's mind into a single feeling of +terror and pity for himself. He remembered his mother's last letter. +"What would she feel," thought he, "if she saw me here now on this +field with the cannon aimed at me?" + +In the village of Hosjeradek there were Russian troops retiring from +the field of battle, who though still in some confusion were less +disordered. The French cannon did not reach there and the musketry +fire sounded far away. Here everyone clearly saw and said that the +battle was lost. No one whom Rostov asked could tell him where the +Emperor or Kutuzov was. Some said the report that the Emperor was +wounded was correct, others that it was not, and explained the false +rumor that had spread by the fact that the Emperor's carriage had +really galloped from the field of battle with the pale and terrified +Ober-Hofmarschal Count Tolstoy, who had ridden out to the +battlefield with others in the Emperor's suite. One officer told +Rostov that he had seen someone from headquarters behind the village +to the left, and thither Rostov rode, not hoping to find anyone but +merely to ease his conscience. When he had ridden about two miles +and had passed the last of the Russian troops, he saw, near a +kitchen garden with a ditch round it, two men on horseback facing +the ditch. One with a white plume in his hat seemed familiar to +Rostov; the other on a beautiful chestnut horse (which Rostov +fancied he had seen before) rode up to the ditch, struck his horse +with his spurs, and giving it the rein leaped lightly over. Only a +little earth crumbled from the bank under the horse's hind hoofs. +Turning the horse sharply, he again jumped the ditch, and +deferentially addressed the horseman with the white plumes, +evidently suggesting that he should do the same. The rider, whose +figure seemed familiar to Rostov and involuntarily riveted his +attention, made a gesture of refusal with his head and hand and by +that gesture Rostov instantly recognized his lamented and adored +monarch. + +"But it can't be he, alone in the midst of this empty field!" +thought Rostov. At that moment Alexander turned his head and Rostov +saw the beloved features that were so deeply engraved on his memory. +The Emperor was pale, his cheeks sunken and his eyes hollow, but the +charm, the mildness of his features, was all the greater. Rostov was +happy in the assurance that the rumors about the Emperor being wounded +were false. He was happy to be seeing him. He knew that he might and +even ought to go straight to him and give the message Dolgorukov had +ordered him to deliver. + +But as a youth in love trembles, is unnerved, and dares not utter +the thoughts he has dreamed of for nights, but looks around for help +or a chance of delay and flight when the longed-for moment comes and +he is alone with her, so Rostov, now that he had attained what he +had longed for more than anything else in the world, did not know +how to approach the Emperor, and a thousand reasons occurred to him +why it would be inconvenient, unseemly, and impossible to do so. + +"What! It is as if I were glad of a chance to take advantage of +his being alone and despondent! A strange face may seem unpleasant +or painful to him at this moment of sorrow; besides, what can I say to +him now, when my heart fails me and my mouth feels dry at the mere +sight of him?" Not one of the innumerable speeches addressed to the +Emperor that he had composed in his imagination could he now recall. +Those speeches were intended for quite other conditions, they were for +the most part to be spoken at a moment of victory and triumph, +generally when he was dying of wounds and the sovereign had thanked +him for heroic deeds, and while dying he expressed the love his +actions had proved. + +"Besides how can I ask the Emperor for his instructions for the +right flank now that it is nearly four o'clock and the battle is lost? +No, certainly I must not approach him, I must not intrude on his +reflections. Better die a thousand times than risk receiving an unkind +look or bad opinion from him," Rostov decided; and sorrowfully and +with a heart full despair he rode away, continually looking back at +the Tsar, who still remained in the same attitude of indecision. + +While Rostov was thus arguing with himself and riding sadly away, +Captain von Toll chanced to ride to the same spot, and seeing the +Emperor at once rode up to him, offered his services, and assisted him +to cross the ditch on foot. The Emperor, wishing to rest and feeling +unwell, sat down under an apple tree and von Toll remained beside him. +Rostov from a distance saw with envy and remorse how von Toll spoke +long and warmly to the Emperor and how the Emperor, evidently weeping, +covered his eyes with his hand and pressed von Toll's hand. + +"And I might have been in his place!" thought Rostov, and hardly +restraining his tears of pity for the Emperor, he rode on in utter +despair, not knowing where to or why he was now riding. + +His despair was all the greater from feeling that his own weakness +was the cause his grief. + +He might... not only might but should, have gone up to the +sovereign. It was a unique chance to show his devotion to the +Emperor and he had not made use of it.... "What have I done?" +thought he. And he turned round and galloped back to the place where +he had seen the Emperor, but there was no one beyond the ditch now. +Only some carts and carriages were passing by. From one of the drivers +he learned that Kutuzov's staff were not far off, in the village the +vehicles were going to. Rostov followed them. In front of him walked +Kutuzov's groom leading horses in horsecloths. Then came a cart, and +behind that walked an old, bandy-legged domestic serf in a peaked +cap and sheepskin coat. + +"Tit! I say, Tit!" said the groom. + +"What?" answered the old man absent-mindedly. + +"Go, Tit! Thresh a bit!" + +"Oh, you fool!" said the old man, spitting angrily. Some time passed +in silence, and then the same joke was repeated. + +Before five in the evening the battle had been lost at all points. +More than a hundred cannon were already in the hands of the French. + +Przebyszewski and his corps had laid down their arms. Other +columns after losing half their men were retreating in disorderly +confused masses. + +The remains of Langeron's and Dokhturov's mingled forces were +crowding around the dams and banks of the ponds near the village of +Augesd. + +After five o'clock it was only at the Augesd Dam that a hot +cannonade (delivered by the French alone) was still to be heard from +numerous batteries ranged on the slopes of the Pratzen Heights, +directed at our retreating forces. + +In the rearguard, Dokhturov and others rallying some battalions kept +up a musketry fire at the French cavalry that was pursuing our troops. +It was growing dusk. On the narrow Augesd Dam where for so many +years the old miller had been accustomed to sit in his tasseled cap +peacefully angling, while his grandson, with shirt sleeves rolled +up, handled the floundering silvery fish in the watering can, on +that dam over which for so many years Moravians in shaggy caps and +blue jackets had peacefully driven their two-horse carts loaded with +wheat and had returned dusty with flour whitening their carts- on that +narrow dam amid the wagons and the cannon, under the horses' hoofs and +between the wagon wheels, men disfigured by fear of death now +crowded together, crushing one another, dying, stepping over the dying +and killing one another, only to move on a few steps and be killed +themselves in the same way. + +Every ten seconds a cannon ball flew compressing the air around, +or a shell burst in the midst of that dense throng, killing some and +splashing with blood those near them. + +Dolokhov- now an officer- wounded in the arm, and on foot, with +the regimental commander on horseback and some ten men of his company, +represented all that was left of that whole regiment. Impelled by +the crowd, they had got wedged in at the approach to the dam and, +jammed in on all sides, had stopped because a horse in front had +fallen under a cannon and the crowd were dragging it out. A cannon +ball killed someone behind them, another fell in front and splashed +Dolokhov with blood. The crowd, pushing forward desperately, +squeezed together, moved a few steps, and again stopped. + +"Move on a hundred yards and we are certainly saved, remain here +another two minutes and it is certain death," thought each one. + +Dolokhov who was in the midst of the crowd forced his way to the +edge of the dam, throwing two soldiers off their feet, and ran onto +the slippery ice that covered the millpool. + +"Turn this way!" he shouted, jumping over the ice which creaked +under him; "turn this way!" he shouted to those with the gun. "It +bears!..." + +The ice bore him but it swayed and creaked, and it was plain that it +would give way not only under a cannon or a crowd, but very soon +even under his weight alone. The men looked at him and pressed to +the bank, hesitating to step onto the ice. The general on horseback at +the entrance to the dam raised his hand and opened his mouth to +address Dolokhov. Suddenly a cannon ball hissed so low above the crowd +that everyone ducked. It flopped into something moist, and the general +fell from his horse in a pool of blood. Nobody gave him a look or +thought of raising him. + +"Get onto the ice, over the ice! Go on! Turn! Don't you hear? Go +on!" innumerable voices suddenly shouted after the ball had struck the +general, the men themselves not knowing what, or why, they were +shouting. + +One of the hindmost guns that was going onto the dam turned off onto +the ice. Crowds of soldiers from the dam began running onto the frozen +pond. The ice gave way under one of the foremost soldiers, and one leg +slipped into the water. He tried to right himself but fell in up to +his waist. The nearest soldiers shrank back, the gun driver stopped +his horse, but from behind still came the shouts: "Onto the ice, why +do you stop? Go on! Go on!" And cries of horror were heard in the +crowd. The soldiers near the gun waved their arms and beat the +horses to make them turn and move on. The horses moved off the bank. +The ice, that had held under those on foot, collapsed in a great mass, +and some forty men who were on it dashed, some forward and some +back, drowning one another. + +Still the cannon balls continued regularly to whistle and flop +onto the ice and into the water and oftenest of all among the crowd +that covered the dam, the pond, and the bank. + +CHAPTER XIX + +On the Pratzen Heights, where he had fallen with the flagstaff in +his hand, lay Prince Andrew Bolkonski bleeding profusely and +unconsciously uttering a gentle, piteous, and childlike moan. + +Toward evening he ceased moaning and became quite still. He did +not know how long his unconsciousness lasted. Suddenly he again felt +that he was alive and suffering from a burning, lacerating pain in his +head. + +"Where is it, that lofty sky that I did not know till now, but saw +today?" was his first thought. "And I did not know this suffering +either," he thought. "Yes, I did not know anything, anything at all +till now. But where am I?" + +He listened and heard the sound of approaching horses, and voices +speaking French. He opened his eyes. Above him again was the same +lofty sky with clouds that had risen and were floating still higher, +and between them gleamed blue infinity. He did not turn his head and +did not see those who, judging by the sound of hoofs and voices, had +ridden up and stopped near him. + +It was Napoleon accompanied by two aides-de-camp. Bonaparte riding +over the battlefield had given final orders to strengthen the +batteries firing at the Augesd Dam and was looking at the killed and +wounded left on the field. + +"Fine men!" remarked Napoleon, looking at a dead Russian +grenadier, who, with his face buried in the ground and a blackened +nape, lay on his stomach with an already stiffened arm flung wide. + +"The ammunition for the guns in position is exhausted, Your +Majesty," said an adjutant who had come from the batteries that were +firing at Augesd. + +"Have some brought from the reserve," said Napoleon, and having gone +on a few steps he stopped before Prince Andrew, who lay on his back +with the flagstaff that had been dropped beside him. (The flag had +already been taken by the French as a trophy.) + +"That's a fine death!" said Napoleon as he gazed at Bolkonski. + +Prince Andrew understood that this was said of him and that it was +Napoleon who said it. He heard the speaker addressed as Sire. But he +heard the words as he might have heard the buzzing of a fly. Not +only did they not interest him, but he took no notice of them and at +once forgot them. His head was burning, he felt himself bleeding to +death, and he saw above him the remote, lofty, and everlasting sky. He +knew it was Napoleon- his hero- but at that moment Napoleon seemed +to him such a small, insignificant creature compared with what was +passing now between himself and that lofty infinite sky with the +clouds flying over it. At that moment it meant nothing to him who +might be standing over him, or what was said of him; he was only +glad that people were standing near him and only wished that they +would help him and bring him back to life, which seemed to him so +beautiful now that he had today learned to understand it so +differently. He collected all his strength, to stir and utter a sound. +He feebly moved his leg and uttered a weak, sickly groan which aroused +his own pity. + +"Ah! He is alive," said Napoleon. "Lift this young man up and +carry him to the dressing station." + +Having said this, Napoleon rode on to meet Marshal Lannes, who, +hat in hand, rode up smiling to the Emperor to congratulate him on the +victory. + +Prince Andrew remembered nothing more: he lost consciousness from +the terrible pain of being lifted onto the stretcher, the jolting +while being moved, and the probing of his wound at the dressing +station. He did not regain consciousness till late in the day, when +with other wounded and captured Russian officers he was carried to the +hospital. During this transfer he felt a little stronger and was +able to look about him and even speak. + +The first words he heard on coming to his senses were those of a +French convoy officer, who said rapidly: "We must halt here: the +Emperor will pass here immediately; it will please him to see these +gentlemen prisoners." + +"There are so many prisoners today, nearly the whole Russian army, +that he is probably tired of them," said another officer. + +"All the same! They say this one is the commander of all the Emperor +Alexander's Guards," said the first one, indicating a Russian +officer in the white uniform of the Horse Guards. + +Bolkonski recognized Prince Repnin whom he had met in Petersburg +society. Beside him stood a lad of nineteen, also a wounded officer of +the Horse Guards. + +Bonaparte, having come up at a gallop, stopped his horse. + +"Which is the senior?" he asked, on seeing the prisoners. + +They named the colonel, Prince Repnin. + +"You are the commander of the Emperor Alexander's regiment of +Horse Guards?" asked Napoleon. + +"I commanded a squadron," replied Repnin. + +"Your regiment fulfilled its duty honorably," said Napoleon. + +"The praise of a great commander is a soldier's highest reward," +said Repnin. + +"I bestow it with pleasure," said Napoleon. "And who is that young +man beside you?" + +Prince Repnin named Lieutenant Sukhtelen. + +After looking at him Napoleon smiled. + +"He's very young to come to meddle with us." + +"Youth is no hindrance to courage," muttered Sukhtelen in a +failing voice. + +"A splendid reply!" said Napoleon. "Young man, you will go far!" + +Prince Andrew, who had also been brought forward before the +Emperor's eyes to complete the show of prisoners, could not fail to +attract his attention. Napoleon apparently remembered seeing him on +the battlefield and, addressing him, again used the epithet "young +man" that was connected in his memory with Prince Andrew. + +"Well, and you, young man," said he. "How do you feel, mon brave?" + +Though five minutes before, Prince Andrew had been able to say a few +words to the soldiers who were carrying him, now with his eyes fixed +straight on Napoleon, he was silent.... So insignificant at that +moment seemed to him all the interests that engrossed Napoleon, so +mean did his hero himself with his paltry vanity and joy in victory +appear, compared to the lofty, equitable, and kindly sky which he +had seen and understood, that he could not answer him. + +Everything seemed so futile and insignificant in comparison with the +stern and solemn train of thought that weakness from loss of blood, +suffering, and the nearness of death aroused in him. Looking into +Napoleon's eyes Prince Andrew thought of the insignificance of +greatness, the unimportance of life which no one could understand, and +the still greater unimportance of death, the meaning of which no one +alive could understand or explain. + +The Emperor without waiting for an answer turned away and said to +one of the officers as he went: "Have these gentlemen attended to +and taken to my bivouac; let my doctor, Larrey, examine their +wounds. Au revoir, Prince Repnin!" and he spurred his horse and +galloped away. + +His face shone with self-satisfaction and pleasure. + +The soldiers who had carried Prince Andrew had noticed and taken the +little gold icon Princess Mary had hung round her brother's neck, +but seeing the favor the Emperor showed the prisoners, they now +hastened to return the holy image. + +Prince Andrew did not see how and by whom it was replaced, but the +little icon with its thin gold chain suddenly appeared upon his +chest outside his uniform. + +"It would be good," thought Prince Andrew, glancing at the icon +his sister had hung round his neck with such emotion and reverence, +"it would be good if everything were as clear and simple as it seems +to Mary. How good it would be to know where to seek for help in this +life, and what to expect after it beyond the grave! How happy and calm +I should be if I could now say: 'Lord, have mercy on me!'... But to +whom should I say that? Either to a Power indefinable, +incomprehensible, which I not only cannot address but which I cannot +even express in words- the Great All or Nothing-" said he to +himself, "or to that God who has been sewn into this amulet by Mary! +There is nothing certain, nothing at all except the unimportance of +everything I understand, and the greatness of something +incomprehensible but all-important. + +The stretchers moved on. At every jolt he again felt unendurable +pain; his feverishness increased and he grew delirious. Visions of his +father, wife, sister, and future son, and the tenderness he had felt +the night before the battle, the figure of the insignificant little +Napoleon, and above all this the lofty sky, formed the chief +subjects of his delirious fancies. + +The quiet home life and peaceful happiness of Bald Hills presented +itself to him. He was already enjoying that happiness when that little +Napoleon had suddenly appeared with his unsympathizing look of +shortsighted delight at the misery of others, and doubts and +torments had followed, and only the heavens promised peace. Toward +morning all these dreams melted and merged into the chaos and darkness +of unconciousness and oblivion which in the opinion of Napoleon's +doctor, Larrey, was much more likely to end in death than in +convalescence. + +"He is a nervous, bilious subject," said Larrey, "and will not +recover." + +And Prince Andrew, with others fatally wounded, was left to the care +of the inhabitants of the district. + +BOOK FOUR: 1806 + +CHAPTER I + +Early in the year 1806 Nicholas Rostov returned home on leave. +Denisov was going home to Voronezh and Rostov persuaded him to +travel with him as far as Moscow and to stay with him there. Meeting a +comrade at the last post station but one before Moscow, Denisov had +drunk three bottles of wine with him and, despite the jolting ruts +across the snow-covered road, did not once wake up on the way to +Moscow, but lay at the bottom of the sleigh beside Rostov, who grew +more and more impatient the nearer they got to Moscow. + +"How much longer? How much longer? Oh, these insufferable streets, +shops, bakers' signboards, street lamps, and sleighs!" thought Rostov, +when their leave permits had been passed at the town gate and they had +entered Moscow. + +"Denisov! We're here! He's asleep," he added, leaning forward with +his whole body as if in that position he hoped to hasten the speed +of the sleigh. + +Denisov gave no answer. + +"There's the corner at the crossroads, where the cabman, Zakhar, has +his stand, and there's Zakhar himself and still the same horse! And +here's the little shop where we used to buy gingerbread! Can't you +hurry up? Now then!" + +"Which house is it?" asked the driver. + +"Why, that one, right at the end, the big one. Don't you see? That's +our house," said Rostov. "Of course, it's our house! Denisov, Denisov! +We're almost there!" + +Denisov raised his head, coughed, and made no answer. + +"Dmitri," said Rostov to his valet on the box, "those lights are +in our house, aren't they?" + +"Yes, sir, and there's a light in your father's study." + +"Then they've not gone to bed yet? What do you think? Mind now, +don't forget to put out my new coat," added Rostov, fingering his +new mustache. "Now then, get on," he shouted to the driver. "Do wake +up, Vaska!" he went on, turning to Denisov, whose head was again +nodding. "Come, get on! You shall have three rubles for vodka- get +on!" Rostov shouted, when the sleigh was only three houses from his +door. It seemed to him the horses were not moving at all. At last +the sleigh bore to the right, drew up at an entrance, and Rostov saw +overhead the old familiar cornice with a bit of plaster broken off, +the porch, and the post by the side of the pavement. He sprang out +before the sleigh stopped, and ran into the hall. The house stood cold +and silent, as if quite regardless of who had come to it. There was no +one in the hall. "Oh God! Is everyone all right?" he thought, stopping +for a moment with a sinking heart, and then immediately starting to +run along the hall and up the warped steps of the familiar +staircase. The well-known old door handle, which always angered the +countess when it was not properly cleaned, turned as loosely as +ever. A solitary tallow candle burned in the anteroom. + +Old Michael was asleep on the chest. Prokofy, the footman, who was +so strong that he could lift the back of the carriage from behind, sat +plaiting slippers out of cloth selvedges. He looked up at the +opening door and his expression of sleepy indifference suddenly +changed to one of delighted amazement. + +"Gracious heavens! The young count!" he cried, recognizing his young +master. "Can it be? My treasure!" and Prokofy, trembling with +excitement, rushed toward the drawing-room door, probably in order +to announce him, but, changing his mind, came back and stooped to kiss +the young man's shoulder. + +"All well?" asked Rostov, drawing away his arm. + +"Yes, God be thanked! Yes! They've just finished supper. Let me have +a look at you, your excellency." + +"Is everything quite all right?" + +"The Lord be thanked, yes!" + +Rostov, who had completely forgotten Denisov, not wishing anyone +to forestall him, threw off his fur coat and ran on tiptoe through the +large dark ballroom. All was the same: there were the same old card +tables and the same chandelier with a cover over it; but someone had +already seen the young master, and, before he had reached the +drawing room, something flew out from a side door like a tornado and +began hugging and kissing him. Another and yet another creature of the +same kind sprang from a second door and a third; more hugging, more +kissing, more outcries, and tears of joy. He could not distinguish +which was Papa, which Natasha, and which Petya. Everyone shouted, +talked, and kissed him at the same time. Only his mother was not +there, he noticed that. + +"And I did not know... Nicholas... My darling!..." + +"Here he is... our own... Kolya,~^ dear fellow... How he has +changed!... Where are the candles?... Tea!..." + +^~ Nicholas. + +"And me, kiss me!" + +"Dearest... and me!" + +Sonya, Natasha, Petya, Anna Mikhaylovna, Vera, and the old count +were all hugging him, and the serfs, men and maids, flocked into the +room, exclaiming and oh-ing and ah-ing. + +Petya, clinging to his legs, kept shouting, "And me too!" + +Natasha, after she had pulled him down toward her and covered his +face with kisses, holding him tight by the skirt of his coat, sprang +away and pranced up and down in one place like a goat and shrieked +piercingly. + +All around were loving eyes glistening with tears of joy, and all +around were lips seeking a kiss. + +Sonya too, all rosy red, clung to his arm and, radiant with bliss, +looked eagerly toward his eyes, waiting for the look for which she +longed. Sonya now was sixteen and she was very pretty, especially at +this moment of happy, rapturous excitement. She gazed at him, not +taking her eyes off him, and smiling and holding her breath. He gave +her a grateful look, but was still expectant and looking for +someone. The old countess had not yet come. But now steps were heard +at the door, steps so rapid that they could hardly be his mother's. + +Yet it was she, dressed in a new gown which he did not know, made +since he had left. All the others let him go, and he ran to her. +When they met, she fell on his breast, sobbing. She could not lift her +face, but only pressed it to the cold braiding of his hussar's jacket. +Denisov, who had come into the room unnoticed by anyone, stood there +and wiped his eyes at the sight. + +"Vasili Denisov, your son's friend," he said, introducing himself to +the count, who was looking inquiringly at him. + +"You are most welcome! I know, I know," said the count, kissing +and embracing Denisov. "Nicholas wrote us... Natasha, Vera, look! Here +is Denisov!" + +The same happy, rapturous faces turned to the shaggy figure of +Denisov. + +"Darling Denisov!" screamed Natasha, beside herself with rapture, +springing to him, putting her arms round him, and kissing him. This +escapade made everybody feel confused. Denisov blushed too, but smiled +and, taking Natasha's hand, kissed it. + +Denisov was shown to the room prepared for him, and the Rostovs +all gathered round Nicholas in the sitting room. + +The old countess, not letting go of his hand and kissing it every +moment, sat beside him: the rest, crowding round him, watched every +movement, word, or look of his, never taking their blissfully +adoring eyes off him. His brother and sisters struggled for the places +nearest to him and disputed with one another who should bring him +his tea, handkerchief, and pipe. + +Rostov was very happy in the love they showed him; but the first +moment of meeting had been so beatific that his present joy seemed +insufficient, and he kept expecting something more, more and yet more. + +Next morning, after the fatigues of their journey, the travelers +slept till ten o'clock. + +In the room next their bedroom there was a confusion of sabers, +satchels, sabretaches, open portmanteaus, and dirty boots. Two freshly +cleaned pairs with spurs had just been placed by the wall. The +servants were bringing in jugs and basins, hot water for shaving, +and their well-brushed clothes. There was a masculine odor and a smell +of tobacco. + +"Hallo, Gwiska- my pipe!" came Vasili Denisov's husky voice. +"Wostov, get up!" + +Rostov, rubbing his eyes that seemed glued together, raised his +disheveled head from the hot pillow. + +"Why, is it late?" + +"Late! It's nearly ten o'clock," answered Natasha's voice. A +rustle of starched petticoats and the whispering and laughter of +girls' voices came from the adjoining room. The door was opened a +crack and there was a glimpse of something blue, of ribbons, black +hair, and merry faces. It was Natasha, Sonya, and Petya, who had +come to see whether they were getting up. + +"Nicholas! Get up!" Natasha's voice was again heard at the door. + +"Directly!" + +Meanwhile, Petya, having found and seized the sabers in the outer +room, with the delight boys feel at the sight of a military elder +brother, and forgetting that it was unbecoming for the girls to see +men undressed, opened the bedroom door. + +"Is this your saber?" he shouted. + +The girls sprang aside. Denisov hid his hairy legs under the +blanket, looking with a scared face at his comrade for help. The door, +having let Petya in, closed again. A sound of laughter came from +behind it. + +"Nicholas! Come out in your dressing gown!" said Natasha's voice. + +"Is this your saber?" asked Petya. "Or is it yours?" he said, +addressing the black-mustached Denisov with servile deference. + +Rostov hurriedly put something on his feet, drew on his dressing +gown, and went out. Natasha had put on one spurred boot and was just +getting her foot into the other. Sonya, when he came in, was +twirling round and was about to expand her dresses into a balloon +and sit down. They were dressed alike, in new pale-blue frocks, and +were both fresh, rosy, and bright. Sonya ran away, but Natasha, taking +her brother's arm, led him into the sitting room, where they began +talking. They hardly gave one another time to ask questions and give +replies concerning a thousand little matters which could not +interest anyone but themselves. Natasha laughed at every word he +said or that she said herself, not because what they were saying was +amusing, but because she felt happy and was unable to control her +joy which expressed itself by laughter. + +"Oh, how nice, how splendid!" she said to everything. + +Rostov felt that, under the influence of the warm rays of love, that +childlike smile which had not once appeared on his face since he +left home now for the first time after eighteen months again +brightened his soul and his face. + +"No, but listen," she said, "now you are quite a man, aren't you? +I'm awfully glad you're my brother." She touched his mustache. "I want +to know what you men are like. Are you the same as we? No?" + +"Why did Sonya run away?" asked Rostov. + +"Ah, yes! That's a whole long story! How are you going to speak to +her- thou or you?" + +"As may happen," said Rostov. + +"No, call her you, please! I'll tell you all about it some other +time. No, I'll tell you now. You know Sonya's my dearest friend. +Such a friend that I burned my arm for her sake. Look here!" + +She pulled up her muslin sleeve and showed him a red scar on her +long, slender, delicate arm, high above the elbow on that part that is +covered even by a ball dress. + +"I burned this to prove my love for her. I just heated a ruler in +the fire and pressed it there!" + +Sitting on the sofa with the little cushions on its arms, in what +used to be his old schoolroom, and looking into Natasha's wildly +bright eyes, Rostov re-entered that world of home and childhood +which had no meaning for anyone else, but gave him some of the best +joys of his life; and the burning of an arm with a ruler as a proof of +love did not seem to him senseless, he understood and was not +surprised at it. + +"Well, and is that all?" he asked. + +"We are such friends, such friends! All that ruler business was just +nonsense, but we are friends forever. She, if she loves anyone, does +it for life, but I don't understand that, I forget quickly." + +"Well, what then?" + +"Well, she loves me and you like that." + +Natasha suddenly flushed. + +"Why, you remember before you went away?... Well, she says you are +to forget all that.... She says: 'I shall love him always, but let him +be free.' Isn't that lovely and noble! Yes, very noble? Isn't it?" +asked Natasha, so seriously and excitedly that it was evident that +what she was now saying she had talked of before, with tears. + +Rostov became thoughtful. + +"I never go back on my word," he said. "Besides, Sonya is so +charming that only a fool would renounce such happiness." + +"No, no!" cried Natasha, "she and I have already talked it over. +We knew you'd say so. But it won't do, because you see, if you say +that- if you consider yourself bound by your promise- it will seem +as if she had not meant it seriously. It makes it as if you were +marrying her because you must, and that wouldn't do at all." + +Rostov saw that it had been well considered by them. Sonya had +already struck him by her beauty on the preceding day. Today, when +he had caught a glimpse of her, she seemed still more lovely. She +was a charming girl of sixteen, evidently passionately in love with +him (he did not doubt that for an instant). Why should he not love her +now, and even marry her, Rostov thought, but just now there were so +many other pleasures and interests before him! "Yes, they have taken a +wise decision," he thought, "I must remain free." + +"Well then, that's excellent," said he. "We'll talk it over later +on. Oh, how glad I am to have you! + +"Well, and are you still true to Boris?" he continued. + +"Oh, what nonsense!" cried Natasha, laughing. "I don't think about +him or anyone else, and I don't want anything of the kind." + +"Dear me! Then what are you up now?" + +"Now?" repeated Natasha, and a happy smile lit up her face. "Have +you seen Duport?" + +"No." + +"Not seen Duport- the famous dancer? Well then, you won't +understand. That's what I'm up to." + +Curving her arms, Natasha held out her skirts as dancers do, ran +back a few steps, turned, cut a caper, brought her little feet sharply +together, and made some steps on the very tips of her toes. + +"See, I'm standing! See!" she said, but could not maintain herself +on her toes any longer. "So that's what I'm up to! I'll never marry +anyone, but will be a dancer. Only don't tell anyone." + +Rostov laughed so loud and merrily that Denisov, in his bedroom, +felt envious and Natasha could not help joining in. + +"No, but don't you think it's nice?" she kept repeating. + +"Nice! And so you no longer wish to marry Boris?" + +Natasha flared up. "I don't want to marry anyone. And I'll tell +him so when I see him!" + +"Dear me!" said Rostov. + +"But that's all rubbish," Natasha chattered on. "And is Denisov +nice?" she asked. + +"Yes, indeed!" + +"Oh, well then, good-by: go and dress. Is he very terrible, +Denisov?" + +"Why terrible?" asked Nicholas. "No, Vaska is a splendid fellow." + +"You call him Vaska? That's funny! And is he very nice?" + +"Very." + +"Well then, be quick. We'll all have breakfast together." + +And Natasha rose and went out of the room on tiptoe, like a ballet +dancer, but smiling as only happy girls of fifteen can smile. When +Rostov met Sonya in the drawing room, he reddened. He did not know how +to behave with her. The evening before, in the first happy moment of +meeting, they had kissed each other, but today they felt it could +not be done; he felt that everybody, including his mother and sisters, +was looking inquiringly at him and watching to see how he would behave +with her. He kissed her hand and addressed her not as thou but as you- +Sonya. But their eyes met and said thou, and exchanged tender +kisses. Her looks asked him to forgive her for having dared, by +Natasha's intermediacy, to remind him of his promise, and then thanked +him for his love. His looks thanked her for offering him his freedom +and told her that one way or another he would never cease to love her, +for that would be impossible. + +"How strange it is," said Vera, selecting a moment when all were +silent, "that Sonya and Nicholas now say you to one another and meet +like strangers." + +Vera's remark was correct, as her remarks always were, but, like +most of her observations, it made everyone feel uncomfortable, not +only Sonya, Nicholas, and Natasha, but even the old countess, who- +dreading this love affair which might hinder Nicholas from making a +brilliant match- blushed like a girl. + +Denisov, to Rostov's surprise, appeared in the drawing room with +pomaded hair, perfumed, and in a new uniform, looking just as smart as +he made himself when going into battle, and he was more amiable to the +ladies and gentlemen than Rostov had ever expected to see him. + +CHAPTER II + +On his return to Moscow from the army, Nicholas Rostov was +welcomed by his home circle as the best of sons, a hero, and their +darling Nikolenka; by his relations as a charming, attractive, and +polite young man; by his acquaintances as a handsome lieutenant of +hussars, a good dancer, and one of the best matches in the city. + +The Rostovs knew everybody in Moscow. The old count had money enough +that year, as all his estates had been remortgaged, and so Nicholas, +acquiring a trotter of his own, very stylish riding breeches of the +latest cut, such as no one else yet had in Moscow, and boots of the +latest fashion, with extremely pointed toes and small silver spurs, +passed his time very gaily. After a short period of adapting himself +to the old conditions of life, Nicholas found it very pleasant to be +at home again. He felt that he had grown up and matured very much. His +despair at failing in a Scripture examination, his borrowing money +from Gavril to pay a sleigh driver, his kissing Sonya on the sly- he +now recalled all this as childishness he had left immeasurably behind. +Now he was a lieutenant of hussars, in a jacket laced with silver, and +wearing the Cross of St. George, awarded to soldiers for bravery in +action, and in the company of well-known, elderly, and respected +racing men was training a trotter of his own for a race. He knew a +lady on one of the boulevards whom he visited of an evening. He led +the mazurka at the Arkharovs' ball, talked about the war with Field +Marshal Kamenski, visited the English Club, and was on intimate +terms with a colonel of forty to whom Denisov had introduced + +His passion for the Emperor had cooled somewhat in Moscow. But +still, as he did not see him and had no opportunity of seeing him, +he often spoke about him and about his love for him, letting it be +understood that he had not told all and that there was something in +his feelings for the Emperor not everyone could understand, and with +his whole soul he shared the adoration then common in Moscow for the +Emperor, who was spoken of as the "angel incarnate." + +During Rostov's short stay in Moscow, before rejoining the army, +he did not draw closer to Sonya, but rather drifted away from her. She +was very pretty and sweet, and evidently deeply in love with him, +but he was at the period of youth when there seems so much to do +that there is no time for that sort of thing and a young man fears +to bind himself and prizes his freedom which he needs for so many +other things. When he thought of Sonya, during this stay in Moscow, he +said to himself, "Ah, there will be, and there are, many more such +girls somewhere whom I do not yet know. There will be time enough to +think about love when I want to, but now I have no time." Besides, +it seemed to him that the society of women was rather derogatory to +his manhood. He went to balls and into ladies' society with an +affectation of doing so against his will. The races, the English Club, +sprees with Denisov, and visits to a certain house- that was another +matter and quite the thing for a dashing young hussar! + +At the beginning of March, old Count Ilya Rostov was very busy +arranging a dinner in honor of Prince Bagration at the English Club. + +The count walked up and down the hall in his dressing gown, giving +orders to the club steward and to the famous Feoktist, the Club's head +cook, about asparagus, fresh cucumbers, strawberries, veal, and fish +for this dinner. The count had been a member and on the committee of +the Club from the day it was founded. To him the Club entrusted the +arrangement of the festival in honor of Bagration, for few men knew so +well how to arrange a feast on an open-handed, hospitable scale, and +still fewer men would be so well able and willing to make up out of +their own resources what might be needed for the success of the +fete. The club cook and the steward listened to the count's orders +with pleased faces, for they knew that under no other management could +they so easily extract a good profit for themselves from a dinner +costing several thousand rubles. + +"Well then, mind and have cocks' comb in the turtle soup, you know!" + +"Shall we have three cold dishes then?" asked the cook. + +The count considered. + +"We can't have less- yes, three... the mayonnaise, that's one," said +he, bending down a finger. + +"Then am I to order those large sterlets?" asked the steward. + +"Yes, it can't be helped if they won't take less. Ah, dear me! I was +forgetting. We must have another entree. Ah, goodness gracious!" he +clutched at his head. "Who is going to get me the flowers? Dmitri! Eh, +Dmitri! Gallop off to our Moscow estate," he said to the factotum +who appeared at his call. "Hurry off and tell Maksim, the gardener, to +set the serfs to work. Say that everything out of the hothouses must +be brought here well wrapped up in felt. I must have two hundred +pots here on Friday." + +Having given several more orders, he was about to go to his +"little countess" to have a rest, but remembering something else of +importance, he returned again, called back the cook and the club +steward, and again began giving orders. A light footstep and the +clinking of spurs were heard at the door, and the young count, +handsome, rosy, with a dark little mustache, evidently rested and made +sleeker by his easy life in Moscow, entered the room. + +"Ah, my boy, my head's in a whirl!" said the old man with a smile, +as if he felt a little confused before his son. "Now, if you would +only help a bit! I must have singers too. I shall have my own +orchestra, but shouldn't we get the gypsy singers as well? You +military men like that sort of thing." + +"Really, Papa, I believe Prince Bagration worried himself less +before the battle of Schon Grabern than you do now," said his son with +a smile. + +The old count pretended to be angry. + +"Yes, you talk, but try it yourself!" + +And the count turned to the cook, who, with a shrewd and +respectful expression, looked observantly and sympathetically at the +father and son. + +"What have the young people come to nowadays, eh, Feoktist?" said +he. "Laughing at us old fellows!" + +"That's so, your excellency, all they have to do is to eat a good +dinner, but providing it and serving it all up, that's not their +business! + +"That's it, that's it!" exclaimed the count, and gaily seizing his +son by both hands, he cried, "Now I've got you, so take the sleigh and +pair at once, and go to Bezukhob's, and tell him 'Count Ilya has +sent you to ask for strawberries and fresh pineapples.' We can't get +them from anyone else. He's not there himself, so you'll have to go in +and ask the princesses; and from there go on to the Rasgulyay- the +coachman Ipatka knows- and look up the gypsy Ilyushka, the one who +danced at Count Orlov's, you remember, in a white Cossack coat, and +bring him along to me." + +"And am I to bring the gypsy girls along with him?" asked +Nicholas, laughing. "Dear, dear!..." + +At that moment, with noiseless footsteps and with the +businesslike, preoccupied, yet meekly Christian look which never +left her face, Anna Mikhaylovna entered the hall. Though she came upon +the count in his dressing gown every day, he invariably became +confused and begged her to excuse his costume. + +"No matter at all, my dear count," she said, meekly closing her +eyes. "But I'll go to Bezukhov's myself. Pierre has arrived, and now +we shall get anything we want from his hothouses. I have to see him in +any case. He has forwarded me a letter from Boris. Thank God, Boris is +now on the staff." + +The count was delighted at Anna Mikhaylovna's taking upon herself +one of his commissions and ordered the small closed carriage for her. + +"Tell Bezukhov to come. I'll put his name down. Is his wife with +him?" he asked. + +Anna Mikhaylovna turned up her eyes, and profound sadness was +depicted on her face. + +"Ah, my dear friend, he is very unfortunate," she said. "If what +we hear is true, it is dreadful. How little we dreamed of such a thing +when we were rejoicing at his happiness! And such a lofty angelic soul +as young Bezukhov! Yes, I pity him from my heart, and shall try to +give him what consolation I can." + +"Wh-what is the matter?" asked both the young and old Rostov. + +Anna Mikhaylovna sighed deeply. + +"Dolokhov, Mary Ivanovna's son," she said in a mysterious whisper, +"has compromised her completely, they say. Pierre took him up, invited +him to his house in Petersburg, and now... she has come here and +that daredevil after her!" said Anna Mikhaylovna, wishing to show +her sympathy for Pierre, but by involuntary intonations and a half +smile betraying her sympathy for the "daredevil," as she called +Dolokhov. "They say Pierre is quite broken by his misfortune." + +"Dear, dear! But still tell him to come to the Club- it will all +blow over. It will be a tremendous banquet." + +Next day, the third of March, soon after one o'clock, two hundred +and fifty members of the English Club and fifty guests were awaiting +the guest of honor and hero of the Austrian campaign, Prince +Bagration, to dinner. + +On the first arrival of the news of the battle of Austerlitz, Moscow +had been bewildered. At that time, the Russians were so used to +victories that on receiving news of the defeat some would simply not +believe it, while others sought some extraordinary explanation of so +strange an event. In the English Club, where all who were +distinguished, important, and well informed forgathered when the +news began to arrive in December, nothing was said about the war and +the last battle, as though all were in a conspiracy of silence. The +men who set the tone in conversation- Count Rostopchin, Prince Yuri +Dolgorukov, Valuev, Count Markov, and Prince Vyazemski- did not show +themselves at the Club, but met in private houses in intimate circles, +and the Moscovites who took their opinions from others- Ilya Rostov +among them- remained for a while without any definite opinion on the +subject of the war and without leaders. The Moscovites felt that +something was wrong and that to discuss the bad news was difficult, +and so it was best to be silent. But after a while, just as a jury +comes out of its room, the bigwigs who guided the Club's opinion +reappeared, and everybody began speaking clearly and definitely. +Reasons were found for the incredible, unheard-of, and impossible +event of a Russian defeat, everything became clear, and in all corners +of Moscow the same things began to be said. These reasons were the +treachery of the Austrians, a defective commissariat, the treachery of +the Pole Przebyszewski and of the Frenchman Langeron, Kutuzov's +incapacity, and (it was whispered) the youth and inexperience of the +sovereign, who had trusted worthless and insignificant people. But the +army, the Russian army, everyone declared, was extraordinary and had +achieved miracles of valor.The soldiers, officers, and generals were +heroes. But the hero of heroes was Prince Bagration, distinguished +by his Schon Grabern affair and by the retreat from Austerlitz, +where he alone had withdrawn his column unbroken and had all day +beaten back an enemy force twice as numerous as his own. What also +conduced to Bagration's being selected as Moscow's hero was the fact +that he had no connections in the city and was a stranger there. In +his person, honor was shown to a simple fighting Russian soldier +without connections and intrigues, and to one who was associated by +memories of the Italian campaign with the name of Suvorov. Moreover, +paying such honor to Bagration was the best way of expressing +disapproval and dislike of Kutuzov. + +"Had there been no Bagration, it would have been necessary to invent +him," said the wit Shinshin, parodying the words of Voltaire. +Kutuzov no one spoke of, except some who abused him in whispers, +calling him a court weathercock and an old satyr. + +All Moscow repeated Prince Dolgorukov's saying: "If you go on +modeling and modeling you must get smeared with clay," suggesting +consolation for our defeat by the memory of former victories; and +the words of Rostopchin, that French soldiers have to be incited to +battle by highfalutin words, and Germans by logical arguments to +show them that it is more dangerous to run away than to advance, but +that Russian soldiers only need to be restrained and held back! On all +sides, new and fresh anecdotes were heard of individual examples of +heroism shown by our officers and men at Austerlitz. One had saved a +standard, another had killed five Frenchmen, a third had loaded five +cannon singlehanded. Berg was mentioned, by those who did not know +him, as having, when wounded in the right hand, taken his sword in the +left, and gone forward. Of Bolkonski, nothing was said, and only those +who knew him intimately regretted that he had died so young, leaving a +pregnant wife with his eccentric father. + +CHAPTER III + +On that third of March, all the rooms in the English Club were +filled with a hum of conversation, like the hum of bees swarming in +springtime. The members and guests of the Club wandered hither and +thither, sat, stood, met, and separated, some in uniform and some in +evening dress, and a few here and there with powdered hair and in +Russian kaftans. Powdered footmen, in livery with buckled shoes and +smart stockings, stood at every door anxiously noting visitors' +every movement in order to offer their services. Most of those present +were elderly, respected men with broad, self-confident faces, fat +fingers, and resolute gestures and voices. This class of guests and +members sat in certain habitual places and met in certain habitual +groups. A minority of those present were casual guests- chiefly +young men, among whom were Denisov, Rostov, and Dolokhov- who was +now again an officer in the Semenov regiment. The faces of these young +people, especially those who were militarymen, bore that expression of +condescending respect for their elders which seems to say to the older +generation, "We are prepared to respect and honor you, but all the +same remember that the future belongs to us." + +Nesvitski was there as an old member of the Club. Pierre, who at his +wife's command had let his hair grow and abandoned his spectacles, +went about the rooms fashionably dressed but looking sad and dull. +Here, as elsewhere, he was surrounded by an atmosphere of subservience +to his wealth, and being in the habit of lording it over these people, +he treated them with absent-minded contempt. + +By his age he should have belonged to the younger men, but by his +wealth and connections he belonged to the groups old and honored +guests, and so he went from one group to another. Some of the most +important old men were the center of groups which even strangers +approached respectfully to hear the voices of well-known men. The +largest circles formed round Count Rostopchin, Valuev, and +Naryshkin. Rostopchin was describing how the Russians had been +overwhelmed by flying Austrians and had had to force their way through +them with bayonets. + +Valuev was confidentially telling that Uvarov had been sent from +Petersburg to ascertain what Moscow was thinking about Austerlitz. + +In the third circle, Naryshkin was speaking of the meeting of the +Austrian Council of War at which Suvorov crowed like a cock in reply +to the nonsense talked by the Austrian generals. Shinshin, standing +close by, tried to make a joke, saying that Kutuzov had evidently +failed to learn from Suvorov even so simple a thing as the art of +crowing like a cock, but the elder members glanced severely at the +wit, making him feel that in that place and on that day, it was +improper to speak so of Kutuzov. + +Count Ilya Rostov, hurried and preoccupied, went about in his soft +boots between the dining and drawing rooms, hastily greeting the +important and unimportant, all of whom he knew, as if they were all +equals, while his eyes occasionally sought out his fine well-set-up +young son, resting on him and winking joyfully at him. Young Rostov +stood at a window with Dolokhov, whose acquaintance he had lately made +and highly valued. The old count came up to them and pressed +Dolokhov's hand. + +"Please come and visit us... you know my brave boy... been +together out there... both playing the hero... Ah, Vasili +Ignatovich... How d'ye do, old fellow?" he said, turning to an old man +who was passing, but before he had finished his greeting there was a +general stir, and a footman who had run in announced, with a +frightened face: "He's arrived!" + +Bells rang, the stewards rushed forward, and- like rye shaken +together in a shovel- the guests who had been scattered about in +different rooms came together and crowded in the large drawing room by +the door of the ballroom. + +Bagration appeared in the doorway of the anteroom without hat or +sword, which, in accord with the Club custom, he had given up to the +hall porter. He had no lambskin cap on his head, nor had he a loaded +whip over his shoulder, as when Rostov had seen him on the eve of +the battle of Austerlitz, but wore a tight new uniform with Russian +and foreign Orders, and the Star of St. George on his left breast. +Evidently just before coming to the dinner he had had his hair and +whiskers trimmed, which changed his appearance for the worse. There +was something naively festive in his air, which, in conjunction with +his firm and virile features, gave him a rather comical expression. +Bekleshev and Theodore Uvarov, who had arrived with him, paused at the +doorway to allow him, as the guest of honor, to enter first. Bagration +was embarrassed, not wishing to avail himself of their courtesy, and +this caused some delay at the doors, but after all he did at last +enter first. He walked shyly and awkwardly over the parquet floor of +the reception room, not knowing what to do with his hands; he was more +accustomed to walk over a plowed field under fire, as he had done at +the head of the Kursk regiment at Schon Grabern- and he would have +found that easier. The committeemen met him at the first door and, +expressing their delight at seeing such a highly honored guest, took +possession of him as it were, without waiting for his reply, +surrounded him, and led him to the drawing room. It was at first +impossible to enter the drawing-room door for the crowd of members and +guests jostling one another and trying to get a good look at Bagration +over each other's shoulders, as if he were some rare animal. Count +Ilya Rostov, laughing and repeating the words, "Make way, dear boy! +Make way, make way!" pushed through the crowd more energetically +than anyone, led the guests into the drawing room, and seated them +on the center sofa. The bigwigs, the most respected members of the +Club, beset the new arrivals. Count Ilya, again thrusting his way +through the crowd, went out of the drawing room and reappeared a +minute later with another committeeman, carrying a large silver salver +which he presented to Prince Bagration. On the salver lay some +verses composed and printed in the hero's honor. Bagration, on +seeing the salver, glanced around in dismay, as though seeking help. +But all eyes demanded that he should submit. Feeling himself in +their power, he resolutely took the salver with both hands and +looked sternly and reproachfully at the count who had presented it +to him. Someone obligingly took the dish from Bagration (or he +would, it seemed, have held it till evening and have gone in to dinner +with it) and drew his attention to the verses. + +"Well, I will read them, then!" Bagration seemed to say, and, fixing +his weary eyes on the paper, began to read them with a fixed and +serious expression. But the author himself took the verses and began +reading them aloud. Bagration bowed his bead and listened: + +_1 Bring glory then to Alexander's reign<br> +And on the throne our Titus shield. +A dreaded foe be thou, kindhearted as a man, +A Rhipheus at home, a Caesar in the field! +E'en fortunate Napoleon +Knows by experience, now, Bagration, +And dare not Herculean Russians trouble... + +But before he had finished reading, a stentorian major-domo +announced that dinner was ready! The door opened, and from the +dining room came the resounding strains of the polonaise: + +_1 Conquest's joyful thunder waken,<br> +Triumph, valiant Russians, now!... + +and Count Rostov, glancing angrily at the author who went on reading +his verses, bowed to Bagration. Everyone rose, feeling that dinner was +more important than verses, and Bagration, again preceding all the +rest, went in to dinner. He was seated in the place of honor between +two Alexanders- Bekleshev and Naryshkin- which was a significant +allusion to the name of the sovereign. Three hundred persons took +their seats in the dining room, according to their rank and +importance: the more important nearer to the honored guest, as +naturally as water flows deepest where the land lies lowest. + +Just before dinner, Count Ilya Rostov presented his son to +Bagration, who recognized him and said a few words to him, +disjointed and awkward, as were all the words he spoke that day, and +Count Ilya looked joyfully and proudly around while Bagration spoke to +his son. + +Nicholas Rostov, with Denisov and his new acquaintance, Dolokhov, +sat almost at the middle of the table. Facing them sat Pierre, +beside Prince Nesvitski. Count Ilya Rostov with the other members of +the committee sat facing Bagration and, as the very personification of +Moscow hospitality, did the honors to the prince. + +His efforts had not been in vain. The dinner, both the Lenten and +the other fare, was splendid, yet he could not feel quite at ease till +the end of the meal. He winked at the butler, whispered directions +to the footmen, and awaited each expected dish with some anxiety. +Everything was excellent. With the second course, a gigantic sterlet +(at sight of which Ilya Rostov blushed with self-conscious +pleasure), the footmen began popping corks and filling the champagne +glasses. After the fish, which made a certain sensation, the count +exchanged glances with the other committeemen. "There will be many +toasts, it's time to begin," he whispered, and taking up his glass, he +rose. All were silent, waiting for what he would say. + +"To the health of our Sovereign, the Emperor!" he cried, and at +the same moment his kindly eyes grew moist with tears of joy and +enthusiasm. The band immediately struck up "Conquest's joyful +thunder waken..." All rose and cried "Hurrah!" Bagration also rose and +shouted "Hurrah!" in exactly the same voice in which he had shouted it +on the field at Schon Grabern. Young Rostov's ecstatic voice could +be heard above the three hundred others. He nearly wept. "To the +health of our Sovereign, the Emperor!" he roared, "Hurrah!" and +emptying his glass at one gulp he dashed it to the floor. Many +followed his example, and the loud shouting continued for a long time. +When the voices subsided, the footmen cleared away the broken glass +and everybody sat down again, smiling at the noise they had made and +exchanging remarks. The old count rose once more, glanced at a note +lying beside his plate, and proposed a toast, "To the health of the +hero of our last campaign, Prince Peter Ivanovich Bagration!" and +again his blue eyes grew moist. "Hurrah!" cried the three hundred +voices again, but instead of the band a choir began singing a +cantata composed by Paul Ivanovich Kutuzov: + +_1 Russians! O'er all barriers on!<br> +Courage conquest guarantees; +Have we not Bagration? +He brings foe men to their knees,... etc. + +As soon as the singing was over, another and another toast was +proposed and Count Ilya Rostov became more and more moved, more +glass was smashed, and the shouting grew louder. They drank to +Bekleshev, Naryshkin, Uvarov, Dolgorukov, Apraksin, Valuev, to the +committee, to all the Club members and to all the Club guests, and +finally to Count Ilya Rostov separately, as the organizer of the +banquet. At that toast, the count took out his handkerchief and, +covering his face, wept outright. + +CHAPTER IV + +Pierre sat opposite Dolokhov and Nicholas Rostov. As usual, he ate +and drank much, and eagerly. But those who knew him intimately noticed +that some great change had come over him that day. He was silent all +through dinner and looked about, blinking and scowling, or, with fixed +eyes and a look of complete absent-mindedness, kept rubbing the bridge +of his nose. His face was depressed and gloomy. He seemed to see and +hear nothing of what was going on around him and to be absorbed by +some depressing and unsolved problem. + +The unsolved problem that tormented him was caused by hints given by +the princess, his cousin, at Moscow, concerning Dolokhov's intimacy +with his wife, and by an anonymous letter he had received that +morning, which in the mean jocular way common to anonymous letters +said that he saw badly through his spectacles, but that his wife's +connection with Dolokhov was a secret to no one but himself. Pierre +absolutely disbelieved both the princess' hints and the letter, but he +feared now to look at Dolokhov, who was sitting opposite him. Every +time he chanced to meet Dolokhov's handsome insolent eyes, Pierre felt +something terrible and monstrous rising in his soul and turned quickly +away. Involuntarily recalling his wife's past and her relations with +Dolokhov, Pierre saw clearly that what was said in the letter might be +true, or might at least seem to be true had it not referred to his +wife. He involuntarily remembered how Dolokhov, who had fully +recovered his former position after the campaign, had returned to +Petersburg and come to him. Availing himself of his friendly relations +with Pierre as a boon companion, Dolokhov had come straight to his +house, and Pierre had put him up and lent him money. Pierre recalled +how Helene had smilingly expressed disapproval of Dolokhov's living at +their house, and how cynically Dolokhov had praised his wife's +beauty to him and from that time till they came to Moscow had not left +them for a day. + +"Yes, he is very handsome," thought Pierre, "and I know him. It +would be particularly pleasant to him to dishonor my name and ridicule +me, just because I have exerted myself on his behalf, befriended +him, and helped him. I know and understand what a spice that would add +to the pleasure of deceiving me, if it really were true. Yes, if it +were true, but I do not believe it. I have no right to, and can't, +believe it." He remembered the expression Dolokhov's face assumed in +his moments of cruelty, as when tying the policeman to the bear and +dropping them into the water, or when he challenged a man to a duel +without any reason, or shot a post-boy's horse with a pistol. That +expression was often on Dolokhov's face when looking at him. "Yes, +he is a bully," thought Pierre, "to kill a man means nothing to him. +It must seem to him that everyone is afraid of him, and that must +please him. He must think that I, too, am afraid of him- and in fact I +am afraid of him," he thought, and again he felt something terrible +and monstrous rising in his soul. Dolokhov, Denisov, and Rostov were +now sitting opposite Pierre and seemed very gay. Rostov was talking +merrily to his two friends, one of whom was a dashing hussar and the +other a notorious duelist and rake, and every now and then he +glanced ironically at Pierre, whose preoccupied, absent-minded, and +massive figure was a very noticeable one at the dinner. Rostov +looked inimically at Pierre, first because Pierre appeared to his +hussar eyes as a rich civilian, the husband of a beauty, and in a +word- an old woman; and secondly because Pierre in his preoccupation +and absent-mindedness had not recognized Rostov and had not +responded to his greeting. When the Emperor's health was drunk, +Pierre, lost in thought, did not rise or lift his glass. + +"What are you about?" shouted Rostov, looking at him in an ecstasy +of exasperation. "Don't you hear it's His Majesty the Emperor's +health?" + +Pierre sighed, rose submissively, emptied his glass, and, waiting +till all were seated again, turned with his kindly smile to Rostov. + +"Why, I didn't recognize you!" he said. But Rostov was otherwise +engaged; he was shouting "Hurrah!" + +"Why don't you renew the acquaintance?" said Dolokhov to Rostov. + +"Confound him, he's a fool!" said Rostov. + +"One should make up to the husbands of pretty women," said Denisov. + +Pierre did not catch what they were saying, but knew they were +talking about him. He reddened and turned away. + +"Well, now to the health of handsome women!" said Dolokhov, and with +a serious expression, but with a smile lurking at the corners of his +mouth, he turned with his glass to Pierre. + +"Here's to the health of lovely women, Peterkin- and their +lovers!" he added. + +Pierre, with downcast eyes, drank out of his glass without looking +at Dolokhov or answering him. The footman, who was distributing +leaflets with Kutuzov's cantata, laid one before Pierre as one of +the principal guests. He was just going to take it when Dolokhov, +leaning across, snatched it from his hand and began reading it. Pierre +looked at Dolokhov and his eyes dropped, the something terrible and +monstrous that had tormented him all dinnertime rose and took +possession of him. He leaned his whole massive body across the table. + +"How dare you take it?" he shouted. + +Hearing that cry and seeing to whom it was addressed, Nesvitski +and the neighbor on his right quickly turned in alarm to Bezukhov. + +"Don't! Don't! What are you about?" whispered their frightened +voices. + +Dolokhov looked at Pierre with clear, mirthful, cruel eyes, and that +smile of his which seemed to say, "Ah! This is what I like!" + +"You shan't have it!" he said distinctly. + +Pale, with quivering lips, Pierre snatched the copy. + +"You...! you... scoundrel! I challenge you!" he ejaculated, and, +pushing back his chair, he rose from the table. + +At the very instant he did this and uttered those words, Pierre felt +that the question of his wife's guilt which had been tormenting him +the whole day was finally and indubitably answered in the affirmative. +He hated her and was forever sundered from her. Despite Denisov's +request that he would take no part in the matter, Rostov agreed to +be Dolokhov's second, and after dinner he discussed the arrangements +for the duel with Nesvitski, Bezukhov's second. Pierre went home, +but Rostov with Dolokhov and Denisov stayed on at the Club till +late, listening to the gypsies and other singers. + +"Well then, till tomorrow at Sokolniki,"said Dolokhov, as he took +leave of Rostov in the Club porch. + +"And do you feel quite calm?" Rostov asked. + +Dolokhov paused. + +"Well, you see, I'll tell you the whole secret of dueling in two +words. If you are going to fight a duel, and you make a will and write +affectionate letters to your parents, and if you think you may be +killed, you are a fool and are lost for certain. But go with the +firm intention of killing your man as quickly and surely as +possible, and then all will be right, as our bear huntsman at Kostroma +used to tell me. 'Everyone fears a bear,' he says, 'but when you see +one your fear's all gone, and your only thought is not to let him +get away!' And that's how it is with me. A demain, mon cher."~^ + +^~ Till tomorrow, my dear fellow. + +Next day, at eight in the morning, Pierre and Nesvitski drove to the +Sokolniki forest and found Dolokhov, Denisov, and Rostov already +there. Pierre had the air of a man preoccupied with considerations +which had no connection with the matter in hand. His haggard face +was yellow. He had evidently not slept that night. He looked about +distractedly and screwed up his eyes as if dazzled by the sun. He +was entirely absorbed by two considerations: his wife's guilt, of +which after his sleepless night he had not the slightest doubt, and +the guiltlessness of Dolokhov, who had no reason to preserve the honor +of a man who was nothing to him.... "I should perhaps have done the +same thing in his place," thought Pierre. "It's even certain that I +should have done the same, then why this duel, this murder? Either I +shall kill him, or he will hit me in the head, or elbow, or knee. +Can't I go away from here, run away, bury myself somewhere?" passed +through his mind. But just at moments when such thoughts occurred to +him, he would ask in a particularly calm and absent-minded way, +which inspired the respect of the onlookers, "Will it be long? Are +things ready?" + +When all was ready, the sabers stuck in the snow to mark the +barriers, and the pistols loaded, Nesvitski went up to Pierre. + +"I should not be doing my duty, Count," he said in timid tones, "and +should not justify your confidence and the honor you have done me in +choosing me for your second, if at this grave, this very grave, moment +I did not tell you the whole truth. I think there is no sufficient +ground for this affair, or for blood to be shed over it.... You were +not right, not quite in the right, you were impetuous..." + +"Oh yes, it is horribly stupid," said Pierre. + +"Then allow me to express your regrets, and I am sure your +opponent will accept them," said Nesvitski (who like the others +concerned in the affair, and like everyone in similar cases, did not +yet believe that the affair had come to an actual duel). "You know, +Count, it is much more honorable to admit one's mistake than to let +matters become irreparable. There was no insult on either side. +Allow me to convey...." + +"No! What is there to talk about?" said Pierre. "It's all the +same.... Is everything ready?" he added. "Only tell me where to go and +where to shoot," he said with an unnaturally gentle smile. + +He took the pistol in his hand and began asking about the working of +the trigger, as he had not before held a pistol in his hand- a fact +that he did not to confess. + +"Oh yes, like that, I know, I only forgot," said he. + +"No apologies, none whatever," said Dolokhov to Denisov (who on +his side had been attempting a reconciliation), and he also went up to +the appointed place. + +The spot chosen for the duel was some eighty paces from the road, +where the sleighs had been left, in a small clearing in the pine +forest covered with melting snow, the frost having begun to break up +during the last few days. The antagonists stood forty paces apart at +the farther edge of the clearing. The seconds, measuring the paces, +left tracks in the deep wet snow between the place where they had been +standing and Nesvitski's and Dolokhov's sabers, which were stuck +intothe ground ten paces apart to mark the barrier. It was thawing and +misty; at forty paces' distance nothing could be seen. For three +minutes all had been ready, but they still delayed and all were +silent. + +CHAPTER V + +"Well begin!" said Dolokhov. + +"All right," said Pierre, still smiling in the same way. A feeling +of dread was in the air. It was evident that the affair so lightly +begun could no longer be averted but was taking its course +independently of men's will. + +Denisov first went to the barrier and announced: "As the adve'sawies +have wefused a weconciliation, please pwoceed. Take your pistols, +and at the word thwee begin to advance. + +"O-ne! T-wo! Thwee!" he shouted angrily and stepped aside. + +The combatants advanced along the trodden tracks, nearer and +nearer to one another, beginning to see one another through the +mist. They had the right to fire when they liked as they approached +the barrier. Dolokhov walked slowly without raising his pistol, +looking intently with his bright, sparkling blue eyes into his +antagonist's face. His mouth wore its usual semblance of a smile. + +"So I can fire when I like!" said Pierre, and at the word "three," +he went quickly forward, missing the trodden path and stepping into +the deep snow. He held the pistol in his right hand at arm's length, +apparently afraid of shooting himself with it. His left hand he held +carefully back, because he wished to support his right hand with it +and knew he must not do so. Having advanced six paces and strayed +off the track into the snow, Pierre looked down at his feet, then +quickly glanced at Dolokhov and, bending his finger as he had been +shown, fired. Not at all expecting so loud a report, Pierre +shuddered at the sound and then, smiling at his own sensations, +stood still. The smoke, rendered denser by the mist, prevented him +from seeing anything for an instant, but there was no second report as +he had expected. He only heard Dolokhov's hurried steps, and his +figure came in view through the smoke. He was pressing one hand to his +left side, while the other clutched his drooping pistol. His face +was pale. Rostov ran toward him and said something. + +"No-o-o!" muttered Dolokhov through his teeth, "no, it's not +over." And after stumbling a few staggering steps right up to the +saber, he sank on the snow beside it. His left hand was bloody; he +wiped it on his coat and supported himself with it. His frowning +face was pallid and quivered. + +"Plea..." began Dolokhov, but could not at first pronounce the word. + +"Please," he uttered with an effort. + +Pierre, hardly restraining his sobs, began running toward Dolokhov +and was about to cross the space between the barriers, when Dolokhov +cried: + +"To your barrier!" and Pierre, grasping what was meant, stopped by +his saber. Only ten paces divided them. Dolokhov lowered his head to +the snow, greedily bit at it, again raised his head, adjusted himself, +drew in his legs and sat up, seeking a firm center of gravity. He +sucked and sucked and swallowed the cold snow, his lips quivered but +his eyes, still smiling, glittered with effort and exasperation as +he mustered his remaining strength. He raised his pistol and aimed. + +"Sideways! Cover yourself with your pistol!" ejaculated Nesvitski. + +"Cover yourself!" even Denisov cried to his adversary. + +Pierre, with a gentle smile of pity and remorse, his arms and legs +helplessly spread out, stood with his broad chest directly facing +Dolokhov looked sorrowfully at him. Denisov, Rostov, and Nesvitski +closed their eyes. At the same instant they heard a report and +Dolokhov's angry cry. + +"Missed!" shouted Dolokhov, and he lay helplessly, face downwards on +the snow. + +Pierre clutched his temples, and turning round went into the forest, +trampling through the deep snow, and muttering incoherent words: + +"Folly... folly! Death... lies..." he repeated, puckering his face. + +Nesvitski stopped him and took him home. + +Rostov and Denisov drove away with the wounded Dolokhov. + +The latter lay silent in the sleigh with closed eyes and did not +answer a word to the questions addressed to him. But on entering +Moscow he suddenly came to and, lifting his head with an effort, +took Rostov, who was sitting beside him, by the hand. Rostov was +struck by the totally altered and unexpectedly rapturous and tender +expression on Dolokhov's face. + +"Well? How do you feel?" he asked. + +"Bad! But it's not that, my friend-" said Dolokhov with a gasping +voice. "Where are we? In Moscow, I know. I don't matter, but I have +killed her, killed... She won't get over it! She won't survive...." + +"Who?" asked Rostov. + +"My mother! My mother, my angel, my adored angel mother," and +Dolokhov pressed Rostov's hand and burst into tears. + +When he had become a little quieter, he explained to Rostov that +he was living with his mother, who, if she saw him dying, would not +survive it. He implored Rostov to go on and prepare her. + +Rostov went on ahead to do what was asked, and to his great surprise +learned that Dolokhov the brawler, Dolokhov the bully, lived in Moscow +with an old mother and a hunchback sister, and was the most +affectionate of sons and brothers. + +CHAPTER VI + +Pierre had of late rarely seen his wife alone. Both in Petersburg +and in Moscow their house was always full of visitors. The night after +the duel he did not go to his bedroom but, as he often did, remained +in his father's room, that huge room in which Count Bezukhov had died. + +He lay down on the sofa meaning to fall asleep and forget all that +had happened to him, but could not do so. Such a storm of feelings, +thoughts, and memories suddenly arose within him that he could not +fall asleep, nor even remain in one place, but had to jump up and pace +the room with rapid steps. Now he seemed to see her in the early +days of their marriage, with bare shoulders and a languid, +passionate look on her face, and then immediately he saw beside her +Dolokhov's handsome, insolent, hard, and mocking face as he had seen +it at the banquet, and then that same face pale, quivering, and +suffering, as it had been when he reeled and sank on the snow. + +"What has happened?" he asked himself. "I have killed her lover, +yes, killed my wife's lover. Yes, that was it! And why? How did I come +to do it?"- "Because you married her," answered an inner voice. + +"But in what was I to blame?" he asked. "In marrying her without +loving her; in deceiving yourself and her." And he vividly recalled +that moment after supper at Prince Vasili's, when he spoke those words +he had found so difficult to utter: "I love you." "It all comes from +that! Even then I felt it," he thought. "I felt then that it was not +so, that I had no right to do it. And so it turns out." + +He remembered his honeymoon and blushed at the recollection. +Particularly vivid, humiliating, and shameful was the recollection +of how one day soon after his marriage he came out of the bedroom into +his study a little before noon in his silk dressing gown and found his +head steward there, who, bowing respectfully, looked into his face and +at his dressing gown and smiled slightly, as if expressing +respectful understanding of his employer's happiness. + +"But how often I have felt proud of her, proud of her majestic +beauty and social tact," thought he; "been proud of my house, in which +she received all Petersburg, proud of her unapproachability and +beauty. So this is what I was proud of! I then thought that I did +not understand her. How often when considering her character I have +told myself that I was to blame for not understanding her, for not +understanding that constant composure and complacency and lack of +all interests or desires, and the whole secret lies in the terrible +truth that she is a depraved woman. Now I have spoken that terrible +word to myself all has become clear. + +"Anatole used to come to borrow money from her and used to kiss +her naked shoulders. She did not give him the money, but let herself +be kissed. Her father in jest tried to rouse her jealousy, and she +replied with a calm smile that she was not so stupid as to be jealous: +'Let him do what he pleases,' she used to say of me. One day I asked +her if she felt any symptoms of pregnancy. She laughed +contemptuously and said she was not a fool to want to have children, +and that she was not going to have any children by me." + +Then he recalled the coarseness and bluntness of her thoughts and +the vulgarity of the expressions that were natural to her, though +she had been brought up in the most aristocratic circles. + +"I'm not such a fool.... Just you try it on.... Allez-vous +promener,"~^ she used to say. Often seeing the success she had with +young and old men and women Pierre could not understand why he did not +love her. + +^~ "You clear out of this." + +"Yes, I never loved her," said he to himself; "I knew she was a +depraved woman," he repeated, "but dared not admit it to myself. And +now there's Dolokhov sitting in the snow with a forced smile and +perhaps dying, while meeting my remorse with some forced bravado!" + +Pierre was one of those people who, in spite of an appearance of +what is called weak character, do not seek a confidant in their +troubles. He digested his sufferings alone. + +"It is all, all her fault," he said to himself; "but what of that? +Why did I bind myself to her? Why did I say 'Je vous aime'~^ to her, +which was a lie, and worse than a lie? I am guilty and must +endure... what? A slur on my name? A misfortune for life? Oh, that's +nonsense," he thought. "The slur on my name and honor- that's all +apart from myself. + +^~ I love you. + +"Louis XVI was executed because they said he was dishonorable and +a criminal," came into Pierre's head, "and from their point of view +they were right, as were those too who canonized him and died a +martyr's death for his sake. Then Robespierre was beheaded for being a +despot. Who is right and who is wrong? No one! But if you are alive- +live: tomorrow you'll die as I might have died an hour ago. And is +it worth tormenting oneself, when one has only a moment of life in +comparison with eternity?" + +But at the moment when he imagined himself calmed by such +reflections, she suddenly came into his mind as she was at the moments +when he had most strongly expressed his insincere love for her, and he +felt the blood rush to his heart and had again to get up and move +about and break and tear whatever came to his hand. "Why did I tell +her that 'Je vous aime'?" he kept repeating to himself. And when he +had said it for the tenth time, Molibre's words: "Mais que diable +alloit-il faire dans cette galere?" occurred to him, and he began to +laugh at himself. + +In the night he called his valet and told him to pack up to go to +Petersburg. He could not imagine how he could speak to her now. He +resolved to go away next day and leave a letter informing her of his +intention to part from her forever. + +Next morning when the valet came into the room with his coffee, +Pierre was lying asleep on the ottoman with an open book in his hand. + +He woke up and looked round for a while with a startled +expression, unable to realize where he was. + +"The countess told me to inquire whether your excellency was at +home," said the valet. + +But before Pierre could decide what answer he would send, the +countess herself in a white satin dressing gown embroidered with +silver and with simply dressed hair (two immense plaits twice round +her lovely head like a coronet) entered the room, calm and majestic, +except that there was a wrathful wrinkle on her rather prominent +marble brow. With her imperturbable calm she did not begin to speak in +front of the valet. She knew of the duel and had come to speak about +it. She waited till the valet had set down the coffee things and +left the room. Pierre looked at her timidly over his spectacles, and +like a hare surrounded by hounds who lays back her ears and +continues to crouch motionless before her enemies, he tried to +continue reading. But feeling this to be senseless and impossible, +he again glanced timidly at her. She did not sit down but looked at +him with a contemptuous smile, waiting for the valet to go. + +"Well, what's this now? What have you been up to now, I should +like to know?" she asked sternly. + +"I? What have I...?" stammered Pierre. + +"So it seems you're a hero, eh? Come now, what was this duel +about? What is it meant to prove? What? I ask you." + +Pierre turned over heavily on the ottoman and opened his mouth, +but could not reply. + +"If you won't answer, I'll tell you..." Helene went on. "You believe +everything you're told. You were told..." Helene laughed, "that +Dolokhov was my lover," she said in French with her coarse plainness +of speech, uttering the word amant as casually as any other word, "and +you believed it! Well, what have you proved? What does this duel +prove? That you're a fool, que vous etes un sot, but everybody knew +that. What will be the result? That I shall be the laughingstock of +all Moscow, that everyone will say that you, drunk and not knowing +what you were about, challenged a man you are jealous of without +cause." Helene raised her voice and became more and more excited, "A +man who's a better man than you in every way..." + +"Hm... Hm...!" growled Pierre, frowning without looking at her, +and not moving a muscle. + +"And how could you believe he was my lover? Why? Because I like +his company? If you were cleverer and more agreeable, I should +prefer yours." + +"Don't speak to me... I beg you," muttered Pierre hoarsely. + +"Why shouldn't I speak? I can speak as I like, and I tell you +plainly that there are not many wives with husbands such as you who +would not have taken lovers (des amants), but I have not done so," +said she. + +Pierre wished to say something, looked at her with eyes whose +strange expression she did not understand, and lay down again. He +was suffering physically at that moment, there was a weight on his +chest and he could not breathe. He knew that he must do something to +put an end to this suffering, but what he wanted to do was too +terrible. + +"We had better separate," he muttered in a broken voice. + +"Separate? Very well, but only if you give me a fortune," said +Helene. "Separate! That's a thing to frighten me with!" + +Pierre leaped up from the sofa and rushed staggering toward her. + +"I'll kill you!" he shouted, and seizing the marble top of a table +with a strength he had never before felt, he made a step toward her +brandishing the slab. + +Helene's face became terrible, she shrieked and sprang aside. His +father's nature showed itself in Pierre. He felt the fascination and +delight of frenzy. He flung down the slab, broke it, and swooping down +on her with outstretched hands shouted, "Get out!" in such a +terrible voice that the whole house heard it with horror. God knows +what he would have done at that moment had Helene not fled from the +room. + +A week later Pierre gave his wife full power to control all his +estates in Great Russia, which formed the larger part of his property, +and left for Petersburg alone. + +CHAPTER VII + +Two months had elapsed since the news of the battle of Austerlitz +and the loss of Prince Andrew had reached Bald Hills, and in spite +of the letters sent through the embassy and all the searches made, his +body had not been found nor was he on the list of prisoners. What +was worst of all for his relations was the fact that there was still a +possibility of his having been picked up on the battlefield by the +people of the place and that he might now be lying, recovering or +dying, alone among strangers and unable to send news of himself. The +gazettes from which the old prince first heard of the defeat at +Austerlitz stated, as usual very briefly and vaguely, that after +brilliant engagements the Russians had had to retreat and had made +their withdrawal in perfect order. The old prince understood from this +official report that our army had been defeated. A week after the +gazette report of the battle of Austerlitz came a letter from +Kutuzov informing the prince of the fate that had befallen his son. + +"Your son," wrote Kutuzov, "fell before my eyes, a standard in his +hand and at the head of a regiment- he fell as a hero, worthy of his +father and his fatherland. To the great regret of myself and of the +whole army it is still uncertain whether he is alive or not. I comfort +myself and you with the hope that your son is alive, for otherwise +he would have been mentioned among the officers found on the field +of battle, a list of whom has been sent me under flag of truce." + +After receiving this news late in the evening, when he was alone +in his study, the old prince went for his walk as usual next +morning, but he was silent with his steward, the gardener, and the +architect, and though he looked very grim he said nothing to anyone. + +When Princess Mary went to him at the usual hour he was working at +his lathe and, as usual, did not look round at her. + +"Ah, Princess Mary!" he said suddenly in an unnatural voice, +throwing down his chisel. (The wheel continued to revolve by its own +impetus, and Princess Mary long remembered the dying creak of that +wheel, which merged in her memory with what followed.) + +She approached him, saw his face, and something gave way within her. +Her eyes grew dim. By the expression of her father's face, not sad, +not crushed, but angry and working unnaturally, she saw that hanging +over her and about to crush her was some terrible misfortune, the +worst in life, one she had not yet experienced, irreparable and +incomprehensible- the death of one she loved. + +"Father! Andrew!"- said the ungraceful, awkward princess with such +an indescribable charm of sorrow and self-forgetfulness that her +father could not bear her look but turned away with a sob. + +"Bad news! He's not among the prisoners nor among the killed! +Kutuzov writes..." and he screamed as piercingly as if he wished to +drive the princess away by that scream... "Killed!" + +The princess did not fall down or faint. She was already pale, but +on hearing these words her face changed and something brightened in +her beautiful, radiant eyes. It was as if joy- a supreme joy apart +from the joys and sorrows of this world- overflowed the great grief +within her. She forgot all fear of her father, went up to him, took +his hand, and drawing him down put her arm round his thin, scraggy +neck. + +"Father" she said, "do not turn away from me, let us weep together." + +"Scoundrels! Blackguards!" shrieked the old man, turning his face +away from her. "Destroying the army, destroying the men! And why? +Go, go and tell Lise." + +The princess sank helplessly into an armchair beside her father +and wept. She saw her brother now as he had been at the moment when he +took leave of her and of Lise, his look tender yet proud. She saw +him tender and amused as he was when he put on the little icon. "Did +he believe? Had he repented of his unbelief? Was he now there? There +in the realms of eternal peace and blessedness?" she thought. + +"Father, tell me how it happened," she asked through her tears. + +"Go! Go! Killed in battle, where the best of Russian men and +Russia's glory were led to destruction. Go, Princess Mary. Go and tell +Lise. I will follow." + +When Princess Mary returned from her father, the little princess sat +working and looked up with that curious expression of inner, happy +calm peculiar to pregnant women. It was evident that her eyes did +not see Princess Mary but were looking within... into herself... at +something joyful and mysterious taking place within her. + +"Mary," she said, moving away from the embroidery frame and lying +back, "give me your hand." She took her sister-in-law's hand and +held it below her waist. + +Her eyes were smiling expectantly, her downy lip rose and remained +lifted in childlike happiness. + +Princess Mary knelt down before her and hid her face in the folds of +her sister-in-law's dress. + +"There, there! Do you feel it? I feel so strange. And do you know, +Mary, I am going to love him very much," said Lise, looking with +bright and happy eyes at her sister-in-law. + +Princess Mary could not lift her head, she was weeping. + +"What is the matter, Mary?" + +"Nothing... only I feel sad... sad about Andrew," she said, wiping +away her tears on her sister-in-law's knee. + +Several times in the course of the morning Princess Mary began +trying to prepare her sister-in-law, and every time began to cry. +Unobservant as was the little princess, these tears, the cause of +which she did not understand, agitated her. She said nothing but +looked about uneasily as if in search of something. Before dinner +the old prince, of whom she was always afraid, came into her room with +a peculiarly restless and malign expression and went out again without +saying a word. She looked at Princess Mary, then sat thinking for a +while with that expression of attention to something within her that +is only seen in pregnant women, and suddenly began to cry. + +"Has anything come from Andrew?" she asked. + +"No, you know it's too soon for news. But my father is anxious and I +feel afraid." + +"So there's nothing?" + +"Nothing," answered Princess Mary, looking firmly with her radiant +eyes at her sister-in-law. + +She had determined not to tell her and persuaded her father to +hide the terrible news from her till after her confinement, which +was expected within a few days. Princess Mary and the old prince +each bore and hid their grief in their own way. The old prince would +not cherish any hope: he made up his mind that Prince Andrew had +been killed, and though he sent an official to Austria to seek for +traces of his son, he ordered a monument from Moscow which he intended +to erect in his own garden to his memory, and he told everybody that +his son had been killed. He tried not to change his former way of +life, but his strength failed him. He walked less, ate less, slept +less, and became weaker every day. Princess Mary hoped. She prayed for +her brother as living and was always awaiting news of his return. + +CHAPTER VIII + +"Dearest," said the little princess after breakfast on the morning +of the nineteenth March, and her downy little lip rose from old habit, +but as sorrow was manifest in every smile, the sound of every word, +and even every footstep in that house since the terrible news had +come, so now the smile of the little princess- influenced by the +general mood though without knowing its cause- was such as to remind +one still more of the general sorrow. + +"Dearest, I'm afraid this morning's fruschtique~^ as Foka the cook +calls it- has disagreed with me." + +^~ Fruhstuck: breakfast. + +"What is the matter with you, my darling? You look pale. Oh, you are +very pale!" said Princess Mary in alarm, running with her soft, +ponderous steps up to her sister-in-law. + +"Your excellency, should not Mary Bogdanovna be sent for?" said +one of the maids who was present. (Mary Bogdanovna was a midwife +from the neighboring town, who had been at Bald Hills for the last +fortnight.) + +"Oh yes," assented Princess Mary, "perhaps that's it. I'll go. +Courage, my angel." She kissed Lise and was about to leave the room. + +"Oh, no, no!" And besides the pallor and the physical suffering on +the little princess' face, an expression of childish fear of +inevitable pain showed itself. + +"No, it's only indigestion?... Say it's only indigestion, say so, +Mary! Say..." And the little princess began to cry capriciously like a +suffering child and to wring her little hands even with some +affectation. Princess Mary ran out of the room to fetch Mary +Bogdanovna. + +"Mon Dieu! Mon Dieu! Oh!" she heard as she left the room. + +The midwife was already on her way to meet her, rubbing her small, +plump white hands with an air of calm importance. + +"Mary Bogdanovna, I think it's beginning!" said Princess Mary +looking at the midwife with wide-open eyes of alarm. + +"Well, the Lord be thanked, Princess," said Mary Bogdanovna, not +hastening her steps. "You young ladies should not know anything +about it." + +"But how is it the doctor from Moscow is not here yet?" said the +princess. (In accordance with Lise's and Prince Andrew's wishes they +had sent in good time to Moscow for a doctor and were expecting him at +any moment.) + +"No matter, Princess, don't be alarmed," said Mary Bogdanovna. +"We'll manage very well without a doctor." + +Five minutes later Princess Mary from her room heard something heavy +being carried by. She looked out. The men servants were carrying the +large leather sofa from Prince Andrew's study into the bedroom. On +their faces was a quiet and solemn look. + +Princess Mary sat alone in her room listening to the sounds in the +house, now and then opening her door when someone passed and +watching what was going on in the passage. Some women passing with +quiet steps in and out of the bedroom glanced at the princess and +turned away. She did not venture to ask any questions, and shut the +door again, now sitting down in her easy chair, now taking her +prayer book, now kneeling before the icon stand. To her surprise and +distress she found that her prayers did not calm her excitement. +Suddenly her door opened softly and her old nurse, Praskovya Savishna, +who hardly ever came to that room as the old prince had forbidden +it, appeared on the threshold with a shawl round her head. + +"I've come to sit with you a bit, Masha," said the nurse, "and +here I've brought the prince's wedding candles to light before his +saint, my angel," she said with a sigh. + +"Oh, nurse, I'm so glad!" + +"God is merciful, birdie." + +The nurse lit the gilt candles before the icons and sat down by +the door with her knitting. Princess Mary took a book and began +reading. Only when footsteps or voices were heard did they look at one +another, the princess anxious and inquiring, the nurse encouraging. +Everyone in the house was dominated by the same feeling that +Princess Mary experienced as she sat in her room. But owing to the +superstition that the fewer the people who know of it the less a woman +in travail suffers, everyone tried to pretend not to know; no one +spoke of it, but apart from the ordinary staid and respectful good +manners habitual in the prince's household, a common anxiety, a +softening of the heart, and a consciousness that something great and +mysterious was being accomplished at that moment made itself felt. + +There was no laughter in the maids' large hall. In the men servants' +hall all sat waiting, silently and alert. In the outlying serfs' +quarters torches and candles were burning and no one slept. The old +prince, stepping on his heels, paced up and down his study and sent +Tikhon to ask Mary Bogdanovna what news.- "Say only that 'the prince +told me to ask,' and come and tell me her answer." + +"Inform the prince that labor has begun," said Mary Bogdanovna, +giving the messenger a significant look. + +Tikhon went and told the prince. + +"Very good!" said the prince closing the door behind him, and Tikhon +did not hear the slightest sound from the study after that. + +After a while he re-entered it as if to snuff the candles, and, +seeing the prince was lying on the sofa, looked at him, noticed his +perturbed face, shook his head, and going up to him silently kissed +him on the shoulder and left the room without snuffing the candles +or saying why he had entered. The most solemn mystery in the world +continued its course. Evening passed, night came, and the feeling of +suspense and softening of heart in the presence of the unfathomable +did not lessen but increased. No one slept. + +It was one of those March nights when winter seems to wish to resume +its sway and scatters its last snows and storms with desperate fury. A +relay of horses had been sent up the highroad to meet the German +doctor from Moscow who was expected every moment, and men on horseback +with lanterns were sent to the crossroads to guide him over the +country road with its hollows and snow-covered pools of water. + +Princess Mary had long since put aside her book: she sat silent, her +luminous eyes fixed on her nurse's wrinkled face (every line of +which she knew so well), on the lock of gray hair that escaped from +under the kerchief, and the loose skin that hung under her chin. + +Nurse Savishna, knitting in hand, was telling in low tones, scarcely +hearing or understanding her own words, what she had told hundreds +of times before: how the late princess had given birth to Princess +Mary in Kishenev with only a Moldavian peasant woman to help instead +of a midwife. + +"God is merciful, doctors are never needed," she said. + +Suddenly a gust of wind beat violently against the casement of the +window, from which the double frame had been removed (by order of +the prince, one window frame was removed in each room as soon as the +larks returned), and, forcing open a loosely closed latch, set the +damask curtain flapping and blew out the candle with its chill, +snowy draft. Princess Mary shuddered; her nurse, putting down the +stocking she was knitting, went to the window and leaning out tried to +catch the open casement. The cold wind flapped the ends of her +kerchief and her loose locks of gray hair. + +"Princess, my dear, there's someone driving up the avenue! " she +said, holding the casement and not closing it. "With lanterns. Most +likely the doctor." + +"Oh, my God! thank God!" said Princess Mary. "I must go and meet +him, he does not know Russian." + +Princess Mary threw a shawl over her head and ran to meet the +newcomer. As she was crossing the anteroom she saw through the +window a carriage with lanterns, standing at the entrance. She went +out on the stairs. On a banister post stood a tallow candle which +guttered in the draft. On the landing below, Philip, the footman, +stood looking scared and holding another candle. Still lower, beyond +the turn of the staircase, one could hear the footstep of someone in +thick felt boots, and a voice that seemed familiar to Princess Mary +was saying something. + +"Thank God!" said the voice. "And Father?" + +"Gone to bed," replied the voice of Demyan the house steward, who +was downstairs. + +Then the voice said something more, Demyan replied, and the steps in +the felt boots approached the unseen bend of the staircase more +rapidly. + +"It's Andrew!" thought Princess Mary. "No it can't be, that would be +too extraordinary," and at the very moment she thought this, the +face and figure of Prince Andrew, in a fur cloak the deep collar of +which covered with snow, appeared on the landing where the footman +stood with the candle. Yes, it was he, pale, thin, with a changed +and strangely softened but agitated expression on his face. He came up +the stairs and embraced his sister. + +"You did not get my letter?" he asked, and not waiting for a +reply- which he would not have received, for the princess was unable +to speak- he turned back, rapidly mounted the stairs again with the +doctor who had entered the hall after him (they had met at the last +post station), and again embraced his sister. + +"What a strange fate, Masha darling!" And having taken off his cloak +and felt boots, he went to the little princess' apartment. + +CHAPTER IX + +The little princess lay supported by pillows, with a white cap on +her head (the pains had just left her). Strands of her black hair +lay round her inflamed and perspiring cheeks, her charming rosy +mouth with its downy lip was open and she was smiling joyfully. Prince +Andrew entered and paused facing her at the foot of the sofa on +which she was lying. Her glittering eyes, filled with childlike fear +and excitement, rested on him without changing their expression. "I +love you all and have done no harm to anyone; why must I suffer so? +Help me!" her look seemed to say. She saw her husband, but did not +realize the significance of his appearance before her now. Prince +Andrew went round the sofa and kissed her forehead. + +"My darling!" he said- a word he had never used to her before. +"God is merciful...." + +She looked at him inquiringly and with childlike reproach. + +"I expected help from you and I get none, none from you either!" +said her eyes. She was not surprised at his having come; she did not +realize that he had come. His coming had nothing to do with her +sufferings or with their relief. The pangs began again and Mary +Bogdanovna advised Prince Andrew to leave the room. + +The doctor entered. Prince Andrew went out and, meeting Princess +Mary, again joined her. They began talking in whispers, but their talk +broke off at every moment. They waited and listened. + +"Go, dear," said Princess Mary. + +Prince Andrew went again to his wife and sat waiting in the room +next to hers. A woman came from the bedroom with a frightened face and +became confused when she saw Prince Andrew. He covered his face with +his hands and remained so for some minutes. Piteous, helpless, +animal moans came through the door. Prince Andrew got up, went to +the door, and tried to open it. Someone was holding it shut. + +"You can't come in! You can't!" said a terrified voice from within. + +He began pacing the room. The screaming ceased, and a few more +seconds went by. Then suddenly a terrible shriek- it could not be +hers, she could not scream like that- came from the bedroom. Prince +Andrew ran to the door; the scream ceased and he heard the wail of +an infant. + +"What have they taken a baby in there for?" thought Prince Andrew in +the first second. "A baby? What baby...? Why is there a baby there? Or +is the baby born?" + +Then suddenly he realized the joyful significance of that wail; +tears choked him, and leaning his elbows on the window sill be began +to cry, sobbing like a child. The door opened. The doctor with his +shirt sleeves tucked up, without a coat, pale and with a trembling +jaw, came out of the room. Prince Andrew turned to him, but the doctor +gave him a bewildered look and passed by without a word. A woman +rushed out and seeing Prince Andrew stopped, hesitating on the +threshold. He went into his wife's room. She was lying dead, in the +same position he had seen her in five minutes before and, despite +the fixed eyes and the pallor of the cheeks, the same expression was +on her charming childlike face with its upper lip covered with tiny +black hair. + +"I love you all, and have done no harm to anyone; and what have +you done to me?"- said her charming, pathetic, dead face. + +In a corner of the room something red and tiny gave a grunt and +squealed in Mary Bogdanovna's trembling white hands. + +Two hours later Prince Andrew, stepping softly, went into his +father's room. The old man already knew everything. He was standing +close to the door and as soon as it opened his rough old arms closed +like a vise round his son's neck, and without a word he began to sob +like a child. + +Three days later the little princess was buried, and Prince Andrew +went up the steps to where the coffin stood, to give her the +farewell kiss. And there in the coffin was the same face, though +with closed eyes. "Ah, what have you done to me?" it still seemed to +say, and Prince Andrew felt that something gave way in his soul and +that he was guilty of a sin he could neither remedy nor forget. He +could not weep. The old man too came up and kissed the waxen little +hands that lay quietly crossed one on the other on her breast, and +to him, too, her face seemed to say: "Ah, what have you done to me, +and why?" And at the sight the old man turned angrily away. + +Another five days passed, and then the young Prince Nicholas +Andreevich was baptized. The wet nurse supported the coverlet with her +while the priest with a goose feather anointed the boy's little red +and wrinkled soles and palms. + +His grandfather, who was his godfather, trembling and afraid of +dropping him, carried the infant round the battered tin font and +handed him over to the godmother, Princess Mary. Prince Andrew sat +in another room, faint with fear lest the baby should be drowned in +the font, and awaited the termination of the ceremony. He looked up +joyfully at the baby when the nurse brought it to him and nodded +approval when she told him that the wax with the baby's hair had not +sunk in the font but had floated. + +CHAPTER X + +Rostov's share in Dolokhov's duel with Bezukhov was hushed up by the +efforts of the old count, and instead of being degraded to the ranks +as he expected he was appointed an adjutant to the governor general of +Moscow. As a result he could not go to the country with the rest of +the family, but was kept all summer in Moscow by his new duties. +Dolokhov recovered, and Rostov became very friendly with him during +his convalescence. Dolokhov lay ill at his mother's who loved him +passionately and tenderly, and old Mary Ivanovna, who had grown fond +of Rostov for his friendship to her Fedya, often talked to him about +her son. + +"Yes, Count," she would say, "he is too noble and pure-souled for +our present, depraved world. No one now loves virtue; it seems like +a reproach to everyone. Now tell me, Count, was it right, was it +honorable, of Bezukhov? And Fedya, with his noble spirit, loved him +and even now never says a word against him. Those pranks in Petersburg +when they played some tricks on a policeman, didn't they do it +together? And there! Bezukhov got off scotfree, while Fedya had to +bear the whole burden on his shoulders. Fancy what he had to go +through! It's true he has been reinstated, but how could they fail +to do that? I think there were not many such gallant sons of the +fatherland out there as he. And now- this duel! Have these people no +feeling, or honor? Knowing him to be an only son, to challenge him and +shoot so straight! It's well God had mercy on us. And what was it for? +Who doesn't have intrigues nowadays? Why, if he was so jealous, as I +see things he should have shown it sooner, but he lets it go on for +months. And then to call him out, reckoning on Fedya not fighting +because he owed him money! What baseness! What meanness! I know you +understand Fedya, my dear count; that, believe me, is why I am so fond +of you. Few people do understand him. He is such a lofty, heavenly +soul!" + +Dolokhov himself during his convalescence spoke to Rostov in a way +no one would have expected of him. + +"I know people consider me a bad man!" he said. "Let them! I don't +care a straw about anyone but those I love; but those I love, I love +so that I would give my life for them, and the others I'd throttle +if they stood in my way. I have an adored, a priceless mother, and two +or three friends- you among them- and as for the rest I only care +about them in so far as they are harmful or useful. And most of them +are harmful, especially the women. Yes, dear boy," he continued, "I +have met loving, noble, high-minded men, but I have not yet met any +women- countesses or cooks- who were not venal. I have not yet met +that divine purity and devotion I look for in women. If I found such a +one I'd give my life for her! But those!... and he made a gesture of +contempt. "And believe me, if I still value my life it is only because +I still hope to meet such a divine creature, who will regenerate, +purify, and elevate me. But you don't understand it." + +"Oh, yes, I quite understand, "answered Rostov, who was under his +new friend's influence. + +In the autumn the Rostovs returned to Moscow. Early in the winter +Denisov also came back and stayed with them. The first half of the +winter of 1806, which Nicholas Rostov spent in Moscow, was one of +the happiest, merriest times for him and the whole family. Nicholas +brought many young men to his parents' house. Vera was a handsome girl +of twenty; Sonya a girl of sixteen with all the charm of an opening +flower; Natasha, half grown up and half child, was now childishly +amusing, now girlishly enchanting. + +At that time in the Rostovs' house there prevailed an amorous +atmosphere characteristic of homes where there are very young and very +charming girls. Every young man who came to the house- seeing those +impressionable, smiling young faces (smiling probably at their own +happiness), feeling the eager bustle around him, and hearing the +fitful bursts of song and music and the inconsequent but friendly +prattle of young girls ready for anything and full of hope- +experienced the same feeling; sharing with the young folk of the +Rostovs' household a readiness to fall in love and an expectation of +happiness. + +Among the young men introduced by Rostov one of the first was +Dolokhov, whom everyone in the house liked except Natasha. She +almost quarreled with her brother about him. She insisted that he +was a bad man, and that in the duel with Bezukhov, Pierre was right +and Dolokhov wrong, and further that he was disagreeable and +unnatural. + +"There's nothing for me to understand," cried out with resolute +self-will, "he is wicked and heartless. There now, I like your Denisov +though he is a rake and all that, still I like him; so you see I do +understand. I don't know how to put it... with this one everything +is calculated, and I don't like that. But Denisov..." + +"Oh, Denisov is quite different," replied Nicholas, implying that +even Denisov was nothing compared to Dolokhov- "you must understand +what a soul there is in Dolokhov, you should see him with his +mother. What a heart!" + +"Well, I don't know about that, but I am uncomfortable with him. And +do you know he has fallen in love with Sonya?" + +"What nonsense..." + +"I'm certain of it; you'll see." + +Natasha's prediction proved true. Dolokhov, who did not usually care +for the society of ladies, began to come often to the house, and the +question for whose sake he came (though no one spoke of it) was soon +settled. He came because of Sonya. And Sonya, though she would never +have dared to say so, knew it and blushed scarlet every time +Dolokhov appeared. + +Dolokhov often dined at the Rostovs', never missed a performance +at which they were present, and went to Iogel's balls for young people +which the Rostovs always attended. He was pointedly attentive to Sonya +and looked at her in such a way that not only could she not bear his +glances without coloring, but even the old countess and Natasha +blushed when they saw his looks. + +It was evident that this strange, strong man was under the +irresistible influence of the dark, graceful girl who loved another. + +Rostov noticed something new in Dolokhov's relations with Sonya, but +he did not explain to himself what these new relations were. +"They're always in love with someone," he thought of Sonya and +Natasha. But he was not as much at ease with Sonya and Dolokhov as +before and was less frequently at home. + +In the autumn of 1806 everybody had again begun talking of the war +with Napoleon with even greater warmth than the year before. Orders +were given to raise recruits, ten men in every thousand for the +regular army, and besides this, nine men in every thousand for the +militia. Everywhere Bonaparte was anathematized and in Moscow +nothing but the coming war was talked of. For the Rostov family the +whole interest of these preparations for war lay in the fact that +Nicholas would not hear of remaining in Moscow, and only awaited the +termination of Denisov's furlough after Christmas to return with him +to their regiment. His approaching departure did not prevent his +amusing himself, but rather gave zest to his pleasures. He spent the +greater part of his time away from home, at dinners, parties, and +balls. + +CHAPTER XI + +On the third day after Christmas Nicholas dined at home, a thing +he had rarely done of late. It was a grand farewell dinner, as he +and Denisov were leaving to join their regiment after Epiphany. +About twenty people were present, including Dolokhov and Denisov. + +Never had love been so much in the air, and never had the amorous +atmosphere made itself so strongly felt in the Rostovs' house as at +this holiday time. "Seize the moments of happiness, love and be loved! +That is the only reality in the world, all else is folly. It is the +one thing we are interested in here," said the spirit of the place. + +Nicholas, having as usual exhausted two pairs of horses, without +visiting all the places he meant to go to and where he had been +invited, returned home just before dinner. As soon as he entered he +noticed and felt the tension of the amorous air in the house, and also +noticed a curious embarrassment among some of those present. Sonya, +Dolokhov, and the old countess were especially disturbed, and to a +lesser degree Natasha. Nicholas understood that something must have +happened between Sonya and Dolokhov before dinner, and with the kindly +sensitiveness natural to him was very gentle and wary with them both +at dinner. On that same evening there was to be one of the balls +that Iogel (the dancing master) gave for his pupils durings the +holidays. + +"Nicholas, will you come to Iogel's? Please do!" said Natasha. "He +asked you, and Vasili Dmitrich~^ is also going." + +^~ Denisov. + +"Where would I not go at the countess' command!" said Denisov, who +at the Rostovs' had jocularly assumed the role of Natasha's knight. +"I'm even weady to dance the pas de chale." + +"If I have time," answered Nicholas. "But I promised the +Arkharovs; they have a party." + +"And you?" he asked Dolokhov, but as soon as he had asked the +question he noticed that it should not have been put. + +"Perhaps," coldly and angrily replied Dolokhov, glancing at Sonya, +and, scowling, he gave Nicholas just such a look as he had given +Pierre at the Club dinner. + +"There is something up," thought Nicholas, and he was further +confirmed in this conclusion by the fact that Dolokhov left +immediately after dinner. He called Natasha and asked her what was the +matter. + +"And I was looking for you," said Natasha running out to him. "I +told you, but you would not believe it," she said triumphantly. "He +has proposed to Sonya!" + +Little as Nicholas had occupied himself with Sonya of late, +something seemed to give way within him at this news. Dolokhov was a +suitable and in some respects a brilliant match for the dowerless, +orphan girl. From the point of view of the old countess and of society +it was out of the question for her to refuse him. And therefore +Nicholas' first feeling on hearing the news was one of anger with +Sonya.... He tried to say, "That's capital; of course she'll forget +her childish promises and accept the offer," but before he had time to +say it Natasha began again. + +"And fancy! she refused him quite definitely!" adding, after a +pause, "she told him she loved another." + +"Yes, my Sonya could not have done otherwise!" thought Nicholas. + +"Much as Mamma pressed her, she refused, and I know she won't change +once she has said..." + +"And Mamma pressed her!" said Nicholas reproachfully. + +"Yes," said Natasha. "Do you know, Nicholas- don't be angry- but I +know you will not marry her. I know, heaven knows how, but I know +for certain that you won't marry her." + +"Now don't know that at all!" said Nicholas. "But I must talk to +her. What a darling Sonya is!" he added with a smile. + +"Ah, she is indeed a darling! I'll send her to you." + +And Natasha kissed her brother and ran away. + +A minute later Sonya came in with a frightened, guilty, and scared +look. Nicholas went up to her and kissed her hand. This was the +first time since his return that they had talked alone and about their +love. + +"Sophie," he began, timidly at first and then more and more +boldly, "if you wish to refuse one who is not only a brilliant and +advantageous match but a splendid, noble fellow... he is my friend..." + +Sonya interrupted him. + +"I have already refused," she said hurriedly. + +"If you are refusing for my sake, I am afraid that I..." + +Sonya again interrupted. She gave him an imploring, frightened look. + +"Nicholas, don't tell me that!" she said. + +"No, but I must. It may be arrogant of me, but still it is best to +say it. If you refuse him on my account, I must tell you the whole +truth. I love you, and I think I love you more than anyone else...." + +"That is enough for me," said Sonya, blushing. + +"No, but I have been in love a thousand times and shall fall in love +again, though for no one have I such a feeling of friendship, +confidence, and love as I have for you. Then I am young. Mamma does +not wish it. In a word, I make no promise. And I beg you to consider +Dolokhov's offer," he said, articulating his friend's name with +difficulty. + +"Don't say that to me! I want nothing. I love you as a brother and +always shall, and I want nothing more." + +"You are an angel: I am not worthy of you, but I am afraid of +misleading you." + +And Nicholas again kissed her hand. + +CHAPTER XII + +Iogel's were the most enjoyable balls in Moscow. So said the mothers +as they watched their young people executing their newly learned +steps, and so said the youths and maidens themselves as they danced +till they were ready to drop, and so said the grown-up young men and +women who came to these balls with an air of condescension and found +them most enjoyable. That year two marriages had come of these +balls. The two pretty young Princesses Gorchakov met suitors there and +were married and so further increased the fame of these dances. What +distinguished them from others was the absence of host or hostess +and the presence of the good-natured Iogel, flying about like a +feather and bowing according to the rules of his art, as he +collected the tickets from all his visitors. There was the fact that +only those came who wished to dance and amuse themselves as girls of +thirteen and fourteen do who are wearing long dresses for the first +time. With scarcely any exceptions they all were, or seemed to be, +pretty- so rapturous were their smiles and so sparkling their eyes. +Sometimes the best of the pupils, of whom Natasha, who was +exceptionally graceful, was first, even danced the pas de chale, but +at this last ball only the ecossaise, the anglaise, and the mazurka, +which was just coming into fashion, were danced. Iogel had taken a +ballroom in Bezukhov's house, and the ball, as everyone said, was a +great success. There were many pretty girls and the Rostov girls +were among the prettiest. They were both particularly happy and gay. +That evening, proud of Dolokhov's proposal, her refusal, and her +explanation with Nicholas, Sonya twirled about before she left home so +that the maid could hardly get her hair plaited, and she was +transparently radiant with impulsive joy. + +Natasha no less proud of her first long dress and of being at a real +ball was even happier. They were both dressed in white muslin with +pink ribbons. + +Natasha fell in love the very moment she entered the ballroom. She +was not in love with anyone in particular, but with everyone. Whatever +person she happened to look at she was in love with for that moment. + +"Oh, how delightful it is!" she kept saying, running up to Sonya. + +Nicholas and Denisov were walking up and down, looking with kindly +patronage at the dancers. + +"How sweet she is- she will be a weal beauty!" said Denisov. + +"Who?" + +"Countess Natasha," answered Denisov. + +"And how she dances! What gwace!" he said again after a pause. + +"Who are you talking about?" + +"About your sister," ejaculated Denisov testily. + +Rostov smiled. + +"My dear count, you were one of my best pupils- you must dance," +said little Iogel coming up to Nicholas. "Look how many charming young +ladies-" He turned with the same request to Denisov who was also a +former pupil of his. + +"No, my dear fellow, I'll be a wallflower," said Denisov. "Don't you +wecollect what bad use I made of your lessons?" + +"Oh no!" said Iogel, hastening to reassure him. "You were only +inattentive, but you had talent- oh yes, you had talent!" + +The band struck up the newly introduced mazurka. Nicholas could not +refuse Iogel and asked Sonya to dance. Denisov sat down by the old +ladies and, leaning on his saber and beating time with his foot, +told them something funny and kept them amused, while he watched the +young people dancing, Iogel with Natasha, his pride and his best +pupil, were the first couple. Noiselessly, skillfully stepping with +his little feet in low shoes, Iogel flew first across the hall with +Natasha, who, though shy, went on carefully executing her steps. +Denisov did not take his eyes off her and beat time with his saber +in a way that clearly indicated that if he was not dancing it was +because he would not and not because he could not. In the middle of +a figure he beckoned to Rostov who was passing: + +"This is not at all the thing," he said. "What sort of Polish +mazuwka is this? But she does dance splendidly." + +Knowing that Denisov had a reputation even in Poland for the +masterly way in which he danced the mazurka, Nicholas ran up to +Natasha: + +"Go and choose Denisov. He is a real dancer, a wonder!" he said. + +When it came to Natasha's turn to choose a partner, she rose and, +tripping rapidly across in her little shoes trimmed with bows, ran +timidly to the corner where Denisov sat. She saw that everybody was +looking at her and waiting. Nicholas saw that Denisov was refusing +though he smiled delightedly. He ran up to them. + +"Please, Vasili Dmitrich," Natasha was saying, "do come!" + +"Oh no, let me off, Countess," Denisov replied. + +"Now then, Vaska," said Nicholas. + +"They coax me as if I were Vaska the cat!" said Denisov jokingly. + +"I'll sing for you a whole evening," said Natasha. + +"Oh, the faiwy! She can do anything with me!" said Denisov, and he +unhooked his saber. He came out from behind the chairs, clasped his +partner's hand firmly, threw back his head, and advanced his foot, +waiting for the beat. Only on horse back and in the mazurka was +Denisov's short stature not noticeable and he looked the fine fellow +he felt himself to be. At the right beat of the music he looked +sideways at his partner with a merry and triumphant air, suddenly +stamped with one foot, bounded from the floor like a ball, and flew +round the room taking his partner with him. He glided silently on +one foot half across the room, and seeming not to notice the chairs +was dashing straight at them, when suddenly, clinking his spurs and +spreading out his legs, he stopped short on his heels, stood so a +second, stamped on the spot clanking his spurs, whirled rapidly round, +and, striking his left heel against his right, flew round again in a +circle. Natasha guessed what he meant to do, and abandoning herself to +him followed his lead hardly knowing how. First he spun her round, +holding her now with his left, now with his right hand, then falling +on one knee he twirled her round him, and again jumping up, dashed +so impetuously forward that it seemed as if he would rush through +the whole suite of rooms without drawing breath, and then he +suddenly stopped and performed some new and unexpected steps. When +at last, smartly whirling his partner round in front of her chair, +he drew up with a click of his spurs and bowed to her, Natasha did not +even make him a curtsy. She fixed her eyes on him in amazement, +smiling as if she did not recognize him. + +"What does this mean?" she brought out. + +Although Iogel did not acknowledge this to be the real mazurka, +everyone was delighted with Denisov's skill, he was asked again and +again as a partner, and the old men began smilingly to talk about +Poland and the good old days. Denisov, flushed after the mazurka and +mopping himself with his handkerchief, sat down by Natasha and did not +leave her for the rest of the evening. + +CHAPTER XIII + +For two days after that Rostov did not see Dolokhov at his own or at +Dolokhov's home: on the third day he received a note from him: + +As I do not intend to be at your house again for reasons you know +of, and am going to rejoin my regiment, I am giving a farewell +supper tonight to my friends- come to the English Hotel. + +About ten o'clock Rostov went to the English Hotel straight from the +theater, where he had been with his family and Denisov. He was at once +shown to the best room, which Dolokhov had taken for that evening. +Some twenty men were gathered round a table at which Dolokhov sat +between two candles. On the table was a pile of gold and paper +money, and he was keeping the bank. Rostov had not seen him since +his proposal and Sonya's refusal and felt uncomfortable at the thought +of how they would meet. + +Dolokhov's clear, cold glance met Rostov as soon as he entered the +door, as though he had long expected him. + +"It's a long time since we met," he said. "Thanks for coming. I'll +just finish dealing, and then Ilyushka will come with his chorus." + +"I called once or twice at your house," said Rostov, reddening. + +Dolokhov made no reply. + +"You may punt," he said. + +Rostov recalled at that moment a strange conversation he had once +had with Dolokhov. "None but fools trust to luck in play," Dolokhov +had then said. + +"Or are you afraid to play with me?" Dolokhov now asked as if +guessing Rostov's thought. + +Beneath his smile Rostov saw in him the mood he had shown at the +Club dinner and at other times, when as if tired of everyday life he +had felt a need to escape from it by some strange, and usually +cruel, action. + +Rostov felt ill at ease. He tried, but failed, to find some joke +with which to reply to Dolokhov's words. But before he had thought +of anything, Dolokhov, looking straight in his face, said slowly and +deliberately so that everyone could hear: + +"Do you remember we had a talk about cards... 'He's a fool who +trusts to luck, one should make certain,' and I want to try." + +"To try his luck or the certainty?" Rostov asked himself. + +"Well, you'd better not play," Dolokhov added, and springing a new +pack of cards said: "Bank, gentlemen!" + +Moving the money forward he prepared to deal. Rostov sat down by his +side and at first did not play. Dolokhov kept glancing at him. + +"Why don't you play?" he asked. + +And strange to say Nicholas felt that he could not help taking up +a card, putting a small stake on it, and beginning to play. + +"I have no money with me," he said. + +"I'll trust you." + +Rostov staked five rubles on a card and lost, staked again, and +again lost. Dolokhov "killed," that is, beat, ten cards of Rostov's +running. + +"Gentlemen," said Dolokhov after he had dealt for some time. "Please +place your money on the cards or I may get muddled in the reckoning." + +One of the players said he hoped he might be trusted. + +"Yes, you might, but I am afraid of getting the accounts mixed. So I +ask you to put the money on your cards," replied Dolokhov. "Don't +stint yourself, we'll settle afterwards," he added, turning to Rostov. + +The game continued; a waiter kept handing round champagne. + +All Rostov's cards were beaten and he had eight hundred rubles +scored up against him. He wrote "800 rubles" on a card, but while +the waiter filled his glass he changed his mind and altered it to +his usual stake of twenty rubles. + +"Leave it," said Dolokhov, though he did not seem to be even looking +at Rostov, "you'll win it back all the sooner. I lose to the others +but win from you. Or are you afraid of me?" he asked again. + +Rostov submitted. He let the eight hundred remain and laid down a +seven of hearts with a torn corner, which he had picked up from the +floor. He well remembered that seven afterwards. He laid down the +seven of hearts, on which with a broken bit of chalk he had written +"800 rubles" in clear upright figures; he emptied the glass of warm +champagne that was handed him, smiled at Dolokhov's words, and with +a sinking heart, waiting for a seven to turn up, gazed at Dolokhov's +hands which held the pack. Much depended on Rostov's winning or losing +on that seven of hearts. On the previous Sunday the old count had +given his son two thousand rubles, and though he always disliked +speaking of money difficulties had told Nicholas that this was all +he could let him have till May, and asked him to be more economical +this time. Nicholas had replied that it would be more than enough +for him and that he gave his word of honor not to take anything more +till the spring. Now only twelve hundred rubles was left of that +money, so that this seven of hearts meant for him not only the loss of +sixteen hundred rubles, but the necessity of going back on his word. +With a sinking heart he watched Dolokhov's hands and thought, "Now +then, make haste and let me have this card and I'll take my cap and +drive home to supper with Denisov, Natasha, and Sonya, and will +certainly never touch a card again." At that moment his home life, +jokes with Petya, talks with Sonya, duets with Natasha, piquet with +his father, and even his comfortable bed in the house on the +Povarskaya rose before him with such vividness, clearness, and charm +that it seemed as if it were all a lost and unappreciated bliss, +long past. He could not conceive that a stupid chance, letting the +seven be dealt to the right rather than to the left, might deprive him +of all this happiness, newly appreciated and newly illumined, and +plunge him into the depths of unknown and undefined misery. That could +not be, yet he awaited with a sinking heart the movement of Dolokhov's +hands. Those broad, reddish hands, with hairy wrists visible from +under the shirt cuffs, laid down the pack and took up a glass and a +pipe that were handed him. + +"So you are not afraid to play with me?" repeated Dolokhov, and as +if about to tell a good story he put down the cards, leaned back in +his chair, and began deliberately with a smile: + +"Yes, gentlemen, I've been told there's a rumor going about Moscow +that I'm a sharper, so I advise you to be careful." + +"Come now, deal!" exclaimed Rostov. + +"Oh, those Moscow gossips!" said Dolokhov, and he took up the +cards with a smile. + +"Aah!" Rostov almost screamed lifting both hands to his head. The +seven he needed was lying uppermost, the first card in the pack. He +had lost more than he could pay. + +"Still, don't ruin yourself!" said Dolokhov with a side glance at +Rostov as he continued to deal. + +CHAPTER XIV + +An hour and a half later most of the players were but little +interested in their own play. + +The whole interest was concentrated on Rostov. Instead of sixteen +hundred rubles he had a long column of figures scored against him, +which he had reckoned up to ten thousand, but that now, as he +vaguely supposed, must have risen to fifteen thousand. In reality it +already exceeded twenty thousand rubles. Dolokhov was no longer +listening to stories or telling them, but followed every movement of +Rostov's hands and occasionally ran his eyes over the score against +him. He had decided to play until that score reached forty-three +thousand. He had fixed on that number because forty-three was the +sum of his and Sonya's joint ages. Rostov, leaning his head on both +hands, sat at the table which was scrawled over with figures, wet with +spilled wine, and littered with cards. One tormenting impression did +not leave him: that those broad-boned reddish hands with hairy +wrists visible from under the shirt sleeves, those hands which he +loved and hated, held him in their power. + +"Six hundred rubles, ace, a corner, a nine... winning it back's +impossible... Oh, how pleasant it was at home!... The knave, double or +quits... it can't be!... And why is he doing this to me?" Rostov +pondered. Sometimes he staked a large sum, but Dolokhov refused to +accept it and fixed the stake himself. Nicholas submitted to him, +and at one moment prayed to God as he had done on the battlefield at +the bridge over the Enns, and then guessed that the card that came +first to hand from the crumpled heap under the table would save him, +now counted the cords on his coat and took a card with that number and +tried staking the total of his losses on it, then he looked round +for aid from the other players, or peered at the now cold face of +Dolokhov and tried to read what was passing in his mind. + +"He knows of course what this loss means to me. He can't want my +ruin. Wasn't he my friend? Wasn't I fond of him? But it's not his +fault. What's he to do if he has such luck?... And it's not my fault +either," he thought to himself, "I have done nothing wrong. Have I +killed anyone, or insulted or wished harm to anyone? Why such a +terrible misfortune? And when did it begin? Such a little while ago +I came to this table with the thought of winning a hundred rubles to +buy that casket for Mamma's name day and then going home. I was so +happy, so free, so lighthearted! And I did not realize how happy I +was! When did that end and when did this new, terrible state of things +begin? What marked the change? I sat all the time in this same place +at this table, chose and placed cards, and watched those broad-boned +agile hands in the same way. When did it happen and what has happened? +I am well and strong and still the same and in the same place. No, +it can't be! Surely it will all end in nothing!" + +He was flushed and bathed in perspiration, though the room was not +hot. His face was terrible and piteous to see, especially from its +helpless efforts to seem calm. + +The score against him reached the fateful sum of forty-three +thousand. Rostov had just prepared a card, by bending the corner of +which he meant to double the three thousand just put down to his +score, when Dolokhov, slamming down the pack of cards, put it aside +and began rapidly adding up the total of Rostov's debt, breaking the +chalk as he marked the figures in his clear, bold hand. + +"Supper, it's time for supper! And here are the gypsies!" + +Some swarthy men and women were really entering from the cold +outside and saying something in their gypsy accents. Nicholas +understood that it was all over; but he said in an indifferent tone: + +"Well, won't you go on? I had a splendid card all ready," as if it +were the fun of the game which interested him most. + +"It's all up! I'm lost!" thought he. "Now a bullet through my brain- +that's all that's left me! " And at the same time he said in a +cheerful voice: + +"Come now, just this one more little card!" + +"All right!" said Dolokhov, having finished the addition. "All +right! Twenty-one rubles," he said, pointing to the figure +twenty-one by which the total exceeded the round sum of forty-three +thousand; and taking up a pack he prepared to deal. Rostov +submissively unbent the corner of his card and, instead of the six +thousand he had intended, carefully wrote twenty-one. + +"It's all the same to me," he said. "I only want to see whether +you will let me win this ten, or beat it." + +Dolokhov began to deal seriously. Oh, how Rostov detested at that +moment those hands with their short reddish fingers and hairy +wrists, which held him in their power.... The ten fell to him. + +"You owe forty-three thousand, Count," said Dolokhov, and stretching +himself he rose from the table. "One does get tired sitting so +long," he added. + +"Yes, I'm tired too," said Rostov. + +Dolokhov cut him short, as if to remind him that it was not for +him to jest. + +"When am I to receive the money, Count?" + +Rostov, flushing, drew Dolokhov into the next room. + +"I cannot pay it all immediately. Will you take an I.O.U.?" he said. + +"I say, Rostov," said Dolokhov clearly, smiling and looking Nicholas +straight in the eyes, "you know the saying, 'Lucky in love, unlucky at +cards.' Your cousin is in love with you, I know." + +"Oh, it's terrible to feel oneself so in this man's power," +thought Rostov. He knew what a shock he would inflict on his father +and mother by the news of this loss, he knew what a relief it would be +to escape it all, and felt that Dolokhov knew that he could save him +from all this shame and sorrow, but wanted now to play with him as a +cat does with a mouse. + +"Your cousin..." Dolokhov started to say, but Nicholas interrupted +him. + +"My cousin has nothing to do with this and it's not necessary to +mention her!" he exclaimed fiercely. + +"Then when am I to have it?" + +"Tomorrow," replied Rostov and left the room. + +CHAPTER XV + +To say "tomorrow" and keep up a dignified tone was not difficult, +but to go home alone, see his sisters, brother, mother, and father, +confess and ask for money he had no right to after giving his word +of honor, was terrible. + +At home, they had not yet gone to bed. The young people, after +returning from the theater, had had supper and were grouped round +the clavichord. As soon as Nicholas entered, he was enfolded in that +poetic atmosphere of love which pervaded the Rostov household that +winter and, now after Dolokhov's proposal and Iogel's ball, seemed +to have grown thicker round Sonya and Natasha as the air does before a +thunderstorm. Sonya and Natasha, in the light-blue dresses they had +worn at the theater, looking pretty and conscious of it, were standing +by the clavichord, happy and smiling. Vera was playing chess with +Shinshin in the drawing room. The old countess, waiting for the return +of her husband and son, sat playing patience with the old +gentlewoman who lived in their house. Denisov, with sparkling eyes and +ruffled hair, sat at the clavichord striking chords with his short +fingers, his legs thrown back and his eyes rolling as he sang, with +his small, husky, but true voice, some verses called "Enchantress," +which he had composed, and to which he was trying to fit music: + +_1 Enchantress, say, to my forsaken lyre<br> +What magic power is this recalls me still?<br> +What spark has set my inmost soul on fire,<br> +What is this bliss that makes my fingers thrill? + +He was singing in passionate tones, gazing with gazing with his +sparkling black-agate eyes at the frightened and happy Natasha. + +"Splendid! Excellent!" exclaimed Natasha. "Another verse, she +said, without noticing Nicholas. + +"Everything's still the same with them," thought Nicholas, +glancing into the drawing room, where he saw Vera and his mother +with the old lady. + +"Ah, and here's Nicholas!" cried Natasha, running up to him. + +"Is Papa at home?" he asked. + +"I am so glad you've come!" said Natasha, without answering him. "We +are enjoying ourselves! Vasili Dmitrich is staying a day longer for my +sake! Did you know?" + +"No, Papa is not back yet," said Sonya. + +"Nicholas, have you come? Come here, dear!" called the old +countess from the drawing room. + +Nicholas went to her, kissed her hand, and sitting down silently +at her table began to watch her hands arranging the cards. From the +dancing room, they still heard the laughter and merry voices trying to +persuade Natasha to sing. + +"All wight! All wight!" shouted Denisov. "It's no good making +excuses now! It's your turn to sing the ba'cawolla- I entweat you!" + +The countess glanced at her silent son. + +"What is the matter?" she asked. + +"Oh, nothing," said he, as if weary of being continually asked the +same question. "Will Papa be back soon?" + +"I expect so." + +"Everything's the same with them. They know nothing about it! +Where am I to go?" thought Nicholas, and went again into the dancing +room where the clavichord stood. + +Sonya was sitting at the clavichord, playing the prelude to +Denisov's favorite barcarolle. Natasha was preparing to sing. +Denisov was looking at her with enraptured eyes. + +Nicholas began pacing up and down the room. + +"Why do they want to make her sing? How can she sing? There's +nothing to be happy about!" thought he. + +Sonya struck the first chord of the prelude. + +"My God, I'm a ruined and dishonored man! A bullet through my +brain is the only thing left me- not singing! " his thoughts ran on. +"Go away? But where to? It's one- let them sing!" + +He continued to pace the room, looking gloomily at Denisov and the +girls and avoiding their eyes. + +"Nikolenka, what is the matter?" Sonya's eyes fixed on him seemed to +ask. She noticed at once that something had happened to him. + +Nicholas turned away from her. Natasha too, with her quick instinct, +had instantly noticed her brother's condition. But, though she noticed +it, she was herself in such high spirits at that moment, so far from +sorrow, sadness, or self-reproach, that she purposely deceived herself +as young people often do. "No, I am too happy now to spoil my +enjoyment by sympathy with anyone's sorrow," she felt, and she said to +herself: "No, I must be mistaken, he must be feeling happy, just as +I am." + +"Now, Sonya!" she said, going to the very middle of the room, +where she considered the resonance was best. + +Having lifted her head and let her arms droop lifelessly, as +ballet dancers do, Natasha, rising energetically from her heels to her +toes, stepped to the middle of the room and stood still. + +"Yes, that's me!" she seemed to say, answering the rapt gaze with +which Denisov followed her. + +"And what is she so pleased about?" thought Nicholas, looking at his +sister. "Why isn't she dull and ashamed?" + +Natasha took the first note, her throat swelled, her chest rose, her +eyes became serious. At that moment she was oblivious of her +surroundings, and from her smiling lips flowed sounds which anyone may +produce at the same intervals hold for the same time, but which +leave you cold a thousand times and the thousand and first time thrill +you and make you weep. + +Natasha, that winter, had for the first time begun to sing +seriously, mainly because Denisov so delighted in her singing. She +no longer sang as a child, there was no longer in her singing that +comical, childish, painstaking effect that had been in it before; +but she did not yet sing well, as all the connoisseurs who heard her +said: "It is not trained, but it is a beautiful voice that must be +trained." Only they generally said this some time after she had +finished singing. While that untrained voice, with its incorrect +breathing and labored transitions, was sounding, even the connoisseurs +said nothing, but only delighted in it and wished to hear it again. In +her voice there was a virginal freshness, an unconsciousness of her +own powers, and an as yet untrained velvety softness, which so mingled +with her lack of art in singing that it seemed as if nothing in that +voice could be altered without spoiling it. + +"What is this?" thought Nicholas, listening to her with widely +opened eyes. "What has happened to her? How she is singing today!" And +suddenly the whole world centered for him on anticipation of the +next note, the next phrase, and everything in the world was divided +into three beats: "Oh mio crudele affetto."... One, two, three... one, +two, three... One... "Oh mio crudele affetto."... One, two, three... +One. "Oh, this senseless life of ours!" thought Nicholas. "All this +misery, and money, and Dolokhov, and anger, and honor- it's all +nonsense... but this is real.... Now then, Natasha, now then, dearest! +Now then, darling! How will she take that si? She's taken it! Thank +God!" And without noticing that he was singing, to strengthen the si +he sung a second, a third below the high note. "Ah, God! How fine! Did +I really take it? How fortunate!" he thought. + +Oh, how that chord vibrated, and how moved was something that was +finest in Rostov's soul! And this something was apart from +everything else in the world and above everything in the world. +"What were losses, and Dolokhov, and words of honor?... All +nonsense! One might kill and rob and yet be happy..." + +CHAPTER XVI + +It was long since Rostov had felt such enjoyment from music as he +did that day. But no sooner had Natasha finished her barcarolle than +reality again presented itself. He got up without saying a word and +went downstairs to his own room. A quarter of an hour later the old +count came in from his Club, cheerful and contented. Nicholas, hearing +him drive up, went to meet him. + +"Well- had a good time?" said the old count, smiling gaily and +proudly at his son. + +Nicholas tried to say "Yes," but could not: and he nearly burst into +sobs. The count was lighting his pipe and did not notice his son's +condition. + +"Ah, it can't be avoided!" thought Nicholas, for the first and +last time. And suddenly, in the most casual tone, which made him +feel ashamed feel of himself, he said, as if merely asking his +father to let him have the carriage to drive to town: + +"Papa, I have come on a matter of business. I was nearly forgetting. +I need some money." + +"Dear me!" said his father, who was in a specially good humor. "I +told you it would not be enough. How much?" + +"Very much," said Nicholas flushing, and with a stupid careless +smile, for which he was long unable to forgive himself, "I have lost a +little, I mean a good deal, a great deal- forty three thousand." + +"What! To whom?... Nonsense!" cried the count, suddenly reddening +with an apoplectic flush over neck and nape as old people do. + +"I promised to pay tomorrow," said Nicholas. + +"Well!..." said the old count, spreading out his arms and sinking +helplessly on the sofa. + +"It can't be helped It happens to everyone!" said the son, with a +bold, free, and easy tone, while in his soul he regarded himself as +a worthless scoundrel whose whole life could not atone for his +crime. He longed to kiss his father's hands and kneel to beg his +forgiveness, but said, in a careless and even rude voice, that it +happens to everyone! + +The old count cast down his eyes on hearing his son's words and +began bustlingly searching for something. + +"Yes, yes," he muttered, "it will be difficult, I fear, difficult to +raise... happens to everybody! Yes, who has not done it?" + +And with a furtive glance at his son's face, the count went out of +the room.... Nicholas had been prepared for resistance, but had not at +all expected this. + +"Papa! Pa-pa!" he called after him, sobbing, "forgive me!" And +seizing his father's hand, he pressed it to his lips and burst into +tears. + +While father and son were having their explanation, the mother and +daughter were having one not less important. Natasha came running to +her mother, quite excited. + +"Mamma!... Mamma!... He has made me..." + +"Made what?" + +"Made, made me an offer, Mamma! Mamma!" she exclaimed. + +The countess did not believe her ears. Denisov had proposed. To +whom? To this chit of a girl, Natasha, who not so long ago was playing +with dolls and who was still having lessons. + +"Don't, Natasha! What nonsense!" she said, hoping it was a joke. + +"Nonsense, indeed! I am telling you the fact," said Natasha +indignantly. "I come to ask you what to do, and you call it +'nonsense!'" + +The countess shrugged her shoulders. + +"If it true that Monsieur Denisov has made you a proposal, tell +him he is a fool, that's all!" + +"No, he's not a fool!" replied Natasha indignantly and seriously. + +"Well then, what do you want? You're all in love nowadays. Well, +if you are in love, marry him!" said the countess, with a laugh of +annoyance. "Good luck to you!" + +"No, Mamma, I'm not in love with him, I suppose I'm not in love with +him." + +"Well then, tell him so." + +"Mamma, are you cross? Don't be cross, dear! Is it my fault?" + +"No, but what is it, my dear? Do you want me to go and tell him?" +said the countess smiling. + +"No, I will do it myself, only tell me what to say. It's all very +well for you," said Natasha, with a responsive smile. "You should have +seen how he said it! I know he did not mean to say it, but it came out +accidently." + +"Well, all the same, you must refuse him." + +"No, I mustn't. I am so sorry for him! He's so nice." + +"Well then, accept his offer. It's high time for you to be married," +answered the countess sharply and sarcastically. + +"No, Mamma, but I'm so sorry for him. I don't know how I'm to say +it." + +"And there's nothing for you to say. I shall speak to him myself," +said the countess, indignant that they should have dared to treat this +little Natasha as grown up. + +"No, not on any account! I will tell him myself, and you'll listen +at the door," and Natasha ran across the drawing room to the dancing +hall, where Denisov was sitting on the same chair by the clavichord +with his face in his hands. + +He jumped up at the sound of her light step. + +"Nataly," he said, moving with rapid steps toward her, "decide my +fate. It is in your hands." + +"Vasili Dmitrich, I'm so sorry for you!... No, but you are so +nice... but it won't do...not that... but as a friend, I shall +always love you." + +Denisov bent over her hand and she heard strange sounds she did +not understand. She kissed his rough curly black head. At this +instant, they heard the quick rustle of the countess' dress. She +came up to them. + +"Vasili Dmitrich, I thank you for the honor," she said, with an +embarrassed voice, though it sounded severe to Denisov- "but my +daughter is so young, and I thought that, as my son's friend, you +would have addressed yourself first to me. In that case you would +not have obliged me to give this refusal." + +"Countess..." said Denisov, with downcast eyes and a guilty face. He +tried to say more, but faltered. + +Natasha could not remain calm, seeing him in such a plight. She +began to sob aloud. + +"Countess, I have done w'ong," Denisov went on in an unsteady voice, +"but believe me, I so adore your daughter and all your family that I +would give my life twice over..." He looked at the countess, and +seeing her severe face said: "Well, good-by, Countess," and kissing +her hand, he left the room with quick resolute strides, without +looking at Natasha. + +Next day Rostov saw Denisov off. He not wish to stay another day +in Moscow. All Denisov's Moscow friends gave him a farewell +entertainment at the gypsies', with the result that he had no +recollection of how he was put in the sleigh or of the first three +stages of his journey. + +After Denisov's departure, Rostov spent another fortnight in Moscow, +without going out of the house, waiting for the money his father could +not at once raise, and he spent most of his time in the girls' room. + +Sonya was more tender and devoted to him than ever. It was as if she +wanted to show him that his losses were an achievement that made her +love him all the more, but Nicholas now considered himself unworthy of +her. + +He filled the girls' albums with verses and music, and having at +last sent Dolokhov the whole forty-three thousand rubles and +received his receipt, he left at the end of November, without taking +leave of any of his acquaintances, to overtake his regiment which +was already in Poland. + +BOOK FIVE: 1806 - 07 + +CHAPTER I + +After his interview with his wife Pierre left for Petersburg. At the +Torzhok post station, either there were no horses or the postmaster +would not supply them. Pierre was obliged to wait. Without undressing, +he lay down on the leather sofa in front of a round table, put his big +feet in their overboots on the table, and began to reflect. + +"Will you have the portmanteaus brought in? And a bed got ready, and +tea?" asked his valet. + +Pierre gave no answer, for he neither heard nor saw anything. He had +begun to think of the last station and was still pondering on the same +question- one so important that he took no notice of what went on +around him. Not only was he indifferent as to whether he got to +Petersburg earlier or later, or whether he secured accommodation at +this station, but compared to the thoughts that now occupied him it +was a matter of indifference whether he remained there for a few hours +or for the rest of his life. + +The postmaster, his wife, the valet, and a peasant woman selling +Torzhok embroidery came into the room offering their services. Without +changing his careless attitude, Pierre looked at them over his +spectacles unable to understand what they wanted or how they could +go on living without having solved the problems that so absorbed +him. He had been engrossed by the same thoughts ever since the day +he returned from Sokolniki after the duel and had spent that first +agonizing, sleepless night. But now, in the solitude of the journey, +they seized him with special force. No matter what he thought about, +he always returned to these same questions which he could not solve +and yet could not cease to ask himself. It was as if the thread of the +chief screw which held his life together were stripped, so that the +screw could not get in or out, but went on turning uselessly in the +same place. + +The postmaster came in and began obsequiously to beg his +excellency to wait only two hours, when, come what might, he would let +his excellency have the courier horses. It was plain that he was lying +and only wanted to get more money from the traveler. + +"Is this good or bad?" Pierre asked himself. "It is good for me, bad +for another traveler, and for himself it's unavoidable, because he +needs money for food; the man said an officer had once given him a +thrashing for letting a private traveler have the courier horses. +But the officer thrashed him because he had to get on as quickly as +possible. And I," continued Pierre, "shot Dolokhov because I +considered myself injured, and Louis XVI was executed because they +considered him a criminal, and a year later they executed those who +executed him- also for some reason. What is bad? What is good? What +should one love and what hate? What does one live for? And what am +I? What is life, and what is death? What power governs all?" + +There was no answer to any of these questions, except one, and +that not a logical answer and not at all a reply to them. The answer +was: "You'll die and all will end. You'll die and know all, or cease +asking." But dying was also dreadful. + +The Torzhok peddler woman, in a whining voice, went on offering +her wares, especially a pair of goatskin slippers. "I have hundreds of +rubles I don't know what to do with, and she stands in her tattered +cloak looking timidly at me," he thought. "And what does she want +the money for? As if that money could add a hair's breadth to +happiness or peace of mind. Can anything in the world make her or me +less a prey to evil and death?- death which ends all and must come +today or tomorrow- at any rate, in an instant as compared with +eternity." And again he twisted the screw with the stripped thread, +and again it turned uselessly in the same place. + +His servant handed him a half-cut novel, in the form of letters, +by Madame de Souza. He began reading about the sufferings and virtuous +struggles of a certain Emilie de Mansfeld. "And why did she resist her +seducer when she loved him?" he thought. "God could not have put +into her heart an impulse that was against His will. My wife- as she +once was- did not struggle, and perhaps she was right. Nothing has +been found out, nothing discovered," Pierre again said to himself. +"All we can know is that we know nothing. And that's the height of +human wisdom." + +Everything within and around him seemed confused, senseless, and +repellent. Yet in this very repugnance to all his circumstances Pierre +found a kind of tantalizing satisfaction. + +"I make bold to ask your excellency to move a little for this +gentleman," said the postmaster, entering the room followed by another +traveler, also detained for lack of horses. + +The newcomer was a short, large-boned, yellow-faced, wrinkled old +man, with gray bushy eyebrows overhanging bright eyes of an indefinite +grayish color. + +Pierre took his feet off the table, stood up, and lay down on a +bed that had been got ready for him, glancing now and then at the +newcomer, who, with a gloomy and tired face, was wearily taking off +his wraps with the aid of his servant, and not looking at Pierre. With +a pair of felt boots on his thin bony legs, and keeping on a worn, +nankeen-covered, sheepskin coat, the traveler sat down on the sofa, +leaned back his big head with its broad temples and close-cropped +hair, and looked at Bezukhov. The stern, shrewd, and penetrating +expression of that look struck Pierre. He felt a wish to speak to +the stranger, but by the time he had made up his mind to ask him a +question about the roads, the traveler had closed his eyes. His +shriveled old hands were folded and on the finger of one of them +Pierre noticed a large cast iron ring with a seal representing a +death's head. The stranger sat without stirring, either resting or, as +it seemed to Pierre, sunk in profound and calm meditation. His servant +was also a yellow, wrinkled old man, without beard or mustache, +evidently not because he was shaven but because they had never +grown. This active old servant was unpacking the traveler's canteen +and preparing tea. He brought in a boiling samovar. When everything +was ready, the stranger opened his eyes, moved to the table, filled +a tumbler with tea for himself and one for the beardless old man to +whom he passed it. Pierre began to feel a sense of uneasiness, and the +need, even the inevitability, of entering into conversation with +this stranger. + +The servant brought back his tumbler turned upside down,~^ with an +unfinished bit of nibbled sugar, and asked if anything more would be +wanted. + +^~ To indicate he did not want more tea. + +"No. Give me the book," said the stranger. + +The servant handed him a book which Pierre took to be a devotional +work, and the traveler became absorbed in it. Pierre looked at him. +All at once the stranger closed the book, putting in a marker, and +again, leaning with his arms on the back of the sofa, sat in his +former position with his eyes shut. Pierre looked at him and had not +time to turn away when the old man, opening his eyes, fixed his steady +and severe gaze straight on Pierre's face. + +Pierre felt confused and wished to avoid that look, but the bright +old eyes attracted him irresistibly. + +CHAPTER II + +"I have the pleasure of addressing Count Bezukhov, if I am not +mistaken," said the stranger in a deliberate and loud voice. + +Pierre looked silently and inquiringly at him over his spectacles. + +"I have heard of you, my dear sir, "continued the stranger, "and +of your misfortune." He seemed to emphasize the last word, as if to +say- "Yes, misfortune! Call it what you please, I know that what +happened to you in Moscow was a misfortune."- "I regret it very +much, my dear sir." + +Pierre flushed and, hurriedly putting his legs down from the bed, +bent forward toward the old man with a forced and timid smile. + +"I have not referred to this out of curiosity, my dear sir, but +for greater reasons." + +He paused, his gaze still on Pierre, and moved aside on the sofa +by way of inviting the other to take a seat beside him. Pierre felt +reluctant to enter into conversation with this old man, but, +submitting to him involuntarily, came up and sat down beside him. + +"You are unhappy, my dear sir," the stranger continued. "You are +young and I am old. I should like to help you as far as lies in my +power." + +"Oh, yes!" said Pierre, with a forced smile. "I am very grateful +to you. Where are you traveling from?" + +The stranger's face was not genial, it was even cold and severe, but +in spite of this, both the face and words of his new acquaintance were +irresistibly attractive to Pierre. + +"But if for reason you don't feel inclined to talk to me," said +the old man, "say so, my dear sir." And he suddenly smiled, in an +unexpected and tenderly paternal way. + +"Oh no, not at all! On the contrary, I am very glad to make your +acquaintance," said Pierre. And again, glancing at the stranger's +hands, he looked more closely at the ring, with its skull- a Masonic +sign. + +"Allow me to ask," he said, "are you a Mason?" + +"Yes, I belong to the Brotherhood of the Freemasons," said the +stranger, looking deeper and deeper into Pierre's eyes. "And in +their name and my own I hold out a brotherly hand to you." + +"I am afraid," said Pierre, smiling, and wavering between the +confidence the personality of the Freemason inspired in him and his +own habit of ridiculing the Masonic beliefs- "I am afraid I am very +far from understanding- how am I to put it?- I am afraid my way of +looking at the world is so opposed to yours that we shall not +understand one another." + +"I know your outlook," said the Mason, "and the view of life you +mention, and which you think is the result of your own mental efforts, +is the one held by the majority of people, and is the invariable fruit +of pride, indolence, and ignorance. Forgive me, my dear sir, but if +I had not known it I should not have addressed you. Your view of +life is a regrettable delusion." + +"Just as I may suppose you to be deluded," said Pierre, with a faint +smile. + +"I should never dare to say that I know the truth," said the +Mason, whose words struck Pierre more and more by their precision +and firmness. "No one can attain to truth by himself. Only by laying +stone on stone with the cooperation of all, by the millions of +generations from our forefather Adam to our own times, is that +temple reared which is to be a worthy dwelling place of the Great +God," he added, and closed his eyes. + +"I ought to tell you that I do not believe... do not believe in God, +said Pierre, regretfully and with an effort, feeling it essential to +speak the whole truth. + +The Mason looked intently at Pierre and smiled as a rich man with +millions in hand might smile at a poor fellow who told him that he, +poor man, had not the five rubles that would make him happy. + +"Yes, you do not know Him, my dear sir," said the Mason. "You cannot +know Him. You do not know Him and that is why you are unhappy." + +"Yes, yes, I am unhappy," assented Pierre. "But what am I to do?" + +"You know Him not, my dear sir, and so you are very unhappy. You +do not know Him, but He is here, He is in me, He is in my words, He is +in thee, and even in those blasphemous words thou hast just +uttered!" pronounced the Mason in a stern and tremulous voice. + +He paused and sighed, evidently trying to calm himself. + +"If He were not," he said quietly, "you and I would not be +speaking of Him, my dear sir. Of what, of whom, are we speaking? +Whom hast thou denied?" he suddenly asked with exulting austerity +and authority in his voice. "Who invented Him, if He did not exist? +Whence came thy conception of the existence of such an +incomprehensible Being? didst thou, and why did the whole world, +conceive the idea of the existence of such an incomprehensible +Being, a Being all-powerful, eternal, and infinite in all His +attributes?..." + +He stopped and remained silent for a long time. + +Pierre could not and did not wish to break this silence. + +"He exists, but to understand Him is hard," the Mason began again, +looking not at Pierre but straight before him, and turning the +leaves of his book with his old hands which from excitement he could +not keep still. "If it were a man whose existence thou didst doubt I +could bring him to thee, could take him by the hand and show him to +thee. But how can I, an insignificant mortal, show His omnipotence, +His infinity, and all His mercy to one who is blind, or who shuts +his eyes that he may not see or understand Him and may not see or +understand his own vileness and sinfulness?" He paused again. "Who art +thou? Thou dreamest that thou art wise because thou couldst utter +those blasphemous words," he went on, with a somber and scornful +smile. "And thou art more foolish and unreasonable than a little +child, who, playing with the parts of a skillfully made watch, dares +to say that, as he does not understand its use, he does not believe in +the master who made it. To know Him is hard.... For ages, from our +forefather Adam to our own day, we labor to attain that knowledge +and are still infinitely far from our aim; but in our lack of +understanding we see only our weakness and His greatness...." + +Pierre listened with swelling heart, gazing into the Mason's face +with shining eyes, not interrupting or questioning him, but +believing with his whole soul what the stranger said. Whether he +accepted the wise reasoning contained in the Mason's words, or +believed as a child believes, in the speaker's tone of conviction +and earnestness, or the tremor of the speaker's voice- which sometimes +almost broke- or those brilliant aged eyes grown old in this +conviction, or the calm firmness and certainty of his vocation, +which radiated from his whole being (and which struck Pierre +especially by contrast with his own dejection and hopelessness)- at +any rate, Pierre longed with his whole soul to believe and he did +believe, and felt a joyful sense of comfort, regeneration, and +return to life. + +"He is not to be apprehended by reason, but by life," said the +Mason. + +"I do not understand," said Pierre, feeling with dismay doubts +reawakening. He was afraid of any want of clearness, any weakness, +in the Mason's arguments; he dreaded not to be able to believe in him. +"I don't understand," he said, "how it is that the mind of man +cannot attain the knowledge of which you speak." + +The Mason smiled with his gentle fatherly smile. + +"The highest wisdom and truth are like the purest liquid we may wish +to imbibe," he said. "Can I receive that pure liquid into an impure +vessel and judge of its purity? Only by the inner purification of +myself can I retain in some degree of purity the liquid I receive." + +"Yes, yes, that is so," said Pierre joyfully. + +"The highest wisdom is not founded on reason alone, not on those +worldly sciences of physics, history, chemistry, and the like, into +which intellectual knowledge is divided. The highest wisdom is one. +The highest wisdom has but one science- the science of the whole- +the science explaining the whole creation and man's place in it. To +receive that science it is necessary to purify and renew one's inner +self, and so before one can know, it is necessary to believe and to +perfect one's self. And to attain this end, we have the light called +conscience that God has implanted in our souls." + +"Yes, yes," assented Pierre. + +"Look then at thy inner self with the eyes of the spirit, and ask +thyself whether thou art content with thyself. What hast thou attained +relying on reason only? What art thou? You are young, you are rich, +you are clever, you are well educated. And what have you done with all +these good gifts? Are you content with yourself and with your life?" + +"No, I hate my life," Pierre muttered, wincing. + +"Thou hatest it. Then change it, purify thyself; and as thou art +purified, thou wilt gain wisdom. Look at your life, my dear sir. How +have you spent it? In riotous orgies and debauchery, receiving +everything from society and giving nothing in return. You have +become the possessor of wealth. How have you used it? What have you +done for your neighbor? Have you ever thought of your tens of +thousands of slaves? Have you helped them physically and morally? +No! You have profited by their toil to lead a profligate life. That is +what you have done. Have you chosen a post in which you might be of +service to your neighbor? No! You have spent your life in idleness. +Then you married, my dear sir- took on yourself responsibility for the +guidance of a young woman; and what have you done? You have not helped +her to find the way of truth, my dear sir, but have thrust her into an +abyss of deceit and misery. A man offended you and you shot him, and +you say you do not know God and hate your life. There is nothing +strange in that, my dear sir!" + +After these words, the Mason, as if tired by his long discourse, +again leaned his arms on the back of the sofa and closed his eyes. +Pierre looked at that aged, stern, motionless, almost lifeless face +and moved his lips without uttering a sound. He wished to say, "Yes, a +vile, idle, vicious life!" but dared not break the silence. + +The Mason cleared his throat huskily, as old men do, and called +his servant. + +"How about the horses?" he asked, without looking at Pierre. + +"The exchange horses have just come," answered the servant. "Will +you not rest here?" + +"No, tell them to harness." + +"Can he really be going away leaving me alone without having told me +all, and without promising to help me?" thought Pierre, rising with +downcast head; and he began to pace the room, glancing occasionally at +the Mason. "Yes, I never thought of it, but I have led a +contemptible and profligate life, though I did not like it and did not +want to," thought Pierre. "But this man knows the truth and, if he +wished to, could disclose it to me." + +Pierre wished to say this to the Mason, but did not dare to. The +traveler, having packed his things with his practiced hands, began +fastening his coat. When he had finished, he turned to Bezukhov, and +said in a tone of indifferent politeness: + +"Where are you going to now, my dear sir?" + +"I?... I'm going to Petersburg," answered Pierre, in a childlike, +hesitating voice. "I thank you. I agree with all you have said. But do +not suppose me to be so bad. With my whole soul I wish to be what +you would have me be, but I have never had help from anyone.... But it +is I, above all, who am to blame for everything. Help me, teach me, +and perhaps I may..." + +Pierre could not go on. He gulped and turned away. + +The Mason remained silent for a long time, evidently considering. + +"Help comes from God alone," he said, "but such measure of help as +our Order can bestow it will render you, my dear sir. You are going to +Petersburg. Hand this to Count Willarski" (he took out his notebook +and wrote a few words on a large sheet of paper folded in four). +"Allow me to give you a piece of advice. When you reach the capital, +first of all devote some time to solitude and self-examination and +do not resume your former way of life. And now I wish you a good +journey, my dear sir," he added, seeing that his servant had +entered... "and success." + +The traveler was Joseph Alexeevich Bazdeev, as Pierre saw from the +postmaster's book. Bazdeev had been one of the best-known Freemasons +and Martinists, even in Novikov's time. For a long while after he +had gone, Pierre did not go to bed or order horses but paced up and +down the room, pondering over his vicious past, and with a rapturous +sense of beginning anew pictured to himself the blissful, +irreproachable, virtuous future that seemed to him so easy. It +seemed to him that he had been vicious only because he had somehow +forgotten how good it is to be virtuous. Not a trace of his former +doubts remained in his soul. He firmly believed in the possibility +of the brotherhood of men united in the aim of supporting one +another in the path of virtue, and that is how Freemasonry presented +itself to him. + +CHAPTER III + +On reaching Petersburg Pierre did not let anyone know of his +arrival, he went nowhere and spent whole days in reading Thomas a +Kempis, whose book had been sent him by someone unknown. One thing +he continually realized as he read that book: the joy, hitherto +unknown to him, of believing in the possibility of attaining +perfection, and in the possibility of active brotherly love among men, +which Joseph Alexeevich had revealed to him. A week after his arrival, +the young Polish count, Willarski, whom Pierre had known slightly in +Petersburg society, came into his room one evening in the official and +ceremonious manner in which Dolokhov's second had called on him, +and, having closed the door behind him and satisfied himself that +there was nobody else in the room, addressed Pierre. + +"I have come to you with a message and an offer, Count," he said +without sitting down. "A person of very high standing in our +Brotherhood has made application for you to be received into our Order +before the usual term and has proposed to me to be your sponsor. I +consider it a sacred duty to fulfill that person's wishes. Do you wish +to enter the Brotherhood of Freemasons under my sponsorship?" + +The cold, austere tone of this man, whom he had almost always +before met at balls, amiably smiling in the society of the most +brilliant women, surprised Pierre. + +"Yes, I do wish it," said he. + +Willarski bowed his head. + +"One more question, Count," he said, "which beg you to answer in all +sincerity- not as a future Mason but as an honest man: have you +renounced your former convictions- do you believe in God?" + +Pierre considered. + +"Yes... yes, I believe in God," he said. + +"In that case..." began Willarski, but Pierre interrupted him. + +"Yes, I do believe in God," he repeated. + +"In that case we can go," said Willarski. "My carriage is at your +service." + +Willarski was silent throughout the drive. To Pierre's inquiries +as to what he must do and how he should answer, Willarski only replied +that brothers more worthy than he would test him and that Pierre had +only to tell the truth. + +Having entered the courtyard of a large house where the Lodge had +its headquarters, and having ascended a dark staircase, they entered a +small well-lit anteroom where they took off their cloaks without the +aid of a servant. From there they passed into another room. A man in +strange attire appeared at the door. Willarski, stepping toward him, +said something to him in French in an undertone and then went up to +a small wardrobe in which Pierre noticed garments such as he had never +seen before. Having taken a kerchief from the cupboard, Willarski +bound Pierre's eyes with it and tied it in a knot behind, catching +some hairs painfully in the knot. Then he drew his face down, kissed +him, and taking him by the hand led him forward. The hairs tied in the +knot hurt Pierre and there were lines of pain on his face and a +shamefaced smile. His huge figure, with arms hanging down and with a +puckered, though smiling face, moved after Willarski with uncertain, +timid steps. + +Having led him about ten paces, Willarski stopped. + +"Whatever happens to you," he said, "you must bear it all manfully +if you have firmly resolved to join our Brotherhood." (Pierre nodded +affirmatively.) "When you hear a knock at the door, you will uncover +your eyes," added Willarski. "I wish you courage and success," and, +pressing Pierre's hand, he went out. + +Left alone, Pierre went on smiling in the same way. Once or twice he +shrugged his and raised his hand to the kerchief, as if wishing to +take it off, but let it drop again. The five minutes spent with his +eyes bandaged seemed to him an hour. His arms felt numb, his legs +almost gave way, it seemed to him that he was tired out. He +experienced a variety of most complex sensations. He felt afraid of +what would happen to him and still more afraid of showing his fear. He +felt curious to know what was going to happen and what would be +revealed to him; but most of all, he felt joyful that the moment had +come when he would at last start on that path of regeneration and on +the actively virtuous life of which he had been dreaming since he +met Joseph Alexeevich. Loud knocks were heard at the door. Pierre took +the bandage off his eyes and glanced around him. The room was in black +darkness, only a small lamp was burning inside something white. Pierre +went nearer and saw that the lamp stood on a black table on which +lay an open book. The book was the Gospel, and the white thing with +the lamp inside was a human skull with its cavities and teeth. After +reading the first words of the Gospel: "In the beginning was the +Word and the Word was with God," Pierre went round the table and saw a +large open box filled with something. It was a coffin with bones +inside. He was not at all surprised by what he saw. Hoping to enter on +an entirely new life quite unlike the old one, he expected +everything to be unusual, even more unusual than what he was seeing. A +skull, a coffin, the Gospel- it seemed to him that he had expected all +this and even more. Trying to stimulate his emotions he looked around. +"God, death, love, the brotherhood of man," he kept saying to himself, +associating these words with vague yet joyful ideas. The door opened +and someone came in. + +By the dim light, to which Pierre had already become accustomed, +he saw rather short man. Having evidently come from the light into the +darkness, the man paused, then moved with cautious steps toward the +table and placed on it his small leather-gloved hands. + +This short man had on a white leather apron which covered his +chest and part of his legs; he had on a kind of necklace above which +rose a high white ruffle, outlining his rather long face which was lit +up from below. + +"For what have you come hither?" asked the newcomer, turning in +Pierre's direction at a slight rustle made by the latter. "Why have +you, who do not believe in the truth of the light and who have not +seen the light, come here? What do you seek from us? Wisdom, virtue, +enlightenment?" + +At the moment the door opened and the stranger came in, Pierre +felt a sense of awe and veneration such as he had experienced in his +boyhood at confession; he felt himself in the presence of one socially +a complete stranger, yet nearer to him through the brotherhood of man. +With bated breath and beating heart he moved toward the Rhetor (by +which name the brother who prepared a seeker for entrance into the +Brotherhood was known). Drawing nearer, he recognized in the Rhetor +a man he knew, Smolyaninov, and it mortified him to think that the +newcomer was an acquaintance- he wished him simply a brother and a +virtuous instructor. For a long time he could not utter a word, so +that the Rhetor had to repeat his question. + +"Yes... I... I... desire regeneration," Pierre uttered with +difficulty. + +"Very well," said Smolyaninov, and went on at once: "Have you any +idea of the means by which our holy Order will help you to reach +your aim?" said he quietly and quickly. + +"I... hope... for guidance... help... in regeneration," said Pierre, +with a trembling voice and some difficulty in utterance due to his +excitement and to being unaccustomed to speak of abstract matters in +Russian. + +"What is your conception of Freemasonry?" + +"I imagine that Freemasonry is the fraternity and equality of men +who have virtuous aims," said Pierre, feeling ashamed of the +inadequacy of his words for the solemnity of the moment, as he +spoke. "I imagine..." + +"Good!" said the Rhetor quickly, apparently satisfied with this +answer. "Have you sought for means of attaining your aim in religion?" + +"No, I considered it erroneous and did not follow it," said +Pierre, so softly that the Rhetor did not hear him and asked him +what he was saying. "I have been an atheist," answered Pierre. + +"You are seeking for truth in order to follow its laws in your life, +therefore you seek wisdom and virtue. Is that not so?" said the +Rhetor, after a moment's pause. + +"Yes, yes," assented Pierre. + +The Rhetor cleared his throat, crossed his gloved hands on his +breast, and began to speak. + +"Now I must disclose to you the chief aim of our Order," he said, +"and if this aim coincides with yours, you may enter our Brotherhood +with profit. The first and chief object of our Order, the foundation +on which it rests and which no human power can destroy, is the +preservation and handing on to posterity of a certain important +mystery... which has come down to us from the remotest ages, even from +the first man- a mystery on which perhaps the fate of mankind depends. +But since this mystery is of such a nature that nobody can know or use +it unless he be prepared by long and diligent self-purification, not +everyone can hope to attain it quickly. Hence we have a secondary aim, +that of preparing our members as much as possible to reform their +hearts, to purify and enlighten their minds, by means handed on to +us by tradition from those who have striven to attain this mystery, +and thereby to render them capable of receiving it. + +"By purifying and regenerating our members we try, thirdly, to +improve the whole human race, offering it in our members an example of +piety and virtue, and thereby try with all our might to combat the +evil which sways the world. Think this over and I will come to you +again." + +"To combat the evil which sways the world..." Pierre repeated, and a +mental image of his future activity in this direction rose in his +mind. He imagined men such as he had himself been a fortnight ago, and +he addressed an edifying exhortation to them. He imagined to himself +vicious and unfortunate people whom he would assist by word and +deed, imagined oppressors whose victims he would rescue. Of the +three objects mentioned by the Rhetor, this last, that of improving +mankind, especially appealed to Pierre. The important mystery +mentioned by the Rhetor, though it aroused his curiosity, did not seem +to him essential, and the second aim, that of purifying and +regenerating himself, did not much interest him because at that moment +he felt with delight that he was already perfectly cured of his former +faults and was ready for all that was good. + +Half an hour later, the Rhetor returned to inform the seeker of +the seven virtues, corresponding to the seven steps of Solomon's +temple, which every Freemason should cultivate in himself. These +virtues were: 1. Discretion, the keeping of the secrets of the Order. +2. Obedience to those of higher ranks in the Order. 3. Morality. 4. +Love of mankind. 5. Courage. 6. Generosity. 7. The love of death. + +"In the seventh place, try, by the frequent thought of death," the +Rhetor said, "to bring yourself to regard it not as a dreaded foe, but +as a friend that frees the soul grown weary in the labors of virtue +from this distressful life, and leads it to its place of recompense +and peace." + +"Yes, that must be so," thought Pierre, when after these words the +Rhetor went away, leaving him to solitary meditation. "It must be +so, but I am still so weak that I love my life, the meaning of which +is only now gradually opening before me." But five of the other +virtues which Pierre recalled, counting them on his fingers, he felt +already in his soul: courage, generosity, morality, love of mankind, +and especially obedience- which did not even seem to him a virtue, but +a joy. (He now felt so glad to be free from his own lawlessness and to +submit his will to those who knew the indubitable truth.) He forgot +what the seventh virtue was and could not recall it. + +The third time the Rhetor came back more quickly and asked Pierre +whether he was still firm in his intention and determined to submit to +all that would be required of him. + +"I am ready for everything," said Pierre. + +"I must also inform you," said the Rhetor, "that our Order +delivers its teaching not in words only but also by other means, which +may perhaps have a stronger effect on the sincere seeker after +wisdom and virtue than mere words. This chamber with what you see +therein should already have suggested to your heart, if it is sincere, +more than words could do. You will perhaps also see in your further +initiation a like method of enlightenment. Our Order imitates the +ancient societies that explained their teaching by hieroglyphics. A +hieroglyph," said the Rhetor, "is an emblem of something not +cognizable by the senses but which possesses qualities resembling +those of the symbol." + +Pierre knew very well what a hieroglyph was, but dared not speak. He +listened to the Rhetor in silence, feeling from all he said that his +ordeal was about to begin. + +"If you are resolved, I must begin your initiation," said the Rhetor +coming closer to Pierre. "In token of generosity I ask you to give +me all your valuables." + +"But I have nothing here," replied Pierre, supposing that he was +asked to give up all he possessed. + +"What you have with you: watch, money, rings...." + +Pierre quickly took out his purse and watch, but could not manage +for some time to get the wedding ring off his fat finger. When that +had been done, the Rhetor said: + +"In token of obedience, I ask you to undress." + +Pierre took off his coat, waistcoat, and left boot according to +the Rhetor's instructions. The Mason drew the shirt back from Pierre's +left breast, and stooping down pulled up the left leg of his +trousers to above the knee. Pierre hurriedly began taking off his +right boot also and was going to tuck up the other trouser leg to save +this stranger the trouble, but the Mason told him that was not +necessary and gave him a slipper for his left foot. With a childlike +smile of embarrassment, doubt, and self-derision, which appeared on +his face against his will, Pierre stood with his arms hanging down and +legs apart, before his brother Rhetor, and awaited his further +commands. + +"And now, in token of candor, I ask you to reveal to me your chief +passion," said the latter. + +"My passion! I have had so many," replied Pierre. + +"That passion which more than all others caused you to waver on +the path of virtue," said the Mason. + +Pierre paused, seeking a reply. + +"Wine? Gluttony? Idleness? Laziness? Irritability? Anger? Women?" He +went over his vices in his mind, not knowing to which of them to +give the pre-eminence. + +"Women," he said in a low, scarcely audible voice. + +The Mason did not move and for a long time said nothing after this +answer. At last he moved up to Pierre and, taking the kerchief that +lay on the table, again bound his eyes. + +"For the last time I say to you- turn all your attention upon +yourself, put a bridle on your senses, and seek blessedness, not in +passion but in your own heart. The source of blessedness is not +without us but within...." + +Pierre had already long been feeling in himself that refreshing +source of blessedness which now flooded his heart with glad emotion. + +CHAPTER IV + +Soon after this there came into the dark chamber to fetch Pierre, +not the Rhetor but Pierre's sponsor, Willarski, whom he recognized +by his voice. To fresh questions as to the firmness of his +resolution Pierre replied: "Yes, yes, I agree," and with a beaming, +childlike smile, his fat chest uncovered, stepping unevenly and +timidly in one slippered and one booted foot, he advanced, while +Willarski held a sword to his bare chest. He was conducted from that +room along passages that turned backwards and forwards and was at last +brought to the doors of the Lodge. Willarski coughed, he was +answered by the Masonic knock with mallets, the doors opened before +them. A bass voice (Pierre was still blindfold) questioned him as to +who he was, when and where he was born, and so on. Then he was again +led somewhere still blindfold, and as they went along he was told +allegories of the toils of his pilgrimage, of holy friendship, of +the Eternal Architect of the universe, and of the courage with which +he should endure toils and dangers. During these wanderings, Pierre +noticed that he was spoken of now as the "Seeker," now as the +"Sufferer," and now as the "Postulant," to the accompaniment of +various knockings with mallets and swords. As he was being led up to +some object he noticed a hesitation and uncertainty among his +conductors. He heard those around him disputing in whispers and one of +them insisting that he should be led along a certain carpet. After +that they took his right hand, placed it on something, and told him to +hold a pair of compasses to his left breast with the other hand and to +repeat after someone who read aloud an oath of fidelity to the laws of +the Order. The candles were then extinguished and some spirit lighted, +as Pierre knew by the smell, and he was told that he would now see the +lesser light. The bandage was taken off his eyes and, by the faint +light of the burning spirit, Pierre, as in a dream, saw several men +standing before him, wearing aprons like the Rhetor's and holding +swords in their hands pointed at his breast. Among them stood a man +whose white shirt was stained with blood. On seeing this, Pierre moved +forward with his breast toward the swords, meaning them to pierce +it. But the swords were drawn back from him and he was at once +blindfolded again. + +"Now thou hast seen the lesser light," uttered a voice. Then the +candles were relit and he was told that he would see the full light; +the bandage was again removed and more than ten voices said +together: "Sic transit gloria mundi." + +Pierre gradually began to recover himself and looked about at the +room and at the people in it. Round a long table covered with black +sat some twelve men in garments like those he had already seen. Some +of them Pierre had met in Petersburg society. In the President's chair +sat a young man he did not know, with a peculiar cross hanging from +his neck. On his right sat the Italian abbe whom Pierre had met at +Anna Pavlovna's two years before. There were also present a very +distinguished dignitary and a Swiss who had formerly been tutor at the +Kuragins'. All maintained a solemn silence, listening to the words +of the President, who held a mallet in his hand. Let into the wall was +a star-shaped light. At one side of the table was a small carpet +with various figures worked upon it, at the other was something +resembling an altar on which lay a Testament and a skull. Round it +stood seven large candlesticks like those used in churches. Two of the +brothers led Pierre up to the altar, placed his feet at right +angles, and bade him lie down, saying that he must prostrate himself +at the Gates of the Temple. + +"He must first receive the trowel," whispered one of the brothers. + +"Oh, hush, please!" said another. + +Pierre, perplexed, looked round with his shortsighted eyes without +obeying, and suddenly doubts arose in his mind. "Where am I? What am I +doing? Aren't they laughing at me? Shan't I be ashamed to remember +this?" But these doubts only lasted a moment. Pierre glanced at the +serious faces of those around, remembered all he had already gone +through, and realized that he could not stop halfway. He was aghast at +his hesitation and, trying to arouse his former devotional feeling, +prostrated himself before the Gates of the Temple. And really, the +feeling of devotion returned to him even more strongly than before. +When he had lain there some time, he was told to get up, and a white +leather apron, such as the others wore, was put on him: he was given a +trowel and three pairs of gloves, and then the Grand Master +addressed him. He told him that he should try to do nothing to stain +the whiteness of that apron, which symbolized strength and purity; +then of the unexplained trowel, he told him to toil with it to cleanse +his own heart from vice, and indulgently to smooth with it the heart +of his neighbor. As to the first pair of gloves, a man's, he said that +Pierre could not know their meaning but must keep them. The second +pair of man's gloves he was to wear at the meetings, and finally of +the third, a pair of women's gloves, he said: "Dear brother, these +woman's gloves are intended for you too. Give them to the woman whom +you shall honor most of all. This gift will be a pledge of your purity +of heart to her whom you select to be your worthy helpmeet in +Masonry." And after a pause, he added: "But beware, dear brother, that +these gloves do not deck hands that are unclean." While the Grand +Master said these last words it seemed to Pierre that he grew +embarrassed. Pierre himself grew still more confused, blushed like a +child till tears came to his eyes, began looking about him uneasily, +and an awkward pause followed. + +This silence was broken by one of the brethren, who led Pierre up to +the rug and began reading to him from a manuscript book an explanation +of all the figures on it: the sun, the moon, a hammer, a plumb line, a +trowel, a rough stone and a squared stone, a pillar, three windows, +and so on. Then a place was assigned to Pierre, he was shown the signs +of the Lodge, told the password, and at last was permitted to sit +down. The Grand Master began reading the statutes. They were very +long, and Pierre, from joy, agitation, and embarrassment, was not in a +state to understand what was being read. He managed to follow only the +last words of the statutes and these remained in his mind. + +"In our temples we recognize no other distinctions," read the +Grand Master, "but those between virtue and vice. Beware of making any +distinctions which may infringe equality. Fly to a brother's aid +whoever he may be, exhort him who goeth astray, raise him that +falleth, never bear malice or enmity toward thy brother. Be kindly and +courteous. Kindle in all hearts the flame of virtue. Share thy +happiness with thy neighbor, and may envy never dim the purity of that +bliss. Forgive thy enemy, do not avenge thyself except by doing him +good. Thus fulfilling the highest law thou shalt regain traces of +the ancient dignity which thou hast lost." + +He finished and, getting up, embraced and kissed Pierre, who, with +tears of joy in his eyes, looked round him, not knowing how to +answer the congratulations and greetings from acquaintances that met +him on all sides. He acknowledged no acquaintances but saw in all +these men only brothers, and burned with impatience to set to work +with them. + +The Grand Master rapped with his mallet. All the Masons sat down +in their places, and one of them read an exhortation on the +necessity of humility. + +The Grand Master proposed that the last duty should be performed, +and the distinguished dignitary who bore the title of "Collector of +Alms" went round to all the brothers. Pierre would have liked to +subscribe all he had, but fearing that it might look like pride +subscribed the same amount as the others. + +The meeting was at an end, and on reaching home Pierre felt as if he +had returned from a long journey on which he had spent dozens of +years, had become completely changed, and had quite left behind his +former habits and way of life. + +CHAPTER V + +The day after he had been received into the Lodge, Pierre was +sitting at home reading a book and trying to fathom the significance +of the Square, one side of which symbolized God, another moral things, +a third physical things, and the fourth a combination of these. Now +and then his attention wandered from the book and the Square and he +formed in imagination a new plan of life. On the previous evening at +the Lodge, he had heard that a rumor of his duel had reached the +Emperor and that it would be wiser for him to leave Petersburg. Pierre +proposed going to his estates in the south and there attending to +the welfare of his serfs. He was joyfully planning this new life, when +Prince Vasili suddenly entered the room. + +"My dear fellow, what have you been up to in Moscow? Why have you +quarreled with Helene, mon cher? You are under a delusion," said +Prince Vasili, as he entered. "I know all about it, and I can tell you +positively that Helene is as innocent before you as Christ was +before the Jews." + +Pierre was about to reply, but Prince Vasili interrupted him. + +"And why didn't you simply come straight to me as to a friend? I +know all about it and understand it all," he said. "You behaved as +becomes a man values his honor, perhaps too hastily, but we won't go +into that. But consider the position in which you are placing her +and me in the eyes of society, and even of the court," he added, +lowering his voice. "She is living in Moscow and you are here. +Remember, dear boy," and he drew Pierre's arm downwards, "it is simply +a misunderstanding. I expect you feel it so yourself. Let us write her +a letter at once, and she'll come here and all will be explained, or +else, my dear boy, let me tell you it's quite likely you'll have to +suffer for it." + +Prince Vasili gave Pierre a significant look. + +"I know from reliable sources that the Dowager Empress is taking a +keen interest in the whole affair. You know she is very gracious to +Helene." + +Pierre tried several times to speak, but, on one hand, Prince Vasili +did not let him and, on the other, Pierre himself feared to begin to +speak in the tone of decided refusal and disagreement in which he +had firmly resolved to answer his father-in-law. Moreover, the words +of the Masonic statutes, "be kindly and courteous," recurred to him. +He blinked, went red, got up and sat down again, struggling with +himself to do what was for him the most difficult thing in life- to +say an unpleasant thing to a man's face, to say what the other, +whoever he might be, did not expect. He was so used to submitting to +Prince Vasili's tone of careless self-assurance that he felt he +would be unable to withstand it now, but he also felt that on what +he said now his future depended- whether he would follow the same +old road, or that new path so attractively shown him by the Masons, on +which he firmly believed he would be reborn to a new life. + +"Now, dear boy," said Prince Vasili playfully, "say 'yes,' and +I'll write to her myself, and we will kill the fatted calf." + +But before Prince Vasili had finished his playful speech, Pierre, +without looking at him, and with a kind of fury that made him like his +father, muttered in a whisper: + +"Prince, I did not ask you here. Go, please go!" And he jumped up +and opened the door for him. + +"Go!" he repeated, amazed at himself and glad to see the look of +confusion and fear that showed itself on Prince Vasili's face. + +"What's the matter with you? Are you ill?" + +"Go!" the quivering voice repeated. And Prince Vasili had to go +without receiving any explanation. + +A week later, Pierre, having taken leave of his new friends, the +Masons, and leaving large sums of money with them for alms, went +away to his estates. His new brethren gave him letters to the Kiev and +Odessa Masons and promised to write to him and guide him in his new +activity. + +CHAPTER VI + +The duel between Pierre and Dolokhov was hushed up and, in spite +of the Emperor's severity regarding duels at that time, neither the +principals nor their seconds suffered for it. But the story of the +duel, confirmed by Pierre's rupture with his wife, was the talk of +society. Pierre who had been regarded with patronizing condescension +when he was an illegitimate son, and petted and extolled when he was +the best match in Russia, had sunk greatly in the esteem of society +after his marriage- when the marriageable daughters and their +mothers had nothing to hope from him- especially as he did not know +how, and did not wish, to court society's favor. Now he alone was +blamed for what had happened, he was said to be insanely jealous and +subject like his father to fits of bloodthirsty rage. And when after +Pierre's departure Helene returned to Petersburg, she was received +by all her acquaintances not only cordially, but even with a shade +of deference due to her misfortune. When conversation turned on her +husband Helene assumed a dignified expression, which with +characteristic tact she had acquired though she did not understand its +significance. This expression suggested that she had resolved to +endure her troubles uncomplainingly and that her husband was a cross +laid upon her by God. Prince Vasili expressed his opinion more openly. +He shrugged his shoulders when Pierre was mentioned and, pointing to +his forehead, remarked: + +"A bit touched- I always said so." + +"I said from the first," declared Anna Pavlovna referring to Pierre, +"I said at the time and before anyone else" (she insisted on her +priority) "that that senseless young man was spoiled by the depraved +ideas of these days. I said so even at the time when everybody was +in raptures about him, when he had just returned from abroad, and +when, if you remember, he posed as a sort of Marat at one of my +soirees. And how has it ended? I was against this marriage even then +and foretold all that has happened." + +Anna Pavlovna continued to give on free evenings the same kind of +soirees as before- such as she alone had the gift of arranging- at +which was to be found "the cream of really good society, the bloom +of the intellectual essence of Petersburg," as she herself put it. +Besides this refined selection of society Anna Pavlovna's receptions +were also distinguished by the fact that she always presented some new +and interesting person to the visitors and that nowhere else was the +state of the political thermometer of legitimate Petersburg court +society so dearly and distinctly indicated. + +Toward the end of 1806, when all the sad details of Napoleon's +destruction of the Prussian army at Jena and Auerstadt and the +surrender of most of the Prussian fortresses had been received, when +our troops had already entered Prussia and our second war with +Napoleon was beginning, Anna Pavlovna gave one of her soirees. The +"cream of really good society" consisted of the fascinating Helene, +forsaken by her husband, Mortemart, the delightful Prince Hippolyte +who had just returned from Vienna, two diplomatists, the old aunt, a +young man referred to in that drawing room as "a man of great merit" +(un homme de beaucoup de merite), a newly appointed maid of honor +and her mother, and several other less noteworthy persons. + +The novelty Anna Pavlovna was setting before her guests that evening +was Boris Drubetskoy, who had just arrived as a special messenger from +the Prussian army and was aide-de-camp to a very important personage. + +The temperature shown by the political thermometer to the company +that evening was this: + +"Whatever the European sovereigns and commanders may do to +countenance Bonaparte, and to cause me, and us in general, annoyance +and mortification, our opinion of Bonaparte cannot alter. We shall not +cease to express our sincere views on that subject, and can only say +to the King Prussia and others: 'So much the worse for you. Tu l'as +voulu, George Dandin,' that's all we have to say about it!" + +When Boris, who was to be served up to the guests, entered the +drawing room, almost all the company had assembled, and the +conversation, guided by Anna Pavlovna, was about our diplomatic +relations with Austria and the hope of an alliance with her. + +Boris, grown more manly and looking fresh, rosy and +self-possessed, entered the drawing room elegantly dressed in the +uniform of an aide-de-camp and was duly conducted to pay his +respects to the aunt and then brought back to the general circle. + +Anna Pavlovna gave him her shriveled hand to kiss and introduced him +to several persons whom he did not know, giving him a whispered +description of each. +charge d'affaires from Copenhagen- a profound intellect," and +simply, "Mr. Shitov- a man of great merit"- this of the man usually so +described. + +Thanks to Anna Mikhaylovna's efforts, his own tastes, and the +peculiarities of his reserved nature, Boris had managed during his +service to place himself very advantageously. He was aide-de-camp to a +very important personage, had been sent on a very important mission to +Prussia, and had just returned from there as a special messenger. He +had become thoroughly conversant with that unwritten code with which +he had been so pleased at Olmutz and according to which an ensign +might rank incomparably higher than a general, and according to +which what was needed for success in the service was not effort or +work, or courage, or perseverance, but only the knowledge of how to +get on with those who can grant rewards, and he was himself often +surprised at the rapidity of his success and at the inability of +others to understand these things. In consequence of this discovery +his whole manner of life, all his relations with old friends, all +his plans for his future, were completely altered. He was not rich, +but would spend his last groat to be better dressed than others, and +would rather deprive himself of many pleasures than allow himself to +be seen in a shabby equipage or appear in the streets of Petersburg in +an old uniform. He made friends with and sought the acquaintance of +only those above him in position and who could therefore be of use +to him. He liked Petersburg and despised Moscow. The remembrance of +the Rostovs' house and of his childish love for Natasha was unpleasant +to him and he had not once been to see the Rostovs since the day of +his departure for the army. To be in Anna Pavlovna's drawing room he +considered an important step up in the service, and he at once +understood his role, letting his hostess make use of whatever interest +he had to offer. He himself carefully scanned each face, appraising +the possibilities of establishing intimacy with each of those present, +and the advantages that might accrue. He took the seat indicated to +him beside the fair Helene and listened to the general conversation. + +"Vienna considers the bases of the proposed treaty so unattainable +that not even a continuity of most brilliant successes would secure +them, and she doubts the means we have of gaining them. That is the +actual phrase used by the Vienna cabinet," said the Danish charge +d'affaires. + +"The doubt is flattering," said "the man of profound intellect," +with a subtle smile. + +"We must distinguish between the Vienna cabinet and the Emperor of +Austria," said Mortemart. "The Emperor of Austria can never have +thought of such a thing, it is only the cabinet that says it." + +"Ah, my dear vicomte," put in Anna Pavlovna, "L'Urope" (for some +reason she called it Urope as if that were a specially refined +French pronunciation which she could allow herself when conversing +with a Frenchman), "L'Urope ne sera jamais notre alliee sincere."~^ + +^~ "Europe will never be our sincere ally." + +After that Anna Pavlovna led up to the courage and firmness of the +King of Prussia, in order to draw Boris into the conversation. + +Boris listened attentively to each of the speakers, awaiting his +turn, but managed meanwhile to look round repeatedly at his +neighbor, the beautiful Helene, whose eyes several times met those +of the handsome young aide-de-camp with a smile. + +Speaking of the position of Prussia, Anna Pavlovna very naturally +asked Boris to tell them about his journey to Glogau and in what state +he found the Prussian army. Boris, speaking with deliberation, told +them in pure, correct French many interesting details about the armies +and the court, carefully abstaining from expressing an opinion of +his own about the facts he was recounting. For some time he +engrossed the general attention, and Anna Pavlovna felt that the +novelty she had served up was received with pleasure by all her +visitors. The greatest attention of all to Boris' narrative was +shown by Helene. She asked him several questions about his journey and +seemed greatly interested in the state of the Prussian army. As soon +as he had finished she turned to him with her usual smile. + +"You absolutely must come and see me," she said in a tone that +implied that, for certain considerations he could not know of, this +was absolutely necessary. + +"On Tuesday between eight and nine. It will give me great pleasure." + +Boris promised to fulfill her wish and was about to begin a +conversation with her, when Anna Pavlovna called him away on the +pretext that her aunt wished to hear him. + +"You know her husband, of course?" said Anna Pavlovna, closing her +eyes and indicating Helene with a sorrowful gesture. "Ah, she is +such an unfortunate and charming woman! Don't mention him before +her- please don't! It is too painful for her!" + +CHAPTER VII + +When Boris and Anna Pavlovna returned to the others Prince Hippolyte +had the ear of the company. + +Bending forward in his armchair he said: "Le Roi de Prusse!" and +having said this laughed. Everyone turned toward him. + +"Le Roi de Prusse?" Hippolyte said interrogatively, again +laughing, and then calmly and seriously sat back in his chair. Anna +Pavlovna waited for him to go on, but as he seemed quite decided to +say no more she began to tell of how at Potsdam the impious +Bonaparte had stolen the sword of Frederick the Great. + +"It is the sword of Frederick the Great which I..." she began, but +Hippolyte interrupted her with the words: "Le Roi de Prusse..." and +again, as soon as soon as all turned toward him, excused himself and +said no more. + +Anna Pavlovna frowned. Mortemart, Hippolyte's friend, addressed +him firmly. + +"Come now, what about your Roi de Prusse?" + +Hippolyte laughed as if ashamed of laughing. + +"Oh, it's nothing. I only wished to say..." (he wanted to repeat a +joke he had heard in Vienna and which he had been trying all that +evening to get in) "I only wished to say that we are wrong to fight +pour le Roi de Prusse!" + +Boris smiled circumspectly, so that it might be taken as ironical or +appreciative according to the way the joke was received. Everybody +laughed. + +"Your joke is too bad, it's witty but unjust," said Anna Pavlovna, +shaking her little shriveled finger at him. + +"We are not fighting pour le Roi de Prusse, but for right +principles. Oh, that wicked Prince Hippolyte!" she said. + +The conversation did not flag all evening and turned chiefly on +the political news. It became particularly animated toward the end +of the evening when the rewards bestowed by the Emperor were +mentioned. + +"You know N- N- received a snuffbox with the portrait last year?" +said "the man of profound intellect." "Why shouldn't S- S- get the +same distinction?" + +"Pardon me! A snuffbox with the Emperor's portrait is a reward but +not a distinction," said the diplomatist- "a gift, rather." + +"There are precedents, I may mention Schwarzenberg." + +"It's impossible," replied another. + +"Will you bet? The ribbon of the order is a different matter...." + +When everybody rose to go, Helene who had spoken very little all the +evening again turned to Boris, asking him in a tone of caressing +significant command to come to her on Tuesday. + +"It is of great importance to me," she said, turning with a smile +toward Anna Pavlovna, and Anna Pavlovna, with the same sad smile +with which she spoke of her exalted patroness, supported Helene's +wish. + +It seemed as if from some words Boris had spoken that evening +about the Prussian army, Helene had suddenly found it necessary to see +him. She seemed to promise to explain that necessity to him when he +came on Tuesday. + +But on Tuesday evening, having come to Helene's splendid salon, +Boris received no clear explanation of why it had been necessary for +him to come. There were other guests and the countess talked little to +him, and only as he kissed her hand on taking leave said +unexpectedly and in a whisper, with a strangely unsmiling face: +"Come to dinner tomorrow... in the evening. You must come.... Come!" + +During that stay in Petersburg, Boris became an intimate in the +countess' house. + +CHAPTER VIII + +The war was flaming up and nearing the Russian frontier. +Everywhere one heard curses on Bonaparte, "the enemy of mankind." +Militiamen and recruits were being enrolled in the villages, and +from the seat of war came contradictory news, false as usual and +therefore variously interpreted. The life of old Prince Bolkonski, +Prince Andrew, and Princess Mary had greatly changed since 1805. + +In 1806 the old prince was made one of the eight commanders in chief +then appointed to supervise the enrollment decreed throughout +Russia. Despite the weakness of age, which had become particularly +noticeable since the time when he thought his son had been killed, +he did not think it right to refuse a duty to which he had been +appointed by the Emperor himself, and this fresh opportunity for +action gave him new energy and strength. He was continually +traveling through the three provinces entrusted to him, was pedantic +in the fulfillment of his duties, severe to cruelty with his +subordinates, and went into everything down to the minutest details +himself. Princess Mary had ceased taking lessons in mathematics from +her father, and when the old prince was at home went to his study with +the wet nurse and little Prince Nicholas (as his grandfather called +him). The baby Prince Nicholas lived with his wet nurse and nurse +Savishna in the late princess' rooms and Princess Mary spent most of +the day in the nursery, taking a mother's place to her little nephew +as best she could. Mademoiselle Bourienne, too, seemed passionately +fond of the boy, and Princess Mary often deprived herself to give +her friend the pleasure of dandling the little angel- as she called +her nephew- and playing with him. + +Near the altar of the church at Bald Hills there was a chapel over +the tomb of the little princess, and in this chapel was a marble +monument brought from Italy, representing an angel with outspread +wings ready to fly upwards. The angel's upper lip was slightly +raised as though about to smile, and once on coming out of the +chapel Prince Andrew and Princess Mary admitted to one another that +the angel's face reminded them strangely of the little princess. But +what was still stranger, though of this Prince Andrew said nothing +to his sister, was that in the expression the sculptor had happened to +give the angel's face, Prince Andrew read the same mild reproach he +had read on the face of his dead wife: "Ah, why have you done this +to me?" + +Soon after Prince Andrew's return the old prince made over to him +a large estate, Bogucharovo, about twenty-five miles from Bald +Hills. Partly because of the depressing memories associated with +Bald Hills, partly because Prince Andrew did not always feel equal +to bearing with his father's peculiarities, and partly because he +needed solitude, Prince Andrew made use of Bogucharovo, began building +and spent most of his time there. + +After the Austerlitz campaign Prince Andrew had firmly resolved +not to continue his military service, and when the war recommenced and +everybody had to serve, he took a post under his father in the +recruitment so as to avoid active service. The old prince and his +son seemed to have changed roles since the campaign of 1805. The old +man, roused by activity, expected the best results from the new +campaign, while Prince Andrew on the contrary, taking no part in the +war and secretly regretting this, saw only the dark side. + +On February 26, 1807, the old prince set off on one of his circuits. +Prince Andrew remained at Bald Hills as usual during his father's +absence. Little Nicholas had been unwell for four days. The coachman +who had driven the old prince to town returned bringing papers and +letters for Prince Andrew. + +Not finding the young prince in his study the valet went with the +letters to Princess Mary's apartments, but did not find him there. +He was told that the prince had gone to the nursery. + +"If you please, your excellency, Petrusha has brought some +papers," said one of the nursemaids to Prince Andrew who was sitting +on a child's little chair while, frowning and with trembling hands, he +poured drops from a medicine bottle into a wineglass half full of +water. + +"What is it?" he said crossly, and, his hand shaking +unintentionally, he poured too many drops into the glass. He threw the +mixture onto the floor and asked for some more water. The maid brought +it. + +There were in the room a child's cot, two boxes, two armchairs, a +table, a child's table, and the little chair on which Prince Andrew +was sitting. The curtains were drawn, and a single candle was +burning on the table, screened by a bound music book so that the light +did not fall on the cot. + +"My dear," said Princess Mary, addressing her brother from beside +the cot where she was standing, "better wait a bit... later..." + +"Oh, leave off, you always talk nonsense and keep putting things +off- and this is what comes of it!" said Prince Andrew in an +exasperated whisper, evidently meaning to wound his sister. + +"My dear, really... it's better not to wake him... he's asleep," +said the princess in a tone of entreaty. + +Prince Andrew got up and went on tiptoe up to the little bed, +wineglass in hand. + +"Perhaps we'd really better not wake him," he said hesitating. + +"As you please... really... I think so... but as you please," said +Princess Mary, evidently intimidated and confused that her opinion had +prevailed. She drew her brother's attention to the maid who was +calling him in a whisper. + +It was the second night that neither of them had slept, watching the +boy who was in a high fever. These last days, mistrusting their +household doctor and expecting another for whom they had sent to town, +they had been trying first one remedy and then another. Worn out by +sleeplessness and anxiety they threw their burden of sorrow on one +another and reproached and disputed with each other. + +"Petrusha has come with papers from your father," whispered the +maid. + +Prince Andrew went out. + +"Devil take them!" he muttered, and after listening to the verbal +instructions his father had sent and taking the correspondence and his +father's letter, he returned to the nursery. + +"Well?" he asked. + +"Still the same. Wait, for heaven's sake. Karl Ivanich always says +that sleep is more important than anything," whispered Princess Mary +with a sigh. + +Prince Andrew went up to the child and felt him. He was burning hot. + +"Confound you and your Karl Ivanich!" He took the glass with the +drops and again went up to the cot. + +"Andrew, don't!" said Princess Mary. + +But he scowled at her angrily though also with suffering in his +eyes, and stooped glass in hand over the infant. + +"But I wish it," he said. "I beg you- give it him!" + +Princess Mary shrugged her shoulders but took the glass submissively +and calling the nurse began giving the medicine. The child screamed +hoarsely. Prince Andrew winced and, clutching his head, went out and +sat down on a sofa in the next room. + +He still had all the letters in his hand. Opening them +mechanically he began reading. The old prince, now and then using +abbreviations, wrote in his large elongated hand on blue paper as +follows: + +Have just this moment received by special messenger very joyful +news- if it's not false. Bennigsen seems to have obtained a complete +victory over Buonaparte at Eylau. In Petersburg everyone is rejoicing, +and the rewards sent to the army are innumerable. Though he is a +German- I congratulate him! I can't make out what the commander at +Korchevo- a certain Khandrikov- is up to; till now the additional +men and provisions have not arrived. Gallop off to him at once and say +I'll have his head off if everything is not here in a week. Have +received another letter about the Preussisch-Eylau battle from +Petenka- he took part in it- and it's all true. When mischief-makers +don't meddle even a German beats Buonaparte. He is said to be +fleeing in great disorder. Mind you gallop off to Korchevo without +delay and carry out instructions! + +Prince Andrew sighed and broke the seal of another envelope. It +was a closely written letter of two sheets from Bilibin. He folded +it up without reading it and reread his father's letter, ending with +the words: "Gallop off to Korchevo and carry out instructions!" + +"No, pardon me, I won't go now till the child is better," thought +he, going to the door and looking into the nursery. + +Princess Mary was still standing by the cot, gently rocking the +baby. + +"Ah yes, and what else did he say that's unpleasant?" thought Prince +Andrew, recalling his father's letter. "Yes, we have gained a +victory over Bonaparte, just when I'm not serving. Yes, yes, he's +always poking fun at me.... Ah, well! Let him!" And he began reading +Bilibin's letter which was written in French. He read without +understanding half of it, read only to forget, if but for a moment, +what he had too long been thinking of so painfully to the exclusion of +all else. + +CHAPTER IX + +Bilibin was now at army headquarters in a diplomatic capacity, and +though he wrote in French and used French jests and French idioms, +he described the whole campaign with a fearless self-censure and +self-derision genuinely Russian. Bilibin wrote that the obligation +of diplomatic discretion tormented him, and he was happy to have in +Prince Andrew a reliable correspondent to whom he could pour out the +bile he had accumulated at the sight of all that was being done in the +army. The letter was old, having been written before the battle at +Preussisch-Eylau. + +"Since the day of our brilliant success at Austerlitz," wrote +Bilibin, "as you know, my dear prince, I never leave headquarters. I +have certainly acquired a taste for war, and it is just as well for +me; what I have seen during these last three months is incredible. + +"I begin ab ovo. 'The enemy of the human race,' as you know, attacks +the Prussians. The Prussians are our faithful allies who have only +betrayed us three times in three years. We take up their cause, but it +turns out that 'the enemy of the human race' pays no heed to our +fine speeches and in his rude and savage way throws himself on the +Prussians without giving them time to finish the parade they had +begun, and in two twists of the hand he breaks them to smithereens and +installs himself in the palace at Potsdam. + +"'I most ardently desire,' writes the King of Prussia to +Bonaparte, 'that Your Majesty should be received and treated in my +palace in a manner agreeable to yourself, and in so far as +circumstances allowed, I have hastened to take all steps to that +end. May I have succeeded!' The Prussian generals pride themselves +on being polite to the French and lay down their arms at the first +demand. + +"The head of the garrison at Glogau, with ten thousand men, asks the +King of Prussia what he is to do if he is summoned to surrender.... +All this is absolutely true. + +"In short, hoping to settle matters by taking up a warlike attitude, +it turns out that we have landed ourselves in war, and what is more, +in war on our own frontiers, with and for the King of Prussia. We have +everything in perfect order, only one little thing is lacking, namely, +a commander in chief. As it was considered that the Austerlitz success +might have been more decisive had the commander in chief not been so +young, all our octogenarians were reviewed, and of Prozorovski and +Kamenski the latter was preferred. The general comes to us, +Suvorov-like, in a kibitka, and is received with acclamations of joy +and triumph. + +"On the 4th, the first courier arrives from Petersburg. The mails +are taken to the field marshal's room, for he likes to do everything +himself. I am called in to help sort the letters and take those +meant for us. The field marshal looks on and waits for letters +addressed to him. We search, but none are to be found. The field +marshal grows impatient and sets to work himself and finds letters +from the Emperor to Count T., Prince V., and others. Then he bursts +into one of his wild furies and rages at everyone and everything, +seizes the letters, opens them, and reads those from the Emperor +addressed to others. 'Ah! So that's the way they treat me! No +confidence in me! Ah, ordered to keep an eye on me! Very well then! +Get along with you!' So he writes the famous order of the day to +General Bennigsen: + +'I am wounded and cannot ride and consequently cannot command the +army. You have brought your army corps to Pultusk, routed: here it +is exposed, and without fuel or forage, so something must be done, +and, as you yourself reported to Count Buxhowden yesterday, you must +think of retreating to our frontier- which do today.' + +"'From all my riding,' he writes to the Emperor, 'I have got a +saddle sore which, coming after all my previous journeys, quite +prevents my riding and commanding so vast an army, so I have passed on +the command to the general next in seniority, Count Buxhowden, +having sent him my whole staff and all that belongs to it, advising +him if there is a lack of bread, to move farther into the interior +of Prussia, for only one day's ration of bread remains, and in some +regiments none at all, as reported by the division commanders, +Ostermann and Sedmoretzki, and all that the peasants had has been +eaten up. I myself will remain in hospital at Ostrolenka till I +recover. In regard to which I humbly submit my report, with the +information that if the army remains in its present bivouac another +fortnight there will not be a healthy man left in it by spring. + +"'Grant leave to retire to his country seat to an old man who is +already in any case dishonored by being unable to fulfill the great +and glorious task for which he was chosen. I shall await your most +gracious permission here in hospital, that I may not have to play +the part of a secretary rather than commander in the army. My +removal from the army does not produce the slightest stir- a blind man +has left it. There are thousands such as I in Russia.' + +"The field marshal is angry with the Emperor and he punishes us all, +isn't it logical? + +"This is the first act. Those that follow are naturally increasingly +interesting and entertaining. After the field marshal's departure it +appears that we are within sight of the enemy and must give battle. +Buxhowden is commander in chief by seniority, but General Bennigsen +does not quite see it; more particularly as it is he and his corps who +are within sight of the enemy and he wishes to profit by the +opportunity to fight a battle 'on his own hand' as the Germans say. He +does so. This is the battle of Pultusk, which is considered a great +victory but in my opinion was nothing of the kind. We civilians, as +you know, have a very bad way of deciding whether a battle was won +or lost. Those who retreat after a battle have lost it is what we say; +and according to that it is we who lost the battle of Pultusk. In +short, we retreat after the battle but send a courier to Petersburg +with news of a victory, and General Bennigsen, hoping to receive +from Petersburg the post of commander in chief as a reward for his +victory, does not give up the command of the army to General +Buxhowden. During this interregnum we begin a very original and +interesting series of maneuvers. Our aim is no longer, as it should +be, to avoid or attack the enemy, but solely to avoid General +Buxhowden who by right of seniority should be our chief. So +energetically do we pursue this aim that after crossing an +unfordable river we burn the bridges to separate ourselves from our +enemy, who at the moment is not Bonaparte but Buxhowden. General +Buxhowden was all but attacked and captured by a superior enemy +force as a result of one of these maneuvers that enabled us to +escape him. Buxhowden pursues us- we scuttle. He hardly crosses the +river to our side before we recross to the other. At last our enemy. +Buxhowden, catches us and attacks. Both generals are angry, and the +result is a challenge on Buxhowden's part and an epileptic fit on +Bennigsen's. But at the critical moment the courier who carried the +news of our victory at Pultusk to Petersburg returns bringing our +appointment as commander in chief, and our first foe, Buxhowden, is +vanquished; we can now turn our thoughts to the second, Bonaparte. But +as it turns out, just at that moment a third enemy rises before us- +namely the Orthodox Russian soldiers, loudly demanding bread, meat, +biscuits, fodder, and whatnot! The stores are empty, the roads +impassable. The Orthodox begin looting, and in a way of which our last +campaign can give you no idea. Half the regiments form bands and scour +the countryside and put everything to fire and sword. The +inhabitants are totally ruined, the hospitals overflow with sick, +and famine is everywhere. Twice the marauders even attack our +headquarters, and the commander in chief has to ask for a battalion to +disperse them. During one of these attacks they carried off my empty +portmanteau and my dressing gown. The Emperor proposes to give all +commanders of divisions the right to shoot marauders, but I much +fear this will oblige one half the army to shoot the other." + +At first Prince Andrew read with his eyes only, but after a while, +in spite of himself (although he knew how far it was safe to trust +Bilibin), what he had read began to interest him more and more. When +he had read thus far, he crumpled the letter up and threw it away. +It was not what he had read that vexed him, but the fact that the life +out there in which he had now no part could perturb him. He shut his +eyes, rubbed his forehead as if to rid himself of all interest in what +he had read, and listened to what was passing in the nursery. Suddenly +he thought he heard a strange noise through the door. He was seized +with alarm lest something should have happened to the child while he +was reading the letter. He went on tiptoe to the nursery door and +opened it. + +Just as he went in he saw that the nurse was hiding something from +him with a scared look and that Princess Mary was no longer by the +cot. + +"My dear," he heard what seemed to him her despairing whisper behind +him. + +As often happens after long sleeplessness and long anxiety, he was +seized by an unreasoning panic- it occurred to him that the child +was dead. All that he saw and heard seemed to confirm this terror. + +"All is over," he thought, and a cold sweat broke out on his +forehead. He went to the cot in confusion, sure that he would find +it empty and that the nurse had been hiding the dead baby. He drew the +curtain aside and for some time his frightened, restless eyes could +not find the baby. At last he saw him: the rosy boy had tossed about +till he lay across the bed with his head lower than the pillow, and +was smacking his lips in his sleep and breathing evenly. + +Prince Andrew was as glad to find the boy like that, as if he had +already lost him. He bent over him and, as his sister had taught +him, tried with his lips whether the child was still feverish. The +soft forehead was moist. Prince Andrew touched the head with his hand; +even the hair was wet, so profusely had the child perspired. He was +not dead, but evidently the crisis was over and he was convalescent. +Prince Andrew longed to snatch up, to squeeze, to hold to his heart, +this helpless little creature, but dared not do so. He stood over him, +gazing at his head and at the little arms and legs which showed +under the blanket. He heard a rustle behind him and a shadow +appeared under the curtain of the cot. He did not look round, but +still gazing at the infant's face listened to his regular breathing. +The dark shadow was Princess Mary, who had come up to the cot with +noiseless steps, lifted the curtain, and dropped it again behind +her. Prince Andrew recognized her without looking and held out his +hand to her. She pressed it. + +"He has perspired," said Prince Andrew. + +"I was coming to tell you so." + +The child moved slightly in his sleep, smiled, and rubbed his +forehead against the pillow. + +Prince Andrew looked at his sister. In the dim shadow of the curtain +her luminous eyes shone more brightly than usual from the tears of joy +that were in them. She leaned over to her brother and kissed him, +slightly catching the curtain of the cot. Each made the other a +warning gesture and stood still in the dim light beneath the curtain +as if not wishing to leave that seclusion where they three were shut +off from all the world. Prince Andrew was the first to move away, +ruffling his hair against the muslin of the curtain. + +"Yes, this is the one thing left me now," he said with a sigh. + +CHAPTER X + +Soon after his admission to the Masonic Brotherhood, Pierre went +to the Kiev province, where he had the greatest number of serfs, +taking with him full directions which he had written down for his +own guidance as to what he should do on his estates. + +When he reached Kiev he sent for all his stewards to the head office +and explained to them his intentions and wishes. He told them that +steps would be taken immediately to free his serfs- and that till then +they were not to be overburdened with labor, women while nursing their +babies were not to be sent to work, assistance was to be given to +the serfs, punishments were to be admonitory and not corporal, and +hospitals, asylums, and schools were to be established on all the +estates. Some of the stewards (there were semiliterate foremen among +them) listened with alarm, supposing these words to mean that the +young count was displeased with their management and embezzlement of +money, some after their first fright were amused by Pierre's lisp +and the new words they had not heard before, others simply enjoyed +hearing how the master talked, while the cleverest among them, +including the chief steward, understood from this speech how they +could best handle the master for their own ends. + +The chief steward expressed great sympathy with Pierre's intentions, +but remarked that besides these changes it would be necessary to go +into the general state of affairs which was far from satisfactory. + +Despite Count Bezukhov's enormous wealth, since he had come into +an income which was said to amount to five hundred thousand rubles a +year, Pierre felt himself far poorer than when his father had made him +an allowance of ten thousand rubles. He had a dim perception of the +following budget: + +About 80,000 went in payments on all the estates to the Land Bank, +about 30,000 went for the upkeep of the estate near Moscow, the town +house, and the allowance to the three princesses; about 15,000 was +given in pensions and the same amount for asylums; 150,000 alimony was +sent to the countess; about 70,00 went for interest on debts. The +building of a new church, previously begun, had cost about 10,000 in +each of the last two years, and he did not know how the rest, about +100,000 rubles, was spent, and almost every year he was obliged to +borrow. Besides this the chief steward wrote every year telling him of +fires and bad harvests, or of the necessity of rebuilding factories +and workshops. So the first task Pierre had to face was one for +which he had very little aptitude or inclination- practical business. + +He discussed estate affairs every day with his chief steward. But he +felt that this did not forward matters at all. He felt that these +consultations were detached from real affairs and did not link up with +them or make them move. On the one hand, the chief steward put the +state of things to him in the very worst light, pointing out the +necessity of paying off the debts and undertaking new activities +with serf labor, to which Pierre did not agree. On the other hand, +Pierre demanded that steps should be taken to liberate the serfs, +which the steward met by showing the necessity of first paying off the +loans from the Land Bank, and the consequent impossibility of a speedy +emancipation. + +The steward did not say it was quite impossible, but suggested +selling the forests in the province of Kostroma, the land lower down +the river, and the Crimean estate, in order to make it possible: all +of which operations according to him were connected with such +complicated measures- the removal of injunctions, petitions, +permits, and so on- that Pierre became quite bewildered and only +replied: + +"Yes, yes, do so." + +Pierre had none of the practical persistence that would have enabled +him to attend to the business himself and so he disliked it and only +tried to pretend to the steward that he was attending to it. The +steward for his part tried to pretend to the count that he +considered these consultations very valuable for the proprietor and +troublesome to himself. + +In Kiev Pierre found some people he knew, and strangers hastened +to make his acquaintance and joyfully welcomed the rich newcomer, +the largest landowner of the province. Temptations to Pierre's +greatest weakness- the one to which he had confessed when admitted +to the Lodge- were so strong that he could not resist them. Again +whole days, weeks, and months of his life passed in as great a rush +and were as much occupied with evening parties, dinners, lunches, +and balls, giving him no time for reflection, as in Petersburg. +Instead of the new life he had hoped to lead he still lived the old +life, only in new surroundings. + +Of the three precepts of Freemasonry Pierre realized that he did not +fulfill the one which enjoined every Mason to set an example of +moral life, and that of the seven virtues he lacked two- morality +and the love of death. He consoled himself with the thought that he +fulfilled another of the precepts- that of reforming the human race- +and had other virtues- love of his neighbor, and especially +generosity. + +In the spring of 1807 he decided to return to Petersburg. On the way +he intended to visit all his estates and see for himself how far his +orders had been carried out and in what state were the serfs whom +God had entrusted to his care and whom he intended to benefit. + +The chief steward, who considered the young count's attempts +almost insane- unprofitable to himself, to the count, and to the +serfs- made some concessions. Continuing to represent the liberation +of the serfs as impracticable, he arranged for the erection of large +buildings- schools, hospitals, and asylums- on all the estates +before the master arrived. Everywhere preparations were made not for +ceremonious welcomes (which he knew Pierre would not like), but for +just such gratefully religious ones, with offerings of icons and the +bread and salt of hospitality, as, according to his understanding of +his master, would touch and delude him. + +The southern spring, the comfortable rapid traveling in a Vienna +carriage, and the solitude of the road, all had a gladdening effect on +Pierre. The estates he had not before visited were each more +picturesque than the other; the serfs everywhere seemed thriving and +touchingly grateful for the benefits conferred on them. Everywhere +were receptions, which though they embarrassed Pierre awakened a +joyful feeling in the depth of his heart. In one place the peasants +presented him with bread and salt and an icon of Saint Peter and Saint +Paul, asking permission, as a mark of their gratitude for the benefits +he had conferred on them, to build a new chantry to the church at +their own expense in honor of Peter and Paul, his patron saints. In +another place the women with infants in arms met him to thank him +for releasing them from hard work. On a third estate the priest, +bearing a cross, came to meet him surrounded by children whom, by +the count's generosity, he was instructing in reading, writing, and +religion. On all his estates Pierre saw with his own eyes brick +buildings erected or in course of erection, all on one plan, for +hospitals, schools, and almshouses, which were soon to be opened. +Everywhere he saw the stewards' accounts, according to which the +serfs' manorial labor had been diminished, and heard the touching +thanks of deputations of serfs in their full-skirted blue coats. + +What Pierre did not know was that the place where they presented him +with bread and salt and wished to build a chantry in honor of Peter +and Paul was a market village where a fair was held on St. Peter's +day, and that the richest peasants (who formed the deputation) had +begun the chantry long before, but that nine tenths of the peasants in +that villages were in a state of the greatest poverty. He did not know +that since the nursing mothers were no longer sent to work on his +land, they did still harder work on their own land. He did not know +that the priest who met him with the cross oppressed the peasants by +his exactions, and that the pupils' parents wept at having to let +him take their children and secured their release by heavy payments. +He did not know that the brick buildings, built to plan, were being +built by serfs whose manorial labor was thus increased, though +lessened on paper. He did not know that where the steward had shown +him in the accounts that the serfs' payments had been diminished by +a third, their obligatory manorial work had been increased by a +half. And so Pierre was delighted with his visit to his estates and +quite recovered the philanthropic mood in which he had left +Petersburg, and wrote enthusiastic letters to his "brother-instructor" +as he called the Grand Master. + +"How easy it is, how little effort it needs, to do so much good," +thought Pierre, "and how little attention we pay to it!" + +He was pleased at the gratitude he received, but felt abashed at +receiving it. This gratitude reminded him of how much more he might do +for these simple, kindly people. + +The chief steward, a very stupid but cunning man who saw perfectly +through the naive and intelligent count and played with him as with +a toy, seeing the effect these prearranged receptions had on Pierre, +pressed him still harder with proofs of the impossibility and above +all the uselessness of freeing the serfs, who were quite happy as it +was. + +Pierre in his secret soul agreed with the steward that it would be +difficult to imagine happier people, and that God only knew what would +happen to them when they were free, but he insisted, though +reluctantly, on what he thought right. The steward promised to do +all in his power to carry out the count's wishes, seeing clearly +that not only would the count never be able to find out whether all +measures had been taken for the sale of the land and forests and to +release them from the Land Bank, but would probably never even inquire +and would never know that the newly erected buildings were standing +empty and that the serfs continued to give in money and work all +that other people's serfs gave- that is to say, all that could be +got out of them. + +CHAPTER XI + +Returning from his journey through South Russia in the happiest +state of mind, Pierre carried out an intention he had long had of +visiting his friend Bolkonski, whom he had not seen for two years. + +Bogucharovo lay in a flat uninteresting part of the country among +fields and forests of fir and birch, which were partly cut down. The +house lay behind a newly dug pond filled with water to the brink and +with banks still bare of grass. It was at the end of a village that +stretched along the highroad in the midst of a young copse in which +were a few fir trees. + +The homestead consisted of a threshing floor, outhouses, stables, +a bathhouse, a lodge, and a large brick house with semicircular facade +still in course of construction. Round the house was a garden newly +laid out. The fences and gates were new and solid; two fire pumps +and a water cart, painted green, stood in a shed; the paths were +straight, the bridges were strong and had handrails. Everything bore +an impress of tidiness and good management. Some domestic serfs Pierre +met, in reply to inquiries as to where the prince lived, pointed out a +small newly built lodge close to the pond. Anton, a man who had looked +after Prince Andrew in his boyhood, helped Pierre out of his carriage, +said that the prince was at home, and showed him into a clean little +anteroom. + +Pierre was struck by the modesty of the small though clean house +after the brilliant surroundings in which he had last met his friend +in Petersburg. + +He quickly entered the small reception room with its +still-unplastered wooden walls redolent of pine, and would have gone +farther, but Anton ran ahead on tiptoe and knocked at a door. + +"Well, what is it?" came a sharp, unpleasant voice. + +"A visitor," answered Anton. + +"Ask him to wait," and the sound was heard of a chair being pushed +back. + +Pierre went with rapid steps to the door and suddenly came face to +face with Prince Andrew, who came out frowning and looking old. Pierre +embraced him and lifting his spectacles kissed his friend on the cheek +and looked at him closely. + +"Well, I did not expect you, I am very glad," said Prince Andrew. + +Pierre said nothing; he looked fixedly at his friend with +surprise. He was struck by the change in him. His words were kindly +and there was a smile on his lips and face, but his eyes were dull and +lifeless and in spite of his evident wish to do so he could not give +them a joyous and glad sparkle. Prince Andrew had grown thinner, +paler, and more manly-looking, but what amazed and estranged Pierre +till he got used to it were his inertia and a wrinkle on his brow +indicating prolonged concentration on some one thought. + +As is usually the case with people meeting after a prolonged +separation, it was long before their conversation could settle on +anything. They put questions and gave brief replies about things +they knew ought to be talked over at length. At last the +conversation gradually settled on some of the topics at first +lightly touched on: their past life, plans for the future, Pierre's +journeys and occupations, the war, and so on. The preoccupation and +despondency which Pierre had noticed in his friend's look was now +still more clearly expressed in the smile with which he listened to +Pierre, especially when he spoke with joyful animation of the past +or the future. It was as if Prince Andrew would have liked to +sympathize with what Pierre was saying, but could not. The latter +began to feel that it was in bad taste to speak of his enthusiasms, +dreams, and hopes of happiness or goodness, in Prince Andrew's +presence. He was ashamed to express his new Masonic views, which had +been particularly revived and strengthened by his late tour. He +checked himself, fearing to seem naive, yet he felt an irresistible +desire to show his friend as soon as possible that he was now a +quite different, and better, Pierre than he had been in Petersburg. + +"I can't tell you how much I have lived through since then. I hardly +know myself again." + +"Yes, we have altered much, very much, since then," said Prince +Andrew. + +"Well, and you? What are your plans?" + +"Plans!" repeated Prince Andrew ironically. "My plans?" he said, +as if astonished at the word. "Well, you see, I'm building. I mean +to settle here altogether next year...." + +Pierre looked silently and searchingly into Prince Andrew's face, +which had grown much older. + +"No, I meant to ask..." Pierre began, but Prince Andrew +interrupted him. + +"But why talk of me?... Talk to me, yes, tell me about your +travels and all you have been doing on your estates." + +Pierre began describing what he had done on his estates, trying as +far as possible to conceal his own part in the improvements that had +been made. Prince Andrew several times prompted Pierre's story of what +he had been doing, as though it were all an old-time story, and he +listened not only without interest but even as if ashamed of what +Pierre was telling him. + +Pierre felt uncomfortable and even depressed in his friend's company +and at last became silent. + +"I'll tell you what, my dear fellow," said Prince Andrew, who +evidently also felt depressed and constrained with his visitor, "I +am only bivouacking here and have just come to look round. I am +going back to my sister today. I will introduce you to her. But of +course you know her already," he said, evidently trying to entertain a +visitor with whom he now found nothing in common. "We will go after +dinner. And would you now like to look round my place?" + +They went out and walked about till dinnertime, talking of the +political news and common acquaintances like people who do not know +each other intimately. Prince Andrew spoke with some animation and +interest only of the new homestead he was constructing and its +buildings, but even here, while on the scaffolding, in the midst of +a talk explaining the future arrangements of the house, he interrupted +himself: + +"However, this is not at all interesting. Let us have dinner, and +then we'll set off." + +At dinner, conversation turned on Pierre's marriage. + +"I was very much surprised when I heard of it," said Prince Andrew. + +Pierre blushed, as he always did when it was mentioned, and said +hurriedly: "I will tell you some time how it all happened. But you +know it is all over, and forever." + +"Forever?" said Prince Andrew. "Nothing's forever." + +"But you know how it all ended, don't you? You heard of the duel?" + +"And so you had to go through that too!" + +"One thing I thank God for is that I did not kill that man," said +Pierre. + +"Why so?" asked Prince Andrew. "To kill a vicious dog is a very good +thing really." + +"No, to kill a man is bad- wrong." + +"Why is it wrong?" urged Prince Andrew. "It is not given to man to +know what is right and what is wrong. Men always did and always will +err, and in nothing more than in what they consider right and wrong." + +"What does harm to another is wrong," said Pierre, feeling with +pleasure that for the first time since his arrival Prince Andrew was +roused, had begun to talk, and wanted to express what had brought +him to his present state. + +"And who has told you what is bad for another man?" he asked. + +"Bad! Bad!" exclaimed Pierre. "We all know what is bad for +ourselves." + +"Yes, we know that, but the harm I am conscious of in myself is +something I cannot inflict on others," said Prince Andrew, growing +more and more animated and evidently wishing to express his new +outlook to Pierre. He spoke in French. "I only know two very real +evils in life: remorse and illness. The only good is the absence of +those evils. To live for myself avoiding those two evils is my whole +philosophy now." + +"And love of one's neighbor, and self-sacrifice?" began Pierre. "No, +I can't agree with you! To live only so as not to do evil and not to +have to repent is not enough. I lived like that, I lived for myself +and ruined my life. And only now when I am living, or at least trying" +(Pierre's modesty made him correct himself) "to live for others, +only now have I understood all the happiness of life. No, I shall +not agree with you, and you do not really believe what you are +saying." Prince Andrew looked silently at Pierre with an ironic smile. + +"When you see my sister, Princess Mary, you'll get on with her," +he said. "Perhaps you are right for yourself," he added after a +short pause, "but everyone lives in his own way. You lived for +yourself and say you nearly ruined your life and only found +happiness when you began living for others. I experienced just the +reverse. I lived for glory.- And after all what is glory? The same +love of others, a desire to do something for them, a desire for +their approval.- So I lived for others, and not almost, but quite, +ruined my life. And I have become calmer since I began to live only +for myself." + +"But what do you mean by living only for yourself?" asked Pierre, +growing excited. "What about your son, your sister, and your father?" + +"But that's just the same as myself- they are not others," explained +Prince Andrew. "The others, one's neighbors, le prochain, as you and +Princess Mary call it, are the chief source of all error and evil. +Le prochain- your Kiev peasants to whom you want to do good." + +And he looked at Pierre with a mocking, challenging expression. He +evidently wished to draw him on. + +"You are joking," replied Pierre, growing more and more excited. +"What error or evil can there be in my wishing to do good, and even +doing a little- though I did very little and did it very badly? What +evil can there be in it if unfortunate people, our serfs, people +like ourselves, were growing up and dying with no idea of God and +truth beyond ceremonies and meaningless prayers and are now instructed +in a comforting belief in future life, retribution, recompense, and +consolation? What evil and error are there in it, if people were dying +of disease without help while material assistance could so easily be +rendered, and I supplied them with a doctor, a hospital, and an asylum +for the aged? And is it not a palpable, unquestionable good if a +peasant, or a woman with a baby, has no rest day or night and I give +them rest and leisure?" said Pierre, hurrying and lisping. "And I have +done that though badly and to a small extent; but I have done +something toward it and you cannot persuade me that it was not a +good action, and more than that, you can't make me believe that you do +not think so yourself. And the main thing is," he continued, "that I +know, and know for certain, that the enjoyment of doing this good is +the only sure happiness in life." + +"Yes, if you put it like that it's quite a different matter," said +Prince Andrew. "I build a house and lay out a garden, and you build +hospitals. The one and the other may serve as a pastime. But what's +right and what's good must be judged by one who knows all, but not +by us. Well, you want an argument," he added, come on then." + +They rose from the table and sat down in the entrance porch which +served as a veranda. + +"Come, let's argue then," said Prince Andrew, "You talk of schools," +he went on, crooking a finger, "education and so forth; that is, you +want to raise him" (pointing to a peasant who passed by them taking +off his cap) "from his animal condition and awaken in him spiritual +needs, while it seems to me that animal happiness is the only +happiness possible, and that is just what you want to deprive him +of. I envy him, but you want to make him what I am, without giving him +my means. Then you say, 'lighten his toil.' But as I see it, +physical labor is as essential to him, as much a condition of his +existence, as mental activity is to you or me. You can't help +thinking. I go to bed after two in the morning, thoughts come and I +can't sleep but toss about till dawn, because I think and can't help +thinking, just as he can't help plowing and mowing; if he didn't, he +would go to the drink shop or fall ill. Just as I could not stand +his terrible physical labor but should die of it in a week, so he +could not stand my physical idleness, but would grow fat and die. +The third thing- what else was it you talked about?" and Prince Andrew +crooked a third finger. "Ah, yes, hospitals, medicine. He has a fit, +he is dying, and you come and bleed him and patch him up. He will drag +about as a cripple, a burden to everybody, for another ten years. It +would be far easier and simpler for him to die. Others are being +born and there are plenty of them as it is. It would be different if +you grudged losing a laborer- that's how I regard him- but you want to +cure him from love of him. And he does not want that. And besides, +what a notion that medicine ever cured anyone! Killed them, yes!" said +he, frowning angrily and turning away from Pierre. + +Prince Andrew expressed his ideas so clearly and distinctly that +it was evident he had reflected on this subject more than once, and he +spoke readily and rapidly like a man who has not talked for a long +time. His glance became more animated as his conclusions became more +hopeless. + +"Oh, that is dreadful, dreadful!" said Pierre. "I don't understand +how one can live with such ideas. I had such moments myself not long +ago, in Moscow and when traveling, but at such times I collapsed so +that I don't live at all- everything seems hateful to me... myself + +most of all. Then I don't eat, don't wash... and how is it with +you?..." + +"Why not wash? That is not cleanly," said Prince Andrew; "on the +contrary one must try to make one's life as pleasant as possible. +I'm alive, that is not my fault, so I must live out my life as best +I can without hurting others." + +"But with such ideas what motive have you for living? One would +sit without moving, undertaking nothing...." + +"Life as it is leaves one no peace. I should be thankful to do +nothing, but here on the one hand the local nobility have done me +the honor to choose me to be their marshal; it was all I could do to +get out of it. They could not understand that I have not the necessary +qualifications for it- the kind of good-natured, fussy shallowness +necessary for the position. Then there's this house, which must be +built in order to have a nook of one's own in which to be quiet. And +now there's this recruiting." + +"Why aren't you serving in the army?" + +"After Austerlitz!" said Prince Andrew gloomily. "No, thank you very +much! I have promised myself not to serve again in the active +Russian army. And I won't- not even if Bonaparte were here at Smolensk +threatening Bald Hills- even then I wouldn't serve in the Russian +army! Well, as I was saying," he continued, recovering his +composure, "now there's this recruiting. My father is chief in command +of the Third District, and my only way of avoiding active service is +to serve under him." + +"Then you are serving?" + +"I am." + +He paused a little while. + +"And why do you serve?" + +"Why, for this reason! My father is one of the most remarkable men +of his time. But he is growing old, and though not exactly cruel he +has too energetic a character. He is so accustomed to unlimited +power that he is terrible, and now he has this authority of a +commander in chief of the recruiting, granted by the Emperor. If I had +been two hours late a fortnight ago he would have had a paymaster's +clerk at Yukhnovna hanged," said Prince Andrew with a smile. "So I +am serving because I alone have any influence with my father, and +now and then can save him from actions which would torment him +afterwards." + +"Well, there you see!" + +"Yes, but it is not as you imagine," Prince Andrew continued. "I did +not, and do not, in the least care about that scoundrel of a clerk who +had stolen some boots from the recruits; I should even have been +very glad to see him hanged, but I was sorry for my father- that again +is for myself." + +Prince Andrew grew more and more animated. His eyes glittered +feverishly while he tried to prove to Pierre that in his actions there +was no desire to do good to his neighbor. + +"There now, you wish to liberate your serfs," he continued; "that is +a very good thing, but not for you- I don't suppose you ever had +anyone flogged or sent to Siberia- and still less for your serfs. If +they are beaten, flogged, or sent to Siberia, I don't suppose they are +any the worse off. In Siberia they lead the same animal life, and +the stripes on their bodies heal, and they are happy as before. But it +is a good thing for proprietors who perish morally, bring remorse upon +themselves, stifle this remorse and grow callous, as a result of being +able to inflict punishments justly and unjustly. It is those people +I pity, and for their sake I should like to liberate the serfs. You +may not have seen, but I have seen, how good men brought up in those +traditions of unlimited power, in time when they grow more +irritable, become cruel and harsh, are conscious of it, but cannot +restrain themselves and grow more and more miserable." + +Prince Andrew spoke so earnestly that Pierre could not help thinking +that these thoughts had been suggested to Prince Andrew by his +father's case. + +He did not reply. + +"So that's what I'm sorry for- human dignity, peace of mind, purity, +and not the serfs' backs and foreheads, which, beat and shave as you +may, always remain the same backs and foreheads." + +"No, no! A thousand times no! I shall never agree with you," said +Pierre. + +CHAPTER XII + +In the evening Andrew and Pierre got into the open carriage and +drove to Bald Hills. Prince Andrew, glancing at Pierre, broke the +silence now and then with remarks which showed that he was in a good +temper. + +Pointing to the fields, he spoke of the improvements he was making +in his husbandry. + +Pierre remained gloomily silent, answering in monosyllables and +apparently immersed in his own thoughts. + +He was thinking that Prince Andrew was unhappy, had gone astray, did +not see the true light, and that he, Pierre, ought to aid, +enlighten, and raise him. But as soon as he thought of what he +should say, he felt that Prince Andrew with one word, one argument, +would upset all his teaching, and he shrank from beginning, afraid +of exposing to possible ridicule what to him was precious and sacred. + +"No, but why do you think so?" Pierre suddenly began, lowering his +head and looking like a bull about to charge, "why do you think so? +You should not think so." + +"Think? What about?" asked Prince Andrew with surprise. + +"About life, about man's destiny. It can't be so. I myself thought +like that, and do you know what saved me? Freemasonry! No, don't +smile. Freemasonry is not a religious ceremonial sect, as I thought it +was: Freemasonry is the best expression of the best, the eternal, +aspects of humanity." + +And he began to explain Freemasonry as he understood it to Prince +Andrew. He said that Freemasonry is the teaching of Christianity freed +from the bonds of State and Church, a teaching of equality, +brotherhood, and love. + +"Only our holy brotherhood has the real meaning of life, all the +rest is a dream," said Pierre. "Understand, my dear fellow, that +outside this union all is filled with deceit and falsehood and I agree +with you that nothing is left for an intelligent and good man but to +live out his life, like you, merely trying not to harm others. But +make our fundamental convictions your own, join our brotherhood, +give yourself up to us, let yourself be guided, and you will at once +feel yourself, as I have felt myself, a part of that vast invisible +chain the beginning of which is hidden in heaven," said Pierre. + +Prince Andrew, looking straight in front of him, listened in silence +to Pierre's words. More than once, when the noise of the wheels +prevented his catching what Pierre said, he asked him to repeat it, +and by the peculiar glow that came into Prince Andrew's eyes and by +his silence, Pierre saw that his words were not in vain and that +Prince Andrew would not interrupt him or laugh at what he said. + +They reached a river that had overflowed its banks and which they +had to cross by ferry. While the carriage and horses were being placed +on it, they also stepped on the raft. + +Prince Andrew, leaning his arms on the raft railing, gazed +silently at the flooding waters glittering in the setting sun. + +"Well, what do you think about it?" Pierre asked. "Why are you +silent?" + +"What do I think about it? I am listening to you. It's all very +well.... You say: join our brotherhood and we will show you the aim of +life, the destiny of man, and the laws which govern the world. But who +are we? Men. How is it you know everything? Why do I alone not see +what you see? You see a reign of goodness and truth on earth, but I +don't see it." + +Pierre interrupted him. + +"Do you believe in a future life?" he asked. + +"A future life?" Prince Andrew repeated, but Pierre, giving him no +time to reply, took the repetition for a denial, the more readily as +he knew Prince Andrew's former atheistic convictions. + +"You say you can't see a reign of goodness and truth on earth. Nor +could I, and it cannot be seen if one looks on our life here as the +end of everything. On earth, here on this earth" (Pierre pointed to +the fields), "there is no truth, all is false and evil; but in the +universe, in the whole universe there is a kingdom of truth, and we +who are now the children of earth are- eternally- children of the +whole universe. Don't I feel in my soul that I am part of this vast +harmonious whole? Don't I feel that I form one link, one step, between +the lower and higher beings, in this vast harmonious multitude of +beings in whom the Deity- the Supreme Power if you prefer the term- is +manifest? If I see, clearly see, that ladder leading from plant to +man, why should I suppose it breaks off at me and does not go +farther and farther? I feel that I cannot vanish, since nothing +vanishes in this world, but that I shall always exist and always +have existed. I feel that beyond me and above me there are spirits, +and that in this world there is truth." + +"Yes, that is Herder's theory," said Prince Andrew, "but it is not +that which can convince me, dear friend- life and death are what +convince. What convinces is when one sees a being dear to one, bound +up with one's own life, before whom one was to blame and had hoped +to make it right" (Prince Andrew's voice trembled and he turned away), +"and suddenly that being is seized with pain, suffers, and ceases to +exist.... Why? It cannot be that there is no answer. And I believe +there is.... That's what convinces, that is what has convinced me," +said Prince Andrew. + +"Yes, yes, of course," said Pierre, "isn't that what I'm saying?" + +"No. All I say is that it is not argument that convinces me of the +necessity of a future life, but this: when you go hand in hand with +someone and all at once that person vanishes there, into nowhere, +and you yourself are left facing that abyss, and look in. And I have +looked in...." + +"Well, that's it then! You know that there is a there and there is a +Someone? There is the future life. The Someone is- God." + +Prince Andrew did not reply. The carriage and horses had long +since been taken off, onto the farther bank, and reharnessed. The +sun had sunk half below the horizon and an evening frost was +starring the puddles near the ferry, but Pierre and Andrew, to the +astonishment of the footmen, coachmen, and ferrymen, still stood on +the raft and talked. + +"If there is a God and future life, there is truth and good, and +man's highest happiness consists in striving to attain them. We must +live, we must love, and we must believe that we live not only today on +this scrap of earth, but have lived and shall live forever, there, +in the Whole," said Pierre, and he pointed to the sky. + +Prince Andrew stood leaning on the railing of the raft listening +to Pierre, and he gazed with his eyes fixed on the red reflection of +the sun gleaming on the blue waters. There was perfect stillness. +Pierre became silent. The raft had long since stopped and only the +waves of the current beat softly against it below. Prince Andrew +felt as if the sound of the waves kept up a refrain to Pierre's words, +whispering: + +"It is true, believe it." + +He sighed, and glanced with a radiant, childlike, tender look at +Pierre's face, flushed and rapturous, but yet shy before his +superior friend. + +"Yes, if it only were so!" said Prince Andrew. "However, it is +time to get on," he added, and, stepping off the raft, he looked up at +the sky to which Pierre had pointed, and for the first time since +Austerlitz saw that high, everlasting sky he had seen while lying on +that battlefield; and something that had long been slumbering, +something that was best within him, suddenly awoke, joyful and +youthful, in his soul. It vanished as soon as he returned to the +customary conditions of his life, but he knew that this feeling +which he did not know how to develop existed within him. His meeting +with Pierre formed an epoch in Prince Andrew's life. Though +outwardly he continued to live in the same old way, inwardly he +began a new life. + +CHAPTER XIII + +It was getting dusk when Prince Andrew and Pierre drove up to the +front entrance of the house at Bald Hills. As they approached the +house, Prince Andrew with asmile drew Pierre's attention to a +commotion going on at the back porch. A woman, bent with age, with a +wallet on her back, and a short, long-haired, young man in a black +garment had rushed back to the gate on seeing the carriage driving up. +Two women ran out after them, and all four, looking round at the +carriage, ran in dismay up the steps of the back porch. + +"Those are Mary's 'God's folk,'" said Prince Andrew. "They have +mistaken us for my father. This is the one matter in which she +disobeys him. He orders these pilgrims to be driven away, but she +receives them." + +"But what are 'God's folk'?" asked Pierre. + +Prince Andrew had no time to answer. The servants came out to meet +them, and he asked where the old prince was and whether he was +expected back soon. + +The old prince had gone to the town and was expected back any +minute. + +Prince Andrew led Pierre to his own apartments, which were always +kept in perfect order and readiness for him in his father's house; +he himself went to the nursery. + +"Let us go and see my sister," he said to Pierre when he returned. +"I have not found her yet, she is hiding now, sitting with her +'God's folk.' It will serve her right, she will be confused, but you +will see her 'God's folk.' It's really very curious." + +"What are 'God's folk'?" asked Pierre. + +"Come, and you'll see for yourself." + +Princess Mary really was disconcerted and red patches came on her +face when they went in. In her snug room, with lamps burning before +the icon stand, a young lad with a long nose and long hair, wearing +a monk's cassock, sat on the sofa beside her, behind a samovar. Near +them, in an armchair, sat a thin, shriveled, old woman, with a meek +expression on her childlike face. + +"Andrew, why didn't you warn me?" said the princess, with mild +reproach, as she stood before her pilgrims like a hen before her +chickens. + +"Charmee de vous voir. Je suis tres contente de vous voir,"~^ she +said to Pierre as he kissed her hand. She had known him as a child, +and now his friendship with Andrew, his misfortune with his wife, +and above all his kindly, simple face disposed her favorably toward +him. She looked at him with her beautiful radiant eyes and seemed to +say, "I like you very much, but please don't laugh at my people." +After exchanging the first greetings, they sat down. + +^~ "Delighted to see you. I am very glad to see you." + +"Ah, and Ivanushka is here too!" said Prince Andrew, glancing with a +smile at the young pilgrim. + +"Andrew!" said Princess Mary, imploringly. "Il faut que vous sachiez +que c'est une femme,"~^ said Prince Andrew to Pierre. + +"Andrew, au nom de Dieu!"~^ Princess Mary repeated. + +^~ "You must know that this is a woman." + +^~ "For heaven's sake." + +It was evident that Prince Andrew's ironical tone toward the +pilgrims and Princess Mary's helpless attempts to protect them were +their customary long-established relations on the matter. + +"Mais, ma bonne amie," said Prince Andrew, "vous devriez au +contraire m'etre reconnaissante de ce que j'explique a Pierre votre +intimite avec ce jeune homme."~^ + +^~ "But, my dear, you ought on the contrary to be grateful to me for +explaining to Pierre your intimacy with this young man." + +"Really?" said Pierre, gazing over his spectacles with curiosity and +seriousness (for which Princess Mary was specially grateful to him) +into Ivanushka's face, who, seeing that she was being spoken about, +looked round at them all with crafty eyes. + +Princess Mary's embarrassment on her people's account was quite +unnecessary. They were not in the least abashed. The old woman, +lowering her eyes but casting side glances at the newcomers, had +turned her cup upside down and placed a nibbled bit of sugar beside +it, and sat quietly in her armchair, though hoping to be offered +another cup of tea. Ivanushka, sipping out of her saucer, looked +with sly womanish eyes from under her brows at the young men. + +"Where have you been? To Kiev?" Prince Andrew asked the old woman. + +"I have, good sir," she answered garrulously. "Just at Christmastime +I was deemed worthy to partake of the holy and heavenly sacrament at +the shrine of the saint. And now I'm from Kolyazin, master, where a +great and wonderful blessing has been revealed." + +"And was Ivanushka with you?" + +"I go by myself, benefactor," said Ivanushka, trying to speak in a +bass voice. "I only came across Pelageya in Yukhnovo..." + +Pelageya interrupted her companion; she evidently wished to tell +what she had seen. + +"In Kolyazin, master, a wonderful blessing has been revealed." + +"What is it? Some new relics?" asked Prince Andrew. + +"Andrew, do leave off," said Princess Mary. "Don't tell him, +Pelageya." + +"No... why not, my dear, why shouldn't I? I like him. He is kind, he +is one of God's chosen, he's a benefactor, he once gave me ten rubles, +I remember. When I was in Kiev, Crazy Cyril says to me (he's one of +God's own and goes barefoot summer and winter), he says, 'Why are +you not going to the right place? Go to Kolyazin where a +wonder-working icon of the Holy Mother of God has been revealed.' On +hearing those words I said good-by to the holy folk and went." + +All were silent, only the pilgrim woman went on in measured tones, +drawing in her breath. + +"So I come, master, and the people say to me: 'A great blessing +has been revealed, holy oil trickles from the cheeks of our blessed +Mother, the Holy Virgin Mother of God'...." + +"All right, all right, you can tell us afterwards," said Princess +Mary, flushing. + +"Let me ask her," said Pierre. "Did you see it yourselves?" he +inquired. + +"Oh, yes, master, I was found worthy. Such a brightness on the +face like the light of heaven, and from the blessed Mother's cheek +it drops and drops...." + +"But, dear me, that must be a fraud!" said Pierre, naively, who +had listened attentively to the pilgrim. + +"Oh, master, what are you saying?" exclaimed the horrified Pelageya, +turning to Princess Mary for support. + +"They impose on the people," he repeated. + +"Lord Jesus Christ!" exclaimed the pilgrim woman, crossing +herself. "Oh, don't speak so, master! There was a general who did +not believe, and said, 'The monks cheat,' and as soon as he'd said +it he went blind. And he dreamed that the Holy Virgin Mother of the +Kiev catacombs came to him and said, 'Believe in me and I will make +you whole.' So he begged: 'Take me to her, take me to her.' It's the +real truth I'm telling you, I saw it myself. So he was brought, +quite blind, straight to her, and he goes up to her and falls down and +says, 'Make me whole,' says he, 'and I'll give thee what the Tsar +bestowed on me.' I saw it myself, master, the star is fixed into the +icon. Well, and what do you think? He received his sight! It's a sin +to speak so. God will punish you," she said admonishingly, turning +to Pierre. + +"How did the star get into the icon?" Pierre asked. + +"And was the Holy Mother promoted to the rank of general?" said +Prince Andrew, with a smile. + +Pelageya suddenly grew quite pale and clasped her hands. + +"Oh, master, master, what a sin! And you who have a son!" she began, +her pallor suddenly turning to a vivid red. "Master, what have you +said? God forgive you!" And she crossed herself. "Lord forgive him! My +dear, what does it mean?..." she asked, turning to Princess Mary. +She got up and, almost crying, began to arrange her wallet. She +evidently felt frightened and ashamed to have accepted charity in a +house where such things could be said, and was at the same time +sorry to have now to forgo the charity of this house. + +"Now, why need you do it?" said Princess Mary. "Why did you come +to me?..." + +"Come, Pelageya, I was joking," said Pierre. "Princesse, ma +parole, je n'ai pas voulu l'offenser.~^ I did not mean anything, I +was only joking," he said, smiling shyly and trying to efface his +offense. "It was all my fault, and Andrew was only joking." + +^~ "Princess, on my word, I did not wish to offend her." + +Pelageya stopped doubtfully, but in Pierre's face there was such a +look of sincere penitence, and Prince Andrew glanced so meekly now +at her and now at Pierre, that she was gradually reassured. + +CHAPTER XIV + +The pilgrim woman was appeased and, being encouraged to talk, gave a +long account of Father Amphilochus, who led so holy a life that his +hands smelled of incense, and how on her last visit to Kiev some monks +she knew let her have the keys of the catacombs, and how she, taking +some dried bread with her, had spent two days in the catacombs with +the saints. "I'd pray awhile to one, ponder awhile, then go on to +another. I'd sleep a bit and then again go and kiss the relics, and +there was such peace all around, such blessedness, that one don't want +to come out, even into the light of heaven again." + +Pierre listened to her attentively and seriously. Prince Andrew went +out of the room, and then, leaving "God's folk" to finish their tea, +Princess Mary took Pierre into the drawing room. + +"You are very kind," she said to him. + +"Oh, I really did not mean to hurt her feelings. I understand them +so well and have the greatest respect for them." + +Princess Mary looked at him silently and smiled affectionately. + +"I have known you a long time, you see, and am as fond of you as +of a brother," she said. "How do you find Andrew?" she added +hurriedly, not giving him time to reply to her affectionate words. +"I am very anxious about him. His health was better in the winter, but +last spring his wound reopened and the doctor said he ought to go away +for a cure. And I am also very much afraid for him spiritually. He has +not a character like us women who, when we suffer, can weep away our +sorrows. He keeps it all within him. Today he is cheerful and in +good spirits, but that is the effect of your visit- he is not often +like that. If you could persuade him to go abroad. He needs +activity, and this quiet regular life is very bad for him. Others +don't notice it, but I see it." + +Toward ten o'clock the men servants rushed to the front door, +hearing the bells of the old prince's carriage approaching. Prince +Andrew and Pierre also went out into the porch. + +"Who's that?" asked the old prince, noticing Pierre as he got out +of, the carriage. + +"Ah! Very glad! Kiss me," he said, having learned who the young +stranger was. + +The old prince was in a good temper and very gracious to Pierre. + +Before supper, Prince Andrew, coming back to his father's study, +found him disputing hotly with his visitor. Pierre was maintaining +that a time would come when there would be no more wars. The old +prince disputed it chaffingly, but without getting angry. + +"Drain the blood from men's veins and put in water instead, then +there will be no more war! Old women's nonsense- old women's +nonsense!" he repeated, but still he patted Pierre affectionately on +the shoulder, and then went up to the table where Prince Andrew, +evidently not wishing to join in the conversation, was looking over +the papers his father had brought from town. The old prince went up to +him and began to talk business. + +"The marshal, a Count Rostov, hasn't sent half his contingent. He +came to town and wanted to invite me to dinner- I gave him a pretty +dinner!... And there, look at this.... Well, my boy," the old prince +went on, addressing his son and patting Pierre on the shoulder. "A +fine fellow- your friend- I like him! He stirs me up. Another says +clever things and one doesn't care to listen, but this one talks +rubbish yet stirs an old fellow up. Well, go! Get along! Perhaps +I'll come and sit with you at supper. We'll have another dispute. Make +friends with my little fool, Princess Mary," he shouted after +Pierre, through the door. + +Only now, on his visit to Bald Hills, did Pierre fully realize the +strength and charm of his friendship with Prince Andrew. That charm +was not expressed so much in his relations with him as with all his +family and with the household. With the stern old prince and the +gentle, timid Princess Mary, though he had scarcely known them, Pierre +at once felt like an old friend. They were all fond of him already. +Not only Princess Mary, who had been won by his gentleness with the +pilgrims, gave him her most radiant looks, but even the one-year-old +"Prince Nicholas" (as his grandfather called him) smiled at Pierre and +let himself be taken in his arms, and Michael Ivanovich and +Mademoiselle Bourienne looked at him with pleasant smiles when he +talked to the old prince. + +The old prince came in to supper; this was evidently on Pierre's +account. And during the two days of the young man's visit he was +extremely kind to him and told him to visit them again. + +When Pierre had gone and the members of the household met +together, they began to express their opinions of him as people always +do after a new acquaintance has left, but as seldom happens, no one +said anything but what was good of him. + +CHAPTER XV + +When returning from his leave, Rostov felt, for the first time, +how close was the bond that united him to Denisov and and the whole +regiment. + +On approaching it, Rostov felt as he had done when approaching his +home in Moscow. When he saw the first hussar with the unbuttoned +uniform of his regiment, when he recognized red-haired Dementyev and +saw the picket ropes of the roan horses, when Lavrushka gleefully +shouted to his master, "The count has come!" and Denisov, who had been +asleep on his bed, ran all disheveled out of the mud hut to embrace +him, and the officers collected round to greet the new arrival, Rostov +experienced the same feeling his mother, his father, and his sister +had embraced him, and tears of joy choked him so that he could not +speak. The regiment was also a home, and as unalterably dear and +precious as his parents' house. + +When he had reported himself to the commander of the regiment and +had been reassigned to his former squadron, had been on duty and had +gone out foraging, when he had again entered into all the little +interests of the regiment and felt himself deprived of liberty and +bound in one narrow, unchanging frame, he experienced the same sense +of peace, of moral support, and the same sense being at home here in +his own place, as he had felt under the parental roof. But here was +none of all that turmoil of the world at large, where he did not +know his right place and took mistaken decisions; here was no Sonya +with whom he ought, or ought not, to have an explanation; here was +no possibility of going there or not going there; here there were +not twenty-four hours in the day which could be spent in such a +variety of ways; there was not that innumerable crowd of people of +whom not one was nearer to him or farther from him than another; there +were none of those uncertain and undefined money relations with his +father, and nothing to recall that terrible loss to Dolokhov. Here, in +the regiment, all was clear and simple. The whole world was divided +into two unequal parts: one, our Pavlograd regiment; the other, all +the rest. And the rest was no concern of his. In the regiment, +everything was definite: who was lieutenant, who captain, who was a +good fellow, who a bad one, and most of all, who was a comrade. The +canteenkeeper gave one credit, one's pay came every four months, there +was nothing to think out or decide, you had only to do nothing that +was considered bad in the Pavlograd regiment and, when given an order, +to do what was clearly, distinctly, and definitely ordered- and all +would be well. + +Having once more entered into the definite conditions of this +regimental life, Rostov felt the joy and relief a tired man feels on +lying down to rest. Life in the regiment, during this campaign, was +all the pleasanter for him, because, after his loss to Dolokhov (for +which, in spite of all his family's efforts to console him, he could +not forgive himself), he had made up his mind to atone for his fault +by serving, not as he had done before, but really well, and by being a +perfectly first-rate comrade and officer- in a word, a splendid man +altogether, a thing which seemed so difficult out in the world, but so +possible in the regiment. + +After his losses, he had determined to pay back his debt to his +parents in five years. He received ten thousand rubles a year, but now +resolved to take only two thousand and leave the rest to repay the +debt to his parents. + +Our army, after repeated retreats and advances and battles at +Pultusk and Preussisch-Eylau, was concentrated near Bartenstein. It +was awaiting the Emperor's arrival and the beginning of a new +campaign. + +The Pavlograd regiment, belonging to that part of the army which had +served in the 1805 campaign, had been recruiting up to strength in +Russia, and arrived too late to take part in the first actions of +the campaign. It had been neither at Pultusk nor at Preussisch-Eylau +and, when it joined the army in the field in the second half of the +campaign, was attached to Platov's division. + +Platov's division was acting independently of the main army. Several +times parts of the Pavlograd regiment had exchanged shots with the +enemy, had taken prisoners, and once had even captured Marshal +Oudinot's carriages. In April the Pavlograds were stationed +immovably for some weeks near a totally ruined and deserted German +village. + +A thaw had set in, it was muddy and cold, the ice on the river +broke, and the roads became impassable. For days neither provisions +for the men nor fodder for the horses had been issued. As no +transports could arrive, the men dispersed about the abandoned and +deserted villages, searching for potatoes, but found few even of +these. + +Everything had been eaten up and the inhabitants had all fled- if +any remained, they were worse than beggars and nothing more could be +taken from them; even the soldiers, usually pitiless enough, instead +of taking anything from them, often gave them the last of their +rations. + +The Pavlograd regiment had had only two men wounded in action, but +had lost nearly half its men from hunger and sickness. In the +hospitals, death was so certain that soldiers suffering from fever, or +the swelling that came from bad food, preferred to remain on duty, and +hardly able to drag their legs went to the front rather than to the +hospitals. When spring came on, the soldiers found a plant just +showing out of the ground that looked like asparagus, which, for +some reason, they called "Mashka's sweet root." It was very bitter, +but they wandered about the fields seeking it and dug it out with +their sabers and ate it, though they were ordered not to do so, as +it was a noxious plant. That spring a new disease broke out broke +out among the soldiers, a swelling of the arms, legs, and face, +which the doctors attributed to eating this root. But in spite of +all this, the soldiers of Denisov's squadron fed chiefly on +"Mashka's sweet root," because it was the second week that the last of +the biscuits were being doled out at the rate of half a pound a man +and the last potatoes received had sprouted and frozen. + +The horses also had been fed for a fortnight on straw from the +thatched roofs and had become terribly thin, though still covered with +tufts of felty winter hair. + +Despite this destitution, the soldiers and officers went on living +just as usual. Despite their pale swollen faces and tattered uniforms, +the hussars formed line for roll call, kept things in order, groomed +their horses, polished their arms, brought in straw from the +thatched roofs in place of fodder, and sat down to dine round the +caldrons from which they rose up hungry, joking about their nasty food +and their hunger. As usual, in their spare time, they lit bonfires, +steamed themselves before them naked; smoked, picked out and baked +sprouting rotten potatoes, told and listened to stories of +Potemkin's and Suvorov's campaigns, or to legends of Alesha the Sly, +or the priest's laborer Mikolka. + +The officers, as usual, lived in twos and threes in the roofless, +half-ruined houses. The seniors tried to collect straw and potatoes +and, in general, food for the men. The younger ones occupied +themselves as before, some playing cards (there was plenty of money, +though there was no food), some with more innocent games, such as +quoits and skittles. The general trend of the campaign was rarely +spoken of, partly because nothing certain was known about it, partly +because there was a vague feeling that in the main it was going badly. + +Rostov lived, as before, with Denisov, and since their furlough they +had become more friendly than ever. Denisov never spoke of Rostov's +family, but by the tender friendship his commander showed him, +Rostov felt that the elder hussar's luckless love for Natasha played a +part in strengthening their friendship. Denisov evidently tried to +expose Rostov to danger as seldom as possible, and after an action +greeted his safe return with evident joy. On one of his foraging +expeditions, in a deserted and ruined village to which he had come +in search of provisions, Rostov found a family consisting of an old +Pole and his daughter with an infant in arms. They were half clad, +hungry, too weak to get away on foot and had no means of obtaining a +conveyance. Rostov brought them to his quarters, placed them in his +own lodging, and kept them for some weeks while the old man was +recovering. One of his comrades, talking of women, began chaffing +Rostov, saying that he was more wily than any of them and that it +would not be a bad thing if he introduced to them the pretty Polish +girl he had saved. Rostov took the joke as an insult, flared up, and +said such unpleasant things to the officer that it was all Denisov +could do to prevent a duel. When the officer had gone away, Denisov, +who did not himself know what Rostov's relations with the Polish +girl might be, began to upbraid him for his quickness of temper, and +Rostov replied: + +"Say what you like.... She is like a sister to me, and I can't +tell you how it offended me... because... well, for that reason...." + +Denisov patted him on the shoulder and began rapidly pacing the room +without looking at Rostov, as was his way at moments of deep feeling. + +"Ah, what a mad bweed you Wostovs are!" he muttered, and Rostov +noticed tears in his eyes. + +CHAPTER XVI + +In April the troops were enlivened by news of the Emperor's arrival, +but Rostov had no chance of being present at the review he held at +Bartenstein, as the Pavlograds were at the outposts far beyond that +place. + +They were bivouacking. Denisov and Rostov were living in an earth +hut, dug out for them by the soldiers and roofed with branches and +turf. The hut was made in the following manner, which had then come +into vogue. A trench was dug three and a half feet wide, four feet +eight inches deep, and eight feet long. At one end of the trench, +steps were cut out and these formed the entrance and vestibule. The +trench itself was the room, in which the lucky ones, such as the +squadron commander, had a board, lying on piles at the end opposite +the entrance, to serve as a table. On each side of the trench, the +earth was cut out to a breadth of about two and a half feet, and +this did duty for bedsteads and couches. The roof was so constructed +that one could stand up in the middle of the trench and could even sit +up on the beds if one drew close to the table. Denisov, who was living +luxuriously because the soldiers of his squadron liked him, had also a +board in the roof at the farther end, with a piece of (broken but +mended) glass in it for a window. When it was very cold, embers from +the soldiers' campfire were placed on a bent sheet of iron on the +steps in the "reception room"- as Denisov called that part of the hut- +and it was then so warm that the officers, of whom there were always +some with Denisov and Rostov, sat in their shirt sleeves. + +In April, Rostov was on orderly duty. One morning, between seven and +eight, returning after a sleepless night, he sent for embers, +changed his rain-soaked underclothes, said his prayers, drank tea, got +warm, then tidied up the things on the table and in his own corner, +and, his face glowing from exposure to the wind and with nothing on +but his shirt, lay down on his back, putting his arms under his +head. He was pleasantly considering the probability of being +promoted in a few days for his last reconnoitering expedition, and was +awaiting Denisov, who had gone out somewhere and with whom he wanted a +talk. + +Suddenly he heard Denisov shouting in a vibrating voice behind the +hut, evidently much excited. Rostov moved to the window to see whom he +was speaking to, and saw the quartermaster, Topcheenko. + +"I ordered you not to let them that Mashka woot stuff!" Denisov +was shouting. "And I saw with my own eyes how Lazarchuk bwought some +fwom the fields." + +"I have given the order again and again, your honor, but they +don't obey," answered the quartermaster. + +Rostov lay down again on his bed and thought complacently: "Let +him fuss and bustle now, my job's done and I'm lying down- capitally!" +He could hear that Lavrushka- that sly, bold orderly of Denisov's- was +talking, as well as the quartermaster. Lavrushka was saying +something about loaded wagons, biscuits, and oxen he had seen when +he had gone out for provisions. + +Then Denisov's voice was heard shouting farther and farther away. +"Saddle! Second platoon!" + +"Where are they off to now?" thought Rostov. + +Five minutes later, Denisov came into the hut, climbed with muddy +boots on the bed, lit his pipe, furiously scattered his things +about, took his leaded whip, buckled on his saber, and went out again. +In answer to Rostov's inquiry where he was going, he answered +vaguely and crossly that he had some business. + +"Let God and our gweat monarch judge me afterwards!" said Denisov +going out, and Rostov heard the hoofs of several horses splashing +through the mud. He did not even trouble to find out where Denisov had +gone. Having got warm in his corner, he fell asleep and did not +leave the hut till toward evening. Denisov had not yet returned. The +weather had cleared up, and near the next hut two officers and a cadet +were playing svayka, laughing as they threw their missiles which +buried themselves in the soft mud. Rostov joined them. In the middle +of the game, the officers saw some wagons approaching with fifteen +hussars on their skinny horses behind them. The wagons escorted by the +hussars drew up to the picket ropes and a crowd of hussars +surrounded them. + +"There now, Denisov has been worrying," said Rostov, "and here are +the provisions." + +"So they are!" said the officers. "Won't the soldiers be glad!" + +A little behind the hussars came Denisov, accompanied by two +infantry officers with whom he was talking. + +Rostov went to meet them. + +"I warn you, Captain," one of the officers, a short thin man, +evidently very angry, was saying. + +"Haven't I told you I won't give them up?" replied Denisov. + +"You will answer for it, Captain. It is mutiny- seizing the +transport of one's own army. Our men have had nothing to eat for two +days." + +"And mine have had nothing for two weeks," said Denisov. + +"It is robbery! You'll answer for it, sir!" said the infantry +officer, raising his voice. + +"Now, what are you pestewing me for?" cried Denisov, suddenly losing +his temper. "I shall answer for it and not you, and you'd better not +buzz about here till you get hurt. Be off! Go!" he shouted at the +officers. + +"Very well, then!" shouted the little officer, undaunted and not +riding away. "If you are determined to rob, I'll..." + +"Go to the devil! quick ma'ch, while you're safe and sound!" and +Denisov turned his horse on the officer. + +"Very well, very well!" muttered the officer, threateningly, and +turning his horse he trotted away, jolting in his saddle. + +"A dog astwide a fence! A weal dog astwide a fence!" shouted Denisov +after him (the most insulting expression a cavalryman can address to a +mounted infantryman) and riding up to Rostov, he burst out laughing. + +"I've taken twansports from the infantwy by force!" he said. +"After all, can't let our men starve." + +The wagons that had reached the hussars had been consigned to an +infantry regiment, but learning from Lavrushka that the transport +was unescorted, Denisov with his hussars had seized it by force. The +soldiers had biscuits dealt out to them freely, and they even shared +them with the other squadrons. + +The next day the regimental commander sent for Denisov, and +holding his fingers spread out before his eyes said: + +"This is how I look at this affair: I know nothing about it and +won't begin proceedings, but I advise you to ride over to the staff +and settle the business there in the commissariat department and if +possible sign a receipt for such and such stores received. If not, +as the demand was booked against an infantry regiment, there will be a +row and the affair may end badly." + +From the regimental commander's, Denisov rode straight to the +staff with a sincere desire to act on this advice. In the evening he +came back to his dugout in a state such as Rostov had never yet seen +him in. Denisov could not speak and gasped for breath. When Rostov +asked what was the matter, he only uttered some incoherent oaths and +threats in a hoarse, feeble voice. + +Alarmed at Denisov's condition, Rostov suggested that he should +undress, drink some water, and send for the doctor. + +"Twy me for wobbewy... oh! Some more water... Let them twy me, but +I'll always thwash scoundwels... and I'll tell the Empewo'... +Ice..." he muttered. + +The regimental doctor, when he came, said it was absolutely +necessary to bleed Denisov. A deep saucer of black blood was taken +from his hairy arm and only then was he able to relate what had +happened to him. + +"I get there," began Denisov. "'Now then, where's your chief's +quarters?' They were pointed out. 'Please to wait.' 'I've widden +twenty miles and have duties to attend to and no time to wait. +Announce me.' Vewy well, so out comes their head chief- also took it +into his head to lecture me: 'It's wobbewy!'- 'Wobbewy,' I say, 'is +not done by man who seizes pwovisions to feed his soldiers, but by him +who takes them to fill his own pockets!' 'Will you please be +silent?' 'Vewy good!' Then he says: 'Go and give a weceipt to the +commissioner, but your affair will be passed on to headquarters.' I go +to the commissioner. I enter, and at the table... who do you think? +No, but wait a bit!... Who is it that's starving us?" shouted Denisov, +hitting the table with the fist of his newly bled arm so violently +that the table nearly broke down and the tumblers on it jumped +about. "Telyanin! 'What? So it's you who's starving us to death! Is +it? Take this and this!' and I hit him so pat, stwaight on his +snout... 'Ah, what a... what...!' and I sta'ted fwashing him... +Well, I've had a bit of fun I can tell you!" cried Denisov, gleeful +and yet angry, his showing under his black mustache. "I'd have +killed him if they hadn't taken him away!" + +"But what are you shouting for? Calm yourself," said Rostov. "You've +set your arm bleeding afresh. Wait, we must tie it up again." + +Denisov was bandaged up again and put to bed. Next day he woke +calm and cheerful. + +But at noon the adjutant of the regiment came into Rostov's and +Denisov's dugout with a grave and serious face and regretfully +showed them a paper addressed to Major Denisov from the regimental +commander in which inquiries were made about yesterday's occurrence. +The adjutant told them that the affair was likely to take a very bad +turn: that a court-martial had been appointed, and that in view of the +severity with which marauding and insubordination were now regarded, +degradation to the ranks would be the best that could be hoped for. + +The case, as represented by the offended parties, was that, after +seizing the transports, Major Denisov, being drunk, went to the +chief quartermaster and without any provocation called him a thief, +threatened to strike him, and on being led out had rushed into the +office and given two officials a thrashing, and dislocated the arm +of one of them. + +In answer to Rostov's renewed questions, Denisov said, laughing, +that he thought he remembered that some other fellow had got mixed +up in it, but that it was all nonsense and rubbish, and he did not +in the least fear any kind of trial, and that if those scoundrels +dared attack him he would give them an answer that they would not +easily forget. + +Denisov spoke contemptuously of the whole matter, but Rostov knew +him too well not to detect that (while hiding it from others) at heart +he feared a court-martial and was worried over the affair, which was +evidently taking a bad turn. Every day, letters of inquiry and notices + +from the court arrived, and on the first of May, Denisov was ordered +to hand the squadron over to the next in seniority and appear before +the staff of his division to explain his violence at the +commissariat office. On the previous day Platov reconnoitered with two +Cossack regiments and two squadrons of hussars. Denisov, as was his +wont, rode out in front of the outposts, parading his courage. A +bullet fired by a French sharpshooter hit him in the fleshy part of +his leg. Perhaps at another time Denisov would not have left the +regiment for so slight a wound, but now he took advantage of it to +excuse himself from appearing at the staff and went into hospital. + +CHAPTER XVII + +In June the battle of Friedland was fought, in which the +Pavlograds did not take part, and after that an armistice was +proclaimed. Rostov, who felt his friend's absence very much, having no +news of him since he left and feeling very anxious about his wound and +the progress of his affairs, took advantage of the armistice to get +leave to visit Denisov in hospital. + +The hospital was in a small Prussian town that had been twice +devastated by Russian and French troops. Because it was summer, when +it is so beautiful out in the fields, the little town presented a +particularly dismal appearance with its broken roofs and fences, its +foul streets, tattered inhabitants, and the sick and drunken +soldiers wandering about. + +The hospital was in a brick building with some of the window +frames and panes broken and a courtyard surrounded by the remains of a +wooden fence that had been pulled to pieces. Several bandaged +soldiers, with pale swollen faces, were sitting or walking about in +the sunshine in the yard. + +Directly Rostov entered the door he was enveloped by a smell of +putrefaction and hospital air. On the stairs he met a Russian army +doctor smoking a cigar. The doctor was followed by a Russian +assistant. + +"I can't tear myself to pieces," the doctor was saying. "Come to +Makar Alexeevich in the evening. I shall be there." + +The assistant asked some further questions. + +"Oh, do the best you can! Isn't it all the same?" The doctor noticed +Rostov coming upstairs. + +"What do you want, sir?" said the doctor. "What do you want? The +bullets having spared you, do you want to try typhus? This is a +pesthouse, sir." + +"How so?" asked Rostov. + +"Typhus, sir. It's death to go in. Only we two, Makeev and I" (he +pointed to the assistant), "keep on here. Some five of us doctors have +died in this place.... When a new one comes he is done for in a week," +said the doctor with evident satisfaction. "Prussian doctors have been +invited here, but our allies don't like it at all." + +Rostov explained that he wanted to see Major Denisov of the hussars, +who was wounded. + +"I don't know. I can't tell you, sir. Only think! I am alone in +charge of three hospitals with more than four hundred patients! It's +well that the charitable Prussian ladies send us two pounds of +coffee and some lint each month or we should be lost!" he laughed. +"Four hundred, sir, and they're always sending me fresh ones. There +are four hundred? Eh?" he asked, turning to the assistant. + +The assistant looked fagged out. He was evidently vexed and +impatient for the talkative doctor to go. + +"Major Denisov," Rostov said again. "He was wounded at Molliten." + +"Dead, I fancy. Eh, Makeev?" queried the doctor, in a tone of +indifference. + +The assistant, however, did not confirm the doctor's words. + +"Is he tall and with reddish hair?" asked the doctor. + +Rostov described Denisov's appearance. + +"There was one like that," said the doctor, as if pleased. "That one +is dead, I fancy. However, I'll look up our list. We had a list. +Have you got it, Makeev?" + +"Makar Alexeevich has the list," answered the assistant. "But if +you'll step into the officers' wards you'll see for yourself," he +added, turning to Rostov. + +"Ah, you'd better not go, sir," said the doctor, "or you may have to +stay here yourself." + +But Rostov bowed himself away from the doctor and asked the +assistant to show him the way. + +"Only don't blame me!" the doctor shouted up after him. + +Rostov and the assistant went into the dark corridor. The smell +was so strong there that Rostov held his nose and had to pause and +collect his strength before he could go on. A door opened to the +right, and an emaciated sallow man on crutches, barefoot and in +underclothing, limped out and, leaning against the doorpost, looked +with glittering envious eyes at those who were passing. Glancing in at +the door, Rostov saw that the sick and wounded were lying on the floor +on straw and overcoats. + +"May I go in and look?" + +"What is there to see?" said the assistant. + +But, just because the assistant evidently did not want him to go in, +Rostov entered the soldiers' ward. The foul air, to which he had +already begun to get used in the corridor, was still stronger here. It +was a little different, more pungent, and one felt that this was where +it originated. + +In the long room, brightly lit up by the sun through the large +windows, the sick and wounded lay in two rows with their heads to +the walls, and leaving a passage in the middle. Most of them were +unconscious and paid no attention to the newcomers. Those who were +conscious raised themselves or lifted their thin yellow faces, and all +looked intently at Rostov with the same expression of hope, of relief, +reproach, and envy of another's health. Rostov went to the middle of +the room and looking through the open doors into the two adjoining +rooms saw the same thing there. He stood still, looking silently +around. He had not at all expected such a sight. Just before him, +almost across the middle of the passage on the bare floor, lay a +sick man, probably a Cossack to judge by the cut of his hair. The +man lay on his back, his huge arms and legs outstretched. His face was +purple, his eyes were rolled back so that only the whites were seen, +and on his bare legs and arms which were still red, the veins stood +out like cords. He was knocking the back of his head against the +floor, hoarsely uttering some word which he kept repeating. Rostov +listened and made out the word. It was "drink, drink, a drink!" Rostov +glanced round, looking for someone who would put this man back in +his place and bring him water. + +"Who looks after the sick here?" he asked the assistant. + +Just then a commissariat soldier, a hospital orderly, came in from +the next room, marching stiffly, and drew up in front of Rostov. + +"Good day, your honor!" he shouted, rolling his eyes at Rostov and +evidently mistaking him for one of the hospital authorities. + +"Get him to his place and give him some water," said Rostov, +pointing to the Cossack. + +"Yes, your honor," the soldier replied complacently, and rolling his +eyes more than ever he drew himself up still straighter, but did not +move. + +"No, it's impossible to do anything here," thought Rostov, +lowering his eyes, and he was going out, but became aware of an +intense look fixed on him on his right, and he turned. Close to the +corner, on an overcoat, sat an old, unshaven, gray-bearded soldier +as thin as a skeleton, with a stern sallow face and eyes intently +fixed on Rostov. The man's neighbor on one side whispered something to +him, pointing at Rostov, who noticed that the old man wanted to +speak to him. He drew nearer and saw that the old man had only one leg +bent under him, the other had been amputated above the knee. His +neighbor on the other side, who lay motionless some distance from +him with his head thrown back, was a young soldier with a snub nose. +His pale waxen face was still freckled and his eyes were rolled +back. Rostov looked at the young soldier and a cold chill ran down his +back. + +"Why, this one seems..." he began, turning to the assistant. + +"And how we've been begging, your honor," said the old soldier, +his jaw quivering. "He's been dead since morning. After all we're men, +not dogs." + +"I'll send someone at once. He shall be taken away- taken away at +once," said the assistant hurriedly. "Let us go, your honor." + +"Yes, yes, let us go," said Rostov hastily, and lowering his eyes +and shrinking, he tried to pass unnoticed between the rows of +reproachful envious eyes that were fixed upon him, and went out of the +room. + +CHAPTER XVIII + +Going along the corridor, the assistant led Rostov to the +officers' wards, consisting of three rooms, the doors of which stood +open. There were beds in these rooms and the sick and wounded officers +were lying or sitting on them. Some were walking about the rooms in +hospital dressing gowns. The first person Rostov met in the +officers' ward was a thin little man with one arm, who was walking +about the first room in a nightcap and hospital dressing gown, with +a pipe between his teeth. Rostov looked at him, trying to remember +where he had seen him before. + +"See where we've met again!" said the little man. "Tushin, Tushin, +don't you remember, who gave you a lift at Schon Grabern? And I've had +a bit cut off, you see..." he went on with a smile, pointing to the +empty sleeve of his dressing gown. "Looking for Vasili Dmitrich +Denisov? My neighbor," he added, when he heard who Rostov wanted. +"Here, here," and Tushin led him into the next room, from whence +came sounds of several laughing voices. + +"How can they laugh, or even live at all here?" thought Rostov, +still aware of that smell of decomposing flesh that had been so strong +in the soldiers' ward, and still seeming to see fixed on him those +envious looks which had followed him out from both sides, and the face +of that young soldier with eyes rolled back. + +Denisov lay asleep on his bed with his head under the blanket, +though it was nearly noon. + +"Ah, Wostov? How are you, how are you?" he called out, still in +the same voice as in the regiment, but Rostov noticed sadly that under +this habitual ease and animation some new, sinister, hidden feeling +showed itself in the expression of Denisov's face and the +intonations of his voice. + +His wound, though a slight one, had not yet healed even now, six +weeks after he had been hit. His face had the same swollen pallor as +the faces of the other hospital patients, but it was not this that +struck Rostov. What struck him was that Denisov did not seem glad to +see him, and smiled at him unnaturally. He did not ask about the +regiment, nor about the general state of affairs, and when Rostov +spoke of these matters did not listen. + +Rostov even noticed that Denisov did not like to be reminded of +the regiment, or in general of that other free life which was going on +outside the hospital. He seemed to try to forget that old life and was +only interested in the affair with the commissariat officers. On +Rostov's inquiry as to how the matter stood, he at once produced +from under his pillow a paper he had received from the commission +and the rough draft of his answer to it. He became animated when he +began reading his paper and specially drew Rostov's attention to the +stinging rejoinders he made to his enemies. His hospital companions, +who had gathered round Rostov- a fresh arrival from the world outside- +gradually began to disperse as soon as Denisov began reading his +answer. Rostov noticed by their faces that all those gentlemen had +already heard that story more than once and were tired of it. Only the +man who had the next bed, a stout Uhlan, continued to sit on his +bed, gloomily frowning and smoking a pipe, and little one-armed Tushin +still listened, shaking his head disapprovingly. In the middle of +the reading, the Uhlan interrupted Denisov. + +"But what I say is," he said, turning to Rostov, "it would be best +simply to petition the Emperor for pardon. They say great rewards will +now be distributed, and surely a pardon would be granted...." + +"Me petition the Empewo'!" exclaimed Denisov, in a voice to which he +tried hard to give the old energy and fire, but which sounded like +an expression of irritable impotence. "What for? If I were a wobber +I would ask mercy, but I'm being court-martialed for bwinging +wobbers to book. Let them twy me, I'm not afwaid of anyone. I've +served the Tsar and my countwy honowably and have not stolen! And am I +to be degwaded?... Listen, I'm w'iting to them stwaight. This is +what I say: 'If I had wobbed the Tweasuwy...'" + +"It's certainly well written," said Tushin, "but that's not the +point, Vasili Dmitrich," and he also turned to Rostov. "One has to +submit, and Vasili Dmitrich doesn't want to. You know the auditor told +you it was a bad business. + +"Well, let it be bad," said Denisov. + +"The auditor wrote out a petition for you," continued Tushin, "and +you ought to sign it and ask this gentleman to take it. No doubt he" +(indicating Rostov) "has connections on the staff. You won't find a +better opportunity." + +"Haven't I said I'm not going to gwovel?" Denisov interrupted him, +went on reading his paper. + +Rostov had not the courage to persuade Denisov, though he +instinctively felt that the way advised by Tushin and the other +officers was the safest, and though he would have been glad to be of +service to Denisov. He knew his stubborn will and straightforward +hasty temper. + +When the reading of Denisov's virulent reply, which took more than +an hour, was over, Rostov said nothing, and he spent the rest of the +day in a most dejected state of mind amid Denisov's hospital comrades, +who had round him, telling them what he knew and listening to their +stories. Denisov was moodily silent all the evening. + +Late in the evening, when Rostov was about to leave, he asked +Denisov whether he had no commission for him. + +"Yes, wait a bit," said Denisov, glancing round at the officers, and +taking his papers from under his pillow he went to the window, where +he had an inkpot, and sat down to write. + +"It seems it's no use knocking one's head against a wall!" he +said, coming from the window and giving Rostov a large envelope. In it +was the petition to the Emperor drawn up by the auditor, in which +Denisov, without alluding to the offenses of the commissariat +officials, simply asked for pardon. + +"Hand it in. It seems..." + +He did not finish, but gave a painfully unnatural smile. + +CHAPTER XIX + +Having returned to the regiment and told the commander the state +of Denisov's affairs, Rostov rode to Tilsit with the letter to the +Emperor. + +On the thirteenth of June the French and Russian Emperors arrived in +Tilsit. Boris Drubetskoy had asked the important personage on whom +he was in attendance, to include him in the suite appointed for the +stay at Tilsit. + +"I should like to see the great man," he said, alluding to Napoleon, +whom hitherto he, like everyone else, had always called Buonaparte. + +"You are speaking of Buonaparte?" asked the general, smiling. + +Boris looked at his general inquiringly and immediately saw that +he was being tested. + +"I am speaking, Prince, of the Emperor Napoleon," he replied. The +general patted him on the shoulder, with a smile. + +"You will go far," he said, and took him to Tilsit with him. + +Boris was among the few present at the Niemen on the day the two +Emperors met. He saw the raft, decorated with monograms, saw +Napoleon pass before the French Guards on the farther bank of the +river, saw the pensive face of the Emperor Alexander as he sat in +silence in a tavern on the bank of the Niemen awaiting Napoleon's +arrival, saw both Emperors get into boats, and saw how Napoleon- +reaching the raft first- stepped quickly forward to meet Alexander and +held out his hand to him, and how they both retired into the pavilion. +Since he had begun to move in the highest circles Boris had made it +his habit to watch attentively all that went on around him and to note +it down. At the time of the meeting at Tilsit he asked the names of +those who had come with Napoleon and about the uniforms they wore, and +listened attentively to words spoken by important personages. At the +moment the Emperors went into the pavilion he looked at his watch, and +did not forget to look at it again when Alexander came out. The +interview had lasted an hour and fifty-three minutes. He noted this +down that same evening, among other facts he felt to be of historic +importance. As the Emperor's suite was a very small one, it was a +matter of great importance, for a man who valued his success in the +service, to be at Tilsit on the occasion of this interview between the +two Emperors, and having succeeded in this, Boris felt that henceforth +his position was fully assured. He had not only become known, but +people had grown accustomed to him and accepted him. Twice he had +executed commissions to the Emperor himself, so that the latter knew +his face, and all those at court, far from cold-shouldering him as +at first when they considered him a newcomer, would now have been +surprised had he been absent. + +Boris lodged with another adjutant, the Polish Count Zhilinski. +Zhilinski, a Pole brought up in Paris, was rich, and passionately fond +of the French, and almost every day of the stay at Tilsit, French +officers of the Guard and from French headquarters were dining and +lunching with him and Boris. + +On the evening of the twenty-fourth of June, Count Zhilinski +arranged a supper for his French friends. The guest of honor was an +aide-de-camp of Napoleon's, there were also several French officers of +the Guard, and a page of Napoleon's, a young lad of an old +aristocratic French family. That same day, Rostov, profiting by the +darkness to avoid being recognized in civilian dress. came to Tilsit +and went to the lodging occupied by Boris and Zhilinski. + +Rostov, in common with the whole army from which he came, was far +from having experienced the change of feeling toward Napoleon and +the French- who from being foes had suddenly become friends- that +had taken place at headquarters and in Boris. In the army, Bonaparte +and the French were still regarded with mingled feelings of anger, +contempt, and fear. Only recently, talking with one of Platov's +Cossack officers, Rostov had argued that if Napoleon were taken +prisoner he would be treated not as a sovereign, but as a criminal. +Quite lately, happening to meet a wounded French colonel on the +road, Rostov had maintained with heat that peace was impossible +between a legitimate sovereign and the criminal Bonaparte. Rostov +was therefore unpleasantly struck by the presence of French officers +in Boris' lodging, dressed in uniforms he had been accustomed to see +from quite a different point of view from the outposts of the flank. +As soon as he noticed a French officer, who thrust his head out of the +door, that warlike feeling of hostility which he always experienced at +the sight of the enemy suddenly seized him. He stopped at the +threshold and asked in Russian whether Drubetskoy lived there. +Boris, hearing a strange voice in the anteroom, came out to meet +him. An expression of annoyance showed itself for a moment on his face +on first recognizing Rostov. + +"Ah, it's you? Very glad, very glad to see you," he said, however, +coming toward him with a smile. But Rostov had noticed his first +impulse. + +"I've come at a bad time I think. I should not have come, but I have +business," he said coldly. + +"No, I only wonder how you managed to get away from your regiment. +Dans un moment je suis a vous,"~^ he said, answering someone who called +him. + +^~ "In a minute I shall be at your disposal." + +"I see I'm intruding," Rostov repeated. + +The look of annoyance had already disappeared from Boris' face: +having evidently reflected and decided how to act, he very quietly +took both Rostov's hands and led him into the next room. His eyes, +looking serenely and steadily at Rostov, seemed to be veiled by +something, as if screened by blue spectacles of conventionality. So it +seemed to Rostov. + +"Oh, come now! As if you could come at a wrong time!" said Boris, +and he led him into the room where the supper table was laid and +introduced him to his guests, explaining that he was not a civilian, +but an hussar officer, and an old friend of his. + +"Count Zhilinski- le Comte N. N.- le Capitaine S. S.," said he, +naming his guests. Rostov looked frowningly at the Frenchmen, bowed +reluctantly, and remained silent. + +Zhilinski evidently did not receive this new Russian person very +willingly into his circle and did not speak to Rostov. Boris did not +appear to notice the constraint the newcomer produced and, with the +same pleasant composure and the same veiled look in his eyes with +which he had met Rostov, tried to enliven the conversation. One of the +Frenchmen, with the politeness characteristic of his countrymen, +addressed the obstinately taciturn Rostov, saying that the latter +had probably come to Tilsit to see the Emperor. + +"No, I came on business," replied Rostov, briefly. + +Rostov had been out of humor from the moment he noticed the look +of dissatisfaction on Boris' face, and as always happens to those in a +bad humor, it seemed to him that everyone regarded him with aversion +and that he was in everybody's way. He really was in their way, for he +alone took no part in the conversation which again became general. The +looks the visitors cast on him seemed to say: "And what is he +sitting here for?" He rose and went up to Boris. + +"Anyhow, I'm in your way," he said in a low tone. "Come and talk +over my business and I'll go away." + +"Oh, no, not at all," said Boris. "But if you are tired, come and +lie down in my room and have a rest." + +"Yes, really..." + +They went into the little room where Boris slept. Rostov, without +sitting down, began at once, irritably (as if Boris were to blame in +some way) telling him about Denisov's affair, asking him whether, +through his general, he could and would intercede with the Emperor +on Denisov's behalf and get Denisov's petition handed in. When he +and Boris were alone, Rostov felt for the first time that he could not +look Boris in the face without a sense of awkwardness. Boris, with one +leg crossed over the other and stroking his left hand with the slender +fingers of his right, listened to Rostov as a general listens to the +report of a subordinate, now looking aside and now gazing straight +into Rostov's eyes with the same veiled look. Each time this +happened Rostov felt uncomfortable and cast down his eyes. + +"I have heard of such cases and know that His Majesty is very severe +in such affairs. I think it would be best not to bring it before the +Emperor, but to apply to the commander of the corps.... But in +general, I think..." + +"So you don't want to do anything? Well then, say so!" Rostov almost +shouted, not looking Boris in the face. + +Boris smiled. + +"On the contrary, I will do what I can. Only I thought..." + +At that moment Zhilinski's voice was heard calling Boris. + +"Well then, go, go, go..." said Rostov, and refusing supper and +remaining alone in the little room, he walked up and down for a long +time, hearing the lighthearted French conversation from the next room. + +CHAPTER XX + +Rostov had come to Tilsit the day least suitable for a petition on +Denisov's behalf. He could not himself go to the general in attendance +as he was in mufti and had come to Tilsit without permission to do so, +and Boris, even had he wished to, could not have done so on the +following day. On that day, June 27, the preliminaries of peace were +signed. The Emperors exchanged decorations: Alexander received the +Cross of the Legion of Honor and Napoleon the Order of St. Andrew of +the First Degree, and a dinner had been arranged for the evening, +given by a battalion of the French Guards to the Preobrazhensk +battalion. The Emperors were to be present at that banquet. + +Rostov felt so ill at ease and uncomfortable with Boris that, when +the latter looked in after supper, he pretended to be asleep, and +early next morning went away, avoiding Boris. In his civilian +clothes and a round hat, he wandered about the town, staring at the +French and their uniforms and at the streets and houses where the +Russian and French Emperors were staying. In a square he saw tables +being set up and preparations made for the dinner; he saw the +Russian and French colors draped from side to side of the streets, +with hugh monograms A and N. In the windows of the houses also flags +and bunting were displayed. + +"Boris doesn't want to help me and I don't want to ask him. That's +settled," thought Nicholas. "All is over between us, but I won't leave +here without having done all I can for Denisov and certainly not +without getting his letter to the Emperor. The Emperor!... He is +here!" thought Rostov, who had unconsciously returned to the house +where Alexander lodged. + +Saddled horses were standing before the house and the suite were +assembling, evidently preparing for the Emperor to come out. + +"I may see him at any moment," thought Rostov. "If only I were to +hand the letter direct to him and tell him all... could they really +arrest me for my civilian clothes? Surely not! He would understand +on whose side justice lies. He understands everything, knows +everything. Who can be more just, more magnanimous than he? And even +if they did arrest me for being here, what would it matter?" thought +he, looking at an officer who was entering the house the Emperor +occupied. "After all, people do go in.... It's all nonsense! I'll go +in and hand the letter to the Emperor myself so much the worse for +Drubetskoy who drives me to it!" And suddenly with a determination +he himself did not expect, Rostov felt for the letter in his pocket +and went straight to the house. + +"No, I won't miss my opportunity now, as I did after Austerlitz," he +thought, expecting every moment to meet the monarch, and conscious +of the blood that rushed to his heart at the thought. "I will fall +at his feet and beseech him. He will lift me up, will listen, and will +even thank me. 'I am happy when I can do good, but to remedy injustice +is the greatest happiness,'" Rostov fancied the sovereign saying. +And passing people who looked after him with curiosity, he entered the +porch of the Emperor's house. + +A broad staircase led straight up from the entry, and to the right +he saw a closed door. Below, under the staircase, was a door leading +to the lower floor. + +"Whom do you want?" someone inquired. + +"To hand in a letter, a petition, to His Majesty," said Nicholas, +with a tremor in his voice. + +"A petition? This way, to the officer the officer on duty" (he was +shown the door leading downstairs), "only it won't be accepted." + +On hearing this indifferent voice, Rostov grew frightened at what he +was doing; the thought of meeting the Emperor at any moment was so +fascinating and consequently so alarming that he was ready to run +away, but the official who had questioned him opened the door, and +Rostov entered. + +A short stout man of about thirty, in white breeches and high +boots and a batiste shirt that he had evidently only just put on, +standing in that room, and his valet was buttoning on to the back of +his breeches a new pair of handsome silk-embroidered braces that, +for some reason, attracted Rostov's attention. This man was was +speaking to someone in the adjoining room. + +"A good figure and in her first bloom," he was saying, but on seeing +Rostov, he stopped short and frowned. + +"What is it? A petition?" + +"What is it?" asked the person in the other room. + +"Another petitioner," answered the man with the braces. + +"Tell him to come later. He'll be coming out directly, we must go." + +"Later... later! Tomorrow. It's too late..." + +Rostov turned and was about to go, but the man in the braces stopped +him. + +"Whom have you come from? Who are you?" + +"I come from Major Denisov," answered Rostov. + +"Are you an officer?" + +"Lieutenant Count Rostov." + +"What audacity! Hand it in through your commander. And go along with +you... go," and he continued to put on the uniform the valet handed +him. + +Rostov went back into the hall and noticed that in the porch there +were many officers and generals in full parade uniform, whom he had to +pass. + +Cursing his temerity, his heart sinking at the thought of finding +himself at any moment face to face with the Emperor and being put to +shame and arrested in his presence, fully alive now to the impropriety +of his conduct and repenting of it, Rostov, with downcast eyes, was +making his way out of the house through the brilliant suite when a +familiar voice called him and a hand detained him. + +"What are you doing here, sir, in civilian dress?" asked a deep +voice. + +It was a cavalry general who had obtained the Emperor's special +favor during this campaign, and who had formerly commanded the +division in which Rostov was serving. + +Rostov, in dismay, began justifying himself, but seeing the +kindly, jocular face of the general, he took him aside and in an +excited voice told him the whole affair, asking him to intercede for +Denisov, whom the general knew. Having heard Rostov to the end, the +general shook his head gravely. + +"I'm sorry, sorry for that fine fellow. Give me the letter." + +Hardly had Rostov handed him the letter and finished explaining +Denisov's case, when hasty steps and the jingling of spurs were +heard on the stairs, and the general, leaving him, went to the +porch. The gentlemen of the Emperor's suite ran down the stairs and +went to their horses. Hayne, the same groom who had been at +Austerlitz, led up the Emperor's horse, and the faint creak of a +footstep Rostov knew at once was heard on the stairs. Forgetting the +danger of being recognized, Rostov went close to the porch, together +with some inquisitive civilians, and again, after two years, saw those +features he adored: that same face and same look and step, and the +same union of majesty and mildness.... And the feeling of enthusiasm +and love for his sovereign rose again in Rostov's soul in all its +old force. In the uniform of the Preobrazhensk regiment- white +chamois-leather breeches and high boots- and wearing a star Rostov did +not know (it was that of the Legion d'honneur), the monarch came out +into the porch, putting on his gloves and carrying his hat under his +arm. He stopped and looked about him, brightening everything around by +his glance. He spoke a few words to some of the generals, and, +recognizing the former commander of Rostov's division, smiled and +beckoned to him. + +All the suite drew back and Rostov saw the general talking for +some time to the Emperor. + +The Emperor said a few words to him and took a step toward his +horse. Again the crowd of members of the suite and street gazers +(among whom was Rostov) moved nearer to the Emperor. Stopping beside +his horse, with his hand on the saddle, the Emperor turned to the +cavalry general and said in a loud voice, evidently wishing to be +heard by all: + +"I cannot do it, General. I cannot, because the law is stronger than +I," and he raised his foot to the stirrup. + +The general bowed his head respectfully, and the monarch mounted and +rode down the street at a gallop. Beside himself with enthusiasm, +Rostov ran after him with the crowd. + +CHAPTER XXI + +The Emperor rode to the square where, facing one another, a +battalion of the Preobrazhensk regiment stood on the right and a +battalion of the French Guards in their bearskin caps on the left. + +As the Tsar rode up to one flank of the battalions, which +presented arms, another group of horsemen galloped up to the +opposite flank, and at the head of them Rostov recognized Napoleon. It +could be no one else. He came at a gallop, wearing a small hat, a blue +uniform open over a white vest, and the St. Andrew ribbon over his +shoulder. He was riding a very fine thoroughbred gray Arab horse +with a crimson gold-embroidered saddlecloth. On approaching +Alexander he raised his hat, and as he did so, Rostov, with his +cavalryman's eye, could not help noticing that Napoleon did not sit +well or firmly in the saddle. The battalions shouted "Hurrah!" and +"Vive l'Empereur!" Napoleon said something to Alexander, and both +Emperors dismounted and took each other's hands. Napoleon's face +wore an unpleasant and artificial smile. Alexander was saying +something affable to him. + +In spite of the trampling of the French gendarmes' horses, which +were pushing back the crowd, Rostov kept his eyes on every movement of +Alexander and Bonaparte. It struck him as a surprise that Alexander +treated Bonaparte as an equal and that the latter was quite at ease +with the Tsar, as if such relations with an Emperor were an everyday +matter to him. + +Alexander and Napoleon, with the long train of their suites, +approached the right flank of the Preobrazhensk battalion and came +straight up to the crowd standing there. The crowd unexpectedly +found itself so close to the Emperors that Rostov, standing in the +front row, was afraid he might be recognized. + +"Sire, I ask your permission to present the Legion of Honor to the +bravest of your soldiers," said a sharp, precise voice, articulating +every letter. + +This was said by the undersized Napoleon, looking up straight into +Alexander's eyes. Alexander listened attentively to what was said to +him and, bending his head, smiled pleasantly. + +"To him who has borne himself most bravely in this last war," +added Napoleon, accentuating each syllable, as with a composure and +assurance exasperating to Rostov, he ran his eyes over the Russian +ranks drawn up before him, who all presented arms with their eyes +fixed on their Emperor. + +"Will Your Majesty allow me to consult the colonel?" said +Alexander and took a few hasty steps toward Prince Kozlovski, the +commander of the battalion. + +Bonaparte meanwhile began taking the glove off his small white hand, +tore it in doing so, and threw it away. An aide-de-camp behind him +rushed forward and picked it up. + +"To whom shall it be given?" the Emperor Alexander asked +Koslovski, in Russian in a low voice. + +"To whomever Your Majesty commands." + +The Emperor knit his brows with dissatisfaction and, glancing +back, remarked: + +"But we must give him an answer." + +Kozlovski scanned the ranks resolutely and included Rostov in his +scrutiny. + +"Can it be me?" thought Rostov. + +"Lazarev!" the colonel called, with a frown, and Lazarev, the +first soldier in the rank, stepped briskly forward. + +"Where are you off to? Stop here!" voices whispered to Lazarev who +did not know where to go. Lazarev stopped, casting a sidelong look +at his colonel in alarm. His face twitched, as often happens to +soldiers called before the ranks. + +Napoleon slightly turned his head, and put his plump little hand out +behind him as if to take something. The members of his suite, guessing +at once what he wanted, moved about and whispered as they passed +something from one to another, and a page- the same one Rostov had +seen the previous evening at Boris'- ran forward and, bowing +respectfully over the outstretched hand and not keeping it waiting a +moment, laid in it an Order on a red ribbon. Napoleon, without +looking, pressed two fingers together and the badge was between +them. Then he approached Lazarev (who rolled his eyes and persistently +gazed at his own monarch), looked round at the Emperor Alexander to +imply that what he was now doing was done for the sake of his ally, +and the small white hand holding the Order touched one of Lazarev's +buttons. It was as if Napoleon knew that it was only necessary for his +hand to deign to touch that soldier's breast for the soldier to be +forever happy, rewarded, and distinguished from everyone else in the +world. Napoleon merely laid the cross on Lazarev's breast and, +dropping his hand, turned toward Alexander as though sure that the +cross would adhere there. And it really did. + +Officious hands, Russian and French, immediately seized the cross +and fastened it to the uniform. Lazarev glanced morosely at the little +man with white hands who was doing something to him and, still +standing motionless presenting arms, looked again straight into +Alexander's eyes, as if asking whether he should stand there, or go +away, or do something else. But receiving no orders, he remained for +some time in that rigid position. + +The Emperors remounted and rode away. The Preobrazhensk battalion, +breaking rank, mingled with the French Guards and sat down at the +tables prepared for them. + +Lazarev sat in the place of honor. Russian and French officers +embraced him, congratulated him, and pressed his hands. Crowds of +officers and civilians drew near merely to see him. A rumble of +Russian and French voices and laughter filled the air round the tables +in the square. Two officers with flushed faces, looking cheerful and +happy, passed by Rostov. + +"What d'you think of the treat? All on silver plate," one of them +was saying. "Have you seen Lazarev?" + +"I have." + +"Tomorrow, I hear, the Preobrazhenskis will give them a dinner." + +"Yes, but what luck for Lazarev! Twelve hundred francs' pension +for life." + +"Here's a cap, lads!" shouted a Preobrazhensk soldier, donning a +shaggy French cap. + +"It's a fine thing! First-rate!" + +"Have you heard the password?" asked one Guards' officer of another. +"The day before yesterday it was 'Napoleon, France, bravoure'; +yesterday, 'Alexandre, Russie, grandeur.' One day our Emperor gives it +and next day Napoleon. Tomorrow our Emperor will send a St. George's +Cross to the bravest of the French Guards. It has to be done. He +must respond in kind." + +Boris, too, with his friend Zhilinski, came to see the Preobrazhensk +banquet. On his way back, he noticed Rostov standing by the corner +of a house. + +"Rostov! How d'you do? We missed one another," he said, and could +not refrain from asking what was the matter, so strangely dismal and +troubled was Rostov's face. + +"Nothing, nothing," replied Rostov. + +"You'll call round?" + +"Yes, I will." + +Rostov stood at that corner for a long time, watching the feast from +a distance. a distance. In his mind, a painful process was going on +which he could not bring to a conclusion. Terrible doubts rose in +his soul. Now he remembered Denisov with his changed expression, his +submission, and the whole hospital, with arms and legs torn off and +its dirt and disease. So vividly did he recall that hospital stench of +dead flesh that he looked round to see where the smell came from. Next +he thought of that self-satisfied Bonaparte, with his small white +hand, who was now an Emperor, liked and respected by Alexander. Then +why those severed arms and legs and those dead men?... Then again he +thought of Lazarev rewarded and Denisov punished and unpardoned. He +caught himself harboring such strange thoughts that he was frightened. + +The smell of the food the Preobrazhenskis were eating and a sense of +hunger recalled him from these reflections; he had to get something to +eat before going away. He went to a hotel he had noticed that morning. +There he found so many people, among them officers who, like +himself, had come in civilian clothes, that he had difficulty in +getting a dinner. Two officers of his own division joined him. The +conversation naturally turned on the peace. The officers, his +comrades, like most of the army, were dissatisfied with the peace +concluded after the battle of Friedland. They said that had we held +out a little longer Napoleon would have been done for, as his troops +had neither provisions nor ammunition. Nicholas ate and drank (chiefly +the latter) in silence. He finished a couple of bottles of wine by +himself. The process in his mind went on tormenting him without +reaching a conclusion. He feared to give way to his thoughts, yet +could not get rid of them. Suddenly, on one of the officers' saying +that it was humiliating to look at the French, Rostov began shouting +with uncalled-for wrath, and therefore much to the surprise of the +officers: + +"How can you judge what's best?" he cried, the blood suddenly +rushing to his face. "How can you judge the Emperor's actions? What +right have we to argue? We cannot comprehend either the Emperor's or +his actions!" + +"But I never said a word about the Emperor!" said the officer, +justifying himself, and unable to understand Rostov's outburst, except +on the supposition that he was drunk. + +But Rostov did not listen to him. + +"We are not diplomatic officials, we are soldiers and nothing more," +he went on. "If we are ordered to die, we must die. If we're punished, +it means that we have deserved it, it's not for us to judge. If the +Emperor pleases to recognize Bonaparte as Emperor and to conclude an +alliance with him, it means that that is the right thing to do. If +once we begin judging and arguing about everything, nothing sacred +will be left! That way we shall be saying there is no God- nothing!" +shouted Nicholas, banging the table- very little to the point as it +seemed to his listeners, but quite relevantly to the course of his own +thoughts. + +"Our business is to do our duty, to fight and not to think! That's +all...." said he. + +"And to drink," said one of the officers, not wishing to quarrel. + +"Yes, and to drink," assented Nicholas. "Hullo there! Another +bottle!" he shouted. + +In 1808 the Emperor Alexander went to Erfurt for a fresh interview +with the Emperor Napoleon, and in the upper circles of Petersburg +there was much talk of the grandeur of this important meeting. + +CHAPTER XXII + +In 1809 the intimacy between "the world's two arbiters," as Napoleon +and Alexander were called, was such that when Napoleon declared war on +Austria a Russian corps crossed the frontier to co-operate with our +old enemy Bonaparte against our old ally the Emperor of Austria, and +in court circles the possibility of marriage between Napoleon and +one of Alexander's sisters was spoken of. But besides considerations +of foreign policy, the attention of Russian society was at that time +keenly directed on the internal changes that were being undertaken +in all the departments of government. + +Life meanwhile- real life, with its essential interests of health +and sickness, toil and rest, and its intellectual interests in +thought, science, poetry, music, love, friendship, hatred, and +passions- went on as usual, independently of and apart from +political friendship or enmity with Napoleon Bonaparte and from all +the schemes of reconstruction. + +BOOK SIX: 1808 - 10 + +CHAPTER I + +Prince Andrew had spent two years continuously in the country. + +All the plans Pierre had attempted on his estates- and constantly +changing from one thing to another had never accomplished- were +carried out by Prince Andrew without display and without perceptible +difficulty. + +He had in the highest degree a practical tenacity which Pierre +lacked, and without fuss or strain on his part this set things going. + +On one of his estates the three hundred serfs were liberated and +became free agricultural laborers- this being one of the first +examples of the kind in Russia. On other estates the serfs' compulsory +labor was commuted for a quitrent. A trained midwife was engaged for +Bogucharovo at his expense, and a priest was paid to teach reading and +writing to the children of the peasants and household serfs. + +Prince Andrew spent half his time at Bald Hills with his father +and his son, who was still in the care of nurses. The other half he +spent in "Bogucharovo Cloister," as his father called Prince +Andrew's estate. Despite the indifference to the affairs of the +world he had expressed to Pierre, he diligently followed all that went +on, received many books, and to his surprise noticed that when he or +his father had visitors from Petersburg, the very vortex of life, +these people lagged behind himself- who never left the country- in +knowledge of what was happening in home and foreign affairs. + +Besides being occupied with his estates and reading a great +variety of books, Prince Andrew was at this time busy with a +critical of survey our last two unfortunate campaigns, and with +drawing up a proposal for a reform of the army rules and regulations. + +In the spring of 1809 he went to visit the Ryazan estates which +had been inherited by his son, whose guardian he was. + +Warmed by the spring sunshine he sat in the caleche looking at the +new grass, the first leaves on the birches, and the first puffs of +white spring clouds floating across the clear blue sky. He was not +thinking of anything, but looked absent-mindedly and cheerfully from +side to side. + +They crossed the ferry where he had talked with Pierre the year +before. They went through the muddy village, past threshing floors and +green fields of winter rye, downhill where snow still lodged near +the bridge, uphill where the clay had been liquefied by the rain, past +strips of stubble land and bushes touched with green here and there, +and into a birch forest growing on both sides of the road. In the +forest it was almost hot, no wind could be felt. The birches with +their sticky green leaves were motionless, and lilac-colored flowers +and the first blades of green grass were pushing up and lifting last +year's leaves. The coarse evergreen color of the small fir trees +scattered here and there among the birches was an unpleasant +reminder of winter. On entering the forest the horses began to snort +and sweated visibly. + +Peter the footman made some remark to the coachman; the latter +assented. But apparently the coachman's sympathy was not enough for +Peter, and he turned on the box toward his master. + +"How pleasant it is, your excellency!" he said with a respectful +smile. + +"What?" + +"It's pleasant, your excellency!" + +"What is he talking about?" thought Prince Andrew. "Oh, the +spring, I suppose," he thought as he turned round. "Yes, really +everything is green already.... How early! The birches and cherry +and alders too are coming out.... But the oaks show no sign yet. Ah, +here is one oak!" + +At the edge of the road stood an oak. Probably ten times the age of +the birches that formed the forest, it was ten times as thick and +twice as tall as they. It was an enormous tree, its girth twice as +great as a man could embrace, and evidently long ago some of its +branches had been broken off and its bark scarred. With its huge +ungainly limbs sprawling unsymmetrically, and its gnarled hands and +fingers, it stood an aged, stern, and scornful monster among the +smiling birch trees. Only the dead-looking evergreen firs dotted about +in the forest, and this oak, refused to yield to the charm of spring +or notice either the spring or the sunshine. + +"Spring, love, happiness!" this oak seemed to say. "Are you not +weary of that stupid, meaningless, constantly repeated fraud? Always +the same and always a fraud? There is no spring, no sun, no happiness! +Look at those cramped dead firs, ever the same, and at me too, +sticking out my broken and barked fingers just where they have +grown, whether from my back or my sides: as they have grown so I +stand, and I do not believe in your hopes and your lies." + +As he passed through the forest Prince Andrew turned several times +to look at that oak, as if expecting something from it. Under the oak, +too, were flowers and grass, but it stood among them scowling, +rigid, misshapen, and grim as ever. + +"Yes, the oak is right, a thousand times right," thought Prince +Andrew. "Let others- the young- yield afresh to that fraud, but we +know life, our life is finished!" + +A whole sequence of new thoughts, hopeless but mournfully +pleasant, rose in his soul in connection with that tree. During this +journey he, as it were, considered his life afresh and arrived at +his old conclusion, restful in its hopelessness: that it was not for +him to begin anything anew- but that he must live out his life, +content to do no harm, and not disturbing himself or desiring +anything. + +CHAPTER II + +Prince Andrew had to see the Marshal of the Nobility for the +district in connection with the affairs of the Ryazan estate of +which he was trustee. This Marshal was Count Ilya Rostov, and in the +middle of May Prince Andrew went to visit him. + +It was now hot spring weather. The whole forest was already +clothed in green. It was dusty and so hot that on passing near water +one longed to bathe. + +Prince Andrew, depressed and preoccupied with the business about +which he had to speak to the Marshal, was driving up the avenue in the +grounds of the Rostovs' house at Otradnoe. He heard merry girlish +cries behind some trees on the right and saw group of girls running to +cross the path of his caleche. Ahead of the rest and nearer to him ran +a dark-haired, remarkably slim, pretty girl in a yellow chintz +dress, with a white handkerchief on her head from under which loose +locks of hair escaped. The girl was shouting something but, seeing +that he was a stranger, ran back laughing without looking at him. + +Suddenly, he did not know why, he felt a pang. The day was so +beautiful, the sun so bright, everything around so gay, but that +slim pretty girl did not know, or wish to know, of his existence and +was contented and cheerful in her own separate- probably foolish- +but bright and happy life. "What is she so glad about? What is she +thinking of? Not of the military regulations or of the arrangement +of the Ryazan serfs' quitrents. Of what is she thinking? Why is she so +happy?" Prince Andrew asked himself with instinctive curiosity. + +In 1809 Count Ilya Rostov was living at Otradnoe just as he had done +in former years, that is, entertaining almost the whole province +with hunts, theatricals, dinners, and music. He was glad to see Prince +Andrew, as he was to see any new visitor, and insisted on his +staying the night. + +During the dull day, in the course of which he was entertained by +his elderly hosts and by the more important of the visitors (the old +count's house was crowded on account of an approaching name day), +Prince Andrew repeatedly glanced at Natasha, gay and laughing among +the younger members of the company, and asked himself each time, "What +is she thinking about? Why is she so glad?" + +That night, alone in new surroundings, he was long unable to +sleep. He read awhile and then put out his candle, but relit it. It +was hot in the room, the inside shutters of which were closed. He +was cross with the stupid old man (as he called Rostov), who had +made him stay by assuring him that some necessary documents had not +yet arrived from town, and he was vexed with himself for having +stayed. + +He got up and went to the window to open it. As soon as he opened +the shutters the moonlight, as if it had long been watching for +this, burst into the room. He opened the casement. The night was +fresh, bright, and very still. Just before the window was a row of +pollard trees, looking black on one side and with a silvery light on +the other. Beneath the trees grewsome kind of lush, wet, bushy +vegetation with silver-lit leaves and stems here and there. Farther +back beyond the dark trees a roof glittered with dew, to the right was +a leafy tree with brilliantly white trunk and branches, and above it +shone the moon, nearly at its full, in a pale, almost starless, spring +sky. Prince Andrew leaned his elbows on the window ledge and his +eyes rested on that sky. + +His room was on the first floor. Those in the rooms above were +also awake. He heard female voices overhead. + +"Just once more," said a girlish voice above him which Prince Andrew +recognized at once. + +"But when are you coming to bed?" replied another voice. + +"I won't, I can't sleep, what's the use? Come now for the last +time." + +Two girlish voices sang a musical passage- the end of some song. + +"Oh, how lovely! Now go to sleep, and there's an end of it." + +"You go to sleep, but I can't," said the first voice, coming +nearer to the window. She was evidently leaning right out, for the +rustle of her dress and even her breathing could be heard. +Everything was stone-still, like the moon and its light and the +shadows. Prince Andrew, too, dared not stir, for fear of betraying his +unintentional presence. + +"Sonya! Sonya!" he again heard the first speaker. "Oh, how can you +sleep? Only look how glorious it is! Ah, how glorious! Do wake up, +Sonya!" she said almost with tears in her voice. "There never, never +was such a lovely night before!" + +Sonya made some reluctant reply. + +"Do just come and see what a moon!... Oh, how lovely! Come +here.... Darling, sweetheart, come here! There, you see? I feel like +sitting down on my heels, putting my arms round my knees like this, +straining tight, as tight as possible, and flying away! Like this...." + +"Take care, you'll fall out." + +He heard the sound of a scuffle and Sonya's disapproving voice: +"It's past one o'clock." + +"Oh, you only spoil things for me. All right, go, go!" + +Again all was silent, but Prince Andrew knew she was still sitting +there. From time to time he heard a soft rustle and at times a sigh. + +"O God, O God! What does it mean?" she suddenly exclaimed. "To bed +then, if it must be!" and she slammed the casement. + +"For her I might as well not exist!" thought Prince Andrew while +he listened to her voice, for some reason expecting yet fearing that +she might say something about him. "There she is again! As if it +were on purpose," thought he. + +In his soul there suddenly arose such an unexpected turmoil of +youthful thoughts and hopes, contrary to the whole tenor of his +life, that unable to explain his condition to himself he lay down +and fell asleep at once. + +CHAPTER III + +Next morning, having taken leave of no one but the count, and not +waiting for the ladies to appear, Prince Andrew set off for home. + +It was already the beginning of June when on his return journey he +drove into the birch forest where the gnarled old oak had made so +strange and memorable an impression on him. In the forest the +harness bells sounded yet more muffled than they had done six weeks +before, for now all was thick, shady, and dense, and the young firs +dotted about in the forest did not jar on the general beauty but, +lending themselves to the mood around, were delicately green with +fluffy young shoots. + +The whole day had been hot. Somewhere a storm was gathering, but +only a small cloud had scattered some raindrops lightly, sprinkling +the road and the sappy leaves. The left side of the forest was dark in +the shade, the right side glittered in the sunlight, wet and shiny and +scarcely swayed by the breeze. Everything was in blossom, the +nightingales trilled, and their voices reverberated now near, now +far away. + +"Yes, here in this forest was that oak with which I agreed," thought +Prince Andrew. "But where is it?" he again wondered, gazing at the +left side of the road, and without recognizing it he looked with +admiration at the very oak he sought. The old oak, quite transfigured, +spreading out a canopy of sappy dark-green foliage, stood rapt and +slightly trembling in the rays of the evening sun. Neither gnarled +fingers nor old scars nor old doubts and sorrows were any of them in +evidence now. Through the hard century-old bark, even where there were +no twigs, leaves had sprouted such as one could hardly believe the old +veteran could have produced. + +"Yes, it is the same oak," thought Prince Andrew, and all at once he +was seized by an unreasoning springtime feeling of joy and renewal. +All the best moments of his life suddenly rose to his memory. +Austerlitz with the lofty heavens, his wife's dead reproachful face, +Pierre at the ferry, that girl thrilled by the beauty of the night, +and that night itself and the moon, and.... all this rushed suddenly +to his mind. + +"No, life is not over at thirty-one!" Prince Andrew suddenly decided +finally and decisively. "It is not enough for me to know what I have +in me- everyone must know it: Pierre, and that young girl who wanted +to fly away into the sky, everyone must know me, so that my life may +not be lived for myself alone while others live so apart from it, +but so that it may be reflected in them all, and they and I may live +in harmony!" + +On reaching home Prince Andrew decided to go to Petersburg that +autumn and found all sorts of reasons for this decision. A whole +serics of sensible and logical considerations showing it to be +essential for him to go to Petersburg, and even to re-enter the +service, kept springing up in his mind. He could not now understand +how he could ever even have doubted the necessity of taking an +active share in life, just as a month before he had not understood how +the idea of leaving the quiet country could ever enter his head. It +now seemed clear to him that all his experience of life must be +senselessly wasted unless he applied it to some kind of work and again +played an active part in life. He did not even remember how +formerly, on the strength of similar wretched logical arguments, it +had seemed obvious that he would be degrading himself if he now, after +the lessons he had had in life, allowed himself to believe in the +possibility of being useful and in the possibility of happiness or +love. Now reason suggested quite the opposite. After that journey to +Ryazan he found the country dull; his former pursuits no longer +interested him, and often when sitting alone in his study he got up, +went to the mirror, and gazed a long time at his own face. Then he +would turn away to the portrait of his dead Lise, who with hair curled +a la grecque looked tenderly and gaily at him out of the gilt frame. +She did not now say those former terrible words to him, but looked +simply, merrily, and inquisitively at him. And Prince Andrew, crossing +his arms behind him, long paced the room, now frowning, now smiling, +as he reflected on those irrational, inexpressible thoughts, secret as +a crime, which altered his whole life and were connected with +Pierre, with fame, with the girl at the window, the oak, and woman's +beauty and love. And if anyone came into his room at such moments he +was particularly cold, stern, and above all unpleasantly logical. + +"My dear," Princess Mary entering at such a moment would say, +"little Nicholas can't go out today, it's very cold." + +"If it were hot," Prince Andrew would reply at such times very dryly +to his sister, "he could go out in his smock, but as it is cold he +must wear warm clothes, which were designed for that purpose. That +is what follows from the fact that it is cold; and not that a child +who needs fresh air should remain at home," he would add with +extreme logic, as if punishing someone for those secret illogical +emotions that stirred within him. + +At such moments Princess Mary would think how intellectual work +dries men up. + +CHAPTER IV + +Prince Andrew arrived in Petersburg in August, 1809. It was the time +when the youthful Speranski was at the zenith of his fame and his +reforms were being pushed forward with the greatest energy. That +same August the Emperor was thrown from his caleche, injured his +leg, and remained three weeks at Peterhof, receiving Speranski every +day and no one else. At that time the two famous decrees were being +prepared that so agitated society- abolishing court ranks and +introducing examinations to qualify for the grades of Collegiate +Assessor and State Councilor- and not merely these but a whole state +constitution, intended to change the existing order of government in +Russia: legal, administrative, and financial, from the Council of +State down to the district tribunals. Now those vague liberal dreams +with which the Emperor Alexander had ascended the throne, and which he +had tried to put into effect with the aid of his associates, +Czartoryski, Novosiltsev, Kochubey, and Strogonov- whom he himself +in jest had called his Comite de salut public- were taking shape and +being realized. + +Now all these men were replaced by Speranski on the civil side, +and Arakcheev on the military. Soon after his arrival Prince Andrew, +as a gentleman of the chamber, presented himself at court and at a +levee. The Emperor, though he met him twice, did not favor him with +a single word. It had always seemed to Prince Andrew before that he +was antipathetic to the Emperor and that the latter disliked his +face and personality generally, and in the cold, repellent glance +the Emperor gave him, he now found further confirmation of this +surmise. The courtiers explained the Emperor's neglect of him by His +Majesty's displeasure at Bolkonski's not having served since 1805. + +"I know myself that one cannot help one's sympathies and +antipathies," thought Prince Andrew, "so it will not do to present +my proposal for the reform of the army regulations to the Emperor +personally, but the project will speak for itself." + +He mentioned what he had written to an old field marshal, a friend +of his father's. The field marshal made an appointment to see him, +received him graciously, and promised to inform the Emperor. A few +days later Prince Andrew received notice that he was to go to see +the Minister of War, Count Arakcheev. + +On the appointed day Prince Andrew entered Count Arakcheev's waiting +room at nine in the morning. + +He did not know Arakcheev personally, had never seen him, and all he +had heard of him inspired him with but little respect for the man. + +"He is Minister of War, a man trusted by the Emperor, and I need not +concern myself about his personal qualities: he has been +commissioned to consider my project, so he alone can get it +adopted," thought Prince Andrew as he waited among a number of +important and unimportant people in Count Arakcheev's waiting room. + +During his service, chiefly as an adjutant, Prince Andrew had seen +the anterooms of many important men, and the different types of such +rooms were well known to him. Count Arakcheev's anteroom had quite a +special character. The faces of the unimportant people awaiting +their turn for an audience showed embarrassment and servility; the +faces of those of higher rank expressed a common feeling of +awkwardness, covered by a mask of unconcern and ridicule of +themselves, their situation, and the person for whom they were +waiting. Some walked thoughtfully up and down, others whispered and +laughed. Prince Andrew heard the nickname "Sila Andreevich" and the +words, "Uncle will give it to us hot," in reference to Count +Arakcheev. One general (an important personage), evidently feeling +offended at having to wait so long, sat crossing and uncrossing his +legs and smiling contemptuously to himself. + +But the moment the door opened one feeling alone appeared on all +faces- that of fear. Prince Andrew for the second time asked the +adjutant on duty to take in his name, but received an ironical look +and was told that his turn would come in due course. After some others +had been shown in and out of the minister's room by the adjutant on +duty, an officer who struck Prince Andrew by his humiliated and +frightened air was admitted at that terrible door. This officer's +audience lasted a long time. Then suddenly the grating sound of a +harsh voice was heard from the other side of the door, and the +officer- with pale face and trembling lips- came out and passed +through the waiting room, clutching his head. + +After this Prince Andrew was conducted to the door and the officer +on duty said in a whisper, "To the right, at the window." + +Prince Andrew entered a plain tidy room and saw at the table a man +of forty with a long waist, a long closely cropped head, deep +wrinkles, scowling brows above dull greenish-hazel eyes and an +overhanging red nose. Arakcheev turned his head toward him without +looking at him. + +"What is your petition?" asked Arakcheev. + +"I am not petitioning, your excellency," returned Prince Andrew +quietly. + +Arakcheev's eyes turned toward him. + +"Sit down," said he. "Prince Bolkonski?" + +"I am not petitioning about anything. His Majesty the Emperor has +deigned to send your excellency a project submitted by me..." + +"You see, my dear sir, I have read your project," interrupted +Arakcheev, uttering only the first words amiably and then- again +without looking at Prince Andrew- relapsing gradually into a tone of +grumbling contempt. "You are proposing new military laws? There are +many laws but no one to carry out the old ones. Nowadays everybody +designs laws, it is easier writing than doing." + +"I came at His Majesty the Emperor's wish to learn from your +excellency how you propose to deal with the memorandum I have +presented," said Prince Andrew politely. + +"I have endorsed a resolution on your memorandum and sent it to +the committee. I do not approve of it," said Arakcheev, rising and +taking a paper from his writing table. "Here!" and he handed it to +Prince Andrew. + +Across the paper was scrawled in pencil, without capital letters, +misspelled, and without punctuation: "Unsoundly constructed because +resembles an imitation of the French military code and from the +Articles of War needlessly deviating." + +"To what committee has the memorandum been referred?" inquired +Prince Andrew. + +"To the Committee on Army Regulations, and I have recommended that +your honor should be appointed a member, but without a salary." + +Prince Andrew smiled. + +"I don't want one." + +"A member without salary," repeated Arakcheev. "I have the +honor... Eh! Call the next one! Who else is there?" he shouted, bowing +to Prince Andrew. + +CHAPTER V + +While waiting for the announcement of his appointment to the +committee Prince Andrew looked up his former acquaintances, +particularly those he knew to be in power and whose aid he might need. +In Petersburg he now experienced the same feeling he had had on the +eve of a battle, when troubled by anxious curiosity and irresistibly +attracted to the ruling circles where the future, on which the fate of +millions depended, was being shaped. From the irritation of the +older men, the curiosity of the uninitiated. the reserve of the +initiated, the hurry and preoccupation of everyone, and the +innumerable committees and commissions of whose existence he learned +every day, he felt that now, in 1809, here in Petersburg a vast +civil conflict was in preparation, the commander in chief of which was +a mysterious person he did not know, but who was supposed to be a +man of genius- Speranski. And this movement of reconstruction of which +Prince Andrew had a vague idea, and Speranski its chief promoter, +began to interest him so keenly that the question of the army +regulations quickly receded to a secondary place in his consciousness. + +Prince Andrew was most favorably placed to secure good reception +in the highest and most diverse Petersburg circles of the day. The +reforming party cordially welcomed and courted him, the first place +because he was reputed to be clever and very well read, and secondly +because by liberating his serfs he had obtained the reputation of +being a liberal. The party of the old and dissatisfied, who censured +the innovations, turned to him expecting his sympathy in their +disapproval of the reforms, simply because he was the son of his +father. The feminine society world welcomed him gladly, because he was +rich, distinguished, a good match, and almost a newcomer, with a +halo of romance on account of his supposed death and the tragic loss +of his wife. Besides this the general opinion of all who had known him +previously was that he had greatly improved during these last five +years, having softened and grown more manly, lost his former +affectation, pride, and contemptuous irony, and acquired the +serenity that comes with years. People talked about him, were +interested in him, and wanted to meet him. + +The day after his interview with Count Arakcheev, Prince Andrew +spent the evening at Count Kochubey's. He told the count of his +interview with Sila Andreevich (Kochubey spoke of Arakcheev by that +nickname with the same vague irony Prince Andrew had noticed in the +Minister of War's anteroom). + +"Mon cher, even in this case you can't do without Michael +Mikhaylovich Speranski. He manages everything. I'll speak to him. He +has promised to come this evening." + +"What has Speranski to do with the army regulations?" asked Prince +Andrew. + +Kochubey shook his head smilingly, as if surprised at Bolkonski's +simplicity. + +"We were talking to him about you a few days ago," Kochubey +continued, "and about your freed plowmen." + +"Oh, is it you, Prince, who have freed your serfs?" said an old +man of Catherine's day, turning contemptuously toward Bolkonski. + +"It was a small estate that brought in no profit," replied Prince +Andrew, trying to extenuate his action so as not to irritate the old +man uselessly. + +"Afraid of being late..." said the old man, looking at Kochubey. + +"There's one thing I don't understand," he continued. "Who will plow +the land if they are set free? It is easy to write laws, but difficult +to rule.... Just the same as now- I ask you, Count- who will be +heads of the departments when everybody has to pass examinations?" + +"Those who pass the examinations, I suppose," replied Kochubey, +crossing his legs and glancing round. + +"Well, I have Pryanichnikov serving under me, a splendid man, a +priceless man, but he's sixty. Is he to go up for examination?" + +"Yes, that's a difficulty, as education is not at all general, +but..." + +Count Kochubey did not finish. He rose, took Prince Andrew by the +arm, and went to meet a tall, bald, fair man of about forty with a +large open forehead and a long face of unusual and peculiar whiteness, +who was just entering. The newcomer wore a blue swallow-tail coat with +a cross suspended from his neck and a star on his left breast. It +was Speranski. Prince Andrew recognized him at once, and felt a +throb within him, as happens at critical moments of life. Whether it +was from respect, envy, or anticipation, he did not know. +Speranski's whole figure was of a peculiar type that made him easily +recognizable. In the society in which Prince Andrew lived he had never +seen anyone who together with awkward and clumsy gestures possessed +such calmness and self-assurance; he had never seen so resolute yet +gentle an expression as that in those half-closed, rather humid +eyes, or so firm a smile that expressed nothing; nor had he heard such +a refined, smooth, soft voice; above all he had never seen such +delicate whiteness of face or hands- hands which were broad, but +very plump, soft, and white. Such whiteness and softness Prince Andrew +had only seen on the faces of soldiers who had been long in +hospital. This was Speranski, Secretary of State, reporter to the +Emperor and his companion at Erfurt, where he had more than once met +and talked with Napoleon. + +Speranski did not shift his eyes from one face to another as +people involuntarily do on entering a large company and was in no +hurry to speak. He spoke slowly, with assurance that he would be +listened to, and he looked only at the person with whom he was +conversing. + +Prince Andrew followed Speranski's every word and movement with +particular attention. As happens to some people, especially to men who +judge those near to them severely, he always on meeting anyone new- +especially anyone whom, like Speranski, he knew by reputation- +expected to discover in him the perfection of human qualities. + +Speranski told Kochubey he was sorry he had been unable to come +sooner as he had been detained at the palace. He did not say that +the Emperor had kept him, and Prince Andrew noticed this affectation +of modesty. When Kochubey introduced Prince Andrew, Speranski slowly +turned his eyes to Bolkonski with his customary smile and looked at +him in silence. + +"I am very glad to make your acquaintance. I had heard of you, as +everyone has," he said after a pause. + +Kochubey said a few words about the reception Arakcheev had given +Bolkonski. Speranski smiled more markedly. + +"The chairman of the Committee on Army Regulations is my good friend +Monsieur Magnitski," he said, fully articulating every word and +syllable, "and if you like I can put you in touch with him." He paused +at the full stop. "I hope you will find him sympathetic and ready to +co-operate in promoting all that is reasonable." + +A circle soon formed round Speranski, and the old man who had talked +about his subordinate Pryanichnikov addressed a question to him. + +Prince Andrew without joining in the conversation watched every +movement of Speranski's: this man, not long since an insignificant +divinity student, who now, Bolkonski thought, held in his hands- those +plump white hands- the fate of Russia. Prince Andrew was struck by the +extraordinarily disdainful composure with which Speranski answered the +old man. He appeared to address condescending words to him from an +immeasurable height. When the old man began to speak too loud, +Speranski smiled and said he could not judge of the advantage or +disadvantage of what pleased the sovereign. + +Having talked for a little while in the general circle, Speranski +rose and coming up to Prince Andrew took him along to the other end of +the room. It was clear that he thought it necessary to interest +himself in Bolkonski. + +"I had no chance to talk with you, Prince, during the animated +conversation in which that venerable gentleman involved me," he said +with a mildly contemptuous smile, as if intimating by that smile +that he and Prince Andrew understood the insignificance of the +people with whom he had just been talking. This flattered Prince +Andrew. "I have known of you for a long time: first from your action +with regard to your serfs, a first example, of which it is very +desirable that there should be more imitators; and secondly because +you are one of those gentlemen of the chamber who have not +considered themselves offended by the new decree concerning the +ranks allotted to courtiers, which is causing so much gossip and +tittle-tattle." + +"No," said Prince Andrew, "my father did not wish me to take +advantage of the privilege. I began the service from the lower grade." + +"Your father, a man of the last century, evidently stands above +our contemporaries who so condemn this measure which merely +reestablishes natural justice." + +"I think, however, that these condemnations have some ground," +returned Prince Andrew, trying to resist Speranski's influence, of +which he began to be conscious. He did not like to agree with him in +everything and felt a wish to contradict. Though he usually spoke +easily and well, he felt a difficulty in expressing himself now +while talking with Speranski. He was too much absorbed in observing +the famous man's personality. + +"Grounds of personal ambition maybe," Speranski put in quietly. + +"And of state interest to some extent," said Prince Andrew. + +"What do you mean?" asked Speranski quietly, lowering his eyes. + +"I am an admirer of Montesquieu," replied Prince Andrew, "and his +idea that le principe des monarchies est l'honneur me parait +incontestable. Certains droits et privileges de la noblesse me +paraissent etre des moyens de soutenir ce sentiment."~^ + +^~ "The principle of monarchies is honor seems to me incontestable. +Certain rights and privileges for the aristocracy appear to me a means +of maintaining that sentiment." + +The smile vanished from Speranski's white face, which was much +improved by the change. Probably Prince Andrew's thought interested +him. + +"Si vous envisagez la question sous ce point de vue,"~^ he began, +pronouncing French with evident difficulty, and speaking even slower +than in Russian but quite calmly. + +^~ "If you regard the question from that point of view." + +Speranski went on to say that honor, l'honeur, cannot be upheld by +privileges harmful to the service; that honor, l'honneur, is either +a negative concept of not doing what is blameworthy or it is a +source of emulation in pursuit of commendation and rewards, which +recognize it. His arguments were concise, simple, and clear. + +"An institution upholding honor, the source of emulation, is one +similar to the Legion d'honneur of the great Emperor Napoleon, not +harmful but helpful to the success of the service, but not a class +or court privilege." + +"I do not dispute that, but it cannot be denied that court +privileges have attained the same end," returned Prince Andrew. "Every +courtier considers himself bound to maintain his position worthily." + +"Yet you do not care to avail yourself of the privilege, Prince," +said Speranski, indicating by a smile that he wished to finish amiably +an argument which was embarrassing for his companion. "If you will + +do me the honor of calling on me on Wednesday," he added, "I will, +after talking with Magnitski, let you know what may interest you, +and shall also have the pleasure of a more detailed chat with you." + +Closing his eyes, he bowed a la francaise, without taking leave, and +trying to attract as little attention as possible, he left the room. + +CHAPTER VI + +During the first weeks of his stay in Petersburg Prince Andrew +felt the whole trend of thought he had formed during his life of +seclusion quite overshadowed by the trifling cares that engrossed +him in that city. + +On returning home in the evening he would jot down in his notebook +four or five necessary calls or appointments for certain hours. The +mechanism of life, the arrangement of the day so as to be in time +everywhere, absorbed the greater part of his vital energy. He did +nothing, did not even think or find time to think, but only talked, +and talked successfully, of what he had thought while in the country. + +He sometimes noticed with dissatisfaction that he repeated the +same remark on the same day in different circles. But he was so busy +for whole days together that he had no time to notice that he was +thinking of nothing. + +As he had done on their first meeting at Kochubey's, Speranski +produced a strong impression on Prince Andrew on the Wednesday, when +he received him tete-a-tate at his own house and talked to him long +and confidentially. + +To Bolkonski so many people appeared contemptible and +insignificant creatures, and he so longed to find in someone the +living ideal of that perfection toward which he strove, that he +readily believed that in Speranski he had found this ideal of a +perfectly rational and virtuous man. Had Speranski sprung from the +same class as himself and possessed the same breeding and +traditions, Bolkonski would soon have discovered his weak, human, +unheroic sides; but as it was, Speranski's strange and logical turn of +mind inspired him with respect all the more because he did not quite +understand him. Moreover, Speranski, either because he appreciated the +other's capacity or because he considered it necessary to win him to +his side, showed off his dispassionate calm reasonableness before +Prince Andrew and flattered him with that subtle flattery which goes +hand in hand with self-assurance and consists in a tacit assumption +that one's companion is the only man besides oneself capable of +understanding the folly of the rest of mankind and the +reasonableness and profundity of one's own ideas. + +During their long conversation on Wednesday evening, Speranski +more than once remarked: "We regard everything that is above the +common level of rooted custom..." or, with a smile: "But we want the +wolves to be fed and the sheep to be safe..." or: "They cannot +understand this..." and all in a way that seemed to say: "We, you +and I, understand what they are and who we are." + +This first long conversation with Speranski only strengthened in +Prince Andrew the feeling he had experienced toward him at their first +meeting. He saw in him a remarkable, clear-thinking man of vast +intellect who by his energy and persistence had attained power, +which he was using solely for the welfare of Russia. In Prince +Andrew's eyes Speranski was the man he would himself have wished to +be- one who explained all the facts of life reasonably, considered +important only what was rational, and was capable of applying the +standard of reason to everything. Everything seemed so simple and +clear in Speranski's exposition that Prince Andrew involuntarily +agreed with him about everything. If he replied and argued, it was +only because he wished to maintain his independence and not submit +to Speranski's opinions entirely. Everything was right and +everything was as it should be: only one thing disconcerted Prince +Andrew. This was Speranski's cold, mirrorlike look, which did not +allow one to penetrate to his soul, and his delicate white hands, +which Prince Andrew involuntarily watched as one does watch the +hands of those who possess power. This mirrorlike gaze and those +delicate hands irritated Prince Andrew, he knew not why. He was +unpleasantly struck, too, by the excessive contempt for others that he +observed in Speranski, and by the diversity of lines of argument he +used to support his opinions. He made use of every kind of mental +device, except analogy, and passed too boldly, it seemed to Prince +Andrew, from one to another. Now he would take up the position of a +practical man and condemn dreamers; now that of a satirist, and +laugh ironically at his opponents; now grow severely logical, or +suddenly rise to the realm of metaphysics. (This last resource was one +he very frequently employed.) He would transfer a question to +metaphysical heights, pass on to definitions of space, time, and +thought, and, having deduced the refutation he needed, would again +descend to the level of the original discussion. + +In general the trait of Speranski's mentality which struck Prince +Andrew most was his absolute and unshakable belief in the power and +authority of reason. It was evident that the thought could never occur +to him which to Prince Andrew seemed so natural, namely, that it is +after all impossible to express all one thinks; and that he had +never felt the doubt, "Is not all I think and believe nonsense?" And +it was just this peculiarity of Speranski's mind that particularly +attracted Prince Andrew. + +During the first period of their acquaintance Bolkonski felt a +passionate admiration for him similar to that which he had once felt +for Bonaparte. The fact that Speranski was the son of a village +priest, and that stupid people might meanly despise him on account +of his humble origin (as in fact many did), caused Prince Andrew to +cherish his sentiment for him the more, and unconsciously to +strengthen it. + +On that first evening Bolkonski spent with him, having mentioned the +Commission for the Revision of the Code of Laws, Speranski told him +sarcastically that the Commission had existed for a hundred and +fifty years, had cost millions, and had done nothing except that +Rosenkampf had stuck labels on the corresponding paragraphs of the +different codes. + +"And that is all the state has for the millions it has spent," +said he. "We want to give the Senate new juridical powers, but we have +no laws. That is why it is a sin for men like you, Prince, not to +serve in these times!" + +Prince Andrew said that for that work an education in +jurisprudence was needed which he did not possess. + +"But nobody possesses it, so what would you have? It is a vicious +circle from which we must break a way out." + +A week later Prince Andrew was a member of the Committee on Army +Regulations and- what he had not at all expected- was chairman of a +section of the committee for the revision of the laws. At +Speranski's request he took the first part of the Civil Code that +was being drawn up and, with the aid of the Code Napoleon and the +Institutes of Justinian, he worked at formulating the section on +Personal Rights. + +CHAPTER VII + +Nearly two years before this, in 1808, Pierre on returning to +Petersburg after visiting his estates had involuntarily found +himself in a leading position among the Petersburg Freemasons. He +arranged dining and funeral lodge meetings, enrolled new members, +and busied himself uniting various lodges and acquiring authentic +charters. He gave money for the erection of temples and supplemented +as far as he could the collection of alms, in regard to which the +majority of members were stingy and irregular. He supported almost +singlehanded a poorhouse the order had founded in Petersburg. + +His life meanwhile continued as before, with the same infatuations +and dissipations. He liked to dine and drink well, and though he +considered it immoral and humiliating could not resist the temptations +of the bachelor circles in which he moved. + +Amid the turmoil of his activities and distractions, however, Pierre +at the end of a year began to feel that the more firmly he tried to +rest upon it, the more Masonic ground on which he stood gave way under +him. At the same time he felt that the deeper the ground sank under +him the closer bound he involuntarily became to the order. When he had +joined the Freemasons he had experienced the feeling of one who +confidently steps onto the smooth surface of a bog. When he put his +foot down it sank in. To make quite sure of the firmness the ground, +he put his other foot down and sank deeper still, became stuck in +it, and involuntarily waded knee-deep in the bog. + +Joseph Alexeevich was not in Petersburg- he had of late stood +aside from the affairs of the Petersburg lodges, and lived almost +entirely in Moscow. All the members of the lodges were men Pierre knew +in ordinary life, and it was difficult for him to regard them merely +as Brothers in Freemasonry and not as Prince B. or Ivan Vasilevich D., +whom he knew in society mostly as weak and insignificant men. Under +the Masonic aprons and insignia he saw the uniforms and decorations at +which they aimed in ordinary life. Often after collecting alms, and +reckoning up twenty to thirty rubles received for the most part in +promises from a dozen members, of whom half were as well able to pay +as himself, Pierre remembered the Masonic vow in which each Brother +promised to devote all his belongings to his neighbor, and doubts on +which he tried not to dwell arose in his soul. + +He divided the Brothers he knew into four categories. In the first +he put those who did not take an active part in the affairs of the +lodges or in human affairs, but were exclusively occupied with the +mystical science of the order: with questions of the threefold +designation of God, the three primordial elements- sulphur, mercury, +and salt- or the meaning of the square and all the various figures +of the temple of Solomon. Pierre respected this class of Brothers to +which the elder ones chiefly belonged, including, Pierre thought, +Joseph Alexeevich himself, but he did not share their interests. His +heart was not in the mystical aspect of Freemasonry. + +In the second category Pierre reckoned himself and others like +him, seeking and vacillating, who had not yet found in Freemasonry a +straight and comprehensible path, but hoped to do so. + +In the third category he included those Brothers (the majority) +who saw nothing in Freemasonry but the external forms and +ceremonies, and prized the strict performance of these forms without +troubling about their purport or significance. Such were Willarski and +even the Grand Master of the principal lodge. + +Finally, to the fourth category also a great many Brothers belonged, +particularly those who had lately joined. These according to +Pierre's observations were men who had no belief in anything, nor +desire for anything, but joined the Freemasons merely to associate +with the wealthy young Brothers who were influential through their +connections or rank, and of whom there were very many in the lodge. + +Pierre began to feel dissatisfied with what he was doing. +Freemasonry, at any rate as he saw it here, sometimes seemed to him +based merely on externals. He did not think of doubting Freemasonry +itself, but suspected that Russian Masonry had taken a wrong path +and deviated from its original principles. And so toward the end of +the year he went abroad to be initiated into the higher secrets of the +order. + +In the summer of 1809 Pierre returned to Petersburg. Our +Freemasons knew from correspondence with those abroad that Bezukhov +had obtained the confidence of many highly placed persons, had been +initiated into many mysteries, had been raised to a higher grade, +and was bringing back with him much that might conduce to the +advantage of the Masonic cause in Russia. The Petersburg Freemasons +all came to see him, tried to ingratiate themselves with him, and it +seemed to them all that he was preparing something for them and +concealing it. + +A solemn meeting of the lodge of the second degree was convened, +at which Pierre promised to communicate to the Petersburg Brothers +what he had to deliver to them from the highest leaders of their +order. The meeting was a full one. After the usual ceremonies Pierre +rose and began his address. + +"Dear Brothers," he began, blushing and stammering, with a written +speech in his hand, "it is not sufficient to observe our mysteries +in the seclusion of our lodge- we must act- act! We are drowsing, +but we must act." Pierre raised his notebook and began to read. + +"For the dissemination of pure truth and to secure the triumph of +virtue," he read, "we must cleanse men from prejudice, diffuse +principles in harmony with the spirit of the times, undertake the +education of the young, unite ourselves in indissoluble bonds with the +wisest men, boldly yet prudently overcome superstitions, infidelity, +and folly, and form of those devoted to us a body linked together by +unity of purpose and possessed of authority and power. + +"To attain this end we must secure a preponderance of virtue over +vice and must endeavor to secure that the honest man may, even in this +world, receive a lasting reward for his virtue. But in these great +endeavors we are gravely hampered by the political institutions of +today. What is to be done in these circumstances? To favor +revolutions, overthrow everything, repel force by force?... No! We are +very far from that. Every violent reform deserves censure, for it +quite fails to remedy evil while men remain what they are, and also +because wisdom needs no violence. + +"The whole plan of our order should be based on the idea of +preparing men of firmness and virtue bound together by unity of +conviction- aiming at the punishment of vice and folly, and +patronizing talent and virtue: raising worthy men from the dust and +attaching them to our Brotherhood. Only then will our order have the +power unobtrusively to bind the hands of the protectors of disorder +and to control them without their being aware of it. In a word, we +must found a form of government holding universal sway, which should +be diffused over the whole world without destroying the bonds of +citizenship, and beside which all other governments can continue in +their customary course and do everything except what impedes the great +aim of our order, which is to obtain for virtue the victory over vice. +This aim was that of Christianity itself. It taught men to be wise and +good and for their own benefit to follow the example and instruction +of the best and wisest men. + +"At that time, when everything was plunged in darkness, preaching +alone was of course sufficient. The novelty of Truth endowed her +with special strength, but now we need much more powerful methods. +It is now necessary that man, governed by his senses, should find in +virtue a charm palpable to those senses. It is impossible to eradicate +the passions; but we must strive to direct them to a noble aim, and it +is therefore necessary that everyone should be able to satisfy his +passions within the limits of virtue. Our order should provide means +to that end. + +"As soon as we have a certain number of worthy men in every state, +each of them again training two others and all being closely united, +everything will be possible for our order, which has already in secret +accomplished much for the welfare of mankind." + +This speech not only made a strong impression, but created +excitement in the lodge. The majority of the Brothers, seeing in it +dangerous designs of Illuminism,~^ met it with a coldness that +surprised Pierre. The Grand Master began answering him, and Pierre +began developing his views with more and more warmth. It was long +since there had been so stormy a meeting. Parties were formed, some +accusing Pierre of Illuminism, others supporting him. At that +meeting he was struck for the first time by the endless variety of +men's minds, which prevents a truth from ever presenting itself +identically to two persons. Even those members who seemed to be on his +side understood him in their own way with limitations and +alterations he could not agree to, as what he always wanted most was +to convey his thought to others just as he himself understood it. + +^~ The Illuminati sought to substitute republican for monarchical +institutions. + +At the end of the meeting the Grand Master with irony and ill-will +reproved Bezukhov for his vehemence and said it was not love of virtue +alone, but also a love of strife that had moved him in the dispute. +Pierre did not answer him and asked briefly whether his proposal would +be accepted. He was told that it would not, and without waiting for +the usual formalities he left the lodge and went home. + +CHAPTER VIII + +Again Pierre was overtaken by the depression he so dreaded. For +three days after the delivery of his speech at the lodge he lay on a +sofa at home receiving no one and going nowhere. + +It was just then that he received a letter from his wife, who +implored him to see her, telling him how grieved she was about him and +how she wished to devote her whole life to him. + +At the end of the letter she informed him that in a few days she +would return to Petersburg from abroad. + +Following this letter one of the Masonic Brothers whom Pierre +respected less than the others forced his way in to see him and, +turning the conversation upon Pierre's matrimonial affairs, by way +of fraternal advice expressed the opinion that his severity to his +wife was wrong and that he was neglecting one of the first rules of +Freemasonry by not forgiving the penitent. + +At the same time his mother-in-law, Prince Vasili's wife, sent to +him imploring him to come if only for a few minutes to discuss a +most important matter. Pierre saw that there was a conspiracy +against him and that they wanted to reunite him with his wife, and +in the mood he then was, this was not even unpleasant to him. +Nothing mattered to him. Nothing in life seemed to him of much +importance, and under the influence of the depression that possessed +him he valued neither his liberty nor his resolution to punish his +wife. + +"No one is right and no one is to blame; so she too is not to +blame," he thought. + +If he did not at once give his consent to a reunion with his wife, +it was only because in his state of depression he did not feel able to +take any step. Had his wife come to him, he would not have turned +her away. Compared to what preoccupied him, was it not a matter of +indifference whether he lived with his wife or not? + +Without replying either to his wife or his mother-in-law, Pierre +late one night prepared for a journey and started for Moscow to see +Joseph Alexeevich. This is what he noted in his diary: + +Moscow, 17th November + +I have just returned from my benefactor, and hasten to write down +what I have experienced. Joseph Alexeevich is living poorly and has +for three years been suffering from a painful disease of the +bladder. No one has ever heard him utter a groan or a word of +complaint. From morning till late at night, except when he eats his +very plain food, he is working at science. He received me graciously +and made me sit down on the bed on which he lay. I made the sign of +the Knights of the East and of Jerusalem, and he responded in the same +manner, asking me with a mild smile what I had learned and gained in +the Prussian and Scottish lodges. I told him everything as best I +could, and told him what I had proposed to our Petersburg lodge, of +the bad reception I had encountered, and of my rupture with the +Brothers. Joseph Alexeevich, having remained silent and thoughtful for +a good while, told me his view of the matter, which at once lit up for +me my whole past and the future path I should follow. He surprised +me by asking whether I remembered the threefold aim of the order: +(1) The preservation and study of the mystery. (2) The purification +and reformation of oneself for its reception, and (3) The +improvement of the human race by striving for such purification. Which +is the principal aim of these three? Certainly self-reformation and +self-purification. Only to this aim can we always strive independently +of circumstances. But at the same time just this aim demands the +greatest efforts of us; and so, led astray by pride, losing sight of +this aim, we occupy ourselves either with the mystery which in our +impurity we are unworthy to receive, or seek the reformation of the +human race while ourselves setting an example of baseness and +profligacy. Illuminism is not a pure doctrine, just because it is +attracted by social activity and puffed up by pride. On this ground +Joseph Alexeevich condemned my speech and my whole activity, and in +the depth of my soul I agreed with him. Talking of my family affairs +he said to me, "the chief duty of a true Mason, as I have told you, +lies in perfecting himself. We often think that by removing all the +difficulties of our life we shall more quickly reach our aim, but on +the contrary, my dear sir, it is only in the midst of worldly cares +that we can attain our three chief aims: (1) Self-knowledge- for man +can only know himself by comparison, (2) Self-perfecting, which can +only be attained by conflict, and (3) The attainment of the chief +virtue- love of death. Only the vicissitudes of life can show us its +vanity and develop our innate love of death or of rebirth to a new +life." These words are all the more remarkable because, in spite of +his great physical sufferings, Joseph Alexeevich is never weary of +life though he loves death, for which- in spite of the purity and +loftiness of his inner man- he does not yet feel himself +sufficiently prepared. My benefactor then explained to me fully the +meaning of the Great Square of creation and pointed out to me that the +numbers three and seven are the basis of everything. He advised me not +to avoid intercourse with the Petersburg Brothers, but to take up only +second-grade posts in the lodge, to try, while diverting the +Brothers from pride, to turn them toward the true path +self-knowledge and self-perfecting. Besides this he advised me for +myself personally above all to keep a watch over myself, and to that +end he gave me a notebook, the one I am now writing in and in which +I will in future note down all my actions. + +Petersburg, 23rd November + +I am again living with my wife. My mother-in-law came to me in tears +and said that Helene was here and that she implored me to hear her; +that she was innocent and unhappy at my desertion, and much more. I +knew that if I once let myself see her I should not have strength to +go on refusing what she wanted. In my perplexity I did not know +whose aid and advice to seek. Had my benefactor been here he would +have told me what to do. I went to my room and reread Joseph +Alexeevich's letters and recalled my conversations with him, and +deduced from it all that I ought not to refuse a suppliant, and +ought to reach a helping hand to everyone- especially to one so +closely bound to me- and that I must bear my cross. But if I forgive +her for the sake of doing right, then let union with her have only a +spiritual aim. That is what I decided, and what I wrote to Joseph +Alexeevich. I told my wife that I begged her to forget the past, to +forgive me whatever wrong I may have done her, and that I had +nothing to forgive. It gave me joy to tell her this. She need not know +how hard it was for me to see her again. I have settled on the upper +floor of this big house and am experiencing a happy feeling of +regeneration. + +CHAPTER IX + +At that time, as always happens, the highest society that met at +court and at the grand balls was divided into several circles, each +with its own particular tone. The largest of these was the French +circle of the Napoleonic alliance, the circle of Count Rumyantsev +and Caulaincourt. In this group Helene, as soon as she had settled +in Petersburg with her husband, took a very prominent place. She was +visited by the members of the French embassy and by many belonging +to that circle and noted for their intellect and polished manners. + +Helene had been at Erfurt during the famous meeting of the +Emperors and had brought from there these connections with the +Napoleonic notabilities. At Erfurt her success had been brilliant. +Napoleon himself had noticed her in the theater and said of her: +"C'est un superbe animal."~^ Her success as a beautiful and elegant +woman did not surprise Pierre, for she had become even handsomer +than before. What did surprise him was that during these last two +years his wife had succeeded in gaining the reputation "d' une femme +charmante, aussi spirituelle que belle."~^ The distinguished +Prince de Ligne wrote her eight-page letters. Bilibin saved up his +epigrams to produce them in Countess Bezukhova's presence. To be +received in the Countess Bezukhova's salon was regarded as a diploma +of intellect. Young men read books before attending Helene's evenings, +to have something to say in her salon, and secretaries of the embassy, +and even ambassadors, confided diplomatic secrets to her, so that in a +way Helene was a power. Pierre, who knew she was very stupid, +sometimes attended, with a strange feeling of perplexity and fear, her +evenings and dinner parties, where politics, poetry, and philosophy +were discussed. At these parties his feelings were like those of a +conjuror who always expects his trick to be found out at any moment. +But whether because stupidity was just what was needed to run such a +salon, or because those who were deceived found pleasure in the +deception, at any rate it remained unexposed and Helene Bezukhova's +reputation as a lovely and clever woman became so firmly established +that she could say the emptiest and stupidest things and everybody +would go into raptures over every word of hers and look for a profound +meaning in it of which she herself had no conception. + +^~ "That's a superb animal." + +^~ "Of a charming woman, as witty as she is lovely." + +Pierre was just the husband needed for a brilliant society woman. He +was that absent-minded crank, a grand seigneur husband who was in no +one's way, and far from spoiling the high tone and general +impression of the drawing room, he served, by the contrast he +presented to her, as an advantageous background to his elegant and +tactful wife. Pierre during the last two years, as a result of his +continual absorption in abstract interests and his sincere contempt +for all else, had acquired in his wife's circle, which did not +interest him, that air of unconcern, indifference, and benevolence +toward all, which cannot be acquired artificially and therefore +inspires involuntary respect. He entered his wife's drawing room as +one enters a theater, was acquainted with everybody, equally pleased +to see everyone, and equally indifferent to them all. Sometimes he +joined in a conversation which interested him and, regardless of +whether any "gentlemen of the embassy" were present or not, +lispingly expressed his views, which were sometimes not at all in +accord with the accepted tone of the moment. But the general opinion +concerning the queer husband of "the most distinguished woman in +Petersburg" was so well established that no one took his freaks +seriously. + +Among the many young men who frequented her house every day, Boris +Drubetskoy, who had already achieved great success in the service, was +the most intimate friend of the Bezukhov household since Helene's +return from Erfurt. Helene spoke of him as "mon page" and treated +him like a child. Her smile for him was the same as for everybody, but +sometimes that smile made Pierre uncomfortable. Toward him Boris +behaved with a particularly dignified and sad deference. This shade of +deference also disturbed Pierre. He had suffered so painfully three +years before from the mortification to which his wife had subjected +him that he now protected himself from the danger of its repetition, +first by not being a husband to his wife, and secondly by not allowing +himself to suspect. + +"No, now that she has become a bluestocking she has finally +renounced her former infatuations," he told himself. "There has +never been an instance of a bluestocking being carried away by affairs +of the heart"- a statement which, though gathered from an unknown +source, he believed implicitly. Yet strange to say Boris' presence +in his wife's drawing room (and he was almost always there) had a +physical effect upon Pierre; it constricted his limbs and destroyed +the unconsciousness and freedom of his movements. + +"What a strange antipathy," thought Pierre, "yet I used to like +him very much." + +In the eyes of the world Pierre was a great gentleman, the rather +blind and absurd husband of a distinguished wife, a clever crank who +did nothing but harmed nobody and was a first-rate, good-natured +fellow. But a complex and difficult process of internal development +was taking place all this time in Pierre's soul, revealing much to him +and causing him many spiritual doubts and joys. + +CHAPTER X + +Pierre went on with his diary, and this is what he wrote in it +during that time: + +24th November + +Got up at eight, read the Scriptures, then went to my duties. [By +Joseph Alexeevich's advice Pierre had entered the service of the state +and served on one of the committees.] Returned home for dinner and +dined alone- the countess had many visitors I do not like. I ate and +drank moderately and after dinner copied out some passages for the +Brothers. In the evening I went down to the countess and told a +funny story about B., and only remembered that I ought not to have +done so when everybody laughed loudly at it. + +I am going to bed with a happy and tranquil mind. Great God, help me +to walk in Thy paths, (1) to conquer anger by calmness and +deliberation, (2) to vanquish lust by self-restraint and repulsion, +(3) to withdraw from worldliness, but not avoid (a) the service of the +state, (b) family duties, (c) relations with my friends, and the +management of my affairs. + +27th November + +I got up late. On waking I lay long in bed yielding to sloth. O God, +help and strengthen me that I may walk in Thy ways! Read the +Scriptures, but without proper feeling. Brother Urusov came and we +talked about worldly vanities. He told me of the Emperor's new +projects. I began to criticize them, but remembered my rules and my +benefactor's words- that a true Freemason should be a zealous worker +for the state when his aid is required and a quiet onlooker when not +called on to assist. My tongue is my enemy. Brothers G. V. and O. +visited me and we had a preliminary talk about the reception of a +new Brother. They laid on me the duty of Rhetor. I feel myself weak +and unworthy. Then our talk turned to the interpretation of the +seven pillars and steps of the Temple, the seven sciences, the seven +virtues, the seven vices, and the seven gifts of the Holy Spirit. +Brother O. was very eloquent. In the evening the admission took place. +The new decoration of the Premises contributed much to the +magnificence of the spectacle. It was Boris Drubetskoy who was +admitted. I nominated him and was the Rhetor. A strange feeling +agitated me all the time I was alone with him in the dark chamber. I +caught myself harboring a feeling of hatred toward him which I +vainly tried to overcome. That is why I should really like to save him +from evil and lead him into the path of truth, but evil thoughts of +him did not leave me. It seemed to me that his object in entering +the Brotherhood was merely to be intimate and in favor with members of +our lodge. Apart from the fact that he had asked me several times +whether N. and S. were members of our lodge (a question to which I +could not reply) and that according to my observation he is +incapable of feeling respect for our holy order and is too preoccupied +and satisfied with the outer man to desire spiritual improvement, I +had no cause to doubt him, but he seemed to me insincere, and all +the time I stood alone with him in the dark temple it seemed to me +that he was smiling contemptuously at my words, and I wished really to +stab his bare breast with the sword I held to it. I could not be +eloquent, nor could I frankly mention my doubts to the Brothers and to +the Grand Master. Great Architect of Nature, help me to find the +true path out of the labyrinth of lies! + +After this, three pages were left blank in the diary, and then +the following was written: + +I have had a long and instructive talk alone with Brother V., who +advised me to hold fast by brother A. Though I am unworthy, much was +revealed to me. Adonai is the name of the creator of the world. Elohim +is the name of the ruler of all. The third name is the name +unutterable which means the All. Talks with Brother V. strengthen, +refresh, and support me in the path of virtue. In his presence doubt +has no place. The distinction between the poor teachings of mundane +science and our sacred all-embracing teaching is clear to me. Human +sciences dissect everything to comprehend it, and kill everything to +examine it. In the holy science of our order all is one, all is +known in its entirety and life. The Trinity- the three elements of +matter- are sulphur, mercury, and salt. Sulphur is of an oily and +fiery nature; in combination with salt by its fiery nature it +arouses a desire in the latter by means of which it attracts +mercury, seizes it, holds it, and in combination produces other +bodies. Mercury is a fluid, volatile, spiritual essence. Christ, the +Holy Spirit, Him!... + +3rd December + +Awoke late, read the Scriptures but was apathetic. Afterwards went +and paced up and down the large hall. I wished to meditate, but +instead my imagination pictured an occurrence of four years ago, +when Dolokhov, meeting me in Moscow after our duel, said he hoped I +was enjoying perfect peace of mind in spite of my wife's absence. At +the time I gave him no answer. Now I recalled every detail of that +meeting and in my mind gave him the most malevolent and bitter +replies. I recollected myself and drove away that thought only when +I found myself glowing with anger, but I did not sufficiently +repent. Afterwards Boris Drubetskoy came and began relating various +adventures. His coming vexed me from the first, and I said something +disagreeable to him. He replied. I flared up and said much that was +unpleasant and even rude to him. He became silent, and I recollected +myself only when it was too late. My God, I cannot get on with him +at all. The cause of this is my egotism. I set myself above him and so +become much worse than he, for he is lenient to my rudeness while I on +the contrary nourish contempt for him. O God, grant that in his +presence I may rather see my own vileness, and behave so that he too +may benefit. After dinner I fell asleep and as I was drowsing off I +clearly heard a voice saying in my left ear, "Thy day!" + +I dreamed that I was walking in the dark and was suddenly surrounded +by dogs, but I went on undismayed. Suddenly a smallish dog seized my +left thigh with its teeth and would not let go. I began to throttle it +with my hands. Scarcely had I torn it off before another, a bigger +one, began biting me. I lifted it up, but the higher I lifted it the +bigger and heavier it grew. And suddenly Brother A. came and, taking +my arm, led me to a building to enter which we had to pass along a +narrow plank. I stepped on it, but it bent and gave way and I began to +clamber up a fence which I could scarcely reach with my hands. After +much effort I dragged myself up, so that my leg hung down on one +side and my body on the other. I looked round and saw Brother A. +standing on the fence and pointing me to a broad avenue and garden, +and in the garden was a large and beautiful building. I woke up. O +Lord, great Architect of Nature, help me to tear from myself these +dogs- my passions especially the last, which unites in itself the +strength of all the former ones, and aid me to enter that temple of +virtue to a vision of which I attained in my dream. + +7th December + +I dreamed that Joseph Alexeevich was sitting in my house, and that I +was very glad and wished to entertain him. It seemed as if I chattered +incessantly with other people and suddenly remembered that this +could not please him, and I wished to come close to him and embrace +him. But as soon as I drew near I saw that his face had changed and +grown young, and he was quietly telling me something about the +teaching of our order, but so softly that I could not hear it. Then it +seemed that we all left the room and something strange happened. We +were sitting or lying on the floor. He was telling me something, and I +wished to show him my sensibility, and not listening to what he was +saying I began picturing to myself the condition of my inner man and +the grace of God sanctifying me. And tears came into my eyes, and I +was glad he noticed this. But be looked at me with vexation and jumped +up, breaking off his remarks. I felt abashed and asked whether what he +had been saying did not concern me; but he did not reply, gave me a +kind look, and then we suddenly found ourselves in my bedroom where +there is a double bed. He lay down on the edge of it and I burned with +longing to caress him and lie down too. And he said, "Tell me +frankly what is your chief temptation? Do you know it? I think you +know it already." Abashed by this question, I replied that sloth was +my chief temptation. He shook his head incredulously; and even more +abashed, I said that though I was living with my wife as he advised, I +was not living with her as her husband. To this he replied that one +should not deprive a wife of one's embraces and gave me to +understand that that was my duty. But I replied that I should be +ashamed to do it, and suddenly everything vanished. And I awoke and +found in my mind the text from the Gospel: "The life was the light +of men. And the light shineth in darkness; and the darkness +comprehended it not." Joseph Alexeevich's face had looked young and +bright. That day I received a letter from my benefactor in which he +wrote about "conjugal duties." + +9th December + +I had a dream from which I awoke with a throbbing heart. I saw +that I was in Moscow in my house, in the big sitting room, and +Joseph Alexeevich came in from the drawing room. I seemed to know at +once that the process of regeneration had already taken place in +him, and I rushed to meet him. I embraced him and kissed his hands, +and he said, "Hast thou noticed that my face is different?" I looked +at him, still holding him in my arms, and saw that his face was young, +but that he had no hair on his head and his features were quite +changed. And I said, "I should have known you had I met you by +chance," and I thought to myself, "Am I telling the truth?" And +suddenly I saw him lying like a dead body; then he gradually recovered +and went with me into my study carrying a large book of sheets of +drawing paper; I said, "I drew that," and he answered by bowing his +head. I opened the book, and on all the pages there were excellent +drawings. And in my dream I knew that these drawings represented the +love adventures of the soul with its beloved. And on its pages I saw a +beautiful representation of a maiden in transparent garments and +with a transparent body, flying up to the clouds. And I seemed to know +that this maiden was nothing else than a representation of the Song of +Songs. And looking at those drawings I dreamed I felt that I was doing +wrong, but could not tear myself away from them. Lord, help me! My +God, if Thy forsaking me is Thy doing, Thy will be done; but if I am +myself the cause, teach me what I should do! I shall perish of my +debauchery if Thou utterly desertest me! + +CHAPTER XI + +The Rostovs' monetary affairs had not improved during the two +years they had spent in the country. + +Though Nicholas Rostov had kept firmly to his resolution and was +still serving modestly in an obscure regiment, spending +comparatively little, the way of life at Otradnoe- Mitenka's +management of affairs, in particular- was such that the debts +inevitably increased every year. The only resource obviously +presenting itself to the old count was to apply for an official +post, so he had come to Petersburg to look for one and also, as he +said, to let the lassies enjoy themselves for the last time. + +Soon after their arrival in Petersburg Berg proposed to Vera and was +accepted. + +Though in Moscow the Rostovs belonged to the best society without +themselves giving it a thought, yet in Petersburg their circle of +acquaintances was a mixed and indefinite one. In Petersburg they +were provincials, and the very people they had entertained in Moscow +without inquiring to what set they belonged, here looked down on them. + +The Rostovs lived in the same hospitable way in Petersburg as in +Moscow, and the most diverse people met at their suppers. Country +neighbors from Otradnoe, impoverished old squires and their daughters, +Peronskaya a maid of honor, Pierre Bezukhov, and the son of their +district postmaster who had obtained a post in Petersburg. Among the +men who very soon became frequent visitors at the Rostovs' house in +Petersburg were Boris, Pierre whom the count had met in the street and +dragged home with him, and Berg who spent whole days at the Rostovs' +and paid the eldest daughter, Countess Vera, the attentions a young +man pays when he intends to propose. + +Not in vain had Berg shown everybody his right hand wounded at +Austerlitz and held a perfectly unnecessary sword in his left. He +narrated that episode so persistently and with so important an air +that everyone believed in the merit and usefulness of his deed, and he +had obtained two decorations for Austerlitz. + +In the Finnish war he also managed to distinguish himself. He had +picked up the scrap of a grenade that had killed an aide-de-camp +standing near the commander in chief and had taken it to his +commander. Just as he had done after Austerlitz, he related this +occurrence at such length and so insistently that everyone again +believed it had been necessary to do this, and he received two +decorations for the Finnish war also. In 1809 he was a captain in +the Guards, wore medals, and held some special lucrative posts in +Petersburg. + +Though some skeptics smiled when told of Berg's merits, it could not +be denied that he was a painstaking and brave officer, on excellent +terms with his superiors, and a moral young man with a brilliant +career before him and an assured position in society. + +Four years before, meeting a German comrade in the stalls of a +Moscow theater, Berg had pointed out Vera Rostova to him and had +said in German, "das soll mein Weib werden,"~^ and from that moment had +made up his mind to marry her. Now in Petersburg, having considered +the Rostovs' position and his own, he decided that the time had come +to propose. + +^~ "That girl shall be my wife." + +Berg's proposal was at first received with a perplexity that was not +flattering to him. At first it seemed strange that the son of an +obscure Livonian gentleman should propose marriage to a Countess +Rostova; but Berg's chief characteristic was such a naive and good +natured egotism that the Rostovs involuntarily came to think it +would be a good thing, since he himself was so firmly convinced that +it was good, indeed excellent. Moreover, the Rostovs' affairs were +seriously embarrassed, as the suitor could not but know; and above +all, Vera was twenty-four, had been taken out everywhere, and though +she was certainly good-looking and sensible, no one up to now had +proposed to her. So they gave their consent. + +"You see," said Berg to his comrade, whom he called "friend" only +because he knew that everyone has friends, "you see, I have considered +it all, and should not marry if I had not thought it all out or if +it were in any way unsuitable. But on the contrary, my papa and +mamma are now provided for- I have arranged that rent for them in +the Baltic Provinces- and I can live in Petersburg on my pay, and with +her fortune and my good management we can get along nicely. I am not +marrying for money- I consider that dishonorable- but a wife should +bring her share and a husband his. I have my position in the +service, she has connections and some means. In our times that is +worth something, isn't it? But above all, she is a handsome, estimable +girl, and she loves me..." + +Berg blushed and smiled. + +"And I love her, because her character is sensible and very good. +Now the other sister, though they are the same family, is quite +different- an unpleasant character and has not the same +intelligence. She is so... you know?... Unpleasant... But my +fiancee!... Well, you will be coming," he was going to say, "to dine," +but changed his mind and said "to take tea with us," and quickly +doubling up his tongue he blew a small round ring of tobacco smoke, +perfectly embodying his dream of happiness. + +After the first feeling of perplexity aroused in the parents by +Berg's proposal, the holiday tone of joyousness usual at such times +took possession of the family, but the rejoicing was external and +insincere. In the family's feeling toward this wedding a certain +awkwardness and constraint was evident, as if they were ashamed of not +having loved Vera sufficiently and of being so ready to get her off +their hands. The old count felt this most. He would probably have been +unable to state the cause of his embarrassment, but it resulted from +the state of his affairs. He did not know at all how much he had, what +his debts amounted to, or what dowry he could give Vera. When his +daughters were born he had assigned to each of them, for her dowry, an +estate with three hundred serfs; but one of these estates had +already been sold, and the other was mortgaged and the interest so +much in arrears that it would have to be sold, so that it was +impossible to give it to Vera. Nor had he any money. + +Berg had already been engaged a month, and only a week remained +before the wedding, but the count had not yet decided in his own +mind the question of the dowry, nor spoken to his wife about it. At +one time the count thought of giving her the Ryazan estate or of +selling a forest, at another time of borrowing money on a note of +hand. A few days before the wedding Berg entered the count's study +early one morning and, with a pleasant smile, respectfully asked his +future father-in-law to let him know what Vera's dowry would be. The +count was so disconcerted by this long-foreseen inquiry that without +consideration he gave the first reply that came into his head. "I like +your being businesslike about it.... I like it. You shall be +satisfied...." + +And patting Berg on the shoulder he got up, wishing to end the +conversation. But Berg, smiling pleasantly, explained that if he did +not know for certain how much Vera would have and did not receive at +least part of the dowry in advance, he would have to break matters +off. + +"Because, consider, Count- if I allowed myself to marry now +without having definite means to maintain my wife, I should be +acting badly...." + +The conversation ended by the count, who wished to be generous and +to avoid further importunity, saying that he would give a note of hand +for eighty thousand rubles. Berg smiled meekly, kissed the count on +the shoulder, and said that he was very grateful, but that it was +impossible for him to arrange his new life without receiving thirty +thousand in ready money. "Or at least twenty thousand, Count," he +added, "and then a note of hand for only sixty thousand." + +"Yes, yes, all right!" said the count hurriedly. "Only excuse me, my +dear fellow, I'll give you twenty thousand and a note of hand for +eighty thousand as well. Yes, yes! Kiss me." + +CHAPTER XII + +Natasha was sixteen and it was the year 1809, the very year to which +she had counted on her fingers with Boris after they had kissed four +years ago. Since then she had not seen him. Before Sonya and her +mother, if Boris happened to be mentioned, she spoke quite freely of +that episode as of some childish, long-forgotten matter that was not +worth mentioning. But in the secret depths of her soul the question +whether her engagement to Boris was a jest or an important, binding +promise tormented her. + +Since Boris left Moscow in 1805 to join the army he had had not seen +the Rostovs. He had been in Moscow several times, and had passed +near Otradnoe, but had never been to see them. + +Sometimes it occurred to Natasha that he not wish to see her, and +this conjecture was confirmed by the sad tone in which her elders +spoke of him. + +"Nowadays old friends are not remembered," the countess would say +when Boris was mentioned. + +Anna Mikhaylovna also had of late visited them less frequently, +seemed to hold herself with particular dignity, and always spoke +rapturously and gratefully of the merits of her son and the +brilliant career on which he had entered. When the Rostovs came to +Petersburg Boris called on them. + +He drove to their house in some agitation. The memory of Natasha was +his most poetic recollection. But he went with the firm intention of +letting her and her parents feel that the childish relations between +himself and Natasha could not be binding either on her or on him. He +had a brilliant position in society thanks to his intimacy with +Countess Bezukhova, a brilliant position in the service thanks to +the patronage of an important personage whose complete confidence he +enjoyed, and he was beginning to make plans for marrying one of the +richest heiresses in Petersburg, plans which might very easily be +realized. When he entered the Rostovs' drawing room Natasha was in her +own room. When she heard of his arrival she almost ran into the +drawing room, flushed and beaming with a more than cordial smile. + +Boris remembered Natasha in a short dress, with dark eyes shining +from under her curls and boisterous, childish laughter, as he had +known her four years before; and so he was taken aback when quite a +different Natasha entered, and his face expressed rapturous +astonishment. This expression on his face pleased Natasha. + +"Well, do you recognize your little madcap playmate?" asked the +countess. + +Boris kissed Natasha's hand and said that he was astonished at the +change in her. + +"How handsome you have grown!" + +"I should think so!" replied Natasha's laughing eyes. + +"And is Papa older?" she asked. + +Natasha sat down and, without joining in Boris' conversation with +the countess, silently and minutely studied her childhood's suitor. He +felt the weight of that resolute and affectionate scrutiny and glanced +at her occasionally. + +Boris' uniform, spurs, tie, and the way his hair was brushed were +all comme il faut and in the latest fashion. This Natasha noticed at +once. He sat rather sideways in the armchair next to the countess, +arranging with his right hand the cleanest of gloves that fitted his +left hand like a skin, and he spoke with a particularly refined +compression of his lips about the amusements of the highest Petersburg +society, recalling with mild irony old times in Moscow and Moscow +acquaintances. It was not accidentally, Natasha felt, that he alluded, +when speaking of the highest aristocracy, to an ambassador's ball he +had attended, and to invitations he had received from N.N. and S.S. + +All this time Natasha sat silent, glancing up at him from under +her brows. This gaze disturbed and confused Boris more and more. He +looked round more frequently toward her, and broke off in what he +was saying. He did not stay more than ten minutes, then rose and +took his leave. The same inquisitive, challenging, and rather +mocking eyes still looked at him. After his first visit Boris said +to himself that Natasha attracted him just as much as ever, but that +he must not yield to that feeling, because to marry her, a girl almost +without fortune, would mean ruin to his career, while to renew their +former relations without intending to marry her would be dishonorable. +Boris made up his mind to avoid meeting Natasha, but despite that +resolution he called again a few days later and began calling often +and spending whole days at the Rostovs'. It seemed to him that he +ought to have an explanation with Natasha and tell her that the old +times must be forgotten, that in spite of everything... she could +not be his wife, that he had no means, and they would never let her +marry him. But he failed to do so and felt awkward about entering on +such an explanation. From day to day he became more and more +entangled. It seemed to her mother and Sonya that Natasha was in +love with Boris as of old. She sang him his favorite songs, showed him +her album, making him write in it, did not allow him to allude to +the past, letting it be understood how was the present; and every +day he went away in a fog, without having said what he meant to, and +not knowing what he was doing or why he came, or how it would all end. +He left off visiting Helene and received reproachful notes from her +every day, and yet he continued to spend whole days with the Rostovs. + +CHAPTER XIII + +One night when the old countess, in nightcap and dressing jacket, +without her false curls, and with her poor little knob of hair showing +under her white cotton cap, knelt sighing and groaning on a rug and +bowing to the ground in prayer, her door creaked and Natasha, also +in a dressing jacket with slippers on her bare feet and her hair in +curlpapers, ran in. The countess- her prayerful mood dispelled- looked +round and frowned. She was finishing her last prayer: "Can it be +that this couch will be my grave?" Natasha, flushed and eager, +seeing her mother in prayer, suddenly checked her rush, half sat down, +and unconsciously put out her tongue as if chiding herself. Seeing +that her mother was still praying she ran on tiptoe to the bed and, +rapidly slipping one little foot against the other, pushed off her +slippers and jumped onto the bed the countess had feared might +become her grave. This couch was high, with a feather bed and five +pillows each smaller than the one below. Natasha jumped on it, sank +into the feather bed, rolled over to the wall, and began snuggling +up the bedclothes as she settled down, raising her knees to her +chin, kicking out and laughing almost inaudibly, now covering +herself up head and all, and now peeping at her mother. The countess +finished her prayers and came to the bed with a stern face, but +seeing, that Natasha's head was covered, she smiled in her kind, +weak way. + +"Now then, now then!" said she. + +"Mamma, can we have a talk? Yes?" said Natasha. "Now, just one on +your throat and another... that'll do!" And seizing her mother round +the neck, she kissed her on the throat. In her behavior to her +mother Natasha seemed rough, but she was so sensitive and tactful that +however she clasped her mother she always managed to do it without +hurting her or making her feel uncomfortable or displeased. + +"Well, what is it tonight?" said the mother, having arranged her +pillows and waited until Natasha, after turning over a couple of +times, had settled down beside her under the quilt, spread out her +arms, and assumed a serious expression. + +These visits of Natasha's at night before the count returned from +his club were one of the greatest pleasures of both mother, and +daughter. + +"What is it tonight?- But I have to tell you..." + +Natasha put her hand on her mother's mouth. + +"About Boris... I know," she said seriously; "that's what I have +come about. Don't say it- I know. No, do tell me!" and she removed her +hand. "Tell me, Mamma! He's nice?" + +"Natasha, you are sixteen. At your age I was married. You say +Boris is nice. He is very nice, and I love him like a son. But what +then?... What are you thinking about? You have quite turned his +head, I can see that...." + +As she said this the countess looked round at her daughter. +Natasha was lying looking steadily straight before her at one of the +mahogany sphinxes carved on the corners of the bedstead, so that the +countess only saw her daughter's face in profile. That face struck her +by its peculiarly serious and concentrated expression. + +Natasha was listening and considering. + +"Well, what then?" said she. + +"You have quite turned his head, and why? What do you want of him? +You know you can't marry him." + +"Why not?" said Natasha, without changing her position. + +"Because he is young, because he is poor, because he is a +relation... and because you yourself don't love him." + +"How do you know?" + +"I know. It is not right, darling!" + +"But if I want to..." said Natasha. + +"Leave off talking nonsense," said the countess. + +"But if I want to..." + +"Natasha, I am in earnest..." + +Natasha did not let her finish. She drew the countess' large hand to +her, kissed it on the back and then on the palm, then again turned +it over and began kissing first one knuckle, then the space between +the knuckles, then the next knuckle, whispering, "January, February, +March, April, May. Speak, Mamma, why don't you say anything? Speak!" +said she, turning to her mother, who was tenderly gazing at her +daughter and in that contemplation seemed to have forgotten all she +had wished to say. + +"It won't do, my love! Not everyone will understand this +friendship dating from your childish days, and to see him so +intimate with you may injure you in the eyes of other young men who +visit us, and above all it torments him for nothing. He may already +have found a suitable and wealthy match, and now he's half crazy." + +"Crazy?" repeated Natasha. + +"I'll tell you some things about myself. I had a cousin..." + +"I know! Cyril Matveich... but he is old." + +"He was not always old. But this is what I'll do, Natasha, I'll have +a talk with Boris. He need not come so often...." + +"Why not, if he likes to?" + +"Because I know it will end in nothing...." + +"How can you know? No, Mamma, don't speak to him! What nonsense!" +said Natasha in the tone of one being deprived of her property. "Well, +I won't marry, but let him come if he enjoys it and I enjoy it." +Natasha smiled and looked at her mother. "Not to marry, but just +so," she added. + +"How so, my pet?" + +"Just so. There's no need for me to marry him. But... just so." + +"Just so, just so," repeated the countess, and shaking all over, she +went off into a good humored, unexpected, elderly laugh. + +"Don't laugh, stop!" cried Natasha. "You're shaking the whole bed! +You're awfully like me, just such another giggler.... Wait..." and she +seized the countess' hands and kissed a knuckle of the little +finger, saying, "June," and continued, kissing, "July, August," on the +other hand. "But, Mamma, is he very much in love? What do you think? +Was anybody ever so much in love with you? And he's very nice, very, +very nice. Only not quite my taste- he is so narrow, like the +dining-room clock.... Don't you understand? Narrow, you know- gray, +light gray..." + +"What rubbish you're talking!" said the countess. + +Natasha continued: "Don't you really understand? Nicholas would +understand.... Bezukhov, now, is blue, dark-blue and red, and he is +square." + +"You flirt with him too," said the countess, laughing. + +"No, he is a Freemason, I have found out. He is fine, dark-blue +and red.... How can I explain it to you?" + +"Little countess!" the count's voice called from behind the door. +"You're not asleep?" Natasha jumped up, snatched up her slippers, +and ran barefoot to her own room. + +It was a long time before she could sleep. She kept thinking that no +one could understand all that she understood and all there was in her. + +"Sonya?" she thought, glancing at that curled-up, sleeping little +kitten with her enormous plait of hair. "No, how could she? She's +virtuous. She fell in love with Nicholas and does not wish to know +anything more. Even Mamma does not understand. It is wonderful how +clever I am and how... charming she is," she went on, speaking of +herself in the third person, and imagining it was some very wise +man- the wisest and best of men- who was saying it of her. "There is +everything, everything in her," continued this man. "She is +unusually intelligent, charming... and then she is pretty, +uncommonly pretty, and agile- she swims and rides splendidly... and +her voice! One can really say it's a wonderful voice!" + +She hummed a scrap from her favorite opera by Cherubini, threw +herself on her bed, laughed at the pleasant thought that she would +immediately fall asleep, called Dunyasha the maid to put out the +candle, and before Dunyasha had left the room had already passed +into yet another happier world of dreams, where everything was as +light and beautiful as in reality, and even more so because it was +different. + +Next day the countess called Boris aside and had a talk with him, +after which he ceased coming to the Rostovs'. + +CHAPTER XIV + +On the thirty-first of December, New Year's Eve, 1809 - 10 an old +grandee of Catherine's day was giving a ball and midnight supper. +The diplomatic corps and the Emperor himself were to be present. + +The grandee's well-known mansion on the English Quay glittered +with innumerable lights. Police were stationed at the brightly lit +entrance which was carpeted with red baize, and not only gendarmes but +dozens of police officers and even the police master himself stood +at the porch. Carriages kept driving away and fresh ones arriving, +with red-liveried footmen and footmen in plumed hats. From the +carriages emerged men wearing uniforms, stars, and ribbons, while +ladies in satin and ermine cautiously descended the carriage steps +which were let down for them with a clatter, and then walked hurriedly +and noiselessly over the baize at the entrance. + +Almost every time a new carriage drove up a whisper ran through +the crowd and caps were doffed. + +"The Emperor?... No, a minister.... prince... ambassador. Don't +you see the plumes?..." was whispered among the crowd. + +One person, better dressed than the rest, seemed to know everyone +and mentioned by name the greatest dignitaries of the day. + +A third of the visitors had already arrived, but the Rostovs, who +were to be present, were still hurrying to get dressed. + +There had been many discussions and preparations for this ball in +the Rostov family, many fears that the invitation would not arrive, +that the dresses would not be ready, or that something would not be +arranged as it should be. + +Marya Ignatevna Peronskaya, a thin and shallow maid of honor at +the court of the Dowager Empress, who was a friend and relation of the +countess and piloted the provincial Rostovs in Petersburg high +society, was to accompany them to the ball. + +They were to call for her at her house in the Taurida Gardens at ten +o'clock, but it was already five minutes to ten, and the girls were +not yet dressed. + +Natasha was going to her first grand ball. She had got up at eight +that morning and had been in a fever of excitement and activity all +day. All her powers since morning had been concentrated on ensuring +that they all- she herself, Mamma, and Sonya- should be as well +dressed as possible. Sonya and her mother put themselves entirely in +her hands. The countess was to wear a claret-colored velvet dress, and +the two girls white gauze over pink silk slips, with roses on their +bodices and their hair dressed a la grecque. + +Everything essential had already been done; feet, hands, necks, +and ears washed, perfumed, and powdered, as befits a ball; the +openwork silk stockings and white satin shoes with ribbons were +already on; the hairdressing was almost done. Sonya was finishing +dressing and so was the countess, but Natasha, who had bustled about +helping them all, was behindhand. She was still sitting before a +looking-glass with a dressing jacket thrown over her slender +shoulders. Sonya stood ready dressed in the middle of the room and, +pressing the head of a pin till it hurt her dainty finger, was +fixing on a last ribbon that squeaked as the pin went through it. + +"That's not the way, that's not the way, Sonya!" cried Natasha +turning her head and clutching with both hands at her hair which the +maid who was dressing it had not time to release. "That bow is not +right. Come here!" + +Sonya sat down and Natasha pinned the ribbon on differently. + +"Allow me, Miss! I can't do it like that," said the maid who was +holding Natasha's hair. + +"Oh, dear! Well then, wait. That's right, Sonya." + +"Aren't you ready? It is nearly ten," came the countess' voice. + +"Directly! Directly! And you, Mamma?" + +"I have only my cap to pin on." + +"Don't do it without me!" called Natasha. "You won't do it right." + +"But it's already ten." + +They had decided to be at the ball by half past ten, and Natasha had +still to get dressed and they had to call at the Taurida Gardens. + +When her hair was done, Natasha, in her short petticoat from under +which her dancing shoes showed, and in her mother's dressing jacket, +ran up to Sonya, scrutinized her, and then ran to her mother. +Turning her mother's head this way and that, she fastened on the cap +and, hurriedly kissing her gray hair, ran back to the maids who were +turning up the hem of her skirt. + +The cause of the delay was Natasha's skirt, which was too long. +Two maids were turning up the hem and hurriedly biting off the ends of +thread. A third with pins in her mouth was running about between the +countess and Sonya, and a fourth held the whole of the gossamer +garment up high on one uplifted hand. + +"Mavra, quicker, darling!" + +"Give me my thimble, Miss, from there..." + +"Whenever will you be ready?" asked the count coming to the door. +"Here is here is some scent. Peronskaya must be tired of waiting." + +"It's ready, Miss," said the maid, holding up the shortened gauze +dress with two fingers, and blowing and shaking something off it, as +if by this to express a consciousness of the airiness and purity of +what she held. + +Natasha began putting on the dress. + +"In a minute! In a minute! Don't come in, Papa!" she cried to her +father as he opened the door- speaking from under the filmy skirt +which still covered her whole face. + +Sonya slammed the door to. A minute later they let the count in. +He was wearing a blue swallow-tail coat, shoes and stockings, and +was perfumed and his hair pomaded. + +"Oh, Papa! how nice you look! Charming!" cried Natasha, as she stood +in the middle of the room smoothing out the folds of the gauze. + +"If you please, Miss! allow me," said the maid, who on her knees was +pulling the skirt straight and shifting the pins from one side of +her mouth to the other with her tongue. + +"Say what you like," exclaimed Sonya, in a despairing voice as she +looked at Natasha, "say what you like, it's still too long." + +Natasha stepped back to look at herself in the pier glass. The dress +was too long. + +"Really, madam, it is not at all too long," said Mavra, crawling +on her knees after her young lady. + +"Well, if it's too long we'll take it up... we'll tack it up in +one minute," said the resolute Dunyasha taking a needle that was stuck +on the front of her little shawl and, still kneeling on the floor, set +to work once more. + +At that moment, with soft steps, the countess came in shyly, in +her cap and velvet gown. + +"Oo-oo, my beauty!" exclaimed the count, "she looks better than +any of you!" + +He would have embraced her but, blushing, she stepped aside +fearing to be rumpled. + +"Mamma, your cap, more to this side," said Natasha. "I'll arrange +it," and she rushed forward so that the maids who were tacking up +her skirt could not move fast enough and a piece of gauze was torn +off. + +"Oh goodness! What has happened? Really it was not my fault!" + +"Never mind, I'll run it up, it won't show," said Dunyasha. + +"What a beauty- a very queen!" said the nurse as she came to the +door. "And Sonya! They are lovely!" + +At a quarter past ten they at last got into their carriages and +started. But they had still to call at the Taurida Gardens. + +Peronskaya was quite ready. In spite of her age and plainness she +had gone through the same process as the Rostovs, but with less +flurry- for to her it was a matter of routine. Her ugly old body was +washed, perfumed, and powdered in just the same way. She had washed +behind her ears just as carefully, and when she entered her drawing +room in her yellow dress, wearing her badge as maid of honor, her +old lady's maid was as full of rapturous admiration as the Rostovs' +servants had been. + +She praised the Rostovs' toilets. They praised her taste and toilet, +and at eleven o'clock, careful of their coiffures and dresses, they +settled themselves in their carriages and drove off. + +CHAPTER XV + +Natasha had not had a moment free since early morning and had not +once had time to think of what lay before her. + +In the damp chill air and crowded closeness of the swaying carriage, +she for the first time vividly imagined what was in store for her +there at the ball, in those brightly lighted rooms- with music, +flowers, dances, the Emperor, and all the brilliant young people of +Petersburg. The prospect was so splendid that she hardly believed it +would come true, so out of keeping was it with the chill darkness +and closeness of the carriage. She understood all that awaited her +only when, after stepping over the red baize at the entrance, she +entered the hall, took off her fur cloak, and, beside Sonya and in +front of her mother, mounted the brightly illuminated stairs between +the flowers. Only then did she remember how she must behave at a ball, +and tried to assume the majestic air she considered indispensable +for a girl on such an occasion. But, fortunately for her, she felt her +eyes growing misty, she saw nothing clearly, her pulse beat a +hundred to the minute, and the blood throbbed at her heart. She +could not assume that pose, which would have made her ridiculous, +and she moved on almost fainting from excitement and trying with all +her might to conceal it. And this was the very attitude that became +her best. Before and behind them other visitors were entering, also +talking in low tones and wearing ball dresses. The mirrors on the +landing reflected ladies in white, pale-blue, and pink dresses, with +diamonds and pearls on their bare necks and arms. + +Natasha looked in the mirrors and could not distinguish her +reflection from the others. All was blended into one brilliant +procession. On entering the ballroom the regular hum of voices, +footsteps, and greetings deafened Natasha, and the light and glitter +dazzled her still more. The host and hostess, who had already been +standing at the door for half an hour repeating the same words to +the various arrivals, "Charme de vous voir,"~^ greeted the Rostovs +and Peronskaya in the same manner. + +^~ "Delighted to see you." + +The two girls in their white dresses, each with a rose in her +black hair, both curtsied in the same way, but the hostess' eye +involuntarily rested longer on the slim Natasha. She looked at her and +gave her alone a special smile in addition to her usual smile as +hostess. Looking at her she may have recalled the golden, +irrecoverable days of her own girlhood and her own first ball. The +host also followed Natasha with his eyes and asked the count which was +his daughter. + +"Charming!" said he, kissing the tips of his fingers. + +In the ballroom guests stood crowding at the entrance doors awaiting +the Emperor. The countess took up a position in one of the front +rows of that crowd. Natasha heard and felt that several people were +asking about her and looking at her. She realized that those +noticing her liked her, and this observation helped to calm her. + +"There are some like ourselves and some worse," she thought. + +Peronskaya was pointing out to the countess the most important +people at the ball. + +"That is the Dutch ambassador, do you see? That gray-haired man," +she said, indicating an old man with a profusion of silver-gray +curly hair, who was surrounded by ladies laughing at something he +said. + +"Ah, here she is, the Queen of Petersburg, Countess Bezukhova," said +Peronskaya, indicating Helene who had just entered. "How lovely! She +is quite equal to Marya Antonovna. See how the men, young and old, pay +court to her. Beautiful and clever... they say Prince- is quite mad +about her. But see, those two, though not good-looking, are even +more run after." + +She pointed to a lady who was crossing the room followed by a very +plain daughter. + +"She is a splendid match, a millionairess," said Peronskaya. "And +look, here come her suitors." + +"That is Bezukhova's brother, Anatole Kuragin," she said, indicating +a handsome officer of the Horse Guards who passed by them with head +erect, looking at something over the heads of the ladies. "He's +handsome, isn't he? I hear they will marry him to that rich girl. +But your cousin, Drubetskoy, is also very attentive to her. They say +she has millions. Oh yes, that's the French ambassador himself!" she +replied to the countess' inquiry about Caulaincourt. "Looks as if he +were a king! All the same, the French are charming, very charming. +No one more charming in society. Ah, here she is! Yes, she is still +the most beautiful of them all, our Marya Antonovna! And how simply +she is dressed! Lovely! And that stout one in spectacles is the +universal Freemason," she went on, indicating Pierre. "Put him +beside his wife and he looks a regular buffoon!" + +Pierre, swaying his stout body, advanced, making way through the +crowd and nodding to right and left as casually and good-naturedly +as if he were passing through a crowd at a fair. He pushed through, +evidently looking for someone. + +Natasha looked joyfully at the familiar face of Pierre, "the +buffoon," as Peronskaya had called him, and knew he was looking for +them, and for her in particular. He had promised to be at the ball and +introduce partners to her. + +But before he reached them Pierre stopped beside a very handsome, +dark man of middle height, and in a white uniform, who stood by a +window talking to a tall man wearing stars and a ribbon. Natasha at +once recognized the shorter and younger man in the white uniform: it +was Bolkonski, who seemed to her to have grown much younger, +happier, and better-looking. + +"There's someone else we know- Bolkonski, do you see, Mamma?" said +Natasha, pointing out Prince Andrew. "You remember, he stayed a +night with us at Otradnoe." + +"Oh, you know him?" said Peronskaya. "I can't bear him. Il fait a +present la pluie et le beau temps."~^ He's too proud for anything. +Takes after his father. And he's hand in glove with Speranski, writing +some project or other. Just look how he treats the ladies! There's one +talking to him and he has turned away," she said, pointing at him. +"I'd give it to him if he treated me as he does those ladies." + +^~ "He is all the rage just now. + +CHAPTER XVI + +Suddenly everybody stirred, began talking, and pressed forward and +then back, and between the two rows, which separated, the Emperor +entered to the sounds of music that had immediately struck up. +Behind him walked his host and hostess. He walked in rapidly, bowing +to right and left as if anxious to get the first moments of the +reception over. The band played the polonaise in vogue at that time on +account of the words that had been set to it, beginning: "Alexander, +Elisaveta, all our hearts you ravish quite..." The Emperor passed on +to the drawing room, the crowd made a rush for the doors, and +several persons with excited faces hurried there and back again. +Then the crowd hastily retired from the drawing-room door, at which +the Emperor reappeared talking to the hostess. A young man, looking +distraught, pounced down on the ladies, asking them to move aside. +Some ladies, with faces betraying complete forgetfulness of all the +rules of decorum, pushed forward to the detriment of their toilets. +The men began to choose partners and take their places for the +polonaise. + +Everyone moved back, and the Emperor came smiling out of the drawing +room leading his hostess by the hand but not keeping time to the +music. The host followed with Marya Antonovna Naryshkina; then came +ambassadors, ministers, and various generals, whom Peronskaya +diligently named. More than half the ladies already had partners and +were taking up, or preparing to take up, their positions for the +polonaise. Natasha felt that she would be left with her mother and +Sonya among a minority of women who crowded near the wall, not +having been invited to dance. She stood with her slender arms +hanging down, her scarcely defined bosom rising and falling regularly, +and with bated breath and glittering, frightened eyes gazed straight +before her, evidently prepared for the height of joy or misery. She +was not concerned about the Emperor or any of those great people +whom Peronskaya was pointing out- she had but one thought: "Is it +possible no one will ask me, that I shall not be among the first to +dance? Is it possible that not one of all these men will notice me? +They do not even seem to see me, or if they do they look as if they +were saying, 'Ah, she's not the one I'm after, so it's not worth +looking at her!' No, it's impossible," she thought. "They must know +how I long to dance, how splendidly I dance, and how they would +enjoy dancing with me." + +The strains of the polonaise, which had continued for a considerable +time, had begun to sound like a sad reminiscence to Natasha's ears. +She wanted to cry. Peronskaya had left them. The count was at the +other end of the room. She and the countess and Sonya were standing by +themselves as in the depths of a forest amid that crowd of +strangers, with no one interested in them and not wanted by anyone. +Prince Andrew with a lady passed by, evidently not recognizing them. +The handsome Anatole was smilingly talking to a partner on his arm and +looked at Natasha as one looks at a wall. Boris passed them twice +and each time turned away. Berg and his wife, who were not dancing, +came up to them. + +This family gathering seemed humiliating to Natasha- as if there +were nowhere else for the family to talk but here at the ball. She did +not listen to or look at Vera, who was telling her something about her +own green dress. + +At last the Emperor stopped beside his last partner (he had danced +with three) and the music ceased. A worried aide-de-camp ran up to the +Rostovs requesting them to stand farther back, though as it was they +were already close to the wall, and from the gallery resounded the +distinct, precise, enticingly rhythmical strains of a waltz. The +Emperor looked smilingly down the room. A minute passed but no one had +yet begun dancing. An aide-de-camp, the Master of Ceremonies, went +up to Countess Bezukhova and asked her to dance. She smilingly +raised her hand and laid it on his shoulder without looking at him. +The aide-de-camp, an adept in his art, grasping his partner firmly +round her waist, with confident deliberation started smoothly, gliding +first round the edge of the circle, then at the corner of the room +he caught Helene's left hand and turned her, the only sound audible, +apart from the ever-quickening music, being the rhythmic click of +the spurs on his rapid, agile feet, while at every third beat his +partner's velvet dress spread out and seemed to flash as she whirled +round. Natasha gazed at them and was ready to cry because it was not +she who was dancing that first turn of the waltz. + +Prince Andrew, in the white uniform of a cavalry colonel, wearing +stockings and dancing shoes, stood looking animated and bright in +the front row of the circle not far from the Rostovs. Baron Firhoff +was talking to him about the first sitting of the Council of State +to be held next day. Prince Andrew, as one closely connected with +Speranski and participating in the work of the legislative commission, +could give reliable information about that sitting, concerning which +various rumors were current. But not listening to what Firhoff was +saying, he was gazing now at the sovereign and now at the men +intending to dance who had not yet gathered courage to enter the +circle. + +Prince Andrew was watching these men abashed by the Emperor's +presence, and the women who were breathlessly longing to be asked to +dance. + +Pierre came up to him and caught him by the arm. + +"You always dance. I have a protegee, the young Rostova, here. Ask +her," he said. + +"Where is she?" asked Bolkonski. "Excuse me!" he added, turning to +the baron, "we will finish this conversation elsewhere- at a ball +one must dance." He stepped forward in the direction Pierre indicated. +The despairing, dejected expression of Natasha's face caught his +eye. He recognized her, guessed her feelings, saw that it was her +debut, remembered her conversation at the window, and with an +expression of pleasure on his face approached Countess Rostova. + +"Allow me to introduce you to my daughter," said the countess, +with heightened color. + +"I have the pleasure of being already acquainted, if the countess +remembers me," said Prince Andrew with a low and courteous bow quite +belying Peronskaya's remarks about his rudeness, and approaching +Natasha he held out his arm to grasp her waist before he had completed +his invitation. He asked her to waltz. That tremulous expression on +Natasha's face, prepared either for despair or rapture, suddenly +brightened into a happy, grateful, childlike smile. + +"I have long been waiting for you," that frightened happy little +girl seemed to say by the smile that replaced the threatened tears, as +she raised her hand to Prince Andrew's shoulder. They were the +second couple to enter the circle. Prince Andrew was one of the best +dancers of his day and Natasha danced exquisitely. Her little feet +in their white satin dancing shoes did their work swiftly, lightly, +and independently of herself, while her face beamed with ecstatic +happiness. Her slender bare arms and neck were not beautiful- compared +to Helene's her shoulders looked thin and her bosom undeveloped. But +Helene seemed, as it were, hardened by a varnish left by the thousands +of looks that had scanned her person, while Natasha was like a girl +exposed for the first time, who would have felt very much ashamed +had she not been assured that this was absolutely necessary. + +Prince Andrew liked dancing, and wishing to escape as quickly as +possible from the political and clever talk which everyone addressed +to him, wishing also to break up the circle of restraint he +disliked, caused by the Emperor's presence, he danced, and had +chosen Natasha because Pierre pointed her out to him and because she +was the first pretty girl who caught his eye; but scarcely had he +embraced that slender supple figure and felt her stirring so close +to him and smiling so near him than the wine of her charm rose to +his head, and he felt himself revived and rejuvenated when after +leaving her he stood breathing deeply and watching the other dancers. + +CHAPTER XVII + +After Prince Andrew, Boris came up to ask Natasha for dance, and +then the aide-de-camp who had opened the ball, and several other young +men, so that, flushed and happy, and passing on her superfluous +partners to Sonya, she did not cease dancing all the evening. She +noticed and saw nothing of what occupied everyone else. Not only did +she fail to notice that the Emperor talked a long time with the French +ambassador, and how particularly gracious he was to a certain lady, or +that Prince So-and-so and So-and-so did and said this and that, and +that Helene had great success and was honored was by the special +attention of So-and-so, but she did not even see the Emperor, and only +noticed that he had gone because the ball became livelier after his +departure. For one of the merry cotillions before supper Prince Andrew +was again her partner. He reminded her of their first encounter in the +Otradnoe avenue, and how she had been unable to sleep that moonlight +night, and told her how he had involuntarily overheard her. Natasha +blushed at that recollection and tried to excuse herself, as if +there had been something to be ashamed of in what Prince Andrew had +overheard. + +Like all men who have grown up in society, Prince Andrew liked +meeting someone there not of the conventional society stamp. And +such was Natasha, with her surprise, her delight, her shyness, and +even her mistakes in speaking French. With her he behaved with special +care and tenderness, sitting beside her and talking of the simplest +and most unimportant matters; he admired her shy grace. In the +middle of the cotillion, having completed one of the figures, Natasha, +still out of breath, was returning to her seat when another dancer +chose her. She was tired and panting and evidently thought of +declining, but immediately put her hand gaily on the man's shoulder, +smiling at Prince Andrew. + +"I'd be glad to sit beside you and rest: I'm tired; but you see +how they keep asking me, and I'm glad of it, I'm happy and I love +everybody, and you and I understand it all," and much, much more was +said in her smile. When her partner left her Natasha ran across the +room to choose two ladies for the figure. + +"If she goes to her cousin first and then to another lady, she +will be my wife," said Prince Andrew to himself quite to his own +surprise, as he watched her. She did go first to her cousin. + +"What rubbish sometimes enters one's head!" thought Prince Andrew, +"but what is certain is that that girl is so charming, so original, +that she won't be dancing here a month before she will be +married.... Such as she are rare here," he thought, as Natasha, +readjusting a rose that was slipping on her bodice, settled herself +beside him. + +When the cotillion was over the old count in his blue coat came up +to the dancers. He invited Prince Andrew to come and see them, and +asked his daughter whether she was enjoying herself. Natasha did not +answer at once but only looked up with a smile that said +reproachfully: "How can you ask such a question?" + +"I have never enjoyed myself so much before!" she said, and Prince +Andrew noticed how her thin arms rose quickly as if to embrace her +father and instantly dropped again. Natasha was happier than she had +ever been in her life. She was at that height of bliss when one +becomes completely kind and good and does not believe in the +possibility of evil, unhappiness, or sorrow. + +At that ball Pierre for the first time felt humiliated by the +position his wife occupied in court circles. He was gloomy and +absent-minded. A deep furrow ran across his forehead, and standing +by a window he stared over his spectacles seeing no one. + +On her way to supper Natasha passed him. + +Pierre's gloomy, unhappy look struck her. She stopped in front of +him. She wished to help him, to bestow on him the superabundance of +her own happiness. + +"How delightful it is, Count!" said she. "Isn't it?" + +Pierre smiled absent-mindedly, evidently not grasping what she said. + +"Yes, I am very glad," he said. + +"How can people be dissatisfied with anything?" thought Natasha. +"Especially such a capital fellow as Bezukhov!" In Natasha's eyes +all the people at the ball alike were good, kind, and splendid people, +loving one another; none of them capable of injuring another- and so +they ought all to be happy. + +CHAPTER XVIII + +Next day Prince Andrew thought of the ball, but his mind did not +dwell on it long. "Yes, it was a very brilliant ball," and then... +"Yes, that little Rostova is very charming. There's something fresh, +original, un-Petersburg-like about her that distinguishes her." That +was all he thought about yesterday's ball, and after his morning tea +he set to work. + +But either from fatigue or want of sleep he was ill-disposed for +work and could get nothing done. He kept criticizing his own work, +as he often did, and was glad when he heard someone coming. + +The visitor was Bitski, who served on various committees, frequented +all the societies in Petersburg, and a passionate devotee of the new +ideas and of Speranski, and a diligent Petersburg newsmonger- one of +those men who choose their opinions like their clothes according to +the fashion, but who for that very reason appear to be the warmest +partisans. Hardly had he got rid of his hat before he ran into +Prince Andrew's room with a preoccupied air and at once began talking. +He had just heard particulars of that morning's sitting of the Council +of State opened by the Emperor, and he spoke of it enthusiastically. +The Emperor's speech had been extraordinary. It had been a speech such +as only constitutional monarchs deliver. "The Sovereign plainly said +that the Council and Senate are estates of the realm, he said that the +government must rest not on authority but on secure bases. The Emperor +said that the fiscal system must be reorganized and the accounts +published," recounted Bitski, emphasizing certain words and opening +his eyes significantly. + +"Ah, yes! Today's events mark an epoch, the greatest epoch in our +history," he concluded. + +Prince Andrew listened to the account of the opening of the +Council of State, which he had so impatiently awaited and to which +he had attached such importance, and was surprised that this event, +now that it had taken place, did not affect him, and even seemed quite +insignificant. He listened with quiet irony to Bitski's enthusiastic +account of it. A very simple thought occurred to him: "What does it +matter to me or to Bitski what the Emperor was pleased to say at the +Council? Can all that make me any happier or better?" + +And this simple reflection suddenly destroyed all the interest +Prince Andrew had felt in the impending reforms. He was going to +dine that evening at Speranski's, "with only a few friends," as the +host had said when inviting him. The prospect of that dinner in the +intimate home circle of the man he so admired had greatly interested +Prince Andrew, especially as he had not yet seen Speranski in his +domestic surroundings, but now he felt disinclined to go to it. + +At the appointed hour, however, he entered the modest house +Speranski owned in the Taurida Gardens. In the parqueted dining room +this small house, remarkable for its extreme cleanliness (suggesting +that of a monastery), Prince Andrew, who was rather late, found the +friendly gathering of Speranski's intimate acquaintances already +assembled at five o'clock. There were no ladies present except +Speranski's little daughter (long-faced like her father) and her +governess. The other guests were Gervais, Magnitski, and Stolypin. +While still in the anteroom Prince Andrew heard loud voices and a +ringing staccato laugh- a laugh such as one hears on the stage. +Someone- it sounded like Speranski- was distinctly ejaculating +ha-ha-ha. Prince Andrew had never before heard Speranski's famous +laugh, and this ringing, high pitched laughter from a statesman made a +strange impression on him. + +He entered the dining room. The whole company were standing +between two windows at a small table laid with hors-d'oeuvres. +Speranski, wearing a gray swallow-tail coat with a star on the breast, +and evidently still the same waistcoat and high white stock he had +worn at the meeting of the Council of State, stood at the table with a +beaming countenance. His guests surrounded him. Magnitski, +addressing himself to Speranski, was relating an anecdote, and +Speranski was laughing in advance at what Magnitski was going to +say. When Prince Andrew entered the room Magnitski's words were +again crowned by laughter. Stolypin gave a deep bass guffaw as he +munched a piece of bread and cheese. Gervais laughed softly with a +hissing chuckle, and Speranski in a high-pitched staccato manner. + +Still laughing, Speranski held out his soft white hand to Prince +Andrew. + +"Very pleased to see you, Prince," he said. "One moment..." he +went on, turning to Magnitski and interrupting his story. "We have +agreed that this is a dinner for recreation, with not a word about +business!" and turning again to the narrator he began to laugh afresh. + +Prince Andrew looked at the laughing Speranski with astonishment, +regret, and disillusionment. It seemed to him that this was not +Speranski but someone else. Everything that had formerly appeared + +mysterious and fascinating in Speranski suddenly became plain and +unattractive. + +At dinner the conversation did not cease for a moment and seemed +to consist of the contents of a book of funny anecdotes. Before +Magnitski had finished his story someone else was anxious to relate +something still funnier. Most of the anecdotes, if not relating to the +state service, related to people in the service. It seemed that in +this company the insignificance of those people was so definitely +accepted that the only possible attitude toward them was one of good +humored ridicule. Speranski related how at the Council that morning +a deaf dignitary, when asked his opinion, replied that he thought so +too. Gervais gave a long account of an official revision, remarkable +for the stupidity of everybody concerned. Stolypin, stuttering, +broke into the conversation and began excitedly talking of the +abuses that existed under the former order of things- threatening to +give a serious turn to the conversation. Magnitski starting quizzing +Stolypin about his vehemence. Gervais intervened with a joke, and +the talk reverted to its former lively tone. + +Evidently Speranski liked to rest after his labors and find +amusement in a circle of friends, and his guests, understanding his +wish, tried to enliven him and amuse themselves. But their gaiety +seemed to Prince Andrew mirthless and tiresome. Speranski's +high-pitched voice struck him unpleasantly, and the incessant laughter +grated on him like a false note. Prince Andrew did not laugh and +feared that he would be a damper on the spirits of the company, but no +one took any notice of his being out of harmony with the general mood. +They all seemed very gay. + +He tried several times to join in the conversation, but his +remarks were tossed aside each time like a cork thrown out of the +water, and he could not jest with them. + +There was nothing wrong or unseemly in what they said, it was +witty and might have been funny, but it lacked just that something +which is the salt of mirth, and they were not even aware that such a +thing existed. + +After dinner Speranski's daughter and her governess rose. He +patted the little girl with his white hand and kissed her. And that +gesture, too, seemed unnatural to Prince Andrew. + +The men remained at table over their port- English fashion. In the +midst of a conversation that was started about Napoleon's Spanish +affairs, which they all agreed in approving, Prince Andrew began to +express a contrary opinion. Speranski smiled and, with an evident wish +to prevent the conversation from taking an unpleasant course, told a +story that had no connection with the previous conversation. For a few +moments all were silent. + +Having sat some time at table, Speranski corked a bottle of wine +and, remarking, "Nowadays good wine rides in a carriage and pair," +passed it to the servant and got up. All rose and continuing to talk +loudly went into the drawing room. Two letters brought by a courier +were handed to Speranski and he took them to his study. As soon as +he had left the room the general merriment stopped and the guests +began to converse sensibly and quietly with one another. + +"Now for the recitation!" said Speranski on returning from his +study. "A wonderful talent!" he said to Prince Andrew, and Magnitski +immediately assumed a pose and began reciting some humorous verses +in French which he had composed about various well-known Petersburg +people. He was interrupted several times by applause. When the +verses were finished Prince Andrew went up to Speranski and took his +leave. + +"Where are you off to so early?" asked Speranski. + +"I promised to go to a reception." + +They said no more. Prince Andrew looked closely into those +mirrorlike, impenetrable eyes, and felt that it had been ridiculous of +him to have expected anything from Speranski and from any of his own +activities connected with him, or ever to have attributed importance +to what Speranski was doing. That precise, mirthless laughter rang +in Prince Andrew's ears long after he had left the house. + +When he reached home Prince Andrew began thinking of his life in +Petersburg during those last four months as if it were something +new. He recalled his exertions and solicitations, and the history of +his project of army reform, which had been accepted for +consideration and which they were trying to pass over in silence +simply because another, a very poor one, had already been prepared and +submitted to the Emperor. He thought of the meetings of a committee of +which Berg was a member. He remembered how carefully and at what +length everything relating to form and procedure was discussed at +those meetings, and how sedulously and promptly all that related to +the gist of the business was evaded. He recalled his labors on the +Legal Code, and how painstakingly he had translated the articles of +the Roman and French codes into Russian, and he felt ashamed of +himself. Then he vividly pictured to himself Bogucharovo, his +occupations in the country, his journey to Ryazan; he remembered the +peasants and Dron the village elder, and mentally applying to them the +Personal Rights he had divided into paragraphs, he felt astonished +that he could have spent so much time on such useless work. + +CHAPTER XIX + +Next day Prince Andrew called at a few houses he had not visited +before, and among them at the Rostovs' with whom he had renewed +acquaintance at the ball. Apart from considerations of politeness +which demanded the call, he wanted to see that original, eager girl +who had left such a pleasant impression on his mind, in her own home. + +Natasha was one of the first to meet him. She was wearing a +dark-blue house dress in which Prince Andrew thought her even prettier +than in her ball dress. She and all the Rostov family welcomed him +as an old friend, simply and cordially. The whole family, whom he +had formerly judged severely, now seemed to him to consist of +excellent, simple, and kindly people. The old count's hospitality +and good nature, which struck one especially in Petersburg as a +pleasant surprise, were such that Prince Andrew could not refuse to +stay to dinner. "Yes," he thought, "they are capital people, who of +course have not the slightest idea what a treasure they possess in +Natasha; but they are kindly folk and form the best possible setting +for this strikingly poetic, charming girl, overflowing with life!" + +In Natasha Prince Andrew was conscious of a strange world completely +alien to him and brimful of joys unknown to him, a different world, +that in the Otradnoe avenue and at the window that moonlight night had +already begun to disconcert him. Now this world disconcerted him no +longer and was no longer alien to him, but he himself having entered +it found in it a new enjoyment. + +After dinner Natasha, at Prince Andrew's request, went to the +clavichord and began singing. Prince Andrew stood by a window +talking to the ladies and listened to her. In the midst of a phrase he +ceased speaking and suddenly felt tears choking him, a thing he had +thought impossible for him. He looked at Natasha as she sang, and +something new and joyful stirred in his soul. He felt happy and at the +same time sad. He had absolutely nothing to weep about yet he was +ready to weep. What about? His former love? The little princess? His +disillusionments?... His hopes for the future?... Yes and no. The +chief reason was a sudden, vivid sense of the terrible contrast +between something infinitely great and illimitable within him and that +limited and material something that he, and even she, was. This +contrast weighed on and yet cheered him while she sang. + +As soon as Natasha had finished she went up to him and asked how +he liked her voice. She asked this and then became confused, feeling +that she ought not to have asked it. He smiled, looking at her, and +said he liked her singing as he liked everything she did. + +Prince Andrew left the Rostovs' late in the evening. He went to +bed from habit, but soon realized that he could not sleep. Having +lit his candle he sat up in bed, then got up, then lay down again +not at all troubled by his sleeplessness: his soul was as fresh and +joyful as if he had stepped out of a stuffy room into God's own +fresh air. It did not enter his head that he was in love with Natasha; +he was not thinking about her, but only picturing her to himself, +and in consequence all life appeared in a new light. "Why do I strive, +why do I toil in this narrow, confined frame, when life, all life with +all its joys, is open to me?" said he to himself. And for the first +time for a very long while he began making happy plans for the future. +He decided that he must attend to his son's education by finding a +tutor and putting the boy in his charge, then he ought to retire +from the service and go abroad, and see England, Switzerland and +Italy. "I must use my freedom while I feel so much strength and +youth in me," he said to himself. "Pierre was right when he said one +must believe in the possibility of happiness in order to be happy, and +now I do believe in it. Let the dead bury their dead, but while one +has life one must live and be happy!" thought he. + +CHAPTER XX + +One morning Colonel Berg, whom Pierre knew as he knew everybody in +Moscow and Petersburg, came to see him. Berg arrived in an +immaculate brand-new uniform, with his hair pomaded and brushed +forward over his temples as the Emperor Alexander wore his hair. + +"I have just been to see the countess, your wife. Unfortunately +she could not grant my request, but I hope, Count, I shall be more +fortunate with you," he said with a smile. + +"What is it you wish, Colonel? I am at your service." + +"I have now quite settled in my new rooms, Count" (Berg said this +with perfect conviction that this information could not but be +agreeable), "and so I wish to arrange just a small party for my own +and my wife's friends." (He smiled still more pleasantly.) "I wished +to ask the countess and you to do me the honor of coming to tea and to +supper." + +Only Countess Helene, considering the society of such people as +the Bergs beneath her, could be cruel enough to refuse such an +invitation. Berg explained so clearly why he wanted to collect at +his house a small but select company, and why this would give him +pleasure, and why though he grudged spending money on cards or +anything harmful, he was prepared to run into some expense for the +sake of good society- that Pierre could not refuse, and promised to +come. + +"But don't be late, Count, if I may venture to ask; about ten +minutes to eight, please. We shall make up a rubber. Our general is +coming. He is very good to me. We shall have supper, Count. So you +will do me the favor." + +Contrary to his habit of being late, Pierre on that day arrived at +the Bergs' house, not at ten but at fifteen minutes to eight. + +Having prepared everything necessary for the party, the Bergs were +really for their guests' arrival. + +In their new, clean, and light study with its small busts and +pictures and new furniture sat Berg and his wife. Berg, closely +buttoned up in his new uniform, sat beside his wife explaining to +her that one always could and should be acquainted with people above +one, because only then does one get satisfaction from acquaintances. + +"You can get to know something, you can ask for something. See how I +managed from my first promotion." (Berg measured his life not by years +but by promotions.) "My comrades are still nobodies, while I am only +waiting for a vacancy to command a regiment, and have the happiness to +be your husband." (He rose and kissed Vera's hand, and on the way to +her straightened out a turned-up corner of the carpet.) "And how +have I obtained all this? Chiefly by knowing how to choose my +aquaintances. It goes without saying that one must be conscientious +and methodical." + +Berg smiled with a sense of his superiority over a weak woman, and +paused, reflecting that this dear wife of his was after all but a weak +woman who could not understand all that constitutes a man's dignity, +what it was ein Mann zu sein.~^ Vera at the same time smiling with a +sense of superiority over her good, conscientious husband, who all the +same understood life wrongly, as according to Vera all men did. +Berg, judging by his wife, thought all women weak and foolish. Vera, +judging only by her husband and generalizing from that observation, +supposed that all men, though they understand nothing and are +conceited and selfish, ascribe common sense to themselves alone. + +^~ To be a man. + +Berg rose and embraced his wife carefully, so as not to crush her +lace fichu for which he had paid a good price, kissing her straight on +the lips. + +"The only thing is, we mustn't have children too soon," he +continued, following an unconscious sequence of ideas. + +"Yes," answered Vera, "I don't at all want that. We must live for +society." + +"Princess Yusupova wore one exactly like this," said Berg, +pointing to the fichu with a happy and kindly smile. + +Just then Count Bezukhov was announced. Husband and wife glanced +at one another, both smiling with self-satisfaction, and each mentally +claiming the honor of this visit. + +"This is what what comes of knowing how to make acquaintances," +thought Berg. "This is what comes of knowing how to conduct oneself." + +"But please don't interrupt me when I am entertaining the guests," +said Vera, "because I know what interests each of them and what to say +to different people." + +Berg smiled again. + +"It can't be helped: men must sometimes have masculine +conversation," said he. + +They received Pierre in their small, new drawing-room, where it +was impossible to sit down anywhere without disturbing its symmetry, +neatness, and order; so it was quite comprehensible and not strange +that Berg, having generously offered to disturb the symmetry of an +armchair or of the sofa for his dear guest, but being apparently +painfully undecided on the matter himself, eventually left the visitor +to settle the question of selection. Pierre disturbed the symmetry +by moving a chair for himself, and Berg and Vera immediately began +their evening party, interrupting each other in their efforts to +entertain their guest. + +Vera, having decided in her own mind that Pierre ought to be +entertained with conversation about the French embassy, at once +began accordingly. Berg, having decided that masculine conversation +was required, interrupted his wife's remarks and touched on the +question of the war with Austria, and unconsciously jumped from the +general subject to personal considerations as to the proposals made +him to take part in the Austrian campaign and the reasons why he had +declined them. Though the conversation was very incoherent and Vera +was angry at the intrusion of the masculine element, both husband +and wife felt with satisfaction that, even if only one guest was +present, their evening had begun very well and was as like as two peas +to every other evening party with its talk, tea, and lighted candles. + +Before long Boris, Berg's old comrade, arrived. There was a shade of +condescension and patronage in his treatment of Berg and Vera. After +Boris came a lady with the colonel, then the general himself, then the +Rostovs, and the party became unquestionably exactly like all other +evening parties. Berg and Vera could not repress their smiles of +satisfaction at the sight of all this movement in their drawing +room, at the sound of the disconnected talk, the rustling of +dresses, and the bowing and scraping. Everything was just as everybody +always has it, especially so the general, who admired the apartment, +patted Berg on the shoulder, and with parental authority superintended +the setting out of the table for boston. The general sat down by Count +Ilya Rostov, who was next to himself the most important guest. The old +people sat with the old, the young with the young, and the hostess +at the tea table, on which stood exactly the same kind of cakes in a +silver cake basket as the Panins had at their party. Everything was +just as it was everywhere else. + +CHAPTER XXI + +Pierre, as one of the principal guests, had to sit down to boston +with Count Rostov, the general, and the colonel. At the card table +he happened to be directly facing Natasha, and was struck by a curious +change that had come over her since the ball, She was silent, and +not only less pretty than at the ball, but only redeemed from +plainness by her look of gentle indifference to everything around. + +"What's the matter with her?" thought Pierre, glancing at her. She +was sitting by her sister at the tea table, and reluctantly, without +looking at him, made some reply to Boris who sat down beside her. +After playing out a whole suit and to his partner's delight taking +five tricks, Pierre, hearing greetings and the steps of someone who +had entered the room while he was picking up his tricks, glanced again +at Natasha. + +"What has happened to her?" he asked himself with still greater +surprise. + +Prince Andrew was standing before her, saying something to her +with a look of tender solicitude. She, having raised her head, was +looking up at him, flushed and evidently trying to master her rapid +breathing. And the bright glow of some inner fire that had been +suppressed was again alight in her. She was completely transformed and +from a plain girl had again become what she had been at the ball. + +Prince Andrew went up to Pierre, and the latter noticed a new and +youthful expression in his friend's face. + +Pierre changed places several times during the game, sitting now +with his back to Natasha and now facing her, but during the whole of +the six rubbers he watched her and his friend. + +"Something very important is happening between them," thought +Pierre, and a feeling that was both joyful and painful agitated him +and made him neglect the game. + +After six rubbers the general got up, saying that it was no use +playing like that, and Pierre was released. Natasha on one side was +talking with Sonya and Boris, and Vera with a subtle smile was +saying something to Prince Andrew. Pierre went up to his friend and, +asking whether they were talking secrets, sat down beside them. +Vera, having noticed Prince Andrew's attentions to Natasha, decided +that at a party, a real evening party, subtle allusions to the +tender passion were absolutely necessary and, seizing a moment when +Prince Andrew was alone, began a conversation with him about +feelings in general and about her sister. With so intellectual a guest +as she considered Prince Andrew to be, she felt that she had to employ +her diplomatic tact. + +When Pierre went up to them he noticed that Vera was being carried +away by her self-satisfied talk, but that Prince Andrew seemed +embarrassed, a thing that rarely happened with him. + +"What do you think?" Vera was saying with an arch smile. "You are so +discerning, Prince, and understand people's characters so well at a +glance. What do you think of Natalie? Could she be constant in her +attachments? Could she, like other women" (Vera meant herself), +"love a man once for all and remain true to him forever? That is +what I consider true love. What do you think, Prince?" + +"I know your sister too little," replied Prince Andrew, with a +sarcastic smile under which he wished to hide his embarrassment, "to +be able to solve so delicate a question, and then I have noticed +that the less attractive a woman is the more constant she is likely to +be," he added, and looked up Pierre who was just approaching them. + +"Yes, that is true, Prince. In our days," continued Vera- mentioning +"our days" as people of limited intelligence are fond of doing, +imagining that they have discovered and appraised the peculiarities of +"our days" and that human characteristics change with the times- "in +our days a girl has so much freedom that the pleasure of being courted +often stifles real feeling in her. And it must be confessed that +Natalie is very susceptible." This return to the subject of Natalie +caused Prince Andrew to knit his brows with discomfort: he was about +to rise, but Vera continued with a still more subtle smile: + +"I think no one has been more courted than she," she went on, "but +till quite lately she never cared seriously for anyone. Now you +know, Count," she said to Pierre, "even our dear cousin Boris, who, +between ourselves, was very far gone in the land of tenderness..." +(alluding to a map of love much in vogue at that time). + +Prince Andrew frowned and remained silent. + +"You are friendly with Boris, aren't you?" asked Vera. + +"Yes, I know him..." + +"I expect he has told you of his childish love for Natasha?" + +"Oh, there was childish love?" suddenly asked Prince Andrew, +blushing unexpectedly. + +"Yes, you know between cousins intimacy often leads to love. Le +cousinage est un dangereux voisinage.~^ Don't you think so?" + +^~ "Cousinhood is a dangerous neighborhood." + +"Oh, undoubtedly!" said Prince Andrew, and with sudden and unnatural +liveliness he began chaffing Pierre about the need to be very +careful with his fifty-year-old Moscow cousins, and in the midst of +these jesting remarks he rose, taking Pierre by the arm, and drew +him aside. + +"Well?" asked Pierre, seeing his friend's strange animation with +surprise, and noticing the glance he turned on Natasha as he rose. + +"I must... I must have a talk with you," said Prince Andrew. "You +know that pair of women's gloves?" (He referred to the Masonic +gloves given to a newly initiated Brother to present to the woman he +loved.) "I... but no, I will talk to you later on," and with a strange +light in his eyes and restlessness in his movements, Prince Andrew +approached Natasha and sat down beside her. Pierre saw how Prince +Andrew asked her something and how she flushed as she replied. + +But at that moment Berg came to Pierre and began insisting that he +should take part in an argument between the general and the colonel on +the affairs in Spain. + +Berg was satisfied and happy. The smile of pleasure never left his +face. The party was very successful and quite like other parties he +had seen. Everything was similar: the ladies' subtle talk, the +cards, the general raising his voice at the card table, and the +samovar and the tea cakes; only one thing was lacking that he had +always seen at the evening parties he wished to imitate. They had +not yet had a loud conversation among the men and a dispute about +something important and clever. Now the general had begun such a +discussion and so Berg drew Pierre to it. + +CHAPTER XXII + +Next day, having been invited by the count, Prince Andrew dined with +the Rostovs and spent the rest of the day there. + +Everyone in the house realized for whose sake Prince Andrew came, +and without concealing it he tried to be with Natasha all day. Not +only in the soul of the frightened yet happy and enraptured Natasha, +but in the whole house, there was a feeling of awe at something +important that was bound to happen. The countess looked with sad and +sternly serious eyes at Prince Andrew when he talked to Natasha and +timidly started some artificial conversation about trifles as soon +as he looked her way. Sonya was afraid to leave Natasha and afraid +of being in the way when she was with them. Natasha grew pale, in a +panic of expectation, when she remained alone with him for a moment. +Prince Andrew surprised her by his timidity. She felt that he wanted +to say something to her but could not bring himself to do so. + +In the evening, when Prince Andrew had left, the countess went up to +Natasha and whispered: "Well, what?" + +"Mamma! For heaven's sake don't ask me anything now! One can't +talk about that," said Natasha. + +But all the same that night Natasha, now agitated and now +frightened, lay long time in her mother's bed gazing straight before +her. She told her how he had complimented her, how he told her he +was going abroad, asked her where they were going to spend the summer, +and then how he had asked her about Boris. + +"But such a... such a... never happened to me before!" she said. +"Only I feel afraid in his presence. I am always afraid when I'm +with him. What does that mean? Does it mean that it's the real +thing? Yes? Mamma, are you asleep?" + +"No, my love; I am frightened myself," answered her mother. "Now +go!" + +"All the same I shan't sleep. What silliness, to sleep! Mummy! +Mummy! such a thing never happened to me before," she said, +surprised and alarmed at the feeling she was aware of in herself. "And +could we ever have thought!..." + +It seemed to Natasha that even at the time she first saw Prince +Andrew at Otradnoe she had fallen in love with him. It was as if she +feared this strange, unexpected happiness of meeting again the very +man she had then chosen (she was firmly convinced she had done so) and +of finding him, as it seemed, not indifferent to her. + +"And it had to happen that he should come specially to Petersburg +while we are here. And it had to happen that we should meet at that +ball. It is fate. Clearly it is fate that everything led up to this! +Already then, directly I saw him I felt something peculiar." + +"What else did he say to you? What are those verses? Read them..." +said her mother, thoughtfully, referring to some verses Prince +Andrew had written in Natasha's album. + +"Mamma, one need not be ashamed of his being a widower?" + +"Don't, Natasha! Pray to God. 'Marriages are made in heaven,'" +said her mother. + +"Darling Mummy, how I love you! How happy I am!" cried Natasha, +shedding tears of joy and excitement and embracing her mother. + +At that very time Prince Andrew was sitting with Pierre and +telling him of his love for Natasha and his firm resolve to make her +his wife. + +That day Countess Helene had a reception at her house. The French +ambassador was there, and a foreign prince of the blood who had of +late become a frequent visitor of hers, and many brilliant ladies +and gentlemen. Pierre, who had come downstairs, walked through the +rooms and struck everyone by his preoccupied, absent-minded, and +morose air. + +Since the ball he had felt the approach of a fit of nervous +depression and had made desperate efforts to combat it. Since the +intimacy of his wife with the royal prince, Pierre had unexpectedly +been made a gentleman of the bedchamber, and from that time he had +begun to feel oppressed and ashamed in court society, and dark +thoughts of the vanity of all things human came to him oftener than +before. At the same time the feeling he had noticed between his +protegee Natasha and Prince Andrew accentuated his gloom by the +contrast between his own position and his friend's. He tried equally +to avoid thinking about his wife, and about Natasha and Prince Andrew; +and again everything seemed to him insignificant in comparison with +eternity; again the question: for what? presented itself; and he +forced himself to work day and night at Masonic labors, hoping to +drive away the evil spirit that threatened him. Toward midnight, after +he had left the countess' apartments, he was sitting upstairs in a +shabby dressing gown, copying out the original transaction of the +Scottish lodge of Freemasons at a table in his low room cloudy with +tobacco smoke, when someone came in. It was Prince Andrew. + +"Ah, it's you!" said Pierre with a preoccupied, dissatisfied air. +"And I, you see, am hard at it." He pointed to his manuscript book +with that air of escaping from the ills of life with which unhappy +people look at their work. + +Prince Andrew, with a beaming, ecstatic expression of renewed life +on his face, paused in front of Pierre and, not noticing his sad look, +smiled at him with the egotism of joy. + +"Well, dear heart," said he, "I wanted to tell you about it +yesterday and I have come to do so today. I never experienced anything +like it before. I am in love, my friend!" + +Suddenly Pierre heaved a deep sigh and dumped his heavy person +down on the sofa beside Prince Andrew. + +"With Natasha Rostova, yes?" said he. + +"Yes, yes! Who else should it be? I should never have believed it, +but the feeling is stronger than I. Yesterday I tormented myself and +suffered, but I would not exchange even that torment for anything in +the world, I have not lived till now. At last I live, but I can't live +without her! But can she love me?... I am too old for her.... Why +don't you speak?" + +"I? I? What did I tell you?" said Pierre suddenly, rising and +beginning to pace up and down the room. "I always thought it.... +That girl is such a treasure... she is a rare girl.... My dear friend, +I entreat you, don't philosophize, don't doubt, marry, marry, +marry.... And I am sure there will not be a happier man than you." + +"But what of her?" + +"She loves you." + +"Don't talk rubbish..." said Prince Andrew, smiling and looking into +Pierre's eyes. + +"She does, I know," Pierre cried fiercely. + +"But do listen," returned Prince Andrew, holding him by the arm. "Do +you know the condition I am in? I must talk about it to someone." + +"Well, go on, go on. I am very glad," said Pierre, and his face +really changed, his brow became smooth, and he listened gladly to +Prince Andrew. Prince Andrew seemed, and really was, quite a +different, quite a new man. Where was his spleen, his contempt for +life, his disillusionment? Pierre was the only person to whom he +made up his mind to speak openly; and to him he told all that was in +his soul. Now he boldly and lightly made plans for an extended future, +said he could not sacrifice his own happiness to his father's caprice, +and spoke of how he would either make his father consent to this +marriage and love her, or would do without his consent; then he +marveled at the feeling that had mastered him as at something strange, +apart from and independent of himself. + +"I should not have believed anyone who told me that I was capable of +such love," said Prince Andrew. "It is not at all the same feeling +that I knew in the past. The whole world is now for me divided into +two halves: one half is she, and there all is joy, hope, light: the +other half is everything where she is not, and there is all gloom +and darkness...." + +"Darkness and gloom," reiterated Pierre: "yes, yes, I understand +that." + +"I cannot help loving the light, it is not my fault. And I am very +happy! You understand me? I know you are glad for my sake." + +"Yes, yes," Pierre assented, looking at his friend with a touched +and sad expression in his eyes. The brighter Prince Andrew's lot +appeared to him, the gloomier seemed his own. + +CHAPTER XXIII + +Prince Andrew needed his father's consent to his marriage, and to +obtain this he started for the country next day. + +His father received his son's communication with external composure, +but inward wrath. He could not comprehend how anyone could wish to +alter his life or introduce anything new into it, when his own life +was already ending. "If only they would let me end my days as I want +to," thought the old man, "then they might do as they please." With +his son, however, he employed the diplomacy he reserved for +important occasions and, adopting a quiet tone, discussed the whole +matter. + +In the first place the marriage was not a brilliant one as regards +birth, wealth, or rank. Secondly, Prince Andrew was no longer as young +as he had been and his health was poor (the old man laid special +stress on this), while she was very young. Thirdly, he had a son +whom it would be a pity to entrust to a chit of a girl. "Fourthly +and finally," the father said, looking ironically at his son, "I beg +you to put it off for a year: go abroad, take a cure, look out as +you wanted to for a German tutor for Prince Nicholas. Then if your +love or passion or obstinacy- as you please- is still as great, marry! +And that's my last word on it. Mind, the last..." concluded the +prince, in a tone which showed that nothing would make him alter his +decision. + +Prince Andrew saw clearly that the old man hoped that his +feelings, or his fiancee's, would not stand a year's test, or that +he (the old prince himself) would die before then, and he decided to +conform to his father's wish- to propose, and postpone the wedding for +a year. + +Three weeks after the last evening he had spent with the Rostovs, +Prince Andrew returned to Petersburg. + +Next day after her talk with her mother Natasha expected Bolkonski +all day, but he did not come. On the second and third day it was the +same. Pierre did not come either and Natasha, not knowing that +Prince Andrew had gone to see his father, could not explain his +absence to herself. + +Three weeks passed in this way. Natasha had no desire to go out +anywhere and wandered from room to room like a shadow, idle and +listless; she wept secretly at night and did not go to her mother in +the evenings. She blushed continually and was irritable. It seemed +to her that everybody knew about her disappointment and was laughing +at her and pitying her. Strong as was her inward grief, this wound +to her vanity intensified her misery. + +Once she came to her mother, tried to say something, and suddenly +began to cry. Her tears were those of an offended child who does not +know why it is being punished. + +The countess began to soothe Natasha, who after first listening to +her mother's words, suddenly interrupted her: + +"Leave off, Mamma! I don't think, and don't want to think about +it! He just came and then left off, left off..." + +Her voice trembled, and she again nearly cried, but recovered and +went on quietly: + +"And I don't at all want to get married. And I am afraid of him; I +have now become quite calm, quite calm." + +The day after this conversation Natasha put on the old dress which +she knew had the peculiar property of conducing to cheerfulness in the +mornings, and that day she returned to the old way of life which she +had abandoned since the ball. Having finished her morning tea she went +to the ballroom, which she particularly liked for its loud +resonance, and began singing her solfeggio. When she had finished +her first exercise she stood still in the middle of the room and +sang a musical phrase that particularly pleased her. She listened +joyfully (as though she had not expected it) to the charm of the notes +reverberating, filling the whole empty ballroom, and slowly dying +away; and all at once she felt cheerful. "What's the good of making so +much of it? Things are nice as it is," she said to herself, and she +began walking up and down the room, not stepping simply on the +resounding parquet but treading with each step from the heel to the +toe (she had on a new and favorite pair of shoes) and listening to the +regular tap of the heel and creak of the toe as gladly as she had to +the sounds of her own voice. Passing a mirror she glanced into it. +"There, that's me!" the expression of her face seemed to say as she +caught sight of herself. "Well, and very nice too! I need nobody." + +A footman wanted to come in to clear away something in the room +but she would not let him, and having closed the door behind him +continued her walk. That morning she had returned to her favorite +mood- love of, and delight in, herself. "How charming that Natasha +is!" she said again, speaking as some third, collective, male +person. "Pretty, a good voice, young, and in nobody's way if only they +leave her in peace." But however much they left her in peace she could +not now be at peace, and immediately felt this. + +In the hall the porch door opened, and someone asked, "At home?" and +then footsteps were heard. Natasha was looking at the mirror, but +did not see herself. She listened to the sounds in the hall. When +she saw herself, her face was pale. It was he. She knew this for +certain, though she hardly heard his voice through the closed doors. + +Pale and agitated, Natasha ran into the drawing room. + +"Mamma! Bolkonski has come!" she said. "Mamma, it is awful, it is +unbearable! I don't want... to be tormented? What am I to do?..." + +Before the countess could answer, Prince Andrew entered the room +with an agitated and serious face. As soon as he saw Natasha his +face brightened. He kissed the countess' hand and Natasha's, and sat +down beside the sofa. + +"It is long since we had the pleasure..." began the countess, but +Prince Andrew interrupted her by answering her intended question, +obviously in haste to say what he had to. + +"I have not been to see all this time because I have been at my +father's. I had to talk over a very important matter with him. I +only got back last night," he said glancing at Natasha; "I want to +have a talk with you, Countess," he added after a moment's pause. + +The countess lowered her eyes, sighing deeply. + +"I am at your disposal," she murmured. + +Natasha knew that she ought to go away, but was unable to do so: +something gripped her throat, and regardless of manners she stared +straight at Prince Andrew with wide-open eyes. + +"At once? This instant!... No, it can't be!" she thought. + +Again he glanced at her, and that glance convinced her that she +was not mistaken. Yes, at once, that very instant, her fate would be +decided. + +"Go, Natasha! I will call you," said the countess in a whisper. + +Natasha glanced with frightened imploring eyes at Prince Andrew +and at her mother and went out. + +"I have come, Countess, to ask for your daughter's hand," said +Prince Andrew. + +The countess' face flushed hotly, but she said nothing. + +"Your offer..." she began at last sedately. He remained silent, +looking into her eyes. "Your offer..." (she grew confused) "is +agreeable to us, and I accept your offer. I am glad. And my husband... +I hope... but it will depend on her...." + +"I will speak to her when I have your consent.... Do you give it +to me?" said Prince Andrew. + +"Yes," replied the countess. She held out her hand to him, and +with a mixed feeling of estrangement and tenderness pressed her lips +to his forehead as he stooped to kiss her hand. She wished to love him +as a son, but felt that to her he was a stranger and a terrifying man. +"I am sure my husband will consent," said the countess, "but your +father..." + +"My father, to whom I have told my plans, has made it an express +condition of his consent that the wedding is not to take place for a +year. And I wished to tell you of that," said Prince Andrew. + +"It is true that Natasha is still young, but- so long as that?..." + +"It is unavoidable," said Prince Andrew with a sigh. + +"I will send her to you," said the countess, and left the room. + +"Lord have mercy upon us!" she repeated while seeking her daughter. + +Sonya said that Natasha was in her bedroom. Natasha was sitting on +the bed, pale and dry eyed, and was gazing at the icons and whispering +something as she rapidly crossed herself. Seeing her mother she jumped +up and flew to her. + +"Well, Mamma?... Well?..." + +"Go, go to him. He is asking for your hand," said the countess, +coldly it seemed to Natasha. "Go... go," said the mother, sadly and +reproachfully, with a deep sigh, as her daughter ran away. + +Natasha never remembered how she entered the drawing room. When +she came in and saw him she paused. "Is it possible that this stranger +has now become everything to me?" she asked herself, and immediately +answered, "Yes, everything! He alone is now dearer to me than +everything in the world." Prince Andrew came up to her with downcast +eyes. + +"I have loved you from the very first moment I saw you. May I hope?" + +He looked at her and was struck by the serious impassioned +expression of her face. Her face said: "Why ask? Why doubt what you +cannot but know? Why speak, when words cannot express what one feels?" + +She drew near to him and stopped. He took her hand and kissed it. + +"Do you love me?" + +"Yes, yes!" Natasha murmured as if in vexation. Then she sighed +loudly and, catching her breath more and more quickly, began to sob. + +"What is it? What's the matter?" + +"Oh, I am so happy!" she replied, smiled through her tears, bent +over closer to him, paused for an instant as if asking herself whether +she might, and then kissed him. + +Prince Andrew held her hands, looked into her eyes, and did not find +in his heart his former love for her. Something in him had suddenly +changed; there was no longer the former poetic and mystic charm of +desire, but there was pity for her feminine and childish weakness, +fear at her devotion and trustfulness, and an oppressive yet joyful +sense of the duty that now bound him to her forever. The present +feeling, though not so bright and poetic as the former, was stronger +and more serious. + +"Did your mother tell you that it cannot be for a year?" asked +Prince Andrew, still looking into her eyes. + +"Is it possible that I- the 'chit of a girl,' as everybody called +me," thought Natasha- "is it possible that I am now to be the wife and +the equal of this strange, dear, clever man whom even my father +looks up to? Can it be true? Can it be true that there can be no +more playing with life, that now I am grown up, that on me now lies +a responsibility for my every word and deed? Yes, but what did he +ask me?" + +"No," she replied, but she had not understood his question. + +"Forgive me!" he said. "But you are so young, and I have already +been through so much in life. I am afraid for you, you do not yet know +yourself." + +Natasha listened with concentrated attention, trying but failing +to take in the meaning of his words. + +"Hard as this year which delays my happiness will be," continued +Prince Andrew, "it will give you time to be sure of yourself. I ask +you to make me happy in a year, but you are free: our engagement shall +remain a secret, and should you find that you do not love me, or +should you come to love..." said Prince Andrew with an unnatural +smile. + +"Why do you say that?" Natasha interrupted him. "You know that +from the very day you first came to Otradnoe I have loved you," she +cried, quite convinced that she spoke the truth. + +"In a year you will learn to know yourself...." + +"A whole year!" Natasha repeated suddenly, only now realizing that +the marriage was to be postponed for a year. "But why a year? Why a +year?..." + +Prince Andrew began to explain to her the reasons for this delay. +Natasha did not hear him. + +"And can't it be helped?" she asked. Prince Andrew did not reply, +but his face expressed the impossibility of altering that decision. + +"It's awful! Oh, it's awful! awful!" Natasha suddenly cried, and +again burst into sobs. "I shall die, waiting a year: it's +impossible, it's awful!" She looked into her lover's face and saw in +it a look of commiseration and perplexity. + +"No, no! I'll do anything!" she said, suddenly checking her tears. +"I am so happy." + +The father and mother came into the room and gave the betrothed +couple their blessing. + +From that day Prince Andrew began to frequent the Rostovs' as +Natasha's affianced lover. + +CHAPTER XXIV + +No betrothal ceremony took place and Natasha's engagement to +Bolkonski was not announced; Prince Andrew insisted on that. He said +that as he was responsible for the delay he ought to bear the whole +burden of it; that he had given his word and bound himself forever, +but that he did not wish to bind Natasha and gave her perfect freedom. +If after six months she felt that she did not love him she would +have full right to reject him. Naturally neither Natasha nor her +parents wished to hear of this, but Prince Andrew was firm. He came +every day to the Rostovs', but did not behave to Natasha as an +affianced lover: he did not use the familiar thou, but said you to +her, and kissed only her hand. After their engagement, quite +different, intimate, and natural relations sprang up between them. +It was as if they had not known each other till now. Both liked to +recall how they had regarded each other when as yet they were +nothing to one another; they felt themselves now quite different +beings: then they were artificial, now natural and sincere. At first +the family felt some constraint in intercourse with Prince Andrew; +he seemed a man from another world, and for a long time Natasha +trained the family to get used to him, proudly assuring them all +that he only appeared to be different, but was really just like all of +them, and that she was not afraid of him and no one else ought to +be. After a few days they grew accustomed to him, and without +restraint in his presence pursued their usual way of life, in which he +took his part. He could talk about rural economy with the count, +fashions with the countess and Natasha, and about albums and fancywork +with Sonya. Sometimes the household both among themselves and in his +presence expressed their wonder at how it had all happened, and at the +evident omens there had been of it: Prince Andrew's coming to Otradnoe +and their coming to Petersburg, and the likeness between Natasha and +Prince Andrew which her nurse had noticed on his first visit, and +Andrew's encounter with Nicholas in 1805, and many other incidents +betokening that it had to be. + +In the house that poetic dullness and quiet reigned which always +accompanies the presence of a betrothed couple. Often when all sitting +together everyone kept silent. Sometimes the others would get up and +go away and the couple, left alone, still remained silent. They rarely +spoke of their future life. Prince Andrew was afraid and ashamed to +speak of it. Natasha shared this as she did all his feelings, which +she constantly divined. Once she began questioning him about his +son. Prince Andrew blushed, as he often did now- Natasha +particularly liked it in him- and said that his son would not live +with them. + +"Why not?" asked Natasha in a frightened tone. + +"I cannot take him away from his grandfather, and besides..." + +"How I should have loved him!" said Natasha, immediately guessing +his thought; "but I know you wish to avoid any pretext for finding +fault with us." + +Sometimes the old count would come up, kiss Prince Andrew, and ask +his advice about Petya's education or Nicholas' service. The old +countess sighed as she looked at them; Sonya was always getting +frightened lest she should be in the way and tried to find excuses for +leaving them alone, even when they did not wish it. When Prince Andrew +spoke (he could tell a story very well), Natasha listened to him +with pride; when she spoke she noticed with fear and joy that he gazed +attentively and scrutinizingly at her. She asked herself in +perplexity: "What does he look for in me? He is trying to discover +something by looking at me! What if what he seeks in me is not there?" +Sometimes she fell into one of the mad, merry moods characteristic +of her, and then she particularly loved to hear and see how Prince +Andrew laughed. He seldom laughed, but when he did he abandoned +himself entirely to his laughter, and after such a laugh she always +felt nearer to him. Natasha would have been completely happy if the +thought of the separation awaiting her and drawing near had not +terrified her, just as the mere thought of it made him turn pale and +cold. + +On the eve of his departure from Petersburg Prince Andrew brought +with him Pierre, who had not been to the Rostovs' once since the ball. +Pierre seemed disconcerted and embarrassed. He was talking to the +countess, and Natasha sat down beside a little chess table with Sonya, +thereby inviting Prince Andrew to come too. He did so. + +"You have known Bezukhov a long time?" he asked. "Do you like him?" + +"Yes, he's a dear, but very absurd." + +And as usual when speaking of Pierre, she began to tell anecdotes of +his absent-mindedness, some of which had even been invented about him. + +"Do you know I have entrusted him with our secret? I have known +him from childhood. He has a heart of gold. I beg you, Natalie," +Prince Andrew said with sudden seriousness- "I am going away and +heaven knows what may happen. You may cease to... all right, I know +I am not to say that. Only this, then: whatever may happen to you when +I am not here..." + +"What can happen?" + +"Whatever trouble may come," Prince Andrew continued, "I beg you, +Mademoiselle Sophie, whatever may happen, to turn to him alone for +advice and help! He is a most absent-minded and absurd fellow, but +he has a heart of gold." + +Neither her father, nor her mother, nor Sonya, nor Prince Andrew +himself could have foreseen how the separation from her lover would +act on Natasha. Flushed and agitated she went about the house all that +day, dry-eyed, occupied with most trivial matters as if not +understanding what awaited her. She did not even cry when, on taking +leave, he kissed her hand for the last time. "Don't go!" she said in a +tone that made him wonder whether he really ought not to stay and +which he remembered long afterwards. Nor did she cry when he was gone; +but for several days she sat in her room dry-eyed, taking no +interest in anything and only saying now and then, "Oh, why did he +go away?" + +But a fortnight after his departure, to the surprise of those around +her, she recovered from her mental sickness just as suddenly and +became her old self again, but with a change in her moral physiognomy, +as a child gets up after a long illness with a changed expression of +face. + +CHAPTER XXV + +During that year after his son's departure, Prince Nicholas +Bolkonski's health and temper became much worse. He grew still more +irritable, and it was Princess Mary who generally bore the brunt of +his frequent fits of unprovoked anger. He seemed carefully to seek out +her tender spots so as to torture her mentally as harshly as possible. +Princess Mary had two passions and consequently two joys- her +nephew, little Nicholas, and religion- and these were the favorite +subjects of the prince's attacks and ridicule. Whatever was spoken +of he would bring round to the superstitiousness of old maids, or +the petting and spoiling of children. "You want to make him"- little +Nicholas- "into an old maid like yourself! A pity! Prince Andrew wants +a son and not an old maid," he would say. Or, turning to +Mademoiselle Bourienne, he would ask her in Princess Mary's presence +how she liked our village priests and icons and would joke about them. + +He continually hurt Princess Mary's feelings and tormented her, +but it cost her no effort to forgive him. Could he be to blame +toward her, or could her father, whom she knew loved her in spite of +it all, be unjust? And what is justice? The princess never thought +of that proud word "justice." All the complex laws of man centered for +her in one clear and simple law- the law of love and self-sacrifice +taught us by Him who lovingly suffered for mankind though He Himself +was God. What had she to do with the justice or injustice of other +people? She had to endure and love, and that she did. + +During the winter Prince Andrew had come to Bald Hills and had +been gay, gentle, and more affectionate than Princess Mary had known +him for a long time past. She felt that something had happened to him, +but he said nothing to her about his love. Before he left he had a +long talk with his father about something, and Princess Mary noticed +that before his departure they were dissatisfied with one another. + +Soon after Prince Andrew had gone, Princess Mary wrote to her friend +Julie Karagina in Petersburg, whom she had dreamed (as all girls +dream) of marrying to her brother, and who was at that time in +mourning for her own brother, killed in Turkey. + +Sorrow, it seems, is our common lot, my dear, tender friend Julie. + +Your loss is so terrible that I can only explain it to myself as a +special providence of God who, loving you, wishes to try you and +your excellent mother. Oh, my friend! Religion, and religion alone, +can- I will not say comfort us- but save us from despair. Religion +alone can explain to us what without its help man cannot comprehend: +why, for what cause, kind and noble beings able to find happiness in +life- not merely harming no one but necessary to the happiness of +others- are called away to God, while cruel, useless, harmful persons, +or such as are a burden to themselves and to others, are left +living. The first death I saw, and one I shall never forget- that of +my dear sister-in-law- left that impression on me. Just as you ask +destiny why your splendid brother had to die, so I asked why that +angel Lise, who not only never wronged anyone, but in whose soul there +were never any unkind thoughts, had to die. And what do you think, +dear friend? Five years have passed since then, and already I, with my +petty understanding, begin to see clearly why she had to die, and in +what way that death was but an expression of the infinite goodness +of the Creator, whose every action, though generally +incomprehensible to us, is but a manifestation of His infinite love +for His creatures. Perhaps, I often think, she was too angelically +innocent to have the strength to perform all a mother's duties. As a +young wife she was irreproachable; perhaps she could not have been +so as a mother. As it is, not only has she left us, and particularly +Prince Andrew, with the purest regrets and memories, but probably +she will there receive a place I dare not hope for myself. But not +to speak of her alone, that early and terrible death has had the +most beneficent influence on me and on my brother in spite of all +our grief. Then, at the moment of our loss, these thoughts could not +occur to me; I should then have dismissed them with horror, but now +they are very clear and certain. I write all this to you, dear friend, +only to convince you of the Gospel truth which has become for me a +principle of life: not a single hair of our heads will fall without +His will. And His will is governed only by infinite love for us, and +so whatever befalls us is for our good. + +You ask whether we shall spend next winter in Moscow. In spite of my +wish to see you, I do not think so and do not want to do so. You +will be surprised to hear that the reason for this is Buonaparte! +The case is this: my father's health is growing noticeably worse, he +cannot stand any contradiction and is becoming irritable. This +irritability is, as you know, chiefly directed to political questions. +He cannot endure the notion that Buonaparte is negotiating on equal +terms with all the sovereigns of Europe and particularly with our own, +the grandson of the Great Catherine! As you know, I am quite +indifferent to politics, but from my father's remarks and his talks +with Michael Ivanovich I know all that goes on in the world and +especially about the honors conferred on Buonaparte, who only at +Bald Hills in the whole world, it seems, is not accepted as a great +man, still less as Emperor of France. And my father cannot stand this. +It seems to me that it is chiefly because of his political views +that my father is reluctant to speak of going to Moscow; for he +foresees the encounters that would result from his way of expressing +his views regardless of anybody. All the benefit he might derive +from a course of treatment he would lose as a result of the disputes +about Buonaparte which would be inevitable. In any case it will be +decided very shortly. + +Our family life goes on in the old way except for my brother +Andrew's absence. He, as I wrote you before, has changed very much +of late. After his sorrow he only this year quite recovered his +spirits. He has again become as I used to know him when a child: kind, +affectionate, with that heart of gold to which I know no equal. He has +realized, it seems to me, that life is not over for him. But +together with this mental change he has grown physically much +weaker. He has become thinner and more nervous. I am anxious about him +and glad he is taking this trip abroad which the doctors recommended +long ago. I hope it will cure him. You write that in Petersburg he +is spoken of as one of the most active, cultivated, and capable of the +young men. Forgive my vanity as a relation, but I never doubted it. +The good he has done to everybody here, from his peasants up to the +gentry, is incalculable. On his arrival in Petersburg he received only +his due. I always wonder at the way rumors fly from Petersburg to +Moscow, especially such false ones as that you write about- I mean the +report of my brother's betrothal to the little Rostova. I do not think +my brother will ever marry again, and certainly not her; and this is +why: first, I know that though he rarely speaks about the wife he +has lost, the grief of that loss has gone too deep in his heart for +him ever to decide to give her a successor and our little angel a +stepmother. Secondly because, as far as I know, that girl is not the +kind of girl who could please Prince Andrew. I do not think he would +choose her for a wife, and frankly I do not wish it. But I am +running on too long and am at the end of my second sheet. Good-by, +my dear friend. May God keep you in His holy and mighty care. My +dear friend, Mademoiselle Bourienne, sends you kisses. + +MARY + +CHAPTER XXVI + +In the middle of the summer Princess Mary received an unexpected +letter from Prince Andrew in Switzerland in which he gave her +strange and surprising news. He informed her of his engagement to +Natasha Rostova. The whole letter breathed loving rapture for his +betrothed and tender and confiding affection for his sister. He +wrote that he had never loved as he did now and that only now did he +understand and know what life was. He asked his sister to forgive +him for not having told her of his resolve when he had last visited +Bald Hills, though he had spoken of it to his father. He had not +done so for fear Princess Mary should ask her father to give his +consent, irritating him and having to bear the brunt of his +displeasure without attaining her object. "Besides," he wrote, "the +matter was not then so definitely settled as it is now. My father then +insisted on a delay of a year and now already six months, half of that +period, have passed, and my resolution is firmer than ever. If the +doctors did not keep me here at the spas I should be back in Russia, +but as it is I have to postpone my return for three months. You know +me and my relations with Father. I want nothing from him. I have +been and always shall be independent; but to go against his will and +arouse his anger, now that he may perhaps remain with us such a +short time, would destroy half my happiness. I am now writing to him +about the same question, and beg you to choose a good moment to hand +him the letter and to let me know how he looks at the whole matter and +whether there is hope that he may consent to reduce the term by four +months." + +After long hesitations, doubts, and prayers, Princess Mary gave +the letter to her father. The next day the old prince said to her +quietly: + +"Write and tell your brother to wait till I am dead.... It won't +be long- I shall soon set him free." + +The princess was about to reply, but her father would not let her +speak and, raising his voice more and more, cried: + +"Marry, marry, my boy!... A good family!... Clever people, eh? Rich, +eh? Yes, a nice stepmother little Nicholas will have! Write and tell +him that he may marry tomorrow if he likes. She will be little +Nicholas' stepmother and I'll marry Bourienne!... Ha, ha, ha! He +mustn't be without a stepmother either! Only one thing, no more +women are wanted in my house- let him marry and live by himself. +Perhaps you will go and live with him too?" he added, turning to +Princess Mary. "Go in heavens name! Go out into the frost... the +frost... the frost! + +After this outburst the prince did not speak any more about the +matter. But repressed vexation at his son's poor-spirited behavior +found expression in his treatment of his daughter. To his former +pretexts for irony a fresh one was now added- allusions to stepmothers +and amiabilities to Mademoiselle Bourienne. + +"Why shouldn't I marry her?" he asked his daughter. "She'll make a +splendid princess!" + +And latterly, to her surprise and bewilderment, Princess Mary +noticed that her father was really associating more and more with +the Frenchwoman. She wrote to Prince Andrew about the reception of his +letter, but comforted him with hopes of reconciling their father to +the idea. + +Little Nicholas and his education, her brother Andrew, and +religion were Princess Mary's joys and consolations; but besides that, +since everyone must have personal hopes, Princess Mary in the +profoundest depths of her heart had a hidden dream and hope that +supplied the chief consolation of her life. This comforting dream +and hope were given her by God's folk- the half-witted and other +pilgrims who visited her without the prince's knowledge. The longer +she lived, the more experience and observation she had of life, the +greater was her wonder at the short-sightedness of men who seek +enjoyment and happiness here on earth: toiling, suffering, struggling, +and harming one another, to obtain that impossible, visionary, +sinful happiness. Prince Andrew had loved his wife, she died, but that +was not enough: he wanted to bind his happiness to another woman. +Her father objected to this because he wanted a more distinguished and +wealthier match for Andrew. And they all struggled and suffered and +tormented one another and injured their souls, their eternal souls, +for the attainment of benefits which endure but for an instant. Not +only do we know this ourselves, but Christ, the Son of God, came +down to earth and told us that this life is but for a moment and is +a probation; yet we cling to it and think to find happiness in it. +"How is it that no one realizes this?" thought Princess Mary. "No +one except these despised God's folk who, wallet on back, come to me +by the back door, afraid of being seen by the prince, not for fear +of ill-usage by him but for fear of causing him to sin. To leave +family, home, and all the cares of worldly welfare, in order without +clinging to anything to wander in hempen rags from place to place +under an assumed name, doing no one any harm but praying for all- +for those who drive one away as well as for those who protect one: +higher than that life and truth there is no life or truth!" + +There was one pilgrim, a quiet pockmarked little woman of fifty +called Theodosia, who for over thirty years had gone about barefoot +and worn heavy chains. Princess Mary was particularly fond of her. +Once, when in a room with a lamp dimly lit before the icon Theodosia +was talking of her life, the thought that Theodosia alone had found +the true path of life suddenly came to Princess Mary with such force +that she resolved to become a pilgrim herself. When Theodosia had gone +to sleep Princess Mary thought about this for a long time, and at last +made up her mind that, strange as it might seem, she must go on a +pilgrimage. She disclosed this thought to no one but to her confessor, +Father Akinfi, the monk, and he approved of her intention. Under guise +of a present for the pilgrims, Princess Mary prepared a pilgrim's +complete costume for herself: a coarse smock, bast shoes, a rough +coat, and a black kerchief. Often, approaching the chest of drawers +containing this secret treasure, Princess Mary paused, uncertain +whether the time had not already come to put her project into +execution. + +Often, listening to the pilgrims' tales, she was so stimulated by +their simple speech, mechanical to them but to her so full of deep +meaning, that several times she was on the point of abandoning +everything and running away from home. In imagination she already +pictured herself by Theodosia's side, dressed in coarse rags, +walking with a staff, a wallet on her back, along the dusty road, +directing her wanderings from one saint's shrine to another, free from +envy, earthly love, or desire, and reaching at last the place where +there is no more sorrow or sighing, but eternal joy and bliss. + +"I shall come to a place and pray there, and before having time to +get used to it or getting to love it, I shall go farther. I will go on +till my legs fail, and I'll lie down and die somewhere, and shall at +last reach that eternal, quiet haven, where there is neither sorrow +nor sighing..." thought Princess Mary. + +But afterwards, when she saw her father and especially little Koko +(Nicholas), her resolve weakened. She wept quietly, and felt that +she was a sinner who loved her father and little nephew more than God. + +BOOK SEVEN: 1810 - 11 + +CHAPTER I + +The Bible legend tells us that the absence of labor- idleness- was a +condition of the first man's blessedness before the Fall. Fallen man +has retained a love of idleness, but the curse weighs on the race +not only because we have to seek our bread in the sweat of our +brows, but because our moral nature is such that we cannot be both +idle and at ease. An inner voice tells us we are in the wrong if we +are idle. If man could find a state in which he felt that though +idle he was fulfilling his duty, he would have found one of the +conditions of man's primitive blessedness. And such a state of +obligatory and irreproachable idleness is the lot of a whole class- +the military. The chief attraction of military service has consisted +and will consist in this compulsory and irreproachable idleness. + +Nicholas Rostov experienced this blissful condition to the full +when, after 1807, he continued to serve in the Pavlograd regiment, +in which he already commanded the squadron he had taken over from +Denisov. + +Rostov had become a bluff, good-natured fellow, whom his Moscow +acquaintances would have considered rather bad form, but who was liked +and respected by his comrades, subordinates, and superiors, and was +well contented with his life. Of late, in 1809, he found in letters +from home more frequent complaints from his mother that their +affairs were falling into greater and greater disorder, and that it +was time for him to come back to gladden and comfort his old parents. + +Reading these letters, Nicholas felt a dread of their wanting to +take him away from surroundings in which, protected from all the +entanglements of life, he was living so calmly and quietly. He felt +that sooner or later he would have to re-enter that whirlpool of life, +with its embarrassments and affairs to be straightened out, its +accounts with stewards, quarrels, and intrigues, its ties, society, +and with Sonya's love and his promise to her. It was all dreadfully +difficult and complicated; and he replied to his mother in cold, +formal letters in French, beginning: "My dear Mamma," and ending: +"Your obedient son," which said nothing of when he would return. In +1810 he received letters from his parents, in which they told him of +Natasha's engagement to Bolkonski, and that the wedding would be in +a year's time because the old prince made difficulties. This letter +grieved and mortified Nicholas. In the first place he was sorry that +Natasha, for whom he cared more than for anyone else in the family, +should be lost to the home; and secondly, from his hussar point of +view, he regretted not to have been there to show that fellow +Bolkonski that connection with him was no such great honor after +all, and that if he loved Natasha he might dispense with permission +from his dotard father. For a moment he hesitated whether he should +not apply for leave in order to see Natasha before she was married, +but then came the maneuvers, and considerations about Sonya and +about the confusion of their affairs, and Nicholas again put it off. +But in the spring of that year, he received a letter from his +mother, written without his father's knowledge, and that letter +persuaded him to return. She wrote that if he did not come and take +matters in hand, their whole property would be sold by auction and +they would all have to go begging. The count was so weak, and +trusted Mitenka so much, and was so good-natured, that everybody +took advantage of him and things were going from bad to worse. "For +God's sake, I implore you, come at once if you do not wish to make +me and the whole family wretched," wrote the countess. + +This letter touched Nicholas. He had that common sense of a +matter-of-fact man which showed him what he ought to do. + +The right thing now was, if not to retire from the service, at any +rate to go home on leave. Why he had to go he did not know; but +after his after-dinner nap he gave orders to saddle Mars, an extremely +vicious gray stallion that had not been ridden for a long time, and +when he returned with the horse all in a lather, he informed Lavrushka +(Denisov's servant who had remained with him) and his comrades who +turned up in the evening that he was applying for leave and was +going home. Difficult and strange as it was for him to reflect that he +would go away without having heard from the staff- and this interested +him extremely- whether he was promoted to a captaincy or would receive +the Order of St. Anne for the last maneuvers; strange as it was to +think that he would go away without having sold his three roans to the +Polish Count Golukhovski, who was bargaining for the horses Rostov had +betted he would sell for two thousand rubles; incomprehensible as it +seemed that the ball the hussars were giving in honor of the Polish +Mademoiselle Przazdziecka (out of rivalry to the Uhlans who had +given one in honor of their Polish Mademoiselle Borzozowska) would +take place without him- he knew he must go away from this good, bright +world to somewhere where everything was stupid and confused. A week +later he obtained his leave. His hussar comrades- not only those of +his own regiment, but the whole brigade- gave Rostov a dinner to which +the subscription was fifteen rubles a head, and at which there were +two bands and two choirs of singers. Rostov danced the Trepak with +Major Basov; the tipsy officers tossed, embraced, and dropped +Rostov; the soldiers of the third squadron tossed him too, and shouted +"hurrah!" and then they put him in his sleigh and escorted him as +far as the first post station. + +During the first half of the journey- from Kremenchug to Kiev- all +Rostov's thoughts, as is usual in such cases, were behind him, with +the squadron; but when he had gone more than halfway he began to +forget his three roans and Dozhoyveyko, his quartermaster, and to +wonder anxiously how things would be at Otradnoe and what he would +find there. Thoughts of home grew stronger the nearer he approached +it- far stronger, as though this feeling of his was subject to the law +by which the force of attraction is in inverse proportion to the +square of the distance. At the last post station before Otradnoe he +gave the driver a three-ruble tip, and on arriving he ran +breathlessly, like a boy, up the steps of his home. + +After the rapture of meeting, and after that odd feeling of +unsatisfied expectation- the feeling that "everything is just the +same, so why did I hurry?"- Nicholas began to settle down in his old +home world. His father and mother were much the same, only a little +older. What was new in them was a certain uneasiness and occasional +discord, which there used not to be, and which, as Nicholas soon found +out, was due to the bad state of their affairs. Sonya was nearly +twenty; she had stopped growing prettier and promised nothing more +than she was already, but that was enough. She exhaled happiness and +love from the time Nicholas returned, and the faithful, unalterable +love of this girl had a gladdening effect on him. Petya and Natasha +surprised Nicholas most. Petya was a big handsome boy of thirteen, +merry, witty, and mischievous, with a voice that was already breaking. +As for Natasha, for a long while Nicholas wondered and laughed +whenever he looked at her. + +"You're not the same at all," he said. + +"How? Am I uglier?" + +"On the contrary, but what dignity? A princess!" he whispered to +her. + +"Yes, yes, yes!" cried Natasha, joyfully. + +She told him about her romance with Prince Andrew and of his visit +to Otradnoe and showed him his last letter. + +"Well, are you glad?" Natasha asked. "I am so tranquil and happy +now." + +"Very glad," answered Nicholas. "He is an excellent fellow.... And +are you very much in love?" + +"How shall I put it?" replied Natasha. "I was in love with Boris, +with my teacher, and with Denisov, but this is quite different. I feel +at peace and settled. I know that no better man than he exists, and +I am calm and contented now. Not at all as before." + +Nicholas expressed his disapproval of the postponement of the +marriage for a year; but Natasha attacked her brother with +exasperation, proving to him that it could not be otherwise, and +that it would be a bad thing to enter a family against the father's +will, and that she herself wished it so. + +"You don't at all understand," she said. + +Nicholas was silent and agreed with her. + +Her brother often wondered as he looked at her. She did not seem +at all like a girl in love and parted from her affianced husband. +She was even-tempered and calm and quite as cheerful as of old. This +amazed Nicholas and even made him regard Bolkonski's courtship +skeptically. He could not believe that her fate was sealed, especially +as he had not seen her with Prince Andrew. It always seemed to him +that there was something not quite right about this intended marriage. + +"Why this delay? Why no betrothal?" he thought. Once, when he had +touched on this topic with his mother, he discovered, to his +surprise and somewhat to his satisfaction, that in the depth of her +soul she too had doubts about this marriage. + +"You see he writes," said she, showing her son a letter of Prince +Andrew's, with that latent grudge a mother always has in regard to a +daughter's future married happiness, "he writes that he won't come +before December. What can be keeping him? Illness, probably! His +health is very delicate. Don't tell Natasha. And don't attach +importance to her being so bright: that's because she's living through +the last days of her girlhood, but I know what she is like every +time we receive a letter from him! However, God grant that +everything turns out well!" (She always ended with these words.) "He +is an excellent man!" + +CHAPTER II + +After reaching home Nicholas was at first serious and even dull. +He was worried by the impending necessity of interfering in the stupid +business matters for which his mother had called him home. To throw +off this burden as quickly as possible, on the third day after his +arrival he went, angry and scowling and without answering questions as +to where he was going, to Mitenka's lodge and demanded an account of +everything. But what an account of everything might be Nicholas knew +even less than the frightened and bewildered Mitenka. The conversation +and the examination of the accounts with Mitenka did not last long. +The village elder, a peasant delegate, and the village clerk, who were +waiting in the passage, heard with fear and delight first the young +count's voice roaring and snapping and rising louder and louder, and +then words of abuse, dreadful words, ejaculated one after the other. + +"Robber!... Ungrateful wretch!... I'll hack the dog to pieces! I'm +not my father!... Robbing us!..." and so on. + +Then with no less fear and delight they saw how the young count, red +in the face and with bloodshot eyes, dragged Mitenka out by the scruff +of the neck and applied his foot and knee to him behind with great +agility at convenient moments between the words, shouting, "Be off! +Never let me see your face here again, you villain!" + +Mitenka flew headlong down the six steps and ran away into the +shrubbery. (This shrubbery was a well-known haven of refuge for +culprits at Otradnoe. Mitenka himself, returning tipsy from the +town, used to hide there, and many of the residents at Otradnoe, +hiding from Mitenka, knew of its protective qualities.) + +Mitenka's wife and sisters-in-law thrust their heads and +frightened faces out of the door of a room where a bright samovar +was boiling and where the steward's high bedstead stood with its +patchwork quilt. + +The young count paid no heed to them, but, breathing hard, passed by +with resolute strides and went into the house. + +The countess, who heard at once from the maids what had happened +at the lodge, was calmed by the thought that now their affairs would +certainly improve, but on the other hand felt anxious as to the effect +this excitement might have on her son. She went several times to his +door on tiptoe and listened, as he lighted one pipe after another. + +Next day the old count called his son aside and, with an embarrassed +smile, said to him: + +"But you know, my dear boy, it's a pity you got excited! Mitenka has +told me all about it." + +"I knew," thought Nicholas, "that I should never understand anything +in this crazy world." + +"You were angry that he had not entered those 700 rubles. But they +were carried forward- and you did not look at the other page." + +"Papa, he is a blackguard and a thief! I know he is! And what I have +done, I have done; but, if you like, I won't speak to him again." + +"No, my dear boy" (the count, too, felt embarrassed. He knew he +had mismanaged his wife's property and was to blame toward his +children, but he did not know how to remedy it). "No, I beg you to +attend to the business. I am old. I..." + +"No, Papa. Forgive me if I have caused you unpleasantness. I +understand it all less than you do." + +"Devil take all these peasants, and money matters, and carryings +forward from page to page," he thought. "I used to understand what a +'corner' and the stakes at cards meant, but carrying forward to +another page I don't understand at all," said he to himself, and after +that he did not meddle in business affairs. But once the countess +called her son and informed him that she had a promissory note from +Anna Mikhaylovna for two thousand rubles, and asked him what he +thought of doing with it. + +"This," answered Nicholas. "You say it rests with me. Well, I +don't like Anna Mikhaylovna and I don't like Boris, but they were +our friends and poor. Well then, this!" and he tore up the note, and +by so doing caused the old countess to weep tears of joy. After +that, young Rostov took no further part in any business affairs, but +devoted himself with passionate enthusiasm to what was to him a new +pursuit- the chase- for which his father kept a large establishment. + +CHAPTER III + +The weather was already growing wintry and morning frosts +congealed an earth saturated by autumn rains. The verdure had +thickened and its bright green stood out sharply against the +brownish strips of winter rye trodden down by the cattle, and +against the pale-yellow stubble of the spring buckwheat. The wooded +ravines and the copses, which at the end of August had still been +green islands amid black fields and stubble, had become golden and +bright-red islands amid the green winter rye. The hares had already +half changed their summer coats, the fox cubs were beginning to +scatter, and the young wolves were bigger than dogs. It was the best +time of the year for the chase. The hounds of that ardent young +sportsman Rostov had not merely reached hard winter condition, but +were so jaded that at a meeting of the huntsmen it was decided to give +them a three days' rest and then, on the sixteenth of September, to go +on a distant expedition, starting from the oak grove where there was +an undisturbed litter of wolf cubs. + +All that day the hounds remained at home. It was frosty and the +air was sharp, but toward evening the sky became overcast and it began +to thaw. On the fifteenth, when young Rostov, in his dressing gown, +looked out of the window, he saw it was an unsurpassable morning for +hunting: it was as if the sky were melting and sinking to the earth +without any wind. The only motion in the air was that of the dripping, +microscopic particles of drizzling mist. The bare twigs in the +garden were hung with transparent drops which fell on the freshly +fallen leaves. The earth in the kitchen garden looked wet and black +and glistened like poppy seed and at a short distance merged into +the dull, moist veil of mist. Nicholas went out into the wet and muddy +porch. There was a smell of decaying leaves and of dog. Milka, a +black-spotted, broad-haunched bitch with prominent black eyes, got +up on seeing her master, stretched her hind legs, lay down like a +hare, and then suddenly jumped up and licked him right on his nose and +mustache. Another borzoi, a dog, catching sight of his master from the +garden path, arched his back and, rushing headlong toward the porch +with lifted tail, began rubbing himself against his legs. + +"O-hoy!" came at that moment, that inimitable huntsman's call +which unites the deepest bass with the shrillest tenor, and round +the corner came Daniel the head huntsman and head kennelman, a gray, +wrinkled old man with hair cut straight over his forehead, Ukrainian +fashion, a long bent whip in his hand, and that look of independence +and scorn of everything that is only seen in huntsmen. He doffed his +Circassian cap to his master and looked at him scornfully. This +scorn was not offensive to his master. Nicholas knew that this Daniel, +disdainful of everybody and who considered himself above them, was all +the same his serf and huntsman. + +"Daniel!" Nicholas said timidly, conscious at the sight of the +weather, the hounds, and the huntsman that he was being carried away +by that irresistible passion for sport which makes a man forget all +his previous resolutions, as a lover forgets in the presence of his +mistress. + +"What orders, your excellency?" said the huntsman in his deep +bass, deep as a proto-deacon's and hoarse with hallooing- and two +flashing black eyes gazed from under his brows at his master, who +was silent. "Can you resist it?" those eyes seemed to be asking. + +"It's a good day, eh? For a hunt and a gallop, eh?" asked +Nicholas, scratching Milka behind the ears. + +Daniel did not answer, but winked instead. + +"I sent Uvarka at dawn to listen," his bass boomed out after a +minute's pause. "He says she's moved them into the Otradnoe enclosure. +They were howling there." (This meant that the she-wolf, about whom +they both knew, had moved with her cubs to the Otradnoe copse, a small +place a mile and a half from the house.) + +"We ought to go, don't you think so?" said Nicholas. "Come to me +with Uvarka." + +"As you please." + +"Then put off feeding them." + +"Yes, sir." + +Five minutes later Daniel and Uvarka were standing in Nicholas' +big study. Though Daniel was not a big man, to see him in a room was +like seeing a horse or a bear on the floor among the furniture and +surroundings of human life. Daniel himself felt this, and as usual +stood just inside the door, trying to speak softly and not move, for +fear of breaking something in the master's apartment, and he +hastened to say all that was necessary so as to get from under that +ceiling, out into the open under the sky once more. + +Having finished his inquiries and extorted from Daniel an opinion +that the hounds were fit (Daniel himself wished to go hunting), +Nicholas ordered the horses to be saddled. But just as Daniel was +about to go Natasha came in with rapid steps, not having done up her +hair or finished dressing and with her old nurse's big shawl wrapped +round her. Petya ran in at the same time. + +"You are going?" asked Natasha. "I knew you would! Sonya said you +wouldn't go, but I knew that today is the sort of day when you +couldn't help going." + +"Yes, we are going," replied Nicholas reluctantly, for today, as +he intended to hunt seriously, he did not want to take Natasha and +Petya. "We are going, but only wolf hunting: it would be dull for +you." + +"You know it is my greatest pleasure," said Natasha. "It's not fair; +you are going by yourself, are having the horses saddled and said +nothing to us about it." + +"'No barrier bars a Russian's path'- we'll go!" shouted Petya. + +"But you can't. Mamma said you mustn't," said Nicholas to Natasha. + +"Yes, I'll go. I shall certainly go," said Natasha decisively. +"Daniel, tell them to saddle for us, and Michael must come with my +dogs," she added to the huntsman. + +It seemed to Daniel irksome and improper to be in a room at all, but +to have anything to do with a young lady seemed to him impossible. +He cast down his eyes and hurried out as if it were none of his +business, careful as he went not to inflict any accidental injury on +the young lady. + +CHAPTER IV + +The old count, who had always kept up an enormous hunting +establishment but had now handed it all completely over to his son's +care, being in very good spirits on this fifteenth of September, +prepared to go out with the others. + +In an hour's time the whole hunting party was at the porch. +Nicholas, with a stern and serious air which showed that now was no +time for attending to trifles, went past Natasha and Petya who were +trying to tell him something. He had a look at all the details of +the hunt, sent a pack of hounds and huntsmen on ahead to find the +quarry, mounted his chestnut Donets, and whistling to his own leash of +borzois, set off across the threshing ground to a field leading to the +Otradnoe wood. The old count's horse, a sorrel gelding called +Viflyanka, was led by the groom in attendance on him, while the +count himself was to drive in a small trap straight to a spot reserved +for him. + +They were taking fifty-four hounds, with six hunt attendants and +whippers-in. Besides the family, there were eight borzoi kennelmen and +more than forty borzois, so that, with the borzois on the leash +belonging to members of the family, there were about a hundred and +thirty dogs and twenty horsemen. + +Each dog knew its master and its call. Each man in the hunt knew his +business. his place, what he had to do. As soon as they had passed the +fence they all spread out evenly and quietly, without noise or talk, +along the road and field leading to the Otradnoe covert. + +The horses stepped over the field as over a thick carpet, now and +then splashing into puddles as they crossed a road. The misty sky +still seemed to descend evenly and imperceptibly toward the earth, the +air was still, warm, and silent. Occasionally the whistle of a +huntsman, the snort of a horse, the crack of a whip, or the whine of a +straggling hound could be heard. + +When they had gone a little less than a mile, five more riders +with dogs appeared out of the mist, approaching the Rostovs. In +front rode a fresh-looking, handsome old man with a large gray +mustache. + +"Good morning, Uncle!" said Nicholas, when the old man drew near. + +"That's it. Come on!... I was sure of it," began "Uncle." (He was +a distant relative of the Rostovs', a man of small means, and their +neighbor.) "I knew you wouldn't be able to resist it and it's a good +thing you're going. That's it! Come on! (This was "Uncle's" favorite +expression.) "Take the covert at once, for my Girchik says the Ilagins +are at Korniki with their hounds. That's it. Come on!... They'll +take the cubs from under your very nose." + +"That's where I'm going. Shall we join up our packs?" asked +Nicholas. + +The hounds were joined into one pack, and "Uncle" and Nicholas +rode on side by side. Natasha, muffled up in shawls which did not hide +her eager face and shining eyes, galloped up to them. She was followed +by Petya who always kept close to her, by Michael, a huntsman, and +by a groom appointed to look after her. Petya, who was laughing, +whipped and pulled at his horse. Natasha sat easily and confidently on +her black Arabchik and reined him in without effort with a firm hand. + +"Uncle" looked round disapprovingly at Petya and Natasha. He did not +like to combine frivolity with the serious business of hunting. + +"Good morning, Uncle! We are going too!" shouted Petya. + +"Good morning, good morning! But don't go overriding the hounds," +said "Uncle" sternly. + +"Nicholas, what a fine dog Trunila is! He knew me," said Natasha, +referring to her favorite hound. + +"In the first place, Trunila is not a 'dog,' but a harrier," thought +Nicholas, and looked sternly at his sister, trying to make her feel +the distance that ought to separate them at that moment. Natasha +understood it. + +"You mustn't think we'll be in anyone's way, Uncle," she said. +"We'll go to our places and won't budge." + +"A good thing too, little countess," said "Uncle," "only mind you +don't fall off your horse," he added, "because- that's it, come on!- +you've nothing to hold on to." + +The oasis of the Otradnoe covert came in sight a few hundred yards +off, the huntsmen were already nearing it. Rostov, having finally +settled with "Uncle" where they should set on the hounds, and having +shown Natasha where she was to stand- a spot where nothing could +possibly run out- went round above the ravine. + +"Well, nephew, you're going for a big wolf," said "Uncle." "Mind and +don't let her slip!" + +"That's as may happen," answered Rostov. "Karay, here!" he +shouted, answering "Uncle's" remark by this call to his borzoi. +Karay was a shaggy old dog with a hanging jowl, famous for having +tackled a big wolf unaided. They all took up their places. + +The old count, knowing his son's ardor in the hunt, hurried so as +not to be late, and the hunstmen had not yet reached their places when +Count Ilya Rostov, cheerful, flushed, and with quivering cheeks, drove +up with his black horses over the winter rye to the place reserved for +him, where a wolf might come out. Having straightened his coat and +fastened on his hunting knives and horn, he mounted his good, sleek, +well-fed, and comfortable horse, Viflyanka, which was turning gray, +like himself. His horses and trap were sent home. Count Ilya Rostov, +though not at heart a keen sportsman, knew the rules of the hunt well, +and rode to the bushy edge of the road where he was to stand, arranged +his reins, settled himself in the saddle, and, feeling that he was +ready, looked about with a smile. + +Beside him was Simon Chekmar, his personal attendant, an old +horseman now somewhat stiff in the saddle. Chekmar held in leash three +formidable wolfhounds, who had, however, grown fat like their master +and his horse. Two wise old dogs lay down unleashed. Some hundred +paces farther along the edge of the wood stood Mitka, the count's +other groom, a daring horseman and keen rider to hounds. Before the +hunt, by old custom, the count had drunk a silver cupful of mulled +brandy, taken a snack, and washed it down with half a bottle of his +favorite Bordeaux. + +He was somewhat flushed with the wine and the drive. His eyes were +rather moist and glittered more than usual, and as he sat in his +saddle, wrapped up in his fur coat, he looked like a child taken out +for an outing. + +The thin, hollow-cheeked Chekmar, having got everything ready, +kept glancing at his master with whom he had lived on the best of +terms for thirty years, and understanding the mood he was in +expected a pleasant chat. A third person rode up circumspectly through +the wood (it was plain that he had had a lesson) and stopped behind +the count. This person was a gray-bearded old man in a woman's +cloak, with a tall peaked cap on his head. He was the buffoon, who +went by a woman's name, Nastasya Ivanovna. + +"Well, Nastasya Ivanovna!" whispered the count, winking at him. +"If you scare away the beast, Daniel'll give it you!" + +"I know a thing or two myself!" said Nastasya Ivanovna. + +"Hush!" whispered the count and turned to Simon. "Have you seen +the young countess?" he asked. "Where is she?" + +"With young Count Peter, by the Zharov rank grass," answered +Simon, smiling. "Though she's a lady, she's very fond of hunting." + +"And you're surprised at the way she rides, Simon, eh?" said the +count. "She's as good as many a man!" + +"Of course! It's marvelous. So bold, so easy!" + +"And Nicholas? Where is he? By the Lyadov upland, isn't he?" + +"Yes, sir. He knows where to stand. He understands the matter so +well that Daniel and I are often quite astounded," said Simon, well +knowing what would please his master. + +"Rides well, eh? And how well he looks on his horse, eh?" + +"A perfect picture! How he chased a fox out of the rank grass by the +Zavarzinsk thicket the other day! Leaped a fearful place; what a sight +when they rushed from the covert... the horse worth a thousand +rubles and the rider beyond all price! Yes, one would have to search +far to find another as smart." + +"To search far..." repeated the count, evidently sorry Simon had not +said more. "To search far," he said, turning back the skirt of his +coat to get at his snuffbox. + +"The other day when he came out from Mass in full uniform, Michael +Sidorych..." Simon did not finish, for on the still air he had +distinctly caught the music of the hunt with only two or three +hounds giving tongue. He bent down his head and listened, shaking a +warning finger at his master. "They are on the scent of the cubs... +" he whispered, "straight to the Lyadov uplands." + +The count, forgetting to smooth out the smile on his face, looked +into the distance straight before him, down the narrow open space, +holding the snuffbox in his hand but not taking any. After the cry +of the hounds came the deep tones of the wolf call from Daniel's +hunting horn; the pack joined the first three hounds and they could be +heard in full cry, with that peculiar lift in the note that +indicates that they are after a wolf. The whippers-in no longer set on +the hounds, but changed to the cry of ulyulyu, and above the others +rose Daniel's voice, now a deep bass, now piercingly shrill. His voice +seemed to fill the whole wood and carried far beyond out into the open +field. + +After listening a few moments in silence, the count and his +attendant convinced themselves that the hounds had separated into +two packs: the sound of the larger pack, eagerly giving tongue, +began to die away in the distance, the other pack rushed by the wood +past the count, and it was with this that Daniel's voice was heard +calling ulyulyu. The sounds of both packs mingled and broke apart +again, but both were becoming more distant. + +Simon sighed and stooped to straighten the leash a young borzoi +had entangled; the count too sighed and, noticing the snuffbox in +his hand, opened it and took a pinch. "Back!" cried Simon to a +borzoi that was pushing forward out of the wood. The count started and +dropped the snuffbox. Nastasya Ivanovna dismounted to pick it up. +The count and Simon were looking at him. + +Then, unexpectedly, as often happens, the sound of the hunt suddenly +approached, as if the hounds in full cry and Daniel ulyulyuing were +just in front of them. + +The count turned and saw on his right Mitka staring at him with eyes +starting out of his head, raising his cap and pointing before him to +the other side. + +"Look out!" he shouted, in a voice plainly showing that he had +long fretted to utter that word, and letting the borzois slip he +galloped toward the count. + +The count and Simon galloped out of the wood and saw on their left a +wolf which, softly swaying from side to side, was coming at a quiet +lope farther to the left to the very place where they were standing. +The angry borzois whined and getting free of the leash rushed past the +horses' feet at the wolf. + +The wolf paused, turned its heavy forehead toward the dogs +awkwardly, like a man suffering from the quinsy, and, still slightly +swaying from side to side, gave a couple of leaps and with a swish +of its tail disappeared into the skirt of the wood. At the same +instant, with a cry like a wail, first one hound, then another, and +then another, sprang helter-skelter from the wood opposite and the +whole pack rushed across the field toward the very spot where the wolf +had disappeared. The hazel bushes parted behind the hounds and +Daniel's chestnut horse appeared, dark with sweat. On its long back +sat Daniel, hunched forward, capless, his disheveled gray hair hanging +over his flushed, perspiring face. + +"Ulyulyulyu! ulyulyu!..." he cried. When he caught sight of the +count his eyes flashed lightning. + +"Blast you!" he shouted, holding up his whip threateningly at the +count. + +"You've let the wolf go!... What sportsmen! and as if scorning to +say more to the frightened and shamefaced count, he lashed the heaving +flanks of his sweating chestnut gelding with all the anger the count +had aroused and flew off after the hounds. The count, like a +punished schoolboy, looked round, trying by a smile to win Simon's +sympathy for his plight. But Simon was no longer there. He was +galloping round by the bushes while the field was coming up on both +sides, all trying to head the wolf, but it vanished into the wood +before they could do so. + +CHAPTER V + +Nicholas Rostov meanwhile remained at his post, waiting for the +wolf. By the way the hunt approached and receded, by the cries of +the dogs whose notes were familiar to him, by the way the voices of +the huntsmen approached, receded, and rose, he realized what was +happening at the copse. He knew that young and old wolves were +there, that the hounds had separated into two packs, that somewhere +a wolf was being chased, and that something had gone wrong. He +expected the wolf to come his way any moment. He made thousands of +different conjectures as to where and from what side the beast would +come and how he would set upon it. Hope alternated with despair. +Several times he addressed a prayer to God that the wolf should come +his way. He prayed with that passionate and shame-faced feeling with +which men pray at moments of great excitement arising from trivial +causes. "What would it be to Thee to do this for me?" he said to +God. "I know Thou art great, and that it is a sin to ask this of Thee, +but for God's sake do let the old wolf come my way and let Karay +spring at it- in sight of 'Uncle' who is watching from over there- and +seize it by the throat in a death grip!" A thousand times during +that half-hour Rostov cast eager and restless glances over the edge of +the wood, with the two scraggy oaks rising above the aspen undergrowth +and the gully with its water-worn side and "Uncle's" cap just +visible above the bush on his right. + +"No, I shan't have such luck," thought Rostov, "yet what wouldn't it +be worth! It is not to be! Everywhere, at cards and in war, I am +always unlucky." Memories of Austerlitz and of Dolokhov flashed +rapidly and clearly through his mind. "Only once in my life to get +an old wolf, I want only that!" thought he, straining eyes and ears +and looking to the left and then to the right and listening to the +slightest variation of note in the cries of the dogs. + +Again he looked to the right and saw something running toward him +across the deserted field. "No, it can't be!" thought Rostov, taking a +deep breath, as a man does at the coming of something long hoped +for. The height of happiness was reached- and so simply, without +warning, or noise, or display, that Rostov could not believe his +eyes and remained in doubt for over a second. The wolf ran forward and +jumped heavily over a gully that lay in her path. She was an old +animal with a gray back and big reddish belly. She ran without +hurry, evidently feeling sure that no one saw her. Rostov, holding his +breath, looked round at the borzois. They stood or lay not seeing +the wolf or understanding the situation. Old Karay had turned his head +and was angrily searching for fleas, baring his yellow teeth and +snapping at his hind legs. + +"Ulyulyulyu!" whispered Rostov, pouting his lips. The borzois jumped +up, jerking the rings of the leashes and pricking their ears. Karay +finished scratching his hindquarters and, cocking his ears, got up +with quivering tail from which tufts of matted hair hung down. + +"Shall I loose them or not?" Nicholas asked himself as the wolf +approached him coming from the copse. Suddenly the wolf's whole +physiognomy changed: she shuddered, seeing what she had probably never +seen before- human eyes fixed upon her- and turning her head a +little toward Rostov, she paused. + +"Back or forward? Eh, no matter, forward..." the wolf seemed to +say to herself, and she moved forward without again looking round +and with a quiet, long, easy yet resolute lope. + +"Ulyulyu!" cried Nicholas, in a voice not his own, and of its own +accord his good horse darted headlong downhill, leaping over gullies +to head off the wolf, and the borzois passed it, running faster still. +Nicholas did not hear his own cry nor feel that he was galloping, +nor see the borzois, nor the ground over which he went: he saw only +the wolf, who, increasing her speed, bounded on in the same +direction along the hollow. The first to come into view was Milka, +with her black markings and powerful quarters, gaining upon the +wolf. Nearer and nearer... now she was ahead of it; but the wolf +turned its head to face her, and instead of putting on speed as she +usually did Milka suddenly raised her tail and stiffened her forelegs. + +"Ulyulyulyulyu!" shouted Nicholas. + +The reddish Lyubim rushed forward from behind Milka, sprang +impetuously at the wolf, and seized it by its hindquarters, but +immediately jumped aside in terror. The wolf crouched, gnashed her +teeth, and again rose and bounded forward, followed at the distance of +a couple of feet by all the borzois, who did not get any closer to +her. + +"She'll get away! No, it's impossible!" thought Nicholas, still +shouting with a hoarse voice. + +"Karay, ulyulyu!..." he shouted, looking round for the old borzoi +who was now his only hope. Karay, with all the strength age had left +him, stretched himself to the utmost and, watching the wolf, +galloped heavily aside to intercept it. But the quickness of the +wolf's lope and the borzoi's slower pace made it plain that Karay +had miscalculated. Nicholas could already see not far in front of +him the wood where the wolf would certainly escape should she reach +it. But, coming toward him, he saw hounds and a huntsman galloping +almost straight at the wolf. There was still hope. A long, yellowish +young borzoi, one Nicholas did not know, from another leash, rushed +impetuously at the wolf from in front and almost knocked her over. But +the wolf jumped up more quickly than anyone could have expected and, +gnashing her teeth, flew at the yellowish borzoi, which, with a +piercing yelp, fell with its head on the ground, bleeding from a +gash in its side. + +"Karay? Old fellow!..." wailed Nicholas. + +Thanks to the delay caused by this crossing of the wolf's path, +the old dog with its felted hair hanging from its thigh was within +five paces of it. As if aware of her danger, the wolf turned her +eyes on Karay, tucked her tail yet further between her legs, and +increased her speed. But here Nicholas only saw that something +happened to Karay- the borzoi was suddenly on the wolf, and they +rolled together down into a gully just in front of them. + +That instant, when Nicholas saw the wolf struggling in the gully +with the dogs, while from under them could be seen her gray hair and +outstretched hind leg and her frightened choking head, with her ears +laid back (Karay was pinning her by the throat), was the happiest +moment of his life. With his hand on his saddlebow, he was ready to +dismount and stab the wolf, when she suddenly thrust her head up +from among that mass of dogs, and then her forepaws were on the edge +of the gully. She clicked her teeth (Karay no longer had her by the +throat), leaped with a movement of her hind legs out of the gully, and +having disengaged herself from the dogs, with tail tucked in again, +went forward. Karay, his hair bristling, and probably bruised or +wounded, climbed with difficulty out of the gully. + +"Oh my God! Why?" Nicholas cried in despair. + +"Uncle's" huntsman was galloping from the other side across the +wolf's path and his borzois once more stopped the animal's advance. +She was again hemmed in. + +Nicholas and his attendant, with "Uncle" and his huntsman, were +all riding round the wolf, crying "ulyulyu!" shouting and preparing to +dismount each moment that the wolf crouched back, and starting forward +again every time she shook herself and moved toward the wood where she +would be safe. + +Already, at the beginning of this chase, Daniel, hearing the +ulyulyuing, had rushed out from the wood. He saw Karay seize the wolf, +and checked his horse, supposing the affair to be over. But when he +saw that the horsemen did not dismount and that the wolf shook herself +and ran for safety, Daniel set his chestnut galloping, not at the wolf +but straight toward the wood, just as Karay had run to cut the +animal off. As a result of this, he galloped up to the wolf just +when she had been stopped a second time by "Uncle's" borzois. + +Daniel galloped up silently, holding a naked dagger in his left hand +and thrashing the laboring sides of his chestnut horse with his whip +as if it were a flail. + +Nicholas neither saw nor heard Daniel until the chestnut, +breathing heavily, panted past him, and he heard the fall of a body +and saw Daniel lying on the wolf's back among the dogs, trying to +seize her by the ears. It was evident to the dogs, the hunters, and to +the wolf herself that all was now over. The terrified wolf pressed +back her ears and tried to rise, but the borzois stuck to her. +Daniel rose a little, took a step, and with his whole weight, as if +lying down to rest, fell on the wolf, seizing her by the ears. +Nicholas was about to stab her, but Daniel whispered, "Don't! We'll +gag her!" and, changing his position, set his foot on the wolf's neck. +A stick was thrust between her jaws and she was fastened with a leash, +as if bridled, her legs were bound together, and Daniel rolled her +over once or twice from side to side. + +With happy, exhausted faces, they laid the old wolf, alive, on a +shying and snorting horse and, accompanied by the dogs yelping at her, +took her to the place where they were all to meet. The hounds had +killed two of the cubs and the borzois three. The huntsmen assembled +with their booty and their stories, and all came to look at the +wolf, which, with her broad-browed head hanging down and the bitten +stick between her jaws, gazed with great glassy eyes at this crowd +of dogs and men surrounding her. When she was touched, she jerked +her bound legs and looked wildly yet simply at everybody. Old Count +Rostov also rode up and touched the wolf. + +"Oh, what a formidable one!" said he. "A formidable one, eh?" he +asked Daniel, who was standing near. + +"Yes, your excellency," answered Daniel, quickly doffing his cap. + +The count remembered the wolf he had let slip and his encounter with +Daniel. + +"Ah, but you are a crusty fellow, friend!" said the count. + +For sole reply Daniel gave him a shy, childlike, meek, and amiable +smile. + +CHAPTER VI + +The old count went home, and Natasha and Petya promised to return +very soon, but as it was still early the hunt went farther. At +midday they put the hounds into a ravine thickly overgrown with +young trees. Nicholas standing in a fallow field could see all his +whips. + +Facing him lay a field of winter rye, there his own huntsman stood +alone in a hollow behind a hazel bush. The hounds had scarcely been +loosed before Nicholas heard one he knew, Voltorn, giving tongue at +intervals; other hounds joined in, now pausing and now again giving +tongue. A moment later he heard a cry from the wooded ravine that a +fox had been found, and the whole pack, joining together, rushed along +the ravine toward the ryefield and away from Nicholas. + +He saw the whips in their red caps galloping along the edge of the +ravine, he even saw the hounds, and was expecting a fox to show itself +at any moment on the ryefield opposite. + +The huntsman standing in the hollow moved and loosed his borzois, +and Nicholas saw a queer, short-legged red fox with a fine brush going +hard across the field. The borzois bore down on it.... Now they drew +close to the fox which began to dodge between the field in sharper and +sharper curves, trailing its brush, when suddenly a strange white +borzoi dashed in followed by a black one, and everything was in +confusion; the borzois formed a star-shaped figure, scarcely swaying +their bodies and with tails turned away from the center of the +group. Two huntsmen galloped up to the dogs; one in a red cap, the +other, a stranger, in a green coat. + +"What's this?" thought Nicholas. "Where's that huntsman from? He +is not 'Uncle's' man." + +The huntsmen got the fox, but stayed there a long time without +strapping it to the saddle. Their horses, bridled and with high +saddles, stood near them and there too the dogs were lying. The +huntsmen waved their arms and did something to the fox. Then from that +spot came the sound of a horn, with the signal agreed on in case of +a fight. + +"That's Ilagin's huntsman having a row with our Ivan," said +Nicholas' groom. + +Nicholas sent the man to call Natasha and Petya to him, and rode +at a footpace to the place where the whips were getting the hounds +together. Several of the field galloped to the spot where the fight +was going on. + +Nicholas dismounted, and with Natasha and Petya, who had ridden +up, stopped near the hounds, waiting to see how the matter would +end. Out of the bushes came the huntsman who had been fighting and +rode toward his young master, with the fox tied to his crupper. +While still at a distance he took off his cap and tried to speak +respectfully, but he was pale and breathless and his face was angry. +One of his eyes was black, but he probably was not even aware of it. + +"What has happened?" asked Nicholas. + +"A likely thing, killing a fox our dogs had hunted! And it was my +gray bitch that caught it! Go to law, indeed!... He snatches at the +fox! I gave him one with the fox. Here it is on my saddle! Do you want +a taste of this?..." said the huntsman, pointing to his dagger and +probably imagining himself still speaking to his foe. + +Nicholas, not stopping to talk to the man, asked his sister and +Petya to wait for him and rode to the spot where the enemy's, +Ilagin's, hunting party was. + +The victorious huntsman rode off to join the field, and there, +surrounded by inquiring sympathizers, recounted his exploits. + +The facts were that Ilagin, with whom the Rostovs had a quarrel +and were at law, hunted over places that belonged by custom to the +Rostovs, and had now, as if purposely, sent his men to the very +woods the Rostovs were hunting and let his man snatch a fox their dogs +had chased. + +Nicholas, though he had never seen Ilagin, with his usual absence of +moderation in judgment, hated him cordially from reports of his +arbitrariness and violence, and regarded him as his bitterest foe. +He rode in angry agitation toward him, firmly grasping his whip and +fully prepared to take the most resolute and desperate steps to punish +his enemy. + +Hardly had he passed an angle of the wood before a stout gentleman +in a beaver cap came riding toward him on a handsome raven-black +horse, accompanied by two hunt servants. + +Instead of an enemy, Nicholas found in Ilagin a stately and +courteous gentleman who was particularly anxious to make the young +count's acquaintance. Having ridden up to Nicholas, Ilagin raised +his beaver cap and said he much regretted what had occurred and +would have the man punished who had allowed himself to seize a fox +hunted by someone else's borzois. He hoped to become better acquainted +with the count and invited him to draw his covert. + +Natasha, afraid that her brother would do something dreadful, had +followed him in some excitement. Seeing the enemies exchanging +friendly greetings, she rode up to them. Ilagin lifted his beaver +cap still higher to Natasha and said, with a pleasant smile, that +the young countess resembled Diana in her passion for the chase as +well as in her beauty, of which he had heard much. + +To expiate his huntsman's offense, Ilagin pressed the Rostovs to +come to an upland of his about a mile away which he usually kept for +himself and which, he said, swarmed with hares. Nicholas agreed, and +the hunt, now doubled, moved on. + +The way to Iligin's upland was across the fields. The hunt +servants fell into line. The masters rode together. "Uncle," Rostov, +and Ilagin kept stealthily glancing at one another's dogs, trying +not to be observed by their companions and searching uneasily for +rivals to their own borzois. + +Rostov was particularly struck by the beauty of a small, +pure-bred, red-spotted bitch on Ilagin's leash, slender but with +muscles like steel, a delicate muzzle, and prominent black eyes. He +had heard of the swiftness of Ilagin's borzois, and in that +beautiful bitch saw a rival to his own Milka. + +In the middle of a sober conversation begun by Ilagin about the +year's harvest, Nicholas pointed to the red-spotted bitch. + +"A fine little bitch, that!" said he in a careless tone. "Is she +swift?" + +"That one? Yes, she's a good dog, gets what she's after," answered +Ilagin indifferently, of the red-spotted bitch Erza, for which, a year +before, he had given a neighbor three families of house serfs. "So +in your parts, too, the harvest is nothing to boast of, Count?" he +went on, continuing the conversation they had begun. And considering +it polite to return the young count's compliment, Ilagin looked at his +borzois and picked out Milka who attracted his attention by her +breadth. "That black-spotted one of yours is fine- well shaped!" +said he. + +"Yes, she's fast enough," replied Nicholas, and thought: "If only +a full-grown hare would cross the field now I'd show you what sort +of borzoi she is," and turning to his groom, he said he would give a +ruble to anyone who found a hare. + +"I don't understand," continued Ilagin, "how some sportsmen can be +so jealous about game and dogs. For myself, I can tell you, Count, I +enjoy riding in company such as this... what could be better?" (he +again raised his cap to Natasha) "but as for counting skins and what +one takes, I don't care about that." + +"Of course not!" + +"Or being upset because someone else's borzoi and not mine catches +something. All I care about is to enjoy seeing the chase, is it not +so, Count? For I consider that..." + +"A-tu!" came the long-drawn cry of one of the borzoi whippers-in, +who had halted. He stood on a knoll in the stubble, holding his whip +aloft, and again repeated his long-drawn cry, "A-tu!" (This call and +the uplifted whip meant that he saw a sitting hare.) + +"Ah, he has found one, I think," said Ilagin carelessly. "Yes, we +must ride up.... Shall we both course it?" answered Nicholas, seeing +in Erza and "Uncle's" red Rugay two rivals he had never yet had a +chance of pitting against his own borzois. "And suppose they outdo +my Milka at once!" he thought as he rode with "Uncle" and Ilagin +toward the hare. + +"A full-grown one?" asked Ilagin as he approached the whip who had +sighted the hare- and not without agitation he looked round and +whistled to Erza. + +"And you, Michael Nikanorovich?" he said, addressing "Uncle." + +The latter was riding with a sullen expression on his face. + +"How can I join in? Why, you've given a village for each of your +borzois! That's it, come on! Yours are worth thousands. Try yours +against one another, you two, and I'll look on!" + +"Rugay, hey, hey!" he shouted. "Rugayushka!" he added, involuntarily +by this diminutive expressing his affection and the hopes he placed on +this red borzoi. Natasha saw and felt the agitation the two elderly +men and her brother were trying to conceal, and was herself excited by +it. + +The huntsman stood halfway up the knoll holding up his whip and +the gentlefolk rode up to him at a footpace; the hounds that were +far off on the horizon turned away from the hare, and the whips, but +not the gentlefolk, also moved away. All were moving slowly and +sedately. + +"How is it pointing?" asked Nicholas, riding a hundred paces +toward the whip who had sighted the hare. + +But before the whip could reply, the hare, scenting the frost coming +next morning, was unable to rest and leaped up. The pack on leash +rushed downhill in full cry after the hare, and from all sides the +borzois that were not on leash darted after the hounds and the hare. +All the hunt, who had been moving slowly, shouted, "Stop!" calling +in the hounds, while the borzoi whips, with a cry of "A-tu!"galloped +across the field setting the borzois on the hare. The tranquil Ilagin, +Nicholas, Natasha, and "Uncle" flew, reckless of where and how they +went, seeing only the borzois and the hare and fearing only to lose +sight even for an instant of the chase. The hare they had started +was a strong and swift one. When he jumped up he did not run at +once, but pricked his ears listening to the shouting and trampling +that resounded from all sides at once. He took a dozen bounds, not +very quickly, letting the borzois gain on him, and, finally having +chosen his direction and realized his danger, laid back his ears and +rushed off headlong. He had been lying in the stubble, but in front of +him was the autumn sowing where the ground was soft. The two borzois +of the huntsman who had sighted him, having been the nearest, were the +first to see and pursue him, but they had not gone far before Ilagin's +red-spotted Erza passed them, got within a length, flew at the hare +with terrible swiftness aiming at his scut, and, thinking she had +seized him, rolled over like a ball. The hare arched his back and +bounded off yet more swiftly. From behind Erza rushed the +broad-haunched, black-spotted Milka and began rapidly gaining on the +hare. + +"Milashka, dear!" rose Nicholas' triumphant cry. It looked as if +Milka would immediately pounce on the hare, but she overtook him and +flew past. The hare had squatted. Again the beautiful Erza reached +him, but when close to the hare's scut paused as if measuring the +distance, so as not to make a mistake this time but seize his hind +leg. + +"Erza, darling! Ilagin wailed in a voice unlike his own. Erza did +not hearken to his appeal. At the very moment when she would have +seized her prey, the hare moved and darted along the balk between +the winter rye and the stubble. Again Erza and Milka were abreast, +running like a pair of carriage horses, and began to overtake the +hare, but it was easier for the hare to run on the balk and the +borzois did not overtake him so quickly. + +"Rugay, Rugayushka! That's it, come on!" came a third voice just +then, and "Uncle's" red borzoi, straining and curving its back, caught +up with the two foremost borzois, pushed ahead of them regardless of +the terrible strain, put on speed close to the hare, knocked it off +the balk onto the ryefield, again put on speed still more viciously, +sinking to his knees in the muddy field, and all one could see was +how, muddying his back, he rolled over with the hare. A ring of +borzois surrounded him. A moment later everyone had drawn up round the +crowd of dogs. Only the delighted "Uncle" dismounted, and cut off a +pad, shaking the hare for the blood to drip off, and anxiously +glancing round with restless eyes while his arms and legs twitched. He +spoke without himself knowing whom to or what about. "That's it, +come on! That's a dog!... There, it has beaten them all, the +thousand-ruble as well as the one-ruble borzois. That's it, come +on!" said he, panting and looking wrathfully around as if he were +abusing someone, as if they were all his enemies and had insulted him, +and only now had he at last succeeded in justifying himself. "There +are your thousand-ruble ones.... That's it, come on!..." + +"Rugay, here's a pad for you!" he said, throwing down the hare's +muddy pad. "You've deserved it, that's it, come on!" + +"She'd tired herself out, she'd run it down three times by herself," +said Nicholas, also not listening to anyone and regardless of +whether he were heard or not. + +"But what is there in running across it like that?" said Ilagin's +groom. + +"Once she had missed it and turned it away, any mongrel could take +it," Ilagin was saying at the same time, breathless from his gallop +and his excitement. At the same moment Natasha, without drawing +breath, screamed joyously, ecstatically, and so piercingly that it set +everyone's ear tingling. By that shriek she expressed what the +others expressed by all talking at once, and it was so strange that +she must herself have been ashamed of so wild a cry and everyone +else would have been amazed at it at any other time. "Uncle" himself +twisted up the hare, threw it neatly and smartly across his horse's +back as if by that gesture he meant to rebuke everybody, and, with +an air of not wishing to speak to anyone, mounted his bay and rode +off. The others all followed, dispirited and shamefaced, and only much +later were they able to regain their former affectation of +indifference. For a long time they continued to look at red Rugay who, +his arched back spattered with mud and clanking the ring of his leash, +walked along just behind "Uncle's" horse with the serene air of a +conqueror. + +"Well, I am like any other dog as long as it's not a question of +coursing. But when it is, then look out!" his appearance seem to +Nicholas to be saying. + +When, much later, "Uncle" rode up to Nicholas and began talking to +him, he felt flattered that, after what had happened, "Uncle" +deigned to speak to him. + +CHAPTER VII + +Toward evening Ilagin took leave of Nicholas, who found that they +were so far from home that he accepted "Uncle's" offer that the +hunting party should spend the night in his little village of +Mikhaylovna. + +"And if you put up at my house that will be better still. That's it, +come on!" said "Uncle." "You see it's damp weather, and you could +rest, and the little countess could be driven home in a trap." + +"Uncle's" offer was accepted. A huntsman was sent to Otradnoe for +a trap, while Nicholas rode with Natasha and Petya to "Uncle's" house. + +Some five male domestic serfs, big and little, rushed out to the +front porch to meet their master. A score of women serfs, old and +young, as well as children, popped out from the back entrance to +have a look at the hunters who were arriving. The presence of Natasha- +a woman, a lady, and on horseback- raised the curiosity of the serfs +to such a degree that many of them came up to her, stared her in the +face, and unabashed by her presence made remarks about her as though +she were some prodigy on show and not a human being able to hear or +understand what was said about her. + +"Arinka! Look, she sits sideways! There she sits and her skirt +dangles.... See, she's got a little hunting horn!" + +"Goodness gracious! See her knife?..." + +"Isn't she a Tartar!" + +"How is it you didn't go head over heels?" asked the boldest of all, +addressing Natasha directly. + +"Uncle" dismounted at the porch of his little wooden house which +stood in the midst of an overgrown garden and, after a glance at his +retainers, shouted authoritatively that the superfluous ones should +take themselves off and that all necessary preparations should be made +to receive the guests and the visitors. + +The serfs all dispersed. "Uncle" lifted Natasha off her horse and +taking her hand led her up the rickety wooden steps of the porch. +The house, with its bare, unplastered log walls, was not overclean- it +did not seem that those living in it aimed at keeping it spotless- but +neither was it noticeably neglected. In the entry there was a smell of +fresh apples, and wolf and fox skins hung about. + +"Uncle" led the visitors through the anteroom into a small hall with +a folding table and red chairs, then into the drawing room with a +round birchwood table and a sofa, and finally into his private room +where there was a tattered sofa, a worn carpet, and portraits of +Suvorov, of the host's father and mother, and of himself in military +uniform. The study smelt strongly of tobacco and dogs. "Uncle" asked +his visitors to sit down and make themselves at home, and then went +out of the room. Rugay, his back still muddy, came into the room and +lay down on the sofa, cleaning himself with his tongue and teeth. +Leading from the study was a passage in which a partition with +ragged curtains could be seen. From behind this came women's +laughter and whispers. Natasha, Nicholas, and Petya took off their +wraps and sat down on the sofa. Petya, leaning on his elbow, fell +asleep at once. Natasha and Nicholas were silent. Their faces +glowed, they were hungry and very cheerful. They looked at one another +(now that the hunt was over and they were in the house, Nicholas no +longer considered it necessary to show his manly superiority over +his sister), Natasha gave him a wink, and neither refrained long +from bursting into a peal of ringing laughter even before they had a +pretext ready to account for it. + +After a while "Uncle" came in, in a Cossack coat, blue trousers, and +small top boots. And Natasha felt that this costume, the very one +she had regarded with surprise and amusement at Otradnoe, was just the +right thing and not at all worse than a swallow-tail or frock coat. +"Uncle" too was in high spirits and far from being offended by the +brother's and sister's laughter (it could never enter his head that +they might be laughing at his way of life) he himself joined in the +merriment. + +"That's right, young countess, that's it, come on! I never saw +anyone like her!" said he, offering Nicholas a pipe with a long stem +and, with a practiced motion of three fingers, taking down another +that had been cut short. "She's ridden all day like a man, and is as +fresh as ever! + +Soon after "Uncle's" reappearance the door was opened, evidently +from the sound by a barefooted girl, and a stout, rosy, good-looking +woman of about forty, with a double chin and full red lips, entered +carrying a large loaded tray. With hospitable dignity and cordiality +in her glance and in every motion, she looked at the visitors and, +with a pleasant smile, bowed respectfully. In spite of her exceptional +stoutness, which caused her to protrude her chest and stomach and +throw back her head, this woman (who was "Uncle's" housekeeper) trod +very lightly. She went to the table, set down the tray, and with her +plump white hands deftly took from it the bottles and various hors +d'oeuvres and dishes and arranged them on the table. When she had +finished, she stepped aside and stopped at the door with a smile on +her face. "Here I am. I am she! Now do you understand 'Uncle'?" her +expression said to Rostov. How could one help understanding? Not +only Nicholas, but even Natasha understood the meaning of his puckered +brow and the happy complacent smile that slightly puckered his lips +when Anisya Fedorovna entered. On the tray was a bottle of herb +wine, different kinds of vodka, pickled mushrooms, rye cakes made with +buttermilk, honey in the comb, still mead and sparkling mead, +apples, nuts (raw and roasted), and nut-and-honey sweets. Afterwards +she brought a freshly roasted chicken, ham, preserves made with honey, +and preserves made with sugar. + +All this was the fruit of Anisya Fedorovna's housekeeping, +gathered and prepared by her. The smell and taste of it all had a +smack of Anisya Fedorovna herself: a savor of juiciness, +cleanliness, whiteness, and pleasant smiles. + +"Take this, little Lady-Countess!" she kept saying, as she offered +Natasha first one thing and then another. + +Natasha ate of everything and thought she had never seen or eaten +such buttermilk cakes, such aromatic jam, such honey-and-nut sweets, +or such a chicken anywhere. Anisya Fedorovna left the room. + +After supper, over their cherry brandy, Rostov and "Uncle" talked of +past and future hunts, of Rugay and Ilagin's dogs, while Natasha sat +upright on the sofa and listened with sparkling eyes. She tried +several times to wake Petya that he might eat something, but he only +muttered incoherent words without waking up. Natasha felt so +lighthearted and happy in these novel surroundings that she only +feared the trap would come for her too soon. After a casual pause, +such as often occurs when receiving friends for the first time in +one's own house, "Uncle," answering a thought that was in his +visitors' mind, said: + +"This, you see, is how I am finishing my days... Death will come. +That's it, come on! Nothing will remain. Then why harm anyone?" + +"Uncle's" face was very significant and even handsome as he said +this. Involuntarily Rostov recalled all the good he had heard about +him from his father and the neighbors. Throughout the whole province +"Uncle" had the reputation of being the most honorable and +disinterested of cranks. They called him in to decide family disputes, +chose him as executor, confided secrets to him, elected him to be a +justice and to other posts; but he always persistently refused +public appointments, passing the autumn and spring in the fields on +his bay gelding, sitting at home in winter, and lying in his overgrown +garden in summer. + +"Why don't you enter the service, Uncle?" + +"I did once, but gave it up. I am not fit for it. That's it, come +on! I can't make head or tail of it. That's for you- I haven't +brains enough. Now, hunting is another matter- that's it, come on! +Open the door, there!" he shouted. "Why have you shut it?" + +The door at the end of the passage led to the huntsmen's room, as +they called the room for the hunt servants. + +There was a rapid patter of bare feet, and an unseen hand opened the +door into the huntsmen's room, from which came the clear sounds of a +balalayka on which someone, who was evidently a master of the art, was +playing. Natasha had been listening to those strains for some time and +now went out into the passage to hear better. + +"That's Mitka, my coachman.... I have got him a good balalayka. +I'm fond of it," said "Uncle." + +It was the custom for Mitka to play the balalayka in the +huntsmen's room when "Uncle" returned from the chase. "Uncle" was fond +of such music. + +"How good! Really very good!" said Nicholas with some +unintentional superciliousness, as if ashamed to confess that the +sounds pleased him very much. + +"Very good?" said Natasha reproachfully, noticing her brother's +tone. "Not 'very good' it's simply delicious!" + +Just as "Uncle's" pickled mushrooms, honey, and cherry brandy had +seemed to her the best in the world, so also that song, at that +moment, seemed to her the acme of musical delight. + +"More, please, more!" cried Natasha at the door as soon as the +balalayka ceased. Mitka tuned up afresh, and recommenced thrumming the +balalayka to the air of My Lady, with trills and variations. "Uncle" +sat listening, slightly smiling, with his head on one side. The air +was repeated a hundred times. The balalayka was retuned several +times and the same notes were thrummed again, but the listeners did +not grow weary of it and wished to hear it again and again. Anisya +Fedorovna came in and leaned her portly person against the doorpost. + +"You like listening?" she said to Natasha, with a smile extremely +like "Uncle's." "That's a good player of ours," she added. + +"He doesn't play that part right!" said "Uncle" suddenly, with an +energetic gesture. "Here he ought to burst out- that's it, come on!- +ought to burst out." + +"Do you play then?" asked Natasha. + +"Uncle" did not answer, but smiled. + +"Anisya, go and see if the strings of my guitar are all right. I +haven't touched it for a long time. That's it- come on! I've given +it up." + +Anisya Fedorovna, with her light step, willingly went to fulfill her +errand and brought back the guitar. + +Without looking at anyone, "Uncle" blew the dust off it and, tapping +the case with his bony fingers, tuned the guitar and settled himself +in his armchair. He took the guitar a little above the fingerboard, +arching his left elbow with a somewhat theatrical gesture, and, with a +wink at Anisya Fedorovna, struck a single chord, pure and sonorous, +and then quietly, smoothly, and confidently began playing in very slow +time, not My Lady, but the well-known song: Came a maiden down the +street. The tune, played with precision and in exact time, began to +thrill in the hearts of Nicholas and Natasha, arousing in them the +same kind of sober mirth as radiated from Anisya Fedorovna's whole +being. Anisya Fedorovna flushed, and drawing her kerchief over her +face went laughing out of the room. "Uncle" continued to play +correctly, carefully, with energetic firmness, looking with a +changed and inspired expression at the spot where Anisya Fedorovna had +just stood. Something seemed to be laughing a little on one side of +his face under his gray mustaches, especially as the song grew brisker +and the time quicker and when, here and there, as he ran his fingers +over the strings, something seemed to snap. + +"Lovely, lovely! Go on, Uncle, go on!" shouted Natasha as soon as he +had finished. She jumped up and hugged and kissed him. "Nicholas, +Nicholas!" she said, turning to her brother, as if asking him: "What +is it moves me so?" + +Nicholas too was greatly pleased by "Uncle's" playing, and "Uncle" +played the piece over again. Anisya Fedorovna's smiling face +reappeared in the doorway and behind hers other faces... + +_1 Fetching water clear and sweet,<br> +Stop, dear maiden, I entreat- + +played "Uncle" once more, running his fingers skillfully over the +strings, and then he stopped short and jerked his shoulders. + +"Go on, Uncle dear," Natasha wailed in an imploring tone as if her +life depended on it. + +"Uncle" rose, and it was as if there were two men in him: one of +them smiled seriously at the merry fellow, while the merry fellow +struck a naive and precise attitude preparatory to a folk dance. + +"Now then, niece!" he exclaimed, waving to Natasha the hand that had +just struck a chord. + +Natasha threw off the shawl from her shoulders, ran forward to +face "Uncle," and setting her arms akimbo also made a motion with +her shoulders and struck an attitude. + +Where, how, and when had this young countess, educated by an emigree +French governess, imbibed from the Russian air she breathed that +spirit and obtained that manner which the pas de chale~^ would, one +would have supposed, long ago have effaced? But the spirit and the +movements were those inimitable and unteachable Russian ones that +"Uncle" had expected of her. As soon as she had struck her pose, and +smiled triumphantly, proudly, and with sly merriment, the fear that +had at first seized Nicholas and the others that she might not do +the right thing was at an end, and they were already admiring her. + +^~ The French shawl dance. + +She did the right thing with such precision, such complete +precision, that Anisya Fedorovna, who had at once handed her the +handkerchief she needed for the dance, had tears in her eyes, though +she laughed as she watched this slim, graceful countess, reared in +silks and velvets and so different from herself, who yet was able to +understand all that was in Anisya and in Anisya's father and mother +and aunt, and in every Russian man and woman. + +"Well, little countess; that's it- come on!" cried "Uncle," with a +joyous laugh, having finished the dance. "Well done, niece! Now a fine +young fellow must be found as husband for you. That's it- come on!" + +"He's chosen already," said Nicholas smiling. + +"Oh?" said "Uncle" in surprise, looking inquiringly at Natasha, +who nodded her head with a happy smile. + +"And such a one!" she said. But as soon as she had said it a new +train of thoughts and feelings arose in her. "What did Nicholas' smile +mean when he said 'chosen already'? Is he glad of it or not? It is +as if he thought my Bolkonski would not approve of or understand our +gaiety. But he would understand it all. Where is he now?" she thought, +and her face suddenly became serious. But this lasted only a second. +"Don't dare to think about it," she said to herself, and sat down +again smilingly beside "Uncle," begging him to play something more. + +"Uncle" played another song and a valse; then after a pause he +cleared his throat and sang his favorite hunting song: + +_1 As 'twas growing dark last night<br> +Fell the snow so soft and light... + +"Uncle" sang as peasants sing, with full and naive conviction that +the whole meaning of a song lies in the words and that the tune +comes of itself, and that apart from the words there is no tune, which +exists only to give measure to the words. As a result of this the +unconsidered tune, like the song of a bird, was extraordinarily +good. Natasha was in ecstasies over "Uncle's" singing. She resolved to +give up learning the harp and to play only the guitar. She asked +"Uncle" for his guitar and at once found the chords of the song. + +After nine o'clock two traps and three mounted men, who had been +sent to look for them, arrived to fetch Natasha and Petya. The count +and countess did not know where they were and were very anxious, +said one of the men. + +Petya was carried out like a log and laid in the larger of the two +traps. Natasha and Nicholas got into the other. "Uncle" wrapped +Natasha up warmly and took leave of her with quite a new tenderness. +He accompanied them on foot as far as the bridge that could not be +crossed, so that they had to go round by the ford, and he sent +huntsmen to ride in front with lanterns. + +"Good-by, dear niece," his voice called out of the darkness- not the +voice Natasha had known previously, but the one that had sung As 'twas +growing dark last night. + +In the village through which they passed there were red lights and a +cheerful smell of smoke. + +"What a darling Uncle is!" said Natasha, when they had come out onto +the highroad. + +"Yes," returned Nicholas. "You're not cold?" + +"No. I'm quite, quite all right. I feel so comfortable!" answered +Natasha, almost perplexed by her feelings. They remained silent a long +while. The night was dark and damp. They could not see the horses, but +only heard them splashing through the unseen mud. + +What was passing in that receptive childlike soul that so eagerly +caught and assimilated all the diverse impressions of life? How did +they all find place in her? But she was very happy. As they were +nearing home she suddenly struck up the air of As 'twas growing dark +last night- the tune of which she had all the way been trying to get +and had at last caught. + +"Got it?" said Nicholas. + +"What were you thinking about just now, Nicholas?" inquired Natasha. + +They were fond of asking one another that question. + +"I?" said Nicholas, trying to remember. "Well, you see, first I +thought that Rugay, the red hound, was like Uncle, and that if he were +a man he would always keep Uncle near him, if not for his riding, then +for his manner. What a good fellow Uncle is! Don't you think so?... +Well, and you?" + +"I? Wait a bit, wait.... Yes, first I thought that we are driving +along and imagining that we are going home, but that heaven knows +where we are really going in the darkness, and that we shall arrive +and suddenly find that we are not in Otradnoe, but in Fairyland. And +then I thought... No, nothing else." + +"I know, I expect you thought of him," said Nicholas, smiling as +Natasha knew by the sound of his voice. + +"No," said Natasha, though she had in reality been thinking about +Prince Andrew at the same time as of the rest, and of how he would +have liked "Uncle." "And then I was saying to myself all the way, 'How +well Anisya carried herself, how well!'" And Nicholas heard her +spontaneous, happy, ringing laughter. "And do you know," she +suddenly said, "I know that I shall never again be as happy and +tranquil as I am now." + +"Rubbish, nonsense, humbug!" exclaimed Nicholas, and he thought: +"How charming this Natasha of mine is! I have no other friend like her +and never shall have. Why should she marry? We might always drive +about together! + +"What a darling this Nicholas of mine is!" thought Natasha. + +"Ah, there are still lights in the drawingroom!" she said, +pointing to the windows of the house that gleamed invitingly in the +moist velvety darkness of the night. + +CHAPTER VIII + +Count Ilya Rostov had resigned the position of Marshal of the +Nobility because it involved him in too much expense, but still his +affairs did not improve. Natasha and Nicholas often noticed their +parents conferring together anxiously and privately and heard +suggestions of selling the fine ancestral Rostov house and estate near +Moscow. It was not necessary to entertain so freely as when the +count had been Marshal, and life at Otradnoe was quieter than in +former years, but still the enormous house and its lodges were full of +people and more than twenty sat down to table every day. These were +all their own people who had settled down in the house almost as +members of the family, or persons who were, it seemed, obliged to live +in the count's house. Such were Dimmler the musician and his wife, +Vogel the dancing master and his family, Belova, an old maiden lady, +an inmate of the house, and many others such as Petya's tutors, the +girls' former governess, and other people who simply found it +preferable and more advantageous to live in the count's house than +at home. They had not as many visitors as before, but the old habits +of life without which the count and countess could not conceive of +existence remained unchanged. There was still the hunting +establishment which Nicholas had even enlarged, the same fifty +horses and fifteen grooms in the stables, the same expensive +presents and dinner parties to the whole district on name days; +there were still the count's games of whist and boston, at which- +spreading out his cards so that everybody could see them- he let +himself be plundered of hundreds of rubles every day by his neighbors, +who looked upon an opportunity to play a rubber with Count Rostov as a +most profitable source of income. + +The count moved in his affairs as in a huge net, trying not to +believe that he was entangled but becoming more and more so at every +step, and feeling too feeble to break the meshes or to set to work +carefully and patiently to disentangle them. The countess, with her +loving heart, felt that her children were being ruined, that it was +not the count's fault for he could not help being what he was- that +(though he tried to hide it) he himself suffered from the +consciousness of his own and his children's ruin, and she tried to +find means of remedying the position. From her feminine point of +view she could see only one solution, namely, for Nicholas to marry +a rich heiress. She felt this to be their last hope and that if +Nicholas refused the match she had found for him, she would have to +abandon the hope of ever getting matters right. This match was with +Julie Karagina, the daughter of excellent and virtuous parents, a girl +the Rostovs had known from childhood, and who had now become a wealthy +heiress through the death of the last of her brothers. + +The countess had written direct to Julie's mother in Moscow +suggesting a marriage between their children and had received a +favorable answer from her. Karagina had replied that for her part +she was agreeable, and everything depend on her daughter's +inclination. She invited Nicholas to come to Moscow. + +Several times the countess, with tears in her eyes, told her son +that now both her daughters were settled, her only wish was to see him +married. She said she could lie down in her grave peacefully if that +were accomplished. Then she told him that she knew of a splendid +girl and tried to discover what he thought about marriage. + +At other times she praised Julie to him and advised him to go to +Moscow during the holidays to amuse himself. Nicholas guessed what his +mother's remarks were leading to and during one of these conversations +induced her to speak quite frankly. She told him that her only hope of +getting their affairs disentangled now lay in his marrying Julie +Karagina. + +"But, Mamma, suppose I loved a girl who has no fortune, would you +expect me to sacrifice my feelings and my honor for the sake of +money?" he asked his mother, not realizing the cruelty of his question +and only wishing to show his noble-mindedness. + +"No, you have not understood me," said his mother, not knowing how +to justify herself. "You have not understood me, Nikolenka. It is your +happiness I wish for," she added, feeling that she was telling an +untruth and was becoming entangled. She began to cry. + +"Mamma, don't cry! Only tell me that you wish it, and you know I +will give my life, anything, to put you at ease," said Nicholas. "I +would sacrifice anything for you- even my feelings." + +But the countess did not want the question put like that: she did +not want a sacrifice from her son, she herself wished to make a +sacrifice for him. + +"No, you have not understood me, don't let us talk about it," she +replied, wiping away her tears. + +"Maybe I do love a poor girl," said Nicholas to himself. "Am I to +sacrifice my feelings and my honor for money? I wonder how Mamma could +speak so to me. Because Sonya is poor I must not love her," he +thought, "must not respond to her faithful, devoted love? Yet I should +certainly be happier with her than with some doll-like Julie. I can +always sacrifice my feelings for my family's welfare," he said to +himself, "but I can't coerce my feelings. If I love Sonya, that +feeling is for me stronger and higher than all else." + +Nicholas did not go to Moscow, and the countess did not renew the +conversation with him about marriage. She saw with sorrow, and +sometimes with exasperation, symptoms of a growing attachment +between her son and the portionless Sonya. Though she blamed herself +for it, she could not refrain from grumbling at and worrying Sonya, +often pulling her up without reason, addressing her stiffly as "my +dear," and using the formal "you" instead of the intimate "thou" in +speaking to her. The kindhearted countess was the more vexed with +Sonya because that poor, dark-eyed niece of hers was so meek, so kind, +so devotedly grateful to her benefactors, and so faithfully, +unchangingly, and unselfishly in love with Nicholas, that there were +no grounds for finding fault with her. + +Nicholas was spending the last of his leave at home. A fourth letter +had come from Prince Andrew, from Rome, in which he wrote that he +would have been on his way back to Russia long ago had not his wound +unexpectedly reopened in the warm climate, which obliged him to +defer his return till the beginning of the new year. Natasha was still +as much in love with her betrothed, found the same comfort in that +love, and was still as ready to throw herself into all the pleasures +of life as before; but at the end of the fourth month of their +separation she began to have fits of depression which she could not +master. She felt sorry for herself: sorry that she was being wasted +all this time and of no use to anyone- while she felt herself so +capable of loving and being loved. + +Things were not cheerful in the Rostovs' home. + +CHAPTER IX + +Christmas came and except for the ceremonial Mass, the solemn and +wearisome Christmas congratulations from neighbors and servants, and +the new dresses everyone put on, there were no special festivities, +though the calm frost of twenty degrees Reaumur, the dazzling sunshine +by day, and the starlight of the winter nights seemed to call for some +special celebration of the season. + +On the third day of Christmas week, after the midday dinner, all the +inmates of the house dispersed to various rooms. It was the dullest +time of the day. Nicholas, who had been visiting some neighbors that +morning, was asleep on the sitting-room sofa. The old count was +resting in his study. Sonya sat in the drawing room at the round +table, copying a design for embroidery. The countess was playing +patience. Nastasya Ivanovna the buffoon sat with a sad face at the +window with two old ladies. Natasha came into the room, went up to +Sonya, glanced at what she was doing, and then went up to her mother +and stood without speaking. + +"Why are you wandering about like an outcast?" asked her mother. +"What do you want?" + +"Him... I want him... now, this minute! I want him!" said Natasha, +with glittering eyes and no sign of a smile. + +The countess lifted her head and looked attentively at her daughter. + +"Don't look at me, Mamma! Don't look; I shall cry directly." + +"Sit down with me a little," said the countess. + +"Mamma, I want him. Why should I be wasted like this, Mamma?" + +Her voice broke, tears gushed from her eyes, and she turned +quickly to hide them and left the room. + +She passed into the sitting room, stood there thinking awhile, and +then went into the maids' room. There an old maidservant was grumbling +at a young girl who stood panting, having just run in through the cold +from the serfs' quarters. + +"Stop playing- there's a time for everything," said the old woman. + +"Let her alone, Kondratevna," said Natasha. "Go, Mavrushka, go." + +Having released Mavrushka, Natasha crossed the dancing hall and went +to the vestibule. There an old footman and two young ones were playing +cards. They broke off and rose as she entered. + +"What can I do with them?" thought Natasha. + +"Oh, Nikita, please go... where can I send him?... Yes, go to the +yard and fetch a fowl, please, a cock, and you, Misha, bring me some +oats." + +"Just a few oats?" said Misha, cheerfully and readily. + +"Go, go quickly," the old man urged him. + +"And you, Theodore, get me a piece of chalk." + +On her way past the butler's pantry she told them to set a +samovar, though it was not at all the time for tea. + +Foka, the butler, was the most ill-tempered person in the house. +Natasha liked to test her power over him. He distrusted the order +and asked whether the samovar was really wanted. + +"Oh dear, what a young lady!" said Foka, pretending to frown at +Natasha. + +No one in the house sent people about or gave them as much trouble +as Natasha did. She could not see people unconcernedly, but had to +send them on some errand. She seemed to be trying whether any of +them would get angry or sulky with her; but the serfs fulfilled no +one's orders so readily as they did hers. "What can I do, where can +I go?" thought she, as she went slowly along the passage. + +"Nastasya Ivanovna, what sort of children shall I have?" she asked +the buffoon, who was coming toward her in a woman's jacket. + +"Why, fleas, crickets, grasshoppers," answered the buffoon. + +"O Lord, O Lord, it's always the same! Oh, where am I to go? What am +I to do with myself?" And tapping with her heels, she ran quickly +upstairs to see Vogel and his wife who lived on the upper story. + +Two governesses were sitting with the Vogels at a table, on which +were plates of raisins, walnuts, and almonds. The governesses were +discussing whether it was cheaper to live in Moscow or Odessa. Natasha +sat down, listened to their talk with a serious and thoughtful air, +and then got up again. + +"The island of Madagascar," she said, "Ma-da-gas-car," she repeated, +articulating each syllable distinctly, and, not replying to Madame +Schoss who asked her what she was saying, she went out of the room. + +Her brother Petya was upstairs too; with the man in attendance on +him he was preparing fireworks to let off that night. + +"Petya! Petya!" she called to him. "Carry me downstairs." + +Petya ran up and offered her his back. She jumped on it, putting her +arms round his neck, and he pranced along with her. + +"No, don't... the island of Madagascar!" she said, and jumping off +his back she went downstairs. + +Having as it were reviewed her kingdom, tested her power, and made +sure that everyone was submissive, but that all the same it was +dull, Natasha betook herself to the ballroom, picked up her guitar, +sat down in a dark corner behind a bookcase, and began to run her +fingers over the strings in the bass, picking out a passage she +recalled from an opera she had heard in Petersburg with Prince Andrew. +What she drew from the guitar would have had no meaning for other +listeners, but in her imagination a whole series of reminiscences +arose from those sounds. She sat behind the bookcase with her eyes +fixed on a streak of light escaping from the pantry door and +listened to herself and pondered. She was in a mood for brooding on +the past. + +Sonya passed to the pantry with a glass in her hand. Natasha glanced +at her and at the crack in the pantry door, and it seemed to her +that she remembered the light failing through that crack once before +and Sonya passing with a glass in her hand. "Yes it was exactly the +same," thought Natasha. + +"Sonya, what is this?" she cried, twanging a thick string. + +"Oh, you are there!" said Sonya with a start, and came near and +listened. "I don't know. A storm?" she ventured timidly, afraid of +being wrong. + +"There! That's just how she started and just how she came up smiling +timidly when all this happened before," thought Natasha, "and in +just the same way I thought there was something lacking in her." + +"No, it's the chorus from The Water-Carrier, listen! " and Natasha +sang the air of the chorus so that Sonya should catch it. "Where +were you going?" she asked. + +"To change the water in this glass. I am just finishing the design." + +"You always find something to do, but I can't," said Natasha. "And +where's Nicholas?" + +"Asleep, I think." + +"Sonya, go and wake him," said Natasha. "Tell him I want him to come +and sing." + +She sat awhile, wondering what the meaning of it all having happened +before could be, and without solving this problem, or at all +regretting not having done so, she again passed in fancy to the time +when she was with him and he was looking at her with a lover's eyes. + +"Oh, if only he would come quicker! I am so afraid it will never be! +And, worst of all, I am growing old- that's the thing! There won't +then be in me what there is now. But perhaps he'll come today, will +come immediately. Perhaps he has come and is sitting in the drawing +room. Perhaps he came yesterday and I have forgotten it." She rose, +put down the guitar, and went to the drawing room. + +All the domestic circle, tutors, governesses, and guests, were +already at the tea table. The servants stood round the table- but +Prince Andrew was not there and life was going on as before. + +"Ah, here she is!" said the old count, when he saw Natasha enter. +"Well, sit down by me." But Natasha stayed by her mother and glanced +round as if looking for something. + +"Mamma!" she muttered, "give him to me, give him, Mamma, quickly, +quickly!" and she again had difficulty in repressing her sobs. + +She sat down at the table and listened to the conversation between +the elders and Nicholas, who had also come to the table. "My God, my +God! The same faces, the same talk, Papa holding his cup and blowing +in the same way!" thought Natasha, feeling with horror a sense of +repulsion rising up in her for the whole household, because they +were always the same. + +After tea, Nicholas, Sonya, and Natasha went to the sitting room, to +their favorite corner where their most intimate talks always began. + +CHAPTER X + +Does it ever happen to you," said Natasha to her brother, when +they settled down in the sitting room, "does it ever happen to you +to feel as if there were nothing more to come- nothing; that +everything good is past? And to feel not exactly dull, but sad?" + +"I should think so!" he replied. "I have felt like that when +everything was all right and everyone was cheerful. The thought has +come into my mind that I was already tired of it all, and that we must +all die. Once in the regiment I had not gone to some merrymaking where +there was music... and suddenly I felt so depressed..." + +"Oh yes, I know, I know, I know!" Natasha interrupted him. "When I +was quite little that used to be so with me. Do you remember when I +was punished once about some plums? You were all dancing, and I sat +sobbing in the schoolroom? I shall never forget it: I felt sad and +sorry for everyone, for myself, and for everyone. And I was +innocent- that was the chief thing," said Natasha. "Do you remember?" + +"I remember," answered Nicholas. "I remember that I came to you +afterwards and wanted to comfort you, but do you know, I felt +ashamed to. We were terribly absurd. I had a funny doll then and +wanted to give it to you. Do you remember?" + +"And do you remember," Natasha asked with a pensive smile, "how +once, long, long ago, when we were quite little, Uncle called us +into the study- that was in the old house- and it was dark- we went in +and suddenly there stood..." + +"A Negro," chimed in Nicholas with a smile of delight. "Of course +I remember. Even now I don't know whether there really was a Negro, or +if we only dreamed it or were told about him." + +"He was gray, you remember, and had white teeth, and stood and +looked at us..." + +"Sonya, do you remember?" asked Nicholas. + +"Yes, yes, I do remember something too," Sonya answered timidly. + +"You know I have asked Papa and Mamma about that Negro," said +Natasha, "and they say there was no Negro at all. But you see, you +remember!" + +"Of course I do, I remember his teeth as if I had just seen them." + +"How strange it is! It's as if it were a dream! I like that." + +"And do you remember how we rolled hard-boiled eggs in the ballroom, +and suddenly two old women began spinning round on the carpet? Was +that real or not? Do you remember what fun it was?" + +"Yes, and you remember how Papa in his blue overcoat fired a gun +in the porch?" + +So they went through their memories, smiling with pleasure: not +the sad memories of old age, but poetic, youthful ones- those +impressions of one's most distant past in which dreams and realities +blend- and they laughed with quiet enjoyment. + +Sonya, as always, did not quite keep pace with them, though they +shared the same reminiscences. + +Much that they remembered had slipped from her mind, and what she +recalled did not arouse the same poetic feeling as they experienced. +She simply enjoyed their pleasure and tried to fit in with it. + +She only really took part when they recalled Sonya's first +arrival. She told them how afraid she had been of Nicholas because +he had on a corded jacket and her nurse had told her that she, too, +would be sewn up with cords. + +"And I remember their telling me that you had been born under a +cabbage," said Natasha, and I remember that I dared not disbelieve +it then, but knew that it was not true, and I felt so uncomfortable." + +While they were talking a maid thrust her head in at the other +door of the sitting room. + +"They have brought the cock, Miss," she said in a whisper. + +"It isn't wanted, Petya. Tell them to take it away," replied +Natasha. + +In the middle of their talk in the sitting room, Dimmler came in and +went up to the harp that stood there in a corner. He took off its +cloth covering, and the harp gave out a jarring sound. + +"Mr. Dimmler, please play my favorite nocturne by Field," came the +old countess' voice from the drawing room. + +Dimmler struck a chord and, turning to Natasha, Nicholas, and Sonya, +remarked: "How quiet you young people are!" + +"Yes, we're philosophizing," said Natasha, glancing round for a +moment and then continuing the conversation. They were now +discussing dreams. + +Dimmler began to play; Natasha went on tiptoe noiselessly to the +table, took up a candle, carried it out, and returned, seating herself +quietly in her former place. It was dark in the room especially +where they were sitting on the sofa, but through the big windows the +silvery light of the full moon fell on the floor. Dimmler had finished +the piece but still sat softly running his fingers over the strings, +evidently uncertain whether to stop or to play something else. + +"Do you know," said Natasha in a whisper, moving closer to +Nicholas and Sonya, "that when one goes on and on recalling +memories, one at last begins to remember what happened before one +was in the world..." + +"That is metempsychosis," said Sonya, who had always learned well, +and remembered everything. "The Egyptians believed that our souls have +lived in animals, and will go back into animals again." + +"No, I don't believe we ever were in animals," said Natasha, still +in a whisper though the music had ceased. "But I am certain that we +were angels somewhere there, and have been here, and that is why we +remember...." + +"May I join you?" said Dimmler who had come up quietly, and he sat +down by them. + +"If we have been angels, why have we fallen lower?" said Nicholas. +"No, that can't be!" + +"Not lower, who said we were lower?... How do I know what I was +before?" Natasha rejoined with conviction. "The soul is immortal- well +then, if I shall always live I must have lived before, lived for a +whole eternity." + +"Yes, but it is hard for us to imagine eternity," remarked +Dimmler, who had joined the young folk with a mildly condescending +smile but now spoke as quietly and seriously as they. + +"Why is it hard to imagine eternity?" said Natasha. "It is now +today, and it will be tomorrow, and always; and there was yesterday, +and the day before..." + +"Natasha! Now it's your turn. Sing me something," they heard the +countess say. "Why are you sitting there like conspirators?" + +"Mamma, I don't at all want to," replied Natasha, but all the same +she rose. + +None of them, not even the middle-aged Dimmler, wanted to break +off their conversation and quit that corner in the sitting room, but +Natasha got up and Nicholas sat down at the clavichord. Standing as +usual in the middle of the hall and choosing the place where the +resonance was best, Natasha began to sing her mother's favorite song. + +She had said she did not want to sing, but it was long since she had +sung, and long before she again sang, as she did that evening. The +count, from his study where he was talking to Mitenka, heard her +and, like a schoolboy in a hurry to run out to play, blundered in +his talk while giving orders to the steward, and at last stopped, +while Mitenka stood in front of him also listening and smiling. +Nicholas did not take his eyes off his sister and drew breath in +time with her. Sonya, as she listened, thought of the immense +difference there was between herself and her friend, and how +impossible it was for her to be anything like as bewitching as her +cousin. The old countess sat with a blissful yet sad smile and with +tears in her eyes, occasionally shaking her head. She thought of +Natasha and of her own youth, and of how there was something unnatural +and dreadful in this impending marriage of Natasha and Prince Andrew. + +Dimmler, who had seated himself beside the countess, listened with +closed eyes. + +"Ah, Countess," he said at last, "that's a European talent, she +has nothing to learn- what softness, tenderness, and strength...." + +"Ah, how afraid I am for her, how afraid I am!" said the countess, +not realizing to whom she was speaking. Her maternal instinct told her +that Natasha had too much of something, and that because of this she +would not be happy. Before Natasha had finished singing, +fourteen-year-old Petya rushed in delightedly, to say that some +mummers had arrived. + +Natasha stopped abruptly. + +"Idiot!" she screamed at her brother and, running to a chair, +threw herself on it, sobbing so violently that she could not stop +for a long time. + +"It's nothing, Mamma, really it's nothing; only Petya startled +me," she said, trying to smile, but her tears still flowed and sobs +still choked her. + +The mummers (some of the house serfs) dressed up as bears, Turks, +innkeepers, and ladies- frightening and funny- bringing in with them +the cold from outside and a feeling of gaiety, crowded, at first +timidly, into the anteroom, then hiding behind one another they pushed +into the ballroom where, shyly at first and then more and more merrily +and heartily, they started singing, dancing, and playing Christmas +games. The countess, when she had identified them and laughed at their +costumes, went into the drawing room. The count sat in the ballroom, +smiling radiantly and applauding the players. The young people had +disappeared. + +Half an hour later there appeared among the other mummers in the +ballroom an old lady in a hooped skirt- this was Nicholas. A Turkish +girl was Petya. A clown was Dimmler. An hussar was Natasha, and a +Circassian was Sonya with burnt-cork mustache and eyebrows. + +After the condescending surprise, nonrecognition, and praise, from +those who were not themselves dressed up, the young people decided +that their costumes were so good that they ought to be shown +elsewhere. + +Nicholas, who, as the roads were in splendid condition, wanted to +take them all for a drive in his troyka, proposed to take with them +about a dozen of the serf mummers and drive to "Uncle's." + +"No, why disturb the old fellow?" said the countess. "Besides, you +wouldn't have room to turn round there. If you must go, go to the +Melyukovs'" + +Melyukova was a widow, who, with her family and their tutors and +governesses, lived three miles from the Rostovs. + +"That's right, my dear," chimed in the old count, thoroughly +aroused. "I'll dress up at once and go with them. I'll make Pashette +open her eyes." + +But the countess would not agree to his going; he had had a bad +leg all these last days. It was decided that the count must not go, +but that if Louisa Ivanovna (Madame Schoss) would go with them, the +young ladies might go to the Melyukovs', Sonya, generally so timid and +shy, more urgently than anyone begging Louisa Ivanovna not to refuse. + +Sonya's costume was the best of all. Her mustache and eyebrows +were extraordinarily becoming. Everyone told her she looked very +handsome, and she was in a spirited and energetic mood unusual with +her. Some inner voice told her that now or never her fate would be +decided, and in her male attire she seemed quite a different person. +Louisa Ivanovna consented to go, and in half an hour four troyka +sleighs with large and small bells, their runners squeaking and +whistling over the frozen snow, drove up to the porch. + +Natasha was foremost in setting a merry holiday tone, which, passing +from one to another, grew stronger and stronger and reached its climax +when they all came out into the frost and got into the sleighs, +talking, calling to one another, laughing, and shouting. + +Two of the troykas were the usual household sleighs, the third was +the old count's with a trotter from the Orlov stud as shaft horse, the +fourth was Nicholas' own with a short shaggy black shaft horse. +Nicholas, in his old lady's dress over which he had belted his +hussar overcoat, stood in the middle of the sleigh, reins in hand. + +It was so light that he could see the moonlight reflected from the +metal harness disks and from the eyes of the horses, who looked +round in alarm at the noisy party under the shadow of the porch roof. + +Natasha, Sonya, Madame Schoss, and two maids got into Nicholas' +sleigh; Dimmler, his wife, and Petya, into the old count's, and the +rest of the mummers seated themselves in the other two sleighs. + +"You go ahead, Zakhar!" shouted Nicholas to his father's coachman, +wishing for a chance to race past him. + +The old count's troyka, with Dimmler and his party, started forward, +squeaking on its runners as though freezing to the snow, its +deep-toned bell clanging. The side horses, pressing against the shafts +of the middle horse, sank in the snow, which was dry and glittered +like sugar, and threw it up. + +Nicholas set off, following the first sleigh; behind him the +others moved noisily, their runners squeaking. At first they drove +at a steady trot along the narrow road. While they drove past the +garden the shadows of the bare trees often fell across the road and +hid the brilliant moonlight, but as soon as they were past the +fence, the snowy plain bathed in moonlight and motionless spread out +before them glittering like diamonds and dappled with bluish +shadows. Bang, bang! went the first sleigh over a cradle hole in the +snow of the road, and each of the other sleighs jolted in the same +way, and rudely breaking the frost-bound stillness, the troykas +began to speed along the road, one after the other. + +"A hare's track, a lot of tracks!" rang out Natasha's voice +through the frost-bound air. + +"How light it is, Nicholas!" came Sonya's voice. + +Nicholas glanced round at Sonya, and bent down to see her face +closer. Quite a new, sweet face with black eyebrows and mustaches +peeped up at him from her sable furs- so close and yet so distant- +in the moonlight. + +"That used to be Sonya," thought he, and looked at her closer and +smiled. + +"What is it, Nicholas?" + +"Nothing," said he and turned again to the horses. + +When they came out onto the beaten highroad- polished by sleigh +runners and cut up by rough-shod hoofs, the marks of which were +visible in the moonlight- the horses began to tug at the reins of +their own accord and increased their pace. The near side horse, +arching his head and breaking into a short canter, tugged at his +traces. The shaft horse swayed from side to side, moving his ears as +if asking: "Isn't it time to begin now?" In front, already far ahead +the deep bell of the sleigh ringing farther and farther off, the black +horses driven by Zakhar could be clearly seen against the white +snow. From that sleigh one could hear the shouts, laughter, and voices +of the mummers. + +"Gee up, my darlings!" shouted Nicholas, pulling the reins to one +side and flourishing the whip. + +It was only by the keener wind that met them and the jerks given +by the side horses who pulled harder- ever increasing their gallop- +that one noticed how fast the troyka was flying. Nicholas looked back. +With screams squeals, and waving of whips that caused even the shaft +horses to gallop- the other sleighs followed. The shaft horse swung +steadily beneath the bow over its head, with no thought of +slackening pace and ready to put on speed when required. + +Nicholas overtook the first sleigh. They were driving downhill and +coming out upon a broad trodden track across a meadow, near a river. + +"Where are we?" thought he. "It's the Kosoy meadow, I suppose. But +no- this is something new I've never seen before. This isn't the Kosoy +meadow nor the Demkin hill, and heaven only knows what it is! It is +something new and enchanted. Well, whatever it may be..." And shouting +to his horses, he began to pass the first sleigh. + +Zakhar held back his horses and turned his face, which was already +covered with hoarfrost to his eyebrows. + +Nicholas gave the horses the rein, and Zakhar, stretching out his +arms, clucked his tongue and let his horses go. + +"Now, look out, master!" he cried. + +Faster still the two troykas flew side by side, and faster moved the +feet of the galloping side horses. Nicholas began to draw ahead. +Zakhar, while still keeping his arms extended, raised one hand with +the reins. + +"No you won't, master!" he shouted. + +Nicholas put all his horses to a gallop and passed Zakhar. The +horses showered the fine dry snow on the faces of those in the sleigh- +beside them sounded quick ringing bells and they caught confused +glimpses of swiftly moving legs and the shadows of the troyka they +were passing. The whistling sound of the runners on the snow and the +voices of girls shrieking were heard from different sides. + +Again checking his horses, Nicholas looked around him. They were +still surrounded by the magic plain bathed in moonlight and spangled +with stars. + +"Zakhar is shouting that I should turn to the left, but why to the +left?" thought Nicholas. "Are we getting to the Melyukovs'? Is this +Melyukovka? Heaven only knows where we are going, and heaven knows +what is happening to us- but it is very strange and pleasant +whatever it is." And he looked round in the sleigh. + +"Look, his mustache and eyelashes are all white!" said one of the +strange, pretty, unfamiliar people- the one with fine eyebrows and +mustache. + +"I think this used to be Natasha," thought Nicholas, "and that was +Madame Schoss, but perhaps it's not, and this Circassian with the +mustache I don't know, but I love her." + +"Aren't you cold?" he asked. + +They did not answer but began to laugh. Dimmler from the sleigh +behind shouted something- probably something funny- but they could not +make out what he said. + +"Yes, yes!" some voices answered, laughing. + +"But here was a fairy forest with black moving shadows, and a +glitter of diamonds and a flight of marble steps and the silver +roofs of fairy buildings and the shrill yells of some animals. And +if this is really Melyukovka, it is still stranger that we drove +heaven knows where and have come to Melyukovka," thought Nicholas. + +It really was Melyukovka, and maids and footmen with merry faces +came running, out to the porch carrying candles. + +"Who is it?" asked someone in the porch. + +"The mummers from the count's. I know by the horses," replied some +voices. + +CHAPTER XI + +Pelageya Danilovna Melyukova, a broadly built, energetic woman +wearing spectacles, sat in the drawing room in a loose dress, +surrounded by her daughters whom she was trying to keep from feeling +dull. They were quietly dropping melted wax into snow and looking at +the shadows the wax figures would throw on the wall, when they heard +the steps and voices of new arrivals in the vestibule. + +Hussars, ladies, witches, clowns, and bears, after clearing their +throats and wiping the hoarfrost from their faces in the vestibule, +came into the ballroom where candles were hurriedly lighted. The +clown- Dimmler- and the lady- Nicholas- started a dance. Surrounded by +the screaming children the mummers, covering their faces and +disguising their voices, bowed to their hostess and arranged +themselves about the room. + +"Dear me! there's no recognizing them! And Natasha! See whom she +looks like! She really reminds me of somebody. But Herr Dimmler- isn't +he good! I didn't know him! And how he dances. Dear me, there's a +Circassian. Really, how becoming it is to dear Sonya. And who is that? +Well, you have cheered us up! Nikita and Vanya- clear away the tables! +And we were sitting so quietly. Ha, ha, ha!... The hussar, the hussar! +Just like a boy! And the legs!... I can't look at him..." different +voices were saying. + +Natasha, the young Melyukovs' favorite, disappeared with them into +the back rooms where a cork and various dressing gowns and male +garments were called for and received from the footman by bare girlish +arms from behind the door. Ten minutes later, all the young +Melyukovs joined the mummers. + +Pelageya Danilovna, having given orders to clear the rooms for the +visitors and arranged about refreshments for the gentry and the serfs, +went about among the mummers without removing her spectacles, +peering into their faces with a suppressed smile and failing to +recognize any of them. It was not merely Dimmler and the Rostovs she +failed to recognize, she did not even recognize her own daughters, +or her late husband's, dressing gowns and uniforms, which they had put +on. + +"And who is is this?" she asked her governess, peering into the face +of her own daughter dressed up as a Kazan-Tartar. "I suppose it is one +of the Rostovs! Well, Mr. Hussar, and what regiment do you serve +in?" she asked Natasha. "Here, hand some fruit jelly to the Turk!" she +ordered the butler who was handing things round. "That's not forbidden +by his law." + +Sometimes, as she looked at the strange but amusing capers cut by +the dancers, who- having decided once for all that being disguised, no +one would recognize them- were not at all shy, Pelageya Danilovna +hid her face in her handkerchief, and her whole stout body shook +with irrepressible, kindly, elderly laughter. + +"My little Sasha! Look at Sasha!" she said. + +After Russian country dances and chorus dances, Pelageya Danilovna +made the serfs and gentry join in one large circle: a ring, a +string, and a silver ruble were fetched and they all played games +together. + +In an hour, all the costumes were crumpled and disordered. The +corked eyebrows and mustaches were smeared over the perspiring, +flushed, and merry faces. Pelageya Danilovna began to recognize the +mummers, admired their cleverly contrived costumes, and particularly +how they suited the young ladies, and she thanked them all for +having entertained her so well. The visitors were invited to supper in +the drawing room, and the serfs had something served to them in the +ballroom. + +"Now to tell one's fortune in the empty bathhouse is frightening!" +said an old maid who lived with the Melyukovs, during supper. + +"Why?" said the eldest Melyukov girl. + +"You wouldn't go, it takes courage..." + +"I'll go," said Sonya. + +"Tell what happened to the young lady!" said the second Melyukov +girl. + +"Well," began the old maid, "a young lady once went out, took a +cock, laid the table for two, all properly, and sat down. After +sitting a while, she suddenly hears someone coming... a sleigh +drives up with harness bells; she hears him coming! He comes in, +just in the shape of a man, like an officer- comes in and sits down to +table with her." + +"Ah! ah!" screamed Natasha, rolling her eyes with horror. + +"Yes? And how... did he speak?" + +"Yes, like a man. Everything quite all right, and he began +persuading her; and she should have kept him talking till cockcrow, +but she got frightened, just got frightened and hid her face in her +hands. Then he caught her up. It was lucky the maids ran in just +then..." + +"Now, why frighten them?" said Pelageya Danilovna. + +"Mamma, you used to try your fate yourself..." said her daughter. + +"And how does one do it in a barn?" inquired Sonya. + +"Well, say you went to the barn now, and listened. It depends on +what you hear; hammering and knocking- that's bad; but a sound of +shifting grain is good and one sometimes hears that, too." + +"Mamma, tell us what happened to you in the barn." + +Pelageya Danilovna smiled. + +"Oh, I've forgotten..." she replied. "But none of you would go?" + +"Yes, I will; Pelageya Danilovna, let me! I'll go," said Sonya. + +"Well, why not, if you're not afraid?" + +"Louisa Ivanovna, may I?" asked Sonya. + +Whether they were playing the ring and string game or the ruble game +or talking as now, Nicholas did not leave Sonya's side, and gazed at +her with quite new eyes. It seemed to him that it was only today, +thanks to that burnt-cork mustache, that he had fully learned to +know her. And really, that evening, Sonya was brighter, more animated, +and prettier than Nicholas had ever seen her before. + +"So that's what she is like; what a fool I have been!" he thought +gazing at her sparkling eyes, and under the mustache a happy rapturous +smile dimpled her cheeks, a smile he had never seen before. + +"I'm not afraid of anything," said Sonya. "May I go at once?" She +got up. + +They told her where the barn was and how she should stand and +listen, and they handed her a fur cloak. She threw this over her +head and shoulders and glanced at Nicholas. + +"What a darling that girl is!" thought he. "And what have I been +thinking of till now?" + +Sonya went out into the passage to go to the barn. Nicholas went +hastily to the front porch, saying he felt too hot. The crowd of +people really had made the house stuffy. + +Outside, there was the same cold stillness and the same moon, but +even brighter than before. The light was so strong and the snow +sparkled with so many stars that one did not wish to look up at the +sky and the real stars were unnoticed. The sky was black and dreary, +while the earth was gay. + +"I am a fool, a fool! what have I been waiting for?" thought +Nicholas. and running out from the porch he went round the corner of +the house and along the path that led to the back porch. He knew Sonya +would pass that way. Halfway lay some snow-covered piles of firewood +and across and along them a network of shadows from the bare old +lime trees fell on the snow and on the path. This path led to the +barn. The log walls of the barn and its snow-covered roof, that looked +as if hewn out of some precious stone, sparkled in the moonlight. A +tree in the garden snapped with the frost, and then all was again +perfectly silent. His bosom seemed to inhale not air but the +strength of eternal youth and gladness. + +From the back porch came the sound of feet descending the steps, the +bottom step upon which snow had fallen gave a ringing creak and he +heard the voice of an old maidservant saying, "Straight, straight, +along the path, Miss. Only, don't look back." + +"I am not afraid," answered Sonya's voice, and along the path toward +Nicholas came the crunching, whistling sound of Sonya's feet in her +thin shoes. + +Sonya came along, wrapped in her cloak. She was only a couple of +paces away when she saw him, and to her too he was not the Nicholas +she had known and always slightly feared. He was in a woman's dress, +with tousled hair and a happy smile new to Sonya. She ran rapidly +toward him. + +"Quite different and yet the same," thought Nicholas, looking at her +face all lit up by the moonlight. He slipped his arms under the +cloak that covered her head, embraced her, pressed her to him, and +kissed her on the lips that wore a mustache and had a smell of burnt +cork. Sonya kissed him full on the lips, and disengaging her little +hands pressed them to his cheeks. + +"Sonya!... Nicholas!"... was all they said. They ran to the barn and +then back again, re-entering, he by the front and she by the back +porch. + +CHAPTER XII + +When they all drove back from Pelageya Danilovna's, Natasha, who +always saw and noticed everything, arranged that she and Madame Schoss +should go back in the sleigh with Dimmler, and Sonya with Nicholas and +the maids. + +On the way back Nicholas drove at a steady pace instead of racing +and kept peering by that fantastic all-transforming light into Sonya's +face and searching beneath the eyebrows and mustache for his former +and his present Sonya from whom he had resolved never to be parted +again. He looked and recognizing in her both the old and the new +Sonya, and being reminded by the smell of burnt cork of the +sensation of her kiss, inhaled the frosty air with a full breast +and, looking at the ground flying beneath him and at the sparkling +sky, felt himself again in fairyland. + +"Sonya, is it well with thee?" he asked from time to time. + +"Yes!" she replied. "And with thee?" + +When halfway home Nicholas handed the reins to the coachman and +ran for a moment to Natasha's sleigh and stood on its wing. + +"Natasha!" he whispered in French, "do you know I have made up my +mind about Sonya?" + +"Have you told her?" asked Natasha, suddenly beaming all over with +joy. + +"Oh, how strange you are with that mustache and those eyebrows!... +Natasha- are you glad?" + +"I am so glad, so glad! I was beginning to be vexed with you. I +did not tell you, but you have been treating her badly. What a heart +she has, Nicholas! I am horrid sometimes, but I was ashamed to be +happy while Sonya was not," continued Natasha. "Now I am so glad! +Well, run back to her." + +"No, wait a bit.... Oh, how funny you look!" cried Nicholas, peering +into her face and finding in his sister too something new, unusual, +and bewitchingly tender that he had not seen in her before. +"Natasha, it's magical, isn't it?" + +"Yes," she replied. "You have done splendidly." + +"Had I seen her before as she is now," thought Nicholas, "I should +long ago have asked her what to do and have done whatever she told me, +and all would have been well." + +"So you are glad and I have done right?" + +"Oh, quite right! I had a quarrel with Mamma some time ago about it. +Mamma said she was angling for you. How could she say such a thing! +I nearly stormed at Mamma. I will never let anyone say anything bad of +Sonya, for there is nothing but good in her." + +"Then it's all right?" said Nicholas, again scrutinizing the +expression of his sister's face to see if she was in earnest. Then +he jumped down and, his boots scrunching the snow, ran back to his +sleigh. The same happy, smiling Circassian, with mustache and +beaming eyes looking up from under a sable hood, was still sitting +there, and that Circassian was Sonya, and that Sonya was certainly his +future happy and loving wife. + +When they reached home and had told their mother how they had +spent the evening at the Melyukovs', the girls went to their +bedroom. When they had undressed, but without washing off the cork +mustaches, they sat a long time talking of their happiness. They +talked of how they would live when they were married, how their +husbands would be friends, and how happy they would be. On Natasha's +table stood two looking glasses which Dunyasha had prepared +beforehand. + +"Only when will all that be? I am afraid never.... It would be too +good!" said Natasha, rising and going to the looking glasses. + +"Sit down, Natasha; perhaps you'll see him," said Sonya. + +Natasha lit the candles, one on each side of one of the looking +glasses, and sat down. + +"I see someone with a mustache," said Natasha, seeing her own face. + +"You mustn't laugh, Miss," said Dunyasha. + +With Sonya's help and the maid's, Natasha got the glass she held +into the right position opposite the other; her face assumed a serious +expression and she sat silent. She sat a long time looking at the +receding line of candles reflected in the glasses and expecting +(from tales she had heard) to see a coffin, or him, Prince Andrew, +in that last dim, indistinctly outlined square. But ready as she was +to take the smallest speck for the image of a man or of a coffin, +she saw nothing. She began blinking rapidly and moved away from the +looking glasses. + +"Why is it others see things and I don't?" she said. "You sit down +now, Sonya. You absolutely must, tonight! Do it for me.... Today I +feel so frightened!" + +Sonya sat down before the glasses, got the right position, and began +looking. + +"Now, Miss Sonya is sure to see something," whispered Dunyasha; +"while you do nothing but laugh." + +Sonya heard this and Natasha's whisper: + +"I know she will. She saw something last year." + +For about three minutes all were silent. + +"Of course she will!" whispered Natasha, but did not finish... +suddenly Sonya pushed away the glass she was holding and covered her +eyes with her hand. + +"Oh, Natasha!" she cried. + +"Did you see? Did you? What was it?" exclaimed Natasha, holding up +the looking glass. + +Sonya had not seen anything, she was just wanting to blink and to +get up when she heard Natasha say, "Of course she will!" She did not +wish to disappoint either Dunyasha or Natasha, but it was hard to +sit still. She did not herself know how or why the exclamation escaped +her when she covered her eyes. + +"You saw him?" urged Natasha, seizing her hand. + +"Yes. Wait a bit... I... saw him," Sonya could not help saying, +not yet knowing whom Natasha meant by him, Nicholas or Prince Andrew. + +"But why shouldn't I say I saw something? Others do see! Besides who +can tell whether I saw anything or not?" flashed through Sonya's mind. + +"Yes, I saw him," she said. + +"How? Standing or lying?" + +"No, I saw... At first there was nothing, then I saw him lying +down." + +"Andrew lying? Is he ill?" asked Natasha, her frightened eyes +fixed on her friend. + +"No, on the contrary, on the contrary! His face was cheerful, and he +turned to me." And when saying this she herself fancied she had really +seen what she described. + +"Well, and then, Sonya?..." + +"After that, I could not make out what there was; something blue and +red..." + +"Sonya! When will he come back? When shall I see him! O, God, how +afraid I am for him and for myself and about everything!..." Natasha +began, and without replying to Sonya's words of comfort she got into +bed, and long after her candle was out lay open-eyed and motionless, +gazing at the moonlight through the frosty windowpanes. + +CHAPTER XIII + +Soon after the Christmas holidays Nicholas told his mother of his +love for Sonya and of his firm resolve to marry her. The countess, who +had long noticed what was going on between them and was expecting this +declaration, listened to him in silence and then told her son that +he might marry whom he pleased, but that neither she nor his father +would give their blessing to such a marriage. Nicholas, for the +first time, felt that his mother was displeased with him and that, +despite her love for him, she would not give way. Coldly, without +looking at her son, she sent for her husband and, when he came, +tried briefly and coldly to inform him of the facts, in her son's +presence, but unable to restrain herself she burst into tears of +vexation and left the room. The old count began irresolutely to +admonish Nicholas and beg him to abandon his purpose. Nicholas replied +that he could not go back on his word, and his father, sighing and +evidently disconcerted, very soon became silent and went in to the +countess. In all his encounters with his son, the count was always +conscious of his own guilt toward him for having wasted the family +fortune, and so he could not be angry with him for refusing to marry +an heiress and choosing the dowerless Sonya. On this occasion, he +was only more vividly conscious of the fact that if his affairs had +not been in disorder, no better wife for Nicholas than Sonya could +have been wished for, and that no one but himself with his Mitenka and +his uncomfortable habits was to blame for the condition of the +family finances. + +The father and mother did not speak of the matter to their son +again, but a few days later the countess sent for Sonya and, with a +cruelty neither of them expected, reproached her niece for trying to +catch Nicholas and for ingratitude. Sonya listened silently with +downcast eyes to the countess' cruel words, without understanding what +was required of her. She was ready to sacrifice everything for her +benefactors. Self-sacrifice was her most cherished idea but in this +case she could not see what she ought to sacrifice, or for whom. She +could not help loving the countess and the whole Rostov family, but +neither could she help loving Nicholas and knowing that his +happiness depended on that love. She was silent and sad and did not +reply. Nicholas felt the situation to be intolerable and went to +have an explanation with his mother. He first implored her to +forgive him and Sonya and consent to their marriage, then he +threatened that if she molested Sonya he would at once marry her +secretly. + +The countess, with a coldness her son had never seen in her +before, replied that he was of age, that Prince Andrew was marrying +without his father's consent, and he could do the same, but that she +would never receive that intriguer as her daughter. + +Exploding at the word intriguer, Nicholas, raising his voice, told +his mother he had never expected her to try to force him to sell his +feelings, but if that were so, he would say for the last time.... +But he had no time to utter the decisive word which the expression +of his face caused his mother to await with terror, and which would +perhaps have forever remained a cruel memory to them both. He had +not time to say it, for Natasha, with a pale and set face, entered the +room from the door at which she had been listening. + +"Nicholas, you are talking nonsense! Be quiet, be quiet, be quiet, I +tell you!..." she almost screamed, so as to drown his voice. + +"Mamma darling, it's not at all so... my poor, sweet darling," she +said to her mother, who conscious that they had been on the brink of a +rupture gazed at her son with terror, but in the obstinacy and +excitement of the conflict could not and would not give way. + +"Nicholas, I'll explain to you. Go away! Listen, Mamma darling," +said Natasha. + +Her words were incoherent, but they attained the purpose at which +she was aiming. + +The countess, sobbing heavily, hid her face on her daughter's +breast, while Nicholas rose, clutching his head, and left the room. + +Natasha set to work to effect a reconciliation, and so far succeeded +that Nicholas received a promise from his mother that Sonya should not +be troubled, while he on his side promised not to undertake anything +without his parents' knowledge. + +Firmly resolved, after putting his affairs in order in the regiment, +to retire from the army and return and marry Sonya, Nicholas, serious, +sorrowful, and at variance with his parents, but, as it seemed to him, +passionately in love, left at the beginning of January to rejoin his +regiment. + +After Nicholas had gone things in the Rostov household were more +depressing than ever, and the countess fell ill from mental agitation. + +Sonya was unhappy at the separation from Nicholas and still more +so on account of the hostile tone the countess could not help adopting +toward her. The count was more perturbed than ever by the condition of +his affairs, which called for some decisive action. Their town house +and estate near Moscow had inevitably to be sold, and for this they +had to go to Moscow. But the countess' health obliged them to delay +their departure from day to day. + +Natasha, who had borne the first period of separation from her +betrothed lightly and even cheerfully, now grew more agitated and +impatient every day. The thought that her best days, which she would +have employed in loving him, were being vainly wasted, with no +advantage to anyone, tormented her incessantly. His letters for the +most part irritated her. It hurt her to think that while she lived +only in the thought of him, he was living a real life, seeing new +places and new people that interested him. The more interesting his +letters were the more vexed she felt. Her letters to him, far from +giving her any comfort, seemed to her a wearisome and artificial +obligation. She could not write, because she could not conceive the +possibility of expressing sincerely in a letter even a thousandth part +of what she expressed by voice, smile, and glance. She wrote to him +formal, monotonous, and dry letters, to which she attached no +importance herself, and in the rough copies of which the countess +corrected her mistakes in spelling. + +There was still no improvement in the countess' health, but it was +impossible to defer the journey to Moscow any longer. Natasha's +trousseau had to be ordered and the house sold. Moreover, Prince +Andrew was expected in Moscow, where old Prince Bolkonski was spending +the winter, and Natasha felt sure he had already arrived. + +So the countess remained in the country, and the count, taking Sonya +and Natasha with him, went to Moscow at the end of January. + +BOOK EIGHT: 1811 - 12 + +CHAPTER I + +After Prince Andrews engagement to Natasha, Pierre without any +apparent cause suddenly felt it impossible to go on living as +before. Firmly convinced as he was of the truths revealed to him by +his benefactor, and happy as he had been in perfecting his inner +man, to which he had devoted himself with such ardor- all the zest +of such a life vanished after the engagement of Andrew and Natasha and +the death of Joseph Alexeevich, the news of which reached him almost +at the same time. Only the skeleton of life remained: his house, a +brilliant wife who now enjoyed the favors of a very important +personage, acquaintance with all Petersburg, and his court service +with its dull formalities. And this life suddenly seemed to Pierre +unexpectedly loathsome. He ceased keeping a diary, avoided the company +of the Brothers, began going to the Club again, drank a great deal, +and came once more in touch with the bachelor sets, leading such a +life that the Countess Helene thought it necessary to speak severely +to him about it. Pierre felt that she right, and to avoid compromising +her went away to Moscow. + +In Moscow as soon as he entered his huge house in which the faded +and fading princesses still lived, with its enormous retinue; as +soon as, driving through the town, he saw the Iberian shrine with +innumerable tapers burning before the golden covers of the icons, +the Kremlin Square with its snow undisturbed by vehicles, the sleigh +drivers and hovels of the Sivtsev Vrazhok, those old Moscovites who +desired nothing, hurried nowhere, and were ending their days +leisurely; when he saw those old Moscow ladies, the Moscow balls, +and the English Club, he felt himself at home in a quiet haven. In +Moscow he felt at peace, at home, warm and dirty as in an old dressing +gown. + +Moscow society, from the old women down to the children, received +Pierre like a long-expected guest whose place was always ready +awaiting him. For Moscow society Pierre was the nicest, kindest, +most intellectual, merriest, and most magnanimous of cranks, a +heedless, genial nobleman of the old Russian type. His purse was +always empty because it was open to everyone. + +Benefit performances, poor pictures, statues, benevolent +societies, gypsy choirs, schools, subscription dinners, sprees, +Freemasons, churches, and books- no one and nothing met with a refusal +from him, and had it not been for two friends who had borrowed large +sums from him and taken him under their protection, he would have +given everything away. There was never a dinner or soiree at the +Club without him. As soon as he sank into his place on the sofa +after two bottles of Margaux he was surrounded, and talking, +disputing, and joking began. When there were quarrels, his kindly +smile and well-timed jests reconciled the antagonists. The Masonic +dinners were dull and dreary when he was not there. + +When after a bachelor supper he rose with his amiable and kindly +smile, yielding to the entreaties of the festive company to drive +off somewhere with them, shouts of delight and triumph arose among the +young men. At balls he danced if a partner was needed. Young ladies, +married and unmarried, liked him because without making love to any of +them, he was equally amiable to all, especially after supper. "Il +est charmant; il n'a pas de sexe,"~^ they said of him. + +^~ "He is charming; he has no sex." + +Pierre was one of those retired gentlemen-in-waiting of whom there +were hundreds good-humoredly ending their days in Moscow. + +How horrified he would have been seven years before, when he first +arrived from abroad, had he been told that there was no need for him +to seek or plan anything, that his rut had long been shaped, eternally +predetermined, and that wriggle as he might, he would be what all in +his position were. He could not have believed it! Had he not at one +time longed with all his heart to establish a republic in Russia; then +himself to be a Napoleon; then to be a philosopher; and then a +strategist and the conqueror of Napoleon? Had he not seen the +possibility of, and passionately desired, the regeneration of the +sinful human race, and his own progress to the highest degree of +perfection? Had he not established schools and hospitals and liberated +his serfs? + +But instead of all that- here he was, the wealthy husband of an +unfaithful wife, a retired gentleman-in-waiting, fond of eating and +drinking and, as he unbuttoned his waistcoat, of abusing the +government a bit, a member of the Moscow English Club, and a universal +favorite in Moscow society. For a long time he could not reconcile +himself to the idea that he was one of those same retired Moscow +gentlemen-in-waiting he had so despised seven years before. + +Sometimes he consoled himself with the thought that he was only +living this life temporarily; but then he was shocked by the thought +of how many, like himself, had entered that life and that Club +temporarily, with all their teeth and hair, and had only left it +when not a single tooth or hair remained. + +In moments of pride, when he thought of his position it seemed to +him that he was quite different and distinct from those other +retired gentlemen-in-waiting he had formerly despised: they were +empty, stupid, contented fellows, satisfied with their position, +"while I am still discontented and want to do something for mankind. +But perhaps all these comrades of mine struggled just like me and +sought something new, a path in life of their own, and like me were +brought by force of circumstances, society, and race- by that +elemental force against which man is powerless- to the condition I +am in," said he to himself in moments of humility; and after living +some time in Moscow he no longer despised, but began to grow fond +of, to respect, and to pity his comrades in destiny, as he pitied +himself. + +Pierre longer suffered moments of despair, hypochondria, and disgust +with life, but the malady that had formerly found expression in such +acute attacks was driven inwards and never left him for a moment. +"What for? Why? What is going on in the world?" he would ask himself +in perplexity several times a day, involuntarily beginning to +reflect anew on the meaning of the phenomena of life; but knowing by +experience that there were no answers to these questions he made haste +to turn away from them, and took up a book, or hurried of to the +Club or to Apollon Nikolaevich's, to exchange the gossip of the town. + +"Helene, who has never cared for anything but her own body and is +one of the stupidest women in the world," thought Pierre, "is regarded +by people as the acme of intelligence and refinement, and they pay +homage to her. Napoleon Bonaparte was despised by all as long as he +was great, but now that he has become a wretched comedian the +Emperor Francis wants to offer him his daughter in an illegal +marriage. The Spaniards, through the Catholic clergy, offer praise +to God for their victory over the French on the fourteenth of June, +and the French, also through the Catholic clergy, offer praise because +on that same fourteenth of June they defeated the Spaniards. My +brother Masons swear by the blood that they are ready to sacrifice +everything for their neighbor, but they do not give a ruble each to +the collections for the poor, and they intrigue, the Astraea Lodge +against the Manna Seekers, and fuss about an authentic Scotch carpet +and a charter that nobody needs, and the meaning of which the very man +who wrote it does not understand. We all profess the Christian law +of forgiveness of injuries and love of our neighbors, the law in honor +of which we have built in Moscow forty times forty churches- but +yesterday a deserter was knouted to death and a minister of that +same law of love and forgiveness, a priest, gave the soldier a cross +to kiss before his execution." So thought Pierre, and the whole of +this general deception which everyone accepts, accustomed as he was to +it, astonished him each time as if it were something new. "I +understand the deception and confusion," he thought, "but how am I +to tell them all that I see? I have tried, and have always found +that they too in the depths of their souls understand it as I do, +and only try not to see it. So it appears that it must be so! But I- +what is to become of me?" thought he. He had the unfortunate +capacity many men, especially Russians, have of seeing and believing +in the possibility of goodness and truth, but of seeing the evil and +falsehood of life too clearly to be able to take a serious part in it. +Every sphere of work was connected, in his eyes, with evil and +deception. Whatever he tried to be, whatever he engaged in, the evil +and falsehood of it repulsed him and blocked every path of activity. +Yet he had to live and to find occupation. It was too dreadful to be +under the burden of these insoluble problems, so he abandoned +himself to any distraction in order to forget them. He frequented +every kind of society, drank much, bought pictures, engaged in +building, and above all- read. + +He read, and read everything that came to hand. On coming home, +while his valets were still taking off his things, he picked up a book +and began to read. From reading he passed to sleeping, from sleeping +to gossip in drawing rooms of the Club, from gossip to carousals and +women; from carousals back to gossip, reading, and wine. Drinking +became more and more a physical and also a moral necessity. Though the +doctors warned him that with his corpulence wine was dangerous for +him, he drank a great deal. He was only quite at ease when having +poured several glasses of wine mechanically into his large mouth he +felt a pleasant warmth in his body, an amiability toward all his +fellows, and a readiness to respond superficially to every idea +without probing it deeply. Only after emptying a bottle or two did +he feel dimly that the terribly tangled skein of life which previously +had terrified him was not as dreadful as he had thought. He was always +conscious of some aspect of that skein, as with a buzzing in his +head after dinner or supper he chatted or listened to conversation +or read. But under the influence of wine he said to himself: "It +doesn't matter. I'll get it unraveled. I have a solution ready, but +have no time now- I'll think it all out later on!" But the later on +never came. + +In the morning, on an empty stomach, all the old questions +appeared as insoluble and terrible as ever, and Pierre hastily +picked up a book, and if anyone came to see him he was glad. + +Sometimes he remembered how he had heard that soldiers in war when +entrenched under the enemy's fire, if they have nothing to do, try +hard to find some occupation the more easily to bear the danger. To +Pierre all men seemed like those soldiers, seeking refuge from life: +some in ambition, some in cards, some in framing laws, some in +women, some in toys, some in horses, some in politics, some in +sport, some in wine, and some in governmental affairs. "Nothing is +trivial, and nothing is important, it's all the same- only to save +oneself from it as best one can," thought Pierre. "Only not to see it, +that dreadful it!" + +CHAPTER II + +At the beginning of winter Prince Nicholas Bolkonski and his +daughter moved to Moscow. At that time enthusiasm for the Emperor +Alexander's regime had weakened and a patriotic and anti-French +tendency prevailed there, and this, together with his past and his +intellect and his originality, at once made Prince Nicholas +Bolkonski an object of particular respect to the Moscovites and the +center of the Moscow opposition to the government. + +The prince had aged very much that year. He showed marked signs of +senility by a tendency to fall asleep, forgetfulness of quite recent +events, remembrance of remote ones, and the childish vanity with which +he accepted the role of head of the Moscow opposition. In spite of +this the old man inspired in all his visitors alike a feeling of +respectful veneration- especially of an evening when he came in to tea +in his old-fashioned coat and powdered wig and, aroused by anyone, +told his abrupt stories of the past, or uttered yet more abrupt and +scathing criticisms of the present. For them all, that old-fashioned +house with its gigantic mirrors, pre-Revolution furniture, powdered +footmen, and the stern shrewd old man (himself a relic of the past +century) with his gentle daughter and the pretty Frenchwoman who +were reverently devoted to him presented a majestic and agreeable +spectacle. But the visitors did not reflect that besides the couple of +hours during which they saw their host, there were also twenty-two +hours in the day during which the private and intimate life of the +house continued. + +Latterly that private life had become very trying for Princess Mary. +There in Moscow she was deprived of her greatest pleasures- talks with +the pilgrims and the solitude which refreshed her at Bald Hills- and +she had none of the advantages and pleasures of city life. She did not +go out into society; everyone knew that her father would not let her +go anywhere without him, and his failing health prevented his going +out himself, so that she was not invited to dinners and evening +parties. She had quite abandoned the hope of getting married. She +saw the coldness and malevolence with which the old prince received +and dismissed the young men, possible suitors, who sometimes +appeared at their house. She had no friends: during this visit to +Moscow she had been disappointed in the two who had been nearest to +her. Mademoiselle Bourienne, with whom she had never been able to be +quite frank, had now become unpleasant to her, and for various reasons +Princess Mary avoided her. Julie, with whom she had corresponded for +the last five years, was in Moscow, but proved to be quite alien to +her when they met. Just then Julie, who by the death of her brothers +had become one of the richest heiresses in Moscow, was in the full +whirl of society pleasures. She was surrounded by young men who, she +fancied, had suddenly learned to appreciate her worth. Julie was at +that stage in the life of a society woman when she feels that her last +chance of marrying has come and that her fate must be decided now or +never. On Thursdays Princess Mary remembered with a mournful smile +that she now had no one to write to, since Julie- whose presence +gave her no pleasure was here and they met every week. Like the old +emigre who declined to marry the lady with whom he had spent his +evenings for years, she regretted Julie's presence and having no one +to write to. In Moscow Princess Mary had no one to talk to, no one +to whom to confide her sorrow, and much sorrow fell to her lot just +then. The time for Prince Andrew's return and marriage was +approaching, but his request to her to prepare his father for it had +not been carried out; in fact, it seemed as if matters were quite +hopeless, for at every mention of the young Countess Rostova the old +prince (who apart from that was usually in a bad temper) lost +control of himself. Another lately added sorrow arose from the lessons +she gave her six year-old nephew. To her consternation she detected in +herself in relation to little Nicholas some symptoms of her father's +irritability. However often she told herself that she must not get +irritable when teaching her nephew, almost every time that, pointer in +hand, she sat down to show him the French alphabet, she so longed to +pour her own knowledge quickly and easily into the child- who was +already afraid that Auntie might at any moment get angry- that at +his slightest inattention she trembled, became flustered and heated, +raised her voice, and sometimes pulled him by the arm and put him in +the corner. Having put him in the corner she would herself begin to +cry over her cruel, evil nature, and little Nicholas, following her +example, would sob, and without permission would leave his corner, +come to her, pull her wet hands from her face, and comfort her. But +what distressed the princess most of all was her father's +irritability, which was always directed against her and had of late +amounted to cruelty. Had he forced her to prostrate herself to the +ground all night, had he beaten her or made her fetch wood or water, +it would never have entered her mind to think her position hard; but +this loving despot- the more cruel because he loved her and for that +reason tormented himself and her- knew how not merely to hurt and +humiliate her deliberately, but to show her that she was always to +blame for everything. Of late he had exhibited a new trait that +tormented Princess Mary more than anything else; this was his +ever-increasing intimacy with Mademoiselle Bourienne. The idea that at +the first moment of receiving the news of his son's intentions had +occurred to him in jest- that if Andrew got married he himself would +marry Bourienne- had evidently pleased him, and latterly he had +persistently, and as it seemed to Princess Mary merely to offend +her, shown special endearments to the companion and expressed his +dissatisfaction with his daughter by demonstrations of love of +Bourienne. + +One day in Moscow in Princess Mary's presence (she thought her +father did it purposely when she was there) the old prince kissed +Mademoiselle Bourienne's hand and, drawing her to him, embraced her +affectionately. Princess Mary flushed and ran out of the room. A few +minutes later Mademoiselle Bourienne came into Princess Mary's room +smiling and making cheerful remarks in her agreeable voice. Princess +Mary hastily wiped away her tears, went resolutely up to +Mademoiselle Bourienne, and evidently unconscious of what she was +doing began shouting in angry haste at the Frenchwoman, her voice +breaking: "It's horrible, vile, inhuman, to take advantage of the +weakness..." She did not finish. "Leave my room," she exclaimed, and +burst into sobs. + +Next day the prince did not say a word to his daughter, but she +noticed that at dinner he gave orders that Mademoiselle Bourienne +should be served first. After dinner, when the footman handed coffee +and from habit began with the princess, the prince suddenly grew +furious, threw his stick at Philip, and instantly gave instructions to +have him conscripted for the army. + +"He doesn't obey... I said it twice... and he doesn't obey! She is +the first person in this house; she's my best friend," cried the +prince. "And if you allow yourself," he screamed in a fury, addressing +Princess Mary for the first time, "to forget yourself again before her +as you dared to do yesterday, I will show you who is master in this +house. Go! Don't let me set eyes on you; beg her pardon!" + +Princess Mary asked Mademoiselle Bourienne's pardon, and also her +father's pardon for herself and for Philip the footman, who had begged +for her intervention. + +At such moments something like a pride of sacrifice gathered in +her soul. And suddenly that father whom she had judged would look +for his spectacles in her presence, fumbling near them and not +seeing them, or would forget something that had just occurred, or take +a false step with his failing legs and turn to see if anyone had +noticed his feebleness, or, worst of all, at dinner when there were no +visitors to excite him would suddenly fall asleep, letting his +napkin drop and his shaking head sink over his plate. "He is old and +feeble, and I dare to condemn him!" she thought at such moments, +with a feeling of revulsion against herself. + +CHAPTER III + +In 1811 there was living in Moscow a French doctor- Metivier- who +had rapidly become the fashion. He was enormously tall, handsome, +amiable as Frenchmen are, and was, as all Moscow said, an +extraordinarily clever doctor. He was received in the best houses +not merely as a doctor, but as an equal. + +Prince Nicholas had always ridiculed medicine, but latterly on +Mademoiselle Bourienne's advice had allowed this doctor to visit him +and had grown accustomed to him. Metivier came to see the prince about +twice a week. + +On December 6- St. Nicholas' Day and the prince's name day- all +Moscow came to the prince's front door but he gave orders to admit +no one and to invite to dinner only a small number, a list of whom +he gave to Princess Mary. + +Metivier, who came in the morning with his felicitations, considered +it proper in his quality of doctor de forcer la consigne,~^ as he +told Princess Mary, and went in to see the prince. It happened that on +that morning of his name day the prince was in one of his worst moods. +He had been going about the house all the morning finding fault with +everyone and pretending not to understand what was said to him and not +to be understood himself. Princess Mary well knew this mood of quiet +absorbed querulousness, which generally culminated in a burst of rage, +and she went about all that morning as though facing a cocked and +loaded gun and awaited the inevitable explosion. Until the doctor's +arrival the morning had passed off safely. After admitting the doctor, +Princess Mary sat down with a book in the drawing room near the door +through which she could hear all that passed in the study. + +^~ To force the guard. + +At first she heard only Metivier's voice, then her father's, then +both voices began speaking at the same time, the door was flung +open, and on the threshold appeared the handsome figure of the +terrified Metivier with his shock of black hair, and the prince in his +dressing gown and fez, his face distorted with fury and the pupils +of his eyes rolled downwards. + +"You don't understand?" shouted the prince, "but I do! French spy, +slave of Buonaparte, spy, get out of my house! Be off, I tell you..." + +Metivier, shrugging his shoulders, went up to Mademoiselle Bourienne +who at the sound of shouting had run in from an adjoining room. + +"The prince is not very well: bile and rush of blood to the head. +Keep calm, I will call again tomorrow," said Metivier; and putting his +fingers to his lips he hastened away. + +Through the study door came the sound of slippered feet and the cry: +"Spies, traitors, traitors everywhere! Not a moment's peace in my +own house!" + +After Metivier's departure the old prince called his daughter in, +and the whole weight of his wrath fell on her. She was to blame that a +spy had been admitted. Had he not told her, yes, told her to make a +list, and not to admit anyone who was not on that list? Then why was +that scoundrel admitted? She was the cause of it all. With her, he +said, he could not have a moment's peace and could not die quietly. + +"No, ma'am! We must part, we must part! Understand that, +understand it! I cannot endure any more," he said, and left the +room. Then, as if afraid she might find some means of consolation, +he returned and trying to appear calm added: "And don't imagine I have +said this in a moment of anger. I am calm. I have thought it over, and +it will be carried out- we must part; so find some place for +yourself...." But he could not restrain himself and with the virulence +of which only one who loves is capable, evidently suffering himself, +he shook his fists at her and screamed: + +"If only some fool would marry her!" Then he slammed the door, +sent for Mademoiselle Bourienne, and subsided into his study. + +At two o'clock the six chosen guests assembled for dinner. + +These guests- the famous Count Rostopchin, Prince Lopukhin with +his nephew, General Chatrov an old war comrade of the prince's, and of +the younger generation Pierre and Boris Drubetskoy- awaited the prince +in the drawing room. + +Boris, who had come to Moscow on leave a few days before, had been +anxious to be presented to Prince Nicholas Bolkonski, and had +contrived to ingratiate himself so well that the old prince in his +case made an exception to the rule of not receiving bachelors in his +house. + +The prince's house did not belong to what is known as fashionable +society, but his little circle- though not much talked about in +town- was one it was more flattering to be received in than any other. +Boris had realized this the week before when the commander in chief in +his presence invited Rostopchin to dinner on St. Nicholas' Day, and +Rostopchin had replied that he could not come: + +"On that day I always go to pay my devotions to the relics of Prince +Nicholas Bolkonski." + +"Oh, yes, yes!" replied the commander in chief. "How is he?..." + +The small group that assembled before dinner in the lofty +old-fashioned drawing room with its old furniture resembled the solemn +gathering of a court of justice. All were silent or talked in low +tones. Prince Nicholas came in serious and taciturn. Princess Mary +seemed even quieter and more diffident than usual. The guests were +reluctant to address her, feeling that she was in no mood for their +conversation. Count Rostopchin alone kept the conversation going, +now relating the latest town news, and now the latest political +gossip. + +Lopukhin and the old general occasionally took part in the +conversation. Prince Bolkonski listened as a presiding judge +receives a report, only now and then, silently or by a brief word, +showing that he took heed of what was being reported to him. The +tone of the conversation was such as indicated that no one approved of +what was being done in the political world. Incidents were related +evidently confirming the opinion that everything was going from bad to +worse, but whether telling a story or giving an opinion the speaker +always stopped, or was stopped, at the point beyond which his +criticism might touch the sovereign himself. + +At dinner the talk turned on the latest political news: Napoleon's +seizure of the Duke of Oldenburg's territory, and the Russian Note, +hostile to Napoleon, which had been sent to all the European courts. + +"Bonaparte treats Europe as a pirate does a captured vessel," said +Count Rostopchin, repeating a phrase he had uttered several times +before. "One only wonders at the long-suffering or blindness of the +crowned heads. Now the Pope's turn has come and Bonaparte doesn't +scruple to depose the head of the Catholic Church- yet all keep +silent! Our sovereign alone has protested against the seizure of the +Duke of Oldenburg's territory, and even..." Count Rostopchin paused, +feeling that he had reached the limit beyond which censure was +impossible. + +"Other territories have been offered in exchange for the Duchy of +Oldenburg," said Prince Bolkonski. "He shifts the Dukes about as I +might move my serfs from Bald Hills to Bogucharovo or my Ryazan +estates." + +"The Duke of Oldenburg bears his misfortunes with admirable strength +of character and resignation," remarked Boris, joining in +respectfully. + +He said this because on his journey from Petersburg he had had the +honor of being presented to the Duke. Prince Bolkonski glanced at +the young man as if about to say something in reply, but changed his +mind, evidently considering him too young. + +"I have read our protests about the Oldenburg affair and was +surprised how badly the Note was worded," remarked Count Rostopchin in +the casual tone of a man dealing with a subject quite familiar to him. + +Pierre looked at Rostopchin with naive astonishment, not +understanding why he should be disturbed by the bad composition of the +Note. + +"Does it matter, Count, how the Note is worded," he asked, "so +long as its substance is forcible?" + +"My dear fellow, with our five hundred thousand troops it should +be easy to have a good style," returned Count Rostopchin. + +Pierre now understood the count's dissatisfaction with the wording +of the Note. + +"One would have thought quill drivers enough had sprung up," +remarked the old prince. "There in Petersburg they are always writing- +not notes only but even new laws. My Andrew there has written a +whole volume of laws for Russia. Nowadays they are always writing!" +and he laughed unnaturally. + +There was a momentary pause in the conversation; the old general +cleared his throat to draw attention. + +"Did you hear of the last event at the review in Petersburg? The +figure cut by the new French ambassador." + +"Eh? Yes, I heard something: he said something awkward in His +Majesty's presence." + +"His Majesty drew attention to the Grenadier division and to the +march past," continued the general, "and it seems the ambassador +took no notice and allowed himself to reply that: 'We in France pay no +attention to such trifles!' The Emperor did not condescend to reply. +At the next review, they say, the Emperor did not once deign to +address him." + +All were silent. On this fact relating to the Emperor personally, it +was impossible to pass any judgment. + +"Impudent fellows!" said the prince. "You know Metivier? I turned +him out of my house this morning. He was here; they admitted him spite +of my request that they should let no one in," he went on, glancing +angrily at his daughter. + +And he narrated his whole conversation with the French doctor and +the reasons that convinced him that Metivier was a spy. Though these +reasons were very insufficient and obscure, no one made any rejoinder. + +After the roast, champagne was served. The guests rose to +congratulate the old prince. Princess Mary, too, went round to him. + +He gave her a cold, angry look and offered her his wrinkled, +clean-shaven cheek to kiss. The whole expression of his face told +her that he had not forgotten the morning's talk, that his decision +remained in force, and only the presence of visitors hindered his +speaking of it to her now. + +When they went into the drawing room where coffee was served, the +old men sat together. + +Prince Nicholas grew more animated and expressed his views on the +impending war. + +He said that our wars with Bonaparte would be disastrous so long +as we sought alliances with the Germans and thrust ourselves into +European affairs, into which we had been drawn by the Peace of Tilsit. +"We ought not to fight either for or against Austria. Our political +interests are all in the East, and in regard to Bonaparte the only +thing is to have an armed frontier and a firm policy, and he will +never dare to cross the Russian frontier, as was the case in 1807!" + +"How can we fight the French, Prince?" said Count Rostopchin. "Can +we arm ourselves against our teachers and divinities? Look at our +youths, look at our ladies! The French are our Gods: Paris is our +Kingdom of Heaven." + +He began speaking louder, evidently to be heard by everyone. + +"French dresses, French ideas, French feelings! There now, you +turned Metivier out by the scruff of his neck because he is a +Frenchman and a scoundrel, but our ladies crawl after him on their +knees. I went to a party last night, and there out of five ladies +three were Roman Catholics and had the Pope's indulgence for doing +woolwork on Sundays. And they themselves sit there nearly naked, +like the signboards at our Public Baths if I may say so. Ah, when +one looks at our young people, Prince, one would like to take Peter +the Great's old cudgel out of the museum and belabor them in the +Russian way till all the nonsense jumps out of them." + +All were silent. The old prince looked at Rostopchin with a smile +and wagged his head approvingly. + +"Well, good-by, your excellency, keep well!" said Rostopchin, +getting up with characteristic briskness and holding out his hand to +the prince. + +"Good-by, my dear fellow.... His words are music, I never tire of +hearing him!" said the old prince, keeping hold of the hand and +offering his cheek to be kissed. + +Following Rostopchin's example the others also rose. + +CHAPTER IV + +Princess Mary as she sat listening to the old men's talk and +faultfinding, understood nothing of what she heard; she only +wondered whether the guests had all observed her father's hostile +attitude toward her. She did not even notice the special attentions +and amiabilities shown her during dinner by Boris Drubetskoy, who +was visiting them for the third time already. + +Princess Mary turned with absent-minded questioning look to +Pierre, who hat in hand and with a smile on his face was the last of +the guests to approach her after the old prince had gone out and +they were left alone in the drawing room. + +"May I stay a little longer?" he said, letting his stout body sink +into an armchair beside her. + +"Oh yes," she answered. "You noticed nothing?" her look asked. + +Pierre was in an agreeable after-dinner mood. He looked straight +before him and smiled quietly. + +"Have you known that young man long, Princess?" he asked. + +"Who?" + +"Drubetskoy." + +"No, not long..." + +"Do you like him?" + +"Yes, he is an agreeable young man.... Why do you ask me that?" said +Princess Mary, still thinking of that morning's conversation with +her father. + +"Because I have noticed that when a young man comes on leave from +Petersburg to Moscow it is usually with the object of marrying an +heiress." + +"You have observed that?" said Princess Mary. + +"Yes," returned Pierre with a smile, "and this young man now manages +matters so that where there is a wealthy heiress there he is too. I +can read him like a book. At present he is hesitating whom to lay +siege to- you or Mademoiselle Julie Karagina. He is very attentive +to her." + +"He visits them?" + +"Yes, very often. And do you know the new way of courting?" said +Pierre with an amused smile, evidently in that cheerful mood of good +humored raillery for which he so often reproached himself in his +diary. + +"No," replied Princess Mary. + +"To please Moscow girls nowadays one has to be melancholy. He is +very melancholy with Mademoiselle Karagina," said Pierre. + +"Really?" asked Princess Mary, looking into Pierre's kindly face and +still thinking of her own sorrow. "It would be a relief," thought she, +"if I ventured to confide what I am feeling to someone. I should +like to tell everything to Pierre. He is kind and generous. It would +be a relief. He would give me advice." + +"Would you marry him?" + +"Oh, my God, Count, there are moments when I would marry anybody!" +she cried suddenly to her own surprise and with tears in her voice. +"Ah, how bitter it is to love someone near to you and to feel that..." +she went on in a trembling voice, "that you can do nothing for him but +grieve him, and to know that you cannot alter this. Then there is only +one thing left- to go away, but where could I go?" + +"What is wrong? What is it, Princess?" + +But without finishing what she was saying, Princess Mary burst +into tears. + +"I don't know what is the matter with me today. Don't take any +notice- forget what I have said!" + +Pierre's gaiety vanished completely. He anxiously questioned the +princess, asked her to speak out fully and confide her grief to him; +but she only repeated that she begged him to forget what she had said, +that she did not remember what she had said, and that she had no +trouble except the one he knew of- that Prince Andrew's marriage +threatened to cause a rupture between father and son. + +"Have you any news of the Rostovs?" she asked, to change the +subject. "I was told they are coming soon. I am also expecting +Andrew any day. I should like them to meet here." + +"And how does he now regard the matter?" asked Pierre, referring +to the old prince. + +Princess Mary shook her head. + +"What is to be done? In a few months the year will be up. The +thing is impossible. I only wish I could spare my brother the first +moments. I wish they would come sooner. I hope to be friends with her. +You have known them a long time," said Princess Mary. "Tell me +honestly the whole truth: what sort of girl is she, and what do you +think of her?- The real truth, because you know Andrew is risking so +much doing this against his father's will that I should like to +know..." + +An undefined instinct told Pierre that these explanations, and +repeated requests to be told the whole truth, expressed ill-will on +the princess' part toward her future sister-in-law and a wish that +he should disapprove of Andrew's choice; but in reply he said what +he felt rather than what he thought. + +"I don't know how to answer your question," he said, blushing +without knowing why. "I really don't know what sort of girl she is; +I can't analyze her at all. She is enchanting, but what makes her so I +don't know. That is all one can say about her." + +Princess Mary sighed, and the expression on her face said: "Yes, +that's what I expected and feared." + +"Is she clever?" she asked. + +Pierre considered. + +"I think not," he said, "and yet- yes. She does not deign to be +clever.... Oh no, she is simply enchanting, and that is all." + +Princess Mary again shook her head disapprovingly. + +"Ah, I so long to like her! Tell her so if you see her before I do." + +"I hear they are expected very soon," said Pierre. + +Princess Mary told Pierre of her plan to become intimate with her +future sister-in-law as soon as the Rostovs arrived and to try to +accustom the old prince to her. + +CHAPTER V + +Boris had not succeeded in making a wealthy match in Petersburg, +so with the same object in view he came to Moscow. There he wavered +between the two richest heiresses, Julie and Princess Mary. Though +Princess Mary despite her plainness seemed to him more attractive than +Julie, he, without knowing why, felt awkward about paying court to +her. When they had last met on the old prince's name day, she had +answered at random all his attempts to talk sentimentally, evidently +not listening to what he was saying. + +Julie on the contrary accepted his attentions readily, though in a +manner peculiar to herself. + +She was twenty-seven. After the death of her brothers she had become +very wealthy. She was by now decidedly plain, but thought herself +not merely as good-looking as before but even far more attractive. She +was confirmed in this delusion by the fact that she had become a +very wealthy heiress and also by the fact that the older she grew +the less dangerous she became to men, and the more freely they could +associate with her and avail themselves of her suppers, soirees, and +the animated company that assembled at her house, without incurring +any obligation. A man who would have been afraid ten years before of +going every day to the house when there was a girl of seventeen there, +for fear of compromising her and committing himself, would now go +boldly every day and treat her not as a marriageable girl but as a +sexless acquaintance. + +That winter the Karagins' house was the most agreeable and +hospitable in Moscow. In addition to the formal evening and dinner +parties, a large company, chiefly of men, gathered there every day, +supping at midnight and staying till three in the morning. Julie never +missed a ball, a promenade, or a play. Her dresses were always of +the latest fashion. But in spite of that she seemed to be +disillusioned about everything and told everyone that she did not +believe either in friendship or in love, or any of the joys of life, +and expected peace only "yonder." She adopted the tone of one who +has suffered a great disappointment, like a girl who has either lost +the man she loved or been cruelly deceived by him. Though nothing of +the kind had happened to her she was regarded in that light, and had +even herself come to believe that she had suffered much in life. +This melancholy, which did not prevent her amusing herself, did not +hinder the young people who came to her house from passing the time +pleasantly. Every visitor who came to the house paid his tribute to +the melancholy mood of the hostess, and then amused himself with +society gossip, dancing, intellectual games, and bouts rimes, which +were in vogue at the Karagins'. Only a few of these young men, among +them Boris, entered more deeply into Julie's melancholy, and with +these she had prolonged conversations in private on the vanity of +all worldly things, and to them she showed her albums filled with +mournful sketches, maxims, and verses. + +To Boris, Julie was particularly gracious: she regretted his early +disillusionment with life, offered him such consolation of +friendship as she who had herself suffered so much could render, and +showed him her album. Boris sketched two trees in the album and wrote: +"Rustic trees, your dark branches shed gloom and melancholy upon me." + +On another page he drew a tomb, and wrote: + +_1 La mort est secourable et la mort est tranquille.<br> +Ah! contre les douleurs il n'y a pas d'autre asile.~^ + +^~ Death gives relief and death is peaceful. + +_1 Ah! from suffering there is no other refuge. + +Julia said this was charming + +"There is something so enchanting in the smile of melancholy," she +said to Boris, repeating word for word a passage she had copied from a +book. "It is a ray of light in the darkness, a shade between sadness +and despair, showing the possibility of consolation." + +In reply Boris wrote these lines: + +_1 Aliment de poison d'une ame trop sensible,<br> +Toi, sans qui le bonheur me serait impossible,<br> +Tendre melancholie, ah, viens me consoler,<br> +Viens calmer les tourments de ma sombre retraite,<br> +Et mele une douceur secrete<br> +A ces pleurs que je sens couler.~^ + +^~ Poisonous nourishment of a too sensitive soul, + +_1 Thou, without whom happiness would for me be impossible, + +_1 Tender melancholy, ah, come to console me, + +_1 Come to calm the torments of my gloomy retreat, + +_1 And mingle a secret sweetness + +_1 With these tears that I feel to be flowing. + +For Boris, Julie played most doleful nocturnes on her harp. Boris +read Poor Liza aloud to her, and more than once interrupted the +reading because of the emotions that choked him. Meeting at large +gatherings Julie and Boris looked on one another as the only souls who +understood one another in a world of indifferent people. + +Anna Mikhaylovna, who often visited the Karagins, while playing +cards with the mother made careful inquiries as to Julie's dowry +(she was to have two estates in Penza and the Nizhegorod forests). +Anna Mikhaylovna regarded the refined sadness that united her son to +the wealthy Julie with emotion, and resignation to the Divine will. + +"You are always charming and melancholy, my dear Julie," she said to +the daughter. "Boris says his soul finds repose at your house. He +has suffered so many disappointments and is so sensitive," said she to +the mother. "Ah, my dear, I can't tell you how fond I have grown of +Julie latterly," she said to her son. "But who could help loving +her? She is an angelic being! Ah, Boris, Boris!"- she paused. "And how +I pity her mother," she went on; "today she showed me her accounts and +letters from Penza (they have enormous estates there), and she, poor +thing, has no one to help her, and they do cheat her so!" + +Boris smiled almost imperceptibly while listening to his mother. +He laughed blandly at her naive diplomacy but listened to what she had +to say, and sometimes questioned her carefully about the Penza and +Nizhegorod estates. + +Julie had long been expecting a proposal from her melancholy +adorer and was ready to accept it; but some secret feeling of +repulsion for her, for her passionate desire to get married, for her +artificiality, and a feeling of horror at renouncing the possibility +of real love still restrained Boris. His leave was expiring. He +spent every day and whole days at the Karagins', and every day on +thinking the matter over told himself that he would propose +tomorrow. But in Julie's presence, looking at her red face and chin +(nearly always powdered), her moist eyes, and her expression of +continual readiness to pass at once from melancholy to an unnatural +rapture of married bliss, Boris could not utter the decisive words, +though in imagination he had long regarded himself as the possessor of +those Penza and Nizhegorod estates and had apportioned the use of +the income from them. Julie saw Boris' indecision, and sometimes the +thought occurred to her that she was repulsive to him, but her +feminine self-deception immediately supplied her with consolation, and +she told herself that he was only shy from love. Her melancholy, +however, began to turn to irritability, and not long before Boris' +departure she formed a definite plan of action. Just as Boris' leave +of absence was expiring, Anatole Kuragin made his appearance in +Moscow, and of course in the Karagins' drawing room, and Julie, +suddenly abandoning her melancholy, became cheerful and very attentive +to Kuragin. + +"My dear," said Anna Mikhaylovna to her son, "I know from a reliable +source that Prince Vasili has sent his son to Moscow to get him +married to Julie. I am so fond of Julie that I should be sorry for +her. What do you think of it, my dear?" + +The idea of being made a fool of and of having thrown away that +whole month of arduous melancholy service to Julie, and of seeing +all the revenue from the Penza estates which he had already mentally +apportioned and put to proper use fall into the hands of another, +and especially into the hands of that idiot Anatole, pained Boris. +He drove to the Karagins' with the firm intention of proposing. +Julie met him in a gay, careless manner, spoke casually of how she had +enjoyed yesterday's ball, and asked when he was leaving. Though +Boris had come intentionally to speak of his love and therefore +meant to be tender, he began speaking irritably of feminine +inconstancy, of how easily women can turn from sadness to joy, and how +their moods depend solely on who happens to be paying court to them. +Julie was offended and replied that it was true that a woman needs +variety, and the same thing over and over again would weary anyone. + +"Then I should advise you..." Boris began, wishing to sting her; but +at that instant the galling thought occurred to him that he might have +to leave Moscow without having accomplished his aim, and have vainly +wasted his efforts- which was a thing he never allowed to happen. + +He checked himself in the middle of the sentence, lowered his eyes +to avoid seeing her unpleasantly irritated and irresolute face, and +said: + +"I did not come here at all to quarrel with you. On the contrary..." + +He glanced at her to make sure that he might go on. Her irritability +had suddenly quite vanished, and her anxious, imploring eyes were +fixed on him with greedy expectation. "I can always arrange so as +not to see her often," thought Boris. "The affair has been begun and +must be finished!" He blushed hotly, raised his eyes to hers, and +said: + +"You know my feelings for you!" + +There was no need to say more: Julie's face shone with triumph and +self-satisfaction; but she forced Boris to say all that is said on +such occasions- that he loved her and had never loved any other +woman more than her. She knew that for the Penza estates and +Nizhegorod forests she could demand this, and she received what she +demanded. + +The affianced couple, no longer alluding to trees that shed gloom +and melancholy upon them, planned the arrangements of a splendid house +in Petersburg, paid calls, and prepared everything for a brilliant +wedding. + +CHAPTER VI + +At the end of January old Count Rostov went to Moscow with Natasha +and Sonya. The countess was still unwell and unable to travel but it +was impossible to wait for her recovery. Prince Andrew was expected in +Moscow any day, the trousseau had to be ordered and the estate near +Moscow had to be sold, besides which the opportunity of presenting his +future daughter-in-law to old Prince Bolkonski while he was in +Moscow could not be missed. The Rostovs' Moscow house had not been +heated that winter and, as they had come only for a short time and the +countess was not with them, the count decided to stay with Marya +Dmitrievna Akhrosimova, who had long been pressing her hospitality +on them. + +Late one evening the Rostovs' four sleighs drove into Marya +Dmitrievna's courtyard in the old Konyusheny street. Marya +Dmitrievna lived alone. She had already married off her daughter, +and her sons were all in the service. + +She held herself as erect, told everyone her opinion as candidly, +loudly, and bluntly as ever, and her whole bearing seemed a reproach +to others for any weakness, passion, or temptation- the possibility of +which she did not admit. From early in the morning, wearing a dressing +jacket, she attended to her household affairs, and then she drove out: +on holy days to church and after the service to jails and prisons on +affairs of which she never spoke to anyone. On ordinary days, after +dressing, she received petitioners of various classes, of whom there +were always some. Then she had dinner, a substantial and appetizing +meal at which there were always three or four guests; after dinner she +played a game of boston, and at night she had the newspapers or a +new book read to her while she knitted. She rarely made an exception +and went out to pay visits, and then only to the most important +persons in the town. + +She had not yet gone to bed when the Rostovs arrived and the +pulley of the hall door squeaked from the cold as it let in the +Rostovs and their servants. Marya Dmitrievna, with her spectacles +hanging down on her nose and her head flung back, stood in the hall +doorway looking with a stern, grim face at the new arrivals. One might +have thought she was angry with the travelers and would immediately +turn them out, had she not at the same time been giving careful +instructions to the servants for the accommodation of the visitors and +their belongings. + +"The count's things? Bring them here," she said, pointing to the +portmanteaus and not greeting anyone. "The young ladies'? There to the +left. Now what are you dawdling for?" she cried to the maids. "Get the +samovar ready!... You've grown plumper and prettier," she remarked, +drawing Natasha (whose cheeks were glowing from the cold) to her by +the hood. "Foo! You are cold! Now take off your things, quick!" she +shouted to the count who was going to kiss her hand. "You're half +frozen, I'm sure! Bring some rum for tea!... Bonjour, Sonya dear!" she +added, turning to Sonya and indicating by this French greeting her +slightly contemptuous though affectionate attitude toward her. + +When they came in to tea, having taken off their outdoor things +and tidied themselves up after their journey, Marya Dmitrievna +kissed them all in due order. + +"I'm heartily glad you have come and are staying with me. It was +high time," she said, giving Natasha a significant look. "The old +man is here and his son's expected any day. You'll have to make his +aquaintance. But we'll speak of that later on," she added, glancing at +Sonya with a look that showed she did not want to speak of it in her +presence. "Now listen," she said to the count. "What do you want +tomorrow? Whom will you send for? Shinshin?" she crooked one of her +fingers. "The sniveling Anna Mikhaylovna? That's two. She's here +with her son. The son is getting married! Then Bezukhov, eh? He is +here too, with his wife. He ran away from her and she came galloping +after him. He dined with me on Wednesday. As for them"- and she +pointed to the girls- "tomorrow I'll take them first to the Iberian +shrine of the Mother of God, and then we'll drive to the +Super-Rogue's. I suppose you'll have everything new. Don't judge by +me: sleeves nowadays are this size! The other day young Princess Irina +Vasilevna came to see me; she was an awful sight- looked as if she had +put two barrels on her arms. You know not a day passes now without +some new fashion.... And what have you to do yourself?" she asked +the count sternly. + +"One thing has come on top of another: her rags to buy, and now a +purchaser has turned up for the Moscow estate and for the house. If +you will be so kind, I'll fix a time and go down to the estate just +for a day, and leave my lassies with you." + +"All right. All right. They'll be safe with me, as safe as in +Chancery! I'll take them where they must go, scold them a bit, and pet +them a bit," said Marya Dmitrievna, touching her goddaughter and +favorite, Natasha, on the cheek with her large hand. + +Next morning Marya Dmitrievna took the young ladies to the Iberian +shrine of the Mother of God and to Madame Suppert-Roguet, who was so +afraid of Marya Dmitrievna that she always let her have costumes at +a loss merely to get rid of her. Marya Dmitrievna ordered almost the +whole trousseau. When they got home she turned everybody out of the +room except Nataisha, and then called her pet to her armchair. + +"Well, now we'll talk. I congratulate you on your betrothed. +You've hooked a fine fellow! I am glad for your sake and I've known +him since he was so high." She held her hand a couple of feet from the +ground. Natasha blushed happily. "I like him and all his family. Now +listen! You know that old Prince Nicholas much dislikes his son's +marrying. The old fellow's crotchety! Of course Prince Andrew is not a +child and can shift without him, but it's not nice to enter a family +against a father's will. One wants to do it peacefully and lovingly. +You're a clever girl and you'll know how to manage. Be kind, and use +your wits. Then all will be well." + +Natasha remained silent, from shyness Marya Dmitrievna supposed, but +really because she disliked anyone interfering in what touched her +love of Prince Andrew, which seemed to her so apart from all human +affairs that no one could understand it. She loved and knew Prince +Andrew, he loved her only, and was to come one of these days and +take her. She wanted nothing more. + +"You see I have known him a long time and am also fond of Mary, your +future sister-in-law. 'Husbands' sisters bring up blisters,' but +this one wouldn't hurt a fly. She has asked me to bring you two +together. Tomorrow you'll go with your father to see her. Be very nice +and affectionate to her: you're younger than she. When he comes, he'll +find you already know his sister and father and are liked by them. +Am I right or not? Won't that be best?" + +"Yes, it will," Natasha answered reluctantly. + +CHAPTER VII + +Next day, by Marya Dmitrievna's advice, Count Rostov took Natasha to +call on Prince Nicholas Bolkonski. The count did not set out +cheerfully on this visit, at heart he felt afraid. He well +remembered the last interview he had had with the old prince at the +time of the enrollment, when in reply to an invitation to dinner he +had had to listen to an angry reprimand for not having provided his +full quota of men. Natasha, on the other hand, having put on her +best gown, was in the highest spirits. "They can't help liking me," +she thought. "Everybody always has liked me, and I am so willing to do +anything they wish, so ready to be fond of him- for being his +father- and of her- for being his sister- that there is no reason +for them not to like me..." + +They drove up to the gloomy old house on the Vozdvizhenka and +entered the vestibule. + +"Well, the Lord have mercy on us!" said the count, half in jest, +half in earnest; but Natasha noticed that her father was flurried on +entering the anteroom and inquired timidly and softly whether the +prince and princess were at home. + +When they had been announced a perturbation was noticeable among the +servants. The footman who had gone to announce them was stopped by +another in the large hall and they whispered to one another. Then a +maidservant ran into the hall and hurriedly said something, mentioning +the princess. At last an old, cross looking footman came and announced +to the Rostovs that the prince was not receiving, but that the +princess begged them to walk up. The first person who came to meet the +visitors was Mademoiselle Bourienne. She greeted the father and +daughter with special politeness and showed them to the princess' +room. The princess, looking excited and nervous, her face flushed in +patches, ran in to meet the visitors, treading heavily, and vainly +trying to appear cordial and at ease. From the first glance Princess +Mary did not like Natasha. She thought her too fashionably dressed, +frivolously gay and vain. She did not at all realize that before +having seen her future sister-in-law she was prejudiced against her by +involuntary envy of her beauty, youth, and happiness, as well as by +jealousy of her brother's love for her. Apart from this insuperable +antipathy to her, Princess Mary was agitated just then because on +the Rostovs' being announced, the old prince had shouted that he did +not wish to see them, that Princess Mary might do so if she chose, but +they were not to be admitted to him. She had decided to receive +them, but feared lest the prince might at any moment indulge in some +freak, as he seemed much upset by the Rostovs' visit. + +"There, my dear princess, I've brought you my songstress," said +the count, bowing and looking round uneasily as if afraid the old +prince might appear. "I am so glad you should get to know one +another... very sorry the prince is still ailing," and after a few +more commonplace remarks he rose. "If you'll allow me to leave my +Natasha in your hands for a quarter of an hour, Princess, I'll drive +round to see Anna Semenovna, it's quite near in the Dogs' Square, +and then I'll come back for her." + +The count had devised this diplomatic ruse (as he afterwards told +his daughter) to give the future sisters-in-law an opportunity to talk +to one another freely, but another motive was to avoid the danger of +encountering the old prince, of whom he was afraid. He did not mention +this to his daughter, but Natasha noticed her father's nervousness and +anxiety and felt mortified by it. She blushed for him, grew still +angrier at having blushed, and looked at the princess with a bold +and defiant expression which said that she was not afraid of +anybody. The princess told the count that she would be delighted, +and only begged him to stay longer at Anna Semenovna's, and he +departed. + +Despite the uneasy glances thrown at her by Princess Mary- who +wished to have a tete-a-tete with Natasha- Mademoiselle Bourienne +remained in the room and persistently talked about Moscow amusements +and theaters. Natasha felt offended by the hesitation she had +noticed in the anteroom, by her father's nervousness, and by the +unnatural manner of the princess who- she thought- was making a +favor of receiving her, and so everything displeased her. She did +not like Princess Mary, whom she thought very plain, affected, and +dry. Natasha suddenly shrank into herself and involuntarily assumed an +offhand air which alienated Princess Mary still more. After five +minutes of irksome, constrained conversation, they heard the sound +of slippered feet rapidly approaching. Princess Mary looked +frightened. + +The door opened and the old prince, in a dress, ing gown and a white +nightcap, came in. + +"Ah, madam!" he began. "Madam, Countess... Countess Rostova, if I am +not mistaken... I beg you to excuse me, to excuse me... I did not +know, madam. God is my witness, I did not know you had honored us with +a visit, and I came in such a costume only to see my daughter. I beg +you to excuse me... God is my witness, I didn't know-" he repeated, +stressing the word "God" so unnaturally and so unpleasantly that +Princess Mary stood with downcast eyes not daring to look either at +her father or at Natasha. + +Nor did the latter, having risen and curtsied, know what to do. +Mademoiselle Bourienne alone smiled agreeably. + +"I beg you to excuse me, excuse me! God is my witness, I did not +know," muttered the old man, and after looking Natasha over from +head to foot he went out. + +Mademoiselle Bourienne was the first to recover herself after this +apparition and began speaking about the prince's indisposition. +Natasha and Princess Mary looked at one another in silence, and the +longer they did so without saying what they wanted to say, the greater +grew their antipathy to one another. + +When the count returned, Natasha was impolitely pleased and hastened +to get away: at that moment she hated the stiff, elderly princess, who +could place her in such an embarrassing position and had spent half an +hour with her without once mentioning Prince Andrew. "I couldn't begin +talking about him in the presence of that Frenchwoman," thought +Natasha. The same thought was meanwhile tormenting Princess Mary. +She knew what she ought to have said to Natasha, but she had been +unable to say it because Mademoiselle Bourienne was in the way, and +because, without knowing why, she felt it very difficult to speak of +the marriage. When the count was already leaving the room, Princess +Mary went up hurriedly to Natasha, took her by the hand, and said with +a deep sigh: + +"Wait, I must..." + +Natasha glanced at her ironically without knowing why. + +"Dear Natalie," said Princess Mary, "I want you to know that I am +glad my brother has found happiness...." + +She paused, feeling that she was not telling the truth. Natasha +noticed this and guessed its reason. + +"I think, Princess, it is not convenient to speak of that now," +she said with external dignity and coldness, though she felt the tears +choking her. + +"What have I said and what have I done?" thought she, as soon as she +was out of the room. + +They waited a long time for Natasha to come to dinner that day. +She sat in her room crying like a child, blowing her nose and sobbing. +Sonya stood beside her, kissing her hair. + +"Natasha, what is it about?" she asked. "What do they matter to you? +It will all pass, Natasha." + +"But if you only knew how offensive it was... as if I..." + +"Don't talk about it, Natasha. It wasn't your fault so why should +you mind? Kiss me," said Sonya. + +Natasha raised her head and, kissing her friend on the lips, pressed +her wet face against her. + +"I can't tell you, I don't know. No one's to blame," said Natasha- +"It's my fault. But it all hurts terribly. Oh, why doesn't he +come?..." + +She came in to dinner with red eyes. Marya Dmitrievna, who knew +how the prince had received the Rostovs, pretended not to notice how +upset Natasha was and jested resolutely and loudly at table with the +count and the other guests. + +CHAPTER VIII + +That evening the Rostovs went to the Opera, for which Marya +Dmitrievna had taken a box. + +Natasha did not want to go, but could not refuse Marya +Dmitrievna's kind offer which was intended expressly for her. When she +came ready dressed into the ballroom to await her father, and +looking in the large mirror there saw that she was pretty, very +pretty, she felt even more sad, but it was a sweet, tender sadness. + +"O God, if he were here now I would not behave as I did then, but +differently. I would not be silly and afraid of things, I would simply +embrace him, cling to him, and make him look at me with those +searching inquiring eyes with which he has so often looked at me, +and then I would make him laugh as he used to laugh. And his eyes- how +I see those eyes!" thought Natasha. "And what do his father and sister +matter to me? I love him alone, him, him, with that face and those +eyes, with his smile, manly and yet childlike.... No, I had better not +think of him; not think of him but forget him, quite forget him for +the present. I can't bear this waiting and I shall cry in a minute!" +and she turned away from the glass, making an effort not to cry. +"And how can Sonya love Nicholas so calmly and quietly and wait so +long and so patiently?" thought she, looking at Sonya, who also came +in quite ready, with a fan in her hand. "No, she's altogether +different. I can't!" + +Natasha at that moment felt so softened and tender that it was not +enough for her to love and know she was beloved, she wanted now, at +once, to embrace the man she loved, to speak and hear from him words +of love such as filled her heart. While she sat in the carriage beside +her father, pensively watching the lights of the street lamps +flickering on the frozen window, she felt still sadder and more in +love, and forgot where she was going and with whom. Having fallen into +the line of carriages, the Rostovs' carriage drove up to the +theater, its wheels squeaking over the snow. Natasha and Sonya, +holding up their dresses, jumped out quickly. The count got out helped +by the footmen, and, passing among men and women who were entering and +the program sellers, they all three went along the corridor to the +first row of boxes. Through the closed doors the music was already +audible. + +"Natasha, your hair!..." whispered Sonya. + +An attendant deferentially and quickly slipped before the ladies and +opened the door of their box. The music sounded louder and through the +door rows of brightly lit boxes in which ladies sat with bare arms and +shoulders, and noisy stalls brilliant with uniforms, glittered +before their eyes. A lady entering the next box shot a glance of +feminine envy at Natasha. The curtain had not yet risen and the +overture was being played. Natasha, smoothing her gown, went in with +Sonya and sat down, scanning the brilliant tiers of boxes opposite. +A sensation she had not experienced for a long time- that of +hundreds of eyes looking at her bare arms and neck- suddenly +affected her both agreeably and disagreeably and called up a whole +crowd of memories, desires and emotions associated with that feeling. + +The two remarkably pretty girls, Natasha and Sonya, with Count +Rostov who had not been seen in Moscow for a long time, attracted +general attention. Moreover, everybody knew vaguely of Natasha's +engagement to Prince Andrew, and knew that the Rostovs had lived in +the country ever since, and all looked with curiosity at a fiancee who +was making one of the best matches in Russia. + +Natasha's looks, as everyone told her, had improved in the +country, and that evening thanks to her agitation she was particularly +pretty. She struck those who saw her by her fullness of life and +beauty, combined with her indifference to everything about her. Her +black eyes looked at the crowd without seeking anyone, and her +delicate arm, bare to above the elbow, lay on the velvet edge of the +box, while, evidently unconsciously, she opened and closed her hand in +time to the music, crumpling her program. "Look, there's Alenina," +said Sonya, "with her mother, isn't it?" + +"Dear me, Michael Kirilovich has grown still stouter!" remarked +the count. + +"Look at our Anna Mikhaylovna- what a headdress she has on!" + +"The Karagins, Julie- and Boris with them. One can see at once +that they're engaged...." + +"Drubetskoy has proposed?" + +"Oh yes, I heard it today," said Shinshin, coming into the +Rostovs' box. + +Natasha looked in the direction in which her father's eyes were +turned and saw Julie sitting beside her mother with a happy look on +her face and a string of pearls round her thick red neck- which +Natasha knew was covered with powder. Behind them, wearing a smile and +leaning over with an ear to Julie's mouth, was Boris' handsome +smoothly brushed head. He looked the Rostovs from under his brows +and said something, smiling, to his betrothed. + +"They are talking about us, about me and him!" thought Natasha. "And +he no doubt is calming her jealousy of me. They needn't trouble +themselves! If only they knew how little I am concerned about any of +them." + +Behind them sat Anna Mikhaylovna wearing a green headdress and +with a happy look of resignation to the will of God on her face. Their +box was pervaded by that atmosphere of an affianced couple which +Natasha knew so well and liked so much. She turned away and suddenly +remembered all that had been so humiliating in her morning's visit. + +"What right has he not to wish to receive me into his family? Oh, +better not think of it- not till he comes back!" she told herself, and +began looking at the faces, some strange and some familiar, in the +stalls. In the front, in the very center, leaning back against the +orchestra rail, stood Dolokhov in a Persian dress, his curly hair +brushed up into a huge shock. He stood in full view of the audience, +well aware that he was attracting everyone's attention, yet as much at +ease as though he were in his own room. Around him thronged Moscow's +most brilliant young men, whom he evidently dominated. + +The count, laughing, nudged the blushing Sonya and pointed to her +former adorer. + +"Do you recognize him?" said he. "And where has he sprung from?" +he asked, turning to Shinshin. "Didn't he vanish somewhere?" + +"He did," replied Shinshin. "He was in the Caucasus and ran away +from there. They say he has been acting as minister to some ruling +prince in Persia, where he killed the Shah's brother. Now all the +Moscow ladies are mad about him! It's 'Dolokhov the Persian' that does +it! We never hear a word but Dolokhov is mentioned. They swear by him, +they offer him to you as they would a dish of choice sterlet. Dolokhov +and Anatole Kuragin have turned all our ladies' heads." + +A tall, beautiful woman with a mass of plaited hair and much exposed +plump white shoulders and neck, round which she wore a double string +of large pearls, entered the adjoining box rustling her heavy silk +dress and took a long time settling into her place. + +Natasha involuntarily gazed at that neck, those shoulders, and +pearls and coiffure, and admired the beauty of the shoulders and the +pearls. While Natasha was fixing her gaze on her for the second time +the lady looked round and, meeting the count's eyes, nodded to him and +smiled. She was the Countess Bezukhova, Pierre's wife, and the +count, who knew everyone in society, leaned over and spoke to her. + +"Have you been here long, Countess?" he inquired. "I'll call, I'll +call to kiss your hand. I'm here on business and have brought my girls +with me. They say Semenova acts marvelously. Count Pierre never used +to forget us. Is he here?" + +"Yes, he meant to look in," answered Helene, and glanced attentively +at Natasha. + +Count Rostov resumed his seat. + +"Handsome, isn't she?" he whispered to Natasha. + +"Wonderful!" answered Natasha. "She's a woman one could easily +fall in love with." + +Just then the last chords of the overture were heard and the +conductor tapped with his stick. Some latecomers took their seats in +the stalls, and the curtain rose. + +As soon as it rose everyone in the boxes and stalls became silent, +and all the men, old and young, in uniform and evening dress, and +all the women with gems on their bare flesh, turned their whole +attention with eager curiosity to the stage. Natasha too began to look +at it. + +CHAPTER IX + +The floor of the stage consisted of smooth boards, at the sides +was some painted cardboard representing trees, and at the back was a +cloth stretched over boards. In the center of the stage sat some girls +in red bodices and white skirts. One very fat girl in a white silk +dress sat apart on a low bench, to the back of which a piece of +green cardboard was glued. They all sang something. When they had +finished their song the girl in white went up to the prompter's box +and a man with tight silk trousers over his stout legs, and holding +a plume and a dagger, went up to her and began singing, waving his +arms about. + +First the man in the tight trousers sang alone, then she sang, +then they both paused while the orchestra played and the man +fingered the hand of the girl in white, obviously awaiting the beat to +start singing with her. They sang together and everyone in the theater +began clapping and shouting, while the man and woman on the stage- who +represented lovers- began smiling, spreading out their arms, and +bowing. + +After her life in the country, and in her present serious mood, +all this seemed grotesque and amazing to Natasha. She could not follow +the opera nor even listen to the music; she saw only the painted +cardboard and the queerly dressed men and women who moved, spoke, +and sang so strangely in that brilliant light. She knew what it was +all meant to represent, but it was so pretentiously false and +unnatural that she first felt ashamed for the actors and then amused +at them. She looked at the faces of the audience, seeking in them +the same sense of ridicule and perplexity she herself experienced, but +they all seemed attentive to what was happening on the stage, and +expressed delight which to Natasha seemed feigned. "I suppose it has +to be like this!" she thought. She kept looking round in turn at the +rows of pomaded heads in the stalls and then at the seminude women +in the boxes, especially at Helene in the next box, who- apparently +quite unclothed- sat with a quiet tranquil smile, not taking her +eyes off the stage. And feeling the bright light that flooded the +whole place and the warm air heated by the crowd, Natasha little by +little began to pass into a state of intoxication she had not +experienced for a long while. She did not realize who and where she +was, nor what was going on before her. As she looked and thought, +the strangest fancies unexpectedly and disconnectedly passed through +her mind: the idea occurred to her of jumping onto the edge of the box +and singing the air the actress was singing, then she wished to +touch with her fan an old gentleman sitting not far from her, then +to lean over to Helene and tickle her. + +At a moment when all was quiet before the commencement of a song, +a door leading to the stalls on the side nearest the Rostovs' box +creaked, and the steps of a belated arrival were heard. "There's +Kuragin!" whispered Shinshin. Countess Bezukhova turned smiling to the +newcomer, and Natasha, following the direction of that look, saw an +exceptionally handsome adjutant approaching their box with a +self-assured yet courteous bearing. This was Anatole Kuragin whom +she had seen and noticed long ago at the ball in Petersburg. He was +now in an adjutant's uniform with one epaulet and a shoulder knot. +He moved with a restrained swagger which would have been ridiculous +had he not been so good-looking and had his handsome face not worn +such an expression of good-humored complacency and gaiety. Though +the performance was proceeding, he walked deliberately down the +carpeted gangway, his sword and spurs slightly jingling and his +handsome perfumed head held high. Having looked at Natasha he +approached his sister, laid his well gloved hand on the edge of her +box, nodded to her, and leaning forward asked a question, with a +motion toward Natasha. + +"Mais charmante!" said he, evidently referring to Natasha, who did +not exactly hear his words but understood them from the movement of +his lips. Then he took his place in the first row of the stalls and +sat down beside Dolokhov, nudging with his elbow in a friendly and +offhand way that Dolokhov whom others treated so fawningly. He +winked at him gaily, smiled, and rested his foot against the orchestra +screen. + +"How like the brother is to the sister," remarked the count. "And +how handsome they both are!" + +Shinshin, lowering his voice, began to tell the count of some +intrigue of Kuragin's in Moscow, and Natasha tried to overhear it just +because he had said she was "charmante." + +The first act was over. In the stalls everyone began moving about, +going out and coming in. + +Boris came to the Rostovs' box, received their congratulations +very simply, and raising his eyebrows with an absent-minded smile +conveyed to Natasha and Sonya his fiancee's invitation to her wedding, +and went away. Natasha with a gay, coquettish smile talked to him, and +congratulated on his approaching wedding that same Boris with whom she +had formerly been in love. In the state of intoxication she was in, +everything seemed simple and natural. + +The scantily clad Helene smiled at everyone in the same way, and +Natasha gave Boris a similar smile. + +Helene's box was filled and surrounded from the stalls by the most +distinguished and intellectual men, who seemed to vie with one another +in their wish to let everyone see that they knew her. + +During the whole of that entr'acte Kuragin stood with Dolokhov in +front of the orchestra partition, looking at the Rostovs' box. Natasha +knew he was talking about her and this afforded her pleasure. She even +turned so that he should see her profile in what she thought was its +most becoming aspect. Before the beginning of the second act Pierre +appeared in the stalls. The Rostovs had not seen him since their +arrival. His face looked sad, and he had grown still stouter since +Natasha last saw him. He passed up to the front rows, not noticing +anyone. Anatole went up to him and began speaking to him, looking at +and indicating the Rostovs' box. On seeing Natasha Pierre grew +animated and, hastily passing between the rows, came toward their box. +When he got there he leaned on his elbows and, smiling, talked to +her for a long time. While conversing with Pierre, Natasha heard a +man's voice in Countess Bezukhova's box and something told her it +was Kuragin. She turned and their eyes met. Almost smiling, he gazed +straight into her eyes with such an enraptured caressing look that +it seemed strange to be so near him, to look at him like that, to be +so sure he admired her, and not to be acquainted with him. + +In the second act there was scenery representing tombstones, there +was a round hole in the canvas to represent the moon, shades were +raised over the footlights, and from horns and contrabass came deep +notes while many people appeared from right and left wearing black +cloaks and holding things like daggers in their hands. They began +waving their arms. Then some other people ran in and began dragging +away the maiden who had been in white and was now in light blue. +They did not drag her away at once, but sang with her for a long +time and then at last dragged her off, and behind the scenes something +metallic was struck three times and everyone knelt down and sang a +prayer. All these things were repeatedly interrupted by the +enthusiastic shouts of the audience. + +During this act every time Natasha looked toward the stalls she +saw Anatole Kuragin with an arm thrown across the back of his chair, +staring at her. She was pleased to see that he was captivated by her +and it did not occur to her that there was anything wrong in it. + +When the second act was over Countess Bezukhova rose, turned to +the Rostovs' box- her whole bosom completely exposed- beckoned the old +count with a gloved finger, and paying no attention to those who had +entered her box began talking to him with an amiable smile. + +"Do make me acquainted with your charming daughters," said she. "The +whole town is singing their praises and I don't even know then!" + +Natasha rose and curtsied to the splendid countess. She was so +pleased by praise from this brilliant beauty that she blushed with +pleasure. + +"I want to become a Moscovite too, now," said Helene. "How is it +you're not ashamed to bury such pearls in the country?" + +Countess Bezukhova quite deserved her reputation of being a +fascinating woman. She could say what she did not think- especially +what was flattering- quite simply and naturally. + +"Dear count, you must let me look after your daughters! Though I +am not staying here long this time- nor are you- I will try to amuse +them. I have already heard much of you in Petersburg and wanted to get +to know you," said she to Natasha with her stereotyped and lovely +smile. "I had heard about you from my page, Drubetskoy. Have you heard +he is getting married? And also from my husband's friend Bolkonski, +Prince Andrew Bolkonski," she went on with special emphasis, +implying that she knew of his relation to Natasha. To get better +acquainted she asked that one of the young ladies should come into her +box for the rest of the performance, and Natasha moved over to it. + +The scene of the third act represented a palace in which many +candles were burning and pictures of knights with short beards hung on +the walls. In the middle stood what were probably a king and a +queen. The king waved his right arm and, evidently nervous, sang +something badly and sat down on a crimson throne. The maiden who had +been first in white and then in light blue, now wore only a smock, and +stood beside the throne with her hair down. She sang something +mournfully, addressing the queen, but the king waved his arm severely, +and men and women with bare legs came in from both sides and began +dancing all together. Then the violins played very shrilly and merrily +and one of the women with thick bare legs and thin arms, separating +from the others, went behind the wings, adjusted her bodice, +returned to the middle of the stage, and began jumping and striking +one foot rapidly against the other. In the stalls everyone clapped and +shouted "bravo!" Then one of the men went into a corner of the +stage. The cymbals and horns in the orchestra struck up more loudly, +and this man with bare legs jumped very high and waved his feet +about very rapidly. (He was Duport, who received sixty thousand rubles +a year for this art.) Everybody in the stalls, boxes, and galleries +began clapping and shouting with all their might, and the man +stopped and began smiling and bowing to all sides. Then other men +and women danced with bare legs. Then the king again shouted to the +sound of music, and they all began singing. But suddenly a storm +came on, chromatic scales and diminished sevenths were heard in the +orchestra, everyone ran off, again dragging one of their number +away, and the curtain dropped. Once more there was a terrible noise +and clatter among the audience, and with rapturous faces everyone +began shouting: "Duport! Duport! Duport!" Natasha no longer thought +this strange. She look about with pleasure, smiling joyfully. + +"Isn't Duport delightful?" Helene asked her. + +"Oh, yes," replied Natasha. + +CHAPTER X + +During the entr'acte a whiff of cold air came into Helene's box, the +door opened, and Anatole entered, stooping and trying not to brush +against anyone. + +"Let me introduce my brother to you," said Helene, her eyes shifting +uneasily from Natasha to Anatole. + +Natasha turned her pretty little head toward the elegant young +officer and smiled at him over her bare shoulder. Anatole, who was +as handsome at close quarters as at a distance, sat down beside her +and told her he had long wished to have this happiness- ever since the +Naryshkins' ball in fact, at which he had had the well-remembered +pleasure of seeing her. Kuragin was much more sensible and simple with +women than among men. He talked boldly and naturally, and Natasha +was strangely and agreeably struck by the fact that there was +nothing formidable in this man about whom there was so much talk, +but that on the contrary his smile was most naive, cheerful, and +good-natured. + +Kuragin asked her opinion of the performance and told her how at a +previous performance Semenova had fallen down on the stage. + +"And do you know, Countess," he said, suddenly addressing her as +an old, familiar acquaintance, "we are getting up a costume +tournament; you ought to take part in it! It will be great fun. We +shall all meet at the Karagins'! Please come! No! Really, eh?" said +he. + +While saying this he never removed his smiling eyes from her face, +her neck, and her bare arms. Natasha knew for certain that he was +enraptured by her. This pleased her, yet his presence made her feel +constrained and oppressed. When she was not looking at him she felt +that he was looking at her shoulders, and she involuntarily caught his +eye so that he should look into hers rather than this. But looking +into his eyes she was frightened, realizing that there was not that +barrier of modesty she had always felt between herself and other +men. She did not know how it was that within five minutes she had come +to feel herself terribly near to this man. When she turned away she +feared he might seize her from behind by her bare arm and kiss her +on the neck. They spoke of most ordinary things, yet she felt that +they were closer to one another than she had ever been to any man. +Natasha kept turning to Helene and to her father, as if asking what it +all meant, but Helene was engaged in conversation with a general and +did not answer her look, and her father's eyes said nothing but what +they always said: "Having a good time? Well, I'm glad of it!" + +During one of these moments of awkward silence when Anatole's +prominent eyes were gazing calmly and fixedly at her, Natasha, to +break the silence, asked him how he liked Moscow. She asked the +question and blushed. She felt all the time that by talking to him she +was doing something improper. Anatole smiled as though to encourage +her. + +"At first I did not like it much, because what makes a town pleasant +ce sont les jolies femmes,~^ isn't that so? But now I like it very much +indeed," he said, looking at her significantly. "You'll come to the +costume tournament, Countess? Do come!" and putting out his hand to +her bouquet and dropping his voice, he added, "You will be the +prettiest there. Do come, dear countess, and give me this flower as +a pledge!" + +^~ Are the pretty women. + +Natasha did not understand what he was saying any more than he did +himself, but she felt that his incomprehensible words had an +improper intention. She did not know what to say and turned away as if +she had not heard his remark. But as soon as she had turned away she +felt that he was there, behind, so close behind her. + +"How is he now? Confused? Angry? Ought I to put it right?" she asked +herself, and she could not refrain from turning round. She looked +straight into his eyes, and his nearness, self-assurance, and the +good-natured tenderness of his smile vanquished her. She smiled just +as he was doing, gazing straight into his eyes. And again she felt +with horror that no barrier lay between him and her. + +The curtain rose again. Anatole left the box, serene and gay. +Natasha went back to her father in the other box, now quite submissive +to the world she found herself in. All that was going on before her +now seemed quite natural, but on the other hand all her previous +thoughts of her betrothed, of Princess Mary, or of life in the country +did not once recur to her mind and were as if belonging to a remote +past. + +In the fourth act there was some sort of devil who sang waving his +arm about, till the boards were withdrawn from under him and he +disappeared down below. That was the only part of the fourth act +that Natasha saw. She felt agitated and tormented, and the cause of +this was Kuragin whom she could not help watching. As they were +leaving the theater Anatole came up to them, called their carriage, +and helped them in. As he was putting Natasha in he pressed her arm +above the elbow. Agitated and flushed she turned round. He was looking +at her with glittering eyes, smiling tenderly. + +Only after she had reached home was Natasha able clearly to think +over what had happened to her, and suddenly remembering Prince +Andrew she was horrified, and at tea to which all had sat down after +the opera, she gave a loud exclamation, flushed, and ran out of the +room. + +"O God! I am lost!" she said to herself. "How could I let him?" +She sat for a long time hiding her flushed face in her hands trying to +realize what had happened to her, but was unable either to +understand what had happened or what she felt. Everything seemed dark, +obscure, and terrible. There in that enormous, illuminated theater +where the bare-legged Duport, in a tinsel-decorated jacket, jumped +about to the music on wet boards, and young girls and old men, and the +nearly naked Helene with her proud, calm smile, rapturously cried +"bravo!"- there in the presence of that Helene it had all seemed clear +and simple; but now, alone by herself, it was incomprehensible. +"What is it? What was that terror I felt of him? What is this +gnawing of conscience I am feeling now?" she thought. + +Only to the old countess at night in bed could Natasha have told all +she was feeling. She knew that Sonya with her severe and simple +views would either not understand it at all or would be horrified at +such a confession. So Natasha tried to solve what was torturing her by +herself. + +"Am I spoiled for Andrew's love or not?" she asked herself, and with +soothing irony replied: "What a fool I am to ask that! What did happen +to me? Nothing! I have done nothing, I didn't lead him on at all. +Nobody will know and I shall never see him again," she told herself. +"So it is plain that nothing has happened and there is nothing to +repent of, and Andrew can love me still. But why 'still?' O God, why +isn't he here?" Natasha quieted herself for a moment, but again some +instinct told her that though all this was true, and though nothing +had happened, yet the former purity of her love for Prince Andrew +had perished. And again in imagination she went over her whole +conversation with Kuragin, and again saw the face, gestures, and +tender smile of that bold handsome man when he pressed her arm. + +CHAPTER XI + +Anatole Kuragin was staying in Moscow because his father had sent +him away from Petersburg, where he had been spending twenty thousand +rubles a year in cash, besides running up debts for as much more, +which his creditors demanded from his father. + +His father announced to him that he would now pay half his debts for +the last time, but only on condition that he went to Moscow as +adjutant to the commander in chief- a post his father had procured for +him- and would at last try to make a good match there. He indicated to +him Princess Mary and Julie Karagina. + +Anatole consented and went to Moscow, where he put up at Pierre's +house. Pierre received him unwillingly at first, but got used to him +after a while, sometimes even accompanied him on his carousals, and +gave him money under the guise of loans. + +As Shinshin had remarked, from the time of his arrival Anatole had +turned the heads of the Moscow ladies, especially by the fact that +he slighted them and plainly preferred the gypsy girls and French +actresses- with the chief of whom, Mademoiselle George, he was said to +be on intimate relations. He had never missed a carousal at +Danilov's or other Moscow revelers', drank whole nights through, +outvying everyone else, and was at all the balls and parties of the +best society. There was talk of his intrigues with some of the ladies, +and he flirted with a few of them at the balls. But he did not run +after the unmarried girls, especially the rich heiresses who were most +of them plain. There was a special reason for this, as he had got +married two years before- a fact known only to his most intimate +friends. At that time while with his regiment in Poland, a Polish +landowner of small means had forced him to marry his daughter. Anatole +had very soon abandoned his wife and, for a payment which he agreed to +send to his father-in-law, had arranged to be free to pass himself off +as a bachelor. + +Anatole was always content with his position, with himself, and with +others. He was instinctively and thoroughly convinced that was +impossible for him to live otherwise than as he did and that he had +never in his life done anything base. He was incapable of +considering how his actions might affect others or what the +consequences of this or that action of his might be. He was +convinced that, as a duck is so made that it must live in water, so +God had made him such that he must spend thirty thousand rubles a year +and always occupy a prominent position in society. He believed this so +firmly that others, looking at him, were persuaded of it too and did +not refuse him either a leading place in society or money, which he +borrowed from anyone and everyone and evidently would not repay. + +He was not a gambler, at any rate he did not care about winning. +He was not vain. He did not mind what people thought of him. Still +less could he be accused of ambition. More than once he had vexed +his father by spoiling his own career, and he laughed at +distinctions of all kinds. He was not mean, and did not refuse +anyone who asked of him. All he cared about was gaiety and women, +and as according to his ideas there was nothing dishonorable in +these tastes, and he was incapable of considering what the +gratification of his tastes entailed for others, he honestly +considered himself irreproachable, sincerely despised rogues and bad +people, and with a tranquil conscience carried his head high. + +Rakes, those male Magdalenes, have a secret feeling of innocence +similar to that which female Magdalenes have, based on the same hope +of forgiveness. "All will be forgiven her, for she loved much; and all +will be forgiven him, for he enjoyed much." + +Dolokhov, who had reappeared that year in Moscow after his exile and +his Persian adventures, and was leading a life of luxury, gambling, +and dissipation, associated with his old Petersburg comrade Kuragin +and made use of him for his own ends. + +Anatole was sincerely fond of Dolokhov for his cleverness and +audacity. Dolokhov, who needed Anatole Kuragin's name, position, and +connections as a bait to draw rich young men into his gambling set, +made use of him and amused himself at his expense without letting +the other feel it. Apart from the advantage he derived from Anatole, +the very process of dominating another's will was in itself a +pleasure, a habit, and a necessity to Dolokhov. + +Natasha had made a strong impression on Kuragin. At supper after the +opera he described to Dolokhov with the air of a connoisseur the +attractions of her arms, shoulders, feet, and hair and expressed his +intention of making love to her. Anatole had no notion and was +incapable of considering what might come of such love-making, as he +never had any notion of the outcome of any of his actions. + +"She's first-rate, my dear fellow, but not for us," replied +Dolokhov. + +"I will tell my sister to ask her to dinner," said Anatole. "Eh?" + +"You'd better wait till she's married...." + +"You know, I adore little girls, they lose their heads at once," +pursued Anatole. + +"You have been caught once already by a 'little girl,'" said +Dolokhov who knew of Kuragin's marriage. "Take care!" + +"Well, that can't happen twice! Eh?" said Anatole, with a +good-humored laugh. + +CHAPTER XII + +The day after the opera the Rostovs went nowhere and nobody came +to see them. Marya Dmitrievna talked to the count about something +which they concealed from Natasha. Natasha guessed they were talking +about the old prince and planning something, and this disquieted and +offended her. She was expecting Prince Andrew any moment and twice +that day sent a manservant to the Vozdvizhenka to ascertain whether he +had come. He had not arrived. She suffered more now than during her +first days in Moscow. To her impatience and pining for him were now +added the unpleasant recollection of her interview with Princess +Mary and the old prince, and a fear and anxiety of which she did not +understand the cause. She continually fancied that either he would +never come or that something would happen to her before he came. She +could no longer think of him by herself calmly and continuously as she +had done before. As soon as she began to think of him, the +recollection of the old prince, of Princess Mary, of the theater, +and of Kuragin mingled with her thoughts. The question again presented +itself whether she was not guilty, whether she had not already +broken faith with Prince Andrew, and again she found herself recalling +to the minutest detail every word, every gesture, and every shade in +the play of expression on the face of the man who had been able to +arouse in her such an incomprehensible and terrifying feeling. To +the family Natasha seemed livelier than usual, but she was far less +tranquil and happy than before. + +On Sunday morning Marya Dmitrievna invited her visitors to Mass at +her parish church- the Church of the Assumption built over the +graves of victims of the plague. + +"I don't like those fashionable churches," she said, evidently +priding herself on her independence of thought. "God is the same every +where. We have an excellent priest, he conducts the service decently +and with dignity, and the deacon is the same. What holiness is there +in giving concerts in the choir? I don't like it, it's just +self-indulgence!" + +Marya Dmitrievna liked Sundays and knew how to keep them. Her +whole house was scrubbed and cleaned on Saturdays; neither she nor the +servants worked, and they all wore holiday dress and went to church. +At her table there were extra dishes at dinner, and the servants had +vodka and roast goose or suckling pig. But in nothing in the house was +the holiday so noticeable as in Marya Dmitrievna's broad, stern +face, which on that day wore an invariable look of solemn festivity. + +After Mass, when they had finished their coffee in the dining room +where the loose covers had been removed from the furniture, a +servant announced that the carriage was ready, and Marya Dmitrievna +rose with a stern air. She wore her holiday shawl, in which she paid +calls, and announced that she was going to see Prince Nicholas +Bolkonski to have an explanation with him about Natasha. + +After she had gone, a dressmaker from Madame Suppert-Roguet waited +on the Rostovs, and Natasha, very glad of this diversion, having +shut herself into a room adjoining the drawing room, occupied +herself trying on the new dresses. Just as she had put on a bodice +without sleeves and only tacked together, and was turning her head +to see in the glass how the back fitted, she heard in the drawing room +the animated sounds of her father's voice and another's- a woman's- +that made her flush. It was Helene. Natasha had not time to take off +the bodice before the door opened and Countess Bezukhova, dressed in a +purple velvet gown with a high collar, came into the room beaming with +good-humored amiable smiles. + +"Oh, my enchantress!" she cried to the blushing Natasha. +"Charming! No, this is really beyond anything, my dear count," said +she to Count Rostov who had followed her in. "How can you live in +Moscow and go nowhere? No, I won't let you off! Mademoiselle George +will recite at my house tonight and there'll be some people, and if +you don't bring your lovely girls- who are prettier than +Mademoiselle George- I won't know you! My husband is away in Tver or I +would send him to fetch you. You must come. You positively must! +Between eight and nine." + +She nodded to the dressmaker, whom she knew and who had curtsied +respectfully to her, and seated herself in an armchair beside the +looking glass, draping the folds of her velvet dress picturesquely. +She did not cease chattering good-naturedly and gaily, continually +praising Natasha's beauty. She looked at Natasha's dresses and praised +them, as well as a new dress of her own made of "metallic gauze," +which she had received from Paris, and advised Natasha to have one +like it. + +"But anything suits you, my charmer!" she remarked. + +A smile of pleasure never left Natasha's face. She felt happy and as +if she were blossoming under the praise of this dear Countess +Bezukhova who had formerly seemed to her so unapproachable and +important and was now so kind to her. Natasha brightened up and felt +almost in love with this woman, who was so beautiful and so kind. +Helene for her part was sincerely delighted with Natasha and wished to +give her a good time. Anatole had asked her to bring him and Natasha +together, and she was calling on the Rostovs for that purpose. The +idea of throwing her brother and Natasha together amused her. + +Though at one time, in Petersburg, she had been annoyed with Natasha +for drawing Boris away, she did not think of that now, and in her +own way heartily wished Natasha well. As she was leaving the Rostovs +she called her protegee aside. + +"My brother dined with me yesterday- we nearly died of laughter- +he ate nothing and kept sighing for you, my charmer! He is madly, +quite madly, in love with you, my dear." + +Natasha blushed scarlet when she heard this. + +"How she blushes, how she blushes, my pretty!" said Helene. "You +must certainly come. If you love somebody, my charmer, that is not a +reason to shut yourself up. Even if you are engaged, I am sure your +fiance would wish you to go into society rather than be bored to +death." + +"So she knows I am engaged, and she and her husband Pierre- that +good Pierre- have talked and laughed about this. So it's all right." +And again, under Helene's influence, what had seemed terrible now +seemed simple and natural. "And she is such a grande dame, so kind, +and evidently likes me so much. And why not enjoy myself?" thought +Natasha, gazing at Helene with wide-open, wondering eyes. + +Marya Dmitrievna came back to dinner taciturn and serious, having +evidently suffered a defeat at the old prince's. She was still too +agitated by the encounter to be able to talk of the affair calmly. +In answer to the count's inquiries she replied that things were all +right and that she would tell about it next day. On hearing of +Countess Bezukhova's visit and the invitation for that evening, +Marya Dmitrievna remarked: + +"I don't care to have anything to do with Bezukhova and don't advise +you to; however, if you've promised- go. It will divert your +thoughts," she added, addressing Natasha. + +CHAPTER XIII + +Count Rostov took the girls to Countess Bezukhova's. There were a +good many people there, but nearly all strangers to Natasha. Count +Rostov was displeased to see that the company consisted almost +entirely of men and women known for the freedom of their conduct. +Mademoiselle George was standing in a corner of the drawing room +surrounded by young men. There were several Frenchmen present, among +them Metivier who from the time Helene reached Moscow had been an +intimate in her house. The count decided not to sit down to cards or +let his girls out of his sight and to get away as soon as Mademoiselle +George's performance was over. + +Anatole was at the door, evidently on the lookout for the Rostovs. +Immediately after greeting the count he went up to Natasha and +followed her. As soon as she saw him she was seized by the same +feeling she had had at the opera- gratified vanity at his admiration +of her and fear at the absence of a moral barrier between them. + +Helene welcomed Natasha delightedly and was loud in admiration of +her beauty and her dress. Soon after their arrival Mademoiselle George +went out of the room to change her costume. In the drawing room people +began arranging the chairs and taking their seats. Anatole moved a +chair for Natasha and was about to sit down beside her, but the count, +who never lost sight of her, took the seat himself. Anatole sat down +behind her. + +Mademoiselle George, with her bare, fat, dimpled arms, and a red +shawl draped over one shoulder, came into the space left vacant for +her, and assumed an unnatural pose. Enthusiastic whispering was +audible. + +Mademoiselle George looked sternly and gloomily at the audience +and began reciting some French verses describing her guilty love for +her son. In some places she raised her voice, in others she whispered, +lifting her head triumphantly; sometimes she paused and uttered hoarse +sounds, rolling her eyes. + +"Adorable! divine! delicious!" was heard from every side. + +Natasha looked at the fat actress, but neither saw nor heard nor +understood anything of what went on before her. She only felt +herself again completely borne away into this strange senseless world- +so remote from her old world- a world in which it was impossible to +know what was good or bad, reasonable or senseless. Behind her sat +Anatole, and conscious of his proximity she experienced a frightened +sense of expectancy. + +After the first monologue the whole company rose and surrounded +Mademoiselle George, expressing their enthusiasm. + +"How beautiful she is!" Natasha remarked to her father who had +also risen and was moving through the crowd toward the actress. + +"I don't think so when I look at you!" said Anatole, following +Natasha. He said this at a moment when she alone could hear him. +"You are enchanting... from the moment I saw you I have never +ceased..." + +"Come, come, Natasha!" said the count, as he turned back for his +daughter. "How beautiful she is!" Natasha without saying anything +stepped up to her father and looked at him with surprised inquiring +eyes. + +After giving several recitations, Mademoiselle George left, and +Countess Bezukhova asked her visitors into the ballroom. + +The count wished to go home, but Helene entreated him not to spoil +her improvised ball, and the Rostovs stayed on. Anatole asked +Natasha for a valse and as they danced he pressed her waist and hand +and told her she was bewitching and that he loved her. During the +ecossaise, which she also danced with him, Anatole said nothing when +they happened to be by themselves, but merely gazed at her. Natasha +lifted her frightened eyes to him, but there was such confident +tenderness in his affectionate look and smile that she could not, +whilst looking at him, say what she had to say. She lowered her eyes. + +"Don't say such things to me. I am betrothed and love another," +she said rapidly.... She glanced at him. + +Anatole was not upset or pained by what she had said. + +"Don't speak to me of that! What can I do?" said he. "I tell you I +am madly, madly, in love with you! Is it my fault that you are +enchanting?... It's our turn to begin." + +Natasha, animated and excited, looked about her with wide-open +frightened eyes and seemed merrier than usual. She understood hardly +anything that went on that evening. They danced the ecossaise and +the Grossvater. Her father asked her to come home, but she begged to +remain. Wherever she went and whomever she was speaking to, she felt +his eyes upon her. Later on she recalled how she had asked her +father to let her go to the dressing room to rearrange her dress, that +Helene had followed her and spoken laughingly of her brother's love, +and that she again met Anatole in the little sitting room. Helene +had disappeared leaving them alone, and Anatole had taken her hand and +said in a tender voice: + +"I cannot come to visit you but is it possible that I shall never +see you? I love you madly. Can I never...?" and, blocking her path, he +brought his face close to hers. + +His large, glittering, masculine eyes were so close to hers that she +saw nothing but them. + +"Natalie?" he whispered inquiringly while she felt her hands being +painfully pressed. "Natalie?" + +"I don't understand. I have nothing to say," her eyes replied. + +Burning lips were pressed to hers, and at the same instant she +felt herself released, and Helene's footsteps and the rustle of her +dress were heard in the room. Natasha looked round at her, and then, +red and trembling, threw a frightened look of inquiry at Anatole and +moved toward the door. + +"One word, just one, for God's sake!" cried Anatole. + +She paused. She so wanted a word from him that would explain to +her what had happened and to which she could find no answer. + +"Natalie, just a word, only one!" he kept repeating, evidently not +knowing what to say and he repeated it till Helene came up to them. + +Helene returned with Natasha to the drawing room. The Rostovs went +away without staying for supper. + +After reaching home Natasha did not sleep all night. She was +tormented by the insoluble question whether she loved Anatole or +Prince Andrew. She loved Prince Andrew- she remembered distinctly +how deeply she loved him. But she also loved Anatole, of that there +was no doubt. "Else how could all this have happened?" thought she. +"If, after that, I could return his smile when saying good-by, if I +was able to let it come to that, it means that I loved him from the +first. It means that he is kind, noble, and splendid, and I could +not help loving him. What am I to do if I love him and the other one +too?" she asked herself, unable to find an answer to these terrible +questions. + +CHAPTER XIV + +Morning came with its cares and bustle. Everyone got up and began to +move about and talk, dressmakers came again. Marya Dmitrievna +appeared, and they were called to breakfast. Natasha kept looking +uneasily at everybody with wide-open eyes, as if wishing to +intercept every glance directed toward her, and tried to appear the +same as usual. + +After breakfast, which was her best time, Marya Dmitrievna sat +down in her armchair and called Natasha and the count to her. + +"Well, friends, I have now thought the whole matter over and this is +my advice," she began. "Yesterday, as you know, I went to see Prince +Bolkonski. Well, I had a talk with him.... He took it into his head to +begin shouting, but I am not one to be shouted down. I said what I had +to say!" + +"Well, and he?" asked the count. + +"He? He's crazy... he did not want to listen. But what's the use +of talking? As it is we have worn the poor girl out," said Marya +Dmitrievna. "My advice to you is finish your business and go back home +to Otradnoe... and wait there." + +"Oh, no!" exclaimed Natasha. + +"Yes, go back," said Marya Dmitrievna, "and wait there. If your +betrothed comes here now- there will be no avoiding a quarrel; but +alone with the old man he will talk things over and then come on to +you." + +Count Rostov approved of this suggestion, appreciating its +reasonableness. If the old man came round it would be all the better +to visit him in Moscow or at Bald Hills later on; and if not, the +wedding, against his wishes, could only be arranged at Otradnoe. + +"That is perfectly true. And I am sorry I went to see him and took +her," said the old count. + +"No, why be sorry? Being here, you had to pay your respects. But +if he won't- that's his affair," said Marya Dmitrievna, looking for +something in her reticule. "Besides, the trousseau is ready, so +there is nothing to wait for; and what is not ready I'll send after +you. Though I don't like letting you go, it is the best way. So go, +with God's blessing!" + +Having found what she was looking for in the reticule she handed +it to Natasha. It was a letter from Princess Mary. + +"She has written to you. How she torments herself, poor thing! She's +afraid you might think that she does not like you." + +"But she doesn't like me," said Natasha. + +"Don't talk nonsense!" cried Marya Dmitrievna. + +"I shan't believe anyone, I know she doesn't like me," replied +Natasha boldly as she took the letter, and her face expressed a cold +and angry resolution that caused Marya Dmitrievna to look at her +more intently and to frown. + +"Don't answer like that, my good girl!" she said. "What I say is +true! Write an answer!" Natasha did not reply and went to her own room +to read Princess Mary's letter. + +Princess Mary wrote that she was in despair at the +misunderstanding that had occurred between them. Whatever her father's +feelings might be, she begged Natasha to believe that she could not +help loving her as the one chosen by her brother, for whose +happiness she was ready to sacrifice everything. + +"Do not think, however," she wrote, "that my father is +ill-disposed toward you. He is an invalid and an old man who must be +forgiven; but he is good and magnanimous and will love her who makes +his son happy." Princess Mary went on to ask Natasha to fix a time +when she could see her again. + +After reading the letter Natasha sat down at the writing table to +answer it. "Dear Princess," she wrote in French quickly and +mechanically, and then paused. What more could she write after all +that had happened the evening before? "Yes, yes! All that has +happened, and now all is changed," she thought as she sat with the +letter she had begun before her. "Must I break off with him? Must I +really? That's awful... and to escape from these dreadful thoughts she +went to Sonya and began sorting patterns with her. + +After dinner Natasha went to her room and again took up Princess +Mary's letter. "Can it be that it is all over?" she thought. "Can it +be that all this has happened so quickly and has destroyed all that +went before?" She recalled her love for Prince Andrew in all its +former strength, and at the same time felt that she loved Kuragin. She +vividly pictured herself as Prince Andrew's wife, and the scenes of +happiness with him she had so often repeated in her imagination, and +at the same time, aglow with excitement, recalled every detail of +yesterday's interview with Anatole. + +"Why could that not be as well?" she sometimes asked herself in +complete bewilderment. "Only so could I be completely happy; but now I +have to choose, and I can't be happy without either of them. Only," +she thought, "to tell Prince Andrew what has happened or to hide it +from him are both equally impossible. But with that one nothing is +spoiled. But am I really to abandon forever the joy of Prince Andrew's +love, in which I have lived so long?" + +"Please, Miss!" whispered a maid entering the room with a mysterious +air. "A man told me to give you this-" and she handed Natasha a +letter. + +"Only, for Christ's sake..." the girl went on, as Natasha, without +thinking, mechanically broke the seal and read a love letter from +Anatole, of which, without taking in a word, she understood only +that it was a letter from him- from the man she loved. Yes, she +loved him, or else how could that have happened which had happened? +And how could she have a love letter from him in her hand? + +With trembling hands Natasha held that passionate love letter +which Dolokhov had composed for Anatole, and as she read it she +found in it an echo of all that she herself imagined she was feeling. + +"Since yesterday evening my fate has been sealed; to be loved by you +or to die. There is no other way for me," the letter began. Then he +went on to say that he knew her parents would not give her to him- for +this there were secret reasons he could reveal only to her- but that +if she loved him she need only say the word yes, and no human power +could hinder their bliss. Love would conquer all. He would steal her +away and carry her off to the ends of the earth. + +"Yes, yes! I love him!" thought Natasha, reading the letter for +the twentieth time and finding some peculiarly deep meaning in each +word of it. + +That evening Marya Dmitrievna was going to the Akharovs' and +proposed to take the girls with her. Natasha, pleading a headache, +remained at home. + +CHAPTER XV + +On returning late in the evening Sonya went to Natasha's room, and +to her surprise found her still dressed and asleep on the sofa. Open +on the table, beside her lay Anatole's letter. Sonya picked it up +and read it. + +As she read she glanced at the sleeping Natasha, trying to find in +her face an explanation of what she was reading, but did not find +it. Her face was calm, gentle, and happy. Clutching her breast to keep +herself from choking, Sonya, pale and trembling with fear and +agitation, sat down in an armchair and burst into tears. + +"How was it I noticed nothing? How could it go so far? Can she +have left off loving Prince Andrew? And how could she let Kuragin go +to such lengths? He is a deceiver and a villain, that's plain! What +will Nicholas, dear noble Nicholas, do when he hears of it? So this is +the meaning of her excited, resolute, unnatural look the day before +yesterday, yesterday, and today," thought Sonya. "But it can't be that +she loves him! She probably opened the letter without knowing who it +was from. Probably she is offended by it. She could not do such a +thing!" + +Sonya wiped away her tears and went up to Natasha, again scanning +her face. + +"Natasha!" she said, just audibly. + +Natasha awoke and saw Sonya. + +"Ah, you're back?" + +And with the decision and tenderness that often come at the moment +of awakening, she embraced her friend, but noticing Sonya's look of +embarrassment, her own face expressed confusion and suspicion. + +"Sonya, you've read that letter?" she demanded. + +"Yes," answered Sonya softly. + +Natasha smiled rapturously. + +"No, Sonya, I can't any longer!" she said. "I can't hide it from you +any longer. You know, we love one another! Sonya, darling, he +writes... Sonya..." + +Sonya stared open-eyed at Natasha, unable to believe her ears. + +"And Bolkonski?" she asked. + +"Ah, Sonya, if you only knew how happy I am!" cried Natasha. "You +don't know what love is...." + +"But, Natasha, can that be all over?" + +Natasha looked at Sonya with wide-open eyes as if she could not +grasp the question. + +"Well, then, are you refusing Prince Andrew?" said Sonya. + +"Oh, you don't understand anything! Don't talk nonsense, just +listen!" said Natasha, with momentary vexation. + +"But I can't believe it," insisted Sonya. "I don't understand. How +is it you have loved a man for a whole year and suddenly... Why, you +have only seen him three times! Natasha, I don't believe you, you're +joking! In three days to forget everything and so..." + +"Three days?" said Natasha. "It seems to me I've loved him a hundred +years. It seems to me that I have never loved anyone before. You can't +understand it.... Sonya, wait a bit, sit here," and Natasha embraced +and kissed her. + +"I had heard that it happens like this, and you must have heard it +too, but it's only now that I feel such love. It's not the same as +before. As soon as I saw him I felt he was my master and I his +slave, and that I could not help loving him. Yes, his slave! +Whatever he orders I shall do. You don't understand that. What can I +do? What can I do, Sonya?" cried Natasha with a happy yet frightened +expression. + +"But think what you are doing," cried Sonya. "I can't leave it +like this. This secret correspondence... How could you let him go so +far?" she went on, with a horror and disgust she could hardly conceal. + +"I told you that I have no will," Natasha replied. "Why can't you +understand? I love him!" + +"Then I won't let it come to that... I shall tell!" cried Sonya, +bursting into tears. + +"What do you mean? For God's sake... If you tell, you are my enemy!" +declared Natasha. "You want me to be miserable, you want us to be +separated...." + +When she saw Natasha's fright, Sonya shed tears of shame and pity +for her friend. + +"But what has happened between you?" she asked. "What has he said to +you? Why doesn't he come to the house?" + +Natasha did not answer her questions. + +"For God's sake, Sonya, don't tell anyone, don't torture me," +Natasha entreated. "Remember no one ought to interfere in such +matters! I have confided in you...." + +"But why this secrecy? Why doesn't he come to the house?" asked +Sonya. "Why doesn't he openly ask for your hand? You know Prince +Andrew gave you complete freedom- if it is really so; but I don't +believe it! Natasha, have you considered what these secret reasons can +be?" + +Natasha looked at Sonya with astonishment. Evidently this question +presented itself to her mind for the first time and she did not know +how to answer it. + +"I don't know what the reasons are. But there must be reasons!" + +Sonya sighed and shook her head incredulously. + +"If there were reasons..." she began. + +But Natasha, guessing her doubts, interrupted her in alarm. + +"Sonya, one can't doubt him! One can't, one can't! Don't you +understand?" she cried. + +"Does he love you?" + +"Does he love me?" Natasha repeated with a smile of pity at her +friend's lack of comprehension. "Why, you have read his letter and you +have seen him." + +"But if he is dishonorable?" + +"He! dishonorable? If you only knew!" exclaimed Natasha. + +"If he is an honorable man he should either declare his intentions +or cease seeing you; and if you won't do this, I will. I will write to +him, and I will tell Papa!" said Sonya resolutely. + +"But I can't live without him!" cried Natasha. + +"Natasha, I don't understand you. And what are you saying! Think +of your father and of Nicholas." + +"I don't want anyone, I don't love anyone but him. How dare you +say he is dishonorable? Don't you know that I love him?" screamed +Natasha. "Go away, Sonya! I don't want to quarrel with you, but go, +for God's sake go! You see how I am suffering!" Natasha cried angrily, +in a voice of despair and repressed irritation. Sonya burst into +sobs and ran from the room. + +Natasha went to the table and without a moment's reflection wrote +that answer to Princess Mary which she had been unable to write all +the morning. In this letter she said briefly that all their +misunderstandings were at an end; that availing herself of the +magnanimity of Prince Andrew who when he went abroad had given her her +she begged Princess Mary to forget everything and forgive her if she +had been to blame toward her, but that she could not be his wife. At +that moment this all seemed quite easy, simple, and clear to Natasha. + +On Friday the Rostovs were to return to the country, but on +Wednesday the count went with the prospective purchaser to his +estate near Moscow. + +On the day the count left, Sonya and Natasha were invited to a big +dinner party at the Karagins', and Marya Dmitrievna took them there. +At that party Natasha again met Anatole, and Sonya noticed that she +spoke to him, trying not to be overheard, and that all through +dinner she was more agitated than ever. When they got home Natasha was +the first to begin the explanation Sonya expected. + +"There, Sonya, you were talking all sorts of nonsense about him," +Natasha began in a mild voice such as children use when they wish to +be praised. "We have had an explanation today." + +"Well, what happened? What did he say? Natasha, how glad I am you're +not angry with me! Tell me everything- the whole truth. What did he +say?" + +Natasha became thoughtful. + +"Oh, Sonya, if you knew him as I do! He said... He asked me what I +had promised Bolkonski. He was glad I was free to refuse him." + +Sonya sighed sorrowfully. + +"But you haven't refused Bolkonski?" said she. + +"Perhaps I have. Perhaps all is over between me and Bolkonski. Why +do you think so badly of me?" + +"I don't think anything, only I don't understand this..." + +"Wait a bit, Sonya, you'll understand everything. You'll see what +a man he is! Now don't think badly of me or of him. I don't think +badly of anyone: I love and pity everybody. But what am I to do?" + +Sonya did not succumb to the tender tone Natasha used toward her. +The more emotional and ingratiating the expression of Natasha's face +became, the more serious and stern grew Sonya's. + +"Natasha," said she, "you asked me not to speak to you, and I +haven't spoken, but now you yourself have begun. I don't trust him, +Natasha. Why this secrecy?" + +"Again, again!" interrupted Natasha. + +"Natasha, I am afraid for you!" + +"Afraid of what?" + +"I am afraid you're going to your ruin," said Sonya resolutely, +and was herself horrified at what she had said. + +Anger again showed in Natasha's face. + +"And I'll go to my ruin, I will, as soon as possible! It's not +your business! It won't be you, but I, who'll suffer. Leave me +alone, leave me alone! I hate you!" + +Natasha!" moaned Sonya, aghast. + +"I hate you, I hate you! You're my enemy forever!" And Natasha ran +out of the room. + +Natasha did not speak to Sonya again and avoided her. With the +same expression of agitated surprise and guilt she went about the +house, taking up now one occupation, now another, and at once +abandoning them. + +Hard as it was for Sonya, she watched her friend and did not let her +out of her sight. + +The day before the count was to return, Sonya noticed that Natasha +sat by the drawingroom window all the morning as if expecting +something and that she made a sign to an officer who drove past, +whom Sonya took to be Anatole. + +Sonya began watching her friend still more attentively and noticed +that at dinner and all that evening Natasha was in a strange and +unnatural state. She answered questions at random, began sentences she +did not finish, and laughed at everything. + +After tea Sonya noticed a housemaid at Natasha's door timidly +waiting to let her pass. She let the girl go in, and then listening at +the door learned that another letter had been delivered. + +Then suddenly it became clear to Sonya that Natasha had some +dreadful plan for that evening. Sonya knocked at her door. Natasha did +not let her in. + +"She will run away with him!" thought Sonya. "She is capable of +anything. There was something particularly pathetic and resolute in +her face today. She cried as she said good-by to Uncle," Sonya +remembered. "Yes, that's it, she means to elope with him, but what +am I to do?" thought she, recalling all the signs that clearly +indicated that Natasha had some terrible intention. "The count is +away. What am I to do? Write to Kuragin demanding an explanation? +But what is there to oblige him to reply? Write to Pierre, as Prince +Andrew asked me to in case of some misfortune?... But perhaps she +really has already refused Bolkonski- she sent a letter to Princess +Mary yesterday. And Uncle is away...." To tell Marya Dmitrievna who +had such faith in Natasha seemed to Sonya terrible. "Well, anyway," +thought Sonya as she stood in the dark passage, "now or never I must +prove that I remember the family's goodness to me and that I love +Nicholas. Yes! If I don't sleep for three nights I'll not leave this +passage and will hold her back by force and will and not let the +family be disgraced," thought she. + +CHAPTER XVI + +Anatole had lately moved to Dolokhov's. The plan for Natalie +Rostova's abduction had been arranged and the preparations made by +Dolokhov a few days before, and on the day that Sonya, after listening +at Natasha's door, resolved to safeguard her, it was to have been +put into execution. Natasha had promised to come out to Kuragin at the +back porch at ten that evening. Kuragin was to put her into a troyka +he would have ready and to drive her forty miles to the village of +Kamenka, where an unfrocked priest was in readiness to perform a +marriage ceremony over them. At Kamenka a relay of horses was to +wait which would take them to the Warsaw highroad, and from there they +would hasten abroad with post horses. + +Anatole had a passport, an order for post horses, ten thousand +rubles he had taken from his sister and another ten thousand +borrowed with Dolokhov's help. + +Two witnesses for the mock marriage- Khvostikov, a retired petty +official whom Dolokhov made use of in his gambling transactions, and +Makarin, a retired hussar, a kindly, weak fellow who had an +unbounded affection for Kuragin- were sitting at tea in Dolokhov's +front room. + +In his large study, the walls of which were hung to the ceiling with +Persian rugs, bearskins, and weapons, sat Dolokhov in a traveling +cloak and high boots, at an open desk on which lay abacus and some +bundles of paper money. Anatole, with uniform unbuttoned, walked to +and fro from the room where the witnesses were sitting, through the +study to the room behind, where his French valet and others were +packing the last of his things. Dolokhov was counting the money and +noting something down. + +"Well," he said, "Khvostikov must have two thousand." + +"Give it to him, then," said Anatole. + +"Makarka" (their name for Makarin) "will go through fire and water +for you for nothing. So here are our accounts all settled," said +Dolokhov, showing him the memorandum. "Is that right?" + +"Yes, of course," returned Anatole, evidently not listening to +Dolokhov and looking straight before him with a smile that did not +leave his face. + +Dolokhov banged down the or of his and turned to Anatole with an +ironic smile: + +"Do you know? You'd really better drop it all. There's still time!" + +"Fool," retorted Anatole. "Don't talk nonsense! If you only +knew... it's the devil knows what!" + +"No, really, give it up!" said Dolokhov. "I am speaking seriously. +It's no joke, this plot you've hatched." + +"What, teasing again? Go to the devil! Eh?" said Anatole, making a +grimace. "Really it's no time for your stupid jokes," and he left +the room. + +Dolokhov smiled contemptuously and condescendingly when Anatole +had gone out. + +"You wait a bit," he called after him. "I'm not joking, I'm +talking sense. Come here, come here!" + +Anatole returned and looked at Dolokhov, trying to give him his +attention and evidently submitting to him involuntarily. + +"Now listen to me. I'm telling you this for the last time. Why +should I joke about it? Did I hinder you? Who arranged everything +for you? Who found the priest and got the passport? Who raised the +money? I did it all." + +"Well, thank you for it. Do you think I am not grateful?" And +Anatole sighed and embraced Dolokhov. + +"I helped you, but all the same I must tell you the truth; it is a +dangerous business, and if you think about it- a stupid business. +Well, you'll carry her off- all right! Will they let it stop at +that? It will come out that you're already married. Why, they'll +have you in the criminal court...." + +"Oh, nonsense, nonsense!" Anatole ejaculated and again made a +grimace. "Didn't I explain to you? What?" And Anatole, with the +partiality dull-witted people have for any conclusion they have +reached by their own reasoning, repeated the argument he had already +put to Dolokhov a hundred times. "Didn't I explain to you that I +have come to this conclusion: if this marriage is invalid," he went +on, crooking one finger, "then I have nothing to answer for; but if it +is valid, no matter! Abroad no one will know anything about it. +Isn't that so? And don't talk to me, don't, don't." + +"Seriously, you'd better drop it! You'll only get yourself into a +mess!" + +"Go to the devil!" cried Anatole and, clutching his hair, left the +room, but returned at once and dropped into an armchair in front of +Dolokhov with his feet turned under him. "It's the very devil! What? +Feel how it beats!" He took Dolokhov's hand and put it on his heart. +"What a foot, my dear fellow! What a glance! A goddess!" he added in +French. "What?" + +Dolokhov with a cold smile and a gleam in his handsome insolent eyes +looked at him- evidently wishing to get some more amusement out of +him. + +"Well and when the money's gone, what then?" + +"What then? Eh?" repeated Anatole, sincerely perplexed by a +thought of the future. "What then?... Then, I don't know.... But why +talk nonsense!" He glanced at his watch. "It's time!" + +Anatole went into the back room. + +"Now then! Nearly ready? You're dawdling!" he shouted to the +servants. + +Dolokhov put away the money, called a footman whom he ordered to +bring something for them to eat and drink before the journey, and went +into the room where Khvostikov and Makarin were sitting. + +Anatole lay on the sofa in the study leaning on his elbow and +smiling pensively, while his handsome lips muttered tenderly to +himself. + +"Come and eat something. Have a drink!" Dolokhov shouted to him from +the other room. + +"I don't want to," answered Anatole continuing to smile. + +"Come! Balaga is here." + +Anatole rose and went into the dining room. Balaga was a famous +troyka driver who had known Dolokhov and Anatole some six years and +had given them good service with his troykas. More than once when +Anatole's regiment was stationed at Tver he had taken him from Tver in +the evening, brought him to Moscow by daybreak, and driven him back +again the next night. More than once he had enabled Dolokhov to escape +when pursued. More than once he had driven them through the town +with gypsies and "ladykins" as he called the cocottes. More than +once in their service he had run over pedestrians and upset vehicles +in the streets of Moscow and had always been protected from the +consequences by "my gentlemen" as he called them. He had ruined more +than one horse in their service. More than once they had beaten him, +and more than once they had made him drunk on champagne and Madeira, +which he loved; and he knew more than one thing about each of them +which would long ago have sent an ordinary man to Siberia. They +often called Balaga into their orgies and made him drink and dance +at the gypsies', and more than one thousand rubles of their money +had passed through his hands. In their service he risked his skin +and his life twenty times a year, and in their service had lost more +horses than the money he had from them would buy. But he liked them; +liked that mad driving at twelve miles an hour, liked upsetting a +driver or running down a pedestrian, and flying at full gallop through +the Moscow streets. He liked to hear those wild, tipsy shouts behind +him: "Get on! Get on!" when it was impossible to go any faster. He +liked giving a painful lash on the neck to some peasant who, more dead +than alive, was already hurrying out of his way. "Real gentlemen!" +he considered them. + +Anatole and Dolokhov liked Balaga too for his masterly driving and +because he liked the things they liked. With others Balaga +bargained, charging twenty-five rubles for a two hours' drive, and +rarely drove himself, generally letting his young men do so. But +with "his gentlemen" he always drove himself and never demanded +anything for his work. Only a couple of times a year- when he knew +from their valets that they had money in hand- he would turn up of a +morning quite sober and with a deep bow would ask them to help him. +The gentlemen always made him sit down. + +"Do help me out, Theodore Ivanych, sir," or "your excellency," he +would say. "I am quite out of horses. Let me have what you can to go +to the fair." + +And Anatole and Dolokhov, when they had money, would give him a +thousand or a couple of thousand rubles. + +Balaga was a fair-haired, short, and snub-nosed peasant of about +twenty-seven; red-faced, with a particularly red thick neck, +glittering little eyes, and a small beard. He wore a fine, +dark-blue, silk-lined cloth coat over a sheepskin. + +On entering the room now he crossed himself, turning toward the +front corner of the room, and went up to Dolokhov, holding out a +small, black hand. + +"Theodore Ivanych!" he said, bowing. + +"How d'you do, friend? Well, here he is!" + +"Good day, your excellency!" he said, again holding out his hand +to Anatole who had just come in. + +"I say, Balaga," said Anatole, putting his hands on the man's +shoulders, "do you care for me or not? Eh? Now, do me a service.... +What horses have you come with? Eh?" + +"As your messenger ordered, your special beasts," replied Balaga. + +"Well, listen, Balaga! Drive all three to death but get me there +in three hours. Eh?" + +"When they are dead, what shall I drive?" said Balaga with a wink. + +"Mind, I'll smash your face in! Don't make jokes!" cried Anatole, +suddenly rolling his eyes. + +"Why joke?" said the driver, laughing. "As if I'd grudge my +gentlemen anything! As fast as ever the horses can gallop, so fast +we'll go!" + +"Ah!" said Anatole. "Well, sit down." + +"Yes, sit down!" said Dolokhov. + +"I'll stand, Theodore Ivanych." + +"Sit down; nonsense! Have a drink!" said Anatole, and filled a large +glass of Madeira for him. + +The driver's eyes sparkled at the sight of the wine. After +refusing it for manners' sake, he drank it and wiped his mouth with +a red silk handkerchief he took out of his cap. + +"And when are we to start, your excellency?" + +"Well..." Anatole looked at his watch. "We'll start at once. Mind, +Balaga! You'll get there in time? Eh?" + +"That depends on our luck in starting, else why shouldn't we be +there in time?" replied Balaga. "Didn't we get you to Tver in seven +hours? I think you remember that, your excellency?" + +"Do you know, one Christmas I drove from Tver," said Anatole, +smilingly at the recollection and turning to Makarin who gazed +rapturously at him with wide-open eyes. "Will you believe it, Makarka, +it took one's breath away, the rate we flew. We came across a train of +loaded sleighs and drove right over two of them. Eh?" + +"Those were horses!" Balaga continued the tale. "That time I'd +harnessed two young side horses with the bay in the shafts," he went +on, turning to Dolokhov. "Will you believe it, Theodore Ivanych, those +animals flew forty miles? I couldn't hold them in, my hands grew +numb in the sharp frost so that I threw down the reins- 'Catch hold +yourself, your excellency!' says I, and I just tumbled on the bottom +of the sleigh and sprawled there. It wasn't a case of urging them +on, there was no holding them in till we reached the place. The devils +took us there in three hours! Only the near one died of it." + +CHAPTER XVII + +Anatole went out of the room and returned a few minutes later +wearing a fur coat girt with a silver belt, and a sable cap jauntily +set on one side and very becoming to his handsome face. Having +looked in a mirror, and standing before Dolokhov in the same pose he +had assumed before it, he lifted a glass of wine. + +"Well, good-by, Theodore. Thank you for everything and farewell!" +said Anatole. "Well, comrades and friends..." he considered for a +moment "...of my youth, farewell!" he said, turning to Makarin and the +others. + +Though they were all going with him, Anatole evidently wished to +make something touching and solemn out of this address to his +comrades. He spoke slowly in a loud voice and throwing out his chest +slightly swayed one leg. + +"All take glasses; you too, Balaga. Well, comrades and friends of my +youth, we've had our fling and lived and reveled. Eh? And now, when +shall we meet again? I am going abroad. We have had a good time- now +farewell, lads! To our health! Hurrah!..." he cried, and emptying +his glass flung it on the floor. + +"To your health!" said Balaga who also emptied his glass, and +wiped his mouth with his handkerchief. + +Makarin embraced Anatole with tears in his eyes. + +"Ah, Prince, how sorry I am to part from you! + +"Let's go. Let's go!" cried Anatole. + +Balaga was about to leave the room. + +"No, stop!" said Anatole. "Shut the door; we have first to sit down. +That's the way." + +They shut the door and all sat down. + +"Now, quick march, lads!" said Anatole, rising. + +Joseph, his valet, handed him his sabretache and saber, and they all +went out into the vestibule. + +"And where's the fur cloak?" asked Dolokhov. "Hey, Ignatka! Go to +Matrena Matrevna and ask her for the sable cloak. I have heard what +elopements are like," continued Dolokhov with a wink. "Why, she'll +rush out more dead than alive just in the things she is wearing; if +you delay at all there'll be tears and 'Papa' and 'Mamma,' and she's +frozen in a minute and must go back- but you wrap the fur cloak +round her first thing and carry her to the sleigh." + +The valet brought a woman's fox-lined cloak. + +"Fool, I told you the sable one! Hey, Matrena, the sable!" he +shouted so that his voice rang far through the rooms. + +A handsome, slim, and pale-faced gypsy girl with glittering black +eyes and curly blue-black hair, wearing a red shawl, ran out with a +sable mantle on her arm. + +"Here, I don't grudge it- take it!" she said, evidently afraid of +her master and yet regretful of her cloak. + +Dolokhov, without answering, took the cloak, threw it over +Matrena, and wrapped her up in it. + +"That's the way," said Dolokhov, "and then so!" and he turned the +collar up round her head, leaving only a little of the face uncovered. +"And then so, do you see?" and he pushed Anatole's head forward to +meet the gap left by the collar, through which Matrena's brilliant +smile was seen. + +"Well, good-by, Matrena," said Anatole, kissing her. "Ah, my +revels here are over. Remember me to Steshka. There, good-by! Good-by, +Matrena, wish me luck!" + +"Well, Prince, may God give you great luck!" said Matrena in her +gypsy accent. + +Two troykas were standing before the porch and two young drivers +were holding the horses. Balaga took his seat in the front one and +holding his elbows high arranged the reins deliberately. Anatole and +Dolokhov got in with him. Makarin, Khvostikov, and a valet seated +themselves in the other sleigh. + +"Well, are you ready?" asked Balaga. + +"Go!" he cried, twisting the reins round his hands, and the troyka +tore down the Nikitski Boulevard. + +"Tproo! Get out of the way! Hi!... Tproo!..." The shouting of Balaga +and of the sturdy young fellow seated on the box was all that could be +heard. On the Arbat Square the troyka caught against a carriage; +something cracked, shouts were heard, and the troyka flew along the +Arbat Street. + +After taking a turn along the Podnovinski Boulevard, Balaga began to +rein in, and turning back drew up at the crossing of the old +Konyusheny Street. + +The young fellow on the box jumped down to hold the horses and +Anatole and Dolokhov went along the pavement. When they reached the +gate Dolokhov whistled. The whistle was answered, and a maidservant +ran out. + +"Come into the courtyard or you'll be seen; she'll come out +directly," said she. + +Dolokhov stayed by the gate. Anatole followed the maid into the +courtyard, turned the corner, and ran up into the porch. + +He was met by Gabriel, Marya Dmitrievna's gigantic footman. + +"Come to the mistress, please," said the footman in his deep bass, +intercepting any retreat. + +"To what Mistress? Who are you?" asked Anatole in a breathless +whisper. + +"Kindly step in, my orders are to bring you in." + +"Kuragin! Come back!" shouted Dolokhov. "Betrayed! Back!" + +Dolokhov, after Anatole entered, had remained at the wicket gate and +was struggling with the yard porter who was trying to lock it. With +a last desperate effort Dolokhov pushed the porter aside, and when +Anatole ran back seized him by the arm, pulled him through the wicket, +and ran back with him to the troyka. + +CHAPTER XVIII + +Marya Dmitrievna, having found Sonya weeping in the corridor, made +her confess everything, and intercepting the note to Natasha she +read it and went into Natasha's room with it in her hand. + +"You shameless good-for-nothing!" said she. "I won't hear a word." + +Pushing back Natasha who looked at her with astonished but +tearless eyes, she locked her in; and having given orders to the +yard porter to admit the persons who would be coming that evening, but +not to let them out again, and having told the footman to bring them +up to her, she seated herself in the drawing room to await the +abductors. + +When Gabriel came to inform her that the men who had come had run +away again, she rose frowning, and clasping her hands behind her paced +through the rooms a long time considering what she should do. Toward +midnight she went to Natasha's room fingering the key in her pocket. +Sonya was sitting sobbing in the corridor. "Marya Dmitrievna, for +God's sake let me in to her!" she pleaded, but Marya Dmitrievna +unlocked the door and went in without giving her an answer.... +"Disgusting, abominable... In my house... horrid girl, hussy! I'm only +sorry for her father!" thought she, trying to restrain her wrath. +"Hard as it may be, I'll tell them all to hold their tongues and +will hide it from the count." She entered the room with resolute +steps. Natasha lying on the sofa, her head hidden in her hands, and +she did not stir. She was in just the same position in which Marya +Dmitrievna had left her. + +"A nice girl! Very nice!" said Marya Dmitrievna. "Arranging meetings +with lovers in my house! It's no use pretending: you listen when I +speak to you!" And Marya Dmitrievna touched her arm. "Listen when when +I speak! You've disgraced yourself like the lowest of hussies. I'd +treat you differently, but I'm sorry for your father, so I will +conceal it." + +Natasha did not change her position, but her whole body heaved +with noiseless, convulsive sobs which choked her. Marya Dmitrievna +glanced round at Sonya and seated herself on the sofa beside Natasha. + +"It's lucky for him that he escaped me; but I'll find him!" she said +in her rough voice. "Do you hear what I am saying or not?" she added. + +She put her large hand under Natasha's face and turned it toward +her. Both Marya Dmitrievna and Sonya were amazed when they saw how +Natasha looked. Her eyes were dry and glistening, her lips compressed, +her cheeks sunken. + +"Let me be!... What is it to me?... I shall die!" she muttered, +wrenching herself from Marya Dmitrievna's hands with a vicious +effort and sinking down again into her former position. + +"Natalie!" said Marya Dmitrievna. "I wish for your good. Lie +still, stay like that then, I won't touch you. But listen. I won't +tell you how guilty you are. You know that yourself. But when your +father comes back tomorrow what am I to tell him? Eh?" + +Again Natasha's body shook with sobs. + +"Suppose he finds out, and your brother, and your betrothed?" + +"I have no betrothed: I have refused him!" cried Natasha. + +"That's all the same," continued Dmitrievna. "If they hear of +this, will they let it pass? He, your father, I know him... if he +challenges him to a duel will that be all right? Eh?" + +"Oh, let me be! Why have you interfered at all? Why? Why? Who +asked you to?" shouted Natasha, raising herself on the sofa and +looking malignantly at Marya Dmitrievna. + +"But what did you want?" cried Marya Dmitrievna, growing angry +again. "Were you kept under lock and key? Who hindered his coming to +the house? Why carry you off as if you were some gypsy singing +girl?... Well, if he had carried you off... do you think they wouldn't +have found him? Your father, or brother, or your betrothed? And he's a +scoundrel, a wretch- that's a fact!" + +"He is better than any of you!" exclaimed Natasha getting up. "If +you hadn't interfered... Oh, my God! What is it all? What is it? +Sonya, why?... Go away!" + +And she burst into sobs with the despairing vehemence with which +people bewail disasters they feel they have themselves occasioned. +Marya Dmitrievna was to speak again but Natasha cried out: + +"Go away! Go away! You all hate and despise me!" and she threw +herself back on the sofa. + +Marya Dmitrievna went on admonishing her for some time, enjoining on +her that it must all be kept from her father and assuring her that +nobody would know anything about it if only Natasha herself would +undertake to forget it all and not let anyone see that something had +happened. Natasha did not reply, nor did she sob any longer, but she +grew cold and had a shivering fit. Marya Dmitrievna put a pillow under +her head, covered her with two quilts, and herself brought her some +lime-flower water, but Natasha did not respond to her. + +"Well, let her sleep," said Marya Dmitrievna as she went of the room +supposing Natasha to be asleep. + +But Natasha was not asleep; with pale face and fixed wide-open +eyes she looked straight before her. All that night she did not +sleep or weep and did not speak to Sonya who got up and went to her +several times. + +Next day Count Rostov returned from his estate near Moscow in time +for lunch as he had promised. He was in very good spirits; the +affair with the purchaser was going on satisfactorily, and there was +nothing to keep him any longer in Moscow, away from the countess +whom he missed. Marya Dmitrievna met him and told him that Natasha had +been very unwell the day before and that they had sent for the doctor, +but that she was better now. Natasha had not left her room that +morning. With compressed and parched lips and dry fixed eyes, she +sat at the window, uneasily watching the people who drove past and +hurriedly glancing round at anyone who entered the room. She was +evidently expecting news of him and that he would come or would +write to her. + +When the count came to see her she turned anxiously round at the +sound of a man's footstep, and then her face resumed its cold and +malevolent expression. She did not even get up to greet him. "What +is the matter with you, my angel? Are you ill?" asked the count. + +After a moment's silence Natasha answered: "Yes, ill." + +In reply to the count's anxious inquiries as to why she was so +dejected and whether anything had happened to her betrothed, she +assured him that nothing had happened and asked him not to worry. +Marya Dmitrievna confirmed Natasha's assurances that nothing had +happened. From the pretense of illness, from his daughter's +distress, and by the embarrassed faces of Sonya and Marya +Dmitrievna, the count saw clearly that something had gone wrong during +his absence, but it was so terrible for him to think that anything +disgraceful had happened to his beloved daughter, and he so prized his +own cheerful tranquillity, that he avoided inquiries and tried to +assure himself that nothing particularly had happened; and he was only +dissatisfied that her indisposition delayed their return to the +country. + +CHAPTER XIX + +From the day his wife arrived in Moscow Pierre had been intending to +go away somewhere, so as not to be near her. Soon after the Rostovs +came to Moscow the effect Natasha had on him made him hasten to +carry out his intention. He went to Tver to see Joseph Alexeevich's +widow, who had long since promised to hand over to him some papers +of her deceased husband's. + +When he returned to Moscow Pierre was handed a letter from Marya +Dmitrievna asking him to come and see her on a matter of great +importance relating to Andrew Bolkonski and his betrothed. Pierre +had been avoiding Natasha because it seemed to him that his feeling +for her was stronger than a married man's should be for his friend's +fiancee. Yet some fate constantly threw them together. + +"What can have happened? And what can they want with me?" thought he +as he dressed to go to Marya Dmitrievna's. "If only Prince Andrew +would hurry up and come and marry her!" thought he on his way to the +house. + +On the Tverskoy Boulevard a familiar voice called to him. + +"Pierre! Been back long?" someone shouted. Pierre raised his head. +In a sleigh drawn by two gray trotting-horses that were bespattering +the dashboard with snow, Anatole and his constant companion Makarin +dashed past. Anatole was sitting upright in the classic pose of +military dandies, the lower part of his face hidden by his beaver +collar and his head slightly bent. His face was fresh and rosy, his +white-plumed hat, tilted to one side, disclosed his curled and pomaded +hair besprinkled with powdery snow. + +"Yes, indeed, that's a true sage," thought Pierre. "He sees +nothing beyond the pleasure of the moment, nothing troubles him and so +he is always cheerful, satisfied, and serene. What wouldn't I give +to be like him!" he thought enviously. + +In Marya Dmitrievna's anteroom the footman who helped him off with +his fur coat said that the mistress asked him to come to her bedroom. + +When he opened the ballroom door Pierre saw Natasha sitting at the +window, with a thin, pale, and spiteful face. She glanced round at +him, frowned, and left the room with an expression of cold dignity. + +"What has happened?" asked Pierre, entering Marya Dmitrievna's room. + +"Fine doings!" answered Dmitrievna. "For fifty-eight years have I +lived in this world and never known anything so disgraceful!" + +And having put him on his honor not to repeat anything she told him, +Marya Dmitrievna informed him that Natasha had refused Prince Andrew +without her parents' knowledge and that the cause of this was +Anatole Kuragin into whose society Pierre's wife had thrown her and +with whom Natasha had tried to elope during her father's absence, in +order to be married secretly. + +Pierre raised his shoulders and listened open-mouthed to what was +told him, scarcely able to believe his own ears. That Prince +Andrew's deeply loved affianced wife- the same Natasha Rostova who +used to be so charming- should give up Bolkonski for that fool Anatole +who was already secretly married (as Pierre knew), and should be so in +love with him as to agree to run away with him, was something Pierre +could not conceive and could not imagine. + +He could not reconcile the charming impression he had of Natasha, +whom he had known from a child, with this new conception of her +baseness, folly, and cruelty. He thought of his wife. "They are all +alike!" he said to himself, reflecting that he was not the only man +unfortunate enough to be tied to a bad woman. But still he pitied +Prince Andrew to the point of tears and sympathized with his wounded +pride, and the more he pitied his friend the more did he think with +contempt and even with disgust of that Natasha who had just passed him +in the ballroom with such a look of cold dignity. He did not know that +Natasha's soul was overflowing with despair, shame, and humiliation, +and that it was not her fault that her face happened to assume an +expression of calm dignity and severity. + +"But how get married?" said Pierre, in answer to Marya Dmitrievna. +"He could not marry- he is married!" + +"Things get worse from hour to hour!" ejaculated Marya Dmitrievna. +"A nice youth! What a scoundrel! And she's expecting him- expecting +him since yesterday. She must be told! Then at least she won't go on +expecting him." + +After hearing the details of Anatole's marriage from Pierre, and +giving vent to her anger against Anatole in words of abuse, Marya +Dmitrievna told Pierre why she had sent for him. She was afraid that +the count or Bolkonski, who might arrive at any moment, if they knew +of this affair (which she hoped to hide from them) might challenge +Anatole to a duel, and she therefore asked Pierre to tell his +brother-in-law in her name to leave Moscow and not dare to let her set +eyes on him again. Pierre- only now realizing the danger to the old +count, Nicholas, and Prince Andrew- promised to do as she wished. +Having briefly and exactly explained her wishes to him, she let him go +to the drawing room. + +"Mind, the count knows nothing. Behave as if you know nothing +either," she said. "And I will go and tell her it is no use +expecting him! And stay to dinner if you care to!" she called after +Pierre. + +Pierre met the old count, who seemed nervous and upset. That morning +Natasha had told him that she had rejected Bolkonski. + +"Troubles, troubles, my dear fellow!" he said to Pierre. "What +troubles one has with these girls without their mother! I do so regret +having come here.... I will be frank with you. Have you heard she +has broken off her engagement without consulting anybody? It's true +this engagement never was much to my liking. Of course he is an +excellent man, but still, with his father's disapproval they +wouldn't have been happy, and Natasha won't lack suitors. Still, it +has been going on so long, and to take such a step without father's or +mother's consent! And now she's ill, and God knows what! It's hard, +Count, hard to manage daughters in their mother's absence...." + +Pierre saw that the count was much upset and tried to change the +subject, but the count returned to his troubles. + +Sonya entered the room with an agitated face. + +"Natasha is not quite well; she's in her room and would like to +see you. Marya Dmitrievna is with her and she too asks you to come." + +"Yes, you are a great friend of Bolkonski's, no doubt she wants to +send him a message," said the count. "Oh dear! Oh dear! How happy it +all was!" + +And clutching the spare gray locks on his temples the count left the +room. + +When Marya Dmitrievna told Natasha that Anatole was married, Natasha +did not wish to believe it and insisted on having it confirmed by +Pierre himself. Sonya told Pierre this as she led him along the +corridor to Natasha's room. + +Natasha, pale and stern, was sitting beside Marya Dmitrievna, and +her eyes, glittering feverishly, met Pierre with a questioning look +the moment he entered. She did not smile or nod, but only gazed +fixedly at him, and her look asked only one thing: was he a friend, or +like the others an enemy in regard to Anatole? As for Pierre, he +evidently did not exist for her. + +"He knows all about it," said Marya Dmitrievna pointing to Pierre +and addressing Natasha. "Let him tell you whether I have told the +truth." + +Natasha looked from one to the other as a hunted and wounded +animal looks at the approaching dogs and sportsmen. + +"Natalya Ilynichna," Pierre began, dropping his eyes with a +feeling of pity for her and loathing for the thing he had to do, +"whether it is true or not should make no difference to you, +because..." + +"Then it is not true that he's married!" + +"Yes, it is true." + +"Has he been married long?" she asked. "On your honor?..." + +Pierre gave his word of honor. + +"Is he still here?" she asked, quickly. + +"Yes, I have just seen him." + +She was evidently unable to speak and made a sign with her hands +that they should leave her alone. + +CHAPTER XX + +Pierre did not stay for dinner, but left the room and went away at +once. He drove through the town seeking Anatole Kuragin, at the +thought of whom now the blood rushed to his heart and he felt a +difficulty in breathing. He was not at the ice hills, nor at the +gypsies', nor at Komoneno's. Pierre drove to the Club. In the Club all +was going on as usual. The members who were assembling for dinner were +sitting about in groups; they greeted Pierre and spoke of the town +news. The footman having greeted him, knowing his habits and his +acquaintances, told him there was a place left for him in the small +dining room and that Prince Michael Zakharych was in the library, +but Paul Timofeevich had not yet arrived. One of Pierre's +acquaintances, while they were talking about the weather, asked if +he had heard of Kuragin's abduction of Rostova which was talked of +in the town, and was it true? Pierre laughed and said it was +nonsense for he had just come from the Rostovs'. He asked everyone +about Anatole. One man told him he had not come yet, and another +that he was coming to dinner. Pierre felt it strange to see this calm, +indifferent crowd of people unaware of what was going on in his +soul. He paced through the ballroom, waited till everyone had come, +and as Anatole had not turned up did not stay for dinner but drove +home. + +Anatole, for whom Pierre was looking, dined that day with +Dolokhov, consulting him as to how to remedy this unfortunate +affair. It seemed to him essential to see Natasha. In the evening he +drove to his sister's to discuss with her how to arrange a meeting. +When Pierre returned home after vainly hunting all over Moscow, his +valet informed him that Prince Anatole was with the countess. The +countess' drawing room was full of guests. + +Pierre without greeting his wife whom he had not seen since his +return- at that moment she was more repulsive to him than ever- +entered the drawing room and seeing Anatole went up to him. + +"Ah, Pierre," said the countess going up to her husband. "You +don't know what a plight our Anatole..." + +She stopped, seeing in the forward thrust of her husband's head, +in his glowing eyes and his resolute gait, the terrible indications of +that rage and strength which she knew and had herself experienced +after his duel with Dolokhov. + +"Where you are, there is vice and evil!" said Pierre to his wife. +"Anatole, come with me! I must speak to you," he added in French. + +Anatole glanced round at his sister and rose submissively, ready +to follow Pierre. Pierre, taking him by the arm, pulled him toward +himself and was leading him from the room. + +"If you allow yourself in my drawing room..." whispered Helene, +but Pierre did not reply and went out of the room. + +Anatole followed him with his usual jaunty step but his face +betrayed anxiety. + +Having entered his study Pierre closed the door and addressed +Anatole without looking at him. + +"You promised Countess Rostova to marry her and were about to +elope with her, is that so?" + +"Mon cher," answered Anatole (their whole conversation was in +French), "I don't consider myself bound to answer questions put to +me in that tone." + +Pierre's face, already pale, became distorted by fury. He seized +Anatole by the collar of his uniform with his big hand and shook him +from side to side till Anatole's face showed a sufficient degree of +terror. + +"When I tell you that I must talk to you!..." repeated Pierre. + +"Come now, this is stupid. What?" said Anatole, fingering a button +of his collar that had been wrenched loose with a bit of the cloth. + +"You're a scoundrel and a blackguard, and I don't know what deprives +me from the pleasure of smashing your head with this!" said Pierre, +expressing himself so artificially because he was talking French. + +He took a heavy paperweight and lifted it threateningly, but at once +put it back in its place. + +"Did you promise to marry her?" + +"I... I didn't think of it. I never promised, because..." + +Pierre interrupted him. + +"Have you any letters of hers? Any letters?" he said, moving +toward Anatole. + +Anatole glanced at him and immediately thrust his hand into his +pocket and drew out his pocketbook. + +Pierre took the letter Anatole handed him and, pushing aside a table +that stood in his way, threw himself on the sofa. + +"I shan't be violent, don't be afraid!" said Pierre in answer to a +frightened gesture of Anatole's. "First, the letters," said he, as +if repeating a lesson to himself. "Secondly," he continued after a +short pause, again rising and again pacing the room, "tomorrow you +must get out of Moscow." + +"But how can I?..." + +"Thirdly," Pierre continued without listening to him, "you must +never breathe a word of what has passed between you and Countess +Rostova. I know I can't prevent your doing so, but if you have a spark +of conscience..." Pierre paced the room several times in silence. + +Anatole sat at a table frowning and biting his lips. + +"After all, you must understand that besides your pleasure there +is such a thing as other people's happiness and peace, and that you +are ruining a whole life for the sake of amusing yourself! Amuse +yourself with women like my wife- with them you are within your +rights, for they know what you want of them. They are armed against +you by the same experience of debauchery; but to promise a maid to +marry her... to deceive, to kidnap.... Don't you understand that it is +as mean as beating an old man or a child?..." + +Pierre paused and looked at Anatole no longer with an angry but with +a questioning look. + +"I don't know about that, eh?" said Anatole, growing more +confident as Pierre mastered his wrath. "I don't know that and don't +want to," he said, not looking at Pierre and with a slight tremor of +his lower jaw, "but you have used such words to me- 'mean' and so +on- which as a man of honor I can't allow anyone to use." + +Pierre glanced at him with amazement, unable to understand what he +wanted. + +"Though it was tete-a-tete," Anatole continued, "still I can't..." + +"Is it satisfaction you want?" said Pierre ironically. + +"You could at least take back your words. What? If you want me to do +as you wish, eh?" + +"I take them back, I take them back!" said Pierre, "and I ask you to +forgive me." Pierre involuntarily glanced at the loose button. "And if +you require money for your journey..." + +Anatole smiled. The expression of that base and cringing smile, +which Pierre knew so well in his wife, revolted him. + +"Oh, vile and heartless brood!" he exclaimed, and left the room. + +Next day Anatole left for Petersburg. + +CHAPTER XXI + +Pierre drove to Marya Dmitrievna's to tell her of the fulfillment of +her wish that Kuragin should be banished from Moscow. The whole +house was in a state of alarm and commotion. Natasha was very ill, +having, as Marya Dmitrievna told him in secret, poisoned herself the +night after she had been told that Anatole was married, with some +arsenic she had stealthily procured. After swallowing a little she had +been so frightened that she woke Sonya and told her what she had done. +The necessary antidotes had been administered in time and she was +now out of danger, though still so weak that it was out of the +question to move her to the country, and so the countess had been sent +for. Pierre saw the distracted count, and Sonya, who had a +tear-stained face, but he could not see Natasha. + +Pierre dined at the club that day and heard on all sides gossip +about the attempted abduction of Rostova. He resolutely denied these +rumors, assuring everyone that nothing had happened except that his +brother-in-law had proposed to her and been refused. It seemed to +Pierre that it was his duty to conceal the whole affair and +re-establish Natasha's reputation. + +He was awaiting Prince Andrew's return with dread and went every day +to the old prince's for news of him. + +Old Prince Bolkonski heard all the rumors current in the town from +Mademoiselle Bourienne and had read the note to Princess Mary in which +Natasha had broken off her engagement. He seemed in better spirits +than usual and awaited his son with great impatience. + +Some days after Anatole's departure Pierre received a note from +Prince Andrew, informing him of his arrival and asking him to come +to see him. + +As soon as he reached Moscow, Prince Andrew had received from his +father Natasha's note to Princess Mary breaking off her engagement +(Mademoiselle Bourienne had purloined it from Princess Mary and +given it to the old prince), and he heard from him the story of +Natasha's elopement, with additions. + +Prince Andrew had arrived in the evening and Pierre came to see +him next morning. Pierre expected to find Prince Andrew in almost +the same state as Natasha and was therefore surprised on entering +the drawing room to hear him in the study talking in a loud animated +voice about some intrigue going on in Petersburg. The old prince's +voice and another now and then interrupted him. Princess Mary came out +to meet Pierre. She sighed, looking toward the door of the room +where Prince Andrew was, evidently intending to express her sympathy +with his sorrow, but Pierre saw by her face that she was glad both +at what had happened and at the way her brother had taken the news +of Natasha's faithlessness. + +"He says he expected it," she remarked. "I know his pride will not +let him express his feelings, but still he has taken it better, far +better, than I expected. Evidently it had to be...." + +"But is it possible that all is really ended?" asked Pierre. + +Princess Mary looked at him with astonishment. She did not +understand how he could ask such a question. Pierre went into the +study. Prince Andrew, greatly changed and plainly in better health, +but with a fresh horizontal wrinkle between his brows, stood in +civilian dress facing his father and Prince Meshcherski, warmly +disputing and vigorously gesticulating. The conversation was about +Speranski- the news of whose sudden exile and alleged treachery had +just reached Moscow. + +"Now he is censured and accused by all who were enthusiastic about +him a month ago," Prince Andrew was saying, "and by those who were +unable to understand his aims. To judge a man who is in disfavor and +to throw on him all the blame of other men's mistakes is very easy, +but I maintain that if anything good has been accomplished in this +reign it was done by him, by him alone." + +He paused at the sight of Pierre. His face quivered and +immediately assumed a vindictive expression. + +"Posterity will do him justice," he concluded, and at once turned to +Pierre. + +"Well, how are you? Still getting stouter?" he said with +animation, but the new wrinkle on his forehead deepened. "Yes, I am +well," he said in answer to Pierre's question, and smiled. + +To Pierre that smile said plainly: "I am well, but my health is +now of no use to anyone." + +After a few words to Pierre about the awful roads from the Polish +frontier, about people he had met in Switzerland who knew Pierre, +and about M. Dessalles, whom he had brought from abroad to be his +son's tutor, Prince Andrew again joined warmly in the conversation +about Speranski which was still going on between the two old men. + +"If there were treason, or proofs of secret relations with Napoleon, +they would have been made public," he said with warmth and haste. "I +do not, and never did, like Speranski personally, but I like justice!" + +Pierre now recognized in his friend a need with which he was only +too familiar, to get excited and to have arguments about extraneous +matters in order to stifle thoughts that were too oppressive and too +intimate. When Prince Meshcherski had left, Prince Andrew took +Pierre's arm and asked him into the room that had been assigned him. A +bed had been made up there, and some open portmanteaus and trunks +stood about. Prince Andrew went to one and took out a small casket, +from which he drew a packet wrapped in paper. He did it all silently +and very quickly. He stood up and coughed. His face was gloomy and his +lips compressed. + +"Forgive me for troubling you..." + +Pierre saw that Prince Andrew was going to speak of Natasha, and his +broad face expressed pity and sympathy. This expression irritated +Prince Andrew, and in a determined, ringing, and unpleasant tone he +continued: + +"I have received a refusal from Countess Rostova and have heard +reports of your brother-in-law having sought her hand, or something of +that kind. Is that true?" + +"Both true and untrue," Pierre began; but Prince Andrew +interrupted him. + +"Here are her letters and her portrait," said he. + +He took the packet from the table and handed it to Pierre. + +"Give this to the countess... if you see her." + +"She is very ill," said Pierre. + +"Then she is here still?" said Prince Andrew. "And Prince +Kuragin?" he added quickly. + +"He left long ago. She has been at death's door." + +"I much regret her illness," said Prince Andrew; and he smiled +like his father, coldly, maliciously, and unpleasantly. + +"So Monsieur Kuragin has not honored Countess Rostova with his +hand?" said Prince Andrew, and he snorted several times. + +"He could not marry, for he was married already," said Pierre. + +Prince Andrew laughed disagreeably, again reminding one of his +father. + +"And where is your brother-in-law now, if I may ask?" he said. + +"He has gone to Peters... But I don't know," said Pierre. + +"Well, it doesn't matter," said Prince Andrew. "Tell Countess +Rostova that she was and is perfectly free and that I wish her all +that is good." + +Pierre took the packet. Prince Andrew, as if trying to remember +whether he had something more to say, or waiting to see if Pierre +would say anything, looked fixedly at him. + +"I say, do you remember our discussion in Petersburg?" asked Pierre, +"about..." + +"Yes," returned Prince Andrew hastily. "I said that a fallen woman +should be forgiven, but I didn't say I could forgive her. I can't." + +"But can this be compared...?" said Pierre. + +Prince Andrew interrupted him and cried sharply: "Yes, ask her +hand again, be magnanimous, and so on?... Yes, that would be very +noble, but I am unable to follow in that gentleman's footsteps. If you +wish to be my friend never speak to me of that... of all that! Well, +good-by. So you'll give her the packet?" + +Pierre left the room and went to the old prince and Princess Mary. + +The old man seemed livelier than usual. Princess Mary was the same +as always, but beneath her sympathy for her brother, Pierre noticed +her satisfaction that the engagement had been broken off. Looking at +them Pierre realized what contempt and animosity they all felt for the +Rostovs, and that it was impossible in their presence even to +mention the name of her who could give up Prince Andrew for anyone +else. + +At dinner the talk turned on the war, the approach of which was +becoming evident. Prince Andrew talked incessantly, arguing now with +his father, now with the Swiss tutor Dessalles, and showing an +unnatural animation, the cause of which Pierre so well understood. + +CHAPTER XXII + +That same evening Pierre went to the Rostovs' to fulfill the +commission entrusted to him. Natasha was in bed, the count at the +Club, and Pierre, after giving the letters to Sonya, went to Marya +Dmitrievna who was interested to know how Prince Andrew had taken +the news. Ten minutes later Sonya came to Marya Dmitrievna. + +"Natasha insists on seeing Count Peter Kirilovich," said she. + +"But how? Are we to take him up to her? The room there has not +been tidied up." + +"No, she has dressed and gone into the drawing room," said Sonya. + +Marya Dmitrievna only shrugged her shoulders. + +"When will her mother come? She has worried me to death! Now mind, +don't tell her everything!" said she to Pierre. "One hasn't the +heart to scold her, she is so much to be pitied, so much to be +pitied." + +Natasha was standing in the middle of the drawing room, emaciated, +with a pale set face, but not at all shamefaced as Pierre expected +to find her. When he appeared at the door she grew flurried, evidently +undecided whether to go to meet him or to wait till he came up. + +Pierre hastened to her. He thought she would give him her hand as +usual; but she, stepping up to him, stopped, breathing heavily, her +arms hanging lifelessly just in the pose she used to stand in when she +went to the middle of the ballroom to sing, but with quite a different +expression of face. + +"Peter Kirilovich," she began rapidly, "Prince Bolkonski was your +friend- is your friend," she corrected herself. (It seemed to her that +everything that had once been must now be different.) "He told me once +to apply to you..." + +Pierre sniffed as he looked at her, but did not speak. Till then +he had reproached her in his heart and tried to despise her, but he +now felt so sorry for her that there was no room in his soul for +reproach. + +"He is here now: tell him... to for... forgive me!" She stopped +and breathed still more quickly, but did not shed tears. + +"Yes... I will tell him," answered Pierre; "but..." + +He did not know what to say. + +Natasha was evidently dismayed at the thought of what he might think +she had meant. + +"No, I know all is over," she said hurriedly. "No, that can never +be. I'm only tormented by the wrong I have done him. Tell him only +that I beg him to forgive, forgive, forgive me for everything...." + +She trembled all over and sat down on a chair. + +A sense of pity he had never before known overflowed Pierre's heart. + +"I will tell him, I will tell him everything once more," said +Pierre. "But... I should like to know one thing...." + +"Know what?" Natasha's eyes asked. + +"I should like to know, did you love..." Pierre did not know how +to refer to Anatole and flushed at the thought of him- "did you love +that bad man?" + +"Don't call him bad!" said Natasha. "But I don't know, don't know at +all...." + +She began to cry and a still greater sense of pity, tenderness, +and love welled up in Pierre. He felt the tears trickle under his +spectacles and hoped they would not be noticed. + +"We won't speak of it any more, my dear," said Pierre, and his +gentle, cordial tone suddenly seemed very strange to Natasha. + +"We won't speak of it, my dear- I'll tell him everything; but one +thing I beg of you, consider me your friend and if you want help, +advice, or simply to open your heart to someone- not now, but when +your mind is clearer think of me!" He took her hand and kissed it. +"I shall be happy if it's in my power..." + +Pierre grew confused. + +"Don't speak to me like that. I am not worth it!" exclaimed +Natasha and turned to leave the room, but Pierre held her hand. + +He knew he had something more to say to her. But when he said it +he was amazed at his own words. + +"Stop, stop! You have your whole life before you," said he to her. + +"Before me? No! All is over for me," she replied with shame and +self-abasement. + +"All over?" he repeated. "If I were not myself, but the handsomest, +cleverest, and best man in the world, and were free, I would this +moment ask on my knees for your hand and your love!" + +For the first time for many days Natasha wept tears of gratitude and +tenderness, and glancing at Pierre she went out of the room. + +Pierre too when she had gone almost ran into the anteroom, +restraining tears of tenderness and joy that choked him, and without +finding the sleeves of his fur cloak threw it on and got into his +sleigh. + +"Where to now, your excellency?" asked the coachman. + +"Where to?" Pierre asked himself. "Where can I go now? Surely not to +the Club or to pay calls?" All men seemed so pitiful, so poor, in +comparison with this feeling of tenderness and love he experienced: in +comparison with that softened, grateful, last look she had given him +through her tears. + +"Home!" said Pierre, and despite twenty-two degrees of frost +Fahrenheit he threw open the bearskin cloak from his broad chest and +inhaled the air with joy. + +It was clear and frosty. Above the dirty, ill-lit streets, above the +black roofs, stretched the dark starry sky. Only looking up at the sky +did Pierre cease to feel how sordid and humiliating were all mundane +things compared with the heights to which his soul had just been +raised. At the entrance to the Arbat Square an immense expanse of dark +starry sky presented itself to his eyes. Almost in the center of it, +above the Prechistenka Boulevard, surrounded and sprinkled on all +sides by stars but distinguished from them all by its nearness to +the earth, its white light, and its long uplifted tail, shone the +enormous and brilliant comet of 18l2- the comet which was said to +portend all kinds of woes and the end of the world. In Pierre, +however, that comet with its long luminous tail aroused no feeling +of fear. On the contrary he gazed joyfully, his eyes moist with tears, +at this bright comet which, having traveled in its orbit with +inconceivable velocity through immeasurable space, seemed suddenly- +like an arrow piercing the earth- to remain fixed in a chosen spot, +vigorously holding its tail erect, shining and displaying its white +light amid countless other scintillating stars. It seemed to Pierre +that this comet fully responded to what was passing in his own +softened and uplifted soul, now blossoming into a new life. + +BOOK NINE: 1812 + +CHAPTER I + +From the close of the year 1811 intensified arming and concentrating +of the forces of Western Europe began, and in 1812 these forces- +millions of men, reckoning those transporting and feeding the army- +moved from the west eastwards to the Russian frontier, toward which +since 1811 Russian forces had been similarly drawn. On the twelfth +of June, 1812, the forces of Western Europe crossed the Russian +frontier and war began, that is, an event took place opposed to +human reason and to human nature. Millions of men perpetrated +against one another such innumerable crimes, frauds, treacheries, +thefts, forgeries, issues of false money, burglaries, incendiarisms, +and murders as in whole centuries are not recorded in the annals of +all the law courts of the world, but which those who committed them +did not at the time regard as being crimes. + +What produced this extraordinary occurrence? What were its causes? +The historians tell us with naive assurance that its causes were the +wrongs inflicted on the Duke of Oldenburg, the nonobservance of the +Continental System, the ambition of Napoleon, the firmness of +Alexander, the mistakes of the diplomatists, and so on. + +Consequently, it would only have been necessary for Metternich, +Rumyantsev, or Talleyrand, between a levee and an evening party, to +have taken proper pains and written a more adroit note, or for +Napoleon to have written to Alexander: "My respected Brother, I +consent to restore the duchy to the Duke of Oldenburg"- and there +would have been no war. + +We can understand that the matter seemed like that to +contemporaries. It naturally seemed to Napoleon that the war was +caused by England's intrigues (as in fact he said on the island of St. +Helena). It naturally seemed to members of the English Parliament that +the cause of the war was Napoleon's ambition; to the Duke of +Oldenburg, that the cause of the war was the violence done to him; +to businessmen that the cause of the way was the Continental System +which was ruining Europe; to the generals and old soldiers that the +chief reason for the war was the necessity of giving them +employment; to the legitimists of that day that it was the need of +re-establishing les bons principes, and to the diplomatists of that +time that it all resulted from the fact that the alliance between +Russia and Austria in 1809 had not been sufficiently well concealed +from Napoleon, and from the awkward wording of Memorandum No. 178. +It is natural that these and a countless and infinite quantity of +other reasons, the number depending on the endless diversity of points +of view, presented themselves to the men of that day; but to us, to +posterity who view the thing that happened in all its magnitude and +perceive its plain and terrible meaning, these causes seem +insufficient. To us it is incomprehensible that millions of +Christian men killed and tortured each other either because Napoleon +was ambitious or Alexander was firm, or because England's policy was +astute or the Duke of Oldenburg wronged. We cannot grasp what +connection such circumstances have with the actual fact of slaughter +and violence: why because the Duke was wronged, thousands of men +from the other side of Europe killed and ruined the people of Smolensk +and Moscow and were killed by them. + +To us, their descendants, who are not historians and are not carried +away by the process of research and can therefore regard the event +with unclouded common sense, an incalculable number of causes +present themselves. The deeper we delve in search of these causes +the more of them we find; and each separate cause or whole series of +causes appears to us equally valid in itself and equally false by +its insignificance compared to the magnitude of the events, and by its +impotence- apart from the cooperation of all the other coincident +causes- to occasion the event. To us, the wish or objection of this or +that French corporal to serve a second term appears as much a cause as +Napoleon's refusal to withdraw his troops beyond the Vistula and to +restore the duchy of Oldenburg; for had he not wished to serve, and +had a second, a third, and a thousandth corporal and private also +refused, there would have been so many less men in Napoleon's army and +the war could not have occurred. + +Had Napoleon not taken offense at the demand that he should withdraw +beyond the Vistula, and not ordered his troops to advance, there would +have been no war; but had all his sergeants objected to serving a +second term then also there could have been no war. Nor could there +have been a war had there been no English intrigues and no Duke of +Oldenburg, and had Alexander not felt insulted, and had there not been +an autocratic government in Russia, or a Revolution in France and a +subsequent dictatorship and Empire, or all the things that produced +the French Revolution, and so on. Without each of these causes nothing +could have happened. So all these causes- myriads of causes- coincided +to bring it about. And so there was no one cause for that +occurrence, but it had to occur because it had to. Millions of men, +renouncing their human feelings and reason, had to go from west to +east to slay their fellows, just as some centuries previously hordes +of men had come from the east to the west, slaying their fellows. + +The actions of Napoleon and Alexander, on whose words the event +seemed to hang, were as little voluntary as the actions of any soldier +who was drawn into the campaign by lot or by conscription. This +could not be otherwise, for in order that the will of Napoleon and +Alexander (on whom the event seemed to depend) should be carried +out, the concurrence of innumerable circumstances was needed without +any one of which the event could not have taken place. It was +necessary that millions of men in whose hands lay the real power- +the soldiers who fired, or transported provisions and guns- should +consent to carry out the will of these weak individuals, and should +have been induced to do so by an infinite number of diverse and +complex causes. + +We are forced to fall back on fatalism as an explanation of +irrational events (that is to say, events the reasonableness of +which we do not understand). The more we try to explain such events in +history reasonably, the more unreasonable and incomprehensible do they +become to us. + +Each man lives for himself, using his freedom to attain his personal +aims, and feels with his whole being that he can now do or abstain +from doing this or that action; but as soon as he has done it, that +action performed at a certain moment in time becomes irrevocable and +belongs to history, in which it has not a free but a predestined +significance. + +There are two sides to the life of every man, his individual life, +which is the more free the more abstract its interests, and his +elemental hive life in which he inevitably obeys laws laid down for +him. + +Man lives consciously for himself, but is an unconscious +instrument in the attainment of the historic, universal, aims of +humanity. A deed done is irrevocable, and its result coinciding in +time with the actions of millions of other men assumes an historic +significance. The higher a man stands on the social ladder, the more +people he is connected with and the more power he has over others, the +more evident is the predestination and inevitability of his every +action. + +"The king's heart is in the hands of the Lord." + +A king is history's slave. + +History, that is, the unconscious, general, hive life of mankind, +uses every moment of the life of kings as a tool for its own purposes. + +Though Napoleon at that time, in 1812, was more convinced than +ever that it depended on him, verser (ou ne pas verser) le sang de ses +peuples~^ as Alexander expressed it in the last letter he wrote him- +he had never been so much in the grip of inevitable laws, which +compelled him, while thinking that he was acting on his own +volition, to perform for the hive life- that is to say, for history- +whatever had to be performed. + +^~ "To shed (or not to shed) the blood of his peoples." + +The people of the west moved eastwards to slay their fellow men, and +by the law of coincidence thousands of minute causes fitted in and +co-ordinated to produce that movement and war: reproaches for the +nonobservance of the Continental System, the Duke of Oldenburg's +wrongs, the movement of troops into Prussia- undertaken (as it +seemed to Napoleon) only for the purpose of securing an armed peace, +the French Emperor's love and habit of war coinciding with his +people's inclinations, allurement by the grandeur of the preparations, +and the expenditure on those preparations and the need of obtaining +advantages to compensate for that expenditure, the intoxicating honors +he received in Dresden, the diplomatic negotiations which, in the +opinion of contemporaries, were carried on with a sincere desire to +attain peace, but which only wounded the self-love of both sides, +and millions and millions of other causes that adapted themselves to +the event that was happening or coincided with it. + +When an apple has ripened and falls, why does it fall? Because of +its attraction to the earth, because its stalk withers, because it +is dried by the sun, because it grows heavier, because the wind shakes +it, or because the boy standing below wants to eat it? + +Nothing is the cause. All this is only the coincidence of conditions +in which all vital organic and elemental events occur. And the +botanist who finds that the apple falls because the cellular tissue +decays and so forth is equally right with the child who stands under +the tree and says the apple fell because he wanted to eat it and +prayed for it. Equally right or wrong is he who says that Napoleon +went to Moscow because he wanted to, and perished because Alexander +desired his destruction, and he who says that an undermined hill +weighing a million tons fell because the last navvy struck it for +the last time with his mattock. In historic events the so-called great +men are labels giving names to events, and like labels they have but +the smallest connection with the event itself. + +Every act of theirs, which appears to them an act of their own will, +is in an historical sense involuntary and is related to the whole +course of history and predestined from eternity. + +CHAPTER II + +On the twenty-ninth of May Napoleon left Dresden, where he had spent +three weeks surrounded by a court that included princes, dukes, kings, +and even an emperor. Before leaving, Napoleon showed favor to the +emperor, kings, and princes who had deserved it, reprimanded the kings +and princes with whom he was dissatisfied, presented pearls and +diamonds of his own- that is, which he had taken from other kings- +to the Empress of Austria, and having, as his historian tells us, +tenderly embraced the Empress Marie Louise- who regarded him as her +husband, though he had left another wife in Paris- left her grieved by +the parting which she seemed hardly able to bear. Though the +diplomatists still firmly believed in the possibility of peace and +worked zealously to that end, and though the Emperor Napoleon +himself wrote a letter to Alexander, calling him Monsieur mon frere, +and sincerely assured him that he did not want war and would always +love and honor him- yet he set off to join his army, and at every +station gave fresh orders to accelerate the movement of his troops +from west to east. He went in a traveling coach with six horses, +surrounded by pages, aides-de-camp, and an escort, along the road to +Posen, Thorn, Danzig, and Konigsberg. At each of these towns thousands +of people met him with excitement and enthusiasm. + +The army was moving from west to east, and relays of six horses +carried him in the same direction. On the tenth of June,~^ coming up +with the army, he spent the night in apartments prepared for him on +the estate of a Polish count in the Vilkavisski forest. + +^~ Old style. + +Next day, overtaking the army, he went in a carriage to the +Niemen, and, changing into a Polish uniform, he drove to the riverbank +in order to select a place for the crossing. + +Seeing, on the other side, some Cossacks (les Cosaques) and the +wide-spreading steppes in the midst of which lay the holy city of +Moscow (Moscou, la ville sainte), the capital of a realm such as the +Scythia into which Alexander the Great had marched- Napoleon +unexpectedly, and contrary alike to strategic and diplomatic +considerations, ordered an advance, and the next day his army began to +cross the Niemen. + +Early in the morning of the twelfth of June he came out of his tent, +which was pitched that day on the steep left bank of the Niemen, and +looked through a spyglass at the streams of his troops pouring out +of the Vilkavisski forest and flowing over the three bridges thrown +across the river. The troops, knowing of the Emperor's presence, +were on the lookout for him, and when they caught sight of a figure in +an overcoat and a cocked hat standing apart from his suite in front of +his tent on the hill, they threw up their caps and shouted: "Vive +l'Empereur!" and one after another poured in a ceaseless stream out of +the vast forest that had concealed them and, separating, flowed on and +on by the three bridges to the other side. + +"Now we'll go into action. Oh, when he takes it in hand himself, +things get hot... by heaven!... There he is!... Vive l'Empereur! So +these are the steppes of Asia! It's a nasty country all the same. Au +revoir, Beauche; I'll keep the best palace in Moscow for you! Au +revoir. Good luck!... Did you see the Emperor? Vive l'Empereur!... +preur!- If they make me Governor of India, Gerard, I'll make you +Minister of Kashmir- that's settled. Vive l'Empereur! Hurrah! +hurrah! hurrah! The Cossacks- those rascals- see how they run! Vive +l'Empereur! There he is, do you see him? I've seen him twice, as I see +you now. The little corporal... I saw him give the cross to one of the +veterans.... Vive l'Empereur!" came the voices of men, old and +young, of most diverse characters and social positions. On the faces +of all was one common expression of joy at the commencement of the +long-expected campaign and of rapture and devotion to the man in the +gray coat who was standing on the hill. + +On the thirteenth of June a rather small, thoroughbred Arab horse +was brought to Napoleon. He mounted it and rode at a gallop to one +of the bridges over the Niemen, deafened continually by incessant +and rapturous acclamations which he evidently endured only because +it was impossible to forbid the soldiers to express their love of +him by such shouting, but the shouting which accompanied him +everywhere disturbed him and distracted him from the military cares +that had occupied him from the time he joined the army. He rode across +one of the swaying pontoon bridges to the farther side, turned sharply +to the left, and galloped in the direction of Kovno, preceded by +enraptured, mounted chasseurs of the Guard who, breathless with +delight, galloped ahead to clear a path for him through the troops. On +reaching the broad river Viliya, he stopped near a regiment of +Polish Uhlans stationed by the river. + +"Vivat!" shouted the Poles, ecstatically, breaking their ranks and +pressing against one another to see him. + +Napoleon looked up and down the river, dismounted, and sat down on a +log that lay on the bank. At a mute sign from him, a telescope was +handed him which he rested on the back of a happy page who had run +up to him, and he gazed at the opposite bank. Then he became +absorbed in a map laid out on the logs. Without lifting his head he +said something, and two of his aides-de-camp galloped off to the +Polish Uhlans. + +"What? What did he say?" was heard in the ranks of the Polish Uhlans +when one of the aides-de-camp rode up to them. + +The order was to find a ford and to cross the river. The colonel +of the Polish Uhlans, a handsome old man, flushed and, fumbling in his +speech from excitement, asked the aide-de-camp whether he would be +permitted to swim the river with his Uhlans instead of seeking a ford. +In evident fear of refusal, like a boy asking for permission to get on +a horse, he begged to be allowed to swim across the river before the +Emperor's eyes. The aide-de-camp replied that probably the Emperor +would not be displeased at this excess of zeal. + +As soon as the aide-de-camp had said this, the old mustached +officer, with happy face and sparkling eyes, raised his saber, shouted +"Vivat!" and, commanding the Uhlans to follow him, spurred his horse +and galloped into the river. He gave an angry thrust to his horse, +which had grown restive under him, and plunged into the water, heading +for the deepest part where the current was swift. Hundreds of Uhlans +galloped in after him. It was cold and uncanny in the rapid current in +the middle of the stream, and the Uhlans caught hold of one another as +they fell off their horses. Some of the horses were drowned and some +of the men; the others tried to swim on, some in the saddle and some +clinging to their horses' manes. They tried to make their way +forward to the opposite bank and, though there was a ford one third of +a mile away, were proud that they were swimming and drowning in this +river under the eyes of the man who sat on the log and was not even +looking at what they were doing. When the aide-de-camp, having +returned and choosing an opportune moment, ventured to draw the +Emperor's attention to the devotion of the Poles to his person, the +little man in the gray overcoat got up and, having summoned +Berthier, began pacing up and down the bank with him, giving him +instructions and occasionally glancing disapprovingly at the +drowning Uhlans who distracted his attention. + +For him it was no new conviction that his presence in any part of +the world, from Africa to the steppes of Muscovy alike, was enough +to dumfound people and impel them to insane self-oblivion. He called +for his horse and rode to his quarters. + +Some forty Uhlans were drowned in the river, though boats were +sent to their assistance. The majority struggled back to the bank from +which they had started. The colonel and some of his men got across and +with difficulty clambered out on the further bank. And as soon as they +had got out, in their soaked and streaming clothes, they shouted +"Vivat!" and looked ecstatically at the spot where Napoleon had been +but where he no longer was and at that moment considered themselves +happy. + +That evening, between issuing one order that the forged Russian +paper money prepared for use in Russia should be delivered as +quickly as possible and another that a Saxon should be shot, on whom a +letter containing information about the orders to the French army +had been found, Napoleon also gave instructions that the Polish +colonel who had needlessly plunged into the river should be enrolled +in the Legion d'honneur of which Napoleon was himself the head. + +Quos vult perdere dementat.~^ + +^~ Those whom (God) wishes to destroy he drives mad. + +CHAPTER III + +The Emperor of Russia had, meanwhile, been in Vilna for more than +a month. reviewing troops and holding maneuvers. Nothing was ready for +the war that everyone expected and to prepare for which the Emperor +had come from Petersburg. There was no general plan of action. The +vacillation between the various plans that were proposed had even +increased after the Emperor had been at headquarters for a month. Each +of the three armies had its own commander in chief, but there was no +supreme commander of all the forces, and the Emperor did not assume +that responsibility himself. + +The longer the Emperor remained in Vilna the less did everybody- +tired of waiting- prepare for the war. All the efforts of those who +surrounded the sovereign seemed directed merely to making him spend +his time pleasantly and forget that war was impending. + +In June, after many balls and fetes given by the Polish magnates, by +the courtiers, and by the Emperor himself, it occurred to one of the +Polish aides-de-camp in attendance that a dinner and ball should be +given for the Emperor by his aides-de-camp. This idea was eagerly +received. The Emperor gave his consent. The aides-de-camp collected +money by subscription. The lady who was thought to be most pleasing to +the Emperor was invited to act as hostess. Count Bennigsen, being a +landowner in the Vilna province, offered his country house for the +fete, and the thirteenth of June was fixed for a ball, dinner, +regatta, and fireworks at Zakret, Count Bennigsen's country seat. + +The very day that Napoleon issued the order to cross the Niemen, and +his vanguard, driving off the Cossacks, crossed the Russian +frontier, Alexander spent the evening at the entertainment given by +his aides-de-camp at Bennigsen's country house. + +It was a gay and brilliant fete. Connoisseurs of such matters +declared that rarely had so many beautiful women been assembled in one +place. Countess Bezukhova was present among other Russian ladies who +had followed the sovereign from Petersburg to Vilna and eclipsed the +refined Polish ladies by her massive, so called Russian type of +beauty. The Emperor noticed her and honored her with a dance. + +Boris Drubetskoy, having left his wife in Moscow and being for the +present en garcon (as he phrased it), was also there and, though not +an aide-de-camp, had subscribed a large sum toward the expenses. Boris +was now a rich man who had risen to high honors and no longer sought +patronage but stood on an equal footing with the highest of those of +his own age. He was meeting Helene in Vilna after not having seen +her for a long time and did not recall the past, but as Helene was +enjoying the favors of a very important personage and Boris had only +recently married, they met as good friends of long standing. + +At midnight dancing was still going on. Helene, not having a +suitable partner, herself offered to dance the mazurka with Boris. +They were the third couple. Boris, coolly looking at Helene's dazzling +bare shoulders which emerged from a dark, gold-embroidered, gauze +gown, talked to her of old acquaintances and at the same time, unaware +of it himself and unnoticed by others, never for an instant ceased +to observe the Emperor who was in the same room. The Emperor was not +dancing, he stood in the doorway, stopping now one pair and now +another with gracious words which he alone knew how to utter. + +As the mazurka began, Boris saw that Adjutant General Balashev, +one of those in closest attendance on the Emperor, went up to him +and contrary to court etiquette stood near him while he was talking to +a Polish lady. Having finished speaking to her, the Emperor looked +inquiringly at Balashev and, evidently understanding that he only +acted thus because there were important reasons for so doing, nodded +slightly to the lady and turned to him. Hardly had Balashev begun to +speak before a look of amazement appeared on the Emperor's face. He +took Balashev by the arm and crossed the room with him, +unconsciously clearing a path seven yards wide as the people on both +sides made way for him. Boris noticed Arakcheev's excited face when +the sovereign went out with Balashev. Arakcheev looked at the +Emperor from under his brow and, sniffing with his red nose, stepped +forward from the crowd as if expecting the Emperor to address him. +(Boris understood that Arakcheev envied Balashev and was displeased +that evidently important news had reached the Emperor otherwise than +through himself.) + +But the Emperor and Balashev passed out into the illuminated +garden without noticing Arakcheev who, holding his sword and +glancing wrathfully around, followed some twenty paces behind them. + +All the time Boris was going through the figures of the mazurka, +he was worried by the question of what news Balashev had brought and +how he could find it out before others. In the figure in which he +had to choose two ladies, he whispered to Helene that he meant to +choose Countess Potocka who, he thought, had gone out onto the +veranda, and glided over the parquet to the door opening into the +garden, where, seeing Balashev and the Emperor returning to the +veranda, he stood still. They were moving toward the door. Boris, +fluttering as if he had not had time to withdraw, respectfully pressed +close to the doorpost with bowed head. + +The Emperor, with the agitation of one who has been personally +affronted, was finishing with these words: + +"To enter Russia without declaring war! I will not make peace as +long as a single armed enemy remains in my country!" It seemed to +Boris that it gave the Emperor pleasure to utter these words. He was +satisfied with the form in which he had expressed his thoughts, but +displeased that Boris had overheard it. + +"Let no one know of it! " the Emperor added with a frown. + +Boris understood that this was meant for him and, closing his +eyes, slightly bowed his head. The Emperor re-entered the ballroom and +remained there about another half-hour. + +Boris was thus the first to learn the news that the French army +had crossed the Niemen and, thanks to this, was able to show certain +important personages that much that was concealed from others was +usually known to him, and by this means he rose higher in their +estimation. + +The unexpected news of the French having crossed the Niemen was +particularly startling after a month of unfulfilled expectations, +and at a ball. On first receiving the news, under the influence of +indignation and resentment the Emperor had found a phrase that pleased +him, fully expressed his feelings, and has since become famous. On +returning home at two o'clock that night he sent for his secretary, +Shishkov, and told him to write an order to the troops and a +rescript to Field Marshal Prince Saltykov, in which he insisted on the +words being inserted that he would not make peace so long as a +single armed Frenchman remained on Russian soil. + +Next day the following letter was sent to Napoleon: + +Monsieur mon frere, + +Yesterday I learned that, despite the loyalty which I have kept my +engagements with Your Majesty, your troops have crossed the Russian +frontier, and I have this moment received from Petersburg a note, in +which Count Lauriston informs me, as a reason for this aggression, +that Your Majesty has considered yourself to be in a state of war with +me from the time Prince Kuragin asked for his passports. The reasons +on which the Duc de Bassano based his refusal to deliver them to him +would never have led me to suppose that that could serve as a +pretext for aggression. In fact, the ambassador, as he himself has +declared, was never authorized to make that demand, and as soon as I +was informed of it I let him know how much I disapproved of it and +ordered him to remain at his post. If Your Majesty does not intend +to shed the blood of our peoples for such a misunderstanding, and +consents to withdraw your troops from Russian territory, I will regard +what has passed as not having occurred and an understanding between us +will be possible. In the contrary case, Your Majesty, I shall see +myself forced to repel an attack that nothing on my part has provoked. +It still depends on Your Majesty to preserve humanity from the +calamity of another war. I am, etc., + +(signed) Alexander + +CHAPTER IV + +At two in the morning of the fourteenth of June, the Emperor, having +sent for Balashev and read him his letter to Napoleon, ordered him +to take it and hand it personally to the French Emperor. When +dispatching Balashev, the Emperor repeated to him the words that he +would not make peace so long as a single armed enemy remained on +Russian soil and told him to transmit those words to Napoleon. +Alexander did not insert them in his letter to Napoleon, because +with his characteristic tact he felt it would be injudicious to use +them at a moment when a last attempt at reconciliation was being made, +but he definitely instructed Balashev to repeat them personally to +Napoleon. + +Having set off in the small hours of the fourteenth, accompanied +by a bugler and two Cossacks, Balashev reached the French outposts +at the village of Rykonty, on the Russian side of the Niemen, by dawn. +There he was stopped by French cavalry sentinels. + +A French noncommissioned officer of hussars, in crimson uniform +and a shaggy cap, shouted to the approaching Balashev to halt. +Balashev did not do so at once, but continued to advance along the +road at a walking pace. + +The noncommissioned officer frowned and, muttering words of abuse, +advanced his horse's chest against Balashev, put his hand to his +saber, and shouted rudely at the Russian general, asking: was he +deaf that he did not do as he was told? Balashev mentioned who he was. +The noncommissioned officer began talking with his comrades about +regimental matters without looking at the Russian general. + +After living at the seat of the highest authority and power, after +conversing with the Emperor less than three hours before, and in +general being accustomed to the respect due to his rank in the +service, Balashev found it very strange here on Russian soil to +encounter this hostile, and still more this disrespectful, application +of brute force to himself. + +The sun was only just appearing from behind the clouds, the air +was fresh and dewy. A herd of cattle was being driven along the road +from the village, and over the fields the larks rose trilling, one +after another, like bubbles rising in water. + +Balashev looked around him, awaiting the arrival of an officer +from the village. The Russian Cossacks and bugler and the French +hussars looked silently at one another from time to time. + +A French colonel of hussars, who had evidently just left his bed, +came riding from the village on a handsome sleek gray horse, +accompanied by two hussars. The officer, the soldiers, and their +horses all looked smart and well kept. + +It was that first period of a campaign when troops are still in full +trim, almost like that of peacetime maneuvers, but with a shade of +martial swagger in their clothes, and a touch of the gaiety and spirit +of enterprise which always accompany the opening of a campaign. + +The French colonel with difficulty repressed a yawn, but was +polite and evidently understood Balashev's importance. He led him past +his soldiers and behind the outposts and told him that his wish to +be presented to the Emperor would most likely be satisfied +immediately, as the Emperor's quarters were, he believed, not far off. + +They rode through the village of Rykonty, past tethered French +hussar horses, past sentinels and men who saluted their colonel and +stared with curiosity at a Russian uniform, and came out at the +other end of the village. The colonel said that the commander of the +division was a mile and a quarter away and would receive Balashev +and conduct him to his destination. + +The sun had by now risen and shone gaily on the bright verdure. + +They had hardly ridden up a hill, past a tavern, before they saw a +group of horsemen coming toward them. In front of the group, on a +black horse with trappings that glittered in the sun, rode a tall +man with plumes in his hat and black hair curling down to his +shoulders. He wore a red mantle, and stretched his long legs forward +in French fashion. This man rode toward Balashev at a gallop, his +plumes flowing and his gems and gold lace glittering in the bright +June sunshine. + +Balashev was only two horses' length from the equestrian with the +bracelets, plunies, necklaces, and gold embroidery, who was +galloping toward him with a theatrically solemn countenance, when +Julner, the French colonel, whispered respectfully: "The King of +Naples!" It was, in fact, Murat, now called "King of Naples." Though +it was quite incomprehensible why he should be King of Naples, he +was called so, and was himself convinced that he was so, and therefore +assumed a more solemn and important air than formerly. He was so +sure that he really was the King of Naples that when, on the eve of +his departure from that city, while walking through the streets with +his wife, some Italians called out to him: "Viva il re!"~^ he turned to +his wife with a pensive smile and said: "Poor fellows, they don't know +that I am leaving them tomorrow!" + +^~ "Long live the king." + +But though he firmly believed himself to be King of Naples and +pitied the grief felt by the subjects he was abandoning, latterly, +after he had been ordered to return to military service- and +especially since his last interview with Napoleon in Danzig, when +his august brother-in-law had told him: "I made you King that you +should reign in my way, but not in yours!"- he had cheerfully taken up +his familiar business, and- like a well-fed but not overfat horse that +feels himself in harness and grows skittish between the shafts- he +dressed up in clothes as variegated and expensive as possible, and +gaily and contentedly galloped along the roads of Poland, without +himself knowing why or whither. + +On seeing the Russian general he threw back his head, with its +long hair curling to his shoulders, in a majestically royal manner, +and looked inquiringly at the French colonel. The colonel respectfully +informed His Majesty of Balashev's mission, whose name he could not +pronounce. + +"De Bal-macheve!" said the King (overcoming by his assurance the +difficulty that had presented itself to the colonel). "Charmed to make +your acquaintance, General!" he added, with a gesture of kingly +condescension. + +As soon as the King began to speak loud and fast his royal dignity +instantly forsook him, and without noticing it he passed into his +natural tone of good-natured familiarity. He laid his hand on the +withers of Balashev's horse and said: + +"Well, General, it all looks like war," as if regretting a +circumstance of which he was unable to judge. + +"Your Majesty," replied Balashev, "my master, the Emperor, does +not desire war and as Your Majesty sees..." said Balashev, using the +words Your Majesty at every opportunity, with the affectation +unavoidable in frequently addressing one to whom the title was still a +novelty. + +Murat's face beamed with stupid satisfaction as he listened to +"Monsieur de Bal-macheve." But royaute oblige!~^ and he felt it +incumbent on him, as a king and an ally, to confer on state affairs +with Alexander's envoy. He dismounted, took Balashev's arm, and moving +a few steps away from his suite, which waited respectfully, began to +pace up and down with him, trying to speak significantly. He +referred to the fact that the Emperor Napoleon had resented the demand +that he should withdraw his troops from Prussia, especially when +that demand became generally known and the dignity of France was +thereby offended. + +^~ "Royalty has its obligations." + +Balashev replied that there was nothing offensive in the demand, +because..." but Murat interrupted him. + +"Then you don't consider the Emperor Alexander the aggressor?" he +asked unexpectedly, with a kindly and foolish smile. + +Balashev told him why he considered Napoleon to be the originator of +the war. + +"Oh, my dear general!" Murat again interrupted him, "with all my +heart I wish the Emperors may arrange the affair between them, and +that the war begun by no wish of mine may finish as quickly as +possible!" said he, in the tone of a servant who wants to remain +good friends with another despite a quarrel between their masters. + +And he went on to inquiries about the Grand Duke and the state of +his health, and to reminiscences of the gay and amusing times he had +spent with him in Naples. Then suddenly, as if remembering his royal +dignity, Murat solemnly drew himself up, assumed the pose in which +he had stood at his coronation. and, waving his right arm, said: + +"I won't detain you longer, General. I wish success to your +mission," and with his embroidered red mantle, his flowing feathers, +and his glittering ornaments, he rejoined his suite who were +respectfully awaiting him. + +Balashev rode on, supposing from Murat's words that he would very +soon be brought before Napoleon himself. But instead of that, at the +next village the sentinels of Davout's infantry corps detained him +as the pickets of the vanguard had done, and an adjutant of the +corps commander, who was fetched, conducted him into the village to +Marshal Davout. + +CHAPTER V + +Davout was to Napoleon what Arakcheev was to Alexander- though not a +coward like Arakcheev, he was as precise, as cruel, and as unable to +express his devotion to his monarch except by cruelty. + +In the organism of states such men are necessary, as wolves are +necessary in the organism of nature, and they always exist, always +appear and hold their own, however incongruous their presence and +their proximity to the head of the government may be. This +inevitability alone can explain how the cruel Arakcheev, who tore +out a grenadier's mustache with his own hands, whose weak nerves +rendered him unable to face danger, and who was neither an educated +man nor a courtier, was able to maintain his powerful position with +Alexander, whose own character was chivalrous, noble, and gentle. + +Balashev found Davout seated on a barrel in the shed of a +peasant's hut, writing- he was auditing accounts. Better quarters +could have been found him, but Marshal Davout was one of those men who +purposely put themselves in most depressing conditions to have a +justification for being gloomy. For the same reason they are always +hard at work and in a hurry. "How can I think of the bright side of +life when, as you see, I am sitting on a barrel and working in a dirty +shed?" the expression of his face seemed to say. The chief pleasure +and necessity of such men, when they encounter anyone who shows +animation, is to flaunt their own dreary, persistent activity. +Davout allowed himself that pleasure when Balashev was brought in. +He became still more absorbed in his task when the Russian general +entered, and after glancing over his spectacles at Balashev's face, +which was animated by the beauty of the morning and by his talk with +Murat, he did not rise or even stir, but scowled still more and +sneered malevolently. + +When he noticed in Balashev's face the disagreeable impression +this reception produced, Davout raised his head and coldly asked +what he wanted. + +Thinking he could have been received in such a manner only because +Davout did not know that he was adjutant general to the Emperor +Alexander and even his envoy to Napoleon, Balashev hastened to +inform him of his rank and mission. Contrary to his expectation, +Davout, after hearing him, became still surlier and ruder. + +"Where is your dispatch?" he inquired. "Give it to me. I will send +it to the Emperor." + +Balashev replied that he had been ordered to hand it personally to +the Emperor. + +"Your Emperor's orders are obeyed in your army, but here," said +Davout, "you must do as you're told." + +And, as if to make the Russian general still more conscious of his +dependence on brute force, Davout sent an adjutant to call the officer +on duty. + +Balashev took out the packet containing the Emperor's letter and +laid it on the table (made of a door with its hinges still hanging +on it, laid across two barrels). Davout took the packet and read the +inscription. + +"You are perfectly at liberty to treat me with respect or not," +protested Balashev, "but permit me to observe that I have the honor to +be adjutant general to His Majesty...." + +Davout glanced at him silently and plainly derived pleasure from the +signs of agitation and confusion which appeared on Balashev's face. + +"You will be treated as is fitting," said he and, putting the packet +in his pocket, left the shed. + +A minute later the marshal's adjutant, de Castres, came in and +conducted Balashev to the quarters assigned him. + +That day he dined with the marshal, at the same board on the +barrels. + +Next day Davout rode out early and, after asking Balashev to come to +him, peremptorily requested him to remain there, to move on with the +baggage train should orders come for it to move, and to talk to no one +except Monsieur de Castres. + +After four days of solitude, ennui, and consciousness of his +impotence and insignificance- particularly acute by contrast with +the sphere of power in which he had so lately moved- and after several +marches with the marshal's baggage and the French army, which occupied +the whole district, Balashev was brought to Vilna- now occupied by the +French- through the very gate by which he had left it four days +previously. + +Next day the imperial gentleman-in-waiting, the Comte de Turenne, +came to Balashev and informed him of the Emperor Napoleon's wish to +honor him with an audience. + +Four days before, sentinels of the Preobrazhensk regiment had +stood in front of the house to which Balashev was conducted, and now +two French grenadiers stood there in blue uniforms unfastened in front +and with shaggy caps on their heads, and an escort of hussars and +Uhlans and a brilliant suite of aides-de-camp, pages, and generals, +who were waiting for Napoleon to come out, were standing at the porch, +round his saddle horse and his Mameluke, Rustan. Napoleon received +Balashev in the very house in Vilna from which Alexander had +dispatched him on his mission. + +CHAPTER VI + +Though Balashev was used to imperial pomp, he was amazed at the +luxury and magnificence of Napoleon's court. + +The Comte de Turenne showed him into a big reception room where many +generals, gentlemen-in-waiting, and Polish magnates- several of whom +Balashev had seen at the court of the Emperor of Russia- were waiting. +Duroc said that Napoleon would receive the Russian general before +going for his ride. + +After some minutes, the gentleman-in-waiting who was on duty came +into the great reception room and, bowing politely, asked Balashev +to follow him. + +Balashev went into a small reception room, one door of which led +into a study, the very one from which the Russian Emperor had +dispatched him on his mission. He stood a minute or two, waiting. He +heard hurried footsteps beyond the door, both halves of it were opened +rapidly; all was silent and then from the study the sound was heard of +other steps, firm and resolute- they were those of Napoleon. He had +just finished dressing for his ride, and wore a blue uniform, +opening in front over a white waistcoat so long that it covered his +rotund stomach, white leather breeches tightly fitting the fat +thighs of his short legs, and Hessian boots. His short hair had +evidently just been brushed, but one lock hung down in the middle of +his broad forehead. His plump white neck stood out sharply above the +black collar of his uniform, and he smelled of Eau de Cologne. His +full face, rather young-looking, with its prominent chin, wore a +gracious and majestic expression of imperial welcome. + +He entered briskly, with a jerk at every step and his head +slightly thrown back. His whole short corpulent figure with broad +thick shoulders, and chest and stomach involuntarily protruding, had +that imposing and stately appearance one sees in men of forty who live +in comfort. It was evident, too, that he was in the best of spirits +that day. + +He nodded in answer to Balashav's low and respectful bow, and coming +up to him at once began speaking like a man who values every moment of +his time and does not condescend to prepare what he has to say but +is sure he will always say the right thing and say it well. + +"Good day, General!" said he. "I have received the letter you +brought from the Emperor Alexander and am very glad to see you." He +glanced with his large eyes into Balashav's face and immediately +looked past him. + +It was plain that Balashev's personality did not interest him at +all. Evidently only what took place within his own mind interested +him. Nothing outside himself had any significance for him, because +everything in the world, it seemed to him, depended entirely on his +will. + +"I do not, and did not, desire war," he continued, "but it has +been forced on me. Even now" (he emphasized the word) "I am ready to +receive any explanations you can give me." + +And he began clearly and concisely to explain his reasons for +dissatisfaction with the Russian government. Judging by the calmly +moderate and amicable tone in which the French Emperor spoke, Balashev +was firmly persuaded that he wished for peace and intended to enter +into negotiations. + +When Napoleon, having finished speaking, looked inquiringly at the +Russian envoy, Balashev began a speech he had prepared long before: +"Sire! The Emperor, my master..." but the sight of the Emperor's +eyes bent on him confused him. "You are flurried- compose yourself!" +Napoleon seemed to say, as with a scarcely perceptible smile he looked +at Balashev's uniform and sword. + +Balashev recovered himself and began to speak. He said that the +Emperor Alexander did not consider Kurakin's demand for his +passports a sufficient cause for war; that Kurakin had acted on his +own initiative and without his sovereign's assent, that the Emperor +Alexander did not desire war, and had no relations with England. + +"Not yet!" interposed Napoleon, and, as if fearing to give vent to +his feelings, he frowned and nodded slightly as a sign that Balashev +might proceed. + +After saying all he had been instructed to say, Balashev added +that the Emperor Alexander wished for peace, but would not enter +into negotiations except on condition that... Here Balashev hesitated: +he remembered the words the Emperor Alexander had not written in his +letter, but had specially inserted in the rescript to Saltykov and had +told Balashev to repeat to Napoleon. Balashev remembered these +words, "So long as a single armed foe remains on Russian soil," but +some complex feeling restrained him. He could not utter them, though +he wished to do so. He grew confused and said: "On condition that +the French army retires beyond the Niemen." + +Napoleon noticed Balashev's embarrassment when uttering these last +words; his face twitched and the calf of his left leg began to +quiver rhythmically. Without moving from where he stood he began +speaking in a louder tone and more hurriedly than before. During the +speech that followed, Balashev, who more than once lowered his eyes, +involuntarily noticed the quivering of Napoleon's left leg which +increased the more Napoleon raised his voice. + +"I desire peace, no less than the Emperor Alexander," he began. +"Have I not for eighteen months been doing everything to obtain it? +I have waited eighteen months for explanations. But in order to +begin negotiations, what is demanded of me?" he said, frowning and +making an energetic gesture of inquiry with his small white plump +hand. + +"The withdrawal of your army beyond the Niemen, sire," replied +Balashev. + +"The Niemen?" repeated Napoleon. "So now you want me to retire +beyond the Niemen- only the Niemen?" repeated Napoleon, looking +straight at Balashev. + +The latter bowed his head respectfully. + +Instead of the demand of four months earlier to withdraw from +Pomerania, only a withdrawal beyond the Niemen was now demanded. +Napoleon turned quickly and began to pace the room. + +"You say the demand now is that I am to withdraw beyond the Niemen +before commencing negotiations, but in just the same way two months +ago the demand was that I should withdraw beyond the Vistula and the +Oder, and yet you are willing to negotiate." + +He went in silence from one corner of the room to the other and +again stopped in front of Balashev. Balashev noticed that his left leg +was quivering faster than before and his face seemed petrified in +its stern expression. This quivering of his left leg was a thing +Napoleon was conscious of. "The vibration of my left calf is a great +sign with me," he remarked at a later date. + +"Such demands as to retreat beyond the Vistula and Oder may be +made to a Prince of Baden, but not to me!" Napoleon almost screamed, +quite to his own surprise. "If you gave me Petersburg and Moscow I +could not accept such conditions. You say I have begun this war! But +who first joined his army? The Emperor Alexander, not I! And you offer +me negotiations when I have expended millions, when you are in +alliance with England, and when your position is a bad one. You +offer me negotiations! But what is the aim of your alliance with +England? What has she given you?" he continued hurriedly, evidently no +longer trying to show the advantages of peace and discuss its +possibility, but only to prove his own rectitude and power and +Alexander's errors and duplicity. + +The commencement of his speech had obviously been made with the +intention of demonstrating the advantages of his position and +showing that he was nevertheless willing to negotiate. But he had +begun talking, and the more he talked the less could he control his +words. + +The whole purport of his remarks now was evidently to exalt +himself and insult Alexander- just what he had least desired at the +commencement of the interview. + +"I hear you have made peace with Turkey?" + +Balashev bowed his head affirmatively. + +"Peace has been concluded..." he began. + +But Napoleon did not let him speak. He evidently wanted to do all +the talking himself, and continued to talk with the sort of +eloquence and unrestrained irritability to which spoiled people are so +prone. + +"Yes, I know you have made peace with the Turks without obtaining +Moldavia and Wallachia; I would have given your sovereign those +provinces as I gave him Finland. Yes," he went on, "I promised and +would have given the Emperor Alexander Moldavia and Wallachia, and now +he won't have those splendid provinces. Yet he might have united +them to his empire and in a single reign would have extended Russia +from the Gulf of Bothnia to the mouths of the Danube. Catherine the +Great could not have done more," said Napoleon, growing more and +more excited as he paced up and down the room, repeating to Balashev +almost the very words he had used to Alexander himself at Tilsit. "All +that, he would have owed to my friendship. Oh, what a splendid reign!" +he repeated several times, then paused, drew from his pocket a gold +snuffbox, lifted it to his nose, and greedily sniffed at it. + +"What a splendid reign the Emperor Alexander's might have been!" + +He looked compassionately at Balashev, and as soon as the latter +tried to make some rejoinder hastily interrupted him. + +"What could he wish or look for that he would not have obtained +through my friendship?" demanded Napoleon, shrugging his shoulders +in perplexity. "But no, he has preferred to surround himself with my +enemies, and with whom? With Steins, Armfeldts, Bennigsens, and +Wintzingerodes! Stein, a traitor expelled from his own country; +Armfeldt, a rake and an intriguer; Wintzingerode, a fugitive French +subject; Bennigsen, rather more of a soldier than the others, but +all the same an incompetent who was unable to do anything in 1807 +and who should awaken terrible memories in the Emperor Alexander's +mind.... Granted that were they competent they might be made use +of," continued Napoleon- hardly able to keep pace in words with the +rush of thoughts that incessantly sprang up, proving how right and +strong he was (in his perception the two were one and the same)- +"but they are not even that! They are neither fit for war nor peace! +Barclay is said to be the most capable of them all, but I cannot say +so, judging by his first movements. And what are they doing, all these +courtiers? Pfuel proposes, Armfeldt disputes, Bennigsen considers, and +Barclay, called on to act, does not know what to decide on, and time +passes bringing no result. Bagration alone is a military man. He's +stupid, but he has experience, a quick eye, and resolution.... And +what role is your young monarch playing in that monstrous crowd? +They compromise him and throw on him the responsibility for all that +happens. A sovereign should not be with the army unless he is a +general!" said Napoleon, evidently uttering these words as a direct +challenge to the Emperor. He knew how Alexander desired to be a +military commander. + +"The campaign began only a week ago, and you haven't even been +able to defend Vilna. You are cut in two and have been driven out of +the Polish provinces. Your army is grumbling." + +"On the contrary, Your Majesty," said Balashev, hardly able to +remember what had been said to him and following these verbal +fireworks with difficulty, "the troops are burning with eagerness..." + +"I know everything!" Napoleon interrupted him. "I know everything. I +know the number of your battalions as exactly as I know my own. You +have not two hundred thousand men, and I have three times that number. +I give you my word of honor," said Napoleon, forgetting that his +word of honor could carry no weight- "I give you my word of honor that +I have five hundred and thirty thousand men this side of the +Vistula. The Turks will be of no use to you; they are worth nothing +and have shown it by making peace with you. As for the Swedes- it is +their fate to be governed by mad kings. Their king was insane and they +changed him for another- Bernadotte, who promptly went mad- for no +Swede would ally himself with Russia unless he were mad." + +Napoleon grinned maliciously and again raised his snuffbox to his +nose. + +Balashev knew how to reply to each of Napoleon's remarks, and +would have done so; he continually made the gesture of a man wishing +to say something, but Napoleon always interrupted him. To the +alleged insanity of the Swedes, Balashev wished to reply that when +Russia is on her side Sweden is practically an island: but Napoleon +gave an angry exclamation to drown his voice. Napoleon was in that +state of irritability in which a man has to talk, talk, and talk, +merely to convince himself that he is in the right. Balashev began +to feel uncomfortable: as envoy he feared to demean his dignity and +felt the necessity of replying; but, as a man, he shrank before the +transport of groundless wrath that had evidently seized Napoleon. He +knew that none of the words now uttered by Napoleon had any +significance, and that Napoleon himself would be ashamed of them +when he came to his senses. Balashev stood with downcast eyes, looking +at the movements of Napoleon's stout legs and trying to avoid +meeting his eyes. + +"But what do I care about your allies?" said Napoleon. "I have +allies- the Poles. There are eighty thousand of them and they fight +like lions. And there will be two hundred thousand of them." + +And probably still more perturbed by the fact that he had uttered +this obvious falsehood, and that Balashev still stood silently +before him in the same attitude of submission to fate, Napoleon +abruptly turned round, drew close to Balashev's face, and, +gesticulating rapidly and energetically with his white hands, almost +shouted: + +"Know that if you stir up Prussia against me, I'll wipe it off the +map of Europe!" he declared, his face pale and distorted by anger, and +he struck one of his small hands energetically with the other. "Yes, I +will throw you back beyond the Dvina and beyond the Dnieper, and +will re-erect against you that barrier which it was criminal and blind +of Europe to allow to be destroyed. Yes, that is what will happen to +you. That is what you have gained by alienating me!" And he walked +silently several times up and down the room, his fat shoulders +twitching. + +He put his snuffbox into his waistcoat pocket, took it out again, +lifted it several times to his nose, and stopped in front of Balashev. +He paused, looked ironically straight into Balashev's eyes, and said +in a quiet voice: + +"And yet what a splendid reign your master might have had!" + +Balashev, feeling it incumbent on him to reply, said that from the +Russian side things did not appear in so gloomy a light. Napoleon +was silent, still looking derisively at him and evidently not +listening to him. Balashev said that in Russia the best results were +expected from the war. Napoleon nodded condescendingly, as if to +say, "I know it's your duty to say that, but you don't believe it +yourself. I have convinced you." + +When Balashev had ended, Napoleon again took out his snuffbox, +sniffed at it, and stamped his foot twice on the floor as a signal. +The door opened, a gentleman-in-waiting, bending respectfully, +handed the Emperor his hat and gloves; another brought hima pocket +handkerchief. Napoleon, without giving them a glance, turned to +Balashev: + +"Assure the Emperor Alexander from me," said he, taking his hat, +"that I am as devoted to him as before: I know him thoroughly and very +highly esteem his lofty qualities. I will detain you no longer, +General; you shall receive my letter to the Emperor." + +And Napoleon went quickly to the door. Everyone in the reception +room rushed forward and descended the staircase. + +CHAPTER VII + +After all that Napoleon had said to him- those bursts of anger and +the last dryly spoken words: "I will detain you no longer, General; +you shall receive my letter," Balashev felt convinced that Napoleon +would not wish to see him, and would even avoid another meeting with +him- an insulted envoy- especially as he had witnessed his unseemly +anger. But, to his surprise, Balashev received, through Duroc, an +invitation to dine with the Emperor that day. + +Bessieres, Caulaincourt, and Berthier were present at that dinner. + +Napoleon met Balashev cheerfully and amiably. He not only showed +no sign of constraint or self-reproach on account of his outburst that +morning, but, on the contrary, tried to reassure Balashev. It was +evident that he had long been convinced that it was impossible for him +to make a mistake, and that in his perception whatever he did was +right, not because it harmonized with any idea of right and wrong, but +because he did it. + +The Emperor was in very good spirits after his ride through Vilna, +where crowds of people had rapturously greeted and followed him. +From all the windows of the streets through which he rode, rugs, +flags, and his monogram were displayed, and the Polish ladies, +welcoming him, waved their handkerchiefs to him. + +At dinner, having placed Balashev beside him, Napoleon not only +treated him amiably but behaved as if Balashev were one of his own +courtiers, one of those who sympathized with his plans and ought to +rejoice at his success. In the course of conversation he mentioned +Moscow and questioned Balashev about the Russian capital, not merely +as an interested traveler asks about a new city he intends to visit, +but as if convinced that Balashev, as a Russian, must be flattered +by his curiosity. + +"How many inhabitants are there in Moscow? How many houses? Is it +true that Moscow is called 'Holy Moscow'? How many churches are +there in Moscow?" he asked. + +And receiving the reply that there were more than two hundred +churches, he remarked: + +"Why such a quantity of churches?" + +"The Russians are very devout," replied Balashev. + +"But a large number of monasteries and churches is always a sign +of the backwardness of a people," said Napoleon, turning to +Caulaincourt for appreciation of this remark. + +Balashev respectfully ventured to disagree with the French Emperor. + +"Every country has its own character," said he. + +"But nowhere in Europe is there anything like that," said Napoleon. + +"I beg your Majesty's pardon," returned Balashev, "besides Russia +there is Spain, where there are also many churches and monasteries." + +This reply of Balashev's, which hinted at the recent defeats of +the French in Spain, was much appreciated when he related it at +Alexander's court, but it was not much appreciated at Napoleon's +dinner, where it passed unnoticed. + +The uninterested and perplexed faces of the marshals showed that +they were puzzled as to what Balashev's tone suggested. "If there is a +point we don't see it, or it is not at all witty," their expressions +seemed to say. So little was his rejoinder appreciated that Napoleon +did not notice it at all and naively asked Balashev through what towns +the direct road from there to Moscow passed. Balashev, who was on +the alert all through the dinner, replied that just as "all roads lead +to Rome," so all roads lead to Moscow: there were many roads, and +"among them the road through Poltava, which Charles XII chose." +Balashev involuntarily flushed with pleasure at the aptitude of this +reply, but hardly had he uttered the word Poltava before +Caulaincourt began speaking of the badness of the road from Petersburg +to Moscow and of his Petersburg reminiscences. + +After dinner they went to drink coffee in Napoleon's study, which +four days previously had been that of the Emperor Alexander. +Napoleon sat down, toying with his Sevres coffee cup, and motioned +Balashev to a chair beside him. + +Napoleon was in that well-known after-dinner mood which, more than +any reasoned cause, makes a man contented with himself and disposed to +consider everyone his friend. It seemed to him that he was +surrounded by men who adored him: and he felt convinced that, after +his dinner, Balashev too was his friend and worshiper. Napoleon turned +to him with a pleasant, though slightly ironic, smile. + +"They tell me this is the room the Emperor Alexander occupied? +Strange, isn't it, General?" he said, evidently not doubting that this +remark would be agreeable to his hearer since it went to prove his, +Napoleon's, superiority to Alexander. + +Balashev made no reply and bowed and bowed his head in silence. + +"Yes. Four days ago in this room, Wintzingerode and Stein were +deliberating," continued Napoleon with the same derisive and +self-confident smile. "What I can't understand," he went on, "is +that the Emperor Alexander has surrounded himself with my personal +enemies. That I do not... understand. Has he not thought that I may +the same?" and he turned inquiringly to Balashev, and evidently this +thought turned him back on to the track of his morning's anger, +which was still fresh in him. + +"And let him know that I will do so!" said Napoleon, rising and +pushing his cup away with his hand. "I'll drive all his Wurttemberg, +Baden, and Weimar relations out of Germany.... Yes. I'll drive them +out. Let him prepare an asylum for them in Russia!" + +Balashev bowed his head with an air indicating that he would like to +make his bow and leave, and only listened because he could not help +hearing what was said to him. Napoleon did not notice this expression; +he treated Balashev not as an envoy from his enemy, but as a man now +fully devoted to him and who must rejoice at his former master's +humiliation. + +"And why has the Emperor Alexander taken command of the armies? What +is the good of that? War is my profession, but his business is to +reign and not to command armies! Why has he taken on himself such a +responsibility?" + +Again Napoleon brought out his snuffbox, paced several times up +and down the room in silence, and then, suddenly and unexpectedly, +went up to Balashev and with a slight smile, as confidently, +quickly, and simply as if he were doing something not merely +important but pleasing to Balashev, he raised his hand to the +forty-year-old Russian general's face and, taking him by the ear, +pulled it gently, smiling with his lips only. + +To have one's ear pulled by the Emperor was considered the +greatest honor and mark of favor at the French court. + +"Well, adorer and courtier of the Emperor Alexander, why don't you +say anything?" said he, as if it was ridiculous, in his presence, to +be the adorer and courtier of anyone but himself, Napoleon. "Are the +horses ready for the general?" he added, with a slight inclination +of his head in reply to Balashev's bow. "Let him have mine, he has a +long way to go!" + +The letter taken by Balashev was the last Napoleon sent to +Alexander. Every detail of the interview was communicated to the +Russian monarch, and the war began... + +CHAPTER VIII + +After his interview with Pierre in Moscow, Prince Andrew went to +Petersburg, on business as he told his family, but really to meet +Anatole Kuragin whom he felt it necessary to encounter. On reaching +Petersburg he inquired for Kuragin but the latter had already left the +city. Pierre had warned his brother-in-law that Prince Andrew was on +his track. Anatole Kuragin promptly obtained an appointment from the +Minister of War and went to join the army in Moldavia. While in +Petersburg Prince Andrew met Kutuzov, his former commander who was +always well disposed toward him, and Kutuzov suggested that he +should accompany him to the army in Moldavia, to which the old general +had been appointed commander in chief. So Prince Andrew, having +received an appointment on the headquarters staff, left for Turkey. + +Prince Andrew did not think it proper to write and challenge +Kuragin. He thought that if he challenged him without some fresh cause +it might compromise the young Countess Rostova and so he wanted to +meet Kuragin personally in order to find a fresh pretext for a duel. +But he again failed to meet Kuragin in Turkey, for soon after Prince +Andrew arrived, the latter returned to Russia. In a new country, +amid new conditions, Prince Andrew found life easier to bear. After +his betrothed had broken faith with him- which he felt the more +acutely the more he tried to conceal its effects- the surroundings +in which he had been happy became trying to him, and the freedom and +independence he had once prized so highly were still more so. Not only +could he no longer think the thoughts that had first come to him as he +lay gazing at the sky on the field of Austerlitz and had later +enlarged upon with Pierre, and which had filled his solitude at +Bogucharovo and then in Switzerland and Rome, but he even dreaded to +recall them and them and the bright and boundless horizons they had +revealed. He was now concerned only with the nearest practical matters +unrelated to his past interests, and he seized on these the more +eagerly the more those past interests were closed to him. It was as if +that lofty, infinite canopy of heaven that had once towered above +him had suddenly turned into a low, solid vault that weighed him down, +in which all was clear, but nothing eternal or mysterious. + +Of the activities that presented themselves to him, army service was +the simplest and most familiar. As a general on duty on Kutuzov's +staff, he applied himself to business with zeal and perseverance and +surprised Kutuzov by his willingness and accuracy in work. Not +having found Kuragin in Turkey, Prince Andrew did not think it +necessary to rush back to Russia after him, but all the same he knew +that however long it might be before he met Kuragin, despite his +contempt for him and despite all the proofs he deduced to convince +himself that it was not worth stooping to a conflict with him- he knew +that when he did meet him he would not be able to resist calling him +out, any more than a ravenous man can help snatching at food. And +the consciousness that the insult was not yet avenged, that his rancor +was still unspent, weighed on his heart and poisoned the artificial +tranquillity which he managed to obtain in Turkey by means of +restless, plodding, and rather vainglorious and ambitious activity. + +In the year 1812, when news of the war with Napoleon reached +Bucharest- where Kutuzov had been living for two months, passing his +days and nights with a Wallachian woman- Prince Andrew asked Kutuzov +to transfer him to the Western Army. Kutuzov, who was already weary of +Bolkonski's activity which seemed to reproach his own idleness, very +readily let him go and gave him a mission to Barclay de Tolly. + +Before joining the Western Army which was then, in May, encamped +at Drissa, Prince Andrew visited Bald Hills which was directly on +his way, being only two miles off the Smolensk highroad. During the +last three years there had been so many changes in his life, he had +thought, felt, and seen so much (having traveled both in the east +and the west), that on reaching Bald Hills it struck him as strange +and unexpected to find the way of life there unchanged and still the +same in every detail. He entered through the gates with their stone +pillars and drove up the avenue leading to the house as if he were +entering an enchanted, sleeping castle. The same old stateliness, +the same cleanliness, the same stillness reigned there, and inside +there was the same furniture, the same walls, sounds, and smell, and +the same timid faces, only somewhat older. Princess Mary was still the +same timid, plain maiden getting on in years, uselessly and +joylessly passing the best years of her life in fear and constant +suffering. Mademoiselle Bourienne was the same coquettish, +self-satisfied girl, enjoying every moment of her existence and full +of joyous hopes for the future. She had merely become more +self-confident, Prince Andrew thought. Dessalles, the tutor he had +brought from Switzerland, was wearing a coat of Russian cut and +talking broken Russian to the servants, but was still the same +narrowly intelligent, conscientious, and pedantic preceptor. The old +prince had changed in appearance only by the loss of a tooth, which +left a noticeable gap on one side of his mouth; in character he was +the same as ever, only showing still more irritability and +skepticism as to what was happening in the world. Little Nicholas +alone had changed. He had grown, become rosier, had curly dark hair, +and, when merry and laughing, quite unconsciously lifted the upper lip +of his pretty little mouth just as the little princess used to do. +He alone did not obey the law of immutability in the enchanted, +sleeping castle. But though externally all remained as of old, the +inner relations of all these people had changed since Prince Andrew +had seen them last. The household was divided into two alien and +hostile camps, who changed their habits for his sake and only met +because he was there. To the one camp belonged the old prince, +Madmoiselle Bourienne, and the architect; to the other Princess +Mary, Dessalles, little Nicholas, and all the old nurses and maids. + +During his stay at Bald Hills all the family dined together, but +they were ill at ease and Prince Andrew felt that he was a visitor for +whose sake an exception was being made and that his presence made them +all feel awkward. Involuntarily feeling this at dinner on the first +day, he was taciturn, and the old prince noticing this also became +morosely dumb and retired to his apartments directly after dinner. +In the evening, when Prince Andrew went to him and, trying to rouse +him, began to tell him of the young Count Kamensky's campaign, the old +prince began unexpectedly to talk about Princess Mary, blaming her for +her superstitions and her dislike of Mademoiselle Bourienne, who, he +said, was the only person really attached to him. + +The old prince said that if he was ill it was only because of +Princess Mary: that she purposely worried and irritated him, and +that by indulgence and silly talk she was spoiling little Prince +Nicholas. The old prince knew very well that he tormented his daughter +and that her life was very hard, but he also knew that he could not +help tormenting her and that she deserved it. "Why does Prince Andrew, +who sees this, say nothing to me about his sister? Does he think me +a scoundrel, or an old fool who, without any reason, keeps his own +daughter at a distance and attaches this Frenchwoman to himself? He +doesn't understand, so I must explain it, and he must hear me out," +thought the old prince. And he began explaining why he could not put +up with his daughter's unreasonable character. + +"If you ask me," said Prince Andrew, without looking up (he was +censuring his father for the first time in his life), "I did not +wish to speak about it, but as you ask me I will give you my frank +opinion. If there is any misunderstanding and discord between you +and Mary, I can't blame her for it at all. I know how she loves and +respects you. Since you ask me," continued Prince Andrew, becoming +irritable- as he was always liable to do of late- "I can only say that +if there are any misunderstandings they are caused by that worthless +woman, who is not fit to be my sister's companion." + +The old man at first stared fixedly at his son, and an unnatural +smile disclosed the fresh gap between his teeth to which Prince Andrew +could not get accustomed. + +"What companion, my dear boy? Eh? You've already been talking it +over! Eh?" + +"Father, I did not want to judge," said Prince Andrew, in a hard and +bitter tone, "but you challenged me, and I have said, and always shall +say, that Mary is not to blame, but those to blame- the one to +blame- is that Frenchwoman." + +"Ah, he has passed judgment... passed judgement!" said the old man +in a low voice and, as it seemed to Prince Andrew, with some +embarrassment, but then he suddenly jumped up and cried: "Be off, be +off! Let not a trace of you remain here!..." + +Prince Andrew wished to leave at once, but Princess Mary persuaded +him to stay another day. That day he did not see his father, who did +not leave his room and admitted no one but Mademoiselle Bourienne +and Tikhon, but asked several times whether his son had gone. Next +day, before leaving, Prince Andrew went to his son's rooms. The boy, +curly-headed like his mother and glowing with health, sat on his knee, +and Prince Andrew began telling him the story of Bluebeard, but fell +into a reverie without finishing the story. He thought not of this +pretty child, his son whom he held on his knee, but of himself. He +sought in himself either remorse for having angered his father or +regret at leaving home for the first time in his life on bad terms +with him, and was horrified to find neither. What meant still more +to him was that he sought and did not find in himself the former +tenderness for his son which he had hoped to reawaken by caressing the +boy and taking him on his knee. + +"Well, go on!" said his son. + +Prince Andrew, without replying, put him down from his knee and went +out of the room. + +As soon as Prince Andrew had given up his daily occupations, and +especially on returning to the old conditions of life amid which he +had been happy, weariness of life overcame him with its former +intensity, and he hastened to escape from these memories and to find +some work as soon as possible. + +"So you've decided to go, Andrew?" asked his sister. + +"Thank God that I can," replied Prince Andrew. "I am very sorry +you can't." + +"Why do you say that?" replied Princess Mary. "Why do you say +that, when you are going to this terrible war, and he is so old? +Mademoiselle Bourienne says he has been asking about you...." + +As soon as she began to speak of that, her lips trembled and her +tears began to fall. Prince Andrew turned away and began pacing the +room. + +"Ah, my God! my God! When one thinks who and what- what trash- can +cause people misery!" he said with a malignity that alarmed Princess +Mary. + +She understood that when speaking of "trash" he referred not only to +Mademoiselle Bourienne, the cause of her misery, but also to the man +who had ruined his own happiness. + +"Andrew! One thing I beg, I entreat of you!" she said, touching +his elbow and looking at him with eyes that shone through her tears. +"I understand you" (she looked down). "Don't imagine that sorrow is +the work of men. Men are His tools." She looked a little above +Prince Andrew's head with the confident, accustomed look with which +one looks at the place where a familiar portrait hangs. "Sorrow is +sent by Him, not by men. Men are His instruments, they are not to +blame. If you think someone has wronged you, forget it and forgive! We +have no right to punish. And then you will know the happiness of +forgiving." + +"If I were a woman I would do so, Mary. That is a woman's virtue. +But a man should not and cannot forgive and forget," he replied, and +though till that moment he had not been thinking of Kuragin, all his +unexpended anger suddenly swelled up in his heart. + +"If Mary is already persuading me forgive, it means that I ought +long ago to have punished him," he thought. And giving her no +further reply, he began thinking of the glad vindictive moment when he +would meet Kuragin who he knew was now in the army. + +Princess Mary begged him to stay one day more, saying that she +knew how unhappy her father would be if Andrew left without being +reconciled to him, but Prince Andrew replied that he would probably +soon be back again from the army and would certainly write to his +father, but that the longer he stayed now the more embittered their +differences would become. + +"Good-by, Andrew! Remember that misfortunes come from God, and men +are never to blame," were the last words he heard from his sister when +he took leave of her. + +"Then it must be so!" thought Prince Andrew as he drove out of the +avenue from the house at Bald Hills. "She, poor innocent creature, +is left to be victimized by an old man who has outlived his wits. +The old man feels he is guilty, but cannot change himself. My boy is +growing up and rejoices in life, in which like everybody else he +will deceive or be deceived. And I am off to the army. Why? I myself +don't know. I want to meet that man whom I despise, so as to give +him a chance to kill and laugh at me! + +These conditions of life had been the same before, but then they +were all connected, while now they had all tumbled to pieces. Only +senseless things, lacking coherence, presented themselves one after +another to Prince Andrew's mind. + +CHAPTER IX + +Prince Andrew reached the general headquarters of the army at the +end of June. The first army, with which was the Emperor, occupied +the fortified camp at Drissa; the second army was retreating, trying +to effect a junction with the first one from which it was said to be +cut off by large French forces. Everyone was dissatisfied with the +general course of affairs in the Russian army, but no one +anticipated any danger of invasion of the Russian provinces, and no +one thought the war would extend farther than the western, the Polish, +provinces. + +Prince Andrew found Barclay de Tolly, to whom he had been +assigned, on the bank of the Drissa. As there was not a single town or +large village in the vicinity of the camp, the immense number of +generals and courtiers accompanying the army were living in the best +houses of the villages on both sides of the river, over a radius of +six miles. Barclay de Tolly was quartered nearly three miles from +the Emperor. He received Bolkonski stiffly and coldly and told him +in his foreign accent that he would mention him to the Emperor for a +decision as to his employment, but asked him meanwhile to remain on +his staff. Anatole Kuragin, whom Prince Andrew had hoped to find +with the army, was not there. He had gone to Petersburg, but Prince +Andrew was glad to hear this. His mind was occupied by the interests +of the center that was conducting a gigantic war, and he was glad to +be free for a while from the distraction caused by the thought of +Kuragin. During the first four days, while no duties were required +of him, Prince Andrew rode round the whole fortified camp and, by +the aid of his own knowledge and by talks with experts, tried to +form a definite opinion about it. But the question whether the camp +was advantageous or disadvantageous remained for him undecided. +Already from his military experience and what he had seen in the +Austrian campaign, he had come to the conclusion that in war the +most deeply considered plans have no significance and that all depends +on the way unexpected movements of the enemy- that cannot be foreseen- +are met, and on how and by whom the whole matter is handled. To +clear up this last point for himself, Prince Andrew, utilizing his +position and acquaintances, tried to fathom the character of the +control of the army and of the men and parties engaged in it, and he +deduced for himself the following of the state of affairs. + +While the Emperor had still been at Vilna, the forces had been +divided into three armies. First, the army under Barclay de Tolly, +secondly, the army under Bagration, and thirdly, the one commanded +by Tormasov. The Emperor was with the first army, but not as commander +in chief. In the orders issued it was stated, not that the Emperor +would take command, but only that he would be with the army. The +Emperor, moreover, had with him not a commander in chief's staff but +the imperial headquarters staff. In attendance on him was the head +of the imperial staff, Quartermaster General Prince Volkonski, as well +as generals, imperial aides-de-camp, diplomatic officials, and a large +number of foreigners, but not the army staff. Besides these, there +were in attendance on the Emperor without any definite appointments: +Arakcheev, the ex-Minister of War; Count Bennigsen, the senior general +in rank; the Grand Duke Tsarevich Constantine Pavlovich; Count +Rumyantsev, the Chancellor; Stein, a former Prussian minister; +Armfeldt, a Swedish general; Pfuel, the chief author of the plan of +campaign; Paulucci, an adjutant general and Sardinian emigre; +Wolzogen- and many others. Though these men had no military +appointment in the army, their position gave them influence, and often +a corps commander, or even the commander in chief, did not know in +what capacity he was questioned by Bennigsen, the Grand Duke, +Arakcheev, or Prince Volkonski, or was given this or that advice and +did not know whether a certain order received in the form of advice +emanated from the man who gave it or from the Emperor and whether it +had to be executed or not. But this was only the external condition; +the essential significance of the presence of the Emperor and of all +these people, from a courtier's point of view (and in an Emperor's +vicinity all became courtiers), was clear to everyone. It was this: +the Emperor did not assume the title of commander in chief, but +disposed of all the armies; the men around him were his assistants. +Arakcheev was a faithful custodian to enforce order and acted as the +sovereign's bodyguard. Bennigsen was a landlord in the Vilna +province who appeared to be doing the honors of the district, but +was in reality a good general, useful as an adviser and ready at +hand to replace Barclay. The Grand Duke was there because it suited +him to be. The ex-Minister Stein was there because his advice was +useful and the Emperor Alexander held him in high esteem personally. +Armfeldt virulently hated Napoleon and was a general full of +self-confidence, a quality that always influenced Alexander. +Paulucci was there because he was bold and decided in speech. The +adjutants general were there because they always accompanied the +Emperor, and lastly and chiefly Pfuel was there because he had drawn +up the plan of campaign against Napoleon and, having induced Alexander +to believe in the efficacy of that plan, was directing the whole +business of the war. With Pfuel was Wolzogen, who expressed Pfuel's +thoughts in a more comprehensible way than Pfuel himself (who was a +harsh, bookish theorist, self-confident to the point of despising +everyone else) was able to do. + +Besides these Russians and foreigners who propounded new and +unexpected ideas every day- especially the foreigners, who did so with +a boldness characteristic of people employed in a country not their +own- there were many secondary personages accompanying the army +because their principals were there. + +Among the opinions and voices in this immense, restless, +brilliant, and proud sphere, Prince Andrew noticed the following +sharply defined subdivisions of and parties: + +The first party consisted of Pfuel and his adherents- military +theorists who believed in a science of war with immutable laws- laws +of oblique movements, outflankings, and so forth. Pfuel and his +adherents demanded a retirement into the depths of the country in +accordance with precise laws defined by a pseudo-theory of war, and +they saw only barbarism, ignorance, or evil intention in every +deviation from that theory. To this party belonged the foreign nobles, +Wolzogen, Wintzingerode, and others, chiefly Germans. + +The second party was directly opposed to the first; one extreme, +as always happens, was met by representatives of the other. The +members of this party were those who had demanded an advance from +Vilna into Poland and freedom from all prearranged plans. Besides +being advocates of bold action, this section also represented +nationalism, which made them still more one-sided in the dispute. They +were Russians: Bagration, Ermolov (who was beginning to come to the +front), and others. At that time a famous joke of Ermolov's was +being circulated, that as a great favor he had petitioned the +Emperor to make him a German. The men of that party, remembering +Suvorov, said that what one had to do was not to reason, or stick pins +into maps, but to fight, beat the enemy, keep him out of Russia, and +not let the army get discouraged. + +To the third party- in which the Emperor had most confidence- +belonged the courtiers who tried to arrange compromises between the +other two. The members of this party, chiefly civilians and to whom +Arakcheev belonged, thought and said what men who have no +convictions but wish to seem to have some generally say. They said +that undoubtedly war, particularly against such a genius as +Bonaparte (they called him Bonaparte now), needs most deeply devised +plans and profound scientific knowledge and in that respect Pfuel +was a genius, but at the same time it had to be acknowledged that +the theorists are often one sided, and therefore one should not +trust them absolutely, but should also listen to what Pfuel's +opponents and practical men of experience in warfare had to say, and +then choose a middle course. They insisted on the retention of the +camp at Drissa, according to Pfuel's plan, but on changing the +movements of the other armies. Though, by this course, neither one aim +nor the other could be attained, yet it seemed best to the adherents +of this third party. + +Of a fourth opinion the most conspicuous representative was the +Tsarevich, who could not forget his disillusionment at Austerlitz, +where he had ridden out at the head of the Guards, in his casque and +cavalry uniform as to a review, expecting to crush the French +gallantly; but unexpectedly finding himself in the front line had +narrowly escaped amid the general confusion. The men of this party had +both the quality and the defect of frankness in their opinions. They +feared Napoleon, recognized his strength and their own weakness, and +frankly said so. They said: "Nothing but sorrow, shame, and ruin +will come of all this! We have abandoned Vilna and Vitebsk and shall +abandon Drissa. The only reasonable thing left to do is to conclude +peace as soon as possible, before we are turned out of Petersburg." + +This view was very general in the upper army circles and found +support also in Petersburg and from the chancellor, Rumyantsev, who, +for other reasons of state, was in favor of peace. + +The fifth party consisted of those who were adherents of Barclay +de Tolly, not so much as a man but as minister of war and commander in +chief. "Be he what he may" (they always began like that), "he is an +honest, practical man and we have nobody better. Give him real +power, for war cannot be conducted successfully without unity of +command, and he will show what he can do, as he did in Finland. If our +army is well organized and strong and has withdrawn to Drissa +without suffering any defeats, we owe this entirely to Barclay. If +Barclay is now to be superseded by Bennigsen all will be lost, for +Bennigsen showed his incapacity already in 1807." + +The sixth party, the Bennigsenites, said, on the contrary, that at +any rate there was no one more active and experienced than +Bennigsen: "and twist about as you may, you will have to come to +Bennigsen eventually. Let the others make mistakes now!" said they, +arguing that our retirement to Drissa was a most shameful reverse +and an unbroken series of blunders. "The more mistakes that are made +the better. It will at any rate be understood all the sooner that +things cannot go on like this. What is wanted is not some Barclay or +other, but a man like Bennigsen, who made his mark in 1807, and to +whom Napoleon himself did justice- a man whose authority would be +willingly recognized, and Bennigsen is the only such man." + +The seventh party consisted of the sort of people who are always +to be found, especially around young sovereigns, and of whom there +were particularly many round Alexander- generals and imperial +aides-de-camp passionately devoted to the Emperor, not merely as a +monarch but as a man, adoring him sincerely and disinterestedly, as +Rostov had done in 1805, and who saw in him not only all the virtues +but all human capabilities as well. These men, though enchanted with +the sovereign for refusing the command of the army, yet blamed him for +such excessive modesty, and only desired and insisted that their +adored sovereign should abandon his diffidence and openly announce +that he would place himself at the head of the army, gather round +him a commander in chief's staff, and, consulting experienced +theoreticians and practical men where necessary, would himself lead +the troops, whose spirits would thereby be raised to the highest +pitch. + +The eighth and largest group, which in its enormous numbers was to +the others as ninety-nine to one, consisted of men who desired neither +peace nor war, neither an advance nor a defensive camp at the Drissa +or anywhere else, neither Barclay nor the Emperor, neither Pfuel nor +Bennigsen, but only the one most essential thing- as much advantage +and pleasure for themselves as possible. In the troubled waters of +conflicting and intersecting intrigues that eddied about the Emperor's +headquarters, it was possible to succeed in many ways unthinkable at +other times. A man who simply wished to retain his lucrative post +would today agree with Pfuel, tomorrow with his opponent, and the +day after, merely to avoid responsibility or to please the Emperor, +would declare that he had no opinion at all on the matter. Another who +wished to gain some advantage would attract the Emperor's attention by +loudly advocating the very thing the Emperor had hinted at the day +before, and would dispute and shout at the council, beating his breast +and challenging those who did not agree with him to duels, thereby +proving that he was prepared to sacrifice himself for the common good. +A third, in the absence of opponents, between two councils would +simply solicit a special gratuity for his faithful services, well +knowing that at that moment people would be too busy to refuse him. +A fourth while seemingly overwhelmed with work would often come +accidentally under the Emperor's eye. A fifth, to achieve his +long-cherished aim of dining with the Emperor, would stubbornly insist +on the correctness or falsity of some newly emerging opinion and for +this object would produce arguments more or less forcible and correct. + +All the men of this party were fishing for rubles, decorations, +and promotions, and in this pursuit watched only the weathercock of +imperial favor, and directly they noticed it turning in any direction, +this whole drone population of the army began blowing hard that way, +so that it was all the harder for the Emperor to turn it elsewhere. +Amid the uncertainties of the position, with the menace of serious +danger giving a peculiarly threatening character to everything, amid +this vortex of intrigue, egotism, conflict of views and feelings, +and the diversity of race among these people- this eighth and +largest party of those preoccupied with personal interests imparted +great confusion and obscurity to the common task. Whatever question +arose, a swarm of these drones, without having finished their +buzzing on a previous theme, flew over to the new one and by their hum +drowned and obscured the voices of those who were disputing honestly. + +From among all these parties, just at the time Prince Andrew reached +the army, another, a ninth party, was being formed and was beginning +to raise its voice. This was the party of the elders, reasonable men +experienced and capable in state affairs, who, without sharing any +of those conflicting opinions, were able to take a detached view of +what was going on at the staff at headquarters and to consider means +of escape from this muddle, indecision, intricacy, and weakness. + +The men of this party said and thought that what was wrong +resulted chiefly from the Emperor's presence in the army with his +military court and from the consequent presence there of an +indefinite, conditional, and unsteady fluctuation of relations, +which is in place at court but harmful in an army; that a sovereign +should reign but not command the army, and that the only way out of +the position would be for the Emperor and his court to leave the army; +that the mere presence of the Emperor paralyzed the action of fifty +thousand men required to secure his personal safety, and that the +worst commander in chief if independent would be better than the +very best one trammeled by the presence and authority of the monarch. + +Just at the time Prince Andrew was living unoccupied at Drissa, +Shishkov, the Secretary of State and one of the chief +representatives of this party, wrote a letter to the Emperor which +Arakcheev and Balashev agreed to sign. In this letter, availing +himself of permission given him by the Emperor to discuss the +general course of affairs, he respectfully suggested- on the plea that +it was necessary for the sovereign to arouse a warlike spirit in the +people of the capital- that the Emperor should leave the army. + +That arousing of the people by their sovereign and his call to +them to defend their country- the very incitement which was the +chief cause of Russia's triumph in so far as it was produced by the +Tsar's personal presence in Moscow- was suggested to the Emperor, +and accepted by him, as a pretext for quitting the army. + +CHAPTER X + +This letter had not yet been presented to the Emperor when +Barclay, one day at dinner, informed Bolkonski that the sovereign +wished to see him personally, to question him about Turkey, and that +Prince Andrew was to present himself at Bennigsen's quarters at six +that evening. + +News was received at the Emperor's quarters that very day of a fresh +movement by Napoleon which might endanger the army- news +subsequently found to be false. And that morning Colonel Michaud had +ridden round the Drissa fortifications with the Emperor and had +pointed out to him that this fortified camp constructed by Pfuel, +and till then considered a chef-d'oeuvre of tactical science which +would ensure Napoleon's destruction, was an absurdity, threatening the +destruction of the Russian army. + +Prince Andrew arrived at Bennigsen's quarters- a country gentleman's +house of moderate size, situated on the very banks of the river. +Neither Bennigsen nor the Emperor was there, but Chernyshev, the +Emperor's aide-de-camp, received Bolkonski and informed him that the +Emperor, accompanied by General Bennigsen and Marquis Paulucci, had +gone a second time that day to inspect the fortifications of the +Drissa camp, of the suitability of which serious doubts were beginning +to be felt. + +Chernyshev was sitting at a window in the first room with a French +novel in his hand. This room had probably been a music room; there was +still an organ in it on which some rugs were piled, and in one +corner stood the folding bedstead of Bennigsen's adjutant. This +adjutant was also there and sat dozing on the rolled-up bedding, +evidently exhausted by work or by feasting. Two doors led from the +room, one straight on into what had been the drawing room, and +another, on the right, to the study. Through the first door came the +sound of voices conversing in German and occasionally in French. In +that drawing room were gathered, by the Emperor's wish, not a military +council (the Emperor preferred indefiniteness), but certain persons +whose opinions he wished to know in view of the impending +difficulties. It was not a council of war, but, as it were, a +council to elucidate certain questions for the Emperor personally. +To this semicouncil had been invited the Swedish General Armfeldt, +Adjutant General Wolzogen, Wintzingerode (whom Napoleon had referred +to as a renegade French subject), Michaud, Toll, Count Stein who was +not a military man at all, and Pfuel himself, who, as Prince Andrew +had heard, was the mainspring of the whole affair. Prince Andrew had +an opportunity of getting a good look at him, for Pfuel arrived soon +after himself and, in passing through to the drawing room, stopped a +minute to speak to Chernyshev. + +At first sight, Pfuel, in his ill-made uniform of a Russian general, +which fitted him badly like a fancy costume, seemed familiar to Prince +Andrew, though he saw him now for the first time. There was about +him something of Weyrother, Mack, and Schmidt, and many other German +theorist-generals whom Prince Andrew had seen in 1805, but he was more +typical than any of them. Prince Andrew had never yet seen a German +theorist in whom all the characteristics of those others were united +to such an extent. + +Pfuel was short and very thin but broad-boned, of coarse, robust +build, broad in the hips, and with prominent shoulder blades. His face +was much wrinkled and his eyes deep set. His hair had evidently been +hastily brushed smooth in front of the temples, but stuck up behind in +quaint little tufts. He entered the room, looking restlessly and +angrily around, as if afraid of everything in that large apartment. +Awkwardly holding up his sword, he addressed Chernyshev and asked in +German where the Emperor was. One could see that he wished to pass +through the rooms as quickly as possible, finish with the bows and +greetings, and sit down to business in front of a map, where he +would feel at home. He nodded hurriedly in reply to Chernyshev, and +smiled ironically on hearing that the sovereign was inspecting the +fortifications that he, Pfuel, had planned in accord with his +theory. He muttered something to himself abruptly and in a bass voice, +as self-assured Germans do- it might have been "stupid fellow"... or +"the whole affair will be ruined," or "something absurd will come of +it."... Prince Andrew did not catch what he said and would have passed +on, but Chernyshev introduced him to Pfuel, remarking that Prince +Andrew was just back from Turkey where the war had terminated so +fortunately. Pfuel barely glanced- not so much at Prince Andrew as +past him- and said, with a laugh: "That must have been a fine tactical +war"; and, laughing contemptuously, went on into the room from which +the sound of voices was heard. + +Pfuel, always inclined to be irritably sarcastic, was particularly +disturbed that day, evidently by the fact that they had dared to +inspect and criticize his camp in his absence. From this short +interview with Pfuel, Prince Andrew, thanks to his Austerlitz +experiences, was able to form a clear conception of the man. Pfuel was +one of those hopelessly and immutably self-confident men, +self-confident to the point of martyrdom as only Germans are, +because only Germans are self-confident on the basis of an abstract +notion- science, that is, the supposed knowledge of absolute truth. +A Frenchman is self-assured because he regards himself personally, +both in mind and body, as irresistibly attractive to men and women. An +Englishman is self-assured, as being a citizen of the best-organized +state in the world, and therefore as an Englishman always knows what +he should do and knows that all he does as an Englishman is +undoubtedly correct. An Italian is self-assured because he is +excitable and easily forgets himself and other people. A Russian is +self-assured just because he knows nothing does not want to know +anything, since he does not believe that anything can be known. The +German's self-assurance is worst of all, stronger and more repulsive +than any other, because he imagines that he knows the truth- +science- which he himself has invented but which is for him the +absolute truth. + +Pfuel was evidently of that sort. He had a science- the theory of +oblique movements deduced by him from the history of Frederick the +Great's wars, and all he came across in the history of more recent +warfare seemed to him absurd and barbarous- monstrous collisions in +which so many blunders were committed by both sides that these wars +could not be called wars, they did not accord with the theory, and +therefore could not serve as material for science. + +In 1806 Pfuel had been one of those responsible, for the plan of +campaign that ended in Jena and Auerstadt, but he did not see the +least proof of the fallibility of his theory in the disasters of +that war. On the contrary, the deviations made from his theory were, +in his opinion, the sole cause of the whole disaster, and with +characteristically gleeful sarcasm he would remark, "There, I said the +whole affair would go to the devil!" Pfuel was one of those +theoreticians who so love their theory that they lose sight of the +theory's object- its practical application. His love of theory made +him hate everything practical, and he would not listen to it. He was +even pleased by failures, for failures resulting from deviations in +practice from the theory only proved to him the accuracy of his +theory. + +He said a few words to Prince Andrew and Chernyshev about the +present war, with the air of a man who knows beforehand that all +will go wrong, and who is not displeased that it should be so. The +unbrushed tufts of hair sticking up behind and the hastily brushed +hair on his temples expressed this most eloquently. + +He passed into the next room, and the deep, querulous sounds of +his voice were at once heard from there. + +CHAPTER XI + +Prince Andrew's eyes were still following Pfuel out of the room when +Count Bennigsen entered hurriedly, and nodding to Bolkonski, but not +pausing, went into the study, giving instructions to his adjutant as +he went. The Emperor was following him, and Bennigsen had hastened +on to make some preparations and to be ready to receive the sovereign. +Chernyshev and Prince Andrew went out into the porch, where the +Emperor, who looked fatigued, was dismounting. Marquis Paulucci was +talking to him with particular warmth and the Emperor, with his head +bent to the left, was listening with a dissatisfied air. The Emperor +moved forward evidently wishing to end the conversation, but the +flushed and excited Italian, oblivious of decorum, followed him and +continued to speak. + +"And as for the man who advised forming this camp- the Drissa camp," +said Paulucci, as the Emperor mounted the steps and noticing Prince +Andrew scanned his unfamiliar face, "as to that person, sire..." +continued Paulucci, desperately, apparently unable to restrain +himself, "the man who advised the Drissa camp- I see no alternative +but the lunatic asylum or the gallows!" + +Without heeding the end of the Italian's remarks, and as though +not hearing them, the Emperor, recognizing Bolkonski, addressed him +graciously. + +"I am very glad to see you! Go in there where they are meeting, +and wait for me." + +The Emperor went into the study. He was followed by Prince Peter +Mikhaylovich Volkonski and Baron Stein, and the door closed behind +them. Prince Andrew, taking advantage of the Emperor's permission, +accompanied Paulucci, whom he had known in Turkey, into the drawing +room where the council was assembled. + +Prince Peter Mikhaylovich Volkonski occupied the position, as it +were, of chief of the Emperor's staff. He came out of the study into +the drawing room with some maps which he spread on a table, and put +questions on which he wished to hear the opinion of the gentlemen +present. What had happened was that news (which afterwards proved to +be false) had been received during the night of a movement by the +French to outflank the Drissa camp. + +The first to speak was General Armfeldt who, to meet the +difficulty that presented itself, unexpectedly proposed a perfectly +new position away from the Petersburg and Moscow roads. The reason for +this was inexplicable (unless he wished to show that he, too, could +have an opinion), but he urged that at this point the army should +unite and there await the enemy. It was plain that Armfeldt had +thought out that plan long ago and now expounded it not so much to +answer the questions put- which, in fact, his plan did not answer- +as to avail himself of the opportunity to air it. It was one of the +millions of proposals, one as good as another, that could be made as +long as it was quite unknown what character the war would take. Some +disputed his arguments, others defended them. Young Count Toll +objected to the Swedish general's views more warmly than anyone +else, and in the course of the dispute drew from his side pocket a +well-filled notebook, which he asked permission to read to them. In +these voluminous notes Toll suggested another scheme, totally +different from Armfeldt's or Pfuel's plan of campaign. In answer to +Toll, Paulucci suggested an advance and an attack, which, he urged, +could alone extricate us from the present uncertainty and from the +trap (as he called the Drissa camp) in which we were situated. + +During all these discussions Pfuel and his interpreter, Wolzogen +(his "bridge" in court relations), were silent. Pfuel only snorted +contemptuously and turned away, to show that he would never demean +himself by replying to such nonsense as he was now hearing. So when +Prince Volkonski, who was in the chair, called on him to give his +opinion, he merely said: + +"Why ask me? General Armfeldt has proposed a splendid position +with an exposed rear, or why not this Italian gentleman's attack- very +fine, or a retreat, also good! Why ask me?" said he. "Why, you +yourselves know everything better than I do." + +But when Volkonski said, with a frown, that it was in the +Emperor's name that he asked his opinion, Pfuel rose and, suddenly +growing animated, began to speak: + +"Everything has been spoiled, everything muddled, everybody +thought they knew better than I did, and now you come to me! How +mend matters? There is nothing to mend! The principles laid down by me +must be strictly adhered to," said he, drumming on the table with +his bony fingers. "What is the difficulty? Nonsense, childishness!" + +He went up to the map and speaking rapidly began proving that no +eventuality could alter the efficiency of the Drissa camp, that +everything had been foreseen, and that if the enemy were really +going to outflank it, the enemy would inevitably be destroyed. + +Paulucci, who did not know German, began questioning him in +French. Wolzogen came to the assistance of his chief, who spoke French +badly, and began translating for him, hardly able to keep pace with +Pfuel, who was rapidly demonstrating that not only all that had +happened, but all that could happen, had been foreseen in his +scheme, and that if there were now any difficulties the whole fault +lay in the fact that his plan had not been precisely executed. He kept +laughing sarcastically, he demonstrated, and at last contemptuously +ceased to demonstrate, like a mathematician who ceases to prove in +various ways the accuracy of a problem that has already been proved. +Wolzogen took his place and continued to explain his views in +French, every now and then turning to Pfuel and saying, "Is it not so, +your excellency?" But Pfuel, like a man heated in a fight who +strikes those on his own side, shouted angrily at his own supporter, +Wolzogen: + +"Well, of course, what more is there to explain?" + +Paulucci and Michaud both attacked Wolzogen simultaneously in +French. Armfeldt addressed Pfuel in German. Toll explained to +Volkonski in Russian. Prince Andrew listened and observed in silence. + +Of all these men Prince Andrew sympathized most with Pfuel, angry, +determined, and absurdly self-confident as he was. Of all those +present, evidently he alone was not seeking anything for himself, +nursed no hatred against anyone, and only desired that the plan, +formed on a theory arrived at by years of toil, should be carried out. +He was ridiculous, and unpleasantly sarcastic, but yet he inspired +involuntary respect by his boundless devotion to an idea. Besides +this, the remarks of all except Pfuel had one common trait that had +not been noticeable at the council of war in 1805: there was now a +panic fear of Napoleon's genius, which, though concealed, was +noticeable in every rejoinder. Everything was assumed to be possible +for Napoleon, they expected him from every side, and invoked his +terrible name to shatter each other's proposals. Pfuel alone seemed to +consider Napoleon a barbarian like everyone else who opposed his +theory. But besides this feeling of respect, Pfuel evoked pity in +Prince Andrew. From the tone in which the courtiers addressed him +and the way Paulucci had allowed himself to speak of him to the +Emperor, but above all from a certain desperation in Pfuel's own +expressions, it was clear that the others knew, and Pfuel himself +felt, that his fall was at hand. And despite his self-confidence and +grumpy German sarcasm he was pitiable, with his hair smoothly +brushed on the temples and sticking up in tufts behind. Though he +concealed the fact under a show of irritation and contempt, he was +evidently in despair that the sole remaining chance of verifying his +theory by a huge experiment and proving its soundness to the whole +world was slipping away from him. + +The discussions continued a long time, and the longer they lasted +the more heated became the disputes, culminating in shouts and +personalities, and the less was it possible to arrive at any general +conclusion from all that had been said. Prince Andrew, listening to +this polyglot talk and to these surmises, plans, refutations, and +shouts, felt nothing but amazement at what they were saying. A thought +that had long since and often occurred to him during his military +activities- the idea that there is not and cannot be any science of +war, and that therefore there can be no such thing as a military +genius- now appeared to him an obvious truth. "What theory and science +is possible about a matter the conditions and circumstances of which +are unknown and cannot be defined, especially when the strength of the +acting forces cannot be ascertained? No one was or is able to +foresee in what condition our or the enemy's armies will be in a day's +time, and no one can gauge the force of this or that detachment. +Sometimes- when there is not a coward at the front to shout, 'We are +cut off!' and start running, but a brave and jolly lad who shouts, +'Hurrah!'- a detachment of five thousand is worth thirty thousand, +as at Schon Grabern, while at times fifty thousand run from eight +thousand, as at Austerlitz. What science can there be in a matter in +which, as in all practical matters, nothing can be defined and +everything depends on innumerable conditions, the significance of +which is determined at a particular moment which arrives no one +knows when? Armfeldt says our army is cut in half, and Paulucci says +we have got the French army between two fires; Michaud says that the +worthlessness of the Drissa camp lies in having the river behind it, +and Pfuel says that is what constitutes its strength; Toll proposes +one plan, Armfeldt another, and they are all good and all bad, and the +advantages of any suggestions can be seen only at the moment of trial. +And why do they all speak of a 'military genius'? Is a man a genius +who can order bread to be brought up at the right time and say who +is to go to the right and who to the left? It is only because military +men are invested with pomp and power and crowds of sychophants flatter +power, attributing to it qualities of genius it does not possess. +The best generals I have known were, on the contrary, stupid or +absent-minded men. Bagration was the best, Napoleon himself admitted +that. And of Bonaparte himself! I remember his limited, self-satisfied +face on the field of Austerlitz. Not only does a good army commander +not need any special qualities, on the contrary he needs the absence +of the highest and best human attributes- love, poetry, tenderness, +and philosophic inquiring doubt. He should be limited, firmly +convinced that what he is doing is very important (otherwise he will +not have sufficient patience), and only then will he be a brave +leader. God forbid that he should be humane, should love, or pity, +or think of what is just and unjust. It is understandable that a +theory of their 'genius' was invented for them long ago because they +have power! The success of a military action depends not on them, +but on the man in the ranks who shouts, 'We are lost!' or who +shouts, 'Hurrah!' And only in the ranks can one serve with assurance +of being useful." + +So thought Prince Andrew as he listened to the talking, and he +roused himself only when Paulucci called him and everyone was leaving. + +At the review next day the Emperor asked Prince Andrew where he +would like to serve, and Prince Andrew lost his standing in court +circles forever by not asking to remain attached to the sovereign's +person, but for permission to serve in the army. + +CHAPTER XII + +Before the beginning of the campaign, Rostov had received a letter +from his parents in which they told him briefly of Natasha's illness +and the breaking off of her engagement to Prince Andrew (which they +explained by Natasha's having rejected him) and again asked Nicholas +to retire from the army and return home. On receiving this letter, +Nicholas did not even make any attempt to get leave of absence or to +retire from the army, but wrote to his parents that he was sorry +Natasha was ill and her engagement broken off, and that he would do +all he could to meet their wishes. To Sonya he wrote separately. + +"Adored friend of my soul!" he wrote. "Nothing but honor could +keep me from returning to the country. But now, at the commencement of +the campaign, I should feel dishonored, not only in my comrades' +eyes but in my own, if I preferred my own happiness to my love and +duty to the Fatherland. But this shall be our last separation. Believe +me, directly the war is over, if I am still alive and still loved by +you, I will throw up everything and fly to you, to press you forever +to my ardent breast." + +It was, in fact, only the commencement of the campaign that +prevented Rostov from returning home as he had promised and marrying +Sonya. The autumn in Otradnoe with the hunting, and the winter with +the Christmas holidays and Sonya's love, had opened out to him a vista +of tranquil rural joys and peace such as he had never known before, +and which now allured him. "A splendid wife, children, a good pack +of hounds, a dozen leashes of smart borzois, agriculture, neighbors, +service by election..." thought he. But now the campaign was +beginning, and he had to remain with his regiment. And since it had to +be so, Nicholas Rostov, as was natural to him, felt contented with the +life he led in the regiment and was able to find pleasure in that +life. + +On his return from his furlough Nicholas, having been joyfully +welcomed by his comrades, was sent to obtain remounts and brought back +from the Ukraine excellent horses which pleased him and earned him +commendation from his commanders. During his absence he had been +promoted captain, and when the regiment was put on war footing with an +increase in numbers, he was again allotted his old squadron. + +The campaign began, the regiment was moved into Poland on double +pay, new officers arrived, new men and horses, and above all everybody +was infected with the merrily excited mood that goes with the +commencement of a war, and Rostov, conscious of his advantageous +position in the regiment, devoted himself entirely to the pleasures +and interests of military service, though he knew that sooner or later +he would have to relinquish them. + +The troops retired from Vilna for various complicated reasons of +state, political and strategic. Each step of the retreat was +accompanied by a complicated interplay of interests, arguments, and +passions at headquarters. For the Pavlograd hussars, however, the +whole of this retreat during the finest period of summer and with +sufficient supplies was a very simple and agreeable business. + +It was only at headquarters that there was depression, uneasiness, +and intriguing; in the body of the army they did not ask themselves +where they were going or why. If they regretted having to retreat, +it was only because they had to leave billets they had grown +accustomed to, or some pretty young Polish lady. If the thought that +things looked bad chanced to enter anyone's head, he tried to be as +cheerful as befits a good soldier and not to think of the general +trend of affairs, but only of the task nearest to hand. First they +camped gaily before Vilna, making acquaintance with the Polish +landowners, preparing for reviews and being reviewed by the Emperor +and other high commanders. Then came an order to retreat to Sventsyani +and destroy any provisions they could not carry away with them. +Sventsyani was remembered by the hussars only as the drunken camp, a +name the whole army gave to their encampment there, and because many +complaints were made against the troops, who, taking advantage of +the order to collect provisions, took also horses, carriages, and +carpets from the Polish proprietors. Rostov remembered Sventsyani, +because on the first day of their arrival at that small town he +changed his sergeant major and was unable to manage all the drunken +men of his squadron who, unknown to him, had appropriated five barrels +of old beer. From Sventsyani they retired farther and farther to +Drissa, and thence again beyond Drissa, drawing near to the frontier +of Russia proper. + +On the thirteenth of July the Pavlograds took part in a serious +action for the first time. + +On the twelfth of July, on the eve of that action, there was a heavy +storm of rain and hail. In general, the summer of 18l2 was +remarkable for its storms. + +The two Pavlograd squadrons were bivouacking on a field of rye, +which was already in ear but had been completely trodden down by +cattle and horses. The rain was descending in torrents, and Rostov, +with a young officer named Ilyin, his protege, was sitting in a +hastily constructed shelter. An officer of their regiment, with long +mustaches extending onto his cheeks, who after riding to the staff had +been overtaken by the rain, entered Rostov's shelter. + +"I have come from the staff, Count. Have you heard of Raevski's +exploit?" + +And the officer gave them details of the Saltanov battle, which he +had heard at the staff. + +Rostov, smoking his pipe and turning his head about as the water +trickled down his neck, listened inattentively, with an occasional +glance at Ilyin, who was pressing close to him. This officer, a lad of +sixteen who had recently joined the regiment, was now in the same +relation to Nicholas that Nicholas had been to Denisov seven years +before. Ilyin tried to imitate Rostov in everything and adored him +as a girl might have done. + +Zdrzhinski, the officer with the long mustache, spoke +grandiloquently of the Saltanov dam being "a Russian Thermopylae," and +of how a deed worthy of antiquity had been performed by General +Raevski. He recounted how Raevski had led his two sons onto the dam +under terrific fire and had charged with them beside him. Rostov heard +the story and not only said nothing to encourage Zdrzhinski's +enthusiasm but, on the contrary, looked like a man ashamed of what +he was hearing, though with no intention of contradicting it. Since +the campaigns of Austerlitz and of 1807 Rostov knew by experience that +men always lie when describing military exploits, as he himself had +done when recounting them; besides that, he had experience enough to +know that nothing happens in war at all as we can imagine or relate +it. And so he did not like Zdrzhinski's tale, nor did he like +Zdrzhinski himself who, with his mustaches extending over his +cheeks, bent low over the face of his hearer, as was his habit, and +crowded Rostov in the narrow shanty. Rostov looked at him in +silence. "In the first place, there must have been such a confusion +and crowding on the dam that was being attacked that if Raevski did +lead his sons there, it could have had no effect except perhaps on +some dozen men nearest to him," thought he, "the rest could not have +seen how or with whom Raevski came onto the dam. And even those who +did see it would not have been much stimulated by it, for what had +they to do with Raevski's tender paternal feelings when their own +skins were in danger? And besides, the fate of the Fatherland did +not depend on whether they took the Saltanov dam or not, as we are +told was the case at Thermopylae. So why should he have made such a +sacrifice? And why expose his own children in the battle? I would +not have taken my brother Petya there, or even Ilyin, who's a stranger +to me but a nice lad, but would have tried to put them somewhere under +cover," Nicholas continued to think, as he listened to Zdrzhinski. But +he did not express his thoughts, for in such matters, too, he had +gained experience. He knew that this tale redounded to the glory of +our arms and so one had to pretend not to doubt it. And he acted +accordingly. + +"I can't stand this any more," said Ilyin, noticing that Rostov +did not relish Zdrzhinski's conversation. "My stockings and shirt... +and the water is running on my seat! I'll go and look for shelter. The +rain seems less heavy." + +Ilyin went out and Zdrzhinski rode away. + +Five minutes later Ilyin, splashing through the mud, came running +back to the shanty. + +"Hurrah! Rostov, come quick! I've found it! About two hundred +yards away there's a tavern where ours have already gathered. We can +at least get dry there, and Mary Hendrikhovna's there." + +Mary Hendrikhovna was the wife of the regimental doctor, a pretty +young German woman he had married in Poland. The doctor, whether +from lack of means or because he did not like to part from his young +wife in the early days of their marriage, took her about with him +wherever the hussar regiment went and his jealousy had become a +standing joke among the hussar officers. + +Rostov threw his cloak over his shoulders, shouted to Lavrushka to +follow with the things, and- now slipping in the mud, now splashing +right through it- set off with Ilyin in the lessening rain and the +darkness that was occasionally rent by distant lightning. + +"Rostov, where are you?" + +"Here. What lightning!" they called to one another. + +CHAPTER XIII + +In the tavern, before which stood the doctor's covered cart, there +were already some five officers. Mary Hendrikhovna, a plump little +blonde German, in a dressing jacket and nightcap, was sitting on a +broad bench in the front corner. Her husband, the doctor, lay asleep +behind her. Rostov and Ilyin, on entering the room, were welcomed with +merry shouts and laughter. + +"Dear me, how jolly we are!" said Rostov laughing. + +"And why do you stand there gaping?" + +"What swells they are! Why, the water streams from them! Don't +make our drawing room so wet." + +"Don't mess Mary Hendrikhovna's dress!" cried other voices. + +Rostov and Ilyin hastened to find a corner where they could change +into dry clothes without offending Mary Hendrikhovna's modesty. They +were going into a tiny recess behind a partition to change, but +found it completely filled by three officers who sat playing cards +by the light of a solitary candle on an empty box, and these +officers would on no account yield their position. Mary Hendrikhovna +obliged them with the loan of a petticoat to be used as a curtain, and +behind that screen Rostov and Ilyin, helped by Lavrushka who had +brought their kits, changed their wet things for dry ones. + +A fire was made up in the dilapidated brick stove. A board was +found, fixed on two saddles and covered with a horsecloth, a small +samovar was produced and a cellaret and half a bottle of rum, and +having asked Mary Hendrikhovna to preside, they all crowded round her. +One offered her a clean handkerchief to wipe her charming hands, +another spread a jacket under her little feet to keep them from the +damp, another hung his coat over the window to keep out the draft, and +yet another waved the flies off her husband's face, lest he should +wake up. + +"Leave him alone," said Mary Hendrikhovna, smiling timidly and +happily. "He is sleeping well as it is, after a sleepless night." + +"Oh, no, Mary Hendrikhovna," replied the officer, "one must look +after the doctor. Perhaps he'll take pity on me someday, when it comes +to cutting off a leg or an arm for me." + +There were only three tumblers, the water was so muddy that one +could not make out whether the tea was strong or weak, and the samovar +held only six tumblers of water, but this made it all the pleasanter +to take turns in order of seniority to receive one's tumbler from Mary +Hendrikhovna's plump little hands with their short and not overclean +nails. All the officers appeared to be, and really were, in love +with her that evening. Even those playing cards behind the partition +soon left their game and came over to the samovar, yielding to the +general mood of courting Mary Hendrikhovna. She, seeing herself +surrounded by such brilliant and polite young men, beamed with +satisfaction, try as she might to hide it, and perturbed as she +evidently was each time her husband moved in his sleep behind her. + +There was only one spoon, sugar was more plentiful than anything +else, but it took too long to dissolve, so it was decided that Mary +Hendrikhovna should stir the sugar for everyone in turn. Rostov +received his tumbler, and adding some rum to it asked Mary +Hendrikhovna to stir it. + +"But you take it without sugar?" she said, smiling all the time, +as if everything she said and everything the others said was very +amusing and had a double meaning. + +"It is not the sugar I want, but only that your little hand should +stir my tea." + +Mary Hendrikhovna assented and began looking for the spoon which +someone meanwhile had pounced on. + +"Use your finger, Mary Hendrikhovna, it will be still nicer," said +Rostov. + +"Too hot!" she replied, blushing with pleasure. + +Ilyin put a few drops of rum into the bucket of water and brought it +to Mary Hendrikhovna, asking her to stir it with her finger. + +"This is my cup," said he. "Only dip your finger in it and I'll +drink it all up." + +When they had emptied the samovar, Rostov took a pack of cards and +proposed that they should play "Kings" with Mary Hendrikhovna. They +drew lots to settle who should make up her set. At Rostov's suggestion +it was agreed that whoever became "King" should have the right to kiss +Mary Hendrikhovna's hand, and that the "Booby" should go to refill and +reheat the samovar for the doctor when the latter awoke. + +"Well, but supposing Mary Hendrikhovna is 'King'?" asked Ilyin. + +"As it is, she is Queen, and her word is law!" + +They had hardly begun to play before the doctor's disheveled head +suddenly appeared from behind Mary Hendrikhovna. He had been awake for +some time, listening to what was being said, and evidently found +nothing entertaining or amusing in what was going on. His face was sad +and depressed. Without greeting the officers, he scratched himself and +asked to be allowed to pass as they were blocking the way. As soon +as he had left the room all the officers burst into loud laughter +and Mary Hendrikhovna blushed till her eyes filled with tears and +thereby became still more attractive to them. Returning from the yard, +the doctor told his wife (who had ceased to smile so happily, and +looked at him in alarm, awaiting her sentence) that the rain had +ceased and they must go to sleep in their covered cart, or +everything in it would be stolen. + +"But I'll send an orderly.... Two of them!" said Rostov. "What an +idea, doctor!" + +"I'll stand guard on it myself!" said Ilyin. + +"No, gentlemen, you have had your sleep, but I have not slept for +two nights," replied the doctor, and he sat down morosely beside his +wife, waiting for the game to end. + +Seeing his gloomy face as he frowned at his wife, the officers +grew still merrier, and some of them could not refrain from +laughter, for which they hurriedly sought plausible pretexts. When +he had gone, taking his wife with him, and had settled down with her +in their covered cart, the officers lay down in the tavern, covering +themselves with their wet cloaks, but they did not sleep for a long +time; now they exchanged remarks, recalling the doctor's uneasiness +and his wife's delight, now they ran out into the porch and reported +what was taking place in the covered trap. Several times Rostov, +covering his head, tried to go to sleep, but some remark would +arouse him and conversation would be resumed, to the accompaniment +of unreasoning, merry, childlike laughter. + +CHAPTER XIV + +It was nearly three o'clock but no one was yet asleep, when the +quartermaster appeared with an order to move on to the little town +of Ostrovna. Still laughing and talking, the officers began +hurriedly getting ready and again boiled again boiled some muddy water +in the samovar. But Rostov went off to his squadron without waiting +for tea. Day was breaking, the rain had ceased, and the clouds were +dispersing. It felt damp and cold, especially in clothes that were +still moist. As they left the tavern in the twilight of the dawn, +Rostov and Ilyin both glanced under the wet and glistening leather +hood of the doctor's cart, from under the apron of which his feet were +sticking out, and in the middle of which his wife's nightcap was +visible and her sleepy breathing audible. + +"She really is a dear little thing," said Rostov to Ilyin, who was +following him. + +"A charming woman!" said Ilyin, with all the gravity of a boy of +sixteen. + +Half an hour later the squadron was lined up on the road. The +command was heard to "mount" and the soldiers crossed themselves and +mounted. Rostov riding in front gave the order "Forward!" and the +hussars, with clanking sabers and subdued talk, their horses' hoofs +splashing in the mud, defiled in fours and moved along the broad +road planted with birch trees on each side, following the infantry and +a battery that had gone on in front. + +Tattered, blue-purple clouds, reddening in the east, were scudding +before the wind. It was growing lighter and lighter. That curly +grass which always grows by country roadsides became clearly +visible, still wet with the night's rain; the drooping branches of the +birches, also wet, swayed in the wind and flung down bright drops of +water to one side. The soldiers' faces were more and more clearly +visible. Rostov, always closely followed by Ilyin, rode along the side +of the road between two rows of birch trees. + +When campaigning, Rostov allowed himself the indulgence of riding +not a regimental but a Cossack horse. A judge of horses and a +sportsman, he had lately procured himself a large, fine, mettlesome, +Donets horse, dun-colored, with light mane and tail, and when he +rode it no one could outgallop him. To ride this horse was a +pleasure to him, and he thought of the horse, of the morning, of the +doctor's wife, but not once of the impending danger. + +Formerly, when going into action, Rostov had felt afraid; now he had +not the least feeling of fear. He was fearless, not because he had +grown used to being under fire (one cannot grow used to danger), but +because he had learned how to manage his thoughts when in danger. He +had grown accustomed when going into action to think about anything +but what would seem most likely to interest him- the impending danger. +During the first period of his service, hard as he tried and much as +he reproached himself with cowardice, he had not been able to do this, +but with time it had come of itself. Now he rode beside Ilyin under +the birch trees, occasionally plucking leaves from a branch that met +his hand, sometimes touching his horse's side with his foot, or, +without turning round, handing a pipe he had finished to an hussar +riding behind him, with as calm and careless an air as though he +were merely out for a ride. He glanced with pity at the excited face +of Ilyin, who talked much and in great agitation. He knew from +experience the tormenting expectation of terror and death the cornet +was suffering and knew that only time could help him. + +As soon as the sun appeared in a clear strip of sky beneath the +clouds, the wind fell, as if it dared not spoil the beauty of the +summer morning after the storm; drops still continued to fall, but +vertically now, and all was still. The whole sun appeared on the +horizon and disappeared behind a long narrow cloud that hung above it. +A few minutes later it reappeared brighter still from behind the top +of the cloud, tearing its edge. Everything grew bright and +glittered. And with that light, and as if in reply to it, came the +sound of guns ahead of them. + +Before Rostov had had time to consider and determine the distance of +that firing, Count Ostermann-Tolstoy's adjutant came galloping from +Vitebsk with orders to advance at a trot along the road. + +The squadron overtook and passed the infantry and the battery- which +had also quickened their pace- rode down a hill, and passing through +an empty and deserted village again ascended. The horses began to +lather and the men to flush. + +"Halt! Dress your ranks!" the order of the regimental commander +was heard ahead. "Forward by the left. Walk, march!" came the order +from in front. + +And the hussars, passing along the line of troops on the left +flank of our position, halted behind our Uhlans who were in the +front line. To the right stood our infantry in a dense column: they +were the reserve. Higher up the hill, on the very horizon, our guns +were visible through the wonderfully clear air, brightly illuminated +by slanting morning sunbeams. In front, beyond a hollow dale, could be +seen the enemy's columns and guns. Our advanced line, already in +action, could be heard briskly exchanging shots with the enemy in +the dale. + +At these sounds, long unheard, Rostov's spirits rose, as at the +strains of the merriest music. Trap-ta-ta-tap! cracked the shots, +now together, now several quickly one after another. Again all was +silent and then again it sounded as if someone were walking on +detonators and exploding them. + +The hussars remained in the same place for about an hour. A +cannonade began. Count Ostermann with his suite rode up behind the +squadron, halted, spoke to the commander of the regiment, and rode +up the hill to the guns. + +After Ostermann had gone, a command rang out to the Uhlans. + +"Form column! Prepare to charge!" + +The infantry in front of them parted into platoons to allow the +cavalry to pass. The Uhlans started, the streamers on their spears +fluttering, and trotted downhill toward the French cavalry which was +seen below to the left. + +As soon as the Uhlans descended the hill, the hussars were ordered +up the hill to support the battery. As they took the places vacated by +the Uhlans, bullets came from the front, whining and whistling, but +fell spent without taking effect. + +The sounds, which he had not heard for so long, had an even more +pleasurable and exhilarating effect on Rostov than the previous sounds +of firing. Drawing himself up, he viewed the field of battle opening +out before him from the hill, and with his whole soul followed the +movement of the Uhlans. They swooped down close to the French +dragoons, something confused happened there amid the smoke, and five +minutes later our Uhlans were galloping back, not to the place they +had occupied but more to the left, and among the orange-colored Uhlans +on chestnut horses and behind them, in a large group, blue French +dragoons on gray horses could be seen. + +CHAPTER XV + +Rostov, with his keen sportsman's eye, was one of the first to catch +sight of these blue French dragoons pursuing our Uhlans. Nearer and +nearer in disorderly crowds came the Uhlans and the French dragoons +pursuing them. He could already see how these men, who looked so small +at the foot of the hill, jostled and overtook one another, waving +their arms and their sabers in the air. + +Rostov gazed at what was happening before him as at a hunt. He +felt instinctively that if the hussars struck at the French dragoons +now, the latter could not withstand them, but if a charge was to be +made it must be done now, at that very moment, or it would be too +late. He looked around. A captain, standing beside him, was gazing +like himself with eyes fixed on the cavalry below them. + +"Andrew Sevastyanych!" said Rostov. "You know, we could crush +them...." + +"A fine thing too!" replied the captain, "and really..." + +Rostov, without waiting to hear him out, touched his horse, galloped +to the front of his squadron, and before he had time to finish +giving the word of command, the whole squadron, sharing his feeling, +was following him. Rostov himself did not know how or why he did it. +He acted as he did when hunting, without reflecting or considering. He +saw the dragoons near and that they were galloping in disorder; he +knew they could not withstand an attack- knew there was only that +moment and that if he let it slip it would not return. The bullets +were whining and whistling so stimulatingly around him and his horse +was so eager to go that he could not restrain himself. He touched +his horse, gave the word of command, and immediately, hearing behind +him the tramp of the horses of his deployed squadron, rode at full +trot downhill toward the dragoons. Hardly had they reached the +bottom of the hill before their pace instinctively changed to a +gallop, which grew faster and faster as they drew nearer to our Uhlans +and the French dragoons who galloped after them. The dragoons were now +close at hand. On seeing the hussars, the foremost began to turn, +while those behind began to halt. With the same feeling with which +he had galloped across the path of a wolf, Rostov gave rein to his +Donets horse and galloped to intersect the path of the dragoons' +disordered lines. One Uhlan stopped, another who was on foot flung +himself to the ground to avoid being knocked over, and a riderless +horse fell in among the hussars. Nearly all the French dragoons were +galloping back. Rostov, picking out one on a gray horse, dashed +after him. On the way he came upon a bush, his gallant horse cleared +it, and almost before he had righted himself in his saddle he saw that +he would immediately overtake the enemy he had selected. That +Frenchman, by his uniform an officer, was going at a gallop, crouching +on his gray horse and urging it on with his saber. In another moment +Rostov's horse dashed its breast against the hindquarters of the +officer's horse, almost knocking it over, and at the same instant +Rostov, without knowing why, raised his saber and struck the Frenchman +with it. + +The instant he had done this, all Rostov's animation vanished. The +officer fell, not so much from the blow- which had but slightly cut +his arm above the elbow- as from the shock to his horse and from +fright. Rostov reined in his horse, and his eyes sought his foe to see +whom he had vanquished. The French dragoon officer was hopping with +one foot on the ground, the other being caught in the stirrup. His +eyes, screwed up with fear as if he every moment expected another +blow, gazed up at Rostov with shrinking terror. His pale and +mud-stained face- fair and young, with a dimple in the chin and +light-blue eyes- was not an enemy's face at all suited to a +battlefield, but a most ordinary, homelike face. Before Rostov had +decided what to do with him, the officer cried, "I surrender!" He +hurriedly but vainly tried to get his foot out of the stirrup and +did not remove his frightened blue eyes from Rostov's face. Some +hussars who galloped up disengaged his foot and helped him into the +saddle. On all sides, the hussars were busy with the dragoons; one was +wounded, but though his face was bleeding, he would not give up his +horse; another was perched up behind an hussar with his arms round +him; a third was being helped by an hussar to mount his horse. In +front, the French infantry were firing as they ran. The hussars +galloped hastily back with their prisoners. Rostov galloped back +with the rest, aware of an unpleasant feeling of depression in his +heart. Something vague and confused, which he could not at all account +for, had come over him with the capture of that officer and the blow +he had dealt him. + +Count Ostermann-Tolstoy met the returning hussars, sent for +Rostov, thanked him, and said he would report his gallant deed to +the Emperor and would recommend him for a St. George's Cross. When +sent for by Count Ostermann, Rostov, remembering that he had charged +without orders, felt sure his commander was sending for him to +punish him for breach of discipline. Ostermann's flattering words +and promise of a reward should therefore have struck him all the +more pleasantly, but he still felt that same vaguely disagreeable +feeling of moral nausea. "But what on earth is worrying me?" he +asked himself as he rode back from the general. "Ilyin? No, he's safe. +Have I disgraced myself in any way? No, that's not it." Something +else, resembling remorse, tormented him. "Yes, oh yes, that French +officer with the dimple. And I remember how my arm paused when I +raised it." + +Rostov saw the prisoners being led away and galloped after them to +have a look at his Frenchman with the dimple on his chin. He was +sitting in his foreign uniform on an hussar packhorse and looked +anxiously about him; The sword cut on his arm could scarcely be called +a wound. He glanced at Rostov with a feigned smile and waved his +hand in greeting. Rostov still had the same indefinite feeling, as +of shame. + +All that day and the next his friends and comrades noticed that +Rostov, without being dull or angry, was silent, thoughtful, and +preoccupied. He drank reluctantly, tried to remain alone, and kept +turning something over in his mind. + +Rostov was always thinking about that brilliant exploit of his, +which to his amazement had gained him the St. George's Cross and +even given him a reputation for bravery, and there was something he +could not at all understand. "So others are even more afraid than I +am!" he thought. "So that's all there is in what is called heroism! +And heroism! And did I do it for my country's sake? And how was he +to blame, with his dimple and blue eyes? And how frightened he was! He +thought that I should kill him. Why should I kill him? My hand +trembled. And they have given me a St. George's Cross.... I can't make +it out at all." + +But while Nicholas was considering these questions and still could +reach no clear solution of what puzzled him so, the wheel of fortune +in the service, as often happens, turned in his favor. After the +affair at Ostrovna he was brought into notice, received command of +an hussar battalion, and when a brave officer was needed he was +chosen. + +CHAPTER XVI + +On receiving news of Natasha's illness, the countess, though not +quite well yet and still weak, went to Moscow with Petya and the +rest of the household, and the whole family moved from Marya +Dmitrievna's house to their own and settled down in town. + +Natasha's illness was so serious that, fortunately for her and for +her parents, the consideration of all that had caused the illness, her +conduct and the breaking off of her engagement, receded into the +background. She was so ill that it was impossible for them to consider +in how far she was to blame for what had happened. She could not eat +or sleep, grew visibly thinner, coughed, and, as the doctors made them +feel, was in danger. They could not think of anything but how to +help her. Doctors came to see her singly and in consultation, talked +much in French, German, and Latin, blamed one another, and +prescribed a great variety of medicines for all the diseases known +to them, but the simple idea never occurred to any of them that they +could not know the disease Natasha was suffering from, as no disease +suffered by a live man can be known, for every living person has his +own peculiarities and always has his own peculiar, personal, novel, +complicated disease, unknown to medicine- not a disease of the +lungs, liver, skin, heart, nerves, and so on mentioned in medical +books, but a disease consisting of one of the innumerable combinations +of the maladies of those organs. This simple thought could not occur +to the doctors (as it cannot occur to a wizard that he is unable to +work his charms) because the business of their lives was to cure, +and they received money for it and had spent the best years of their +lives on that business. But, above all, that thought was kept out of +their minds by the fact that they saw they were really useful, as in +fact they were to the whole Rostov family. Their usefulness did not +depend on making the patient swallow substances for the most part +harmful (the harm was scarcely perceptible, as they were given in +small doses), but they were useful, necessary, and indispensable +because they satisfied a mental need of the invalid and of those who +loved her- and that is why there are, and always will be, +pseudo-healers, wise women, homeopaths, and allopaths. They +satisfied that eternal human need for hope of relief, for sympathy, +and that something should be done, which is felt by those who are +suffering. They satisfied the need seen in its most elementary form in +a child, when it wants to have a place rubbed that has been hurt. A +child knocks itself and runs at once to the arms of its mother or +nurse to have the aching spot rubbed or kissed, and it feels better +when this is done. The child cannot believe that the strongest and +wisest of its people have no remedy for its pain, and the hope of +relief and the expression of its mother's sympathy while she rubs +the bump comforts it. The doctors were of use to Natasha because +they kissed and rubbed her bump, assuring her that it would soon +pass if only the coachman went to the chemist's in the Arbat and got a +powder and some pills in a pretty box of a ruble and seventy kopeks, +and if she took those powders in boiled water at intervals of +precisely two hours, neither more nor less. + +What would Sonya and the count and countess have done, how would +they have looked, if nothing had been done, if there had not been +those pills to give by the clock, the warm drinks, the chicken +cutlets, and all the other details of life ordered by the doctors, the +carrying out of which supplied an occupation and consolation to the +family circle? How would the count have borne his dearly loved +daughter's illness had he not known that it was costing him a thousand +rubles, and that he would not grudge thousands more to benefit her, or +had he not known that if her illness continued he would not grudge yet +other thousands and would take her abroad for consultations there, and +had he not been able to explain the details of how Metivier and Feller +had not understood the symptoms, but Frise had, and Mudrov had +diagnosed them even better? What would the countess have done had +she not been able sometimes to scold the invalid for not strictly +obeying the doctor's orders? + +"You'll never get well like that," she would say, forgetting her +grief in her vexation, "if you won't obey the doctor and take your +medicine at the right time! You mustn't trifle with it, you know, or +it may turn to pneumonia," she would go on, deriving much comfort from +the utterance of that foreign word, incomprehensible to others as well +as to herself. + +What would Sonya have done without the glad consciousness that she +had not undressed during the first three nights, in order to be +ready to carry out all the doctor's injunctions with precision, and +that she still kept awake at night so as not to miss the proper time +when the slightly harmful pills in the little gilt box had to be +administered? Even to Natasha herself it was pleasant to see that so +many sacrifices were being made for her sake, and to know that she had +to take medicine at certain hours, though she declared that no +medicine would cure her and that it was all nonsense. And it was +even pleasant to be able to show, by disregarding the orders, that she +did not believe in medical treatment and did not value her life. + +The doctor came every day, felt her pulse, looked at her tongue, and +regardless of her grief-stricken face joked with her. But when he +had gone into another room, to which the countess hurriedly followed +him, he assumed a grave air and thoughtfully shaking his head said +that though there was danger, he had hopes of the effect of this +last medicine and one must wait and see, that the malady was chiefly +mental, but... And the countess, trying to conceal the action from +herself and from him, slipped a gold coin into his hand and always +returned to the patient with a more tranquil mind. + +The symptoms of Natasha's illness were that she ate little, slept +little, coughed, and was always low-spirited. The doctors said that +she could not get on without medical treatment, so they kept her in +the stifling atmosphere of the town, and the Rostovs did not move to +the country that summer of 1812. + +In spite of the many pills she swallowed and the drops and powders +out of the little bottles and boxes of which Madame Schoss who was +fond of such things made a large collection, and in spite of being +deprived of the country life to which she was accustomed, youth +prevailed. Natasha's grief began to be overlaid by the impressions +of daily life, it ceased to press so painfully on her heart, it +gradually faded into the past, and she began to recover physically. + +CHAPTER XVII + +Natasha was calmer but no happier. She not merely avoided all +external forms of pleasure- balls, promenades, concerts, and theaters- +but she never laughed without a sound of tears in her laughter. She +could not sing. As soon as she began to laugh, or tried to sing by +herself, tears choked her: tears of remorse, tears at the recollection +of those pure times which could never return, tears of vexation that +she should so uselessly have ruined her young life which might have +been so happy. Laughter and singing in particular seemed to her like a +blasphemy, in face of her sorrow. Without any need of +self-restraint, no wish to coquet ever entered her head. She said +and felt at that time that no man was more to her than Nastasya +Ivanovna, the buffoon. Something stood sentinel within her and forbade +her every joy. Besides, she had lost all the old interests of her +carefree girlish life that had been so full of hope. The previous +autumn, the hunting, "Uncle," and the Christmas holidays spent with +Nicholas at Otradnoe were what she recalled oftenest and most +painfully. What would she not have given to bring back even a single +day of that time! But it was gone forever. Her presentiment at the +time had not deceived her- that that state of freedom and readiness +for any enjoyment would not return again. Yet it was necessary to live +on. + +It comforted her to reflect that she was not better as she had +formerly imagined, but worse, much worse, than anybody else in the +world. But this was not enough. She knew that, and asked herself, +"What next?" But there was nothing to come. There was no joy in +life, yet life was passing. Natasha apparently tried not to be a +burden or a hindrance to anyone, but wanted nothing for herself. She +kept away from everyone in the house and felt at ease only with her +brother Petya. She liked to be with him better than with the others, +and when alone with him she sometimes laughed. She hardly ever left +the house and of those who came to see them was glad to see only one +person, Pierre. It would have been impossible to treat her with more +delicacy, greater care, and at the same time more seriously than did +Count Bezukhov. Natasha unconsciously felt this delicacy and so +found great pleasure in his society. But she was not even grateful +to him for it; nothing good on Pierre's part seemed to her to be an +effort, it seemed so natural for him to be kind to everyone that there +was no merit in his kindness. Sometimes Natasha noticed +embarrassment and awkwardness on his part in her presence, +especially when he wanted to do something to please her, or feared +that something they spoke of would awaken memories distressing to her. +She noticed this and attributed it to his general kindness and +shyness, which she imagined must be the same toward everyone as it was +to her. After those involuntary words- that if he were free he would +have asked on his knees for her hand and her love- uttered at a moment +when she was so strongly agitated, Pierre never spoke to Natasha of +his feelings; and it seemed plain to her that those words, which had +then so comforted her, were spoken as all sorts of meaningless words +are spoken to comfort a crying child. It was not because Pierre was +a married man, but because Natasha felt very strongly with him that +moral barrier the absence of which she had experienced with Kuragin +that it never entered her head that the relations between him and +herself could lead to love on her part, still less on his, or even +to the kind of tender, self-conscious, romantic friendship between a +man and a woman of which she had known several instances. + +Before the end of the fast of St. Peter, Agrafena Ivanovna Belova, a +country neighbor of the Rostovs, came to Moscow to pay her devotions +at the shrines of the Moscow saints. She suggested that Natasha should +fast and prepare for Holy Communion, and Natasha gladly welcomed the +idea. Despite the doctor's orders that she should not go out early +in the morning, Natasha insisted on fasting and preparing for the +sacrament, not as they generally prepared for it in the Rostov +family by attending three services in their own house, but as Agrafena +Ivanovna did, by going to church every day for a week and not once +missing Vespers, Matins, or Mass. + +The countess was pleased with Natasha's zeal; after the poor results +of the medical treatment, in the depths of her heart she hoped that +prayer might help her daughter more than medicines and, though not +without fear and concealing it from the doctor, she agreed to +Natasha's wish and entrusted her to Belova. Agrafena Ivanovna used +to come to wake Natasha at three in the morning, but generally found +her already awake. She was afraid of being late for Matins. Hastily +washing, and meekly putting on her shabbiest dress and an old +mantilla, Natasha, shivering in the fresh air, went out into the +deserted streets lit by the clear light of dawn. By Agrafena +Ivanovna's advice Natasha prepared herself not in their own parish, +but at a church where, according to the devout Agrafena Ivanovna, +the priest was a man of very severe and lofty life. There were never +many people in the church; Natasha always stood beside Belova in the +customary place before an icon of the Blessed Virgin, let into the +screen before the choir on the left side, and a feeling, new to her, +of humility before something great and incomprehensible, seized her +when at that unusual morning hour, gazing at the dark face of the +Virgin illuminated by the candles burning before it and by the morning +light falling from the window, she listened to the words of the +service which she tried to follow with understanding. When she +understood them her personal feeling became interwoven in the +prayers with shades of its own. When she did not understand, it was +sweeter still to think that the wish to understand everything is +pride, that it is impossible to understand all, that it is only +necessary to believe and to commit oneself to God, whom she felt +guiding her soul at those moments. She crossed herself, bowed low, and +when she did not understand, in horror at her own vileness, simply +asked God to forgive her everything, everything, to have mercy upon +her. The prayers to which she surrendered herself most of all were +those of repentance. On her way home at an early hour when she met +no one but bricklayers going to work or men sweeping the street, and +everybody within the houses was still asleep, Natasha experienced a +feeling new to her, a sense of the possibility of correcting her +faults, the possibility of a new, clean life, and of happiness. + +During the whole week she spent in this way, that feeling grew every +day. And the happiness of taking communion, or "communing" as Agrafena +Ivanovna, joyously playing with the word, called it, seemed to Natasha +so great that she felt she should never live till that blessed Sunday. + +But the happy day came, and on that memorable Sunday, when, +dressed in white muslin, she returned home after communion, for the +first time for many months she felt calm and not oppressed by the +thought of the life that lay before her. + +The doctor who came to see her that day ordered her to continue +the powders he had prescribed a fortnight previously. + +"She must certainly go on taking them morning and evening," said he, +evidently sincerely satisfied with his success. "Only, please be +particular about it. + +"Be quite easy," he continued playfully, as he adroitly took the +gold coin in his palm. "She will soon be singing and frolicking about. +The last medicine has done her a very great deal of good. She has +freshened up very much." + +The countess, with a cheerful expression on her face, looked down at +her nails and spat a little for luck as she returned to the drawing +room. + +CHAPTER XVIII + +At the beginning of July more and more disquieting reports about the +war began to spread in Moscow; people spoke of an appeal by the +Emperor to the people, and of his coming himself from the army to +Moscow. And as up to the eleventh of July no manifesto or appeal had +been received, exaggerated reports became current about them and about +the position of Russia. It was said that the Emperor was leaving the +army because it was in danger, it was said that Smolensk had +surrendered, that Napoleon had an army of a million and only a miracle +could save Russia. + +On the eleventh of July, which was Saturday, the manifesto was +received but was not yet in print, and Pierre, who was at the +Rostovs', promised to come to dinner next day, Sunday, and bring a +copy of the manifesto and appeal, which he would obtain from Count +Rostopchin. + +That Sunday, the Rostovs went to Mass at the Razumovskis' private +chapel as usual. It was a hot July day. Even at ten o'clock, when +the Rostovs got out of their carriage at the chapel, the sultry air, +the shouts of hawkers, the light and gay summer clothes of the +crowd, the dusty leaves of the trees on the boulevard, the sounds of +the band and the white trousers of a battalion marching to parade, the +rattling of wheels on the cobblestones, and the brilliant, hot +sunshine were all full of that summer languor, that content and +discontent with the present, which is most strongly felt on a +bright, hot day in town. All the Moscow notabilities, all the Rostovs' +acquaintances, were at the Razumovskis' chapel, for, as if expecting +something to happen, many wealthy families who usually left town for +their country estates had not gone away that summer. As Natasha, at +her mother's side, passed through the crowd behind a liveried +footman who cleared the way for them, she heard a young man speaking +about her in too loud a whisper. + +"That's Rostova, the one who..." + +"She's much thinner, but all the same she's pretty!" + +She heard, or thought she heard, the names of Kuragin and Bolkonski. +But she was always imagining that. It always seemed to her that +everyone who looked at her was thinking only of what had happened to +her. With a sinking heart, wretched as she always was now when she +found herself in a crowd, Natasha in her lilac silk dress trimmed with +black lace walked- as women can walk- with the more repose and +stateliness the greater the pain and shame in her soul. She knew for +certain that she was pretty, but this no longer gave her +satisfaction as it used to. On the contrary it tormented her more than +anything else of late, and particularly so on this bright, hot +summer day in town. "It's Sunday again- another week past," she +thought, recalling that she had been here the Sunday before, "and +always the same life that is no life, and the same surroundings in +which it used to be so easy to live. I'm pretty, I'm young, and I know +that now I am good. I used to be bad, but now I know I am good," she +thought, "but yet my best years are slipping by and are no good to +anyone." She stood by her mother's side and exchanged nods with +acquaintances near her. From habit she scrutinized the ladies' +dresses, condemned the bearing of a lady standing close by who was not +crossing herself properly but in a cramped manner, and again she +thought with vexation that she was herself being judged and was +judging others, and suddenly, at the sound of the service, she felt +horrified at her own vileness, horrified that the former purity of her +soul was again lost to her. + +A comely, fresh-looking old man was conducting the service with that +mild solemnity which has so elevating and soothing an effect on the +souls of the worshipers. The gates of the sanctuary screen were +closed, the curtain was slowly drawn, and from behind it a soft +mysterious voice pronounced some words. Tears, the cause of which +she herself did not understand, made Natasha's breast heave, and a +joyous but oppressive feeling agitated her. + +"Teach me what I should do, how to live my life, how I may grow good +forever, forever!" she pleaded. + +The deacon came out onto the raised space before the altar screen +and, holding his thumb extended, drew his long hair from under his +dalmatic and, making the sign of the cross on his breast, began in a +loud and solemn voice to recite the words of the prayer... + +"In peace let us pray unto the Lord." + +"As one community, without distinction of class, without enmity, +united by brotherly love- let us pray!" thought Natasha. + +"For the peace that is from above, and for the salvation of our +souls." + +"For the world of angels and all the spirits who dwell above us," +prayed Natasha. + +When they prayed for the warriors, she thought of her brother and +Denisov. When they prayed for all traveling by land and sea, she +remembered Prince Andrew, prayed for him, and asked God to forgive her +all the wrongs she had done him. When they prayed for those who love +us, she prayed for the members of her own family, her father and +mother and Sonya, realizing for the first time how wrongly she had +acted toward them, and feeling all the strength of her love for +them. When they prayed for those who hate us, she tried to think of +her enemies and people who hated her, in order to pray for them. She +included among her enemies the creditors and all who had business +dealings with her father, and always at the thought of enemies and +those who hated her she remembered Anatole who had done her so much +harm- and though he did not hate her she gladly prayed for him as +for an enemy. Only at prayer did she feel able to think clearly and +calmly of Prince Andrew and Anatole, as men for whom her feelings were +as nothing compared with her awe and devotion to God. When they prayed +for the Imperial family and the Synod, she bowed very low and made the +sign of the cross, saying to herself that even if she did not +understand, still she could not doubt, and at any rate loved the +governing Synod and prayed for it. + +When he had finished the Litany the deacon crossed the stole over +his breast and said, "Let us commit ourselves and our whole lives to +Christ the Lord!" + +"Commit ourselves to God," Natasha inwardly repeated. "Lord God, I +submit myself to Thy will!" she thought. "I want nothing, wish for +nothing; teach me what to do and how to use my will! Take me, take +me!" prayed Natasha, with impatient emotion in her heart, not crossing +herself but letting her slender arms hang down as if expecting some +invisible power at any moment to take her and deliver her from +herself, from her regrets, desires, remorse, hopes, and sins. + +The countess looked round several times at her daughter's softened +face and shining eyes and prayed God to help her. + +Unexpectedly, in the middle of the service, and not in the usual +order Natasha knew so well, the deacon brought out a small stool, +the one he knelt on when praying on Trinity Sunday, and placed it +before the doors of the sanctuary screen. The priest came out with his +purple velvet biretta on his head, adjusted his hair, and knelt down +with an effort. Everybody followed his example and they looked at +one another in surprise. Then came the prayer just received from the +Synod- a prayer for the deliverance of Russia from hostile invasion. + +"Lord God of might, God of our salvation!" began the priest in +that voice, clear, not grandiloquent but mild, in which only the +Slav clergy read and which acts so irresistibly on a Russian heart. + +"Lord God of might, God of our salvation! Look this day in mercy and +blessing on Thy humble people, and graciously hear us, spare us, and +have mercy upon us! This foe confounding Thy land, desiring to lay +waste the whole world, rises against us; these lawless men are +gathered together to overthrow Thy kingdom, to destroy Thy dear +Jerusalem, Thy beloved Russia; to defile Thy temples, to overthrow +Thine altars, and to desecrate our holy shrines. How long, O Lord, how +long shall the wicked triumph? How long shall they wield unlawful +power? + +"Lord God! Hear us when we pray to Thee; strengthen with Thy might +our most gracious sovereign lord, the Emperor Alexander Pavlovich; +be mindful of his uprightness and meekness, reward him according to +his righteousness, and let it preserve us, Thy chosen Israel! Bless +his counsels, his undertakings, and his work; strengthen his kingdom +by Thine almighty hand, and give him victory over his enemy, even as +Thou gavest Moses the victory over Amalek, Gideon over Midian, and +David over Goliath. Preserve his army, put a bow of brass in the hands +of those who have armed themselves in Thy Name, and gird their loins +with strength for the fight. Take up the spear and shield and arise to +help us; confound and put to shame those who have devised evil against +us, may they be before the faces of Thy faithful warriors as dust +before the wind, and may Thy mighty Angel confound them and put them +to flight; may they be ensnared when they know it not, and may the +plots they have laid in secret be turned against them; let them fall +before Thy servants' feet and be laid low by our hosts! Lord, Thou art +able to save both great and small; Thou art God, and man cannot +prevail against Thee! + +"God of our fathers! Remember Thy bounteous mercy and +loving-kindness which are from of old; turn not Thy face from us, +but be gracious to our unworthiness, and in Thy great goodness and Thy +many mercies regard not our transgressions and iniquities! Create in +us a clean heart and renew a right spirit within us, strengthen us all +in Thy faith, fortify our hope, inspire us with true love one for +another, arm us with unity of spirit in the righteous defense of the +heritage Thou gavest to us and to our fathers, and let not the scepter +of the wicked be exalted against the destiny of those Thou hast +sanctified. + +"O Lord our God, in whom we believe and in whom we put our trust, +let us not be confounded in our hope of Thy mercy, and give us a token +of Thy blessing, that those who hate us and our Orthodox faith may see +it and be put to shame and perish, and may all the nations know that +Thou art the Lord and we are Thy people. Show Thy mercy upon us this +day, O Lord, and grant us Thy salvation; make the hearts of Thy +servants to rejoice in Thy mercy; smite down our enemies and destroy +them swiftly beneath the feet of Thy faithful servants! For Thou art +the defense, the succor, and the victory of them that put their +trust in Thee, and to Thee be all glory, to Father, Son, and Holy +Ghost, now and forever, world without end. Amen." + +In Natasha's receptive condition of soul this prayer affected her +strongly. She listened to every word about the victory of Moses over +Amalek, of Gideon over Midian, and of David over Goliath, and about +the destruction of "Thy Jerusalem," and she prayed to God with the +tenderness and emotion with which her heart was overflowing, but +without fully understanding what she was asking of God in that prayer. +She shared with all her heart in the prayer for the spirit of +righteousness, for the strengthening of the heart by faith and hope, +and its animation by love. But she could not pray that her enemies +might be trampled under foot when but a few minutes before she had +been wishing she had more of them that she might pray for them. But +neither could she doubt the righteousness of the prayer that was being +read on bended knees. She felt in her heart a devout and tremulous awe +at the thought of the punishment that overtakes men for their sins, +and especially of her own sins, and she prayed to God to forgive +them all, and her too, and to give them all, and her too, peace and +happiness. And it seemed to her that God heard her prayer. + +CHAPTER XIX + +From the day when Pierre, after leaving the Rostovs' with +Natasha's grateful look fresh in his mind, had gazed at the comet that +seemed to be fixed in the sky and felt that something new was +appearing on his own horizon- from that day the problem of the +vanity and uselessness of all earthly things, that had incessantly +tormented him, no longer presented itself. That terrible question +"Why?" "Wherefore?" which had come to him amid every occupation, was +now replaced, not by another question or by a reply to the former +question, but by her image. When he listened to, or himself took +part in, trivial conversations, when he read or heard of human +baseness or folly, he was not horrified as formerly, and did not ask +himself why men struggled so about these things when all is so +transient and incomprehensible- but he remembered her as he had last +seen her, and all his doubts vanished- not because she had answered +the questions that had haunted him, but because his conception of +her transferred him instantly to another, a brighter, realm of +spiritual activity in which no one could be justified or guilty- a +realm of beauty and love which it was worth living for. Whatever +worldly baseness presented itself to him, he said to himself: + +"Well, supposing N. N. swindled the country and the Tsar, and the +country and the Tsar confer honors upon him, what does that matter? +She smiled at me yesterday and asked me to come again, and I love her, +and no one will ever know it." And his soul felt calm and peaceful. + +Pierre still went into society, drank as much and led the same +idle and dissipated life, because besides the hours he spent at the +Rostovs' there were other hours he had to spend somehow, and the +habits and acquaintances he had made in Moscow formed a current that +bore him along irresistibly. But latterly, when more and more +disquieting reports came from the seat of war and Natasha's health +began to improve and she no longer aroused in him the former feeling +of careful pity, an ever-increasing restlessness, which he could not +explain, took possession of him. He felt that the condition he was +in could not continue long, that a catastrophe was coming which +would change his whole life, and he impatiently sought everywhere +for signs of that approaching catastrophe. One of his brother Masons +had revealed to Pierre the following prophecy concerning Napoleon, +drawn from the Revelation of St. John. + +In chapter 13, verse 18, of the Apocalypse, it is said: + +Here is wisdom. Let him that hath understanding count the number +of the beast: for it is the number of a man; and his number is Six +hundred threescore and six. + +And in the fifth verse of the same chapter: + +And there was given unto him a mouth speaking great things and +blasphemies; and power was given unto him to continue forty and two +months. + +The French alphabet, written out with the same numerical values as +the Hebrew, in which the first nine letters denote units and the +others tens, will have the following significance: + + a b c d e f g h i k + 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 + l m n o p q r s + 20 30 40 50 60 70 80 90 + t u v w x y + 100 110 120 130 140 150 + z + 160 + +Writing the words L'Empereur Napoleon in numbers, it appears that +the sum of them is 666, and that Napoleon therefore the beast foretold +in the Apocalypse. Moreover, by applying the same system to the +words quarante-deux,~^ which was the term allowed to the beast that +"spoke great things and blasphemies," the same number 666 was +obtained; from which it followed that the limit fixed for Napoleon's +power had come in the year 1812 when the French emperor was forty-two. +This prophecy pleased Pierre very much and he often asked himself what +would put an end to the power of the beast, that is, of Napoleon, +and tried by the same system of using letters as numbers and adding +them up, to find an answer to the question that engrossed him. He +wrote the words L'Empereur Alexandre, La nation russe and added up +their numbers, but the sums were either more or less than 666. Once +when making such calculations he wrote down his own name in French, +Comte Pierre Besouhoff, but the sum of the numbers did not come right. +Then he changed the spelling, substituting a z for the s and adding de +and the article le, still without obtaining the desired result. Then +it occurred to him: if the answer to the question were contained in +his name, his nationality would also be given in the answer. So he +wrote Le russe Besuhof and adding up the numbers got 671. This was +only five too much, and five was represented by e, the very letter +elided from the article le before the word Empereur. By omitting the +e, though incorrectly, Pierre got the answer he sought. L'russe +Besuhof made 666. This discovery excited him. How, or by what means, +he was connected with the great event foretold in the Apocalypse he +did not know, but he did not doubt that connection for a moment. His +love for Natasha, Antichrist, Napoleon, the invasion, the comet, +666, L'Empereur Napoleon, and L'russe Besuhof- all this had to +mature and culminate, to lift him out of that spellbound, petty sphere +of Moscow habits in which he felt himself held captive and lead him to +a great achievement and great happiness. + +^~ Forty-two. + +On the eve of the Sunday when the special prayer was read, Pierre +had promised the Rostovs to bring them, from Count Rostopchin whom +he knew well, both the appeal to the people and the news from the +army. In the morning, when he went to call at Rostopchin's he met +there a courier fresh from the army, an acquaintance of his own, who +often danced at Moscow balls. + +"Do, please, for heaven's sake, relieve me of something!" said the +courier. "I have a sackful of letters to parents." + +Among these letters was one from Nicholas Rostov to his father. +Pierre took that letter, and Rostopchin also gave him the Emperor's +appeal to Moscow, which had just been printed, the last army orders, +and his own most recent bulletin. Glancing through the army orders, +Pierre found in one of them, in the lists of killed, wounded, and +rewarded, the name of Nicholas Rostov, awarded a St. George's Cross of +the Fourth Class for courage shown in the Ostrovna affair, and in +the same order the name of Prince Andrew Bolkonski, appointed to the +command of a regiment of Chasseurs. Though he did not want to remind +the Rostovs of Bolkonski, Pierre could not refrain from making them +happy by the news of their son's having received a decoration, so he +sent that printed army order and Nicholas' letter to the Rostovs, +keeping the appeal, the bulletin, and the other orders to take with +him when he went to dinner. + +His conversation with Count Rostopchin and the latter's tone of +anxious hurry, the meeting with the courier who talked casually of how +badly things were going in the army, the rumors of the discovery of +spies in Moscow and of a leaflet in circulation stating that +Napoleon promised to be in both the Russian capitals by the autumn, +and the talk of the Emperor's being expected to arrive next day- all +aroused with fresh force that feeling of agitation and expectation +in Pierre which he had been conscious of ever since the appearance +of the comet, and especially since the beginning of the war. + +He had long been thinking of entering the army and would have done +so had he not been hindered, first, by his membership of the Society +of Freemasons to which he was bound by oath and which preached +perpetual peace and the abolition of war, and secondly, by the fact +that when he saw the great mass of Muscovites who had donned uniform +and were talking patriotism, he somehow felt ashamed to take the step. +But the chief reason for not carrying out his intention to enter the +army lay in the vague idea that he was L'russe Besuhof who had the +number of the beast, 666; that his part in the great affair of setting +a limit to the power of the beast that spoke great and blasphemous +things had been predestined from eternity, and that therefore he ought +not to undertake anything, but wait for what was bound to come to +pass. + +CHAPTER XX + +A few intimate friends were dining with the Rostovs that day, as +usual on Sundays. + +Pierre came early so as to find them alone. + +He had grown so stout this year that he would have been abnormal had +he not been so tall, so broad of limb, and so strong that he carried +his bulk with evident ease. + +He went up the stairs, puffing and muttering something. His coachman +did not even ask whether he was to wait. He knew that when his +master was at the Rostovs' he stayed till midnight. The Rostovs' +footman rushed eagerly forward to help him off with his cloak and take +his hat and stick. Pierre, from club habit, always left both hat and +stick in the anteroom. + +The first person he saw in the house was Natasha. Even before he saw +her, while taking off his cloak, he heard her. She was practicing +solfa exercises in the music room. He knew that she had not sung since +her illness, and so the sound of her voice surprised and delighted +him. He opened the door softly and saw her, in the lilac dress she had +worn at church, walking about the room singing. She had her back to +him when he opened the door, but when, turning quickly, she saw his +broad, surprised face, she blushed and came rapidly up to him. + +"I want to try to sing again," she said, adding as if by way of +excuse, "it is, at least, something to do." + +"That's capital!" + +"How glad I am you've come! I am so happy today," she said, with the +old animation Pierre had not seen in her for along time. "You know +Nicholas has received a St. George's Cross? I am so proud of him." + +"Oh yes, I sent that announcement. But I don't want to interrupt +you," he added, and was about to go to the drawing room. + +Natasha stopped him. + +"Count, is it wrong of me to sing?" she said blushing, and fixing +her eyes inquiringly on him. + +"No... Why should it be? On the contrary... But why do you ask me?" + +"I don't know myself," Natasha answered quickly, "but I should not +like to do anything you disapproved of. I believe in you completely. +You don't know how important you are to me, how much you've done for +me...." She spoke rapidly and did not notice how Pierre flushed at her +words. "I saw in that same army order that he, Bolkonski" (she +whispered the name hastily), "is in Russia, and in the army again. +What do you think?"- she was speaking hurriedly, evidently afraid +her strength might fail her- "Will he ever forgive me? Will he not +always have a bitter feeling toward me? What do you think? What do you +think?" + +"I think..." Pierre replied, "that he has nothing to forgive.... +If I were in his place..." + +By association of ideas, Pierre was at once carried back to the +day when, trying to comfort her, he had said that if he were not +himself but the best man in the world and free, he would ask on his +knees for her hand; and the same feeling of pity, tenderness, and love +took possession of him and the same words rose to his lips. But she +did not give him time to say them. + +"Yes, you... you..." she said, uttering the word you rapturously- +"that's a different thing. I know no one kinder, more generous, or +better than you; nobody could be! Had you not been there then, and now +too, I don't know what would have become of me, because..." + +Tears suddenly rose in her eyes, she turned away, lifted her music +before her eyes, began singing again, and again began walking up and +down the room. + +Just then Petya came running in from the drawing room. + +Petya was now a handsome rosy lad of fifteen with full red lips +and resembled Natasha. He was preparing to enter the university, but +he and his friend Obolenski had lately, in secret, agreed to join +the hussars. + +Petya had come rushing out to talk to his namesake about this +affair. He had asked Pierre to find out whether he would be accepted +in the hussars. + +Pierre walked up and down the drawing room, not listening to what +Petya was saying. + +Petya pulled him by the arm to attract his attention. + +"Well, what about my plan? Peter Kirilych, for heaven's sake! You +are my only hope " said Petya. + +"Oh yes, your plan. To join the hussars? I'll mention it, I'll bring +it all up today." + +"Well, mon cher, have you got the manifesto?" asked the old count. +"The countess has been to Mass at the Razumovskis' and heard the new +prayer. She says it's very fine." + +"Yes, I've got it," said Pierre. "The Emperor is to be here +tomorrow... there's to be an Extraordinary Meeting of the nobility, +and they are talking of a levy of ten men per thousand. Oh yes, let me +congratulate you!" + +"Yes, yes, thank God! Well, and what news from the army?" + +"We are again retreating. They say we're already near Smolensk," +replied Pierre. + +"O Lord, O Lord!" exclaimed the count. "Where is the manifesto?" + +"The Emperor's appeal? Oh yes!" + +Pierre began feeling in his pockets for the papers, but could not +find them. Still slapping his pockets, he kissed the hand of the +countess who entered the room and glanced uneasily around, evidently +expecting Natasha, who had left off singing but had not yet come +into the drawing room. + +"On my word, I don't know what I've done with it," he said. + +"There he is, always losing everything!" remarked the countess. + +Natasha entered with a softened and agitated expression of face +and sat down looking silently at Pierre. As soon as she entered, +Pierre's features, which had been gloomy, suddenly lighted up, and +while still searching for the papers he glanced at her several times. + +"No, really! I'll drive home, I must have left them there. I'll +certainly..." + +"But you'll be late for dinner." + +"Oh! And my coachman has gone." + +But Sonya, who had gone to look for the papers in the anteroom, +had found them in Pierre's hat, where he had carefully tucked them +under the lining. Pierre was about to begin reading. + +"No, after dinner," said the old count, evidently expecting much +enjoyment from that reading. + +At dinner, at which champagne was drunk to the health of the new +chevalier of St. George, Shinshin told them the town news, of the +illness of the old Georgian princess, of Metivier's disappearance from +Moscow, and of how some German fellow had been brought to Rostopchin +and accused of being a French "spyer" (so Count Rostopchin had told +the story), and how Rostopchin let him go and assured the people +that he was "not a spire at all, but only an old German ruin." + +"People are being arrested..." said the count. "I've told the +countess she should not speak French so much. It's not the time for it +now." + +"And have you heard?" Shinshin asked. "Prince Golitsyn has engaged a +master to teach him Russian. It is becoming dangerous to speak +French in the streets." + +"And how about you, Count Peter Kirilych? If they call up the +militia, you too will have to mount a horse," remarked the old +count, addressing Pierre. + +Pierre had been silent and preoccupied all through dinner, seeming +not to grasp what was said. He looked at the count. + +"Oh yes, the war," he said. "No! What sort of warrior should I make? +And yet everything is so strange, so strange! I can't make it out. I +don't know, I am very far from having military tastes, but in these +times no one can answer for himself." + +After dinner the count settled himself comfortably in an easy +chair and with a serious face asked Sonya, who was considered an +excellent reader, to read the appeal. + +"To Moscow, our ancient Capital! + +"The enemy has entered the borders of Russia with immense forces. He +comes to despoil our beloved country," + +Sonya read painstakingly in her high-pitched voice. The count +listened with closed eyes, heaving abrupt sighs at certain passages. + +Natasha sat erect, gazing with a searching look now at her father +and now at Pierre. + +Pierre felt her eyes on him and tried not to look round. The +countess shook her head disapprovingly and angrily at every solemn +expression in the manifesto. In all these words she saw only that +the danger threatening her son would not soon be over. Shinshin, +with a sarcastic smile on his lips, was evidently preparing to make +fun of anything that gave him the opportunity: Sonya's reading, any +remark of the count's, or even the manifesto itself should no better +pretext present itself. + +After reading about the dangers that threatened Russia, the hopes +the Emperor placed on Moscow and especially on its illustrious +nobility, Sonya, with a quiver in her voice due chiefly to the +attention that was being paid to her, read the last words: + +"We ourselves will not delay to appear among our people in that +Capital and in others parts of our realm for consultation, and for the +direction of all our levies, both those now barring the enemy's path +and those freshly formed to defeat him wherever he may appear. May the +ruin he hopes to bring upon us recoil on his own head, and may +Europe delivered from bondage glorify the name of Russia!" + +"Yes, that's it!" cried the count, opening his moist eyes and +sniffing repeatedly, as if a strong vinaigrette had been held to his +nose; and he added, "Let the Emperor but say the word and we'll +sacrifice everything and begrudge nothing." + +Before Shinshin had time to utter the joke he was ready to make on +the count's patriotism, Natasha jumped up from her place and ran to +her father. + +"What a darling our Papa is!" she cried, kissing him, and she +again looked at Pierre with the unconscious coquetry that had returned +to her with her better spirits. + +"There! Here's a patriot for you!" said Shinshin. + +"Not a patriot at all, but simply..." Natasha replied in an +injured tone. "Everything seems funny to you, but this isn't at all +a joke...." + +"A joke indeed!" put in the count. "Let him but say the word and +we'll all go.... We're not Germans!" + +"But did you notice, it says, 'for consultation'?" said Pierre. + +"Never mind what it's for...." + +At this moment, Petya, to whom nobody was paying any attention, came +up to his father with a very flushed face and said in his breaking +voice that was now deep and now shrill: + +"Well, Papa, I tell you definitely, and Mamma too, it's as you +please, but I say definitely that you must let me enter the army, +because I can't... that's all...." + +The countess, in dismay, looked up to heaven, clasped her hands, and +turned angrily to her husband. + +"That comes of your talking!" said she. + +But the count had already recovered from his excitement. + +"Come, come!" said he. "Here's a fine warrior! No! Nonsense! You +must study." + +"It's not nonsense, Papa. Fedya Obolenski is younger than I, and +he's going too. Besides, all the same I can't study now when..." Petya +stopped short, flushed till he perspired, but still got out the words, +"when our Fatherland is in danger." + +"That'll do, that'll do- nonsense...." + +"But you said yourself that we would sacrifice everything." + +"Petya! Be quiet, I tell you!" cried the count, with a glance at his +wife, who had turned pale and was staring fixedly at her son. + +"And I tell you- Peter Kirilych here will also tell you..." + +"Nonsense, I tell you. Your mother's milk has hardly dried on your +lips and you want to go into the army! There, there, I tell you," +and the count moved to go out of the room, taking the papers, probably +to reread them in his study before having a nap. + +"Well, Peter Kirilych, let's go and have a smoke," he said. + +Pierre was agitated and undecided. Natasha's unwontedly brilliant +eyes, continually glancing at him with a more than cordial look, had +reduced him to this condition. + +"No, I think I'll go home." + +"Home? Why, you meant to spend the evening with us.... You don't +often come nowadays as it is, and this girl of mine," said the count +good-naturedly, pointing to Natasha, "only brightens up when you're +here." + +"Yes, I had forgotten... I really must go home... business..." +said Pierre hurriedly. + +"Well, then, au revoir!" said the count, and went out of the room. + +"Why are you going? Why are you upset?" asked Natasha, and she +looked challengingly into Pierre's eyes. + +"Because I love you!" was what he wanted to say, but he did not +say it, and only blushed till the tears came, and lowered his eyes. + +"Because it is better for me to come less often... because... No, +simply I have business...." + +"Why? No, tell me!" Natasha began resolutely and suddenly stopped. + +They looked at each other with dismayed and embarrassed faces. He +tried to smile but could not: his smile expressed suffering, and he +silently kissed her hand and went out. + +Pierre made up his mind not to go to the Rostovs' any more. + +CHAPTER XXI + +After the definite refusal he had received, Petya went to his room +and there locked himself in and wept bitterly. When he came in to tea, +silent, morose, and with tear-stained face, everybody pretended not to +notice anything. + +Next day the Emperor arrived in Moscow, and several of the +Rostovs' domestic serfs begged permission to go to have a look at him. +That morning Petya was a long time dressing and arranging his hair and +collar to look like a grown-up man. He frowned before his looking +glass, gesticulated, shrugged his shoulders, and finally, without +saying a word to anyone, took his cap and left the house by the back +door, trying to avoid notice. Petya decided to go straight to where +the Emperor was and to explain frankly to some gentleman-in-waiting +(he imagined the Emperor to be always surrounded by +gentlemen-in-waiting) that he, Count Rostov, in spite of his youth +wished to serve his country; that youth could be no hindrance to +loyalty, and that he was ready to... While dressing, Petya had +prepared many fine things he meant to say to the gentleman-in-waiting. + +It was on the very fact of being so young that Petya counted for +success in reaching the Emperor- he even thought how surprised +everyone would be at his youthfulness- and yet in the arrangement of +his collar and hair and by his sedate deliberate walk he wished to +appear a grown-up man. But the farther he went and the more his +attention was diverted by the ever-increasing crowds moving toward the +Kremlin, the less he remembered to walk with the sedateness and +deliberation of a man. As he approached the Kremlin he even began to +avoid being crushed and resolutely stuck out his elbows in a +menacing way. But within the Trinity Gateway he was so pressed to +the wall by people who probably were unaware of the patriotic +intentions with which he had come that in spite of all his +determination he had to give in, and stop while carriages passed in, +rumbling beneath the archway. Beside Petya stood a peasant woman, a +footman, two tradesmen, and a discharged soldier. After standing +some time in the gateway, Petya tried to move forward in front of +the others without waiting for all the carriages to pass, and he began +resolutely working his way with his elbows, but the woman just in +front of him, who was the first against whom he directed his +efforts, angrily shouted at him: + +"What are you shoving for, young lordling? Don't you see we're all +standing still? Then why push?" + +"Anybody can shove," said the footman, and also began working his +elbows to such effect that he pushed Petya into a very filthy corner +of the gateway. + +Petya wiped his perspiring face with his hands and pulled up the +damp collar which he had arranged so well at home to seem like a +man's. + +He felt that he no longer looked presentable, and feared that if +he were now to approach the gentlemen-in-waiting in that plight he +would not be admitted to the Emperor. But it was impossible to smarten +oneself up or move to another place, because of the crowd. One of +the generals who drove past was an acquaintance of the Rostovs', and +Petya thought of asking his help, but came to the conclusion that that +would not be a manly thing to do. When the carriages had all passed +in, the crowd, carrying Petya with it, streamed forward into the +Kremlin Square which was already full of people. There were people not +only in the square, but everywhere- on the slopes and on the roofs. As +soon as Petya found himself in the square he clearly heard the sound +of bells and the joyous voices of the crowd that filled the whole +Kremlin. + +For a while the crowd was less dense, but suddenly all heads were +bared, and everyone rushed forward in one direction. Petya was being +pressed so that he could scarcely breathe, and everybody shouted, +"Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!" Petya stood on tiptoe and pushed and +pinched, but could see nothing except the people about him. + +All the faces bore the same expression of excitement and enthusiasm. +A tradesman's wife standing beside Petya sobbed, and the tears ran +down her cheeks. + +"Father! Angel! Dear one!" she kept repeating, wiping away her tears +with her fingers. + +"Hurrah!" was heard on all sides. + +For a moment the crowd stood still, but then it made another rush +forward. + +Quite beside himself, Petya, clinching his teeth and rolling his +eyes ferociously, pushed forward, elbowing his way and shouting +"hurrah!" as if he were prepared that instant to kill himself and +everyone else, but on both sides of him other people with similarly +ferocious faces pushed forward and everybody shouted "hurrah!" + +"So this is what the Emperor is!" thought Petya. "No, I can't +petition him myself- that would be too bold." But in spite of this +he continued to struggle desperately forward, and from between the +backs of those in front he caught glimpses of an open space with a +strip of red cloth spread out on it; but just then the crowd swayed +back- the police in front were pushing back those who had pressed +too close to the procession: the Emperor was passing from the palace +to the Cathedral of the Assumption- and Petya unexpectedly received +such a blow on his side and ribs and was squeezed so hard that +suddenly everything grew dim before his eyes and he lost +consciousness. When he came to himself, a man of clerical appearance +with a tuft of gray hair at the back of his head and wearing a +shabby blue cassock- probably a church clerk and chanter- was +holding him under the arm with one hand while warding off the pressure +of the crowd with the other. + +"You've crushed the young gentleman!" said the clerk. "What are +you up to? Gently!... They've crushed him, crushed him!" + +The Emperor entered the Cathedral of the Assumption. The crowd +spread out again more evenly, and the clerk led Petya- pale and +breathless- to the Tsar-cannon. Several people were sorry for Petya, +and suddenly a crowd turned toward him and pressed round him. Those +who stood nearest him attended to him, unbuttoned his coat, seated him +on the raised platform of the cannon, and reproached those others +(whoever they might be) who had crushed him. + +"One might easily get killed that way! What do they mean by it? +Killing people! Poor dear, he's as white as a sheet!"- various +voices were heard saying. + +Petya soon came to himself, the color returned to his face, the pain +had passed, and at the cost of that temporary unpleasantness he had +obtained a place by the cannon from where he hoped to see the +Emperor who would be returning that way. Petya no longer thought of +presenting his petition. If he could only see the Emperor he would +be happy! + +While the service was proceeding in the Cathedral of the Assumption- +it was a combined service of prayer on the occasion of the Emperor's +arrival and of thanksgiving for the conclusion of peace with the +Turks- the crowd outside spread out and hawkers appeared, selling +kvas, gingerbread, and poppyseed sweets (of which Petya was +particularly fond), and ordinary conversation could again be heard. +A tradesman's wife was showing a rent in her shawl and telling how +much the shawl had cost; another was saying that all silk goods had +now got dear. The clerk who had rescued Petya was talking to a +functionary about the priests who were officiating that day with the +bishop. The clerk several times used the word "plenary" (of the +service), a word Petya did not understand. Two young citizens were +joking with some serf girls who were cracking nuts. All these +conversations, especially the joking with the girls, were such as +might have had a particular charm for Petya at his age, but they did +not interest him now. He sat on his elevation- the pedestal of the +cannon- still agitated as before by the thought of the Emperor and +by his love for him. The feeling of pain and fear he had experienced +when he was being crushed, together with that of rapture, still +further intensified his sense of the importance of the occasion. + +Suddenly the sound of a firing of cannon was heard from the +embankment, to celebrate the signing of peace with the Turks, and +the crowd rushed impetuously toward the embankment to watch the +firing. Petya too would have run there, but the clerk who had taken +the young gentleman under his protection stopped him. The firing was +still proceeding when officers, generals, and gentlemen-in-waiting +came running out of the cathedral, and after them others in a more +leisurely manner: caps were again raised, and those who had run to +look at the cannon ran back again. At last four men in uniforms and +sashes emerged from the cathedral doors. "Hurrah! hurrah!" shouted the +crowd again. + +"Which is he? Which?" asked Petya in a tearful voice, of those +around him, but no one answered him, everybody was too excited; and +Petya, fixing on one of those four men, whom he could not clearly +see for the tears of joy that filled his eyes, concentrated all his +enthusiasm on him- though it happened not to be the Emperor- +frantically shouted "Hurrah!" and resolved that tomorrow, come what +might, he would join the army. + +The crowd ran after the Emperor, followed him to the palace, and +began to disperse. It was already late, and Petya had not eaten +anything and was drenched with perspiration, yet he did not go home +but stood with that diminishing, but still considerable, crowd +before the palace while the Emperor dined- looking in at the palace +windows, expecting he knew not what, and envying alike the notables he +saw arriving at the entrance to dine with the Emperor and the court +footmen who served at table, glimpses of whom could be seen through +the windows. + +While the Emperor was dining, Valuev, looking out of the window, +said: + +"The people are still hoping to see Your Majesty again." + +The dinner was nearly over, and the Emperor, munching a biscuit, +rose and went out onto the balcony. The people, with Petya among them, +rushed toward the balcony. + +"Angel! Dear one! Hurrah! Father!..." cried the crowd, and Petya +with it, and again the women and men of weaker mold, Petya among them, +wept with joy. + +A largish piece of the biscuit the Emperor was holding in his hand +broke off, fell on the balcony parapet, and then to the ground. A +coachman in a jerkin, who stood nearest, sprang forward and snatched +it up. Several people in the crowd rushed at the coachman. Seeing this +the Emperor had a plateful of biscuits brought him and began +throwing them down from the balcony. Petya's eyes grew bloodshot, +and still more excited by the danger of being crushed, he rushed at +the biscuits. He did not know why, but he had to have a biscuit from +the Tsar's hand and he felt that he must not give way. He sprang +forward and upset an old woman who was catching at a biscuit; the +old woman did not consider herself defeated though she was lying on +the ground- she grabbed at some biscuits but her hand did not reach +them. Petya pushed her hand away with his knee, seized a biscuit, +and as if fearing to be too late, again shouted "Hurrah!" with a voice +already hoarse. + +The Emperor went in, and after that the greater part of the crowd +began to disperse. + +"There! I said if only we waited- and so it was!" was being joyfully +said by various people. + +Happy as Petya was, he felt sad at having to go home knowing that +all the enjoyment of that day was over. He did not go straight home +from the Kremlin, but called on his friend Obolenski, who was +fifteen and was also entering the regiment. On returning home Petya +announced resolutely and firmly that if he was not allowed to enter +the service he would run away. And next day, Count Ilya Rostov- though +he had not yet quite yielded- went to inquire how he could arrange for +Petya to serve where there would be least danger. + +CHAPTER XXII + +Two days later, on the fifteenth of July, an immense number of +carriages were standing outside the Sloboda Palace. + +The great halls were full. In the first were the nobility and gentry +in their uniforms, in the second bearded merchants in full-skirted +coats of blue cloth and wearing medals. in the noblemen's hall there +was an incessant movement and buzz of voices. The chief magnates sat +on high-backed chairs at a large table under the portrait of the +Emperor, but most of the gentry were strolling about the room. + +All these nobles, whom Pierre met every day at the Club or in +their own houses, were in uniform- some in that of Catherine's day, +others in that of Emperor Paul, others again in the new uniforms of +Alexander's time or the ordinary uniform of the nobility, and the +general characteristic of being in uniform imparted something +strange and fantastic to these diverse and familiar personalities, +both old and young. The old men, dim-eyed, toothless, bald, sallow, +and bloated, or gaunt and wrinkled, were especially striking. For +the most part they sat quietly in their places and were silent, or, if +they walked about and talked, attached themselves to someone +younger. On all these faces, as on the faces of the crowd Petya had +seen in the Square, there was a striking contradiction: the general +expectation of a solemn event, and at the same time the everyday +interests in a boston card party, Peter the cook, Zinaida Dmitrievna's +health, and so on. + +Pierre was there too, buttoned up since early morning in a +nobleman's uniform that had become too tight for him. He was agitated; +this extraordinary gathering not only of nobles but also of the +merchant-class- les etats generaux (States-General)- evoked in him a +whole series of ideas he had long laid aside but which were deeply +graven in his soul: thoughts of the Contrat social and the French +Revolution. The words that had struck him in the Emperor's appeal- +that the sovereign was coming to the capital for consultation with his +people- strengthened this idea. And imagining that in this direction +something important which he had long awaited was drawing near, he +strolled about watching and listening to conversations, but nowhere +finding any confirmation of the ideas that occupied him. + +The Emperor's manifesto was read, evoking enthusiasm, and then all +moved about discussing it. Besides the ordinary topics of +conversation, Pierre heard questions of where the marshals of the +nobility were to stand when the Emperor entered, when a ball should be +given in the Emperor's honor, whether they should group themselves +by districts or by whole provinces... and so on; but as soon as the +war was touched on, or what the nobility had been convened for, the +talk became undecided and indefinite. Then all preferred listening +to speaking. + +A middle-aged man, handsome and virile, in the uniform of a +retired naval officer, was speaking in one of the rooms, and a small +crowd was pressing round him. Pierre went up to the circle that had +formed round the speaker and listened. Count Ilya Rostov, in a +military uniform of Catherine's time, was sauntering with a pleasant +smile among the crowd, with all of whom he was acquainted. He too +approached that group and listened with a kindly smile and nods of +approval, as he always did, to what the speaker was saying. The +retired naval man was speaking very boldly, as was evident from the +expression on the faces of the listeners and from the fact that some +people Pierre knew as the meekest and quietest of men walked away +disapprovingly or expressed disagreement with him. Pierre pushed his +way into the middle of the group, listened, and convinced himself that +the man was indeed a liberal, but of views quite different from his +own. The naval officer spoke in a particularly sonorous, musical, +and aristocratic baritone voice, pleasantly swallowing his r's and +generally slurring his consonants: the voice of a man calling out to +his servant, "Heah! Bwing me my pipe!" It was indicative of +dissipation and the exercise of authority. + +"What if the Smolensk people have offahd to waise militia for the +Empewah? Ah we to take Smolensk as our patte'n? If the noble +awistocwacy of the pwovince of Moscow thinks fit, it can show its +loyalty to our sov'weign the Empewah in other ways. Have we +fo'gotten the waising of the militia in the yeah 'seven? All that +did was to enwich the pwiests' sons and thieves and wobbahs...." + +Count Ilya Rostov smiled blandly and nodded approval. + +"And was our militia of any use to the Empia? Not at all! It only +wuined our farming! Bettah have another conscwiption... o' ou' men +will wetu'n neithah soldiers no' peasants, and we'll get only +depwavity fwom them. The nobility don't gwudge theah lives- evewy +one of us will go and bwing in more wecwuits, and the sov'weign" (that +was the way he referred to the Emperor) "need only say the word and +we'll all die fo' him!" added the orator with animation. + +Count Rostov's mouth watered with pleasure and he nudged Pierre, but +Pierre wanted to speak himself. He pushed forward, feeling stirred, +but not yet sure what stirred him or what he would say. Scarcely had +he opened his mouth when one of the senators, a man without a tooth in +his head, with a shrewd though angry expression, standing near the +first speaker, interrupted him. Evidently accustomed to managing +debates and to maintaining an argument, he began in low but distinct +tones: + +"I imagine, sir," said he, mumbling with his toothless mouth, +"that we have been summoned here not to discuss whether it's best +for the empire at the present moment to adopt conscription or to +call out the militia. We have been summoned to reply to the appeal +with which our sovereign the Emperor has honored us. But to judge what +is best- conscription or the militia- we can leave to the supreme +authority...." + +Pierre suddenly saw an outlet for his excitement. He hardened his +heart against the senator who was introducing this set and narrow +attitude into the deliberations of the nobility. Pierre stepped +forward and interrupted him. He himself did not yet know what he would +say, but he began to speak eagerly, occasionally lapsing into French +or expressing himself in bookish Russian. + +"Excuse me, your excellency," he began. (He was well acquainted with +the senator, but thought it necessary on this occasion to address +him formally.) "Though I don't agree with the gentleman..." (he +hesitated: he wished to say, "Mon tres honorable preopinant"- "My very +honorable opponent") "with the gentleman... whom I have not the +honor of knowing, I suppose that the nobility have been summoned not +merely to express their sympathy and enthusiasm but also to consider +the means by which we can assist our Fatherland! I imagine," he went +on, warming to his subject, "that the Emperor himself would not be +satisfied to find in us merely owners of serfs whom we are willing +to devote to his service, and chair a canon~^ we are ready to make of +ourselves- and not to obtain from us any co-co-counsel." + +^~ "Food for cannon." + +Many persons withdrew from the circle, noticing the senator's +sarcastic smile and the freedom of Pierre's remarks. Only Count Rostov +was pleased with them as he had been pleased with those of the naval +officer, the senator, and in general with whatever speech he had +last heard. + +"I think that before discussing these questions," Pierre +continued, "we should ask the Emperor- most respectfully ask His +Majesty- to let us know the number of our troops and the position in +which our army and our forces now are, and then..." + +But scarcely had Pierre uttered these words before he was attacked +from three sides. The most vigorous attack came from an old +acquaintance, a boston player who had always been well disposed toward +him, Stepan Stepanovich Adraksin. Adraksin was in uniform, and whether +as a result of the uniform or from some other cause Pierre saw +before him quite a different man. With a sudden expression of +malevolence on his aged face, Adraksin shouted at Pierre: + +"In the first place, I tell you we have no right to question the +Emperor about that, and secondly, if the Russian nobility had that +right, the Emperor could not answer such a question. The troops are +moved according to the enemy's movements and the number of men +increases and decreases..." + +Another voice, that of a nobleman of medium height and about forty +years of age, whom Pierre had formerly met at the gypsies' and knew as +a bad cardplayer, and who, also transformed by his uniform, came up to +Pierre, interrupted Adraksin. + +"Yes, and this is not a time for discussing," he continued, "but for +acting: there is war in Russia! The enemy is advancing to destroy +Russia, to desecrate the tombs of our fathers, to carry off our +wives and children." The nobleman smote his breast. "We will all +arise, every one of us will go, for our father the Tsar!" he +shouted, rolling his bloodshot eyes. Several approving voices were +heard in the crowd. "We are Russians and will not grudge our blood +in defense of our faith, the throne, and the Fatherland! We must cease +raving if we are sons of our Fatherland! We will show Europe how +Russia rises to the defense of Russia!" + +Pierre wished to reply, but could not get in a word. He felt that +his words, apart from what meaning they conveyed, were less audible +than the sound of his opponent's voice. + +Count Rostov at the back of the crowd was expressing approval; +several persons, briskly turning a shoulder to the orator at the end +of a phrase, said: + +"That's right, quite right! Just so!" + +Pierre wished to say that he was ready to sacrifice his money, his +serfs, or himself, only one ought to know the state of affairs in +order to be able to improve it, but he was unable to speak. Many +voices shouted and talked at the same time, so that Count Rostov had +not time to signify his approval of them all, and the group increased, +dispersed, re-formed, and then moved with a hum of talk into the +largest hall and to the big table. Not only was Pierre's attempt to +speak unsuccessful, but he was rudely interrupted, pushed aside, and +people turned away from him as from a common enemy. This happened +not because they were displeased by the substance of his speech, which +had even been forgotten after the many subsequent speeches, but to +animate it the crowd needed a tangible object to love and a tangible +object to hate. Pierre became the latter. Many other orators spoke +after the excited nobleman, and all in the same tone. Many spoke +eloquently and with originality. + +Glinka, the editor of the Russian Messenger, who was recognized +(cries of "author! author!" were heard in the crowd), said that +"hell must be repulsed by hell," and that he had seen a child +smiling at lightning flashes and thunderclaps, but "we will not be +that child." + +"Yes, yes, at thunderclaps!" was repeated approvingly in the back +rows of the crowd. + +The crowd drew up to the large table, at which sat gray-haired or +bald seventy-year-old magnates, uniformed and besashed almost all of +whom Pierre had seen in their own homes with their buffoons, or +playing boston at the clubs. With an incessant hum of voices the crowd +advanced to the table. Pressed by the throng against the high backs of +the chairs, the orators spoke one after another and sometimes two +together. Those standing behind noticed what a speaker omitted to +say and hastened to supply it. Others in that heat and crush racked +their brains to find some thought and hastened to utter it. The old +magnates, whom Pierre knew, sat and turned to look first at one and +then at another, and their faces for the most part only expressed +the fact that they found it very hot. Pierre, however, felt excited, +and the general desire to show that they were ready to go to all +lengths- which found expression in the tones and looks more than in +the substance of the speeches- infected him too. He did not renounce +his opinions, but felt himself in some way to blame and wished to +justify himself. + +"I only said that it would be more to the purpose to make sacrifices +when we know what is needed!" said he, trying to be heard above the +other voices. + +One of the old men nearest to him looked round, but his attention +was immediately diverted by an exclamation at the other side of the +table. + +"Yes, Moscow will be surrendered! She will be our expiation!" +shouted one man. + +"He is the enemy of mankind!" cried another. "Allow me to speak...." +"Gentlemen, you are crushing me!..." + +CHAPTER XXIII + +At that moment Count Rostopchin with his protruding chin and alert +eyes, wearing the uniform of a general with sash over his shoulder, +entered the room, stepping briskly to the front of the crowd of +gentry. + +"Our sovereign the Emperor will be here in a moment," said +Rostopchin. "I am straight from the palace. Seeing the position we are +in, I think there is little need for discussion. The Emperor has +deigned to summon us and the merchants. Millions will pour forth +from there"- he pointed to the merchants' hall- "but our business is +to supply men and not spare ourselves... That is the least we can do!" + +A conference took place confined to the magnates sitting at the +table. The whole consultation passed more than quietly. After all +the preceding noise the sound of their old voices saying one after +another, "I agree," or for variety, "I too am of that opinion," and so +on had even a mournful effect. + +The secretary was told to write down the resolution of the Moscow +nobility and gentry, that they would furnish ten men, fully +equipped, out of every thousand serfs, as the Smolensk gentry had +done. Their chairs made a scraping noise as the gentlemen who had +conferred rose with apparent relief, and began walking up and down, +arm in arm, to stretch their legs and converse in couples. + +"The Emperor! The Emperor!" a sudden cry resounded through the halls +and the whole throng hurried to the entrance. + +The Emperor entered the hall through a broad path between two +lines of nobles. Every face expressed respectful, awe-struck +curiosity. Pierre stood rather far off and could not hear all that the +Emperor said. From what he did hear he understood that the Emperor +spoke of the danger threatening the empire and of the hopes he +placed on the Moscow nobility. He was answered by a voice which +informed him of the resolution just arrived at. + +"Gentlemen!" said the Emperor with a quivering voice. + +There was a rustling among the crowd and it again subsided, so +that Pierre distinctly heard the pleasantly human voice of the Emperor +saying with emotion: + +"I never doubted the devotion of the Russian nobles, but today it +has surpassed my expectations. I thank you in the name of the +Fatherland! Gentlemen, let us act! Time is most precious..." + +The Emperor ceased speaking, the crowd began pressing round him, and +rapturous exclamations were heard from all sides. + +"Yes, most precious... a royal word," said Count Rostov, with a sob. +He stood at the back, and, though he had heard hardly anything, +understood everything in his own way. + +From the hall of the nobility the Emperor went to that of the +merchants. There he remained about ten minutes. Pierre was among those +who saw him come out from the merchants' hall with tears of emotion in +his eyes. As became known later, he had scarcely begun to address +the merchants before tears gushed from his eyes and he concluded in +a trembling voice. When Pierre saw the Emperor he was coming out +accompanied by two merchants, one of whom Pierre knew, a fat +otkupshchik. The other was the mayor, a man with a thin sallow face +and narrow beard. Both were weeping. Tears filled the thin man's eyes, +and the fat otkupshchik sobbed outright like a child and kept +repeating: + +"Our lives and property- take them, Your Majesty!" + +Pierre's one feeling at the moment was a desire to show that he +was ready to go all lengths and was prepared to sacrifice +everything. He now felt ashamed of his speech with its +constitutional tendency and sought an opportunity of effacing it. +Having heard that Count Mamonov was furnishing a regiment, Bezukhov at +once informed Rostopchin that he would give a thousand men and their +maintenance. + +Old Rostov could not tell his wife of what had passed without tears, +and at once consented to Petya's request and went himself to enter his +name. + +Next day the Emperor left Moscow. The assembled nobles all took +off their uniforms and settled down again in their homes and clubs, +and not without some groans gave orders to their stewards about the +enrollment, feeling amazed themselves at what they had done. + +BOOK TEN: 1812 + +CHAPTER I + +Napoleon began the war with Russia because he could not resist going +to Dresden, could not help having his head turned by the homage he +received, could not help donning a Polish uniform and yielding to +the stimulating influence of a June morning, and could not refrain +from bursts of anger in the presence of Kurakin and then of Balashev. + +Alexander refused negotiations because he felt himself to be +personally insulted. Barclay de Tolly tried to command the army in the +best way, because he wished to fulfill his duty and earn fame as a +great commander. Rostov charged the French because he could not +restrain his wish for a gallop across a level field; and in the same +way the innumerable people who took part in the war acted in accord +with their personal characteristics, habits, circumstances, and +aims. They were moved by fear or vanity, rejoiced or were indignant, +reasoned, imagining that they knew what they were doing and did it +of their own free will, but they all were involuntary tools of +history, carrying on a work concealed from them but comprehensible +to us. Such is the inevitable fate of men of action, and the higher +they stand in the social hierarchy the less are they free. + +The actors of 1812 have long since left the stage, their personal +interests have vanished leaving no trace, and nothing remains of +that time but its historic results. + +Providence compelled all these men, striving to attain personal +aims, to further the accomplishment of a stupendous result no one of +them at all expected- neither Napoleon, nor Alexander, nor still +less any of those who did the actual fighting. + +The cause of the destruction of the French army in 1812 is clear +to us now. No one will deny that that cause was, on the one hand, +its advance into the heart of Russia late in the season without any +preparation for a winter campaign and, on the other, the character +given to the war by the burning of Russian towns and the hatred of the +foe this aroused among the Russian people. But no one at the time +foresaw (what now seems so evident) that this was the only way an army +of eight hundred thousand men- the best in the world and led by the +best general- could be destroyed in conflict with a raw army of half +its numerical strength, and led by inexperienced commanders as the +Russian army was. Not only did no one see this, but on the Russian +side every effort was made to hinder the only thing that could save +Russia, while on the French side, despite Napoleon's experience and +so-called military genius, every effort was directed to pushing on +to Moscow at the end of the summer, that is, to doing the very thing +that was bound to lead to destruction. + +In historical works on the year 1812 French writers are very fond of +saying that Napoleon felt the danger of extending his line, that he +sought a battle and that his marshals advised him to stop at Smolensk, +and of making similar statements to show that the danger of the +campaign was even then understood. Russian authors are still fonder of +telling us that from the commencement of the campaign a Scythian war +plan was adopted to lure Napoleon into the depths of Russia, and +this plan some of them attribute to Pfuel, others to a certain +Frenchman, others to Toll, and others again to Alexander himself- +pointing to notes, projects, and letters which contain hints of such a +line of action. But all these hints at what happened, both from the +French side and the Russian, are advanced only because they fit in +with the event. Had that event not occurred these hints would have +been forgotten, as we have forgotten the thousands and millions of +hints and expectations to the contrary which were current then but +have now been forgotten because the event falsified them. There are +always so many conjectures as to the issue of any event that however +it may end there will always be people to say: "I said then that it +would be so," quite forgetting that amid their innumerable conjectures +many were to quite the contrary effect. + +Conjectures as to Napoleon's awareness of the danger of extending +his line, and (on the Russian side) as to luring the enemy into the +depths of Russia, are evidently of that kind, and only by much +straining can historians attribute such conceptions to Napoleon and +his marshals, or such plans to the Russian commanders. All the facts +are in flat contradiction to such conjectures. During the whole period +of the war not only was there no wish on the Russian side to draw +the French into the heart of the country, but from their first entry +into Russia everything was done to stop them. And not only was +Napoleon not afraid to extend his line, but he welcomed every step +forward as a triumph and did not seek battle as eagerly as in former +campaigns, but very lazily. + +At the very beginning of the war our armies were divided, and our +sole aim was to unite them, though uniting the armies was no advantage +if we meant to retire and lure the enemy into the depths of the +country. Our Emperor joined the army to encourage it to defend every +inch of Russian soil and not to retreat. The enormous Drissa camp +was formed on Pfuel's plan, and there was no intention of retiring +farther. The Emperor reproached the commanders in chief for every step +they retired. He could not bear the idea of letting the enemy even +reach Smolensk, still less could he contemplate the burning of Moscow, +and when our armies did unite he was displeased that Smolensk was +abandoned and burned without a general engagement having been fought +under its walls. + +So thought the Emperor, and the Russian commanders and people were +still more provoked at the thought that our forces were retreating +into the depths of the country. + +Napoleon having cut our armies apart advanced far into the country +and missed several chances of forcing an engagement. In August he +was at Smolensk and thought only of how to advance farther, though +as we now see that advance was evidently ruinous to him. + +The facts clearly show that Napoleon did not foresee the danger of +the advance on Moscow, nor did Alexander and the Russian commanders +then think of luring Napoleon on, but quite the contrary. The luring +of Napoleon into the depths of the country was not the result of any +plan, for no one believed it to be possible; it resulted from a most +complex interplay of intrigues, aims, and wishes among those who +took part in the war and had no perception whatever of the inevitable, +or of the one way of saving Russia. Everything came about +fortuitously. The armies were divided at the commencement of the +campaign. We tried to unite them, with the evident intention of giving +battle and checking the enemy's advance, and by this effort to unite +them while avoiding battle with a much stronger enemy, and necessarily +withdrawing the armies at an acute angle- we led the French on to +Smolensk. But we withdrew at an acute angle not only because the +French advanced between our two armies; the angle became still more +acute and we withdrew still farther, because Barclay de Tolly was an +unpopular foreigner disliked by Bagration (who would come his +command), and Bagration- being in command of the second army- tried to +postpone joining up and coming under Barclay's command as long as he +could. Bagration was slow in effecting the junction- though that was +the chief aim of all at headquarters- because, as he alleged, he +exposed his army to danger on this march, and it was best for him to +retire more to the left and more to the south, worrying the enemy from +flank and rear and securing from the Ukraine recruits for his army; +and it looks as if he planned this in order not to come under the +command of the detested foreigner Barclay, whose rank was inferior +to his own. + +The Emperor was with the army to encourage it, but his presence +and ignorance of what steps to take, and the enormous number of +advisers and plans, destroyed the first army's energy and it retired. + +The intention was to make a stand at the Drissa camp, but +Paulucci, aiming at becoming commander in chief, unexpectedly employed +his energy to influence Alexander, and Pfuel's whole plan was +abandoned and the command entrusted to Barclay. But as Barclay did not +inspire confidence his power was limited. The armies were divided, +there was no unity of command, and Barclay was unpopular; but from +this confusion, division, and the unpopularity of the foreign +commander in chief, there resulted on the one hand indecision and +the avoidance of a battle (which we could not have refrained from +had the armies been united and had someone else, instead of Barclay, +been in command) and on the other an ever-increasing indignation +against the foreigners and an increase in patriotic zeal. + +At last the Emperor left the army, and as the most convenient and +indeed the only pretext for his departure it was decided that it was +necessary for him to inspire the people in the capitals and arouse the +nation in general to a patriotic war. And by this visit of the Emperor +to Moscow the strength of the Russian army was trebled. + +He left in order not to obstruct the commander in chief's +undivided control of the army, and hoping that more decisive action +would then be taken, but the command of the armies became still more +confused and enfeebled. Bennigsen, the Tsarevich, and a swarm of +adjutants general remained with the army to keep the commander in +chief under observation and arouse his energy, and Barclay, feeling +less free than ever under the observation of all these "eyes of the +Emperor," became still more cautious of undertaking any decisive +action and avoided giving battle. + +Barclay stood for caution. The Tsarevich hinted at treachery and +demanded a general engagement. Lubomirski, Bronnitski, Wlocki, and the +others of that group stirred up so much trouble that Barclay, under +pretext of sending papers to the Emperor, dispatched these Polish +adjutants general to Petersburg and plunged into an open struggle with +Bennigsen and the Tsarevich. + +At Smolensk the armies at last reunited, much as Bagration +disliked it. + +Bagration drove up in a carriage to to the house occupied by +Barclay. Barclay donned his sash and came out to meet and report to +his senior officer Bagration. + +Despite his seniority in rank Bagration, in this contest of +magnanimity, took his orders from Barclay, but, having submitted, +agreed with him less than ever. By the Emperor's orders Bagration +reported direct to him. He wrote to Arakcheev, the Emperor's +confidant: "It must be as my sovereign pleases, but I cannot work with +the Minister (meaning Barclay). For God's sake send me somewhere +else if only in command of a regiment. I cannot stand it here. +Headquarters are so full of Germans that a Russian cannot exist and +there is no sense in anything. I thought I was really serving my +sovereign and the Fatherland, but it turns out that I am serving +Barclay. I confess I do not want to." + +The swarm of Bronnitskis and Wintzingerodes and their like still +further embittered the relations between the commanders in chief, +and even less unity resulted. Preparations were made to fight the +French before Smolensk. A general was sent to survey the position. +This general, hating Barclay, rode to visit a friend of his own, a +corps commander, and, having spent the day with him, returned to +Barclay and condemned, as unsuitable from every point of view, the +battleground he had not seen. + +While disputes and intrigues were going on about the future field of +battle, and while we were looking for the French- having lost touch +with them- the French stumbled upon Neverovski's division and +reached the walls of Smolensk. + +It was necessary to fight an unexpected battle at Smolensk to save +our lines of communication. The battle was fought and thousands were +killed on both sides. + +Smolensk was abandoned contrary to the wishes of the Emperor and +of the whole people. But Smolensk was burned by its own +inhabitants-who had been misled by their governor. And these ruined +inhabitants, setting an example to other Russians, went to Moscow +thinking only of their own losses but kindling hatred of the foe. +Napoleon advanced farther and we retired, thus arriving at the very +result which caused his destruction. + +CHAPTER II + +The day after his son had left, Prince Nicholas sent for Princess +Mary to come to his study. + +"Well? Are you satisfied now?" said he. "You've made me quarrel with +my son! Satisfied, are you? That's all you wanted! Satisfied?... It +hurts me, it hurts. I'm old and weak and this is what you wanted. Well +then, gloat over it! Gloat over it!" + +After that Princess Mary did not see her father for a whole week. He +was ill and did not leave his study. + +Princess Mary noticed to her surprise that during this illness the +old prince not only excluded her from his room, but did not admit +Mademoiselle Bourienne either. Tikhon alone attended him. + +At the end of the week the prince reappeared and resumed his +former way of life, devoting himself with special activity to building +operations and the arrangement of the gardens and completely +breaking off his relations with Mademoiselle Bourienne. His looks +and cold tone to his daughter seemed to say: "There, you see? You +plotted against me, you lied to Prince Andrew about my relations +with that Frenchwoman and made me quarrel with him, but you see I need +neither her nor you!" + +Princess Mary spent half of every day with little Nicholas, watching +his lessons, teaching him Russian and music herself, and talking to +Dessalles; the rest of the day she spent over her books, with her +old nurse, or with "God's folk" who sometimes came by the back door to +see her. + +Of the war Princess Mary thought as women do think about wars. She +feared for her brother who was in it, was horrified by and amazed at +the strange cruelty that impels men to kill one another, but she did +not understand the significance of this war, which seemed to her +like all previous wars. She did not realize the significance of this +war, though Dessalles with whom she constantly conversed was +passionately interested in its progress and tried to explain his own +conception of it to her, and though the "God's folk" who came to see +her reported, in their own way, the rumors current among the people of +an invasion by Antichrist, and though Julie (now Princess +Drubetskaya), who had resumed correspondence with her, wrote patriotic +letters from Moscow. + +"I write you in Russian, my good friend," wrote Julie in her +Frenchified Russian, "because I have a detestation for all the French, +and the same for their language which I cannot support to hear +spoken.... We in Moscow are elated by enthusiasm for our adored +Emperor. + +"My poor husband is enduring pains and hunger in Jewish taverns, but +the news which I have inspires me yet more. + +"You heard probably of the heroic exploit of Raevski, embracing +his two sons and saying: 'I will perish with them but we will not be +shaken!' And truly though the enemy was twice stronger than we, we +were unshakable. We pass the time as we can, but in war as in war! The +princesses Aline and Sophie sit whole days with me, and we, unhappy +widows of live men, make beautiful conversations over our charpie, +only you, my friend, are missing..." and so on. + +The chief reason Princess Mary did not realize the full significance +of this war was that the old prince never spoke of it, did not +recognize it, and laughed at Dessalles when he mentioned it at dinner. +The prince's tone was so calm and confident that Princess Mary +unhesitatingly believed him. + +All that July the old prince was exceedingly active and even +animated. He planned another garden and began a new building for the +domestic serfs. The only thing that made Princess Mary anxious about +him was that he slept very little and, instead of sleeping in his +study as usual, changed his sleeping place every day. One day he would +order his camp bed to be set up in the glass gallery, another day he +remained on the couch or on the lounge chair in the drawing room and +dozed there without undressing, while- instead of Mademoiselle +Bourienne- a serf boy read to him. Then again he would spend a night +in the dining room. + +On August 1, a second letter was received from Prince Andrew. In his +first letter which came soon after he had left home, Prince Andrew had +dutifully asked his father's forgiveness for what he had allowed +himself to say and begged to be restored to his favor. To this +letter the old prince had replied affectionately, and from that time +had kept the Frenchwoman at at Prince Andrew's second letter, +written near Vitebsk after the French had occupied that town, gave a +brief account of the whole campaign, enclosed for them a plan he had +drawn and forecasts as to the further progress of the war. In this +letter Prince Andrew pointed out to his father the danger of staying +at Bald Hills, so near the theater of war and on the army's direct +line of march, and advised him to move to Moscow. + +At dinner that day, on Dessalles' mentioning that the French were +said to have already entered Vitebsk, the old prince remembered his +son's letter. + +"There was a letter from Prince Andrew today," he said to Princess +Mary- "Haven't you read it?" + +"No, Father," she replied in a frightened voice. + +She could not have read the letter as she did not even know it had +arrived. + +"He writes about this war," said the prince, with the ironic smile +that had become habitual to him in speaking of the present war. + +"That must be very interesting," said Dessalles. "Prince Andrew is +in a position to know..." + +"Oh, very interesting!" said Mademoiselle Bourienne. + +"Go and get it for me," said the old prince to Mademoiselle +Bourienne. "You know- under the paperweight on the little table." + +Mademoiselle Bourienne jumped up eagerly. + +"No, don't!" he exclaimed with a frown. "You go, Michael Ivanovich." + +Michael Ivanovich rose and went to the study. But as soon as he +had left the room the old prince, looking uneasily round, threw down +his napkin and went himself. + +"They can't do anything... always make some muddle," he muttered. + +While he was away Princess Mary, Dessalles, Mademoiselle +Bourienne, and even little Nicholas exchanged looks in silence. The +old prince returned with quick steps, accompanied by Michael +Ivanovich, bringing the letter and a plan. These he put down beside +him- not letting anyone read them at dinner. + +On moving to the drawing room he handed the letter to Princess +Mary and, spreading out before him the plan of the new building and +fixing his eyes upon it, told her to read the letter aloud. When she +had done so Princess Mary looked inquiringly at her father. He was +examining the plan, evidently engrossed in his own ideas. + +"What do you think of it, Prince?" Dessalles ventured to ask. + +"I? I?..." said the prince as if unpleasantly awakened, and not +taking his eyes from the plan of the building. + +"Very possibly the theater of war will move so near to us that..." + +"Ha ha ha! The theater of war!" said the prince. "I have said and +still say that the theater of war is Poland and the enemy will never +get beyond the Niemen." + +Dessalles looked in amazement at the prince, who was talking of +the Niemen when the enemy was already at the Dnieper, but Princess +Mary, forgetting the geographical position of the Niemen, thought that +what her father was saying was correct. + +"When the snow melts they'll sink in the Polish swamps. Only they +could fail to see it," the prince continued, evidently thinking of the +campaign of 1807 which seemed to him so recent. "Bennigsen should have +advanced into Prussia sooner, then things would have taken a different +turn..." + +"But, Prince," Dessalles began timidly, "the letter mentions +Vitebsk...." + +"Ah, the letter? Yes..." replied the prince peevishly. "Yes... +yes..." His face suddenly took on a morose expression. He paused. +"Yes, he writes that the French were beaten at... at... what river +is it?" + +Dessalles dropped his eyes. + +"The prince says nothing about that," he remarked gently. + +"Doesn't he? But I didn't invent it myself." + +No one spoke for a long time. + +"Yes... yes... Well, Michael Ivanovich," he suddenly went on, +raising his head and pointing to the plan of the building, "tell me +how you mean to alter it...." + +Michael Ivanovich went up to the plan, and the prince after speaking +to him about the building looked angrily at Princess Mary and +Dessalles and went to his own room. + +Princess Mary saw Dessalles' embarrassed and astonished look fixed +on her father, noticed his silence, and was struck by the fact that +her father had forgotten his son's letter on the drawing-room table; +but she was not only afraid to speak of it and ask Dessalles the +reason of his confusion and silence, but was afraid even to think +about it. + +In the evening Michael Ivanovich, sent by the prince, came to +Princess Mary for Prince Andrew's letter which had been forgotten in +the drawing room. She gave it to him and, unpleasant as it was to +her to do so, ventured to ask him what her father was doing. + +"Always busy," replied Michael Ivanovich with a respectfully +ironic smile which caused Princess Mary to turn pale. "He's worrying +very much about the new building. He has been reading a little, but +now"- Michael Ivanovich went on, lowering his voice- "now he's at +his desk, busy with his will, I expect." (One of the prince's favorite +occupations of late had been the preparation of some papers he meant +to leave at his death and which he called his "will.") + +"And Alpatych is being sent to Smolensk?" asked Princess Mary. + +"Oh, yes, he has been waiting to start for some time." + +CHAPTER III + +When Michael Ivanovich returned to the study with the letter, the +old prince, with spectacles on and a shade over his eyes, was +sitting at his open bureau with screened candles, holding a paper in +his outstretched hand, and in a somewhat dramatic attitude was reading +his manuscript- his "Remarks" as he termed it- which was to be +transmitted to the Emperor after his death. + +When Michael Ivanovich went in there were tears in the prince's eyes +evoked by the memory of the time when the paper he was now reading had +been written. He took the letter from Michael Ivanovich's hand, put it +in his pocket, folded up his papers, and called in Alpatych who had +long been waiting. + +The prince had a list of things to be bought in Smolensk and, +walking up and down the room past Alpatych who stood by the door, he +gave his instructions. + +"First, notepaper- do you hear? Eight quires, like this sample, +gilt-edged... it must be exactly like the sample. Varnish, sealing +wax, as in Michael Ivanovich's list." + +He paced up and down for a while and glanced at his notes. + +"Then hand to the governor in person a letter about the deed." + +Next, bolts for the doors of the new building were wanted and had to +be of a special shape the prince had himself designed, and a leather +case had to be ordered to keep the "will" in. + +The instructions to Alpatych took over two hours and still the +prince did not let him go. He sat down, sank into thought, closed +his eyes, and dozed off. Alpatych made a slight movement. + +"Well, go, go! If anything more is wanted I'll send after you." + +Alpatych went out. The prince again went to his bureau, glanced into +it, fingered his papers, closed the bureau again, and sat down at +the table to write to the governor. + +It was already late when he rose after sealing the letter. He wished +to sleep, but he knew he would not be able to and that most depressing +thoughts came to him in bed. So he called Tikhon and went through +the rooms with him to show him where to set up the bed for that night. + +He went about looking at every corner. Every place seemed +unsatisfactory, but worst of all was his customary couch in the study. +That couch was dreadful to him, probably because of the oppressive +thoughts he had had when lying there. It was unsatisfactory +everywhere, but the corner behind the piano in the sitting room was +better than other places: he had never slept there yet. + +With the help of a footman Tikhon brought in the bedstead and +began putting it up. + +"That's not right! That's not right!" cried the prince, and +himself pushed it a few inches from the corner and then closer in +again. + +"Well, at last I've finished, now I'll rest," thought the prince, +and let Tikhon undress him. + +Frowning with vexation at the effort necessary to divest himself +of his coat and trousers, the prince undressed, sat down heavily on +the bed, and appeared to be meditating as he looked contemptuously +at his withered yellow legs. He was not meditating, but only deferring +the moment of making the effort to lift those legs up and turn over on +the bed. "Ugh, how hard it is! Oh, that this toil might end and you +would release me!" thought he. Pressing his lips together he made that +effort for the twenty-thousandth time and lay down. But hardly had +he done so before he felt the bed rocking backwards and forwards +beneath him as if it were breathing heavily and jolting. This happened +to him almost every night. He opened his eyes as they were closing. + +"No peace, damn them!" he muttered, angry he knew not with whom. "Ah +yes, there was something else important, very important, that I was +keeping till I should be in bed. The bolts? No, I told him about them. +No, it was something, something in the drawing room. Princess Mary +talked some nonsense. Dessalles, that fool, said something. +Something in my pocket- can't remember..." + +"Tikhon, what did we talk about at dinner?" + +"About Prince Michael..." + +"Be quiet, quiet!" The prince slapped his hand on the table. "Yes, I +know, Prince Andrew's letter! Princess Mary read it. Dessalles said +something about Vitebsk. Now I'll read it." + +He had the letter taken from his pocket and the table- on which +stood a glass of lemonade and a spiral wax candle- moved close to +the bed, and putting on his spectacles he began reading. Only now in +the stillness of the night, reading it by the faint light under the +green shade, did he grasp its meaning for a moment. + +"The French at Vitebsk, in four days' march they may be at Smolensk; +perhaps are already there! Tikhon!" Tikhon jumped up. "No, no, I don't +want anything!" he shouted. + +He put the letter under the candlestick and closed his eyes. And +there rose before him the Danube at bright noonday: reeds, the Russian +camp, and himself a young general without a wrinkle on his ruddy face, +vigorous and alert, entering Potemkin's gaily colored tent, and a +burning sense of jealousy of "the favorite" agitated him now as +strongly as it had done then. He recalled all the words spoken at that +first meeting with Potemkin. And he saw before him a plump, rather +sallow-faced, short, stout woman, the Empress Mother, with her smile +and her words at her first gracious reception of him, and then that +same face on the catafalque, and the encounter he had with Zubov +over her coffin about his right to kiss her hand. + +"Oh, quicker, quicker! To get back to that time and have done with +all the present! Quicker, quicker- and that they should leave me in +peace!" + +CHAPTER IV + +Bald Hills, Prince Nicholas Bolkonski's estate, lay forty miles east +from Smolensk and two miles from the main road to Moscow. + +The same evening that the prince gave his instructions to +Alpatych, Dessalles, having asked to see Princess Mary, told her that, +as the prince was not very well and was taking no steps to secure +his safety, though from Prince Andrew's letter it was evident that +to remain at Bald Hills might be dangerous, he respectfully advised +her to send a letter by Alpatych to the Provincial Governor at +Smolensk, asking him to let her know the state of affairs and the +extent of the danger to which Bald Hills was exposed. Dessalles +wrote this letter to the Governor for Princess Mary, she signed it, +and it was given to Alpatych with instructions to hand it to the +Governor and to come back as quickly as possible if there was danger. + +Having received all his orders Alpatych, wearing a white beaver hat- +a present from the prince- and carrying a stick as the prince did, +went out accompanied by his family. Three well-fed roans stood ready +harnessed to a small conveyance with a leather hood. + +The larger bell was muffled and the little bells on the harness +stuffed with paper. The prince allowed no one at Bald Hills to drive +with ringing bells; but on a long journey Alpatych liked to have them. +His satellites- the senior clerk, a countinghouse clerk, a scullery +maid, a cook, two old women, a little pageboy, the coachman, and +various domestic serfs- were seeing him off. + +His daughter placed chintz-covered down cushions for him to sit on +and behind his back. His old sister-in-law popped in a small bundle, +and one of the coachmen helped him into the vehicle. + +"There! There! Women's fuss! Women, women!" said Alpatych, puffing +and speaking rapidly just as the prince did, and he climbed into the +trap. + +After giving the clerk orders about the work to be done, Alpatych, +not trying to imitate the prince now, lifted the hat from his bald +head and crossed himself three times. + +"If there is anything... come back, Yakov Alpatych! For Christ's +sake think of us!" cried his wife, referring to the rumors of war +and the enemy. + +"Women, women! Women's fuss!" muttered Alpatych to himself and +started on his journey, looking round at the fields of yellow rye +and the still-green, thickly growing oats, and at other quite black +fields just being plowed a second time. + +As he went along he looked with pleasure at the year's splendid crop +of corn, scrutinized the strips of ryefield which here and there +were already being reaped, made his calculations as to the sowing +and the harvest, and asked himself whether he had not forgotten any of +the prince's orders. + +Having baited the horses twice on the way, he arrived at the town +toward evening on the fourth of August. + +Alpatych kept meeting and overtaking baggage trains and troops on +the road. As he approached Smolensk he heard the sounds of distant +firing, but these did not impress him. What struck him most was the +sight of a splendid field of oats in which a camp had been pitched and +which was being mown down by the soldiers, evidently for fodder. +This fact impressed Alpatych, but in thinking about his own business +he soon forgot it. + +All the interests of his life for more than thirty years had been +bounded by the will of the prince, and he never went beyond that +limit. Everything not connected with the execution of the prince's +orders did not interest and did not even exist for Alpatych. + +On reaching Smolensk on the evening of the fourth of August he put +up in the Gachina suburb across the Dnieper, at the inn kept by +Ferapontov, where he had been in the habit of putting up for the +last thirty years. Some thirty years ago Ferapontov, by Alpatych's +advice, had bought a wood from the prince, had begun to trade, and now +had a house, an inn, and a corn dealer's shop in that province. He was +a stout, dark, red-faced peasant in the forties, with thick lips, a +broad knob of a nose, similar knobs over his black frowning brows, and +a round belly. + +Wearing a waistcoat over his cotton shirt, Ferapontov was standing +before his shop which opened onto the street. On seeing Alpatych he +went up to him. + +"You're welcome, Yakov Alpatych. Folks are leaving the town, but you +have come to it," said he. + +"Why are they leaving the town?" asked Alpatych. + +"That's what I say. Folks are foolish! Always afraid of the French." + +"Women's fuss, women's fuss!" said Alpatych. + +"Just what I think, Yakov Alpatych. What I say is: orders have +been given not to let them in, so that must be right. And the peasants +are asking three rubles for carting- it isn't Christian!" + +Yakov Alpatych heard without heeding. He asked for a samovar and for +hay for his horses, and when he had had his tea he went to bed. + +All night long troops were moving past the inn. Next morning +Alpatych donned a jacket he wore only in town and went out on +business. It was a sunny morning and by eight o'clock it was already +hot. "A good day for harvesting," thought Alpatych. + +From beyond the town firing had been heard since early morning. At +eight o'clock the booming of cannon was added to the sound of +musketry. Many people were hurrying through the streets and there were +many soldiers, but cabs were still driving about, tradesmen stood at +their shops, and service was being held in the churches as usual. +Alpatych went to the shops, to government offices, to the post office, +and to the Governor's. In the offices and shops and at the post office +everyone was talking about the army and about the enemy who was +already attacking the town, everybody was asking what should be +done, and all were trying to calm one another. + +In front of the Governor's house Alpatych found a large number of +people, Cossacks, and a traveling carriage of the Governor's. At the +porch he met two of the landed gentry, one of whom he knew. This +man, an ex-captain of police, was saying angrily: + +"It's no joke, you know! It's all very well if you're single. 'One +man though undone is but one,' as the proverb says, but with +thirteen in your family and all the property... They've brought us +to utter ruin! What sort of governors are they to do that? They +ought to be hanged- the brigands!..." + +"Oh come, that's enough!" said the other. + +"What do I care? Let him hear! We're not dogs," said the +ex-captain of police, and looking round he noticed Alpatych. + +"Oh, Yakov Alpatych! What have you come for?" + +"To see the Governor by his excellency's order," answered +Alpatych, lifting his head and proudly thrusting his hand into the +bosom of his coat as he always did when he mentioned the prince.... He +has ordered me to inquire into the position of affairs," he added. + +"Yes, go and find out!" shouted the angry gentleman. "They've +brought things to such a pass that there are no carts or +anything!... There it is again, do you hear?" said he, pointing in the +direction whence came the sounds of firing. + +"They've brought us all to ruin... the brigands!" he repeated, and +descended the porch steps. + +Alpatych swayed his head and went upstairs. In the waiting room were +tradesmen, women, and officials, looking silently at one another. +The door of the Governor's room opened and they all rose and moved +forward. An official ran out, said some words to a merchant, called +a stout official with a cross hanging on his neck to follow him, and +vanished again, evidently wishing to avoid the inquiring looks and +questions addressed to him. Alpatych moved forward and next time the +official came out addressed him, one hand placed in the breast of +his buttoned coat, and handed him two letters. + +"To his Honor Baron Asch, from General-in-Chief Prince Bolkonski," +he announced with such solemnity and significance that the official +turned to him and took the letters. + +A few minutes later the Governor received Alpatych and hurriedly +said to him: + +"Inform the prince and princess that I knew nothing: I acted on +the highest instructions- here..." and he handed a paper to +Alpatych. "Still, as the prince is unwell my advice is that they +should go to Moscow. I am just starting myself. Inform them..." + +But the Governor did not finish: a dusty perspiring officer ran into +the room and began to say something in French. The Governor's face +expressed terror. + +"Go," he said, nodding his head to Alpatych, and began questioning +the officer. + +Eager, frightened, helpless glances were turned on Alpatych when +he came out of the Governor's room. Involuntarily listening now to the +firing, which had drawn nearer and was increasing in strength, +Alpatych hurried to his inn. The paper handed to him by the Governor +said this: + +"I assure you that the town of Smolensk is not in the slightest +danger as yet and it is unlikely that it will be threatened with +any. I from the one side and Prince Bagration from the other are +marching to unite our forces before Smolensk, which junction will be +effected on the 22nd instant, and both armies with their united forces +will defend our compatriots of the province entrusted to your care +till our efforts shall have beaten back the enemies of our Fatherland, +or till the last warrior in our valiant ranks has perished. From +this you will see that you have a perfect right to reassure the +inhabitants of Smolensk, for those defended by two such brave armies +may feel assured of victory." (Instructions from Barclay de Tolly to +Baron Asch, the civil governor of Smolensk, 1812.) + +People were anxiously roaming about the streets. + +Carts piled high with household utensils, chairs, and cupboards kept +emerging from the gates of the yards and moving along the streets. +Loaded carts stood at the house next to Ferapontov's and women were +wailing and lamenting as they said good-by. A small watchdog ran round +barking in front of the harnessed horses. + +Alpatych entered the innyard at a quicker pace than usual and went +straight to the shed where his horses and trap were. The coachman +was asleep. He woke him up, told him to harness, and went into the +passage. From the host's room came the sounds of a child crying, the +despairing sobs of a woman, and the hoarse angry shouting of +Ferapontov. The cook began running hither and thither in the passage +like a frightened hen, just as Alpatych entered. + +"He's done her to death. Killed the mistress!... Beat her... dragged +her about so!..." + +"What for?" asked Alpatych. + +"She kept begging to go away. She's a woman! 'Take me away,' says +she, 'don't let me perish with my little children! Folks,' she says, +'are all gone, so why,' she says, 'don't we go?' And he began +beating and pulling her about so!" + +At these words Alpatych nodded as if in approval, and not wishing to +hear more went to the door of the room opposite the innkeeper's, where +he had left his purchases. + +"You brute, you murderer!" screamed a thin, pale woman who, with a +baby in her arms and her kerchief torn from her head, burst through +the door at that moment and down the steps into the yard. + +Ferapontov came out after her, but on seeing Alpatych adjusted his +waistcoat, smoothed his hair, yawned, and followed Alpatych into the +opposite room. + +"Going already?" said he. + +Alpatych, without answering or looking at his host, sorted his +packages and asked how much he owed. + +"We'll reckon up! Well, have you been to the Governor's?" asked +Ferapontov. "What has been decided?" + +Alpatych replied that the Governor had not told him anything +definite. + +"With our business, how can we get away?" said Ferapontov. "We'd +have to pay seven rubles a cartload to Dorogobuzh and I tell them +they're not Christians to ask it! Selivanov, now, did a good stroke +last Thursday- sold flour to the army at nine rubles a sack. Will +you have some tea?" he added. + +While the horses were being harnessed Alpatych and Ferapontov over +their tea talked of the price of corn, the crops, and the good weather +for harvesting. + +"Well, it seems to be getting quieter," remarked Ferapontov, +finishing his third cup of tea and getting up. "Ours must have got the +best of it. The orders were not to let them in. So we're in force, +it seems.... They say the other day Matthew Ivanych Platov drove +them into the river Marina and drowned some eighteen thousand in one +day." + +Alpatych collected his parcels, handed them to the coachman who +had come in, and settled up with the innkeeper. The noise of wheels, +hoofs, and bells was heard from the gateway as a little trap passed +out. + +It was by now late in the afternoon. Half the street was in +shadow, the other half brightly lit by the sun. Alpatych looked out of +the window and went to the door. Suddenly the strange sound of a +far-off whistling and thud was heard, followed by a boom of cannon +blending into a dull roar that set the windows rattling. + +He went out into the street: two men were running past toward the +bridge. From different sides came whistling sounds and the thud of +cannon balls and bursting shells falling on the town. But these sounds +were hardly heard in comparison with the noise of the firing outside +the town and attracted little attention from the inhabitants. The town +was being bombarded by a hundred and thirty guns which Napoleon had +ordered up after four o'clock. The people did not at once realize +the meaning of this bombardment. + +At first the noise of the falling bombs and shells only aroused +curiosity. Ferapontov's wife, who till then had not ceased wailing +under the shed, became quiet and with the baby in her arms went to the +gate, listening to the sounds and looking in silence at the people. + +The cook and a shop assistant came to the gate. With lively +curiosity everyone tried to get a glimpse of the projectiles as they +flew over their heads. Several people came round the corner talking +eagerly. + +"What force!" remarked one. "Knocked the roof and ceiling all to +splinters!" + +"Routed up the earth like a pig," said another. + +"That's grand, it bucks one up!" laughed the first. "Lucky you +jumped aside, or it would have wiped you out!" + +Others joined those men and stopped and told how cannon balls had +fallen on a house close to them. Meanwhile still more projectiles, now +with the swift sinister whistle of a cannon ball, now with the +agreeable intermittent whistle of a shell, flew over people's heads +incessantly, but not one fell close by, they all flew over. Alpatych +was getting into his trap. The innkeeper stood at the gate. + +"What are you staring at?" he shouted to the cook, who in her red +skirt, with sleeves rolled up, swinging her bare elbows, had stepped +to the corner to listen to what was being said. + +"What marvels!" she exclaimed, but hearing her master's voice she +turned back. pulling down her tucked-up skirt. + +Once more something whistled, but this time quite close, swooping +downwards like a little bird; a flame flashed in the middle of the +street, something exploded, and the street was shrouded in smoke. + +"Scoundrel, what are you doing?" shouted the innkeeper, rushing to +the cook. + +At that moment the pitiful wailing of women was heard from different +sides, the frightened baby began to cry, and people crowded silently +with pale faces round the cook. The loudest sound in that crowd was +her wailing. + +"Oh-h-h! Dear souls, dear kind souls! Don't let me die! My good +souls!..." + +Five minutes later no one remained in the street. The cook, with her +thigh broken by a shell splinter, had been carried into the kitchen. +Alpatych, his coachman, Ferapontov's wife and children and the house +porter were all sitting in the cellar, listening. The roar of guns, +the whistling of projectiles, and the piteous moaning of the cook, +which rose above the other sounds, did not cease for a moment. The +mistress rocked and hushed her baby and when anyone came into the +cellar asked in a pathetic whisper what had become of her husband +who had remained in the street. A shopman who entered told her that +her husband had gone with others to the cathedral, whence they were +fetching the wonder-working icon of Smolensk. + +Toward dusk the cannonade began to subside. Alpatych left the cellar +and stopped in the doorway. The evening sky that had been so clear was +clouded with smoke, through which, high up, the sickle of the new moon +shone strangely. Now that the terrible din of the guns had ceased a +hush seemed to reign over the town, broken only by the rustle of +footsteps, the moaning, the distant cries, and the crackle of fires +which seemed widespread everywhere. The cook's moans had now subsided. +On two sides black curling clouds of smoke rose and spread from the +fires. Through the streets soldiers in various uniforms walked or +ran confusedly in different directions like ants from a ruined +ant-hill. Several of them ran into Ferapontov's yard before Alpatych's +eyes. Alpatych went out to the gate. A retreating regiment, +thronging and hurrying, blocked the street. + +Noticing him, an officer said: "The town is being abandoned. Get +away, get away!" and then, turning to the soldiers, shouted: + +"I'll teach you to run into the yards!" + +Alpatych went back to the house, called the coachman, and told him +to set off. Ferapontov's whole household came out too, following +Alpatych and the coachman. The women, who had been silent till then, +suddenly began to wail as they looked at the fires- the smoke and even +the flames of which could be seen in the failing twilight- and as if +in reply the same kind of lamentation was heard from other parts of +the street. Inside the shed Alpatych and the coachman arranged the +tangled reins and traces of their horses with trembling hands. + +As Alpatych was driving out of the gate he saw some ten soldiers +in Ferapontov's open shop, talking loudly and filling their bags and +knapsacks with flour and sunflower seeds. Just then Ferapontov +returned and entered his shop. On seeing the soldiers he was about +to shout at them, but suddenly stopped and, clutching at his hair, +burst into sobs and laughter: + +"Loot everything, lads! Don't let those devils get it!" he cried, +taking some bags of flour himself and throwing them into the street. + +Some of the soldiers were frightened and ran away, others went on +filling their bags. On seeing Alpatych, Ferapontov turned to him: + +"Russia is done for!" he cried. "Alpatych, I'll set the place on +fire myself. We're done for!..." and Ferapontov ran into the yard. + +Soldiers were passing in a constant stream along the street blocking +it completely, so that Alpatych could not pass out and had to wait. +Ferapontov's wife and children were also sitting in a cart waiting +till it was it was possible to drive out. + +Night had come. There were stars in the sky and the new moon shone +out amid the smoke that screened it. On the sloping descent to the +Dnieper Alpatych's cart and that of the innkeeper's wife, which were +slowly moving amid the rows of soldiers and of other vehicles, had +to stop. In a side street near the crossroads where the vehicles had +stopped, a house and some shops were on fire. This fire was already +burning itself out. The flames now died down and were lost in the +black smoke, now suddenly flared up again brightly, lighting up with +strange distinctness the faces of the people crowding at the +crossroads. Black figures flitted about before the fire, and through +the incessant crackling of the flames talking and shouting could be +heard. Seeing that his trap would not be able to move on for some +time, Alpatych got down and turned into the side street to look at the +fire. Soldiers were continually rushing backwards and forwards near +it, and he saw two of them and a man in a frieze coat dragging burning +beams into another yard across the street, while others carried +bundles of hay. + +Alpatych went up to a large crowd standing before a high barn +which was blazing briskly. The walls were all on fire and the back +wall had fallen in, the wooden roof was collapsing, and the rafters +were alight. The crowd was evidently watching for the roof to fall in, +and Alpatych watched for it too. + +"Alpatych!" a familiar voice suddenly hailed the old man. + +"Mercy on us! Your excellency!" answered Alpatych, immediately +recognizing the voice of his young prince. + +Prince Andrew in his riding cloak, mounted on a black horse, was +looking at Alpatych from the back of the crowd. + +"Why are you here?" he asked. + +"Your... your excellency," stammered Alpatych and broke into sobs. +"Are we really lost? Master!..." + +"Why are you here?" Prince Andrew repeated. + +At that moment the flames flared up and showed his young master's +pale worn face. Alpatych told how he had been sent there and how +difficult it was to get away. + +"Are we really quite lost, your excellency?" he asked again. + +Prince Andrew without replying took out a notebook and raising his +knee began writing in pencil on a page he tore out. He wrote to his +sister: + +"Smolensk is being abandoned. Bald Hills will be occupied by the +enemy within a week. Set off immediately for Moscow. Let me know at +once when you will start. Send by special messenger to Usvyazh." + +Having written this and given the paper to Alpatych, he told him how +to arrange for departure of the prince, the princess, his son, and the +boy's tutor, and how and where to let him know immediately. Before +he had had time to finish giving these instructions, a chief of +staff followed by a suite galloped up to him. + +"You are a colonel?" shouted the chief of staff with a German +accent, in a voice familiar to Prince Andrew. "Houses are set on +fire in your presence and you stand by! What does this mean? You +will answer for it!" shouted Berg, who was now assistant to the +chief of staff of the commander of the left flank of the infantry of +the first army, a place, as Berg said, "very agreeable and well en +evidence." + +Prince Andrew looked at him and without replying went on speaking to +Alpatych. + +"So tell them that I shall await a reply till the tenth, and if by +the tenth I don't receive news that they have all got away I shall +have to throw up everything and come myself to Bald Hills." + +"Prince," said Berg, recognizing Prince Andrew, "I only spoke +because I have to obey orders, because I always do obey exactly.... +You must please excuse me," he went on apologetically. + +Something cracked in the flames. The fire died down for a moment and +wreaths of black smoke rolled from under the roof. There was another +terrible crash and something huge collapsed. + +"Ou-rou-rou!" yelled the crowd, echoing the crash of the +collapsing roof of the barn, the burning grain in which diffused a +cakelike aroma all around. The flames flared up again, lighting the +animated, delighted, exhausted faces of the spectators. + +The man in the frieze coat raised his arms and shouted: + +"It's fine, lads! Now it's raging... It's fine!" + +"That's the owner himself," cried several voices. + +"Well then," continued Prince Andrew to Alpatych, "report to them as +I have told you"; and not replying a word to Berg who was now mute +beside him, he touched his horse and rode down the side street. + +CHAPTER V + +From Smolensk the troops continued to retreat, followed by the +enemy. On the tenth of August the regiment Prince Andrew commanded was +marching along the highroad past the avenue leading to Bald Hills. +Heat and drought had continued for more than three weeks. Each day +fleecy clouds floated across the sky and occasionally veiled the +sun, but toward evening the sky cleared again and the sun set in +reddish-brown mist. Heavy night dews alone refreshed the earth. The +unreaped corn was scorched and shed its grain. The marshes dried up. +The cattle lowed from hunger, finding no food on the sun-parched +meadows. Only at night and in the forests while the dew lasted was +there any freshness. But on the road, the highroad along which the +troops marched, there was no such freshness even at night or when +the road passed through the forest; the dew was imperceptible on the +sandy dust churned up more than six inches deep. As soon as day dawned +the march began. The artillery and baggage wagons moved noiselessly +through the deep dust that rose to the very hubs of the wheels, and +the infantry sank ankle-deep in that soft, choking, hot dust that +never cooled even at night. Some of this dust was kneaded by the +feet and wheels, while the rest rose and hung like a cloud over the +troops, settling in eyes, ears, hair, and nostrils, and worst of all +in the lungs of the men and beasts as they moved along that road. +The higher the sun rose the higher rose that cloud of dust, and +through the screen of its hot fine particles one could look with naked +eye at the sun, which showed like a huge crimson ball in the unclouded +sky. There was no wind, and the men choked in that motionless +atmosphere. They marched with handkerchiefs tied over their noses +and mouths. When they passed through a village they all rushed to +the wells and fought for the water and drank it down to the mud. + +Prince Andrew was in command of a regiment, and the management of +that regiment, the welfare of the men and the necessity of receiving +and giving orders, engrossed him. The burning of Smolensk and its +abandonment made an epoch in his life. A novel feeling of anger +against the foe made him forget his own sorrow. He was entirely +devoted to the affairs of his regiment and was considerate and kind to +his men and officers. In the regiment they called him "our prince," +were proud of him and loved him. But he was kind and gentle only to +those of his regiment, to Timokhin and the like- people quite new to +him, belonging to a different world and who could not know and +understand his past. As soon as he came across a former acquaintance +or anyone from the staff, he bristled up immediately and grew +spiteful, ironical, and contemptuous. Everything that reminded him +of his past was repugnant to him, and so in his relations with that +former circle he confined himself to trying to do his duty and not +to be unfair. + +In truth everything presented itself in a dark and gloomy light to +Prince Andrew, especially after the abandonment of Smolensk on the +sixth of August (he considered that it could and should have been +defended) and after his sick father had had to flee to Moscow, +abandoning to pillage his dearly beloved Bald Hills which he had built +and peopled. But despite this, thanks to his regiment, Prince Andrew +had something to think about entirely apart from general questions. +Two days previously he had received news that his father, son, and +sister had left for Moscow; and though there was nothing for him to do +at Bald Hills, Prince Andrew with a characteristic desire to foment +his own grief decided that he must ride there. + +He ordered his horse to be saddled and, leaving his regiment on +the march, rode to his father's estate where he had been born and +spent his childhood. Riding past the pond where there used always to +be dozens of women chattering as they rinsed their linen or beat it +with wooden beetles, Prince Andrew noticed that there was not a soul +about and that the little washing wharf, torn from its place and +half submerged, was floating on its side in the middle of the pond. He +rode to the keeper's lodge. No one at the stone entrance gates of +the drive and the door stood open. Grass had already begun to grow +on the garden paths, and horses and calves were straying in the +English park. Prince Andrew rode up to the hothouse; some of the glass +panes were broken, and of the trees in tubs some were overturned and +others dried up. He called for Taras the gardener, but no one replied. +Having gone round the corner of the hothouse to the ornamental garden, +he saw that the carved garden fence was broken and branches of the +plum trees had been torn off with the fruit. An old peasant whom +Prince Andrew in his childhood had often seen at the gate was +sitting on a green garden seat, plaiting a bast shoe. + +He was deaf and did not hear Prince Andrew ride up. He was sitting +on the seat the old prince used to like to sit on, and beside him +strips of bast were hanging on the broken and withered branch of a +magnolia. + +Prince Andrew rode up to the house. Several limes in the old +garden had been cut down and a piebald mare and her foal were +wandering in front of the house among the rosebushes. The shutters +were all closed, except at one window which was open. A little serf +boy, seeing Prince Andrew, ran into the house. Alpatych, having sent +his family away, was alone at Bald Hills and was sitting indoors +reading the Lives of the Saints. On hearing that Prince Andrew had +come, he went out with his spectacles on his nose, buttoning his coat, +and, hastily stepping up, without a word began weeping and kissing +Prince Andrew's knee. + +Then, vexed at his own weakness, he turned away and began to +report on the position of affairs. Everything precious and valuable +had been removed to Bogucharovo. Seventy quarters of grain had also +been carted away. The hay and the spring corn, of which Alpatych +said there had been a remarkable crop that year, had been commandeered +by the troops and mown down while still green. The peasants were +ruined; some of them too had gone to Bogucharovo, only a few remained. + +Without waiting to hear him out, Prince Andrew asked: + +"When did my father and sister leave?" meaning when did they leave +for Moscow. + +Alpatych, understanding the question to refer to their departure for +Bogucharovo, replied that they had left on the seventh and again +went into details concerning the estate management, asking for +instructions. + +"Am I to let the troops have the oats, and to take a receipt for +them? We have still six hundred quarters left," he inquired. + +"What am I to say to him?" thought Prince Andrew, looking down on +the old man's bald head shining in the sun and seeing by the +expression on his face that the old man himself understood how +untimely such questions were and only asked them to allay his grief. + +"Yes, let them have it," replied Prince Andrew. + +"If you noticed some disorder in the garden," said Alpatych, "it was +impossible to prevent it. Three regiments have been here and spent the +night, dragoons mostly. I took down the name and rank of their +commanding officer, to hand in a complaint about it." + +"Well, and what are you going to do? Will you stay here if the enemy +occupies the place?" asked Prince Andrew. + +Alpatych turned his face to Prince Andrew, looked at him, and +suddenly with a solemn gesture raised his arm. + +"He is my refuge! His will be done!" he exclaimed. + +A group of bareheaded peasants was approaching across the meadow +toward the prince. + +"Well, good-by!" said Prince Andrew, bending over to Alpatych. +"You must go away too, take away what you can and tell the serfs to go +to the Ryazan estate or to the one near Moscow." + +Alpatych clung to Prince Andrew's leg and burst into sobs. Gently +disengaging himself, the prince spurred his horse and rode down the +avenue at a gallop. + +The old man was still sitting in the ornamental garden, like a fly +impassive on the face of a loved one who is dead, tapping the last +on which he was making the bast shoe, and two little girls, running +out from the hot house carrying in their skirts plums they had plucked +from the trees there, came upon Prince Andrew. On seeing the young +master, the elder one frightened look clutched her younger companion +by the hand and hid with her behind a birch tree, not stopping to pick +up some green plums they had dropped. + +Prince Andrew turned away with startled haste, unwilling to let them +see that they had been observed. He was sorry for the pretty +frightened little girl, was afraid of looking at her, and yet felt +an irresistible desire to do so. A new sensation of comfort and relief +came over him when, seeing these girls, he realized the existence of +other human interests entirely aloof from his own and just as +legitimate as those that occupied him. Evidently these girls +passionately desired one thing- to carry away and eat those green +plums without being caught- and Prince Andrew shared their wish for +the success of their enterprise. He could not resist looking at them +once more. Believing their danger past, they sprang from their +ambush and, chirruping something in their shrill little voices and +holding up their skirts, their bare little sunburned feet scampered +merrily and quickly across the meadow grass. + +Prince Andrew was somewhat refreshed by having ridden off the +dusty highroad along which the troops were moving. But not far from +Bald Hills he again came out on the road and overtook his regiment +at its halting place by the dam of a small pond. It was past one +o'clock. The sun, a red ball through the dust, burned and scorched his +back intolerably through his black coat. The dust always hung +motionless above the buzz of talk that came from the resting troops. +There was no wind. As he crossed the dam Prince Andrew smelled the +ooze and freshness of the pond. He longed to get into that water, +however dirty it might be, and he glanced round at the pool from +whence came sounds of shrieks and laughter. The small, muddy, green +pond had risen visibly more than a foot, flooding the dam, because +it was full of the naked white bodies of soldiers with brick-red +hands, necks, and faces, who were splashing about in it. All this +naked white human flesh, laughing and shrieking, floundered about in +that dirty pool like carp stuffed into a watering can, and the +suggestion of merriment in that floundering mass rendered it specially +pathetic. + +One fair-haired young soldier of the third company, whom Prince +Andrew knew and who had a strap round the calf of one leg, crossed +himself, stepped back to get a good run, and plunged into the water; +another, a dark noncommissioned officer who was always shaggy, stood +up to his waist in the water joyfully wriggling his muscular figure +and snorted with satisfaction as he poured the water over his head +with hands blackened to the wrists. There were sounds of men +slapping one another, yelling, and puffing. + +Everywhere on the bank, on the dam, and in the pond, there was +healthy, white, muscular flesh. The officer, Timokhin, with his red +little nose, standing on the dam wiping himself with a towel, felt +confused at seeing the prince, but made up his mind to address him +nevertheless. + +"It's very nice, your excellency! Wouldn't you like to?" said he. + +"It's dirty," replied Prince Andrew, making a grimace. + +"We'll clear it out for you in a minute," said Timokhin, and, +still undressed, ran off to clear the men out of the pond. + +"The prince wants to bathe." + +"What prince? Ours?" said many voices, and the men were in such +haste to clear out that the prince could hardly stop them. He +decided that he would rather himself with water in the barn. + +"Flesh, bodies, cannon fodder!" he thought, and he looked at his own +naked body and shuddered, not from cold but from a sense of disgust +and horror he did not himself understand, aroused by the sight of that +immense number of bodies splashing about in the dirty pond. + +On the seventh of August Prince Bagration wrote as follows from +his quarters at Mikhaylovna on the Smolensk road: + +Dear Count Alexis Andreevich- (He was writing to Arakcheev but +knew that his letter would be read by the Emperor, and therefore +weighed every word in it to the best of his ability.) + +I expect the Minister [Barclay de Tolly] has already reported the +abandonment of Smolensk to the enemy. It is pitiable and sad, and +the whole army is in despair that this most important place has been +wantonly abandoned. I, for my part, begged him personally most +urgently and finally wrote him, but nothing would induce him to +consent. I swear to you on my honor that Napoleon was in such a fix as +never before and might have lost half his army but could not have +taken Smolensk. Our troops fought, and are fighting, as never +before. With fifteen thousand men I held the enemy at bay for +thirty-five hours and beat him; but he would not hold out even for +fourteen hours. It is disgraceful, a stain on our army, and as for +him, he ought, it seems to me, not to live. If he reports that our +losses were great, it is not true; perhaps about four thousand, not +more, and not even that; but even were they ten thousand, that's +war! But the enemy has lost masses... + +What would it have cost him to hold out for another two days? They +would have had to retire of their own accord, for they had no water +for men or horses. He gave me his word he would not retreat, but +suddenly sent instructions that he was retiring that night. We +cannot fight in this way, or we may soon bring the enemy to Moscow... + +There is a rumor that you are thinking of peace. God forbid that you +should make peace after all our sacrifices and such insane retreats! +You would set all Russia against you and every one of us would feel +ashamed to wear the uniform. If it has come to this- we must fight +as long as Russia can and as long as there are men able to stand... + +One man ought to be in command, and not two. Your Minister may +perhaps be good as a Minister, but as a general he is not merely bad +but execrable, yet to him is entrusted the fate of our whole +country.... I am really frantic with vexation; forgive my writing +boldly. It is clear that the man who advocates the conclusion of a +peace, and that the Minister should command the army, does not love +our sovereign and desires the ruin of us all. So I write you +frankly: call out the militia. For the Minister is leading these +visitors after him to Moscow in a most masterly way. The whole army +feels great suspicion of the Imperial aide-de-camp Wolzogen. He is +said to be more Napoleon's man than ours, and he is always advising +the Minister. I am not merely civil to him but obey him like a +corporal, though I am his senior. This is painful, but, loving my +benefactor and sovereign, I submit. Only I am sorry for the Emperor +that he entrusts our fine army to such as he. Consider that on our +retreat we have lost by fatigue and left in the hospital more than +fifteen thousand men, and had we attacked this would not have +happened. Tell me, for God's sake, what will Russia, our mother +Russia, say to our being so frightened, and why are we abandoning +our good and gallant Fatherland to such rabble and implanting feelings +of hatred and shame in all our subjects? What are we scared at and +of whom are we afraid? I am not to blame that the Minister is +vacillating, a coward, dense, dilatory, and has all bad qualities. The +whole army bewails it and calls down curses upon him... + +CHAPTER VI + +Among the innumerable categories applicable to the phenomena of +human life one may discriminate between those in which substance +prevails and those in which form prevails. To the latter- as +distinguished from village, country, provincial, or even Moscow +life- we may allot Petersburg life, and especially the life of its +salons. That life of the salons is unchanging. Since the year 1805 +we had made peace and had again quarreled with Bonaparte and had +made constitutions and unmade them again, but the salons of Anna +Pavlovna Helene remained just as they had been- the one seven and +the other five years before. At Anna Pavlovna's they talked with +perplexity of Bonaparte's successes just as before and saw in them and +in the subservience shown to him by the European sovereigns a +malicious conspiracy, the sole object of which was to cause +unpleasantness and anxiety to the court circle of which Anna +Pavlovna was the representative. And in Helene's salon, which +Rumyantsev himself honored with his visits, regarding Helene as a +remarkably intelligent woman, they talked with the same ecstasy in +1812 as in 1808 of the "great nation" and the "great man," and +regretted our rupture with France, a rupture which, according to them, +ought to be promptly terminated by peace. + +Of late, since the Emperor's return from the army, there had been +some excitement in these conflicting salon circles and some +demonstrations of hostility to one another, but each camp retained its +own tendency. In Anna Pavlovna's circle only those Frenchmen were +admitted who were deep-rooted legitimists, and patriotic views were +expressed to the effect that one ought not to go to the French theater +and that to maintain the French troupe was costing the government as +much as a whole army corps. The progress of the war was eagerly +followed, and only the reports most flattering to our army were +circulated. In the French circle of Helene and Rumyantsev the +reports of the cruelty of the enemy and of the war were contradicted +and all Napoleon's attempts at conciliation were discussed. In that +circle they discountenanced those who advised hurried preparations for +a removal to Kazan of the court and the girls' educational +establishments under the patronage of the Dowager Empress. In Helene's +circle the war in general was regarded as a series of formal +demonstrations which would very soon end in peace, and the view +prevailed expressed by Bilibin- who now in Petersburg was quite at +home in Helene's house, which every clever man was obliged to visit- +that not by gunpowder but by those who invented it would matters be +settled. In that circle the Moscow enthusiasm- news of which had +reached Petersburg simultaneously with the Emperor's return- was +ridiculed sarcastically and very cleverly, though with much caution. + +Anna Pavlovna's circle on the contrary was enraptured by this +enthusiasm and spoke of it as Plutarch speaks of the deeds of the +ancients. Prince Vasili, who still occupied his former important +posts, formed a connecting link between these two circles. He +visited his "good friend Anna Pavlovna" as well as his daughter's +"diplomatic salon," and often in his constant comings and goings +between the two camps became confused and said at Helene's what he +should have said at Anna Pavlovna's and vice versa. + +Soon after the Emperor's return Prince Vasili in a conversation +about the war at Anna Pavlovna's severely condemned Barclay de +Tolly, but was undecided as to who ought to be appointed commander +in chief. One of the visitors, usually spoken of as "a man of great +merit," having described how he had that day seen Kutuzov, the newly +chosen chief of the Petersburg militia, presiding over the +enrollment of recruits at the Treasury, cautiously ventured to suggest +that Kutuzov would be the man to satisfy all requirements. + +Anna Pavlovna remarked with a melancholy smile that Kutuzov had done +nothing but cause the Emperor annoyance. + +"I have talked and talked at the Assembly of the Nobility," Prince +Vasili interrupted, "but they did not listen to me. I told them his +election as chief of the militia would not please the Emperor. They +did not listen to me. + +"It's all this mania for opposition," he went on. "And who for? It +is all because we want to ape the foolish enthusiasm of those +Muscovites," Prince Vasili continued, forgetting for a moment that +though at Helene's one had to ridicule the Moscow enthusiasm, at +Anna Pavlovna's one had to be ecstatic about it. But he retrieved +his mistake at once. "Now, is it suitable that Count Kutuzov, the +oldest general in Russia, should preside at that tribunal? He will get +nothing for his pains! How could they make a man commander in chief +who cannot mount a horse, who drops asleep at a council, and has the +very worst morals! A good reputation he made for himself at Bucharest! +I don't speak of his capacity as a general, but at a time like this +how they appoint they appoint a decrepit, blind old man, positively +blind? A fine idea to have a blind general! He can't see anything. +To play blindman's bluff? He can't see at all!" + +No one replied to his remarks. + +This was quite correct on the twenty-fourth of July. But on the +twenty-ninth of July Kutuzov received the title of Prince. This +might indicate a wish to get rid of him, and therefore Prince Vasili's +opinion continued to be correct though he was not now in any hurry +to express it. But on the eighth of August a committee, consisting +of Field Marshal Saltykov, Arakcheev, Vyazmitinov, Lopukhin, and +Kochubey met to consider the progress of the war. This committee +came to the conclusion that our failures were due to a want of unity +in the command and though the members of the committee were aware of +the Emperor's dislike of Kutuzov, after a short deliberation they +agreed to advise his appointment as commander in chief. That same +day Kutuzov was appointed commander in chief with full powers over the +armies and over the whole region occupied by them. + +On the ninth of August Prince Vasili at Anna Pavlovna's again met +the "man of great merit." The latter was very attentive to Anna +Pavlovna because he wanted to be appointed director of one of the +educational establishments for young ladies. Prince Vasili entered the +room with the air of a happy conqueror who has attained the object +of his desires. + +"Well, have you heard the great news? Prince Kutuzov is field +marshal! All dissensions are at an end! I am so glad, so delighted! At +last we have a man!" said he, glancing sternly and significantly round +at everyone in the drawing room. + +The "man of great merit," despite his desire to obtain the post of +director, could not refrain from reminding Prince Vasili of his former +opinion. Though this was impolite to Prince Vasili in Anna +Pavlovna's drawing room, and also to Anna Pavlovna herself who had +received the news with delight, he could not resist the temptation. + +"But, Prince, they say he is blind!" said he, reminding Prince +Vasili of his own words. + +"Eh? Nonsense! He sees well enough," said Prince Vasili rapidly, +in a deep voice and with a slight cough- the voice and cough with +which he was wont to dispose of all difficulties. + +"He sees well enough," he added. "And what I am so pleased about," +he went on, "is that our sovereign has given him full powers over +all the armies and the whole region- powers no commander in chief ever +had before. He is a second autocrat," he concluded with a victorious +smile. + +"God grant it! God grant it!" said Anna Pavlovna. + +The "man of great merit," who was still a novice in court circles, +wishing to flatter Anna Pavlovna by defending her former position on +this question, observed: + +"It is said that the Emperor was reluctant to give Kutuzov those +powers. They say he blushed like a girl to whom Joconde is read, +when he said to Kutuzov: 'Your Emperor and the Fatherland award you +this honor.' + +"Perhaps the heart took no part in that speech," said Anna Pavlovna. + +"Oh, no, no!" warmly rejoined Prince Vasili, who would not now yield +Kutuzov to anyone; in his opinion Kutuzov was not only admirable +himself, but was adored by everybody. "No, that's impossible," said +he, "for our sovereign appreciated him so highly before." + +"God grant only that Prince Kutuzov assumes real power and does +not allow anyone to put a spoke in his wheel," observed Anna Pavlovna. + +Understanding at once to whom she alluded, Prince Vasili said in a +whisper: + +"I know for a fact that Kutuzov made it an absolute condition that +the Tsarevich should not be with the army. Do you know what he said to +the Emperor?" + +And Prince Vasili repeated the words supposed to have been spoken by +Kutuzov to the Emperor. "I can neither punish him if he does wrong nor +reward him if he does right." + +"Oh, a very wise man is Prince Kutuzov! I have known him a long +time!" + +"They even say," remarked the "man of great merit" who did not yet +possess courtly tact, "that his excellency made it an express +condition that the sovereign himself should not be with the army." + +As soon as he said this both Prince Vasili and Anna Pavlovna +turned away from him and glanced sadly at one another with a sigh at +his naivete. + +CHAPTER VII + +While this was taking place in Petersburg the French had already +passed Smolensk and were drawing nearer and nearer to Moscow. +Napoleon's historian Thiers, like other of his historians, trying to +justify his hero says that he was drawn to the walls of Moscow against +his will. He is as right as other historians who look for the +explanation of historic events in the will of one man; he is as +right as the Russian historians who maintain that Napoleon was drawn +to Moscow by the skill of the Russian commanders. Here besides the law +of retrospection, which regards all the past as a preparation for +events that subsequently occur, the law of reciprocity comes in, +confusing the whole matter. A good chessplayer having lost a game is +sincerely convinced that his loss resulted from a mistake he made +and looks for that mistake in the opening, but forgets that at each +stage of the game there were similar mistakes and that none of his +moves were perfect. He only notices the mistake to which he pays +attention, because his opponent took advantage of it. How much more +complex than this is the game of war, which occurs under certain +limits of time, and where it is not one will that manipulates lifeless +objects, but everything results from innumerable conflicts of +various wills! + +After Smolensk Napoleon sought a battle beyond Dorogobuzh at Vyazma, +and then at Tsarevo-Zaymishche, but it happened that owing to a +conjunction of innumerable circumstances the Russians could not give +battle till they reached Borodino, seventy miles from Moscow. From +Vyazma Napoleon ordered a direct advance on Moscow. + +Moscou, la capitale asiatique de ce grand empire, la ville sacree +des peuples d'Alexandre, Moscou avec ses innombrables eglises en forme +de pagodes chinoises,~^ this Moscow gave Napoleon's imagination no +rest. On the march from Vyazma to Tsarevo-Zaymishche he rode his light +bay bobtailed ambler accompanied by his Guards, his bodyguard, his +pages, and aides-de-camp. Berthier, his chief of staff, dropped behind +to question a Russian prisoner captured by the cavalry. Followed by +Lelorgne d'Ideville, an interpreter, he overtook Napoleon at a +gallop and reined in his horse with an amused expression. + +^~ "Moscow, the Asiatic capital of this great empire, the sacred +city of Alexander's people, Moscow with its innumerable churches +shaped like Chinese pagodas." + +"Well?" asked Napoleon. + +"One of Platov's Cossacks says that Platov's corps is joining up +with the main army and that Kutuzov has been appointed commander in +chief. He is a very shrewd and garrulous fellow." + +Napoleon smiled and told them to give the Cossack a horse and +bring the man to him. He wished to talk to him himself. Several +adjutants galloped off, and an hour later, Lavrushka, the serf Denisov +had handed over to Rostov, rode up to Napoleon in an orderly's +jacket and on a French cavalry saddle, with a merry, and tipsy face. +Napoleon told him to ride by his side and began questioning him. + +"You are a Cossack?" + +"Yes, a Cossack, your Honor." + +"The Cossack, not knowing in what company he was, for Napoleon's +plain appearance had nothing about it that would reveal to an Oriental +mind the presence of a monarch, talked with extreme familiarity of the +incidents of the war," says Thiers, narrating this episode. In reality +Lavrushka, having got drunk the day before and left his master +dinnerless, had been whipped and sent to the village in quest of +chickens, where he engaged in looting till the French took him +prisoner. Lavrushka was one of those coarse, bare-faced lackeys who +have seen all sorts of things, consider it necessary to do +everything in a mean and cunning way, are ready to render any sort +of service to their master, and are keen at guessing their master's +baser impulses, especially those prompted by vanity and pettiness. + +Finding himself in the company of Napoleon, whose identity he had +easily and surely recognized, Lavrushka was not in the least abashed +but merely did his utmost to gain his new master's favor. + +He knew very well that this was Napoleon, but Napoleon's presence +could no more intimidate him than Rostov's, or a sergeant major's with +the rods, would have done, for he had nothing that either the sergeant +major or Napoleon could deprive him of. + +So he rattled on, telling all the gossip he had heard among the +orderlies. Much of it true. But when Napoleon asked him whether the +Russians thought they would beat Bonaparte or not, Lavrushka screwed +up his eyes and considered. + +In this question he saw subtle cunning, as men of his type see +cunning in everything, so he frowned and did not answer immediately. + +"It's like this," he said thoughtfully, "if there's a battle soon, +yours will win. That's right. But if three days pass, then after that, +well, then that same battle will not soon be over." + +Lelorgne d'Ideville smilingly interpreted this speech to Napoleon +thus: "If a battle takes place within the next three days the French +will win, but if later, God knows what will happen." Napoleon did +not smile, though he was evidently in high good humor, and he +ordered these words to be repeated. + +Lavrushka noticed this and to entertain him further, pretending +not to know who Napoleon was, added: + +"We know that you have Bonaparte and that he has beaten everybody in +the world, but we are a different matter..."- without knowing why or +how this bit of boastful patriotism slipped out at the end. + +The interpreter translated these words without the last phrase, +and Bonaparte smiled. "The young Cossack made his mighty +interlocutor smile," says Thiers. After riding a few paces in silence, +Napoleon turned to Berthier and said he wished to see how the news +that he was talking to the Emperor himself, to that very Emperor who +had written his immortally victorious name on the Pyramids, would +affect this enfant du Don.~^ + +^~ "Child of the Don." + +The fact was accordingly conveyed to Lavrushka. + +Lavrushka, understanding that this was done to perplex him and +that Napoleon expected him to be frightened, to gratify his new +masters promptly pretended to be astonished and awe-struck, opened his +eyes wide, and assumed the expression he usually put on when taken +to be whipped. "As soon as Napoleon's interpreter had spoken," says +Thiers, "the Cossack, seized by amazement, did not utter another word, +but rode on, his eyes fixed on the conqueror whose fame had reached +him across the steppes of the East. All his loquacity was suddenly +arrested and replaced by a naive and silent feeling of admiration. +Napoleon, after making the Cossack a present, had him set free like +a bird restored to its native fields." + +Napoleon rode on, dreaming of the Moscow that so appealed to his +imagination, and "the bird restored to its native fields" galloped +to our outposts, inventing on the way all that had not taken place but +that he meant to relate to his comrades. What had really taken place +he did not wish to relate because it seemed to him not worth +telling. He found the Cossacks, inquired for the regiment operating +with Platov's detachment and by evening found his master, Nicholas +Rostov, quartered at Yankovo. Rostov was just mounting to go for a +ride round the neighboring villages with Ilyin; he let Lavrushka +have another horse and took him along with him. + +CHAPTER VIII + +Princess Mary was not in Moscow and out of danger as Prince Andrew +supposed. + +After the return of Alpatych from Smolensk the old prince suddenly +seemed to awake as from a dream. He ordered the militiamen to be +called up from the villages and armed, and wrote a letter to the +commander in chief informing him that he had resolved to remain at +Bald Hills to the last extremity and to defend it, leaving to the +commander in chief's discretion to take measures or not for the +defense of Bald Hills, where one of Russia's oldest generals would +be captured or killed, and he announced to his household that he would +remain at Bald Hills. + +But while himself remaining, he gave instructions for the +departure of the princess and Dessalles with the little prince to +Bogucharovo and thence to Moscow. Princess Mary, alarmed by her +father's feverish and sleepless activity after his previous apathy, +could not bring herself to leave him alone and for the first time in +her life ventured to disobey him. She refused to go away and her +father's fury broke over her in a terrible storm. He repeated every +injustice he had ever inflicted on her. Trying to convict her, he told +her she had worn him out, had caused his quarrel with his son, had +harbored nasty suspicions of him, making it the object of her life +to poison his existence, and he drove her from his study telling her +that if she did not go away it was all the same to him. He declared +that he did not wish to remember her existence and warned her not to +dare to let him see her. The fact that he did not, as she had +feared, order her to be carried away by force but only told her not to +let him see her cheered Princess Mary. She knew it was a proof that in +the depth of his soul he was glad she was remaining at home and had +not gone away. + +The morning after little Nicholas had left, the old prince donned +his full uniform and prepared to visit the commander in chief. His +caleche was already at the door. Princess Mary saw him walk out of the +house in his uniform wearing all his orders and go down the garden +to review his armed peasants and domestic serfs. She sat by the window +listening to his voice which reached her from the garden. Suddenly +several men came running up the avenue with frightened faces. + +Princess Mary ran out to the porch, down the flower-bordered path, +and into the avenue. A large crowd of militiamen and domestics were +moving toward her, and in their midst several men were supporting by +the armpits and dragging along a little old man in a uniform and +decorations. She ran up to him and, in the play of the sunlight that +fell in small round spots through the shade of the lime-tree avenue, +could not be sure what change there was in his face. All she could see +was that his former stern and determined expression had altered to one +of timidity and submission. On seeing his daughter he moved his +helpless lips and made a hoarse sound. It was impossible to make out +what he wanted. He was lifted up, carried to his study, and laid on +the very couch he had so feared of late. + +The doctor, who was fetched that same night, bled him and said +that the prince had had seizure a paralyzing his right side. + +It was becoming more and more dangerous to remain at Bald Hills, and +next day they moved the prince to Bogucharovo, the doctor accompanying +him. + +By the time they reached Bogucharovo, Dessalles and the little +prince had already left for Moscow. + +For three weeks the old prince lay stricken by paralysis in the +new house Prince Andrew had built at Bogucharovo, ever in the same +state, getting neither better nor worse. He was unconscious and lay +like a distorted corpse. He muttered unceasingly, his eyebrows and +lips twitching, and it was impossible to tell whether he understood +what was going on around him or not. One thing was certain- that he +was suffering and wished to say something. But what it was, no one +could tell: it might be some caprice of a sick and half-crazy man, +or it might relate to public affairs, or possibly to family concerns. + +The doctor said this restlessness did not mean anything and was +due to physical causes; but Princess Mary thought he wished to tell +her something, and the fact that her presence always increased his +restlessness confirmed her opinion. + +He was evidently suffering both physically and mentally. There was +no hope of recovery. It was impossible for him to travel, it would not +do to let him die on the road. "Would it not be better if the end +did come, the very end?" Princess Mary sometimes thought. Night and +day, hardly sleeping at all, she watched him and, terrible to say, +often watched him not with hope of finding signs of improvement but +wishing to find symptoms of the approach of the end. + +Strange as it was to her to acknowledge this feeling in herself, yet +there it was. And what seemed still more terrible to her was that +since her father's illness began (perhaps even sooner, when she stayed +with him expecting something to happen), all the personal desires +and hopes that had been forgotten or sleeping within her had awakened. +Thoughts that had not entered her mind for years- thoughts of a life +free from the fear of her father, and even the possibility of love and +of family happiness- floated continually in her imagination like +temptations of the devil. Thrust them aside as she would, questions +continually recurred to her as to how she would order her life now, +after that. These were temptations of the devil and Princess Mary knew +it. She knew that the sole weapon against him was prayer, and she +tried to pray. She assumed an attitude of prayer, looked at the icons, +repeated the words of a prayer, but she could not pray. She felt +that a different world had now taken possession of her- the life of +a world of strenuous and free activity, quite opposed to the spiritual +world in which till now she had been confined and in which her +greatest comfort had been prayer. She could not pray, could not +weep, and worldly cares took possession of her. + +It was becoming dangerous to remain in Bogucharovo. News of the +approach of the French came from all sides, and in one village, ten +miles from Bogucharovo, a homestead had been looted by French +marauders. + +The doctor insisted on the necessity of moving the prince; the +provincial Marshal of the Nobility sent an official to Princess Mary +to persuade her to get away as quickly as possible, and the head of +the rural police having come to Bogucharovo urged the same thing, +saying that the French were only some twenty-five miles away, that +French proclamations were circulating in the villages, and that if the +princess did not take her father away before the fifteenth, he could +not answer for the consequences. + +The princess decided to leave on the fifteenth. The cares of +preparation and giving orders, for which everyone came to her, +occupied her all day. She spent the night of the fourteenth as +usual, without undressing, in the room next to the one where the +prince lay. Several times, waking up, she heard his groans and +muttering, the creak of his bed, and the steps of Tikhon and the +doctor when they turned him over. Several times she listened at the +door, and it seemed to her that his mutterings were louder than +usual and that they turned him over oftener. She could not sleep and +several times went to the door and listened, wishing to enter but +not deciding to do so. Though he did not speak, Princess Mary saw +and knew how unpleasant every sign of anxiety on his account was to +him. She had noticed with what dissatisfaction he turned from the look +she sometimes involuntarily fixed on him. She knew that her going in +during the night at an unusual hour would irritate him. + +But never had she felt so grieved for him or so much afraid of +losing him. She recalled all her life with him and in every word and +act of his found an expression of his love of her. Occasionally amid +these memories temptations of the devil would surge into her +imagination: thoughts of how things would be after his death, and +how her new, liberated life would be ordered. But she drove these +thoughts away with disgust. Toward morning he became quiet and she +fell asleep. + +She woke late. That sincerity which often comes with waking showed +her clearly what chiefly concerned her about her father's illness. +On waking she listened to what was going on behind the door and, +hearing him groan, said to herself with a sigh that things were +still the same. + +"But what could have happened? What did I want? I want his death!" +she cried with a feeling of loathing for herself. + +She washed, dressed, said her prayers, and went out to the porch. In +front of it stood carriages without horses and things were being +packed into the vehicles. + +It was a warm, gray morning. Princess Mary stopped at the porch, +still horrified by her spiritual baseness and trying to arrange her +thoughts before going to her father. The doctor came downstairs and +went out to her. + +"He is a little better today," said he. "I was looking for you. +One can make out something of what he is saying. His head is +clearer. Come in, he is asking for you..." + +Princess Mary's heart beat so violently at this news that she grew +pale and leaned against the wall to keep from falling. To see him, +talk to him, feel his eyes on her now that her whole soul was +overflowing with those dreadful, wicked temptations, was a torment +of joy and terror. + +"Come," said the doctor. + +Princess Mary entered her father's room and went up to his bed. He +was lying on his back propped up high, and his small bony hands with +their knotted purple veins were lying on the quilt; his left eye gazed +straight before him, his right eye was awry, and his brows and lips +motionless. He seemed altogether so thin, small, and pathetic. His +face seemed to have shriveled or melted; his features had grown +smaller. Princess Mary went up and kissed his hand. His left hand +pressed hers so that she understood that he had long been waiting +for her to come. He twitched her hand, and his brows and lips quivered +angrily. + +She looked at him in dismay trying to guess what he wanted of her. +When she changed her position so that his left eye could see her +face he calmed down, not taking his eyes off her for some seconds. +Then his lips and tongue moved, sounds came, and he began to speak, +gazing timidly and imploringly at her, evidently afraid that she might +not understand. + +Straining all her faculties Princess Mary looked at him. The comic +efforts with which he moved his tongue made her drop her eyes and with +difficulty repress the sobs that rose to her throat. He said +something, repeating the same words several times. She could not +understand them, but tried to guess what he was saying and inquiringly +repeated the words he uttered. + +"Mmm...ar...ate...ate..." he repeated several times. + +It was quite impossible to understand these sounds. The doctor +thought he had guessed them, and inquiringly repeated: "Mary, are +you afraid?" The prince shook his head, again repeated the same +sounds. + +"My mind, my mind aches?" questioned Princess Mary. + +He made a mumbling sound in confirmation of this, took her hand, and +began pressing it to different parts of his breast as if trying to +find the right place for it. + +"Always thoughts... about you... thoughts..." he then uttered much +more clearly than he had done before, now that he was sure of being +understood. + +Princess Mary pressed her head against his hand, trying to hide +her sobs and tears. + +He moved his hand over her hair. + +"I have been calling you all night..." he brought out. + +"If only I had known..." she said through her tears. "I was afraid +to come in." + +He pressed her hand. + +"Weren't you asleep?" + +"No, I did not sleep," said Princess Mary, shaking her head. + +Unconsciously imitating her father, she now tried to express herself +as he did, as much as possible by signs, and her tongue too seemed +to move with difficulty. + +"Dear one... Dearest..." Princess Mary could not quite make out what +he had said, but from his look it was clear that he had uttered a +tender caressing word such as he had never used to her before. "Why +didn't you come in?" + +"And I was wishing for his death!" thought Princess Mary. + +He was silent awhile. + +"Thank you... daughter dear!... for all, for all... forgive!... +thank you!... forgive!... thank you!..." and tears began to flow +from his eyes. "Call Andrew!" he said suddenly, and a childish, +timid expression of doubt showed itself on his face as he spoke. + +He himself seemed aware that his demand was meaningless. So at least +it seemed to Princess Mary. + +"I have a letter from him," she replied. + +He glanced at her with timid surprise. + +"Where is he?" + +"He's with the army, Father, at Smolensk." + +He closed his eyes and remained silent a long time. Then as if in +answer to his doubts and to confirm the fact that now he understood +and remembered everything, he nodded his head and reopened his eyes. + +"Yes," he said, softly and distinctly. "Russia has perished. They've +destroyed her." + +And he began to sob, and again tears flowed from his eyes. +Princess Mary could no longer restrain herself and wept while she +gazed at his face. + +Again he closed his eyes. His sobs ceased, he pointed to his eyes, +and Tikhon, understanding him, wiped away the tears. + +Then he again opened his eyes and said something none of them +could understand for a long time, till at last Tikhon understood and +repeated it. Princess Mary had sought the meaning of his words in +the mood in which he had just been speaking. She thought he was +speaking of Russia, or Prince Andrew, of herself, of his grandson, +or of his own death, and so she could not guess his words. + +"Put on your white dress. I like it," was what he said. + +Having understood this Princess Mary sobbed still louder, and the +doctor taking her arm led her out to the veranda, soothing her and +trying to persuade her to prepare for her journey. When she had left +the room the prince again began speaking about his son, about the war, +and about the Emperor, angrily twitching his brows and raising his +hoarse voice, and then he had a second and final stroke. + +Princess Mary stayed on the veranda. The day had cleared, it was hot +and sunny. She could understand nothing, think of nothing and feel +nothing, except passionate love for her father, love such as she +thought she had never felt till that moment. She ran out sobbing +into the garden and as far as the pond, along the avenues of young +lime trees Prince Andrew had planted. + +"Yes... I... I... I wished for his death! Yes, I wanted it to end +quicker.... I wished to be at peace.... And what will become of me? +What use will peace be when he is no longer here?" Princess Mary +murmured, pacing the garden with hurried steps and pressing her +hands to her bosom which heaved with convulsive sobs. + +When she had completed the tour of the garden, which brought her +again to the house, she saw Mademoiselle Bourienne- who had remained +at Bogucharovo and did not wish to leave it- coming toward her with +a stranger. This was the Marshal of the Nobility of the district, +who had come personally to point out to the princess the necessity for +her prompt departure. Princess Mary listened without understanding +him; she led him to the house, offered him lunch, and sat down with +him. Then, excusing herself, she went to the door of the old +prince's room. The doctor came out with an agitated face and said +she could not enter. + +"Go away, Princess! Go away... go away!" + +She returned to the garden and sat down on the grass at the foot +of the slope by the pond, where no one could see her. She did not know +how long she had been there when she was aroused by the sound of a +woman's footsteps running along the path. She rose and saw Dunyasha +her maid, who was evidently looking for her, and who stopped +suddenly as if in alarm on seeing her mistress. + +"Please come, Princess... The Prince," said Dunyasha in a breaking +voice. + +"Immediately, I'm coming, I'm coming!" replied the princess +hurriedly, not giving Dunyasha time to finish what she was saying, and +trying to avoid seeing the girl she ran toward the house. + +"Princess, it's God's will! You must be prepared for everything," +said the Marshal, meeting her at the house door. + +"Let me alone; it's not true!" she cried angrily to him. + +The doctor tried to stop her. She pushed him aside and ran to her +father's door. "Why are these people with frightened faces stopping +me? I don't want any of them! And what are they doing here?" she +thought. She opened the door and the bright daylight in that +previously darkened room startled her. In the room were her nurse +and other women. They all drew back from the bed, making way for +her. He was still lying on the bed as before, but the stern expression +of his quiet face made Princess Mary stop short on the threshold. + +"No, he's not dead- it's impossible!" she told herself and +approached him, and repressing the terror that seized her, she pressed +her lips to his cheek. But she stepped back immediately. All the force +of the tenderness she had been feeling for him vanished instantly +and was replaced by a feeling of horror at what lay there before +her. "No, he is no more! He is not, but here where he was is something +unfamiliar and hostile, some dreadful, terrifying, and repellent +mystery!" And hiding her face in her hands, Princess Mary sank into +the arms of the doctor, who held her up. + +In the presence of Tikhon and the doctor the women washed what had +been the prince, tied his head up with a handkerchief that the mouth +should not stiffen while open, and with another handkerchief tied +together the legs that were already spreading apart. Then they dressed +him in uniform with his decorations and placed his shriveled little +body on a table. Heaven only knows who arranged all this and when, but +it all got done as if of its own accord. Toward night candles were +burning round his coffin, a pall was spread over it, the floor was +strewn with sprays of juniper, a printed band was tucked in under +his shriveled head, and in a corner of the room sat a chanter +reading the psalms. + +Just as horses shy and snort and gather about a dead horse, so the +inmates of the house and strangers crowded into the drawing room round +the coffin- the Marshal, the village Elder, peasant women- and all +with fixed and frightened eyes, crossing themselves, bowed and +kissed the old prince's cold and stiffened hand. + +CHAPTER IX + +Until Prince Andrew settled in Bogucharovo its owners had always +been absentees, and its peasants were of quite a different character +from those of Bald Hills. They differed from them in speech, dress, +and disposition. They were called steppe peasants. The old prince used +to approve of them for their endurance at work when they came to +Bald Hills to help with the harvest or to dig ponds, and ditches, +but he disliked them for their boorishness. + +Prince Andrew's last stay at Bogucharovo, when he introduced +hospitals and schools and reduced the quitrent the peasants had to +pay, had not softened their disposition but had on the contrary +strengthened in them the traits of character the old prince called +boorishness. Various obscure rumors were always current among them: at +one time a rumor that they would all be enrolled as Cossacks; at +another of a new religion to which they were all to be converted; then +of some proclamation of the Tsar's and of an oath to the Tsar Paul +in 1797 (in connection with which it was rumored that freedom had been +granted them but the landowners had stopped it), then of Peter +Fedorovich's return to the throne in seven years' time, when +everything would be made free and so "simple" that there would be no +restrictions. Rumors of the war with Bonaparte and his invasion were +connected in their minds with the same sort of vague notions of +Antichrist, the end of the world, and "pure freedom." + +In the vicinity of Bogucharovo were large villages belonging to +the crown or to owners whose serfs paid quitrent and could work +where they pleased. There were very few resident landlords in the +neighborhood and also very few domestic or literate serfs, and in +the lives of the peasantry of those parts the mysterious undercurrents +in the life of the Russian people, the causes and meaning of which are +so baffling to contemporaries, were more clearly and strongly +noticeable than among others. One instance, which had occurred some +twenty years before, was a movement among the peasants to emigrate +to some unknown "warm rivers." Hundreds of peasants, among them the +Bogucharovo folk, suddenly began selling their cattle and moving in +whole families toward the southeast. As birds migrate to somewhere +beyond the sea, so these men with their wives and children streamed to +the southeast, to parts where none of them had ever been. They set off +in caravans, bought their freedom one by one or ran away, and drove or +walked toward the "warm rivers." Many of them were punished, some sent +to Siberia, many died of cold and hunger on the road, many returned of +their own accord, and the movement died down of itself just as it +had sprung up, without apparent reason. But such undercurrents still +existed among the people and gathered new forces ready to manifest +themselves just as strangely, unexpectedly, and at the same time +simply, naturally, and forcibly. Now in 1812, to anyone living in +close touch with these people it was apparent that these undercurrents +were acting strongly and nearing an eruption. + +Alpatych, who had reached Bogucharovo shortly before the old +prince's death, noticed an agitation among the peasants, and that +contrary to what was happening in the Bald Hills district, where +over a radius of forty miles all the peasants were moving away and +leaving their villages to be devastated by the Cossacks, the +peasants in the steppe region round Bogucharovo were, it was +rumored, in touch with the French, received leaflets from them that +passed from hand to hand, and did not migrate. He learned from +domestic serfs loyal to him that the peasant Karp, who possessed great +influence in the village commune and had recently been away driving +a government transport, had returned with news that the Cossacks +were destroying deserted villages, but that the French did not harm +them. Alpatych also knew that on the previous day another peasant +had even brought from the village of Visloukhovo, which was occupied +by the French, a proclamation by a French general that no harm would +be done to the inhabitants, and if they remained they would be paid +for anything taken from them. As proof of this the peasant had brought +from Visloukhovo a hundred rubles in notes (he did not know that +they were false) paid to him in advance for hay. + +More important still, Alpatych learned that on the morning of the +very day he gave the village Elder orders to collect carts to move the +princess' luggage from Bogucharovo, there had been a village meeting +at which it had been decided not to move but to wait. Yet there was no +time to waste. On the fifteenth, the day of the old prince's death, +the Marshal had insisted on Princess Mary's leaving at once, as it was +becoming dangerous. He had told her that after the sixteenth he +could not be responsible for what might happen. On the evening of +the day the old prince died the Marshal went away, promising to return +next day for the funeral. But this he was unable to do, for he +received tidings that the French had unexpectedly advanced, and had +barely time to remove his own family and valuables from his estate. + +For some thirty years Bogucharovo had been managed by the village +Elder, Dron, whom the old prince called by the diminutive "Dronushka." + +Dron was one of those physically and mentally vigorous peasants +who grow big beards as soon as they are of age and go on unchanged +till they are sixty or seventy, without a gray hair or the loss of a +tooth, as straight and strong at sixty as at thirty. + +Soon after the migration to the "warm rivers," in which he had taken +part like the rest, Dron was made village Elder and overseer of +Bogucharovo, and had since filled that post irreproachably for +twenty-three years. The peasants feared him more than they did their +master. The masters, both the old prince and the young, and the +steward respected him and jestingly called him "the Minister." +During the whole time of his service Dron had never been drunk or ill, +never after sleepless nights or the hardest tasks had he shown the +least fatigue, and though he could not read he had never forgotten a +single money account or the number of quarters of flour in any of +the endless cartloads he sold for the prince, nor a single shock of +the whole corn crop on any single acre of the Bogucharovo fields. + +Alpatych, arriving from the devastated Bald Hills estate, sent for +his Dron on the day of the prince's funeral and told him to have +twelve horses got ready for the princess' carriages and eighteen carts +for the things to be removed from Bogucharovo. Though the peasants +paid quitrent, Alpatych thought no difficulty would be made about +complying with this order, for there were two hundred and thirty +households at work in Bogucharovo and the peasants were well to do. +But on hearing the order Dron lowered his eyes and remained silent. +Alpatych named certain peasants he knew, from whom he told him to take +the carts. + +Dron replied that the horses of these peasants were away carting. +Alpatych named others, but they too, according to Dron, had no +horses available: some horses were carting for the government, +others were too weak, and others had died for want of fodder. It +seemed that no horses could be had even for the carriages, much less +for the carting. + +Alpatych looked intently at Dron and frowned. Just as Dron was a +model village Elder, so Alpatych had not managed the prince's +estates for twenty years in vain. He a model steward, possessing in +the highest degree the faculty of divining the needs and instincts +of those he dealt with. Having glanced at Dron he at once understood +that his answers did not express his personal views but the general +mood of the Bogucharovo commune, by which the Elder had already been +carried away. But he also knew that Dron, who had acquired property +and was hated by the commune, must be hesitating between the two +camps: the masters' and the serfs'. He noticed this hesitation in +Dron's look and therefore frowned and moved closer up to him. + +"Now just listen, Dronushka," said he. "Don't talk nonsense to me. +His excellency Prince Andrew himself gave me orders to move all the +people away and not leave them with the enemy, and there is an order +from the Tsar about it too. Anyone who stays is a traitor to the Tsar. +Do you hear?" + +"I hear," Dron answered without lifting his eyes. + +Alpatych was not satisfied with this reply. + +"Eh, Dron, it will turn out badly!" he said, shaking his head. + +"The power is in your hands," Dron rejoined sadly. + +"Eh, Dron, drop it!" Alpatych repeated, withdrawing his hand from +his bosom and solemnly pointing to the floor at Dron's feet. "I can +see through you and three yards into the ground under you," he +continued, gazing at the floor in front of Dron. + +Dron was disconcerted, glanced furtively at Alpatych and again +lowered his eyes. + +"You drop this nonsense and tell the people to get ready to leave +their homes and go to Moscow and to get carts ready for tomorrow +morning for the princess' things. And don't go to any meeting +yourself, do you hear?" + +Dron suddenly fell on his knees. + +"Yakov Alpatych, discharge me! Take the keys from me and discharge +me, for Christ's sake!" + +"Stop that!" cried Alpatych sternly. "I see through you and three +yards under you," he repeated, knowing that his skill in beekeeping, +his knowledge of the right time to sow the oats, and the fact that +he had been able to retain the old prince's favor for twenty years had +long since gained him the reputation of being a wizard, and that the +power of seeing three yards under a man is considered an attribute +of wizards. + +Dron got up and was about to say something, but Alpatych interrupted +him. + +"What is it you have got into your heads, eh?... What are you +thinking of, eh?" + +"What am I to do with the people?" said Dron. "They're quite +beside themselves; I have already told them..." + +"'Told them,' I dare say!" said Alpatych. "Are they drinking?" he +asked abruptly. + +"Quite beside themselves, Yakov Alpatych; they've fetched another +barrel." + +"Well, then, listen! I'll go to the police officer, and you tell +them so, and that they must stop this and the carts must be got +ready." + +"I understand." + +Alpatych did not insist further. He had managed people for a long +time and knew that the chief way to make them obey is to show no +suspicion that they can possibly disobey. Having wrung a submissive "I +understand" from Dron, Alpatych contented himself with that, though he +not only doubted but felt almost certain that without the help of +troops the carts would not be forthcoming. + +And so it was, for when evening came no carts had been provided. +In the village, outside the drink shop, another meeting was being +held, which decided that the horses should be driven out into the +woods and the carts should not be provided. Without saying anything of +this to the princess, Alpatych had his own belongings taken out of the +carts which had arrived from Bald Hills and had those horses got ready +for the princess' carriages. Meanwhile he went himself to the police +authorities. + +CHAPTER X + +After her father's funeral Princess Mary shut herself up in her room +and did not admit anyone. A maid came to the door to say that Alpatych +was asking for orders about their departure. (This was before his talk +with Dron.) Princess Mary raised herself on the sofa on which she +had been lying and replied through the closed door that she did not +mean to go away and begged to be left in peace. + +The windows of the room in which she was lying looked westward. +She lay on the sofa with her face to the wall, fingering the buttons +of the leather cushion and seeing nothing but that cushion, and her +confused thoughts were centered on one subject- the irrevocability +of death and her own spiritual baseness, which she had not +suspected, but which had shown itself during her father's illness. She +wished to pray but did not dare to, dared not in her present state +of mind address herself to God. She lay for a long time in that +position. + +The sun had reached the other side of the house, and its slanting +rays shone into the open window, lighting up the room and part of +the morocco cushion at which Princess Mary was looking. The flow of +her thoughts suddenly stopped. Unconsciously she sat up, smoothed +her hair, got up, and went to the window, involuntarily inhaling the +freshness of the clear but windy evening. + +"Yes, you can well enjoy the evening now! He is gone and no one will +hinder you," she said to herself, and sinking into a chair she let her +head fall on the window sill. + +Someone spoke her name in a soft and tender voice from the garden +and kissed her head. She looked up. It was Mademoiselle Bourienne in a +black dress and weepers. She softly approached Princess Mary, +sighed, kissed her, and immediately began to cry. The princess +looked up at her. All their former disharmony and her own jealousy +recurred to her mind. But she remembered too how he had changed of +late toward Mademoiselle Bourienne and could not bear to see her, +thereby showing how unjust were the reproaches Princess Mary had +mentally addressed to her. "Besides, is it for me, for me who +desired his death, to condemn anyone?" she thought. + +Princess Mary vividly pictured to herself the position of +Mademoiselle Bourienne, whom she had of late kept at a distance, but +who yet was dependent on her and living in her house. She felt sorry +for her and held out her hand with a glance of gentle inquiry. +Mademoiselle Bourienne at once began crying again and kissed that +hand, speaking of the princess' sorrow and making herself a partner in +it. She said her only consolation was the fact that the princess +allowed her to share her sorrow, that all the old misunderstandings +should sink into nothing but this great grief; that she felt herself +blameless in regard to everyone, and that he, from above, saw her +affection and gratitude. The princess heard her, not heeding her words +but occasionally looking up at her and listening to the sound of her +voice. + +"Your position is doubly terrible, dear princess," said Mademoiselle +Bourienne after a pause. "I understand that you could not, and cannot, +think of yourself, but with my love for you I must do so.... Has +Alpatych been to you? Has he spoken to you of going away?" she asked. + +Princess Mary did not answer. She did not understand who was to go +or where to. "Is it possible to plan or think of anything now? Is it +not all the same?" she thought, and did not reply. + +"You know, chere Marie," said Mademoiselle Bourienne, "that we are +in danger- are surrounded by the French. It would be dangerous to move +now. If we go we are almost sure to be taken prisoners, and God +knows..." + +Princess Mary looked at her companion without understanding what she +was talking about. + +"Oh, if anyone knew how little anything matters to me now," she +said. "Of course I would on no account wish to go away from him.... +Alpatych did say something about going.... Speak to him; I can do +nothing, nothing, and don't want to...." + +"I've spoken to him. He hopes we should be in time to get away +tomorrow, but I think it would now be better to stay here," said +Mademoiselle Bourienne. "Because, you will agree, chere Marie, to fall +into the hands of the soldiers or of riotous peasants would be +terrible." + +Mademoiselle Bourienne took from her reticule a proclamation (not +printed on ordinary Russian paper) of General Rameau's, telling people +not to leave their homes and that the French authorities would +afford them proper protection. She handed this to the princess. + +"I think it would be best to appeal to that general," she continued, +"and and am sure that all due respect would be shown you." + +Princess Mary read the paper, and her face began to quiver with +stifled sobs. + +"From whom did you get this?" she asked. + +"They probably recognized that I am French, by my name," replied +Mademoiselle Bourienne blushing. + +Princess Mary, with the paper in her hand, rose from the window +and with a pale face went out of the room and into what had been +Prince Andrew's study. + +"Dunyasha, send Alpatych, or Dronushka, or somebody to me!" she +said, "and tell Mademoiselle Bourienne not to come to me," she +added, hearing Mademoiselle Bourienne's voice. "We must go at once, at +once!" she said, appalled at the thought of being left in the hands of +the French. + +"If Prince Andrew heard that I was in the power of the French! +That I, the daughter of Prince Nicholas Bolkonski, asked General +Rameau for protection and accepted his favor!" This idea horrified +her, made her shudder, blush, and feel such a rush of anger and +pride as she had never experienced before. All that was distressing, +and especially all that was humiliating, in her position rose +vividly to her mind. "They, the French, would settle in this house: M. +le General Rameau would occupy Prince Andrew's study and amuse himself +by looking through and reading his letters and papers. Mademoiselle +Bourienne would do the honors of Bogucharovo for him. I should be +given a small room as a favor, the soldiers would violate my +father's newly dug grave to steal his crosses and stars, they would +tell me of their victories over the Russians, and would pretend to +sympathize with my sorrow..." thought Princess Mary, not thinking +her own thoughts but feeling bound to think like her father and her +brother. For herself she did not care where she remained or what +happened to her, but she felt herself the representative of her dead +father and of Prince Andrew. Involuntarily she thought their +thoughts and felt their feelings. What they would have said and what +they would have done she felt bound to say and do. She went into +Prince Andrew's study, trying to enter completely into his ideas, +and considered her position. + +The demands of life, which had seemed to her annihilated by her +father's death, all at once rose before her with a new, previously +unknown force and took possession of her. + +Agitated and flushed she paced the room, sending now for Michael +Ivanovich and now for Tikhon or Dron. Dunyasha, the nurse, and the +other maids could not say in how far Mademoiselle Bourienne's +statement was correct. Alpatych was not at home, he had gone to the +police. Neither could the architect Michael Ivanovich, who on being +sent for came in with sleepy eyes, tell Princess Mary anything. With +just the same smile of agreement with which for fifteen years he had +been accustomed to answer the old prince without expressing views of +his own, he now replied to Princess Mary, so that nothing definite +could be got from his answers. The old valet Tikhon, with sunken, +emaciated face that bore the stamp of inconsolable grief, replied: +"Yes, Princess" to all Princess Mary's questions and hardly +refrained from sobbing as he looked at her. + +At length Dron, the village Elder, entered the room and with a +deep bow to Princess Mary came to a halt by the doorpost. + +Princess Mary walked up and down the room and stopped in front of +him. + +"Dronushka," she said, regarding as a sure friend this Dronushka who +always used to bring a special kind of gingerbread from his visit to +the fair at Vyazma every year and smilingly offer it to her, +"Dronushka, now since our misfortune..." she began, but could not go +on. + +"We are all in God's hands," said he, with a sigh. + +They were silent for a while. + +"Dronushka, Alpatych has gone off somewhere and I have no one to +turn to. Is true, as they tell me, that I can't even go away?" + +"Why shouldn't you go away, your excellency? You can go," said Dron. + +"I was told it would be dangerous because of the enemy. Dear friend, +I can do nothing. I understand nothing. I have nobody! I want to go +away tonight or early tomorrow morning." + +Dron paused. He looked askance at Princess Mary and said: "There are +no horses; I told Yakov Alpatych so." + +"Why are there none?" asked the princess. + +"It's all God's scourge," said Dron. "What horses we had have been +taken for the army or have died- this is such a year! It's not a +case of feeding horses- we may die of hunger ourselves! As it is, some +go three days without eating. We've nothing, we've been ruined." + +Princess Mary listened attentively to what he told her. + +"The peasants are ruined? They have no bread?" she asked. + +"They're dying of hunger," said Dron. "It's not a case of carting." + +"But why didn't you tell me, Dronushka? Isn't it possible to help +them? I'll do all I can...." + +To Princess Mary it was strange that now, at a moment when such +sorrow was filling her soul, there could be rich people and poor, +and the rich could refrain from helping the poor. She had heard +vaguely that there was such a thing as "landlord's corn" which was +sometimes given to the peasants. She also knew that neither her father +nor her brother would refuse to help the peasants in need, she only +feared to make some mistake in speaking about the distribution of +the grain she wished to give. She was glad such cares presented +themselves, enabling her without scruple to forget her own grief. +She began asking Dron about the peasants' needs and what there was +in Bogucharovo that belonged to the landlord. + +"But we have grain belonging to my brother?" she said. + +"The landlord's grain is all safe," replied Dron proudly. "Our +prince did not order it to be sold." + +"Give it to the peasants, let them have all they need; I give you +leave in my brother's name," said she. + +Dron made no answer but sighed deeply. + +"Give them that corn if there is enough of it. Distribute it all. +I give this order in my brother's name; and tell them that what is +ours is theirs. We do not grudge them anything. Tell them so." + +" Dron looked intently at the princess while she was speaking. + +"Discharge me, little mother, for God's sake! Order the keys to be +taken from me," said he. "I have served twenty-three years and have +done no wrong. Discharge me, for God's sake!" + +Princess Mary did not understand what he wanted of her or why he was +asking to be discharged. She replied that she had never doubted his +devotion and that she was ready to do anything for him and for the +peasants. + +CHAPTER XI + +An hour later Dunyasha came to tell the princess that Dron had come, +and all the peasants had assembled at the barn by the princess' +order and wished to have word with their mistress. + +"But I never told them to come," said Princess Mary. "I only told +Dron to let them have the grain." + +"Only, for God's sake, Princess dear, have them sent away and +don't go out to them. It's all a trick," said Dunyasha, "and when +Yakov Alpatych returns let us get away... and please don't..." + +"What is a trick?" asked Princess Mary in surprise. + +"I know it is, only listen to me for God's sake! Ask nurse too. They +say they don't agree to leave Bogucharovo as you ordered." + +"You're making some mistake. I never ordered them to go away," +said Princess Mary. "Call Dronushka." + +Dron came and confirmed Dunyasha's words; the peasants had come by +the princess' order. + +"But I never sent for them," declared the princess. "You must have +given my message wrong. I only said that you were to give them the +grain." + +Dron only sighed in reply. + +"If you order it they will go away," said he. + +"No, no. I'll go out to them," said Princess Mary, and in spite of +the nurse's and Dunyasha's protests she went out into the porch; Dron, +Dunyasha, the nurse, and Michael Ivanovich following her. + +"They probably think I am offering them the grain to bribe them to +remain here, while I myself go away leaving them to the mercy of the +French," thought Princess Mary. "I will offer them monthly rations and +housing at our Moscow estate. I am sure Andrew would do even more in +my place," she thought as she went out in the twilight toward the +crowd standing on the pasture by the barn. + +The men crowded closer together, stirred, and rapidly took off their +hats. Princess Mary lowered her eyes and, tripping over her skirt, +came close up to them. So many different eyes, old and young, were +fixed on her, and there were so many different faces, that she could +not distinguish any of them and, feeling that she must speak to them +all at once, did not know how to do it. But again the sense that she +represented her father and her brother gave her courage, and she +boldly began her speech. + +"I am very glad you have come," she said without raising her eyes, +and feeling her heart beating quickly and violently. "Dronushka +tells me that the war has ruined you. That is our common misfortune, +and I shall grudge nothing to help you. I am myself going away because +it is dangerous here... the enemy is near... because... I am giving +you everything, my friends, and I beg you to take everything, all +our grain, so that you may not suffer want! And if you have been +told that I am giving you the grain to keep you here- that is not +true. On the contrary, I ask you to go with all your belongings to our +estate near Moscow, and I promise you I will see to it that there +you shall want for nothing. You shall be given food and lodging." + +The princess stopped. Sighs were the only sound heard in the crowd. + +"I am not doing this on my own account," she continued, "I do it +in the name of my dead father, who was a good master to you, and of my +brother and his son." + +Again she paused. No one broke the silence. + +"Ours is a common misfortune and we will share it together. All that +is mine is yours," she concluded, scanning the faces before her. + +All eyes were gazing at her with one and the same expression. She +could not fathom whether it was curiosity, devotion, gratitude, or +apprehension and distrust- but the expression on all the faces was +identical. + +"We are all very thankful for your bounty, but it won't do for us to +take the landlord's grain," said a voice at the back of the crowd. + +"But why not?" asked the princess. + +No one replied and Princess Mary, looking round at the crowd, +found that every eye she met now was immediately dropped. + +"But why don't you want to take it?" she asked again. + +No one answered. + +The silence began to oppress the princess and she tried to catch +someone's eye. + +"Why don't you speak?" she inquired of a very old man who stood just +in front of her leaning on his stick. "If you think something more +is wanted, tell me! I will do anything," said she, catching his eye. + +But as if this angered him, he bent his head quite low and muttered: + +"Why should we agree? We don't want the grain." + +"Why should we give up everything? We don't agree. Don't agree.... +We are sorry for you, but we're not willing. Go away yourself, +alone..." came from various sides of the crowd. + +And again all the faces in that crowd bore an identical +expression, though now it was certainly not an expression of curiosity +or gratitude, but of angry resolve. + +"But you can't have understood me," said Princess Mary with a sad +smile. "Why don't you want to go? I promise to house and feed you, +while here the enemy would ruin you..." + +But her voice was drowned by the voices of the crowd. + +"We're not willing. Let them ruin us! We won't take your grain. We +don't agree." + +Again Princess Mary tried to catch someone's eye, but not a single +eye in the crowd was turned to her; evidently they were all trying +to avoid her look. She felt strange and awkward. + +"Oh yes, an artful tale! Follow her into slavery! Pull down your +houses and go into bondage! I dare say! 'I'll give you grain, indeed!' +she says," voices in the crowd were heard saying. + +With drooping head Princess Mary left the crowd and went back to the +house. Having repeated her order to Dron to have horses ready for +her departure next morning, she went to her room and remained alone +with her own thoughts. + +CHAPTER XII + +For a long time that night Princess Mary sat by the open window of +her room hearing the sound of the peasants' voices that reached her +from the village, but it was not of them she was thinking. She felt +that she could not understand them however much she might think +about them. She thought only of one thing, her sorrow, which, after +the break caused by cares for the present, seemed already to belong to +the past. Now she could remember it and weep or pray. + +After sunset the wind had dropped. The night was calm and fresh. +Toward midnight the voices began to subside, a cock crowed, the full +moon began to show from behind the lime trees, a fresh white dewy mist +began to rise, and stillness reigned over the village and the house. + +Pictures of the near past- her father's illness and last moments- +rose one after another to her memory. With mournful pleasure she now +lingered over these images, repelling with horror only the last one, +the picture of his death, which she felt she could not contemplate +even in imagination at this still and mystic hour of night. And +these pictures presented themselves to her so clearly and in such +detail that they seemed now present, now past, and now future. + +She vividly recalled the moment when he had his first stroke and was +being dragged along by his armpits through the garden at Bald Hills, +muttering something with his helpless tongue, twitching his gray +eyebrows and looking uneasily and timidly at her. + +"Even then he wanted to tell me what he told me the day he died," +she thought. "He had always thought what he said then." And she +recalled in all its detail the night at Bald Hills before he had the +last stroke, when with a foreboding of disaster she had remained at +home against his will. She had not slept and had stolen downstairs +on tiptoe, and going to the door of the conservatory where he slept +that night had listened at the door. In a suffering and weary voice he +was saying something to Tikhon, speaking of the Crimea and its warm +nights and of the Empress. Evidently he had wanted to talk. "And why +didn't he call me? Why didn't he let me be there instead of Tikhon?" +Princess Mary had thought and thought again now. "Now he will never +tell anyone what he had in his soul. Never will that moment return for +him or for me when he might have said all he longed to say, and not +Tikhon but I might have heard and understood him. Why didn't I enter +the room?" she thought. "Perhaps he would then have said to me what he +said the day he died. While talking to Tikhon he asked about me twice. +He wanted to see me, and I was standing close by, outside the door. It +was sad and painful for him to talk to Tikhon who did not understand +him. I remember how he began speaking to him about Lise as if she were +alive- he had forgotten she was dead- and Tikhon reminded him that she +was no more, and he shouted, 'Fool!' He was greatly depressed. From +behind the door I heard how he lay down on his bed groaning and loudly +exclaimed, 'My God!' Why didn't I go in then? What could he have +done to me? What could I have lost? And perhaps he would then have +been comforted and would have said that word to me." And Princess Mary +uttered aloud the caressing word he had said to her on the day of +his death. "Dear-est!" she repeated, and began sobbing, with tears +that relieved her soul. She now saw his face before her. And not the +face she had known ever since she could remember and had always seen +at a distance, but the timid, feeble face she had seen for the first +time quite closely, with all its wrinkles and details, when she +stooped near to his mouth to catch what he said. + +"Dear-est!" she repeated again. + +"What was he thinking when he uttered that word? What is he thinking +now?" This question suddenly presented itself to her, and in answer +she saw him before her with the expression that was on his face as +he lay in his coffin with his chin bound up with a white handkerchief. +And the horror that had seized her when she touched him and +convinced herself that that was not he, but something mysterious and +horrible, seized her again. She tried to think of something else and +to pray, but could do neither. With wide-open eyes she gazed at the +moonlight and the shadows, expecting every moment to see his dead +face, and she felt that the silence brooding over the house and within +it held her fast. + +"Dunyasha," she whispered. "Dunyasha!" she screamed wildly, and +tearing herself out of this silence she ran to the servants' +quarters to meet her old nurse and the maidservants who came running +toward her. + +CHAPTER XIII + +On the seventeenth of August Rostov and Ilyin, accompanied by +Lavrushka who had just returned from captivity and by an hussar +orderly, left their quarters at Yankovo, ten miles from Bogucharovo, +and went for a ride- to try a new horse Ilyin had bought and to find +out whether there was any hay to be had in the villages. + +For the last three days Bogucharovo had lain between the two hostile +armies, so that it was as easy for the Russian rearguard to get to +it as for the French vanguard; Rostov, as a careful squadron +commander, wished to take such provisions as remained at Bogucharovo +before the French could get them. + +Rostov and Ilyin were in the merriest of moods. On the way to +Bogucharovo, a princely estate with a dwelling house and farm where +they hoped to find many domestic serfs and pretty girls, they +questioned Lavrushka about Napoleon and laughed at his stories, and +raced one another to try Ilyin's horse. + +Rostov had no idea that the village he was entering was the property +of that very Bolkonski who had been engaged to his sister. + +Rostov and Ilyin gave rein to their horses for a last race along the +incline before reaching Bogucharovo, and Rostov, outstripping Ilyin, +was the first to gallop into the village street. + +"You're first!" cried Ilyin, flushed. + +"Yes, always first both on the grassland and here," answered Rostov, +stroking his heated Donets horse. + +"And I'd have won on my Frenchy, your excellency," said Lavrushka +from behind, alluding to his shabby cart horse, "only I didn't wish to +mortify you. + +They rode at a footpace to the barn, where a large crowd of peasants +was standing. + +Some of the men bared their heads, others stared at the new arrivals +without doffing their caps. Two tall old peasants with wrinkled +faces and scanty beards emerged from the tavern, smiling, +staggering, and singing some incoherent song, and approached the +officers. + +"Fine fellows!" said Rostov laughing. "Is there any hay here?" + +"And how like one another," said Ilyin. + +"A mo-o-st me-r-r-y co-o-m-pa...!" sang one of the peasants with a +blissful smile. + +One of the men came out of the crowd and went up to Rostov. + +"Who do you belong to?" he asked. + +"The French," replied Ilyin jestingly, "and here is Napoleon +himself"- and he pointed to Lavrushka. + +"Then you are Russians?" the peasant asked again. + +"And is there a large force of you here?" said another, a short man, +coming up. + +"Very large," answered Rostov. "But why have you collected here?" he +added. "Is it a holiday?" + +"The old men have met to talk over the business of the commune," +replied the peasant, moving away. + +At that moment, on the road leading from the big house, two women +and a man in a white hat were seen coming toward the officers. + +"The one in pink is mine, so keep off!" said Ilyin on seeing +Dunyasha running resolutely toward him. + +"She'll be ours!" said Lavrushka to Ilyin, winking. + +"What do you want, my pretty?" said Ilyin with a smile. + +"The princess ordered me to ask your regiment and your name." + +"This is Count Rostov, squadron commander, and I am your humble +servant." + +"Co-o-om-pa-ny!" roared the tipsy peasant with a beatific smile as +he looked at Ilyin talking to the girl. Following Dunyasha, Alpatych +advanced to Rostov, having bared his head while still at a distance. + +"May I make bold to trouble your honor?" said he respectfully, but +with a shade of contempt for the youthfulness of this officer and with +a hand thrust into his bosom. "My mistress, daughter of General in +Chief Prince Nicholas Bolkonski who died on the fifteenth of this +month, finding herself in difficulties owing to the boorishness of +these people"- he pointed to the peasants- "asks you to come up to the +house.... Won't you, please, ride on a little farther," said +Alpatych with a melancholy smile, "as it is not convenient in the +presence of...?" He pointed to the two peasants who kept as close to +him as horseflies to a horse. + +"Ah!... Alpatych... Ah, Yakov Alpatych... Grand! Forgive us for +Christ's sake, eh?" said the peasants, smiling joyfully at him. + +Rostov looked at the tipsy peasants and smiled. + +"Or perhaps they amuse your honor?" remarked Alpatych with a staid +air, as he pointed at the old men with his free hand. + +"No, there's not much to be amused at here," said Rostov, and rode +on a little way. "What's the matter?" he asked. + +"I make bold to inform your honor that the rude peasants here +don't wish to let the mistress leave the estate, and threaten to +unharness her horses, so that though everything has been packed up +since morning, her excellency cannot get away." + +"Impossible!" exclaimed Rostov. + +"I have the honor to report to you the actual truth," said Alpatych. + +Rostov dismounted, gave his horse to the orderly, and followed +Alpatych to the house, questioning him as to the state of affairs. +It appeared that the princess' offer of corn to the peasants the +previous day, and her talk with Dron and at the meeting, had +actually had so bad an effect that Dron had finally given up the +keys and joined the peasants and had not appeared when Alpatych sent +for him; and that in the morning when the princess gave orders to +harness for her journey, the peasants had come in a large crowd to the +barn and sent word that they would not let her leave the village: that +there was an order not to move, and that they would unharness the +horses. Alpatych had gone out to admonish them, but was told (it was +chiefly Karp who did the talking, Dron not showing himself in the +crowd) that they could not let the princess go, that there was an +order to the contrary, but that if she stayed they would serve her +as before and obey her in everything. + +At the moment when Rostov and Ilyin were galloping along the road, +Princess Mary, despite the dissuasions of Alpatych, her nurse, and the +maids, had given orders to harness and intended to start, but when the +cavalrymen were espied they were taken for Frenchmen, the coachman ran +away, and the women in the house began to wail. + +"Father! Benefactor! God has sent you!" exclaimed deeply moved +voices as Rostov passed through the anteroom. + +Princess Mary was sitting helpless and bewildered in the large +sitting room, when Rostov was shown in. She could not grasp who he was +and why he had come, or what was happening to her. When she saw his +Russian face, and by his walk and the first words he uttered +recognized him as a man of her own class, she glanced at him with +her deep radiant look and began speaking in a voice that faltered +and trembled with emotion. This meeting immediately struck Rostov as a +romantic event. "A helpless girl overwhelmed with grief, left to the +mercy of coarse, rioting peasants! And what a strange fate sent me +here! What gentleness and nobility there are in her features and +expression!" thought he as he looked at her and listened to her +timid story. + +When she began to tell him that all this had happened the day +after her father's funeral, her voiced trembled. She turned away, +and then, as if fearing he might take her words as meant to move him +to pity, looked at him with an apprehensive glance of inquiry. There +were tears in Rostov's eyes. Princess Mary noticed this and glanced +gratefully at him with that radiant look which caused the plainness of +her face to be forgotten. + +"I cannot express, Princess, how glad I am that I happened to ride +here and am able to show my readiness to serve you," said Rostov, +rising. "Go when you please, and I give you my word of honor that no +one shall dare to cause you annoyance if only you will allow me to act +as your escort." And bowing respectfully, as if to a lady of royal +blood, he moved toward the door. + +Rostov's deferential tone seemed to indicate that though he would +consider himself happy to be acquainted with her, he did not wish to +take advantage of her misfortunes to intrude upon her. + +Princess Mary understood this and appreciated his delicacy. + +"I am very, very grateful to you," she said in French, "but I hope +it was all a misunderstanding and that no one is to blame for it." She +suddenly began to cry. + +"Excuse me!" she said. + +Rostov, knitting his brows, left the room with another low bow. + +CHAPTER XIV + +Well, is she pretty? Ah, friend- my pink one is delicious; her +name is Dunyasha...." + +But on glancing at Rostov's face Ilyin stopped short. He saw that +his hero and commander was following quite a different train of +thought. + +Rostov glanced angrily at Ilyin and without replying strode off with +rapid steps to the village. + +"I'll show them; I'll give it to them, the brigands!" said he to +himself. + +Alpatych at a gliding trot, only just managing not to run, kept up +with him with difficulty. + +"What decision have you been pleased to come to?" said he. + +Rostov stopped and, clenching his fists, suddenly and sternly turned +on Alpatych. + +"Decision? What decision? Old dotard!..." cried he. "What have you +been about? Eh? The peasants are rioting, and you can't manage them? +You're a traitor youself! I know you. I'll flay you all alive!..." And +as if afraid of wasting his store of anger, he left Alpatych and +went rapidly forward. Alpatych, mastering his offended feelings, +kept pace with Rostov at a gliding gait and continued to impart his +views. He said the peasants were obdurate and that at the present +moment it would be imprudent to "overresist" them without an armed +force, and would it not be better first to send for the military? + +"I'll give them armed force... I'll 'overresist' them!" uttered +Rostov meaninglessly, breathless with irrational animal fury and the +need to vent it. + +Without considering what he would do he moved unconciously with +quick, resolute steps toward the crowd. And the nearer he drew to it +the more Alpatych felt that this unreasonable action might produce +good results. The peasants in the crowd were similarly impressed +when they saw Rostov's rapid, firm steps and resolute, frowning face. + +After the hussars had come to the village and Rostov had gone to see +the princess, a certain confusion and dissension had arisen among +the crowd. Some of the peasants said that these new arrivals were +Russians and might take it amiss that the mistress was being detained. +Dron was of this opinion, but as soon as he expressed it Karp and +others attacked their ex-Elder. + +"How many years have you been fattening on the commune?" Karp +shouted at him. "It's all one to you! You'll dig up your pot of +money and take it away with you.... What does it matter to you whether +our homes are ruined or not?" + +"We've been told to keep order, and that no one is to leave their +homes or take away a single grain, and that's all about it!" cried +another. + +"It was your son's turn to be conscripted, but no fear! You +begrudged your lump of a son," a little old man suddenly began +attacking Dron- "and so they took my Vanka to be shaved for a soldier! +But we all have to die." + +"To be sure, we all have to die. I'm not against the commune," +said Dron. + +"That's it- not against it! You've filled your belly...." + +The two tall peasants had their say. As soon as Rostov, followed +by Ilyin, Lavrushka, and Alpatych, came up to the crowd, Karp, +thrusting his fingers into his belt and smiling a little, walked to +the front. Dron on the contrary retired to the rear and the crowd drew +closer together. + +"Who is your Elder here? Hey?" shouted Rostov, coming up to the +crowd with quick steps. + +"The Elder? What do you want with him?..." asked Karp. + +But before the words were well out of his mouth, his cap flew off +and a fierce blow jerked his head to one side. + +"Caps off, traitors!" shouted Rostov in a wrathful voice. "Where's +the Elder?" he cried furiously. + +"The Elder.... He wants the Elder!... Dron Zakharych, you!" meek and +flustered voices here and there were heard calling and caps began to +come off their heads. + +"We don't riot, we're following the orders," declared Karp, and at +that moment several voices began speaking together. + +"It's as the old men have decided- there's too many of you giving +orders." + +"Arguing? Mutiny!... Brigands! Traitors!" cried Rostov unmeaningly +in a voice not his own, gripping Karp by the collar. "Bind him, bind +him!" he shouted, though there was no one to bind him but Lavrushka +and Alpatych. + +Lavrushka, however, ran up to Karp and seized him by the arms from +behind. + +"Shall I call up our men from beyond the hill?" he called out. + +Alpatych turned to the peasants and ordered two of them by name to +come and bind Karp. The men obediently came out of the crowd and began +taking off their belts. + +"Where's the Elder?" demanded Rostov in a loud voice. + +With a pale and frowning face Dron stepped out of the crowd. + +"Are you the Elder? Bind him, Lavrushka!" shouted Rostov, as if that +order, too, could not possibly meet with any opposition. + +And in fact two more peasants began binding Dron, who took off his +own belt and handed it to them, as if to aid them. + +"And you all listen to me!" said Rostov to the peasants. "Be off +to your houses at once, and don't let one of your voices be heard!" + +"Why, we've not done any harm! We did it just out of foolishness. +It's all nonsense... I said then that it was not in order," voices +were heard bickering with one another. + +"There! What did I say?" said Alpatych, coming into his own again. +"It's wrong, lads!" + +"All our stupidity, Yakov Alpatych," came the answers, and the +crowd began at once to disperse through the village. + +The two bound men were led off to the master's house. The two +drunken peasants followed them. + +"Aye, when I look at you!..." said one of them to Karp. + +"How can one talk to the masters like that? What were you thinking +of, you fool?" added the other- "A real fool!" + +Two hours later the carts were standing in the courtyard of the +Bogucharovo house. The peasants were briskly carrying out the +proprietor's goods and packing them on the carts, and Dron, +liberated at Princess Mary's wish from the cupboard where he had +been confined, was standing in the yard directing the men. + +"Don't put it in so carelessly," said one of the peasants, a man +with a round smiling face, taking a casket from a housemaid. "You know +it has cost money! How can you chuck it in like that or shove it under +the cord where it'll get rubbed? I don't like that way of doing +things. Let it all be done properly, according to rule. Look here, put +it under the bast matting and cover it with hay- that's the way!" + +"Eh, books, books!" said another peasant, bringing out Prince +Andrew's library cupboards. "Don't catch up against it! It's heavy, +lads- solid books." + +"Yes, they worked all day and didn't play!" remarked the tall, +round-faced peasant gravely, pointing with a significant wink at the +dictionaries that were on the top. + +Unwilling to obtrude himself on the princess, Rostov did not go back +to the house but remained in the village awaiting her departure. +When her carriage drove out of the house, he mounted and accompanied +her eight miles from Bogucharovo to where the road was occupied by our +troops. At the inn at Yankovo he respectfully took leave of her, for +the first time permitting himself to kiss her hand. + +"How can you speak so!" he blushingly replied to Princess Mary's +expressions of gratitude for her deliverance, as she termed what had +occurred. "Any police officer would have done as much! If we had had +only peasants to fight, we should not have let the enemy come so far," +said he with a sense of shame and wishing to change the subject. "I am +only happy to have had the opportunity of making your acquaintance. +Good-by, Princess. I wish you happiness and consolation and hope to +meet you again in happier circumstances. If you don't want to make +me blush, please don't thank me!" + +But the princess, if she did not again thank him in words, thanked +him with the whole expression of her face, radiant with gratitude +and tenderness. She could not believe that there was nothing to +thank him for. On the contrary, it seemed to her certain that had he +not been there she would have perished at the hands of the mutineers +and of the French, and that he had exposed himself to terrible and +obvious danger to save her, and even more certain was it that he was a +man of lofty and noble soul, able to understand her position and her +sorrow. His kind, honest eyes, with the tears rising in them when +she herself had begun to cry as she spoke of her loss, did leave her +memory. + +When she had taken leave of him and remained alone she suddenly felt +her eyes filling with tears, and then not for the first time the +strange question presented itself to her: did she love him? + +On the rest of the way to Moscow, though the princess' position +was not a cheerful one, Dunyasha, who went with her in the carriage, +more than once noticed that her mistress leaned out of the window +and smiled at something with an expression of mingled joy and sorrow. + +"Well, supposing I do love him?" thought Princess Mary. + +Ashamed as she was of acknowledging to herself that she had fallen +in love with a man who would perhaps never love her, she comforted +herself with the thought that no one would ever know it and that she +would not be to blame if, without ever speaking of it to anyone, she +continued to the end of her life to love the man with whom she had +fallen in love for the first and last time in her life. + +Sometimes when she recalled his looks, his sympathy, and his +words, happiness did not appear impossible to her. It was at those +moments that Dunyasha noticed her smiling as she looked out of the +carriage window. + +"Was it not fate that brought him to Bogucharovo, and at that very +moment?" thought Princess Mary. "And that caused his sister to +refuse my brother?" And in all this Princess Mary saw the hand of +Providence. + +The impression the princess made on Rostov was a very agreeable one. +To remember her gave him pleasure, and when his comrades, hearing of +his adventure at Bogucharovo, rallied him on having gone to look for +hay and having picked up one of the wealthiest heiresses in Russia, he +grew angry. It made him angry just because the idea of marrying the +gentle Princess Mary, who was attractive to him and had an enormous +fortune, had against his will more than once entered his head. For +himself personally Nicholas could not wish for a better wife: by +marrying her he would make the countess his mother happy, would be +able to put his father's affairs in order, and would even- he felt it- +ensure Princess Mary's happiness. + +But Sonya? And his plighted word? That was why Rostov grew angry +when he was rallied about Princess Bolkonskaya. + +CHAPTER XV + +On receiving command of the armies Kutuzov remembered Prince +Andrew and sent an order for him to report at headquarters. + +Prince Andrew arrived at Tsarevo-Zaymishche on the very day and at +the very hour that Kutuzov was reviewing the troops for the first +time. He stopped in the village at the priest's house in front of +which stood the commander in chief's carriage, and he sat down on +the bench at the gate awaiting his Serene Highness, as everyone now +called Kutuzov. From the field beyond the village came now sounds of +regimental music and now the roar of many voices shouting "Hurrah!" to +the new commander in chief. Two orderlies, a courier and a major-domo, +stood near by, some ten paces from Prince Andrew, availing +themselves of Kutuzov's absence and of the fine weather. A short, +swarthy lieutenant colonel of hussars with thick mustaches and +whiskers rode up to the gate and, glancing at Prince Andrew, +inquired whether his Serene Highness was putting up there and +whether he would soon be back. + +Prince Andrew replied that he was not on his Serene Highness' +staff but was himself a new arrival. The lieutenant colonel turned +to a smart orderly, who, with the peculiar contempt with which a +commander in chief's orderly speaks to officers, replied: + +"What? His Serene Highness? I expect he'll be here soon. What do you +want?" + +The lieutenant colonel of hussars smiled beneath his mustache at the +orderly's tone, dismounted, gave his horse to a dispatch runner, and +approached Bolkonski with a slight bow. Bolkonski made room for him on +the bench and the lieutenant colonel sat down beside him. + +"You're also waiting for the commander in chief?" said he. "They say +he weceives evewyone, thank God!... It's awful with those sausage +eaters! Ermolov had weason to ask to be pwomoted to be a German! Now +p'waps Wussians will get a look in. As it was, devil only knows what +was happening. We kept wetweating and wetweating. Did you take part in +the campaign?" he asked. + +"I had the pleasure," replied Prince Andrew, "not only of taking +part in the retreat but of losing in that retreat all I held dear- not +to mention the estate and home of my birth- my father, who died of +grief. I belong to the province of Smolensk." + +"Ah? You're Pwince Bolkonski? Vewy glad to make your acquaintance! +I'm Lieutenant Colonel Denisov, better known as 'Vaska,'" said +Denisov, pressing Prince Andrew's hand and looking into his face +with a particularly kindly attention. "Yes, I heard," said he +sympathetically, and after a short pause added: "Yes, it's Scythian +warfare. It's all vewy well- only not for those who get it in the +neck. So you are Pwince Andwew Bolkonski?" He swayed his head. "Vewy +pleased, Pwince, to make your acquaintance!" he repeated again, +smiling sadly, and he again pressed Prince Andrew's hand. + +Prince Andrew knew Denisov from what Natasha had told him of her +first suitor. This memory carried him sadly and sweetly back to +those painful feelings of which he had not thought lately, but which +still found place in his soul. Of late he had received so many new and +very serious impressions- such as the retreat from Smolensk, his visit +to Bald Hills, and the recent news of his father's death- and had +experienced so many emotions, that for a long time past those memories +had not entered his mind, and now that they did, they did not act on +him with nearly their former strength. For Denisov, too, the +memories awakened by the name of Bolkonski belonged to a distant, +romantic past, when after supper and after Natasha's singing he had +proposed to a little girl of fifteen without realizing what he was +doing. He smiled at the recollection of that time and of his love +for Natasha, and passed at once to what now interested him +passionately and exclusively. This was a plan of campaign he had +devised while serving at the outposts during the retreat. He had +proposed that plan to Barclay de Tolly and now wished to propose it to +Kutuzov. The plan was based on the fact that the French line of +operation was to extended, and it proposed that instead of, or +concurrently with, action on the front to bar the advance of the +French, we should attack their line of communication. He began +explaining his plan to Prince Andrew. + +"They can't hold all that line. It's impossible. I will undertake to +bweak thwough. Give me five hundwed men and I will bweak the line, +that's certain! There's only one way- guewilla warfare!" + +Denisov rose and began gesticulating as he explained his plan to +Bolkonski. In the midst of his explanation shouts were heard from +the army, growing more incoherent and more diffused, mingling with +music and songs and coming from the field where the review was held. +Sounds of hoofs and shouts were nearing the village. + +"He's coming! He's coming!" shouted a Cossack standing at the gate. + +Bolkonski and Denisov moved to the gate, at which a knot of soldiers +(a guard of honor) was standing, and they saw Kutuzov coming down +the street mounted on a rather small sorrel horse. A huge suite of +generals rode behind him. Barclay was riding almost beside him, and +a crowd of officers ran after and around them shouting, "Hurrah!" + +His adjutants galloped into the yard before him. Kutuzov was +impatiently urging on his horse, which ambled smoothly under his +weight, and he raised his hand to his white Horse Guard's cap with a +red band and no peak, nodding his head continually. When he came up to +the guard of honor, a fine set of Grenadiers mostly wearing +decorations, who were giving him the salute, he looked at them +silently and attentively for nearly a minute with the steady gaze of a +commander and then turned to the crowd of generals and officers +surrounding him. Suddenly his face assumed a subtle expression, he +shrugged his shoulders with an air of perplexity. + +"And with such fine fellows to retreat and retreat! Well, good-by, +General," he added, and rode into the yard past Prince Andrew and +Denisov. + +"Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!" shouted those behind him. + +Since Prince Andrew had last seen him Kutuzov had grown still more +corpulent, flaccid, and fat. But the bleached eyeball, the scar, and +the familiar weariness of his expression were still the same. He was +wearing the white Horse Guard's cap and a military overcoat with a +whip hanging over his shoulder by a thin strap. He sat heavily and +swayed limply on his brisk little horse. + +"Whew... whew... whew!" he whistled just audibly as he rode into the +yard. His face expressed the relief of relaxed strain felt by a man +who means to rest after a ceremony. He drew his left foot out of the +stirrup and, lurching with his whole body and puckering his face +with the effort, raised it with difficulty onto the saddle, leaned +on his knee, groaned, and slipped down into the arms of the Cossacks +and adjutants who stood ready to assist him. + +He pulled himself together, looked round, screwing up his eyes, +glanced at Prince Andrew, and, evidently not recognizing him, moved +with his waddling gait to the porch. "Whew... whew... whew!" he +whistled, and again glanced at Prince Andrew. As often occurs with old +men, it was only after some seconds that the impression produced by +Prince Andrew's face linked itself up with Kutuzov's remembrance of +his personality. + +"Ah, how do you do, my dear prince? How do you do, my dear boy? Come +along..." said he, glancing wearily round, and he stepped onto the +porch which creaked under his weight. + +He unbuttoned his coat and sat down on a bench in the porch. + +"And how's your father?" + +"I received news of his death, yesterday," replied Prince Andrew +abruptly. + +Kutuzov looked at him with eyes wide open with dismay and then +took off his cap and crossed himself: + +"May the kingdom of Heaven be his! God's will be done to us all!" He +sighed deeply, his whole chest heaving, and was silent for a while. "I +loved him and respected him, and sympathize with you with all my +heart." + +He embraced Prince Andrew, pressing him to his fat breast, and for +some time did not let him go. When he released him Prince Andrew saw +that Kutuzov's flabby lips were trembling and that tears were in his +eyes. He sighed and pressed on the bench with both hands to raise +himself. + +"Come! Come with me, we'll have a talk," said he. + +But at that moment Denisov, no more intimidated by his superiors +than by the enemy, came with jingling spurs up the steps of the porch, +despite the angry whispers of the adjutants who tried to stop him. +Kutuzov, his hands still pressed on the seat, glanced at him glumly. +Denisov, having given his name, announced that he had to communicate +to his Serene Highness a matter of great importance for their +country's welfare. Kutuzov looked wearily at him and, lifting his +hands with a gesture of annoyance, folded them across his stomach, +repeating the words: "For our country's welfare? Well, what is it? +Speak!" Denisov blushed like a girl (it was strange to see the color +rise in that shaggy, bibulous, time-worn face) and boldly began to +expound his plan of cutting the enemy's lines of communication between +Smolensk and Vyazma. Denisov came from those parts and knew the +country well. His plan seemed decidedly a good one, especially from +the strength of conviction with which he spoke. Kutuzov looked down at +his own legs, occasionally glancing at the door of the adjoining hut +as if expecting something unpleasant to emerge from it. And from +that hut, while Denisov was speaking, a general with a portfolio under +his arm really did appear. + +"What?" said Kutuzov, in the midst of Denisov's explanations, "are +you ready so soon?" + +"Ready, your Serene Highness," replied the general. + +Kutuzov swayed his head, as much as to say: "How is one man to +deal with it all?" and again listened to Denisov. + +"I give my word of honor as a Wussian officer," said Denisov, +"that I can bweak Napoleon's line of communication!" + +"What relation are you to Intendant General Kiril Andreevich +Denisov?" asked Kutuzov, interrupting him. + +"He is my uncle, your Sewene Highness." + +"Ah, we were friends," said Kutuzov cheerfully. "All right, all +right, friend, stay here at the staff and tomorrow we'll have a talk." + +With a nod to Denisov he turned away and put out his hand for the +papers Konovnitsyn had brought him. + +"Would not your Serene Highness like to come inside?" said the +general on duty in a discontented voice, "the plans must be examined +and several papers have to be signed." + +An adjutant came out and announced that everything was in +readiness within. But Kutuzov evidently did not wish to enter that +room till he was disengaged. He made a grimace... + +"No, tell them to bring a small table out here, my dear boy. I'll +look at them here," said he. "Don't go away," he added, turning to +Prince Andrew, who remained in the porch and listened to the general's +report. + +While this was being given, Prince Andrew heard the whisper of a +woman's voice and the rustle of a silk dress behind the door. +Several times on glancing that way he noticed behind that door a +plump, rosy, handsome woman in a pink dress with a lilac silk kerchief +on her head, holding a dish and evidently awaiting the entrance of the +commander in chief. Kutiizov's adjutant whispered to Prince Andrew +that this was the wife of the priest whose home it was, and that she +intended to offer his Serene Highness bread and salt. "Her husband has +welcomed his Serene Highness with the cross at the church, and she +intends to welcome him in the house.... She's very pretty," added +the adjutant with a smile. At those words Kutuzov looked round. He was +listening to the general's report- which consisted chiefly of a +criticism of the position at Tsarevo-Zaymishche- as he had listened to +Denisov, and seven years previously had listened to the discussion +at the Austerlitz council of war. He evidently listened only because +he had ears which, though there was a piece of tow in one of them, +could not help hearing; but it was evident that nothing the general +could say would surprise or even interest him, that he knew all that +would be said beforehand, and heard it all only because he had to, +as one has to listen to the chanting of a service of prayer. All +that Denisov had said was clever and to the point. What the general +was saying was even more clever and to the point, but it was evident +that Kutuzov despised knowledge and cleverness, and knew of +something else that would decide the matter- something independent +of clever. ness and knowledge. Prince Andrew watched the commander +in chief's face attentively, and the only expression he could see +there was one of boredom, curiosity as to the meaning of the +feminine whispering behind the door, and a desire to observe +propriety. It was evident that Kutuzov despised cleverness and +learning and even the patriotic feeling shown by Denisov, but despised +them not because of his own intellect, feelings, or knowledge- he +did not try to display any of these- but because of something else. He +despised them because of his old age and experience of life. The +only instruction Kutuzov gave of his own accord during that report +referred to looting by the Russian troops. At the end of the report +the general put before him for signature a paper relating to the +recovery of payment from army commanders for green oats mown down by +the soldiers, when landowners lodged petitions for compensation. + +After hearing the matter, Kutuzov smacked his lips together and +shook his head. + +"Into the stove... into the fire with it! I tell you once for all, +my dear fellow," said he, "into the fire with all such things! Let +them cut the crops and burn wood to their hearts' content. I don't +order it or allow it, but I don't exact compensation either. One can't +get on without it. 'When wood is chopped the chips will fly.'" He +looked at the paper again. "Oh, this German precision!" he muttered, +shaking his head. + +CHAPTER XVI + +"Well, that's all!" said Kutuzov as he signed the last of the +documents, and rising heavily and smoothing out the folds in his fat +white neck he moved toward the door with a more cheerful expression. + +The priest's wife, flushing rosy red, caught up the dish she had +after all not managed to present at the right moment, though she had +so long been preparing for it, and with a low bow offered it to +Kutuzov. + +He screwed up his eyes, smiled, lifted her chin with his hand, and +said: + +"Ah, what a beauty! Thank you, sweetheart!" + +He took some gold pieces from his trouser pocket and put them on the +dish for her. "Well, my dear, and how are we getting on?" he asked, +moving to the door of the room assigned to him. The priest's wife +smiled, and with dimples in her rosy cheeks followed him into the +room. The adjutant came out to the porch and asked Prince Andrew to +lunch with him. Half an hour later Prince Andrew was again called to +Kutuzov. He found him reclining in an armchair, still in the same +unbuttoned overcoat. He had in his hand a French book which he +closed as Prince Andrew entered, marking the place with a knife. +Prince Andrew saw by the cover that it was Les Chevaliers du Cygne +by Madame de Genlis. + +"Well, sit down, sit down here. Let's have a talk," said Kutuzov. +"It's sad, very sad. But remember, my dear fellow, that I am a +father to you, a second father...." + +Prince Andrew told Kutuzov all he knew of his father's death, and +what he had seen at Bald Hills when he passed through it. + +"What... what they have brought us to!" Kutuzov suddenly cried in an +agitated voice, evidently picturing vividly to himself from Prince +Andrew's story the condition Russia was in. "But give me time, give me +time!" he said with a grim look, evidently not wishing to continue +this agitating conversation, and added: "I sent for you to keep you +with me." + +"I thank your Serene Highness, but I fear I am longer fit for the +staff," replied Prince Andrew with a smile which Kutuzov noticed. + +Kutuzov glanced inquiringly at him. + +"But above all," added Prince Andrew, "I have grown used to my +regiment, am fond of the officers, and I fancy the men also like me. I +should be sorry to leave the regiment. If I decline the honor of being +with you, believe me..." + +A shrewd, kindly, yet subtly derisive expression lit up Kutuzov's +podgy face. He cut Bolkonski short. + +"I am sorry, for I need you. But you're right, you're right! It's +not here that men are needed. Advisers are always plentiful, but men +are not. The regiments would not be what they are if the would-be +advisers served there as you do. I remember you at Austerlitz.... I +remember, yes, I remember you with the standard!" said Kutuzov, and +a flush of pleasure suffused Prince Andrew's face at this +recollection. + +Taking his hand and drawing him downwards, Kutuzov offered his cheek +to be kissed, and again Prince Andrew noticed tears in the old man's +eyes. Though Prince Andrew knew that Kutuzov's tears came easily, +and that he was particularly tender to and considerate of him from a +wish to show sympathy with his loss, yet this reminder of Austerlitz +was both pleasant and flattering to him. + +"Go your way and God be with you. I know your path is the path of +honor!" He paused. "I missed you at Bucharest, but I needed someone to +send." And changing the subject, Kutuzov began to speak of the Turkish +war and the peace that had been concluded. "Yes, I have been much +blamed," he said, "both for that war and the peace... but everything +came at the right time. Tout vient a point a celui qui sait attendre.~^ +And there were as many advisers there as here..." he went on, +returning to the subject of "advisers" which evidently occupied him. +"Ah, those advisers!" said he. "If we had listened to them all we +should not have made peace with Turkey and should not have been +through with that war. Everything in haste, but more haste, less +speed. Kamenski would have been lost if he had not died. He stormed +fortresses with thirty thousand men. It is not difficult to capture +a fortress but it is difficult to win a campaign. For that, storming +and attacking but patience and time are wanted. Kamenski sent soldiers +to Rustchuk, but I only employed these two things and took more +fortresses than Kamenski and made the but eat horseflesh!" He swayed +his head. "And the French shall too, believe me," he went on, +growing warmer and beating his chest, "I'll make them eat horseflesh!" +And tears again dimmed his eyes. + +^~ "Everything comes in time to him who knows how to wait." + +"But shan't we have to accept battle?" remarked Prince Andrew. + +"We shall if everybody wants it; it can't be helped.... But +believe me, my dear boy, there is nothing stronger than those two: +patience and time, they will do it all. But the advisers n'entendent +pas de cette oreille, voila le mal.~^ Some want a thing- others +don't. What's one to do?" he asked, evidently expecting an answer. +"Well, what do you want us to do?" he repeated and his eye shone +with a deep, shrewd look. "I'll tell you what to do," he continued, as +Prince Andrew still did not reply: "I will tell you what to do, and +what I do. Dans le doute, mon cher," he paused, "abstiens-toi"~^ he +articulated the French proverb deliberately. + +^~ "Don't see it that way, that's the trouble." + +^~ "When in doubt, my dear fellow, do nothing." + +"Well, good-by, my dear fellow; remember that with all my heart I +share your sorrow, and that for you I am not a Serene Highness, nor +a prince, nor a commander in chief, but a father! If you want anything +come straight to me. Good-by, my dear boy." + +Again he embraced and kissed Prince Andrew, but before the latter +had left the room Kutuzov gave a sigh of relief and went on with his +unfinished novel, Les Chevaliers du Cygne by Madame de Genlis. + +Prince Andrew could not have explained how or why it was, but +after that interview with Kutuzov he went back to his regiment +reassured as to the general course of affairs and as to the man to +whom it had been entrusted. The more he realized the absence of all +personal motive in that old man- in whom there seemed to remain only +the habit of passions, and in place of an intellect (grouping events +and drawing conclusions) only the capacity calmly to contemplate the +course of events- the more reassured he was that everything would be +as it should. "He will not bring in any plan of his own. He will not +devise or undertake anything," thought Prince Andrew, "but he will +hear everything, remember everything, and put everything in its place. +He will not hinder anything useful nor allow anything harmful. He +understands that there is something stronger and more important than +his own will- the inevitable course of events, and he can see them and +grasp their significance, and seeing that significance can refrain +from meddling and renounce his personal wish directed to something +else. And above all," thought Prince Andrew, "one believes in him +because he's Russian, despite the novel by Genlis and the French +proverbs, and because his voice shook when he said: 'What they have +brought us to!' and had a sob in it when he said he would 'make them +eat horseflesh!'" + +On such feelings, more or less dimly shared by all, the unanimity +and general approval were founded with which, despite court +influences, the popular choice of Kutuzov as commander in chief was +received. + +CHAPTER XVII + +After the Emperor had left Moscow, life flowed on there in its usual +course, and its course was so very usual that it was difficult to +remember the recent days of patriotic elation and ardor, hard to +believe that Russia was really in danger and that the members of the +English Club were also sons of the Fatherland ready to sacrifice +everything for it. The one thing that recalled the patriotic fervor +everyone had displayed during the Emperor's stay was the call for +contributions of men and money, a necessity that as soon as the +promises had been made assumed a legal, official form and became +unavoidable. + +With the enemy's approach to Moscow, the Moscovites' view of their +situation did not grow more serious but on the contrary became even +more frivolous, as always happens with people who see a great danger +approaching. At the approach of danger there are always two voices +that speak with equal power in the human soul: one very reasonably +tells a man to consider the nature of the danger and the means of +escaping it; the other, still more reasonably, says that it is too +depressing and painful to think of the danger, since it is not in +man's power to foresee everything and avert the general course of +events, and it is therefore better to disregard what is painful till +it comes, and to think about what is pleasant. In solitude a man +generally listens to the first voice, but in society to the second. So +it was now with the inhabitants of Moscow. It was long since people +had been as gay in Moscow as that year. + +Rostopchin's broadsheets, headed by woodcuts of a drink shop, a +potman, and a Moscow burgher called Karpushka Chigirin, "who- having +been a militiaman and having had rather too much at the pub- heard +that Napoleon wished to come to Moscow, grew angry, abused the +French in very bad language, came out of the drink shop, and, under +the sign of the eagle, began to address the assembled people," were +read and discussed, together with the latest of Vasili Lvovich +Pushkin's bouts rimes. + +In the corner room at the Club, members gathered to read these +broadsheets, and some liked the way Karpushka jeered at the French, +saying: "They will swell up with Russian cabbage, burst with our +buckwheat porridge, and choke themselves with cabbage soup. They are +all dwarfs and one peasant woman will toss three of them with a +hayfork." Others did not like that tone and said it was stupid and +vulgar. It was said that Rostopchin had expelled all Frenchmen and +even all foreigners from Moscow, and that there had been some spies +and agents of Napoleon among them; but this was told chiefly to +introduce Rostopchin's witty remark on that occasion. The foreigners +were deported to Nizhni by boat, and Rostopchin had said to them in +French: "Rentrez en vousmemes; entrez dans la barque, et n'en faites +pas une barque de Charon."~^ There was talk of all the government +offices having been already removed from Moscow, and to this +Shinshin's witticism was added- that for that alone Moscow ought to be +grateful to Napoleon. It was said that Mamonov's regiment would cost +him eight hundred thousand rubles, and that Bezukhov had spent even +more on his, but that the best thing about Bezukhov's action was +that he himself was going to don a uniform and ride at the head of his +regiment without charging anything for the show. + +^~ "Think it over; get into the barque, and take care not to make it a +barque of Charon." + +"You don't spare anyone," said Julie Drubetskaya as she collected +and pressed together a bunch of raveled lint with her thin, beringed +fingers. + +Julie was preparing to leave Moscow next day and was giving a +farewell soiree. + +"Bezukhov est ridicule, but he is so kind and good-natured. What +pleasure is there to be so caustique?" + +"A forfeit!" cried a young man in militia uniform whom Julie +called "mon chevalier," and who was going with her to Nizhni. + +In Julie's set, as in many other circles in Moscow, it had been +agreed that they would speak nothing but Russian and that those who +made a slip and spoke French should pay fines to the Committee of +Voluntary Contributions. + +"Another forfeit for a Gallicism," said a Russian writer who was +present. "'What pleasure is there to be' is not Russian!" + +"You spare no one," continued Julie to the young man without heeding +the author's remark. + +"For caustique- I am guilty and will pay, and I am prepared to pay +again for the pleasure of telling you the truth. For Gallicisms I +won't be responsible," she remarked, turning to the author: "I have +neither the money nor the time, like Prince Galitsyn, to engage a +master to teach me Russian!" + +"Ah, here he is!" she added. "Quand on... No, no," she said to the +militia officer, "you won't catch me. Speak of the sun and you see its +rays!" and she smiled amiably at Pierre. "We were just talking of +you," she said with the facility in lying natural to a society +woman. "We were saying that your regiment would be sure to be better +than Mamonov's." + +"Oh, don't talk to me of my regiment," replied Pierre, kissing his +hostess' hand and taking a seat beside her. "I am so sick of it." + +"You will, of course, command it yourself?" said Julie, directing +a sly, sarcastic glance toward the militia officer. + +The latter in Pierre's presence had ceased to be caustic, and his +face expressed perplexity as to what Julie's smile might mean. In +spite of his absent-mindedness and good nature, Pierre's personality +immediately checked any attempt to ridicule him to his face. + +"No," said Pierre, with a laughing glance at his big, stout body. "I +should make too good a target for the French, besides I am afraid I +should hardly be able to climb onto a horse." + +Among those whom Julie's guests happened to choose to gossip about +were the Rostovs. + +"I hear that their affairs are in a very bad way," said Julie. +"And he is so unreasonable, the count himself I mean. The +Razumovskis wanted to buy his house and his estate near Moscow, but it +drags on and on. He asks too much." + +"No, I think the sale will come off in a few days," said someone. +"Though it is madness to buy anything in Moscow now." + +"Why?" asked Julie. "You don't think Moscow is in danger?" + +"Then why are you leaving?" + +"I? What a question! I am going because... well, because everyone is +going: and besides- I am not Joan of Arc or an Amazon." + +"Well, of course, of course! Let me have some more strips of linen." + +"If he manages the business properly he will be able to pay off +all his debts," said the militia officer, speaking of Rostov. + +"A kindly old man but not up to much. And why do they stay on so +long in Moscow? They meant to leave for the country long ago. +Natalie is quite well again now, isn't she?" Julie asked Pierre with a +knowing smile. + +"They are waiting for their younger son," Pierre replied. "He joined +Obolenski's Cossacks and went to Belaya Tserkov where the regiment +is being formed. But now they have had him transferred to my +regiment and are expecting him every day. The count wanted to leave +long ago, but the countess won't on any account leave Moscow till +her son returns." + +"I met them the day before yesterday at the Arkharovs'. Natalie +has recovered her looks and is brighter. She sang a song. How easily +some people get over everything!" + +"Get over what?" inquired Pierre, looking displeased. + +Julie smiled. + +"You know, Count, such knights as you are only found in Madame de +Souza's novels." + +"What knights? What do you mean?" demanded Pierre, blushing. + +"Oh, come, my dear count! C'est la fable de tout Moscou. Je vous +admire, ma parole d'honneur!"~^ + +^~ "It is the talk of all Moscow. My word, I admire you!" + +"Forfeit, forfeit!" cried the militia officer. + +"All right, one can't talk- how tiresome!" + +"What is 'the talk of all Moscow'?" Pierre asked angrily, rising +to his feet. + +"Come now, Count, you know!" + +"I don't know anything about it," said Pierre. + +"I know you were friendly with Natalie, and so... but I was always +more friendly with Vera- that dear Vera." + +"No, madame!" Pierre continued in a tone of displeasure, "I have not +taken on myself the role of Natalie Rostova's knight at all, and +have not been their house for nearly a month. But I cannot +understand the cruelty..." + +"Qui s'excuse s'accuse,"~^ said Julie, smiling and waving the lint +triumphantly, and to have the last word she promptly changed the +subject. "Do you know what I heard today? Poor Mary Bolkonskaya +arrived in Moscow yesterday. Do you know that she has lost her +father?" + +^~ "Who excuses himself, accuses himself." + +"Really? Where is she? I should like very much to see her," said +Pierre. + +"I spent the evening with her yesterday. She is going to their +estate near Moscow either today or tomorrow morning, with her nephew." + +"Well, and how is she?" asked Pierre. + +"She is well, but sad. But do you know who rescued her? It is +quite a romance. Nicholas Rostov! She was surrounded, and they +wanted to kill her and had wounded some of her people. He rushed in +and saved her...." + +"Another romance," said the militia officer. "Really, this general +flight has been arranged to get all the old maids married off. Catiche +is one and Princess Bolkonskaya another." + +"Do you know, I really believe she is un petit peu amoureuse du +jeune homme."~^ + +^~ "A little bit in love with the young man." + +"Forfeit, forfeit, forfeit!" + +"But how could one say that in Russian?" + +CHAPTER XVIII + +When Pierre returned home he was handed two of Rostopchin's +broadsheets that had been brought that day. + +The first declared that the report that Count Rostopchin had +forbidden people to leave Moscow was false; on the contrary he was +glad that ladies and tradesmen's wives were leaving the city. "There +will be less panic and less gossip," ran the broadsheet "but I will +stake my life on it that that will not enter Moscow." These words +showed Pierre clearly for the first time that the French would enter +Moscow. The second broadsheet stated that our headquarters were at +Vyazma, that Count Wittgenstein had defeated the French, but that as +many of the inhabitants of Moscow wished to be armed, weapons were +ready for them at the arsenal: sabers, pistols, and muskets which +could be had at a low price. The tone of the proclamation was not as +jocose as in the former Chigirin talks. Pierre pondered over these +broadsheets. Evidently the terrible stormcloud he had desired with the +whole strength of his soul but which yet aroused involuntary horror in +him was drawing near. + +"Shall I join the army and enter the service, or wait?" he asked +himself for the hundredth time. He took a pack of cards that lay on +the table and began to lay them out for a game of patience. + +"If this patience comes out," he said to himself after shuffling the +cards, holding them in his hand, and lifting his head, "if it comes +out, it means... what does it mean?" + +He had not decided what it should mean when he heard the voice of +the eldest princess at the door asking whether she might come in. + +"Then it will mean that I must go to the army," said Pierre to +himself. "Come in, come in!" he added to the princess. + +Only the eldest princess, the one with the stony face and long +waist, was still living in Pierre's house. The two younger ones had +both married. + +"Excuse my coming to you, cousin," she said in a reproachful and +agitated voice. "You know some decision must be come to. What is going +to happen? Everyone has left Moscow and the people are rioting. How is +it that we are staying on?" + +"On the contrary, things seem satisfactory, ma cousine," said Pierre +in the bantering tone he habitually adopted toward her, always feeling +uncomfortable in the role of her benefactor. + +"Satisfactory, indeed! Very satisfactory! Barbara Ivanovna told me +today how our troops are distinguishing themselves. It certainly +does them credit! And the people too are quite mutinous- they no +longer obey, even my maid has taken to being rude. At this rate they +will soon begin beating us. One can't walk in the streets. But, +above all, the French will be here any day now, so what are we waiting +for? I ask just one thing of you, cousin," she went on, "arrange for +me to be taken to Petersburg. Whatever I may be, I can't live under +Bonaparte's rule." + +"Oh, come, ma cousine! Where do you get your information from? On +the contrary..." + +"I won't submit to your Napoleon! Others may if they please.... If +you don't want to do this..." + +"But I will, I'll give the order at once." + +The princess was apparently vexed at not having anyone to be angry +with. Muttering to herself, she sat down on a chair. + +"But you have been misinformed," said Pierre. "Everything is quiet +in the city and there is not the slightest danger. See! I've just been +reading..." He showed her the broadsheet. "Count Rostopchin writes +that he will stake his life on it that the enemy will not enter +Moscow." + +"Oh, that count of yours!" said the princess malevolently. "He is +a hypocrite, a rascal who has himself roused the people to riot. +Didn't he write in those idiotic broadsheets that anyone, 'whoever +it might be, should be dragged to the lockup by his hair'? (How +silly!) 'And honor and glory to whoever captures him,' he says. This +is what his cajolery has brought us to! Barbara Ivanovna told me the +mob near killed her because she said something in French." + +"Oh, but it's so... You take everything so to heart," said Pierre, +and began laying out his cards for patience. + +Although that patience did come out, Pierre did not join the army, +but remained in deserted Moscow ever in the same state of agitation, +irresolution, and alarm, yet at the same time joyfully expecting +something terrible. + +Next day toward evening the princess set off, and Pierre's head +steward came to inform him that the money needed for the equipment +of his regiment could not be found without selling one of the estates. +In general the head steward made out to Pierre that his project of +raising a regiment would ruin him. Pierre listened to him, scarcely +able to repress a smile. + +"Well then, sell it," said he. "What's to be done? I can't draw back +now!" + +The worse everything became, especially his own affairs, the +better was Pierre pleased and the more evident was it that the +catastrophe he expected was approaching. Hardly anyone he knew was +left in town. Julie had gone, and so had Princess Mary. Of his +intimate friends only the Rostovs remained, but he did not go to see +them. + +To distract his thoughts he drove that day to the village of +Vorontsovo to see the great balloon Leppich was constructing to +destroy the foe, and a trial balloon that was to go up next day. The +balloon was not yet ready, but Pierre learned that it was being +constructed by the Emperor's desire. The Emperor had written to +Count Rostopchin as follows: + +As soon as Leppich is ready, get together a crew of reliable and +intelligent men for his car and send a courier to General Kutuzov to +let him know. I have informed him of the matter. + +Please impress upon Leppich to be very careful where he descends for +the first time, that he may not make a mistake and fall into the +enemy's hands. It is essential for him to combine his movements with +those of the commander in chief. + +On his way home from Vorontsovo, as he was passing the Bolotnoe +Place Pierre, seeing a large crowd round the Lobnoe Place, stopped and +got out of his trap. A French cook accused of being a spy was being +flogged. The flogging was only just over, and the executioner was +releasing from the flogging bench a stout man with red whiskers, in +blue stockings and a green jacket, who was moaning piteously. +Another criminal, thin and pale, stood near. Judging by their faces +they were both Frenchmen. With a frightened and suffering look +resembling that on the thin Frenchman's face, Pierre pushed his way in +through the crowd. + +"What is it? Who is it? What is it for?" he kept asking. + +But the attention of the crowd- officials, burghers, shopkeepers, +peasants, and women in cloaks and in pelisses- was so eagerly centered +on what was passing in Lobnoe Place that no one answered him. The +stout man rose, frowned, shrugged his shoulders, and evidently +trying to appear firm began to pull on his jacket without looking +about him, but suddenly his lips trembled and he began to cry, in +the way full-blooded grown-up men cry, though angry with himself for +doing so. In the crowd people began talking loudly, to stifle their +feelings of pity as it seemed to Pierre. + +"He's cook to some prince." + +"Eh, mounseer, Russian sauce seems to be sour to a Frenchman... sets +his teeth on edge!" said a wrinkled clerk who was standing behind +Pierre, when the Frenchman began to cry. + +The clerk glanced round, evidently hoping that his joke would be +appreciated. Some people began to laugh, others continued to watch +in dismay the executioner who was undressing the other man. + +Pierre choked, his face puckered, and he turned hastily away, went +back to his trap muttering something to himself as he went, and took +his seat. As they drove along he shuddered and exclaimed several times +so audibly that the coachman asked him: + +"What is your pleasure?" + +"Where are you going?" shouted Pierre to the man, who was driving to +Lubyanka Street. + +"To the Governor's, as you ordered," answered the coachman. + +"Fool! Idiot!" shouted Pierre, abusing his coachman- a thing he +rarely did. "Home, I told you! And drive faster, blockhead!" "I must +get away this very day," he murmured to himself. + +At the sight of the tortured Frenchman and the crowd surrounding the +Lobnoe Place, Pierre had so definitely made up his mind that he +could no longer remain in Moscow and would leave for the army that +very day that it seemed to him that either he had told the coachman +this or that the man ought to have known it for himself. + +On reaching home Pierre gave orders to Evstafey- his head coachman +who knew everything, could do anything, and was known to all Moscow- +that he would leave that night for the army at Mozhaysk, and that +his saddle horses should be sent there. This could not all be arranged +that day, so on Evstafey's representation Pierre had to put off his +departure till next day to allow time for the relay horses to be +sent on in advance. + +On the twenty-fourth the weather cleared up after a spell of rain, +and after dinner Pierre left Moscow. When changing horses that night +in Perkhushkovo, he learned that there had been a great battle that +evening. (This was the battle of Shevardino.) He was told that there +in Perkhushkovo the earth trembled from the firing, but nobody could +answer his questions as to who had won. At dawn next day Pierre was +approaching Mozhaysk. + +Every house in Mozhaysk had soldiers quartered in it, and at the +hostel where Pierre was met by his groom and coachman there was no +room to be had. It was full of officers. + +Everywhere in Mozhaysk and beyond it, troops were stationed or on +the march. Cossacks, foot and horse soldiers, wagons, caissons, and +cannon were everywhere. Pierre pushed forward as fast as he could, and +the farther he left Moscow behind and the deeper he plunged into +that sea of troops the more was he overcome by restless agitation +and a new and joyful feeling he had not experienced before. It was a +feeling akin to what he had felt at the Sloboda Palace during the +Emperor's visit- a sense of the necessity of undertaking something and +sacrificing something. He now experienced a glad consciousness that +everything that constitutes men's happiness- the comforts of life, +wealth, even life itself- is rubbish it is pleasant to throw away, +compared with something... With what? Pierre could not say, and he did +not try to determine for whom and for what he felt such particular +delight in sacrificing everything. He was not occupied with the +question of what to sacrifice for; the fact of sacrificing in itself +afforded him a new and joyous sensation. + +CHAPTER XIX + +On the twenty-fourth of August the battle of the Shevardino +Redoubt was fought, on the twenty-fifth not a shot was fired by either +side, and on the twenty-sixth the battle of Borodino itself took +place. + +Why and how were the battles of Shevardino and Borodino given and +accepted? Why was the battle of Borodino fought? There was not the +least sense in it for either the French or the Russians. Its immediate +result for the Russians was, and was bound to be, that we were brought +nearer to the destruction of Moscow- which we feared more than +anything in the world; and for the French its immediate result was +that they were brought nearer to the destruction of their whole +army- which they feared more than anything in the world. What the +result must be was quite obvious, and yet Napoleon offered and Kutuzov +accepted that battle. + +If the commanders had been guided by reason, it would seem that it +must have been obvious to Napoleon that by advancing thirteen +hundred miles and giving battle with a probability of losing a quarter +of his army, he was advancing to certain destruction, and it must have +been equally clear to Kutuzov that by accepting battle and risking the +loss of a quarter of his army he would certainly lose Moscow. For +Kutuzov this was mathematically clear, as it is that if when playing +draughts I have one man less and go on exchanging, I shall certainly +lose, and therefore should not exchange. When my opponent has +sixteen men and I have fourteen, I am only one eighth weaker than +he, but when I have exchanged thirteen more men he will be three times +as strong as I am. + +Before the battle of Borodino our strength in proportion to the +French was about as five to six, but after that battle it was little +more than one to two: previously we had a hundred thousand against a +hundred and twenty thousand; afterwards little more than fifty +thousand against a hundred thousand. Yet the shrewd and experienced +Kutuzov accepted the battle, while Napoleon, who was said to be a +commander of genius, gave it, losing a quarter of his army and +lengthening his lines of communication still more. If it is said +that he expected to end the campaign by occupying Moscow as he had +ended a previous campaign by occupying Vienna, there is much +evidence to the contrary. Napoleon's historians themselves tell us +that from Smolensk onwards he wished to stop, knew the danger of his +extended position, and knew that the occupation of Moscow would not be +the end of the campaign, for he had seen at Smolensk the state in +which Russian towns were left to him, and had not received a single +reply to his repeated announcements of his wish to negotiate. + +In giving and accepting battle at Borodino, Kutuzov acted +involuntarily and irrationally. But later on, to fit what had +occurred, the historians provided cunningly devised evidence of the +foresight and genius the generals who, of all the blind tools of +history were the most enslaved and involuntary. + +The ancients have left us model heroic poems in which the heroes +furnish the whole interest of the story, and we are still unable to +accustom ourselves to the fact that for our epoch histories of that +kind are meaningless. + +On the other question, how the battle of Borodino and the +preceding battle of Shevardino were fought, there also exists a +definite and well-known, but quite false, conception. All the +historians describe the affair as follows: + +The Russian army, they say, in its retreat from Smolensk sought +out for itself the best position for a general engagement and found +such a position at Borodino. + +The Russians, they say, fortified this position in advance on the +left of the highroad (from Moscow to Smolensk) and almost at a right +angle to it, from Borodino to Utitsa, at the very place where the +battle was fought. + +In front of this position, they say, a fortified outpost was set +up on the Shevardino mound to observe the enemy. On the twenty-fourth, +we are told, Napoleon attacked this advanced post and took it, and, on +the twenty-sixth, attacked the whole Russian army, which was in +position on the field of Borodino. + +So the histories say, and it is all quite wrong, as anyone who cares +to look into the matter can easily convince himself. + +The Russians did not seek out the best position but, on the +contrary, during the retreat passed many positions better than +Borodino. They did not stop at any one of these positions because +Kutuzov did not wish to occupy a position he had not himself chosen, +because the popular demand for a battle had not yet expressed itself +strongly enough, and because Miloradovich had not yet arrived with the +militia, and for many other reasons. The fact is that other +positions they had passed were stronger, and that the position at +Borodino (the one where the battle was fought), far from being strong, +was no more a position than any other spot one might find in the +Russian Empire by sticking a pin into the map at hazard. + +Not only did the Russians not fortify the position on the field of +Borodino to the left of, and at a right angle to, the highroad (that +is, the position on which the battle took place), but never till the +twenty-fifth of August, 1812, did they think that a battle might be +fought there. This was shown first by the fact that there were no +entrenchments there by the twenty fifth and that those begun on the +twenty-fifth and twenty-sixth were not completed, and secondly, by the +position of the Shevardino Redoubt. That redoubt was quite senseless +in front of the position where the battle was accepted. Why was it +more strongly fortified than any other post? And why were all +efforts exhausted and six thousand men sacrificed to defend it till +late at night on the twenty-fourth? A Cossack patrol would have +sufficed to observe the enemy. Thirdly, as proof that the position +on which the battle was fought had not been foreseen and that the +Shevardino Redoubt was not an advanced post of that position, we +have the fact that up to the twenty-fifth, Barclay de Tolly and +Bagration were convinced that the Shevardino Redoubt was the left +flank of the position, and that Kutuzov himself in his report, written +in hot haste after the battle, speaks of the Shevardino Redoubt as the +left flank of the position. It was much later, when reports on the +battle of Borodino were written at leisure, that the incorrect and +extraordinary statement was invented (probably to justify the mistakes +of a commander in chief who had to be represented as infallible) +that the Shevardino Redoubt was an advanced post- whereas in reality +it was simply a fortified point on the left flank- and that the battle +of Borodino was fought by us on an entrenched position previously +selected, where as it was fought on a quite unexpected spot which +was almost unentrenched. + +The case was evidently this: a position was selected along the river +Kolocha- which crosses the highroad not at a right angle but at an +acute angle- so that the left flank was at Shevardino, the right flank +near the village of Novoe, and the center at Borodino at the +confluence of the rivers Kolocha and Voyna. + +To anyone who looks at the field of Borodino without thinking of how +the battle was actually fought, this position, protected by the +river Kolocha, presents itself as obvious for an army whose object was +to prevent an enemy from advancing along the Smolensk road to Moscow. + +Napoleon, riding to Valuevo on the twenty-fourth, did not see (as +the history books say he did) the position of the Russians from Utitsa +to Borodino (he could not have seen that position because it did not +exist), nor did he see an advanced post of the Russian army, but while +pursuing the Russian rearguard he came upon the left flank of the +Russian position- at the Shevardino Redoubt- and unexpectedly for +the Russians moved his army across the Kolocha. And the Russians, +not having time to begin a general engagement, withdrew their left +wing from the position they had intended to occupy and took up a new +position which had not been foreseen and was not fortified. By +crossing to the other side of the Kolocha to the left of the highroad, +Napoleon shifted the whole forthcoming battle from right to left +(looking from the Russian side) and transferred it to the plain +between Utitsa, Semenovsk, and Borodino- a plain no more +advantageous as a position than any other plain in Russia- and there +the whole battle of the twenty-sixth of August took place. + +Had Napoleon not ridden out on the evening of the twenty-fourth to +the Kolocha, and had he not then ordered an immediate attack on the +redoubt but had begun the attack next morning, no one would have +doubted that the Shevardino Redoubt was the left flank of our and +the battle would have taken place where we expected it. In that case +we should probably have defended the Shevardino Redoubt- our left +flank- still more obstinately. We should have attacked Napoleon in the +center or on the right, and the engagement would have taken place on +the twenty-fifth, in the position we intended and had fortified. But +as the attack on our left flank took place in the evening after the +retreat of our rea guard (that is, immediately after the fight at +Gridneva), and as the Russian commanders did not wish, or were not +in time, to begin a general engagement then on the evening of the +twenty-fourth, the first and chief action of the battle of Borodino +was already lost on the twenty-fourth, and obviously led to the loss +of the one fought on the twenty-sixth. + +After the loss of the Shevardino Redoubt, we found ourselves on +the morning of the twenty-fifth without a position for our left flank, +and were forced to bend it back and hastily entrench it where it +chanced to be. + +Not only was the Russian army on the twenty-sixth defended by +weak, unfinished entrenchments, but the disadvantage of that +position was increased by the fact that the Russian commanders- not +having fully realized what had happened, namely the loss of our +position on the left flank and the shifting of the whole field of +the forthcoming battle from right to left- maintained their extended +position from the village of Novoe to Utitsa, and consequently had +to move their forces from right to left during the battle. So it +happened that throughout the whole battle the Russians opposed the +entire French army launched against our left flank with but half as +many men. (Poniatowski's action against Utitsa, and Uvarov's on the +right flank against the French, were actions distinct from the main +course of the battle.) So the battle of Borodino did not take place at +all as (in an effort to conceal our commanders' mistakes even at the +cost of diminishing the glory due to the Russian army and people) it +has been described. The battle of Borodino was not fought on a +chosen and entrenched position with forces only slightly weaker than +those of the enemy, but, as a result of the loss of the Shevardino +Redoubt, the Russians fought the battle of Borodino on an open and +almost unentrenched position, with forces only half as numerous as the +French; that is to say, under conditions in which it was not merely +unthinkable to fight for ten hours and secure an indecisive result, +but unthinkable to keep an army even from complete disintegration +and flight. + +CHAPTER XX + +On the morning of the twenty-fifth Pierre was leaving Mozhaysk. At +the descent of the high steep hill, down which a winding road led +out of the town past the cathedral on the right, where a service was +being held and the bells were ringing, Pierre got out of his vehicle +and proceeded on foot. Behind him a cavalry regiment was coming down +the hill preceded by its singers. Coming up toward him was a train +of carts carrying men who had been wounded in the engagement the day +before. The peasant drivers, shouting and lashing their horses, kept +crossing from side to side. The carts, in each of which three or +four wounded soldiers were lying or sitting, jolted over the stones +that had been thrown on the steep incline to make it something like +a road. The wounded, bandaged with rags, with pale cheeks, +compressed lips, and knitted brows, held on to the sides of the +carts as they were jolted against one another. Almost all of them +stared with naive, childlike curiosity at Pierre's white hat and green +swallow-tail coat. + +Pierre's coachman shouted angrily at the convoy of wounded to keep +to one side of the road. The cavalry regiment, as it descended the +hill with its singers, surrounded Pierre's carriage and blocked the +road. Pierre stopped, being pressed against the side of the cutting in +which the road ran. The sunshine from behind the hill did not +penetrate into the cutting and there it was cold and damp, but above +Pierre's head was the bright August sunshine and the bells sounded +merrily. One of the carts with wounded stopped by the side of the road +close to Pierre. The driver in his bast shoes ran panting up to it, +placed a stone under one of its tireless hind wheels, and began +arranging the breech-band on his little horse. + +One of the wounded, an old soldier with a bandaged arm who was +following the cart on foot, caught hold of it with his sound hand +and turned to look at Pierre. + +"I say, fellow countryman! Will they set us down here or take us +on to Moscow?" he asked. + +Pierre was so deep in thought that he did not hear the question. +He was looking now at the cavalry regiment that had met the convoy +of wounded, now at the cart by which he was standing, in which two +wounded men were sitting and one was lying. One of those sitting up in +the cart had probably been wounded in the cheek. His whole head was +wrapped in rags and one cheek was swollen to the size of a baby's +head. His nose and mouth were twisted to one side. This soldier was +looking at the cathedral and crossing himself. Another, a young lad, a +fair-haired recruit as white as though there was no blood in his +thin face, looked at Pierre kindly, with a fixed smile. The third +lay prone so that his face was not visible. The cavalry singers were +passing close by: + +_1 Ah lost, quite lost... is my head so keen,<br> +Living in a foreign land. + +they sang their soldiers' dance song. + +As if responding to them but with a different sort of merriment, the +metallic sound of the bells reverberated high above and the hot rays +of the sun bathed the top of the opposite slope with yet another +sort of merriment. But beneath the slope, by the cart with the wounded +near the panting little nag where Pierre stood, it was damp, somber, +and sad. + +The soldier with the swollen cheek looked angrily at the cavalry +singers. + +"Oh, the coxcombs!" he muttered reproachfully. + +"It's not the soldiers only, but I've seen peasants today, too.... +The peasants- even they have to go," said the soldier behind the cart, +addressing Pierre with a sad smile. "No distinctions made nowadays.... +They want the whole nation to fall on them- in a word, it's Moscow! +They want to make an end of it." + +In spite of the obscurity of the soldier's words Pierre understood +what he wanted to say and nodded approval. + +The road was clear again; Pierre descended the hill and drove on. + +He kept looking to either side of the road for familiar faces, but +only saw everywhere the unfamiliar faces of various military men of +different branches of the service, who all looked with astonishment at +his white hat and green tail coat. + +Having gone nearly three miles he at last met an acquaintance and +eagerly addressed him. This was one of the head army doctors. He was +driving toward Pierre in a covered gig, sitting beside a young +surgeon, and on recognizing Pierre he told the Cossack who occupied +the driver's seat to pull up. + +"Count! Your excellency, how come you to be here?" asked the doctor. + +"Well, you know, I wanted to see..." + +"Yes, yes, there will be something to see...." + +Pierre got out and talked to the doctor, explaining his intention of +taking part in a battle. + +The doctor advised him to apply direct to Kutuzov. + +"Why should you be God knows where out of sight, during the battle?" +he said, exchanging glances with his young companion. "Anyhow his +Serene Highness knows you and will receive you graciously. That's what +you must do." + +The doctor seemed tired and in a hurry. + +"You think so?... Ah, I also wanted to ask you where our position is +exactly?" said Pierre. + +"The position?" repeated the doctor. "Well, that's not my line. +Drive past Tatarinova, a lot of digging is going on there. Go up the +hillock and you'll see." + +"Can one see from there?... If you would..." + +But the doctor interrupted him and moved toward his gig. + +"I would go with you but on my honor I'm up to here"- and he pointed +to his throat. "I'm galloping to the commander of the corps. How do +matters stand?... You know, Count, there'll be a battle tomorrow. +Out of an army of a hundred thousand we must expect at least twenty +thousand wounded, and we haven't stretchers, or bunks, or dressers, or +doctors enough for six thousand. We have ten thousand carts, but we +need other things as well- we must manage as best we can!" + +The strange thought that of the thousands of men, young and old, who +had stared with merry surprise at his hat (perhaps the very men he had +noticed), twenty thousand were inevitably doomed to wounds and death +amazed Pierre. + +"They may die tomorrow; why are they thinking of anything but +death?" And by some latent sequence of thought the descent of the +Mozhaysk hill, the carts with the wounded, the ringing bells, the +slanting rays of the sun, and the songs of the cavalrymen vividly +recurred to his mind. + +"The cavalry ride to battle and meet the wounded and do not for a +moment think of what awaits them, but pass by, winking at the wounded. +Yet from among these men twenty thousand are doomed to die, and they +wonder at my hat! Strange!" thought Pierre, continuing his way to +Tatarinova. + +In front of a landowner's house to the left of the road stood +carriages, wagons, and crowds of orderlies and sentinels. The +commander in chief was putting up there, but just when Pierre +arrived he was not in and hardly any of the staff were there- they had +gone to the church service. Pierre drove on toward Gorki. + +When he had ascended the hill and reached the little village street, +he saw for the first time peasant militiamen in their white shirts and +with crosses on their caps, who, talking and laughing loudly, animated +and perspiring, were at work on a huge knoll overgrown with grass to +the right of the road. + +Some of them were digging, others were wheeling barrowloads of earth +along planks, while others stood about doing nothing. + +Two officers were standing on the knoll, directing the men. On +seeing these peasants, who were evidently still amused by the +novelty of their position as soldiers, Pierre once more thought of the +wounded men at Mozhaysk and understood what the soldier had meant when +he said: "They want the whole nation to fall on them." The sight of +these bearded peasants at work on the battlefield, with their queer, +clumsy boots and perspiring necks, and their shirts opening from the +left toward the middle, unfastened, exposing their sunburned +collarbones, impressed Pierre more strongly with the solemnity and +importance of the moment than anything he had yet seen or heard. + +CHAPTER XXI + +Pierre stepped out of his carriage and, passing the toiling +militiamen, ascended the knoll from which, according to the doctor, +the battlefield could be seen. + +It was about eleven o'clock. The sun shone somewhat to the left +and behind him and brightly lit up the enormous panorama which, rising +like an amphitheater, extended before him in the clear rarefied +atmosphere. + +From above on the left, bisecting that amphitheater, wound the +Smolensk highroad, passing through a village with a white church +some five hundred paces in front of the knoll and below it. This was +Borodino. Below the village the road crossed the river by a bridge +and, winding down and up, rose higher and higher to the village of +Valuevo visible about four miles away, where Napoleon was then +stationed. Beyond Valuevo the road disappeared into a yellowing forest +on the horizon. Far in the distance in that birch and fir forest to +the right of the road, the cross and belfry of the Kolocha Monastery +gleamed in the sun. Here and there over the whole of that blue +expanse, to right and left of the forest and the road, smoking +campfires could be seen and indefinite masses of troops- ours and +the enemy's. The ground to the right- along the course of the +Kolocha and Moskva rivers- was broken and hilly. Between the hollows +the villages of Bezubova and Zakharino showed in the distance. On +the left the ground was more level; there were fields of grain, and +the smoking ruins of Semenovsk, which had been burned down, could be +seen. + +All that Pierre saw was so indefinite that neither the left nor +the right side of the field fully satisfied his expectations. +Nowhere could he see the battlefield he had expected to find, but only +fields, meadows, troops, woods, the smoke of campfires, villages, +mounds, and streams; and try as he would he could descry no military +"position" in this place which teemed with life, nor could he even +distinguish our troops from the enemy's. + +"I must ask someone who knows," he thought, and addressed an officer +who was looking with curiosity at his huge unmilitary figure. + +"May I ask you," said Pierre, "what village that is in front?" + +"Burdino, isn't it?" said the officer, turning to his companion. + +"Borodino," the other corrected him. + +The officer, evidently glad of an opportunity for a talk, moved up +to Pierre. + +"Are those our men there?" Pierre inquired. + +"Yes, and there, further on, are the French," said the officer. +"There they are, there... you can see them." + +"Where? Where?" asked Pierre. + +"One can see them with the naked eye... Why, there!" + +The officer pointed with his hand to the smoke visible on the left +beyond the river, and the same stern and serious expression that +Pierre had noticed on many of the faces he had met came into his face. + +"Ah, those are the French! And over there?..." Pierre pointed to a +knoll on the left, near which some troops could be seen. + +"Those are ours." + +"Ah, ours! And there?..." Pierre pointed to another knoll in the +distance with a big tree on it, near a village that lay in a hollow +where also some campfires were smoking and something black was +visible. + +"That's his again," said the officer. (It was the Shevardino +Redoubt.) "It was ours yesterday, but now it is his." + +"Then how about our position?" + +"Our position?" replied the officer with a smile of satisfaction. "I +can tell you quite clearly, because I constructed nearly all our +entrenchments. There, you see? There's our center, at Borodino, just +there," and he pointed to the village in front of them with the +white church. "That's where one crosses the Kolocha. You see down +there where the rows of hay are lying in the hollow, there's the +bridge. That's our center. Our right flank is over there"- he +pointed sharply to the right, far away in the broken ground- "That's +where the Moskva River is, and we have thrown up three redoubts there, +very strong ones. The left flank..." here the officer paused. "Well, +you see, that's difficult to explain.... Yesterday our left flank +was there at Shevardino, you see, where the oak is, but now we have +withdrawn our left wing- now it is over there, do you see that village +and the smoke? That's Semenovsk, yes, there," he pointed to +Raevski's knoll. "But the battle will hardly be there. His having +moved his troops there is only a ruse; he will probably pass round +to the right of the Moskva. But wherever it may be, many a man will be +missing tomorrow!" he remarked. + +An elderly sergeant who had approached the officer while he was +giving these explanations had waited in silence for him to finish +speaking, but at this point, evidently not liking the officer's +remark, interrupted him. + +"Gabions must be sent for," said he sternly. + +The officer appeared abashed, as though he understood that one might +think of how many men would be missing tomorrow but ought not to speak +to speak of it. + +"Well, send number three company again," the officer replied +hurriedly. + +"And you, are you one of the doctors?" + +"No, I've come on my own," answered Pierre, and he went down the +hill again, passing the militiamen. + +"Oh, those damned fellows!" muttered the officer who followed him, +holding his nose as he ran past the men at work. + +"There they are... bringing her, coming... There they are... They'll +be here in a minute..." voices were suddenly heard saying; and +officers, soldiers, and militiamen began running forward along the +road. + +A church procession was coming up the hill from Borodino. First +along the dusty road came the infantry in ranks, bareheaded and with +arms reversed. From behind them came the sound of church singing. + +Soldiers and militiamen ran bareheaded past Pierre toward the +procession. + +"They are bringing her, our Protectress!... The Iberian Mother of +God!" someone cried. + +"The Smolensk Mother of God," another corrected him. + +The militiamen, both those who had been in the village and those who +had been at work on the battery, threw down their spades and ran to +meet the church procession. Following the battalion that marched along +the dusty road came priests in their vestments- one little old man +in a hood with attendants and singers. Behind them soldiers and +officers bore a large, dark-faced icon with an embossed metal cover. +This was the icon that had been brought from and had since accompanied +the army. Behind, before, and on both sides, crowds of militiamen with +bared heads walked, ran, and bowed to the ground. + +At the summit of the hill they stopped with the icon; the men who +had been holding it up by the linen bands attached to it were relieved +by others, the chanters relit their censers, and service began. The +hot rays of the sun beat down vertically and a fresh soft wind +played with the hair of the bared heads and with the ribbons +decorating the icon. The singing did not sound loud under the open +sky. An immense crowd of bareheaded officers, soldiers, and militiamen +surrounded the icon. Behind the priest and a chanter stood the +notabilities on a spot reserved for them. A bald general with +general with a St. George's Cross on his neck stood just behind the +priest's back, and without crossing himself (he was evidently a +German) patiently awaited the end of the service, which he +considered it necessary to hear to the end, probably to arouse the +patriotism of the Russian people. Another general stood in a martial +pose, crossing himself by shaking his hand in front of his chest while +looking about him. Standing among the crowd of peasants, Pierre +recognized several acquaintances among these notables, but did not +look at them- his whole attention was absorbed in watching the serious +expression on the faces of the crowd of soldiers and militiamen who +were all gazing eagerly at the icon. As soon as the tired chanters, +who were singing the service for the twentieth time that day, began +lazily and mechanically to sing: "Save from calamity Thy servants, O +Mother of God," and the priest and deacon chimed in: "For to Thee +under God we all flee as to an inviolable bulwark and protection," +there again kindled in all those faces the same expression of +consciousness of the solemnity of the impending moment that Pierre had +seen on the faces at the foot of the hill at Mozhaysk and +momentarily on many and many faces he had met that morning; and +heads were bowed more frequently and hair tossed back, and sighs and +the sound men made as they crossed themselves were heard. + +The crowd round the icon suddenly parted and pressed against Pierre. +Someone, a very important personage judging by the haste with which +way was made for him, was approaching the icon. + +It was Kutuzov, who had been riding round the position and on his +way back to Tatarinova had stopped where the service was being held. +Pierre recognized him at once by his peculiar figure, which +distinguished him from everybody else. + +With a long overcoat on his his exceedingly stout, +round-shouldered body, with uncovered white head and puffy face +showing the white ball of the eye he had lost, Kutuzov walked with +plunging, swaying gait into the crowd and stopped behind the priest. +He crossed himself with an accustomed movement, bent till he touched +the ground with his hand, and bowed his white head with a deep sigh. +Behind Kutuzov was Bennigsen and the suite. Despite the presence of +the commander in chief, who attracted the attention of all the +superior officers, the militiamen and soldiers continued their prayers +without looking at him. + +When the service was over, Kutuzov stepped up to the icon, sank +heavily to his knees, bowed to the ground, and for a long time tried +vainly to rise, but could not do so on account of his weakness and +weight. His white head twitched with the effort. At last he rose, +kissed the icon as a child does with naively pouting lips, and again +bowed till he touched the ground with his hand. The other generals +followed his example, then the officers, and after them with excited +faces, pressing on one another, crowding, panting, and pushing, +scrambled the soldiers and militiamen. + +CHAPTER XXII + +Staggering amid the crush, Pierre looked about him. + +"Count Peter Kirilovich! How did you get here?" said a voice. + +Pierre looked round. Boris Drubetskoy, brushing his knees with his +hand (he had probably soiled them when he, too, had knelt before the +icon), came up to him smiling. Boris was elegantly dressed, with a +slightly martial touch appropriate to a campaign. He wore a long +coat and like Kutuzov had a whip slung across his shoulder. + +Meanwhile Kutuzov had reached the village and seated himself in +the shade of the nearest house, on a bench which one Cossack had run +to fetch and another had hastily covered with a rug. An immense and +brilliant suite surrounded him. + +The icon was carried further, accompanied by the throng. Pierre +stopped some thirty paces from Kutuzov, talking to Boris. + +He explained his wish to be present at the battle and to see the +position. + +"This is what you must do," said Boris. "I will do the honors of the +camp to you. You will see everything best from where Count Bennigsen +will be. I am in attendance on him, you know; I'll mention it to +him. But if you want to ride round the position, come along with us. +We are just going to the left flank. Then when we get back, do spend +the night with me and we'll arrange a game of cards. Of course you +know Dmitri Sergeevich? Those are his quarters," and he pointed to the +third house in the village of Gorki. + +"But I should like to see the right flank. They say it's very +strong," said Pierre. "I should like to start from the Moskva River +and ride round the whole position." + +"Well, you can do that later, but the chief thing is the left +flank." + +"Yes, yes. But where is Prince Bolkonski's regiment? Can you point +it out to me?" + +"Prince Andrew's? We shall pass it and I'll take you to him." + +What about the left flank?" asked Pierre + +"To tell you the truth, between ourselves, God only knows what state +our left flank is in," said Boris confidentially lowering his voice. +"It is not at all what Count Bennigsen intended. He meant to fortify +that knoll quite differently, but..." Boris shrugged his shoulders, +"his Serene Highness would not have it, or someone persuaded him. +You see..." but Boris did not finish, for at that moment Kaysarov, +Kutuzov's adjutant, came up to Pierre. "Ah, Kaysarov!" said Boris, +addressing him with an unembarrassed smile, "I was just trying to +explain our position to the count. It is amazing how his Serene +Highness could so the intentions of the French!" + +"You mean the left flank?" asked Kaysarov. + +"Yes, exactly; the left flank is now extremely strong." + +Though Kutuzov had dismissed all unnecessary men from the staff, +Boris had contrived to remain at headquarters after the changes. He +had established himself with Count Bennigsen, who, like all on whom +Boris had been in attendance, considered young Prince Drubetskoy an +invaluable man. + +In the higher command there were two sharply defined parties: +Kutuzov's party and that of Bennigsen, the chief of staff. Boris +belonged to the latter and no one else, while showing servile +respect to Kutuzov, could so create an impression that the old +fellow was not much good and that Bennigsen managed everything. Now +the decisive moment of battle had come when Kutuzov would be destroyed +and the power pass to Bennigsen, or even if Kutuzov won the battle +it would be felt that everything was done by Bennigsen. In any case +many great rewards would have to be given for tomorrow's action, and +new men would come to the front. So Boris was full of nervous vivacity +all day. + +After Kaysarov, others whom Pierre knew came up to him, and he had +not time to reply to all the questions about Moscow that were showered +upon him, or to listen to all that was told him. The faces all +expressed animation and apprehension, but it seemed to Pierre that the +cause of the excitement shown in some of these faces lay chiefly in +questions of personal success; his mind, however, was occupied by +the different expression he saw on other faces- an expression that +spoke not of personal matters but of the universal questions of life +and death. Kutuzov noticed Pierre's figure and the group gathered +round him. + +"Call him to me," said Kutuzov. + +An adjutant told Pierre of his Serene Highness' wish, and Pierre +went toward Kutuzov's bench. But a militiaman got there before him. It +was Dolokhov. + +"How did that fellow get here?" asked Pierre. + +"He's a creature that wriggles in anywhere!" was the answer. "He has +been degraded, you know. Now he wants to bob up again. He's been +proposing some scheme or other and has crawled into the enemy's picket +line at night.... He's a brave fellow." + +Pierre took off his hat and bowed respectfully to Kutuzov. + +"I concluded that if I reported to your Serene Highness you might +send me away or say that you knew what I was reporting, but then I +shouldn't lose anything..." Dolokhov was saying. + +"Yes, yes." + +"But if I were right, I should be rendering a service to my +Fatherland for which I am ready to die." + +"Yes, yes." + +"And should your Serene Highness require a man who will not spare +his skin, please think of me.... Perhaps I may prove useful to your +Serene Highness." + +"Yes... Yes..." Kutuzov repeated, his laughing eye narrowing more +and more as he looked at Pierre. + +Just then Boris, with his courtierlike adroitness, stepped up to +Pierre's side near Kutuzov and in a most natural manner, without +raising his voice, said to Pierre, as though continuing an interrupted +conversation: + +"The militia have put on clean white shirts to be ready to die. What +heroism, Count!" + +Boris evidently said this to Pierre in order to be overheard by +his Serene Highness. He knew Kutuzov's attention would be caught by +those words, and so it was. + +"What are you saying about the militia?" he asked Boris. + +"Preparing for tomorrow, your Serene Highness- for death- they +have put on clean shirts." + +"Ah... a wonderful, a matchless people!" said Kutuzov; and he closed +his eyes and swayed his head. "A matchless people!" he repeated with a +sigh. + +"So you want to smell gunpowder?" he said to Pierre. "Yes, it's a +pleasant smell. I have the honor to be one of your wife's adorers. +Is she well? My quarters are at your service." + +And as often happens with old people, Kutuzov began looking about +absent-mindedly as if forgetting all he wanted to say or do. + +Then, evidently remembering what he wanted, he beckoned to Andrew +Kaysarov, his adjutant's brother. + +"Those verses... those verses of Marin's... how do they go, eh? +Those he wrote about Gerakov: 'Lectures for the corps inditing'... +Recite them, recite them!" said he, evidently preparing to laugh. + +Kaysarov recited.... Kutuzov smilingly nodded his head to the rhythm +of the verses. + +When Pierre had left Kutuzov, Dolokhov came up to him and took his +hand. + +"I am very glad to meet you here, Count," he said aloud, +regardless of the presence of strangers and in a particularly resolute +and solemn tone. "On the eve of a day when God alone knows who of us +is fated to survive, I am glad of this opportunity to tell you that +I regret the misunderstandings that occurred between us and should +wish you not to have any ill feeling for me. I beg you to forgive me." + +Pierre looked at Dolokhov with a smile, not knowing what to say to +him. With tears in his eyes Dolokhov embraced Pierre and kissed him. + +Boris said a few words to his general, and Count Bennigsen turned to +Pierre and proposed that he should ride with him along the line. + +"It will interest you," said he. + +"Yes, very much," replied Pierre. + +Half an hour later Kutuzov left for Tatarinova, and Bennigsen and +his suite, with Pierre among them, set out on their ride along the +line. + +CHAPTER XXIII + +From Gorki, Bennigsen descended the highroad to the bridge which, +when they had looked it from the hill, the officer had pointed out +as being the center of our position and where rows of fragrant +new-mown hay lay by the riverside. They rode across that bridge into +the village of Borodino and thence turned to the left, passing an +enormous number of troops and guns, and came to a high knoll where +militiamen were digging. This was the redoubt, as yet unnamed, which +afterwards became known as the Raevski Redoubt, or the Knoll +Battery, but Pierre paid no special attention to it. He did not know +that it would become more memorable to him than any other spot on +the plain of Borodino. + +They then crossed the hollow to Semenovsk, where the soldiers were +dragging away the last logs from the huts and barns. Then they rode +downhill and uphill, across a ryefield trodden and beaten down as if +by hail, following a track freshly made by the artillery over the +furrows of the plowed land, and reached some fleches~^ which were still +being dug. + +^~ A kind of entrenchment. + +At the fleches Bennigsen stopped and began looking at the Shevardino +Redoubt opposite, which had been ours the day before and where several +horsemen could be descried. The officers said that either Napoleon +or Murat was there, and they all gazed eagerly at this little group of +horsemen. Pierre also looked at them, trying to guess which of the +scarcely discernible figures was Napoleon. At last those mounted men +rode away from the mound and disappeared. + +Bennigsen spoke to a general who approached him, and began +explaining the whole position of our troops. Pierre listened to him, +straining each faculty to understand the essential points of the +impending battle, but was mortified to feel that his mental capacity +was inadequate for the task. He could make nothing of it. Bennigsen +stopped speaking and, noticing that Pierre was listening, suddenly +said to him: + +"I don't think this interests you?" + +"On the contrary it's very interesting!" replied Pierre not quite +truthfully. + +From the fleches they rode still farther to the left, along a road +winding through a thick, low-growing birch wood. In the middle of +the wood a brown hare with white feet sprang out and, scared by the +tramp of the many horses, grew so confused that it leaped along the +road in front of them for some time, arousing general attention and +laughter, and only when several voices shouted at it did it dart to +one side and disappear in the thicket. After going through the wood +for about a mile and a half they came out on a glade where troops of +Tuchkov's corps were stationed to defend the left flank. + +Here, at the extreme left flank, Bennigsen talked a great deal and +with much heat, and, as it seemed to Pierre, gave orders of great +military importance. In front of Tuchkov's troops was some high ground +not occupied by troops. Bennigsen loudly criticized this mistake, +saying that it was madness to leave a height which commanded the +country around unoccupied and to place troops below it. Some of the +generals expressed the same opinion. One in particular declared with +martial heat that they were put there to be slaughtered. Bennigsen +on his own authority ordered the troops to occupy the high ground. +This disposition on the left flank increased Pierre's doubt of his own +capacity to understand military matters. Listening to Bennigsen and +the generals criticizing the position of the troops behind the hill, +he quite understood them and shared their opinion, but for that very +reason he could not understand how the man who put them there behind +the hill could have made so gross and palpable a blunder. + +Pierre did not know that these troops were not, as Bennigsen +supposed, put there to defend the position, but were in a concealed +position as an ambush, that they should not be seen and might be +able to strike an approaching enemy unexpectedly. Bennigsen did not +know this and moved the troops forward according to his own ideas +without mentioning the matter to the commander in chief. + +CHAPTER XXIV + +On that bright evening of August 25, Prince Andrew lay leaning on +his elbow in a broken-down shed in the village of Knyazkovo at the +further end of his regiment's encampment. Through a gap in the +broken wall he could see, beside the wooden fence, a row of thirty +year-old birches with their lower branches lopped off, a field on +which shocks of oats were standing, and some bushes near which rose +the smoke of campfires- the soldiers' kitchens. + +Narrow and burdensome and useless to anyone as his life now seemed +to him, Prince Andrew on the eve of battle felt agitated and irritable +as he had done seven years before at Austerlitz. + +He had received and given the orders for next day's battle and had +nothing more to do. But his thoughts- the simplest, clearest, and +therefore most terrible thoughts- would give him no peace. He knew +that tomorrow's battle would be the most terrible of all he had +taken part in, and for the first time in his life the possibility of +death presented itself to him- not in relation to any worldly matter +or with reference to its effect on others, but simply in relation to +himself, to his own soul- vividly, plainly, terribly, and almost as +a certainty. And from the height of this perception all that had +previously tormented and preoccupied him suddenly became illumined +by a cold white light without shadows, without perspective, without +distinction of outline. All life appeared to him like magic-lantern +pictures at which he had long been gazing by artificial light +through a glass. Now he suddenly saw those badly daubed pictures in +clear daylight and without a glass. "Yes, yes! There they are, those +false images that agitated, enraptured, and tormented me," said he +to himself, passing in review the principal pictures of the magic +lantern of life and regarding them now in the cold white daylight of +his clear perception of death. "There they are, those rudely painted +figures that once seemed splendid and mysterious. Glory, the good of +society, love of a woman, the Fatherland itself- how important these +pictures appeared to me, with what profound meaning they seemed to +be filled! And it is all so simple, pale, and crude in the cold +white light of this morning which I feel is dawning for me." The three +great sorrows of his life held his attention in particular: his love +for a woman, his father's death, and the French invasion which had +overrun half Russia. "Love... that little girl who seemed to me +brimming over with mystic forces! Yes, indeed, I loved her. I made +romantic plans of love and happiness with her! Oh, what a boy I +was!" he said aloud bitterly. "Ah me! I believed in some ideal love +which was to keep her faithful to me for the whole year of my absence! +Like the gentle dove in the fable she was to pine apart from me.... +But it was much simpler really.... It was all very simple and +horrible." + +"When my father built Bald Hills he thought the place was his: his +land, his air, his peasants. But Napoleon came and swept him aside, +unconscious of his existence, as he might brush a chip from his +path, and his Bald Hills and his whole life fell to pieces. Princess +Mary says it is a trial sent from above. What is the trial for, when +he is not here and will never return? He is not here! For whom then is +the trial intended? The Fatherland, the destruction of Moscow! And +tomorrow I shall be killed, perhaps not even by a Frenchman but by one +of our own men, by a soldier discharging a musket close to my ear as +one of them did yesterday, and the French will come and take me by +head and heels and fling me into a hole that I may not stink under +their noses, and new conditions of life will arise, which will seem +quite ordinary to others and about which I shall know nothing. I shall +not exist..." + +He looked at the row of birches shining in the sunshine, with +their motionless green and yellow foliage and white bark. "To die... +to be killed tomorrow... That I should not exist... That all this +should still be, but no me...." + +And the birches with their light and shade, the curly clouds, the +smoke of the campfires, and all that was around him changed and seemed +terrible and menacing. A cold shiver ran down his spine. He rose +quickly, went out of the shed, and began to walk about. + +After he had returned, voices were heard outside the shed. "Who's +that?" he cried. + +The red-nosed Captain Timokhin, formerly Dolokhov's squadron +commander, but now from lack of officers a battalion commander, +shyly entered the shed followed by an adjutant and the regimental +paymaster. + +Prince Andrew rose hastily, listened to the business they had come +about, gave them some further instructions, and was about to dismiss +them when he heard a familiar, lisping, voice behind the shed. + +"Devil take it!" said the voice of a man stumbling over something. + +Prince Andrew looked out of the shed and saw Pierre, who had tripped +over a pole on the ground and had nearly fallen, coming his way. It +was unpleasant to Prince Andrew to meet people of his own set in +general, and Pierre especially, for he reminded him of all the painful +moments of his last visit to Moscow. + +"You? What a surprise!" said he. "What brings you here? This is +unexpected!" + +As he said this his eyes and face expressed more than coldness- they +expressed hostility, which Pierre noticed at once. He had approached +the shed full of animation, but on seeing Prince Andrew's face he felt +constrained and ill at ease. + +"I have come... simply... you know... come... it interests me," said +Pierre, who had so often that day senselessly repeated that word +"interesting." "I wish to see the battle." + +"Oh yes, and what do the Masonic brothers say about war? How would +they stop it?" said Prince Andrew sarcastically. "Well, and how's +Moscow? And my people? Have they reached Moscow at last?" he asked +seriously. + +"Yes, they have. Julie Drubetskaya told me so. I went to see them, +but missed them. They have gone to your estate near Moscow." + +CHAPTER XXV + +The officers were about to take leave, but Prince Andrew, apparently +reluctant to be left alone with his friend, asked them to stay and +have tea. Seats were brought in and so was the tea. The officers gazed +with surprise at Pierre's huge stout figure and listened to his talk +of Moscow and the position of our army, round which he had ridden. +Prince Andrew remained silent, and his expression was so forbidding +that Pierre addressed his remarks chiefly to the good-natured +battalion commander. + +"So you understand the whole position of our troops?" Prince +Andrew interrupted him. + +"Yes- that is, how do you mean?" said Pierre. "Not being a +military man I can't say I have understood it fully, but I +understand the general position." + +"Well, then, you know more than anyone else, be it who it may," said +Prince Andrew. + +"Oh!" said Pierre, looking over his spectacles in perplexity at +Prince Andrew. "Well, and what do think of Kutuzov's appointment?" +he asked. + +"I was very glad of his appointment, that's all I know," replied +Prince Andrew. + +"And tell me your opinion of Barclay de Tolly. In Moscow they are +saying heaven knows what about him.... What do you think of him?" + +"Ask them," replied Prince Andrew, indicating the officers. + +Pierre looked at Timokhin with the condescendingly interrogative +smile with which everybody involuntarily addressed that officer. + +"We see light again, since his Serenity has been appointed, your +excellency," said Timokhin timidly, and continually turning to +glance at his colonel. + +"Why so?" asked Pierre. + +"Well, to mention only firewood and fodder, let me inform you. +Why, when we were retreating from Sventsyani we dare not touch a stick +or a wisp of hay or anything. You see, we were going away, so he would +get it all; wasn't it so, your excellency?" and again Timokhin +turned to the prince. "But we daren't. In our regiment two officers +were court-martialed for that kind of thing. But when his Serenity +took command everything became straight forward. Now we see light..." + +"Then why was it forbidden?" + +Timokhin looked about in confusion, not knowing what or how to +answer such a question. Pierre put the same question to Prince Andrew. + +"Why, so as not to lay waste the country we were abandoning to the +enemy," said Prince Andrew with venomous irony. "It is very sound: one +can't permit the land to be pillaged and accustom the troops to +marauding. At Smolensk too he judged correctly that the French might +outflank us, as they had larger forces. But he could not understand +this," cried Prince Andrew in a shrill voice that seemed to escape him +involuntarily: "he could not understand that there, for the first +time, we were fighting for Russian soil, and that there was a spirit +in the men such as I had never seen before, that we had held the +French for two days, and that that success had increased our +strength tenfold. He ordered us to retreat, and all our efforts and +losses went for nothing. He had no thought of betraying us, he tried +to do the best he could, he thought out everything, and that is why he +is unsuitable. He is unsuitable now, just because he plans out +everything very thoroughly and accurately as every German has to. +How can I explain?... Well, say your father has a German valet, and he +is a splendid valet and satisfies your father's requirements better +than you could, then it's all right to let him serve. But if your +father is mortally sick you'll send the valet away and attend to +your father with your own unpracticed, awkward hands, and will +soothe him better than a skilled man who is a stranger could. So it +has been with Barclay. While Russia was well, a foreigner could +serve her and be a splendid minister; but as soon as she is in +danger she needs one of her own kin. But in your Club they have been +making him out a traitor! They slander him as a traitor, and the +only result will be that afterwards, ashamed of their false +accusations, they will make him out a hero or a genius instead of a +traitor, and that will be still more unjust. He is an honest and +very punctilious German." + +"And they say he's a skillful commander," rejoined Pierre. + +"I don't understand what is meant by 'a skillful commander,'" +replied Prince Andrew ironically. + +"A skillful commander?" replied Pierre. "Why, one who foresees all +contingencies... and foresees the adversary's intentions." + +"But that's impossible," said Prince Andrew as if it were a matter +settled long ago. + +Pierre looked at him in surprise. + +"And yet they say that war is like a game of chess?" he remarked. + +"Yes," replied Prince Andrew, "but with this little difference, that +in chess you may think over each move as long as you please and are +not limited for time, and with this difference too, that a knight is +always stronger than a pawn, and two pawns are always stronger than +one, while in war a battalion is sometimes stronger than a division +and sometimes weaker than a company. The relative strength of bodies +of troops can never be known to anyone. Believe me," he went on, "if +things depended on arrangements made by the staff, I should be there +making arrangements, but instead of that I have the honor to serve +here in the regiment with these gentlemen, and I consider that on us +tomorrow's battle will depend and not on those others.... Success +never depends, and never will depend, on position, or equipment, or +even on numbers, and least of all on position." + +"But on what then?" + +"On the feeling that is in me and in him," he pointed to Timokhin, +"and in each soldier." + +Prince Andrew glanced at Timokhin, who looked at his commander in +alarm and bewilderment. In contrast to his former reticent taciturnity +Prince Andrew now seemed excited. He could apparently not refrain from +expressing the thoughts that had suddenly occurred to him. + +"A battle is won by those who firmly resolve to win it! Why did we +lose the battle at Austerlitz? The French losses were almost equal +to ours, but very early we said to ourselves that we were losing the +battle, and we did lose it. And we said so because we had nothing to +fight for there, we wanted to get away from the battlefield as soon as +we could. 'We've lost, so let us run,' and we ran. If we had not +said that till the evening, heaven knows what might not have happened. +But tomorrow we shan't say it! You talk about our position, the left +flank weak and the right flank too extended," he went on. "That's +all nonsense, there's nothing of the kind. But what awaits us +tomorrow? A hundred million most diverse chances which will be decided +on the instant by the fact that our men or theirs run or do not run, +and that this man or that man is killed, but all that is being done at +present is only play. The fact is that those men with whom you have +ridden round the position not only do not help matters, but hinder. +They are only concerned with their own petty interests." + +"At such a moment?" said Pierre reproachfully. + +"At such a moment!" Prince Andrew repeated. "To them it is only a +moment affording opportunities to undermine a rival and obtain an +extra cross or ribbon. For me tomorrow means this: a Russian army of a +hundred thousand and a French army of a hundred thousand have met to +fight, and the thing is that these two hundred thousand men will fight +and the side that fights more fiercely and spares itself least will +win. And if you like I will tell you that whatever happens and +whatever muddles those at the top may make, we shall win tomorrow's +battle. Tomorrow, happen what may, we shall win!" + +"There now, your excellency! That's the truth, the real truth," said +Timokhin. "Who would spare himself now? The soldiers in my +battalion, believe me, wouldn't drink their vodka! 'It's not the day +for that!' they say." + +All were silent. The officers rose. Prince Andrew went out of the +shed with them, giving final orders to the adjutant. After they had +gone Pierre approached Prince Andrew and was about to start a +conversation when they heard the clatter of three horses' hoofs on the +road not far from the shed, and looking in that direction Prince +Andrew recognized Wolzogen and Clausewitz accompanied by a Cossack. +They rode close by continuing to converse, and Prince Andrew +involuntarily heard these words: + +"Der Krieg muss in Raum verlegt werden. Der Ansicht kann ich nicht +genug Preis geben,"~^ said one of them. + +^~ "The war must be extended widely. I cannot sufficiently commend +that view." + +"Oh, ja," said the other, "der Zweck ist nur den Feind zu schwachen, +so kann man gewiss nicht den Verlust der Privat-Personen in Achtung +nehmen."~^ + +^~ "Oh, yes, the only aim is to weaken the enemy, so of course one +cannot take into account the loss of private individuals." + +"Oh, no," agreed the other. + +"Extend widely!" said Prince Andrew with an angry snort, when they +had ridden past. "In that 'extend' were my father, son, and sister, at +Bald Hills. That's all the same to him! That's what I was saying to +you- those German gentlemen won't win the battle tomorrow but will +only make all the mess they can, because they have nothing in their +German heads but theories not worth an empty eggshell and haven't in +their hearts the one thing needed tomorrow- that which Timokhin has. +They have yielded up all Europe to him, and have now come to teach us. +Fine teachers!" and again his voice grew shrill. + +"So you think we shall win tomorrow's battle?" asked Pierre. + +"Yes, yes," answered Prince Andrew absently. "One thing I would do +if I had the power," he began again, "I would not take prisoners. +Why take prisoners? It's chivalry! The French have destroyed my home +and are on their way to destroy Moscow, they have outraged and are +outraging me every moment. They are my enemies. In my opinion they are +all criminals. And so thinks Timokhin and the whole army. They +should be executed! Since they are my foes they cannot be my +friends, whatever may have been said at Tilsit." + +"Yes, yes," muttered Pierre, looking with shining eyes at Prince +Andrew. "I quite agree with you!" + +The question that had perturbed Pierre on the Mozhaysk hill and +all that day now seemed to him quite clear and completely solved. He +now understood the whole meaning and importance of this war and of the +impending battle. All he had seen that day, all the significant and +stern expressions on the faces he had seen in passing, were lit up for +him by a new light. He understood that latent heat (as they say in +physics) of patriotism which was present in all these men he had seen, +and this explained to him why they all prepared for death calmly, +and as it were lightheartedly. + +"Not take prisoners," Prince Andrew continued: "That by itself would +quite change the whole war and make it less cruel. As it is we have +played at war- that's what's vile! We play at magnanimity and all that +stuff. Such magnanimity and sensibility are like the magnanimity and +sensibility of a lady who faints when she sees a calf being killed: +she is so kind-hearted that she can't look at blood, but enjoys eating +the calf served up with sauce. They talk to us of the rules of war, of +chivalry, of flags of truce, of mercy to the unfortunate and so on. +It's all rubbish! I saw chivalry and flags of truce in 1805; they +humbugged us and we humbugged them. They plunder other people's +houses, issue false paper money, and worst of all they kill my +children and my father, and then talk of rules of war and +magnanimity to foes! Take no prisoners, but kill and be killed! He who +has come to this as I have through the same sufferings..." + +Prince Andrew, who had thought it was all the same to him whether or +not Moscow was taken as Smolensk had been, was suddenly checked in his +speech by an unexpected cramp in his throat. He paced up and down a +few times in silence, but his eyes glittered feverishly and his lips +quivered as he began speaking. + +"If there was none of this magnanimity in war, we should go to war +only when it was worth while going to certain death, as now. Then +there would not be war because Paul Ivanovich had offended Michael +Ivanovich. And when there was a war, like this one, it would be war! +And then the determination of the troops would be quite different. +Then all these Westphalians and Hessians whom Napoleon is leading +would not follow him into Russia, and we should not go to fight in +Austria and Prussia without knowing why. War is not courtesy but the +most horrible thing in life; and we ought to understand that and not +play at war. We ought to accept this terrible necessity sternly and +seriously. It all lies in that: get rid of falsehood and let war be +war and not a game. As it is now, war is the favorite pastime of the +idle and frivolous. The military calling is the most highly honored. + +"But what is war? What is needed for success in warfare? What are +the habits of the military? The aim of war is murder; the methods of +war are spying, treachery, and their encouragement, the ruin of a +country's inhabitants, robbing them or stealing to provision the army, +and fraud and falsehood termed military craft. The habits of the +military class are the absence of freedom, that is, discipline, +idleness, ignorance, cruelty, debauchery, and drunkenness. And in +spite of all this it is the highest class, respected by everyone. +All the kings, except the Chinese, wear military uniforms, and he +who kills most people receives the highest rewards. + +"They meet, as we shall meet tomorrow, to murder one another; they +kill and maim tens of thousands, and then have thanksgiving services +for having killed so many people (they even exaggerate the number), +and they announce a victory, supposing that the more people they +have killed the greater their achievement. How does God above look +at them and hear them?" exclaimed Prince Andrew in a shrill, +piercing voice. "Ah, my friend, it has of late become hard for me to +live. I see that I have begun to understand too much. And it doesn't +do for man to taste of the tree of knowledge of good and evil.... +Ah, well, it's not for long!" he added. + +"However, you're sleepy, and it's time for me to sleep. Go back to +Gorki!" said Prince Andrew suddenly. + +"Oh no!" Pierre replied, looking at Prince Andrew with frightened, +compassionate eyes. + +"Go, go! Before a battle one must have one's sleep out," repeated +Prince Andrew. + +He came quickly up to Pierre and embraced and kissed him. +"Good-by, be off!" he shouted. "Whether we meet again or not..." +and turning away hurriedly he entered the shed. + +It was already dark, and Pierre could not make out whether the +expression of Prince Andrew's face was angry or tender. + +For some time he stood in silence considering whether he should +follow him or go away. "No, he does not want it!" Pierre concluded. +"And I know that this is our last meeting!" He sighed deeply and +rode back to Gorki. + +On re-entering the shed Prince Andrew lay down on a rug, but he +could not sleep. + +He closed his eyes. One picture succeeded another in his +imagination. On one of them he dwelt long and joyfully. He vividly +recalled an evening in Petersburg. Natasha with animated and excited +face was telling him how she had gone to look for mushrooms the +previous summer and had lost her way in the big forest. She +incoherently described the depths of the forest, her feelings, and a +talk with a beekeeper she met, and constantly interrupted her story to +say: "No, I can't! I'm not telling it right; no, you don't +understand," though he encouraged her by saying that he did +understand, and he really had understood all she wanted to say. But +Natasha was not satisfied with her own words: she felt that they did +not convey the passionately poetic feeling she had experienced that +day and wished to convey. "He was such a delightful old man, and it +was so dark in the forest... and he had such kind... No, I can't +describe it," she had said, flushed and excited. Prince Andrew +smiled now the same happy smile as then when he had looked into her +eyes. "I understood her," he thought. "I not only understood her, +but it was just that inner, spiritual force, that sincerity, that +frankness of soul- that very soul of hers which seemed to be +fettered by her body- it was that soul I loved in her... loved so +strongly and happily..." and suddenly he remembered how his love had +ended. "He did not need anything of that kind. He neither saw nor +understood anything of the sort. He only saw in her a pretty and fresh +young girl, with whom he did not deign to unite his fate. And I?... +and he is still alive and gay!" + +Prince Andrew jumped up as if someone had burned him, and again +began pacing up and down in front of the shed. + +CHAPTER XXVI + +On August 25, the eve of the battle of Borodino, M. de Beausset, +prefect of the French Emperor's palace, arrived at Napoleon's quarters +at Valuevo with Colonel Fabvier, the former from Paris and the +latter from Madrid. + +Donning his court uniform, M. de Beausset ordered a box he had +brought for the Emperor to be carried before him and entered the first +compartment of Napoleon's tent, where he began opening the box while +conversing with Napoleon's aides-de-camp who surrounded him. + +Fabvier, not entering the tent, remained at the entrance talking +to some generals of his acquaintance. + +The Emperor Napoleon had not yet left his bedroom and was +finishing his toilet. Slightly snorting and grunting, he presented now +his back and now his plump hairy chest to the brush with which his +valet was rubbing him down. Another valet, with his finger over the +mouth of a bottle, was sprinkling Eau de Cologne on the Emperor's +pampered body with an expression which seemed to say that he alone +knew where and how much Eau de Cologne should be sprinkled. Napoleon's +short hair was wet and matted on the forehead, but his face, though +puffy and yellow, expressed physical satisfaction. "Go on, harder, +go on!" he muttered to the valet who was rubbing him, slightly +twitching and grunting. An aide-de-camp, who had entered the bedroom +to report to the Emperor the number of prisoners taken in +yesterday's action, was standing by the door after delivering his +message, awaiting permission to withdraw. Napoleon, frowning, looked +at him from under his brows. + +"No prisoners!" said he, repeating the aide-de-camp's words. "They +are forcing us to exterminate them. So much the worse for the +Russian army.... Go on... harder, harder!" he muttered, hunching his +back and presenting his fat shoulders. + +"All right. Let Monsieur de Beausset enter, and Fabvier too," he +said, nodding to the aide-de-camp. + +"Yes, sire," and the aide-de-camp disappeared through the door of +the tent. + +Two valets rapidly dressed His Majesty, and wearing the blue uniform +of the Guards he went with firm quick steps to the reception room. + +De Beausset's hands meanwhile were busily engaged arranging the +present he had brought from the Empress, on two chairs directly in +front of the entrance. But Napoleon had dressed and come out with such +unexpected rapidity that he had not time to finish arranging the +surprise. + +Napoleon noticed at once what they were about and guessed that +they were not ready. He did not wish to deprive them of the pleasure +of giving him a surprise, so he pretended not to see de Beausset and +called Fabvier to him, listening silently and with a stern frown to +what Fabvier told him of the heroism and devotion of his troops +fighting at Salamanca, at the other end of Europe, with but one +thought- to be worthy of their Emperor- and but one fear- to fail to +please him. The result of that battle had been deplorable. Napoleon +made ironic remarks during Fabvier's account, as if he had not +expected that matters could go otherwise in his absence. + +"I must make up for that in Moscow," said Napoleon. "I'll see you +later," he added, and summoned de Beausset, who by that time had +prepared the surprise, having placed something on the chairs and +covered it with a cloth. + +De Beausset bowed low, with that courtly French bow which only the +old retainers of the Bourbons knew how to make, and approached him, +presenting an envelope. + +Napoleon turned to him gaily and pulled his ear. + +"You have hurried here. I am very glad. Well, what is Paris saying?" +he asked, suddenly changing his former stern expression for a most +cordial tone. + +"Sire, all Paris regrets your absence," replied de Beausset as was +proper. + +But though Napoleon knew that de Beausset had to say something of +this kind, and though in his lucid moments he knew it was untrue, he +was pleased to hear it from him. Again he honored him by touching +his ear. + +"I am very sorry to have made you travel so far," said he. + +"Sire, I expected nothing less than to find you at the gates of +Moscow," replied de Beausset. + +Napoleon smiled and, lifting his head absentmindedly, glanced to the +right. An aide-de-camp approached with gliding steps and offered him a +gold snuffbox, which he took. + +"Yes, it has happened luckily for you," he said, raising the open +snuffbox to his nose. "You are fond of travel, and in three days you +will see Moscow. You surely did not expect to see that Asiatic +capital. You will have a pleasant journey." + +De Beausset bowed gratefully at this regard for his taste for travel +(of which he had not till then been aware). + +"Ha, what's this?" asked Napoleon, noticing that all the courtiers +were looking at something concealed under a cloth. + +With courtly adroitness de Beausset half turned and without +turning his back to the Emperor retired two steps, twitching off the +cloth at the same time, and said: + +"A present to Your Majesty from the Empress." + +It was a portrait, painted in bright colors by Gerard, of the son +borne to Napoleon by the daughter of the Emperor of Austria, the boy +whom for some reason everyone called "The King of Rome." + +A very pretty curly-headed boy with a look of the Christ in the +Sistine Madonna was depicted playing at stick and ball. The ball +represented the terrestrial globe and the stick in his other hand a +scepter. + +Though it was not clear what the artist meant to express by +depicting the so-called King of Rome spiking the earth with a stick, +the allegory apparently seemed to Napoleon, as it had done to all +who had seen it in Paris, quite clear and very pleasing. + +"The King of Rome!" he said, pointing to the portrait with a +graceful gesture. "Admirable!" + +With the natural capacity of an Italian for changing the +expression of his face at will, he drew nearer to the portrait and +assumed a look of pensive tenderness. He felt that what he now said +and did would be historical, and it seemed to him that it would now be +best for him- whose grandeur enabled his son to play stick and ball +with the terrestrial globe- to show, in contrast to that grandeur, the +simplest paternal tenderness. His eyes grew dim, he moved forward, +glanced round at a chair (which seemed to place itself under him), and +sat down on it before the portrait. At a single gesture from him +everyone went out on tiptoe, leaving the great man to himself and +his emotion. + +Having sat still for a while he touched- himself not knowing why- +the thick spot of paint representing the highest light in the +portrait, rose, and recalled de Beausset and the officer on duty. He +ordered the portrait to be carried outside his tent, that the Old +Guard, stationed round it, might not be deprived of the pleasure of +seeing the King of Rome, the son and heir of their adored monarch. + +And while he was doing M. de Beausset the honor of breakfasting with +him, they heard, as Napoleon had anticipated, the rapturous cries of +the officers and men of the Old Guard who had run up to see the +portrait. + +"Vive l'Empereur! Vive le roi de Rome! Vive l'Empereur!" came +those ecstatic cries. + +After breakfast Napoleon in de Beausset's presence dictated his +order of the day to the army. + +"Short and energetic!" he remarked when he had read over the +proclamation which he had dictated straight off without corrections. +It ran: + +Soldiers! This is the battle you have so longed for. Victory depends +on you. It is essential for us; it will give us all we need: +comfortable quarters and a speedy return to our country. Behave as you +did at Austerlitz, Friedland, Vitebsk, and Smolensk. Let our +remotest posterity recall your achievements this day with pride. Let +it be said of each of you: "He was in the great battle before Moscow!" + +"Before Moscow!" repeated Napoleon, and inviting M. de Beausset, who +was so fond of travel, to accompany him on his ride, he went out of +the tent to where the horses stood saddled. + +"Your Majesty is too kind!" replied de Beausset to the invitation to +accompany the Emperor; he wanted to sleep, did not know how to ride +and was afraid of doing so. + +But Napoleon nodded to the traveler, and de Beausset had to mount. +When Napoleon came out of the tent the shouting of the Guards before +his son's portrait grew still louder. Napoleon frowned. + +"Take him away!" he said, pointing with a gracefully majestic +gesture to the portrait. "It is too soon for him to see a field of +battle." + +De Beausset closed his eyes, bowed his head, and sighed deeply, to +indicate how profoundly he valued and comprehended the Emperor's +words. + +CHAPTER XXVII + +On the twenty-fifth of August, so his historians tell us, Napoleon +spent the whole day on horseback inspecting the locality, +considering plans submitted to him by his marshals, and personally +giving commands to his generals. + +The original line of the Russian forces along the river Kolocha +had been dislocated by the capture of the Shevardino Redoubt on the +twenty-fourth, and part of the line- the left flank- had been drawn +back. That part of the line was not entrenched and in front of it +the ground was more open and level than elsewhere. It was evident to +anyone, military or not, that it was here the French should attack. It +would seem that not much consideration was needed to reach this +conclusion, nor any particular care or trouble on the part of the +Emperor and his marshals, nor was there any need of that special and +supreme quality called genius that people are so apt to ascribe to +Napoleon; yet the historians who described the event later and the men +who then surrounded Napoleon, and he himself, thought otherwise. + +Napoleon rode over the plain and surveyed the locality with a +profound air and in silence, nodded with approval or shook his head +dubiously, and without communicating to the generals around him the +profound course of ideas which guided his decisions merely gave them +his final conclusions in the form of commands. Having listened to a +suggestion from Davout, who was now called Prince d'Eckmuhl, to turn +the Russian left wing, Napoleon said it should not be done, without +explaining why not. To a proposal made by General Campan (who was to +attack the fleches) to lead his division through the woods, Napoleon +agreed, though the so-called Duke of Elchingen (Ney) ventured to +remark that a movement through the woods was dangerous and might +disorder the division. + +Having inspected the country opposite the Shevardino Redoubt, +Napoleon pondered a little in silence and then indicated the spots +where two batteries should be set up by the morrow to act against +the Russian entrenchments, and the places where, in line with them, +the field artillery should be placed. + +After giving these and other commands he returned to his tent, and +the dispositions for the battle were written down from his dictation. + +These dispositions, of which the French historians write with +enthusiasm and other historians with profound respect, were as +follows: + +At dawn the two new batteries established during the night on the +plain occupied by the Prince d'Eckmuhl will open fire on the +opposing batteries of the enemy. + +At the same time the commander of the artillery of the 1st Corps, +General Pernetti, with thirty cannon of Campan's division and all +the howitzers of Dessaix's and Friant's divisions, will move +forward, open fire, and overwhelm with shellfire the enemy's +battery, against which will operate: + +_1 24 guns of the artillery of the Guards<br> +30 guns of Campan's division + +and 8 guns of Friant's and Dessaix's divisions + -- + +in all 62 guns. + +The commander of the artillery of the 3rd Corps, General Fouche, +will place the howitzers of the 3rd and 8th Corps, sixteen in all, +on the flanks of the battery that is to bombard the entrenchment on +the left, which will have forty guns in all directed against it. + +General Sorbier must be ready at the first order to advance with all +the howitzers of the Guard's artillery against either one or other +of the entrenchments. + +During the cannonade Prince Poniatowski is to advance through the +wood on the village and turn the enemy's position. + +General Campan will move through the wood to seize the first +fortification. + +After the advance has begun in this manner, orders will be given +in accordance with the enemy's movements. + +The cannonade on the left flank will begin as soon as the guns of +the right wing are heard. The sharpshooters of Morand's division and +of the vice-King's division will open a heavy fire on seeing the +attack commence on the right wing. + +The vice-King will occupy the village and cross by its three +bridges, advancing to the same heights as Morand's and Gibrard's +divisions, which under his leadership will be directed against the +redoubt and come into line with the rest of the forces. + +All this must be done in good order (le tout se fera avec ordre et +methode) as far as possible retaining troops in reserve. + +_1 The Imperial Camp near Mozhaysk,<br> +September, 6, 1812. + +These dispositions, which are very obscure and confused if one +allows oneself to regard the arrangements without religious awe of his +genius, related to Napoleon's orders to deal with four points- four +different orders. Not one of these was, or could be, carried out. + +In the disposition it is said first that the batteries placed on the +spot chosen by Napoleon, with the guns of Pernetti and Fouche; which +were to come in line with them, 102 guns in all, were to open fire and +shower shells on the Russian fleches and redoubts. This could not be +done, as from the spots selected by Napoleon the projectiles did not +carry to the Russian works, and those 102 guns shot into the air until +the nearest commander, contrary to Napoleon's instructions, moved them +forward. + +The second order was that Poniatowski, moving to the village through +the wood, should turn the Russian left flank. This could not be done +and was not done, because Poniatowski, advancing on the village +through the wood, met Tuchkov there barring his way, and could not and +did not turn the Russian position. + +The third order was: General Campan will move through the wood to +seize the first fortification. General Campan's division did not seize +the first fortification but was driven back, for on emerging from +the wood it had to reform under grapeshot, of which Napoleon was +unaware. + +The fourth order was: The vice-King will occupy the village +(Borodino) and cross by its three bridges, advancing to the same +heights as Morand's and Gdrard's divisions (for whose movements no +directions are given), which under his leadership will be directed +against the redoubt and come into line with the rest of the forces. + +As far as one can make out, not so much from this unintelligible +sentence as from the attempts the vice-King made to execute the orders +given him, he was to advance from the left through Borodino to the +redoubt while the divisions of Morand and Gerard were to advance +simultaneously from the front. + +All this, like the other parts of the disposition, was not and could +not be executed. After passing through Borodino the vice-King was +driven back to the Kolocha and could get no farther; while the +divisions of Morand and Gerard did not take the redoubt but were +driven back, and the redoubt was only taken at the end of the battle +by the cavalry (a thing probably unforeseen and not heard of by +Napoleon). So not one of the orders in the disposition was, or could +be, executed. But in the disposition it is said that, after the +fight has commenced in this manner, orders will be given in accordance +with the enemy's movements, and so it might be supposed that all +necessary arrangements would be made by Napoleon during the battle. +But this was not and could not be done, for during the whole battle +Napoleon was so far away that, as appeared later, he could not know +the course of the battle and not one of his orders during the fight +could be executed. + +CHAPTER XXVIII + +Many historians say that the French did not win the battle of +Borodino because Napoleon had a cold, and that if he had not had a +cold the orders he gave before and during the battle would have been +still more full of genius and Russia would have been lost and the face +of the world have been changed. To historians who believe that +Russia was shaped by the will of one man- Peter the Great- and that +France from a republic became an empire and French armies went to +Russia at the will of one man- Napoleon- to say that Russia remained a +power because Napoleon had a bad cold on the twenty-fourth of August +may seem logical and convincing. + +If it had depended on Napoleon's will to fight or not to fight the +battle of Borodino, and if this or that other arrangement depended +on his will, then evidently a cold affecting the manifestation of +his will might have saved Russia, and consequently the valet who +omitted to bring Napoleon his waterproof boots on the twenty-fourth +would have been the savior of Russia. Along that line of thought +such a deduction is indubitable, as indubitable as the deduction +Voltaire made in jest (without knowing what he was jesting at) when he +saw that the Massacre of St. Bartholomew was due to Charles IX's +stomach being deranged. But to men who do not admit that Russia was +formed by the will of one man, Peter I, or that the French Empire +was formed and the war with Russia begun by the will of one man, +Napoleon, that argument seems not merely untrue and irrational, but +contrary to all human reality. To the question of what causes historic +events another answer presents itself, namely, that the course of +human events is predetermined from on high- depends on the coincidence +of the wills of all who take part in the events, and that a Napoleon's +influence on the course of these events is purely external and +fictitious. + +Strange as at first glance it may seem to suppose that the +Massacre of St. Bartholomew was not due to Charles IX's will, though +he gave the order for it and thought it was done as a result of that +order; and strange as it may seem to suppose that the slaughter of +eighty thousand men at Borodino was not due to Napoleon's will, though +he ordered the commencement and conduct of the battle and thought it +was done because he ordered it; strange as these suppositions +appear, yet human dignity- which tells me that each of us is, if not +more at least not less a man than the great Napoleon- demands the +acceptance of that solution of the question, and historic +investigation abundantly confirms it. + +At the battle of Borodino Napoleon shot at no one and killed no one. +That was all done by the soldiers. Therefore it was not he who +killed people. + +The French soldiers went to kill and be killed at the battle of +Borodino not because of Napoleon's orders but by their own volition. +The whole army- French, Italian, German, Polish, and Dutch- hungry, +ragged, and weary of the campaign, felt at the sight of an army +blocking their road to Moscow that the wine was drawn and must be +drunk. Had Napoleon then forbidden them to fight the Russians, they +would have killed him and have proceeded to fight the Russians because +it was inevitable. + +When they heard Napoleon's proclamation offering them, as +compensation for mutilation and death, the words of posterity about +their having been in the battle before Moscow, they cried "Vive +l'Empereur!" just as they had cried "Vive l'Empereur!" at the sight of +the portrait of the boy piercing the terrestrial globe with a toy +stick, and just as they would have cried "Vive l'Empereur!" at any +nonsense that might be told them. There was nothing left for them to +do but cry "Vive l'Empereur!" and go to fight, in order to get food +and rest as conquerors in Moscow. So it was not because of +Napoleon's commands that they killed their fellow men. + +And it was not Napoleon who directed the course of the battle, for +none of his orders were executed and during the battle he did not know +what was going on before him. So the way in which these people +killed one another was not decided by Napoleon's will but occurred +independently of him, in accord with the will of hundreds of thousands +of people who took part in the common action. It only seemed to +Napoleon that it all took place by his will. And so the question +whether he had or had not a cold has no more historic interest than +the cold of the least of the transport soldiers. + +Moreover, the assertion made by various writers that his cold was +the cause of his dispositions not being as well planned as on former +occasions, and of his orders during the battle not being as good as +previously, is quite baseless, which again shows that Napoleon's +cold on the twenty-sixth of August was unimportant. + +The dispositions cited above are not at all worse, but are even +better, than previous dispositions by which he had won victories. +His pseudo-orders during the battle were also no worse than +formerly, but much the same as usual. These dispositions and orders +only seem worse than previous ones because the battle of Borodino +was the first Napoleon did not win. The profoundest and most excellent +dispositions and orders seem very bad, and every learned militarist +criticizes them with looks oks importance, when they relate to a +battle that has been lost, and the very worst dispositions and +orders seem very good, and serious people fill whole volumes to +demonstrate their merits, when they relate to a battle that has been +won. + +The dispositions drawn up by Weyrother for the battle of +Austerlitz were a model of perfection for that kind of composition, +but still they were criticized- criticized for their very +perfection, for their excessive minuteness. + +Napoleon at the battle of Borodino fulfilled his office as +representative of authority as well as, and even better than, at other +battles. He did nothing harmful to the progress of the battle; he +inclined to the most reasonable opinions, he made no confusion, did +not contradict himself, did not get frightened or run away from the +field of battle, but with his great tact and military experience +carried out his role of appearing to command, calmly and with dignity. + +CHAPTER XXIX + +On returning from a second inspection of the lines, Napoleon +remarked: + +"The chessmen are set up, the game will begin tomorrow!" + +Having ordered punch and summoned de Beausset, he began to talk to +him about Paris and about some changes he meant to make the Empress' +household, surprising the prefect by his memory of minute details +relating to the court. + +He showed an interest in trifles, joked about de Beausset's love +of travel, and chatted carelessly, as a famous, self-confident surgeon +who knows his job does when turning up his sleeves and putting on +his apron while a patient is being strapped to the operating table. +"The matter is in my hands and is clear and definite in my head. +When the times comes to set to work I shall do it as no one else +could, but now I can jest, and the more I jest and the calmer I am the +more tranquil and confident you ought to be, and the more amazed at my +genius." + +Having finished his second glass of punch, Napoleon went to rest +before the serious business which, he considered, awaited him next +day. He was so much interested in that task that he was unable to +sleep, and in spite of his cold which had grown worse from the +dampness of the evening, he went into the large division of the tent +at three o'clock in the morning, loudly blowing his nose. He asked +whether the Russians had not withdrawn, and was told that the +enemy's fires were still in the same places. He nodded approval. + +The adjutant in attendance came into the tent. + +"Well, Rapp, do you think we shall do good business today?" Napoleon +asked him. + +"Without doubt, sire," replied Rapp. + +Napoleon looked at him. + +"Do you remember, sire, what you did me the honor to say at +Smolensk?" continued Rapp. "The wine is drawn and must be drunk." + +Napoleon frowned and sat silent for a long time leaning his head +on his hand. + +"This poor army!" he suddenly remarked. "It has diminished greatly +since Smolensk. Fortune is frankly a courtesan, Rapp. I have always +said so and I am beginning to experience it. But the Guards, Rapp, the +Guards are intact?" he remarked interrogatively. + +"Yes, sire," replied Rapp. + +Napoleon took a lozenge, put it in his mouth, and glanced at his +watch. He was not sleepy and it was still not nearly morning. It was +impossible to give further orders for the sake of killing time, for +the orders had all been given and were now being executed. + +"Have the biscuits and rice been served out to the regiments of +the Guards?" asked Napoleon sternly. + +"Yes, sire." + +"The rice too?" + +Rapp replied that he had given the Emperor's order about the rice, +but Napoleon shook his head in dissatisfaction as if not believing +that his order had been executed. An attendant came in with punch. +Napoleon ordered another glass to be brought for Rapp, and silently +sipped his own. + +"I have neither taste nor smell," he remarked, sniffing at his +glass. "This cold is tiresome. They talk about medicine- what is the +good of medicine when it can't cure a cold! Corvisart gave me these +lozenges but they don't help at all. What can doctors cure? One +can't cure anything. Our body is a machine for living. It is organized +for that, it is its nature. Let life go on in it unhindered and let it +defend itself, it will do more than if you paralyze it by +encumbering it with remedies. Our body is like a perfect watch that +should go for a certain time; watchmaker cannot open it, he can only +adjust it by fumbling, and that blindfold.... Yes, our body is just +a machine for living, that is all." + +And having entered on the path of definition, of which he was +fond, Napoleon suddenly and unexpectedly gave a new one. + +"Do you know, Rapp, what military art is?" asked he. "It is the +art of being stronger than the enemy at a given moment. That's all." + +Rapp made no reply. + +"Tomorrow we shall have to deal with Kutuzov!" said Napoleon. "We +shall see! Do you remember at Braunau he commanded an army for three +weeks and did not once mount a horse to inspect his +entrenchments.... We shall see!" + +He looked at his watch. It was still only four o'clock. He did not +feel sleepy. The punch was finished and there was still nothing to do. +He rose, walked to and fro, put on a warm overcoat and a hat, and went +out of the tent. The night was dark and damp, a scarcely perceptible +moisture was descending from above. Near by, the campfires were +dimly burning among the French Guards, and in the distance those of +the Russian line shone through the smoke. The weather was calm, and +the rustle and tramp of the French troops already beginning to move to +take up their positions were clearly audible. + +Napoleon walked about in front of his tent, looked at the fires +and listened to these sounds, and as he was passing a tall guardsman +in a shaggy cap, who was standing sentinel before his tent and had +drawn himself up like a black pillar at sight of the Emperor, Napoleon +stopped in front of him. + +"What year did you enter the service?" he asked with that +affectation of military bluntness and geniality with which he always +addressed the soldiers. + +The man answered the question. + +"Ah! One of the old ones! Has your regiment had its rice?" + +"It has, Your Majesty." + +Napoleon nodded and walked away. + +At half-past five Napoleon rode to the village of Shevardino. + +It was growing light, the sky was clearing, only a single cloud +lay in the east. The abandoned campfires were burning themselves out +in the faint morning light. + +On the right a single deep report of a cannon resounded and died +away in the prevailing silence. Some minutes passed. A second and a +third report shook the air, then a fourth and a fifth boomed +solemnly near by on the right. + +The first shots had not yet ceased to reverberate before others rang +out and yet more were heard mingling with and overtaking one another. + +Napoleon with his suite rode up to the Shevardino Redoubt where he +dismounted. The game had begun. + +CHAPTER XXX + +On returning to Gorki after having seen Prince Andrew, Pierre +ordered his groom to get the horses ready and to call him early in the +morning, and then immediately fell asleep behind a partition in a +corner Boris had given up to him. + +Before he was thoroughly awake next morning everybody had already +left the hut. The panes were rattling in the little windows and his +groom was shaking him. + +"Your excellency! Your excellency! Your excellency!" he kept +repeating pertinaciously while he shook Pierre by the shoulder without +looking at him, having apparently lost hope of getting him to wake up. + +"What? Has it begun? Is it time?" Pierre asked, waking up. + +"Hear the firing," said the groom, a discharged soldier. "All the +gentlemen have gone out, and his Serene Highness himself rode past +long ago." + +Pierre dressed hastily and ran out to the porch. Outside all was +bright, fresh, dewy, and cheerful. The sun, just bursting forth from +behind a cloud that had concealed it, was shining, with rays still +half broken by the clouds, over the roofs of the street opposite, on +the dew-besprinkled dust of the road, on the walls of the houses, on +the windows, the fence, and on Pierre's horses standing before the +hut. The roar of guns sounded more distinct outside. An adjutant +accompanied by a Cossack passed by at a sharp trot. + +"It's time, Count; it's time!" cried the adjutant. + +Telling the groom to follow him with the horses, Pierre went down +the street to the knoll from which he had looked at the field of +battle the day before. A crowd of military men was assembled there, +members of the staff could be heard conversing in French, and +Kutuzov's gray head in a white cap with a red band was visible, his +gray nape sunk between his shoulders. He was looking through a field +glass down the highroad before him. + +Mounting the steps to the knoll Pierre looked at the scene before +him, spellbound by beauty. It was the same panorama he had admired +from that spot the day before, but now the whole place was full of +troops and covered by smoke clouds from the guns, and the slanting +rays of the bright sun, rising slightly to the left behind Pierre, +cast upon it through the clear morning air penetrating streaks of +rosy, golden tinted light and long dark shadows. The forest at the +farthest extremity of the panorama seemed carved in some precious +stone of a yellowish-green color; its undulating outline was +silhouetted against the horizon and was pierced beyond Valuevo by +the Smolensk highroad crowded with troops. Nearer at hand glittered +golden cornfields interspersed with copses. There were troops to be +seen everywhere, in front and to the right and left. All this was +vivid, majestic, and unexpected; but what impressed Pierre most of all +was the view of the battlefield itself, of Borodino and the hollows on +both sides of the Kolocha. + +Above the Kolocha, in Borodino and on both sides of it, especially +to the left where the Voyna flowing between its marshy banks falls +into the Kolocha, a mist had spread which seemed to melt, to dissolve, +and to become translucent when the brilliant sun appeared and +magically colored and outlined everything. The smoke of the guns +mingled with this mist, and over the whole expanse and through that +mist the rays of the morning sun were reflected, flashing back like +lightning from the water, from the dew, and from the bayonets of the +troops crowded together by the riverbanks and in Borodino. A white +church could be seen through the mist, and here and there the roofs of +huts in Borodino as well as dense masses of soldiers, or green +ammunition chests and ordnance. And all this moved, or seemed to move, +as the smoke and mist spread out over the whole space. Just as in +the mist-enveloped hollow near Borodino, so along the entire line +outside and above it and especially in the woods and fields to the +left, in the valleys and on the summits of the high ground, clouds +of powder smoke seemed continually to spring up out of nothing, now +singly, now several at a time, some translucent, others dense, +which, swelling, growing, rolling, and blending, extended over the +whole expanse. + +These puffs of smoke and (strange to say) the sound of sound of +the firing produced the chief beauty of the spectacle. + +"Puff!"- suddenly a round compact cloud of smoke was seen merging +from violet into gray and milky white, and "boom!" came the report a +second later. + +"Puff! puff!"- and two clouds arose pushing one another and blending +together; and "boom, boom!" came the sounds confirming what the eye +had seen. + +Pierre glanced round at the first cloud, which he had seen as a +round compact ball, and in its place already were balloons of smoke +floating to one side, and- "puff" (with a pause)- "puff, puff!" +three and then four more appeared and then from each, with the same +interval- "boom- boom, boom!" came the fine, firm, precise sounds in +reply. It seemed as if those smoke clouds sometimes ran and +sometimes stood still while woods, fields, and glittering bayonets ran +past them. From the left, over fields and bushes, those large balls of +smoke were continually appearing followed by their solemn reports, +while nearer still, in the hollows and woods, there burst from the +muskets small cloudlets that had no time to become balls, but had +their little echoes in just the same way. "Trakh-ta-ta-takh!" came the +frequent crackle of musketry, but it was irregular and feeble in +comparison with the reports of the cannon. + +Pierre wished to be there with that smoke, those shining bayonets, +that movement, and those sounds. He turned to look at Kutuzov and +his suite, to compare his impressions with those of others. They +were all looking at the field of battle as he was, and, as it seemed +to him, with the same feelings. All their faces were now shining +with that latent warmth of feeling Pierre had noticed the day before +and had fully understood after his talk with Prince Andrew. + +"Go, my dear fellow, go... and Christ be with you!" Kutuzov was +saying to a general who stood beside him, not taking his eye from +the battlefield. + +Having received this order the general passed by Pierre on his way +down the knoll. + +"To the crossing!" said the general coldly and sternly in reply to +one of the staff who asked where he was going. + +"I'll go there too, I too!" thought Pierre, and followed the +general. + +The general mounted a horse a Cossack had brought him. Pierre went +to his groom who was holding his horses and, asking which was the +quietest, clambered onto it, seized it by the mane, and turning out +his toes pressed his heels against its sides and, feeling that his +spectacles were slipping off but unable to let go of the mane and +reins, he galloped after the general, causing the staff officers to +smile as they watched him from the knoll. + +CHAPTER XXXI + +Having descended the hill the general after whom Pierre was +galloping turned sharply to the left, and Pierre, losing sight of him, +galloped in among some ranks of infantry marching ahead of him. He +tried to pass either in front of them or to the right or left, but +there were soldiers everywhere, all with expression and busy with some +unseen but evidently important task. They all gazed with the same +dissatisfied and inquiring expression at this stout man in a white +hat, who for some unknown reason threatened to trample them under +his horse's hoofs. + +"Why ride into the middle of the battalion?" one of them shouted +at him. + +Another prodded his horse with the butt end of a musket, and Pierre, +bending over his saddlebow and hardly able to control his shying +horse, galloped ahead of the soldiers where there was a free space. + +There was a bridge ahead of him, where other soldiers stood +firing. Pierre rode up to them. Without being aware of it he had +come to the bridge across the Kolocha between Gorki and Borodino, +which the French (having occupied Borodino) were attacking in the +first phase of the battle. Pierre saw that there was a bridge in front +of him and that soldiers were doing something on both sides of it +and in the meadow, among the rows of new-mown hay which he had taken +no notice of amid the smoke of the campfires the day before; but +despite the incessant firing going on there he had no idea that this +was the field of battle. He did not notice the sound of the bullets +whistling from every side, or the projectiles that flew over him, +did not see the enemy on the other side of the river, and for a long +time did not notice the killed and wounded, though many fell near him. +He looked about him with a smile which did not leave his face. + +"Why's that fellow in front of the line?" shouted somebody at him +again. + +"To the left!... Keep to the right!" the men shouted to him. + +Pierre went to the right, and unexpectedly encountered one of +Raevski's adjutants whom he knew. The adjutant looked angrily at +him, evidently also intending to shout at him, but on recognizing +him he nodded. + +"How have you got here?" he said, and galloped on. + +Pierre, feeling out of place there, having nothing to do, and afraid +of getting in someone's way again, galloped after the adjutant. + +"What's happening here? May I come with you?" he asked. + +"One moment, one moment!" replied the adjutant, and riding up to a +stout colonel who was standing in the meadow, he gave him some message +and then addressed Pierre. + +"Why have you come here, Count?" he asked with a smile. "Still +inquisitive?" + +"Yes, yes," assented Pierre. + +But the adjutant turned his horse about and rode on. + +"Here it's tolerable," said he, "but with Bagration on the left +flank they're getting it frightfully hot." + +"Really?" said Pierre. "Where is that?" + +"Come along with me to our knoll. We can get a view from there and +in our battery it is still bearable," said the adjutant. "Will you +come?" + +"Yes, I'll come with you," replied Pierre, looking round for his +groom. + +It was only now that he noticed wounded men staggering along or +being carried on stretchers. On that very meadow he had ridden over +the day before, a soldier was lying athwart the rows of scented hay, +with his head thrown awkwardly back and his shako off. + +"Why haven't they carried him away?" Pierre was about to ask, but +seeing the stern expression of the adjutant who was also looking +that way, he checked himself. + +Pierre did not find his groom and rode along the hollow with the +adjutant to Raevski's Redoubt. His horse lagged behind the +adjutant's and jolted him at every step. + +"You don't seem to be used to riding, Count?" remarked the adjutant. + +"No it's not that, but her action seems so jerky," said Pierre in +a puzzled tone. + +"Why... she's wounded!" said the adjutant. "In the off foreleg above +the knee. A bullet, no doubt. I congratulate you, Count, on your +baptism of fire!" + +Having ridden in the smoke past the Sixth Corps, behind the +artillery which had been moved forward and was in action, deafening +them with the noise of firing, they came to a small wood. There it was +cool and quiet, with a scent of autumn. Pierre and the adjutant +dismounted and walked up the hill on foot. + +"Is the general here?" asked the adjutant on reaching the knoll. + +"He was here a minute ago but has just gone that way," someone +told him, pointing to the right. + +The adjutant looked at Pierre as if puzzled what to do with him now. + +"Don't trouble about me," said Pierre. "I'll go up onto the knoll if +I may?" + +"Yes, do. You'll see everything from there and it's less +dangerous, and I'll come for you." + +Pierre went to the battery and the adjutant rode on. They did not +meet again, and only much later did Pierre learn that he lost an arm +that day. + +The knoll to which Pierre ascended was that famous one afterwards +known to the Russians as the Knoll Battery or Raevski's Redoubt, and +to the French as la grande redoute, la fatale redoute, la redoute du +centre, around which tens of thousands fell, and which the French +regarded as the key to the whole position. + +This redoubt consisted of a knoll, on three sides of which +trenches had been dug. Within the entrenchment stood ten guns that +were being fired through openings in the earthwork. + +In line with the knoll on both sides stood other guns which also +fired incessantly. A little behind the guns stood infantry. When +ascending that knoll Pierre had no notion that this spot, on which +small trenches had been dug and from which a few guns were firing, was +the most important point of the battle. + +On the contrary, just because he happened to be there he thought +it one of the least significant parts of the field. + +Having reached the knoll, Pierre sat down at one end of a trench +surrounding the battery and gazed at what was going on around him with +an unconsciously happy smile. Occasionally he rose and walked about +the battery still with that same smile, trying not to obstruct the +soldiers who were loading, hauling the guns, and continually running +past him with bags and charges. The guns of that battery were being +fired continually one after another with a deafening roar, +enveloping the whole neighborhood in powder smoke. + +In contrast with the dread felt by the infantrymen placed in +support, here in the battery where a small number of men busy at their +work were separated from the rest by a trench, everyone experienced +a common and as it were family feeling of animation. + +The intrusion of Pierre's nonmilitary figure in a white hat made +an unpleasant impression at first. The soldiers looked askance at +him with surprise and even alarm as they went past him. The senior +artillery officer, a tall, long-legged, pockmarked man, moved over +to Pierre as if to see the action of the farthest gun and looked at +him with curiosity. + +A young round-faced officer, quite a boy still and evidently only +just out of the Cadet College, who was zealously commanding the two +guns entrusted to him, addressed Pierre sternly. + +"Sir," he said, "permit me to ask you to stand aside. You must not +be here." + +The soldiers shook their heads disapprovingly as they looked at +Pierre. But when they had convinced themselves that this man in the +white hat was doing no harm, but either sat quietly on the slope of +the trench with a shy smile or, politely making way for the +soldiers, paced up and down the battery under fire as calmly as if +he were on a boulevard, their feeling of hostile distrust gradually +began to change into a kindly and bantering sympathy, such as soldiers +feel for their dogs, cocks, goats, and in general for the animals that +live with the regiment. The men soon accepted Pierre into their +family, adopted him, gave him a nickname ("our gentleman"), and made +kindly fun of him among themselves. + +A shell tore up the earth two paces from Pierre and he looked around +with a smile as he brushed from his clothes some earth it had thrown +up. + +"And how's it you're not afraid, sir, really now?" a red-faced, +broad-shouldered soldier asked Pierre, with a grin that disclosed a +set of sound, white teeth. + +"Are you afraid, then?" said Pierre. + +"What else do you expect?" answered the soldier. "She has no +mercy, you know! When she comes spluttering down, out go your innards. +One can't help being afraid," he said laughing. + +Several of the men, with bright kindly faces, stopped beside Pierre. +They seemed not to have expected him to talk like anybody else, and +the discovery that he did so delighted them. + +"It's the business of us soldiers. But in a gentleman it's +wonderful! There's a gentleman for you!" + +"To your places!" cried the young officer to the men gathered +round Pierre. + +The young officer was evidently exercising his duties for the +first or second time and therefore treated both his superiors and +the men with great precision and formality. + +The booming cannonade and the fusillade of musketry were growing +more intense over the whole field, especially to the left where +Bagration's fleches were, but where Pierre was the smoke of the firing +made it almost impossible to distinguish anything. Moreover, his whole +attention was engrossed by watching the family circle- separated +from all else- formed by the men in the battery. His first unconscious +feeling of joyful animation produced by the sights and sounds of the +battlefield was now replaced by another, especially since he had +seen that soldier lying alone in the hayfield. Now, seated on the +slope of the trench, he observed the faces of those around him. + +By ten o'clock some twenty men had already been carried away from +the battery; two guns were smashed and cannon balls fell more and more +frequently on the battery and spent bullets buzzed and whistled +around. But the men in the battery seemed not to notice this, and +merry voices and jokes were heard on all sides. + +"A live one!" shouted a man as a whistling shell approached. + +"Not this way! To the infantry!" added another with loud laughter, +seeing the shell fly past and fall into the ranks of the supports. + +"Are you bowing to a friend, eh?" remarked another, chaffing a +peasant who ducked low as a cannon ball flew over. + +Several soldiers gathered by the wall of the trench, looking out +to see what was happening in front. + +"They've withdrawn the front line, it has retired," said they, +pointing over the earthwork. + +"Mind your own business," an old sergeant shouted at them. "If +they've retired it's because there's work for them to do farther +back." + +And the sergeant, taking one of the men by the shoulders, gave him a +shove with his knee. This was followed by a burst of laughter. + +"To the fifth gun, wheel it up!" came shouts from one side. + +"Now then, all together, like bargees!" rose the merry voices of +those who were moving the gun. + +"Oh, she nearly knocked our gentleman's hat off!" cried the +red-faced humorist, showing his teeth chaffing Pierre. "Awkward +baggage!" he added reproachfully to a cannon ball that struck a cannon +wheel and a man's leg. + +"Now then, you foxes!" said another, laughing at some militiamen +who, stooping low, entered the battery to carry away the wounded man. + +"So this gruel isn't to your taste? Oh, you crows! You're scared!" +they shouted at the militiamen who stood hesitating before the man +whose leg had been torn off. + +"There, lads... oh, oh!" they mimicked the peasants, "they don't +like it at all!" + +Pierre noticed that after every ball that hit the redoubt, and after +every loss, the liveliness increased more and more. + +As the flames of the fire hidden within come more and more vividly +and rapidly from an approaching thundercloud, so, as if in +opposition to what was taking place, the lightning of hidden fire +growing more and more intense glowed in the faces of these men. + +Pierre did not look out at the battlefield and was not concerned +to know what was happening there; he was entirely absorbed in watching +this fire which burned ever more brightly and which he felt was +flaming up in the same way in his own soul. + +At ten o'clock the infantry that had been among the bushes in +front of the battery and along the Kamenka streamlet retreated. From +the battery they could be seen running back past it carrying their +wounded on their muskets. A general with his suite came to the +battery, and after speaking to the colonel gave Pierre an angry look +and went away again having ordered the infantry supports behind the +battery to lie down, so as to be less exposed to fire. After this from +amid the ranks of infantry to the right of the battery came the +sound of a drum and shouts of command, and from the battery one saw +how those ranks of infantry moved forward. + +Pierre looked over the wall of the trench and was particularly +struck by a pale young officer who, letting his sword hang down, was +walking backwards and kept glancing uneasily around. + +The ranks of the infantry disappeared amid the smoke but their +long-drawn shout and rapid musketry firing could still be heard. A few +minutes later crowds of wounded men and stretcher-bearers came back +from that direction. Projectiles began to fall still more frequently +in the battery. Several men were lying about who had not been removed. +Around the cannon the men moved still more briskly and busily. No +one any longer took notice of Pierre. Once or twice he was shouted +at for being in the way. The senior officer moved with big, rapid +strides from one gun to another with a frowning face. The young +officer, with his face still more flushed, commanded the men more +scrupulously than ever. The soldiers handed up the charges, turned, +loaded, and did their business with strained smartness. They gave +little jumps as they walked, as though they were on springs. + +The stormcloud had come upon them, and in every face the fire +which Pierre had watched kindle burned up brightly. Pierre standing +beside the commanding officer. The young officer, his hand to his +shako, ran up to his superior. + +"I have the honor to report, sir, that only eight rounds are left. +Are we to continue firing?" he asked. + +"Grapeshot!" the senior shouted, without answering the question, +looking over the wall of the trench. + +Suddenly something happened: the young officer gave a gasp and +bending double sat down on the ground like a bird shot on the wing. +Everything became strange, confused, and misty in Pierre's eyes. + +One cannon ball after another whistled by and struck the +earthwork, a soldier, or a gun. Pierre, who had not noticed these +sounds before, now heard nothing else. On the right of the battery +soldiers shouting "Hurrah!" were running not forwards but backwards, +it seemed to Pierre. + +A cannon ball struck the very end of the earth work by which he +was standing, crumbling down the earth; a black ball flashed before +his eyes and at the same instant plumped into something. Some +militiamen who were entering the battery ran back. + +"All with grapeshot!" shouted the officer. + +The sergeant ran up to the officer and in a frightened whisper +informed him (as a butler at dinner informs his master that there is +no more of some wine asked for) that there were no more charges. + +"The scoundrels! What are they doing?" shouted the officer, +turning to Pierre. + +The officer's face was red and perspiring and his eyes glittered +under his frowning brow. + +"Run to the reserves and bring up the ammunition boxes!" he +yelled, angrily avoiding Pierre with his eyes and speaking to his men. + +"I'll go," said Pierre. + +The officer, without answering him, strode across to the opposite +side. + +"Don't fire.... Wait!" he shouted. + +The man who had been ordered to go for ammunition stumbled against +Pierre. + +"Eh, sir, this is no place for you," said he, and ran down the +slope. + +Pierre ran after him, avoiding the spot where the young officer +was sitting. + +One cannon ball, another, and a third flew over him, falling in +front, beside, and behind him. Pierre ran down the slope. "Where am +I going?" he suddenly asked himself when he was already near the green +ammunition wagons. He halted irresolutely, not knowing whether to +return or go on. Suddenly a terrible concussion threw him backwards to +the ground. At the same instant he was dazzled by a great flash of +flame, and immediately a deafening roar, crackling, and whistling made +his ears tingle. + +When he came to himself he was sitting on the ground leaning on +his hands; the ammunition wagons he had been approaching no longer +existed, only charred green boards and rags littered the scorched +grass, and a horse, dangling fragments of its shaft behind it, +galloped past, while another horse lay, like Pierre, on the ground, +uttering prolonged and piercing cries. + +CHAPTER XXXII + +Beside himself with terror Pierre jumped up and ran back to the +battery, as to the only refuge from the horrors that surrounded him. + +On entering the earthwork he noticed that there were men doing +something there but that no shots were being fired from the battery. +He had no time to realize who these men were. He saw the senior +officer lying on the earth wall with his back turned as if he were +examining something down below and that one of the soldiers he had +noticed before was struggling forward shouting "Brothers!" and +trying to free himself from some men who were holding him by the +arm. He also saw something else that was strange. + +But he had not time to realize that the colonel had been killed, +that the soldier shouting "Brothers!" was a prisoner, and that another +man had been bayoneted in the back before his eyes, for hardly had +he run into the redoubt before a thin, sallow-faced, perspiring man in +a blue uniform rushed on him sword in hand, shouting something. +Instinctively guarding against the shock- for they had been running +together at full speed before they saw one another- Pierre put out his +hands and seized the man (a French officer) by the shoulder with one +hand and by the throat with the other. The officer, dropping his +sword, seized Pierre by his collar. + +For some seconds they gazed with frightened eyes at one another's +unfamiliar faces and both were perplexed at what they had done and +what they were to do next. "Am I taken prisoner or have I taken him +prisoner?" each was thinking. But the French officer was evidently +more inclined to think he had been taken prisoner because Pierre's +strong hand, impelled by instinctive fear, squeezed his throat ever +tighter and tighter. The Frenchman was about to say something, when +just above their heads, terrible and low, a cannon ball whistled, +and it seemed to Pierre that the French officer's head had been torn +off, so swiftly had he ducked it. + +Pierre too bent his head and let his hands fall. Without further +thought as to who had taken whom prisoner, the Frenchman ran back to +the battery and Pierre ran down the slope stumbling over the dead +and wounded who, it seemed to him, caught at his feet. But before he +reached the foot of the knoll he was met by a dense crowd of Russian +soldiers who, stumbling, tripping up, and shouting, ran merrily and +wildly toward the battery. (This was the attack for which Ermolov +claimed the credit, declaring that only his courage and good luck made +such a feat possible: it was the attack in which he was said to have +thrown some St. George's Crosses he had in his pocket into the battery +for the first soldiers to take who got there.) + +The French who had occupied the battery fled, and our troops +shouting "Hurrah!" pursued them so far beyond the battery that it +was difficult to call them back. + +The prisoners were brought down from the battery and among them +was a wounded French general, whom the officers surrounded. Crowds +of wounded- some known to Pierre and some unknown- Russians and +French, with faces distorted by suffering, walked, crawled, and were +carried on stretchers from the battery. Pierre again went up onto +the knoll where he had spent over an hour, and of that family circle +which had received him as a member he did not find a single one. There +were many dead whom he did not know, but some he recognized. The young +officer still sat in the same way, bent double, in a pool of blood +at the edge of the earth wall. The red-faced man was still +twitching, but they did not carry him away. + +Pierre ran down the slope once more. + +"Now they will stop it, now they will be horrified at what they have +done!" he thought, aimlessly going toward a crowd of stretcher bearers +moving from the battlefield. + +But behind the veil of smoke the sun was still high, and in front +and especially to the left, near Semenovsk, something seemed to be +seething in the smoke, and the roar of cannon and musketry did not +diminish, but even increased to desperation like a man who, +straining himself, shrieks with all his remaining strength. + +CHAPTER XXXIII + +The chief action of the battle of Borodino was fought within the +seven thousand feet between Borodino and Bagration's fleches. Beyond +that space there was, on the one side, a demonstration made by the +Russians with Uvarov's cavalry at midday, and on the other side, +beyond Utitsa, Poniatowski's collision with Tuchkov; but these two +were detached and feeble actions in comparison with what took place in +the center of the battlefield. On the field between Borodino and the +fleches, beside the wood, the chief action of the day took place on an +open space visible from both sides and was fought in the simplest +and most artless way. + +The battle began on both sides with a cannonade from several hundred +guns. + +Then when the whole field was covered with smoke, two divisions, +Campan's and Dessaix's, advanced from the French right, while +Murat's troops advanced on Borodino from their left. + +From the Shevardino Redoubt where Napoleon was standing the +fleches were two thirds of a mile away, and it was more than a mile as +the crow flies to Borodino, so that Napoleon could not see what was +happening there, especially as the smoke mingling with the mist hid +the whole locality. The soldiers of Dessaix's division advancing +against the fleches could only be seen till they had entered the +hollow that lay between them and the fleches. As soon as they had +descended into that hollow, the smoke of the guns and musketry on +the fleches grew so dense that it covered the whole approach on that +side of it. Through the smoke glimpses could be caught of something +black- probably men- and at times the glint of bayonets. But whether +they were moving or stationary, whether they were French or Russian, +could not be discovered from the Shevardino Redoubt. + +The sun had risen brightly and its slanting rays struck straight +into Napoleon's face as, shading his eyes with his hand, he looked +at the fleches. The smoke spread out before them, and at times it +looked as if the smoke were moving, at times as if the troops moved. +Sometimes shouts were heard through the firing, but it was +impossible to tell what was being done there. + +Napoleon, standing on the knoll, looked through a field glass, and +in its small circlet saw smoke and men, sometimes his own and +sometimes Russians, but when he looked again with the naked eye, he +could not tell where what he had seen was. + +He descended the knoll and began walking up and down before it. + +Occasionally he stopped, listened to the firing, and gazed +intently at the battlefield. + +But not only was it impossible to make out what was happening from +where he was standing down below, or from the knoll above on which +some of his generals had taken their stand, but even from the +fleches themselves- in which by this time there were now Russian and +now French soldiers, alternately or together, dead, wounded, alive, +frightened, or maddened- even at those fleches themselves it was +impossible to make out what was taking place. There for several +hours amid incessant cannon and musketry fire, now Russians were +seen alone, now Frenchmen alone, now infantry, and now cavalry: they +appeared, fired, fell, collided, not knowing what to do with one +another, screamed, and ran back again. + +From the battlefield adjutants he had sent out, and orderlies from +his marshals, kept galloping up to Napoleon with reports of the +progress of the action, but all these reports were false, both because +it was impossible in the heat of battle to say what was happening at +any given moment and because many of the adjutants did not go to the +actual place of conflict but reported what they had heard from others; +and also because while an adjutant was riding more than a mile to +Napoleon circumstances changed and the news he brought was already +becoming false. Thus an adjutant galloped up from Murat with tidings +that Borodino had been occupied and the bridge over the Kolocha was in +the hands of the French. The adjutant asked whether Napoleon wished +the troops to cross it? Napoleon gave orders that the troops should +form up on the farther side and wait. But before that order was given- +almost as soon in fact as the adjutant had left Borodino- the bridge +had been retaken by the Russians and burned, in the very skirmish at +which Pierre had been present at the beginning of the battle. + +An adjutant galloped up from the fleches with a pale and +frightened face and reported to Napoleon that their attack had been +repulsed, Campan wounded, and Davout killed; yet at the very time +the adjutant had been told that the French had been repulsed, the +fleches had in fact been recaptured by other French troops, and Davout +was alive and only slightly bruised. On the basis of these necessarily +untrustworthy reports Napoleon gave his orders, which had either +been executed before he gave them or could not be and were not +executed. + +The marshals and generals, who were nearer to the field of battle +but, like Napoleon, did not take part in the actual fighting and +only occasionally went within musket range, made their own +arrangements without asking Napoleon and issued orders where and in +what direction to fire and where cavalry should gallop and infantry +should run. But even their orders, like Napoleon's, were seldom +carried out, and then but partially. For the most part things happened +contrary to their orders. Soldiers ordered to advance ran back on +meeting grapeshot; soldiers ordered to remain where they were, +suddenly, seeing Russians unexpectedly before them, sometimes rushed +back and sometimes forward, and the cavalry dashed without orders in +pursuit of the flying Russians. In this way two cavalry regiments +galloped through the Semenovsk hollow and as soon as they reached +the top of the incline turned round and galloped full speed back +again. The infantry moved in the same way, sometimes running to +quite other places than those they were ordered to go to. All orders +as to where and when to move the guns, when to send infantry to +shoot or horsemen to ride down the Russian infantry- all such orders +were given by the officers on the spot nearest to the units concerned, +without asking either Ney, Davout, or Murat, much less Napoleon. +They did not fear getting into trouble for not fulfilling orders or +for acting on their own initiative, for in battle what is at stake +is what is dearest to man- his own life- and it sometimes seems that +safety lies in running back, sometimes in running forward; and these +men who were right in the heat of the battle acted according to the +mood of the moment. In reality, however, all these movements forward +and backward did not improve or alter the position of the troops. +All their rushing and galloping at one another did little harm, the +harm of disablement and death was caused by the balls and bullets that +flew over the fields on which these men were floundering about. As +soon as they left the place where the balls and bullets were flying +about, their superiors, located in the background, re-formed them +and brought them under discipline and under the influence of that +discipline led them back to the zone of fire, where under the +influence of fear of death they lost their discipline and rushed about +according to the chance promptings of the throng. + +CHAPTER XXXIV + +Napoleon's generals- Davout, Ney, and Murat, who were near that +region of fire and sometimes even entered it- repeatedly led into it +huge masses of well-ordered troops. But contrary to what had always +happened in their former battles, instead of the news they expected of +the enemy's flight, these orderly masses returned thence as +disorganized and terrified mobs. The generals re-formed them, but +their numbers constantly decreased. In the middle of the day Murat +sent his adjutant to Napoleon to demand reinforcements. + +Napoleon sat at the foot of the knoll, drinking punch, when +Murat's adjutant galloped up with an assurance that the Russians would +be routed if His Majesty would let him have another division. + +"Reinforcements?" said Napoleon in a tone of stern surprise, looking +at the adjutant- a handsome lad with long black curls arranged like +Murat's own- as though he did not understand his words. + +"Reinforcements!" thought Napoleon to himself. "How can they need +reinforcements when they already have half the army directed against a +weak, unentrenched Russian wing?" + +"Tell the King of Naples," said he sternly, "that it is not noon +yet, and I don't yet see my chessboard clearly. Go!..." + +The handsome boy adjutant with the long hair sighed deeply without +removing his hand from his hat and galloped back to where men were +being slaughtered. + +Napoleon rose and having summoned Caulaincourt and Berthier began +talking to them about matters unconnected with the battle. + +In the midst of this conversation, which was beginning to interest +Napoleon, Berthier's eyes turned to look at a general with a suite, +who was galloping toward the knoll on a lathering horse. It was +Belliard. Having dismounted he went up to the Emperor with rapid +strides and in a loud voice began boldly demonstrating the necessity +of sending reinforcements. He swore on his honor that the Russians +were lost if the Emperor would give another division. + +Napoleon shrugged his shoulders and continued to pace up and down +without replying. Belliard began talking loudly and eagerly to the +generals of the suite around him. + +"You are very fiery, Belliard," said Napoleon, when he again came up +to the general. "In the heat of a battle it is easy to make a mistake. +Go and have another look and then come back to me." + +Before Belliard was out of sight, a messenger from another part of +the battlefield galloped up. + +"Now then, what do you want?" asked Napoleon in the tone of a man +irritated at being continually disturbed. + +"Sire, the prince..." began the adjutant. + +"Asks for reinforcements?" said Napoleon with an angry gesture. + +The adjutant bent his head affirmatively and began to report, but +the Emperor turned from him, took a couple of steps, stopped, came +back, and called Berthier. + +"We must give reserves," he said, moving his arms slightly apart. +"Who do you think should be sent there?" he asked of Berthier (whom he +subsequently termed "that gosling I have made an eagle"). + +"Send Claparede's division, sire," replied Berthier, who knew all +the divisions regiments, and battalions by heart. + +Napoleon nodded assent. + +The adjutant galloped to Claparede's division and a few minutes +later the Young Guards stationed behind the knoll moved forward. +Napoleon gazed silently in that direction. + +"No!" he suddenly said to Berthier. "I can't send Claparede. Send +Friant's division." + +Though there was no advantage in sending Friant's division instead +of Claparede's, and even in obvious inconvenience and delay in +stopping Claparede and sending Friant now, the order was carried out +exactly. Napoleon did not notice that in regard to his army he was +playing the part of a doctor who hinders by his medicines- a role he +so justly understood and condemned. + +Friant's division disappeared as the others had done into the +smoke of the battlefield. From all sides adjutants continued to arrive +at a gallop and as if by agreement all said the same thing. They all +asked for reinforcements and all said that the Russians were holding +their positions and maintaining a hellish fire under which the +French army was melting away. + +Napoleon sat on a campstool, wrapped in thought. + +M. de Beausset, the man so fond of travel, having fasted since +morning, came up to the Emperor and ventured respectfully to suggest +lunch to His Majesty. + +"I hope I may now congratulate Your Majesty on a victory?" said he. + +Napoleon silently shook his head in negation. Assuming the +negation to refer only to the victory and not to the lunch, M. de +Beausset ventured with respectful jocularity to remark that there is +no reason for not having lunch when one can get it. + +"Go away..." exclaimed Napoleon suddenly and morosely, and turned +aside. + +A beatific smile of regret, repentance, and ecstasy beamed on M. +de Beausset's face and he glided away to the other generals. + +Napoleon was experiencing a feeling of depression like that of an +ever-lucky gambler who, after recklessly flinging money about and +always winning, suddenly just when he has calculated all the chances +of the game, finds that the more he considers his play the more surely +he loses. + +His troops were the same, his generals the same, the same +preparations had been made, the same dispositions, and the same +proclamation courte et energique, he himself was still the same: he +knew that and knew that he was now even more experienced and +skillful than before. Even the enemy was the same as at Austerlitz and +Friedland- yet the terrible stroke of his arm had supernaturally +become impotent. + +All the old methods that had been unfailingly crowned with +success: the concentration of batteries on one point, an attack by +reserves to break the enemy's line, and a cavalry attack by "the men +of iron," all these methods had already been employed, yet not only +was there no victory, but from all sides came the same news of +generals killed and wounded, of reinforcements needed, of the +impossibility of driving back the Russians, and of disorganization +among his own troops. + +Formerly, after he had given two or three orders and uttered a few +phrases, marshals and adjutants had come galloping up with +congratulations and happy faces, announcing the trophies taken, the +corps of prisoners, bundles of enemy eagles and standards, cannon +and stores, and Murat had only begged leave to loose the cavalry to +gather in the baggage wagons. So it had been at Lodi, Marengo, Arcola, +Jena, Austerlitz, Wagram, and so on. But now something strange was +happening to his troops. + +Despite news of the capture of the fleches, Napoleon saw that this +was not the same, not at all the same, as what had happened in his +former battles. He saw that what he was feeling was felt by all the +men about him experienced in the art of war. All their faces looked +dejected, and they all shunned one another's eyes- only a de +Beausset could fail to grasp the meaning of what was happening. + +But Napoleon with his long experience of war well knew the meaning +of a battle not gained by the attacking side in eight hours, after all +efforts had been expended. He knew that it was a lost battle and +that the least accident might now- with the fight balanced on such a +strained center- destroy him and his army. + +When he ran his mind over the whole of this strange Russian campaign +in which not one battle had been won, and in which not a flag, or +cannon, or army corps had been captured in two months, when he +looked at the concealed depression on the faces around him and heard +reports of the Russians still holding their ground- a terrible feeling +like a nightmare took possession of him, and all the unlucky accidents +that might destroy him occurred to his mind. The Russians might fall +on his left wing, might break through his center, he himself might +be killed by a stray cannon ball. All this was possible. In former +battles he had only considered the possibilities of success, but now +innumerable unlucky chances presented themselves, and he expected them +all. Yes, it was like a dream in which a man fancies that a ruffian is +coming to attack him, and raises his arm to strike that ruffian a +terrible blow which he knows should annihilate him, but then feels +that his arm drops powerless and limp like a rag, and the horror of +unavoidable destruction seizes him in his helplessness. + +The news that the Russians were attacking the left flank of the +French army aroused that horror in Napoleon. He sat silently on a +campstool below the knoll, with head bowed and elbows on his knees. +Berthier approached and suggested that they should ride along the line +to ascertain the position of affairs. + +"What? What do you say?" asked Napoleon. "Yes, tell them to bring me +my horse." + +He mounted and rode toward Semenovsk. + +Amid the powder smoke, slowly dispersing over the whole space +through which Napoleon rode, horses and men were lying in pools of +blood, singly or in heaps. Neither Napoleon nor any of his generals +had ever before seen such horrors or so many slain in such a small +area. The roar of guns, that had not ceased for ten hours, wearied the +ear and gave a peculiar significance to the spectacle, as music does +to tableaux vivants. Napoleon rode up the high ground at Semenovsk, +and through the smoke saw ranks of men in uniforms of a color +unfamiliar to him. They were Russians. + +The Russians stood in serried ranks behind Semenovsk village and its +knoll, and their guns boomed incessantly along their line and sent +forth clouds of smoke. It was no longer a battle: it was a +continuous slaughter which could be of no avail either to the French +or the Russians. Napoleon stopped his horse and again fell into the +reverie from which Berthier had aroused him. He could not stop what +was going on before him and around him and was supposed to be directed +by him and to depend on him, and from its lack of success this affair, +for the first time, seemed to him unnecessary and horrible. + +One of the generals rode up to Napoleon and ventured to offer to +lead the Old Guard into action. Ney and Berthier, standing near +Napoleon, exchanged looks and smiled contemptuously at this +general's senseless offer. + +Napoleon bowed his head and remained silent a long time. + +"At eight hundred leagues from France, I will not have my Guard +destroyed!" he said, and turning his horse rode back to Shevardino. + +CHAPTER XXXV + +On the rug-covered bench where Pierre had seen him in the morning +sat Kutuzov, his gray head hanging, his heavy body relaxed. He gave no +orders, but only assented to or dissented from what others suggested. + +"Yes, yes, do that," he replied to various proposals. "Yes, yes: go, +dear boy, and have a look," he would say to one or another of those +about him; or, "No, don't, we'd better wait!" He listened to the +reports that were brought him and gave directions when his +subordinates demanded that of him; but when listening to the reports +it seemed as if he were not interested in the import of the words +spoken, but rather in something else- in the expression of face and +tone of voice of those who were reporting. By long years of military +experience he knew, and with the wisdom of age understood, that it +is impossible for one man to direct hundreds of thousands of others +struggling with death, and he knew that the result of a battle is +decided not by the orders of a commander in chief, nor the place where +the troops are stationed, nor by the number of cannon or of +slaughtered men, but by that intangible force called the spirit of the +army, and he watched this force and guided it in as far as that was in +his power. + +Kutuzov's general expression was one of concentrated quiet +attention, and his face wore a strained look as if he found it +difficult to master the fatigue of his old and feeble body. + +At eleven o'clock they brought him news that the fleches captured by +the French had been retaken, but that Prince Bagration was wounded. +Kutuzov groaned and swayed his head. + +"Ride over to Prince Peter Ivanovich and find out about it exactly," +he said to one of his adjutants, and then turned to the Duke of +Wurttemberg who was standing behind him. + +"Will Your Highness please take command of the first army?" + +Soon after the duke's departure- before he could possibly have +reached Semenovsk- his adjutant came back from him and told Kutuzov +that the duke asked for more troops. + +Kutuzov made a grimace and sent an order to Dokhturov 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, Kutuzov 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 Scherbinin came galloping from the left flank with news that +the French had captured the fleches and the village of Semenovsk, +Kutuzov, guessing by the sounds of the battle and by Scherbinin's +looks that the news was bad, rose as if to stretch his legs and, +taking Scherbinin's arm, led him aside. + +"Go, my dear fellow," he said to Ermolov, "and see whether something +can't be done." + +Kutuzov was in Gorki, near the center of the Russian position. The +attack directed by Napoleon against our left flank had been several +times repulsed. In the center the French had not got beyond +Borodino, and on their left flank Uvarov's cavalry had put the +French to flight. + +Toward three o'clock the French attacks ceased. On the faces of +all who came from the field of battle, and of those who stood around +him, Kutuzov noticed an expression of extreme tension. He was +satisfied with the day's success- a success exceeding his +expectations, but the old man's strength was failing him. Several +times his head dropped low as if it were falling and he dozed off. +Dinner was brought him. + +Adjutant General Wolzogen, the man who when riding past Prince +Andrew had said, "the war should be extended widely," and whom +Bagration so detested, rode up while Kutuzov was at dinner. Wolzogen +had come from Barclay de Tolly to report on the progress of affairs on +the left flank. The sagacious Barclay de Tolly, seeing crowds of +wounded men running back and the disordered rear of the army, +weighed all the circumstances, concluded that the battle was lost, and +sent his favorite officer to the commander in chief with that news. + +Kutuzov was chewing a piece of roast chicken with difficulty and +glanced at Wolzogen with eyes that brightened under their puckering +lids. + +Wolzogen, nonchalantly stretching his legs, approached Kutuzov +with a half-contemptuous smile on his lips, scarcely touching the peak +of his cap. + +He treated his Serene Highness with a somewhat affected +nonchalance intended to show that, as a highly trained military man, +he left it to Russians to make an idol of this useless old man, but +that he knew whom he was dealing with. "Der alte Herr" (as in their +own set the Germans called Kutuzov) "is making himself very +comfortable," thought Wolzogen, and looking severely at the dishes +in front of Kutuzov he began to report to "the old gentleman" the +position of affairs on the left flank as Barclay had ordered him to +and as he himself had seen and understood it. + +"All the points of our position are in the enemy's hands and we +cannot dislodge them for lack of troops, the men are running away +and it is impossible to stop them," he reported. + +Kutuzov ceased chewing and fixed an astonished gaze on Wolzogen, +as if not understand what was said to him. Wolzogen, noticing "the old +gentleman's" agitation, said with a smile: + +"I have not considered it right to conceal from your Serene Highness +what I have seen. The troops are in complete disorder..." + +"You have seen? You have seen?..." Kutuzov shouted frowning, and +rising quickly he went up to Wolzogen. + +"How... how dare you!..." he shouted, choking and making a +threatening gesture with his trembling arms: "How dare you, sir, say +that to me? You know nothing about it. Tell General Barclay from me +that his information is incorrect and that the real course of the +battle is better known to me, the commander in chief, than to him." + +Wolzogen was about to make a rejoinder, but Kutuzov interrupted him. + +"The enemy has been repulsed on the left and defeated on the right +flank. If you have seen amiss, sir, do not allow yourself to say +what you don't know! Be so good as to ride to General Barclay and +inform him of my firm intention to attack the enemy tomorrow," said +Kutuzov sternly. + +All were silent, and the only sound audible was the heavy +breathing of the panting old general. + +"They are repulsed everywhere, for which I thank God and our brave +army! The enemy is beaten, and tomorrow we shall drive him from the +sacred soil of Russia," said Kutuzov crossing himself, and he suddenly +sobbed as his eyes filled with tears. + +Wolzogen, shrugging his shoulders and curling his lips, stepped +silently aside, marveling at "the old gentleman's" conceited +stupidity. + +"Ah, here he is, my hero!" said Kutuzov to a portly, handsome, +dark-haired general who was just ascending the knoll. + +This was Raevski, who had spent the whole day at the most +important part of the field of Borodino. + +Raevski reported that the troops were firmly holding their ground +and that the French no longer ventured to attack. + +After hearing him, Kutuzov said in French: + +"Then you do not think, like some others, that we must retreat?" + +"On the contrary, your Highness, in indecisive actions it is +always the most stubborn who remain victors," replied Raevski, "and in +my opinion..." + +"Kaysarov!" Kutuzov called to his adjutant. "Sit down and write +out the order of the day for tomorrow. And you," he continued, +addressing another, "ride along the line and that tomorrow we attack." + +While Kutuzov was talking to Raevski and dictating the order of +the day, Wolzogen returned from Barclay and said that General +Barclay wished to have written confirmation of the order the field +marshal had given. + +Kutuzov, without looking at Wolzogen, gave directions for the +order to be written out which the former commander in chief, to +avoid personal responsibility, very judiciously wished to receive. + +And by means of that mysterious indefinable bond which maintains +throughout an army one and the same temper, known as "the spirit of +the army," and which constitutes the sinew of war, Kutuzov's words, +his order for a battle next day, immediately became known from one end +of the army to the other. + +It was far from being the same words or the same order that +reached the farthest links of that chain. The tales passing from mouth +to mouth at different ends of the army did not even resemble what +Kutuzov had said, but the sense of his words spread everywhere because +what he said was not the outcome of cunning calculations, but of a +feeling that lay in the commander in chief's soul as in that of +every Russian. + +And on learning that tomorrow they were to attack the enemy, and +hearing from the highest quarters a confirmation of what they wanted +to believe, the exhausted, wavering men felt comforted and inspirited. + +CHAPTER XXXVI + +Prince Andrew's regiment was among the reserves which till after one +o'clock were stationed inactive behind Semenovsk, under heavy +artillery fire. Toward two o'clock the regiment, having already lost +more than two hundred men, was moved forward into a trampled +oatfield in the gap between Semenovsk and the Knoll Battery, where +thousands of men perished that day and on which an intense, +concentrated fire from several hundred enemy guns was directed between +one and two o'clock. + +Without moving from that spot or firing a single shot the regiment +here lost another third of its men. From in front and especially +from the right, in the unlifting smoke the guns boomed, and out of the +mysterious domain of smoke that overlay the whole space in front, +quick hissing cannon balls and slow whistling shells flew unceasingly. +At times, as if to allow them a respite, a quarter of an hour passed +during which the cannon balls and shells all flew overhead, but +sometimes several men were torn from the regiment in a minute and +the slain were continually being dragged away and the wounded +carried off. + +With each fresh blow less and less chance of life remained for those +not yet killed. The regiment stood in columns of battalion, three +hundred paces apart, but nevertheless the men were always in one and +the same mood. All alike were taciturn and morose. Talk was rarely +heard in the ranks, and it ceased altogether every time the thud of +a successful shot and the cry of "stretchers!" was heard. Most of +the time, by their officers' order, the men sat on the ground. One, +having taken off his shako, carefully loosened the gathers of its +lining and drew them tight again; another, rubbing some dry clay +between his palms, polished his bayonet; another fingered the strap +and pulled the buckle of his bandolier, while another smoothed and +refolded his leg bands and put his boots on again. Some built little +houses of the tufts in the plowed ground, or plaited baskets from +the straw in the cornfield. All seemed fully absorbed in these +pursuits. When men were killed or wounded, when rows of stretchers +went past, when some troops retreated, and when great masses of the +enemy came into view through the smoke, no one paid any attention to +these things. But when our artillery or cavalry advanced or some of +our infantry were seen to move forward, words of approval were heard +on all sides. But the liveliest attention was attracted by occurrences +quite apart from, and unconnected with, the battle. It was as if the +minds of these morally exhausted men found relief in everyday, +commonplace occurrences. A battery of artillery was passing in front +of the regiment. The horse of an ammunition cart put its leg over a +trace. "Hey, look at the trace horse!... Get her leg out! She'll +fall.... Ah, they don't see it!" came identical shouts from the +ranks all along the regiment. Another time, general attention was +attracted by a small brown dog, coming heaven knows whence, which +trotted in a preoccupied manner in front of the ranks with tail +stiffly erect till suddenly a shell fell close by, when it yelped, +tucked its tail between its legs, and darted aside. Yells and +shrieks of laughter rose from the whole regiment. But such +distractions lasted only a moment, and for eight hours the men had +been inactive, without food, in constant fear of death, and their pale +and gloomy faces grew ever paler and gloomier. + +Prince Andrew, pale and gloomy like everyone in the regiment, +paced up and down from the border of one patch to another, at the edge +of the meadow beside an oatfield, with head bowed and arms behind +his back. There was nothing for him to do and no orders to be given. +Everything went on of itself. The killed were dragged from the +front, the wounded carried away, and the ranks closed up. If any +soldiers ran to the rear they returned immediately and hastily. At +first Prince Andrew, considering it his duty to rouse the courage of +the men and to set them an example, walked about among the ranks, +but he soon became convinced that this was unnecessary and that +there was nothing he could teach them. All the powers of his soul, +as of every soldier there, were unconsciously bent on avoiding the +contemplation of the horrors of their situation. He walked along the +meadow, dragging his feet, rustling the grass, and gazing at the +dust that covered his boots; now he took big strides trying to keep to +the footprints left on the meadow by the mowers, then he counted his +steps, calculating how often he must walk from one strip to another to +walk a mile, then he stripped the flowers from the wormwood that +grew along a boundary rut, rubbed them in his palms, and smelled their +pungent, sweetly bitter scent. Nothing remained of the previous +day's thoughts. He thought of nothing. He listened with weary ears +to the ever-recurring sounds, distinguishing the whistle of flying +projectiles from the booming of the reports, glanced at the tiresomely +familiar faces of the men of the first battalion, and waited. "Here it +comes... this one is coming our way again!" he thought, listening to +an approaching whistle in the hidden region of smoke. "One, another! +Again! It has hit...." He stopped and looked at the ranks. "No, it has +gone over. But this one has hit!" And again he started trying to reach +the boundary strip in sixteen paces. A whizz and a thud! Five paces +from him, a cannon ball tore up the dry earth and disappeared. A chill +ran down his back. Again he glanced at the ranks. Probably many had +been hit- a large crowd had gathered near the second battalion. + +"Adjutant!" he shouted. "Order them not to crowd together." + +The adjutant, having obeyed this instruction, approached Prince +Andrew. From the other side a battalion commander rode up. + +"Look out!" came a frightened cry from a soldier and, like a bird +whirring in rapid flight and alighting on the ground, a shell +dropped with little noise within two steps of Prince Andrew and +close to the battalion commander's horse. The horse first, +regardless of whether it was right or wrong to show fear, snorted, +reared almost throwing the major, and galloped aside. The horse's +terror infected the men. + +"Lie down!" cried the adjutant, throwing himself flat on the ground. + +Prince Andrew hesitated. The smoking shell spun like a top between +him and the prostrate adjutant, near a wormwood plant between the +field and the meadow. + +"Can this be death?" thought Prince Andrew, looking with a quite +new, envious glance at the grass, the wormwood, and the streamlet of +smoke that curled up from the rotating black ball. "I cannot, I do not +wish to die. I love life- I love this grass, this earth, this air...." +He thought this, and at the same time remembered that people were +looking at him. + +"It's shameful, sir!" he said to the adjutant. "What..." + +He did not finish speaking. At one and the same moment came the +sound of an explosion, a whistle of splinters as from a breaking +window frame, a suffocating smell of powder, and Prince Andrew started +to one side, raising his arm, and fell on his chest. Several +officers ran up to him. From the right side of his abdomen, blood +was welling out making a large stain on the grass. + +The militiamen with stretchers who were called up stood behind the +officers. Prince Andrew lay on his chest with his face in the grass, +breathing heavily and noisily. + +"What are you waiting for? Come along!" + +The peasants went up and took him by his shoulders and legs, but +he moaned piteously and, exchanging looks, they set him down again. + +"Pick him up, lift him, it's all the same!" cried someone. + +They again took him by the shoulders and laid him on the stretcher. + +"Ah, God! My God! What is it? The stomach? That means death! My +God!"- voices among the officers were heard saying. + +"It flew a hair's breadth past my ear," said the adjutant. + +The peasants, adjusting the stretcher to their shoulders, started +hurriedly along the path they had trodden down, to the dressing +station. + +"Keep in step! Ah... those peasants!" shouted an officer, seizing by +their shoulders and checking the peasants, who were walking unevenly +and jolting the stretcher. + +"Get into step, Fedor... I say, Fedor!" said the foremost peasant. + +"Now that's right!" said the one behind joyfully, when he had got +into step. + +"Your excellency! Eh, Prince!" said the trembling voice of Timokhin, +who had run up and was looking down on the stretcher. + +Prince Andrew opened his eyes and looked up at the speaker from +the stretcher into which his head had sunk deep and again his +eyelids drooped. + +The militiamen carried Prince Andrew to dressing station by the +wood, where wagons were stationed. The dressing station consisted of +three tents with flaps turned back, pitched at the edge of a birch +wood. In the wood, wagons and horses were standing. The horses were +eating oats from their movable troughs and sparrows flew down and +pecked the grains that fell. Some crows, scenting blood, flew among +the birch trees cawing impatiently. Around the tents, over more than +five acres, bloodstained men in various garbs stood, sat, or lay. +Around the wounded stood crowds of soldier stretcher-bearers with +dismal and attentive faces, whom the officers keeping order tried in +vain to drive from the spot. Disregarding the officers' orders, the +soldiers stood leaning against their stretchers and gazing intently, +as if trying to comprehend the difficult problem of what was taking +place before them. From the tents came now loud angry cries and now +plaintive groans. Occasionally dressers ran out to fetch water, or +to point out those who were to be brought in next. The wounded men +awaiting their turn outside the tents groaned, sighed, wept, screamed, +swore, or asked for vodka. Some were delirious. Prince Andrew's +bearers, stepping over the wounded who had not yet been bandaged, took +him, as a regimental commander, close up to one of the tents and there +stopped, awaiting instructions. Prince Andrew opened his eyes and +for a long time could not make out what was going on around him. He +remembered the meadow, the wormwood, the field, the whirling black +ball, and his sudden rush of passionate love of life. Two steps from +him, leaning against a branch and talking loudly and attracting +general attention, stood a tall, handsome, black-haired +noncommissioned officer with a bandaged head. He had been wounded in +the head and leg by bullets. Around him, eagerly listening to his +talk, a crowd of wounded and stretcher-bearers was gathered. + +"We kicked him out from there so that he chucked everything, we +grabbed the King himself!" cried he, looking around him with eyes that +glittered with fever. "If only reserves had come up just then, lads, +there wouldn't have been nothing left of him! I tell you surely..." + +Like all the others near the speaker, Prince Andrew looked at him +with shining eyes and experienced a sense of comfort. "But isn't it +all the same now?" thought he. "And what will be there, and what has +there been here? Why was I so reluctant to part with life? There was +something in this life I did not and do not understand." + +CHAPTER XXXVII + +One of the doctors came out of the tent in a bloodstained apron, +holding a cigar between the thumb and little finger of one of his +small bloodstained hands, so as not to smear it. He raised his head +and looked about him, but above the level of the wounded men. He +evidently wanted a little respite. After turning his head from right +to left for some time, he sighed and looked down. + +"All right, immediately," he replied to a dresser who pointed Prince +Andrew out to him, and he told them to carry him into the tent. + +Murmurs arose among the wounded who were waiting. + +"It seems that even in the next world only the gentry are to have +a chance!" remarked one. + +Prince Andrew was carried in and laid on a table that had only +just been cleared and which a dresser was washing down. Prince +Andrew could not make out distinctly what was in that tent. The +pitiful groans from all sides and the torturing pain in his thigh, +stomach, and back distracted him. All he saw about him merged into a +general impression of naked, bleeding human bodies that seemed to fill +the whole of the low tent, as a few weeks previously, on that hot +August day, such bodies had filled the dirty pond beside the +Smolensk road. Yes, it was the same flesh, the same chair a canon, the +sight of which had even then filled him with horror, as by a +presentiment. + +There were three operating tables in the tent. Two were occupied, +and on the third they placed Prince Andrew. For a little while he +was left alone and involuntarily witnessed what was taking place on +the other two tables. On the nearest one sat a Tartar, probably a +Cossack, judging by the uniform thrown down beside him. Four +soldiers were holding him, and a spectacled doctor was cutting into +his muscular brown back. + +"Ooh, ooh, ooh!" grunted the Tartar, and suddenly lifting up his +swarthy snub-nosed face with its high cheekbones, and baring his white +teeth, he began to wriggle and twitch his body and utter piercing, +ringing, and prolonged yells. On the other table, round which many +people were crowding, a tall well-fed man lay on his back with his +head thrown back. His curly hair, its color, and the shape of his head +seemed strangely familiar to Prince Andrew. Several dressers were +pressing on his chest to hold him down. One large, white, plump leg +twitched rapidly all the time with a feverish tremor. The man was +sobbing and choking convulsively. Two doctors- one of whom was pale +and trembling- were silently doing something to this man's other, gory +leg. When he had finished with the Tartar, whom they covered with an +overcoat, the spectacled doctor came up to Prince Andrew, wiping his +hands. + +He glanced at Prince Andrew's face and quickly turned away. + +"Undress him! What are you waiting for?" he cried angrily to the +dressers. + +His very first, remotest recollections of childhood came back to +Prince Andrew's mind when the dresser with sleeves rolled up began +hastily to undo the buttons of his clothes and undressed him. The +doctor bent down over the wound, felt it, and sighed deeply. Then he +made a sign to someone, and the torturing pain in his abdomen caused +Prince Andrew to lose consciousness. When he came to himself the +splintered portions of his thighbone had been extracted, the torn +flesh cut away, and the wound bandaged. Water was being sprinkled on +his face. As soon as Prince Andrew opened his eyes, the doctor bent +over, kissed him silently on the lips, and hurried away. + +After the sufferings he had been enduring, Prince Andrew enjoyed a +blissful feeling such as he had not experienced for a long time. All +the best and happiest moments of his life- especially his earliest +childhood, when he used to be undressed and put to bed, and when +leaning over him his nurse sang him to sleep and he, burying his +head in the pillow, felt happy in the mere consciousness of life- +returned to his memory, not merely as something past but as +something present. + +The doctors were busily engaged with the wounded man the shape of +whose head seemed familiar to Prince Andrew: they were lifting him +up and trying to quiet him. + +"Show it to me.... Oh, ooh... Oh! Oh, ooh!" his frightened moans +could be heard, subdued by suffering and broken by sobs. + +Hearing those moans Prince Andrew wanted Andrew wanted to weep. +Whether because he was dying without glory, or because he was sorry to +part with life, or because of those memories of a childhood that could +not return, or because he was suffering and others were suffering +and that man near him was groaning so piteously- he felt like +weeping childlike, kindly, and almost happy tears. + +The wounded man was shown his amputated leg stained with clotted +blood and with the boot still on. + +"Oh! Oh, ooh!" he sobbed, like a woman. + +The doctor who had been standing beside him, preventing Prince +Andrew from seeing his face, moved away. + +"My God! What is this? Why is he here?" said Prince Andrew to +himself. + +In the miserable, sobbing, enfeebled man whose leg had just been +amputated, he recognized Anatole Kuragin. Men were supporting him in +their arms and offering him a glass of water, but his trembling, +swollen lips could not grasp its rim. Anatole was sobbing painfully. +"Yes, it is he! Yes, that man is somehow closely and painfully +connected with me," thought Prince Andrew, not yet clearly grasping +what he saw before him. "What is the connection of that man with my +childhood and life?" he asked himself without finding an answer. And +suddenly a new unexpected memory from that realm of pure and loving +childhood presented itself to him. He remembered Natasha as he had +seen her for the first time at the ball in 1810, with her slender neck +and arms and with a frightened happy face ready for rapture, and +love and tenderness for her, stronger and more vivid than ever, +awoke in his soul. He now remembered the connection that existed +between himself and this man who was dimly gazing at him through tears +that filled his swollen eyes. He remembered everything, and ecstatic +pity and love for that man overflowed his happy heart. + +Prince Andrew could no longer restrain himself and wept tender +loving tears for his fellow men, for himself, and for his own and +their errors. + +"Compassion, love of our brothers, for those who love us and for +those who hate us, love of our enemies; yes, that love which God +preached on earth and which Princess Mary taught me and I did not +understand- that is what made me sorry to part with life, that is what +remained for me had I lived. But now it is too late. I know it!" + +CHAPTER XXXVIII + +The terrible spectacle of the battlefield covered with dead and +wounded, together with the heaviness of his head and the news that +some twenty generals he knew personally had been killed or wounded, +and the consciousness of the impotence of his once mighty arm, +produced an unexpected impression on Napoleon who usually liked to +look at the killed and wounded, thereby, he considered, testing his +strength of mind. This day the horrible appearance of the +battlefield overcame that strength of mind which he thought +constituted his merit and his greatness. He rode hurriedly from the +battlefield and returned to the Shevardino knoll, where he sat on +his campstool, his sallow face swollen and heavy, his eyes dim, his +nose red, and his voice hoarse, involuntarily listening, with downcast +eyes, to the sounds of firing. With painful dejection he awaited the +end of this action, in which he regarded himself as a participant +and which he was unable to arrest. A personal, human feeling for a +brief moment got the better of the artificial phantasm of life he +had served so long. He felt in his own person the sufferings and death +he had witnessed on the battlefield. The heaviness of his head and +chest reminded him of the possibility of suffering and death for +himself. At that moment he did not desire Moscow, or victory, or glory +(what need had he for any more glory?). The one thing he wished for +was rest, tranquillity, and freedom. But when he had been on the +Semenovsk heights the artillery commander had proposed to him to bring +several batteries of artillery up to those heights to strengthen the +fire on the Russian troops crowded in front of Knyazkovo. Napoleon had +assented and had given orders that news should be brought to him of +the effect those batteries produced. + +An adjutant came now to inform him that the fire of two hundred guns +had been concentrated on the Russians, as he had ordered, but that +they still held their ground. + +"Our fire is mowing them down by rows, but still they hold on," said +the adjutant. + +"They want more!..." said Napoleon in a hoarse voice. + +"Sire?" asked the adjutant who had not heard the remark. + +"They want more!" croaked Napoleon frowning. "Let them have it!" + +Even before he gave that order the thing he did not desire, and +for which he gave the order only because he thought it was expected of +him, was being done. And he fell back into that artificial realm of +imaginary greatness, and again- as a horse walking a treadmill +thinks it is doing something for itself- he submissively fulfilled the +cruel, sad, gloomy, and inhuman role predestined for him. + +And not for that day and hour alone were the mind and conscience +darkened of this man on whom the responsibility for what was happening +lay more than on all the others who took part in it. Never to the +end of his life could he understand goodness, beauty, or truth, or the +significance of his actions which were too contrary to goodness and +truth, too remote from everything human, for him ever to be able to +grasp their meaning. He could not disavow his actions, belauded as +they were by half the world, and so he had to repudiate truth, +goodness, and all humanity. + +Not only on that day, as he rode over the battlefield strewn with +men killed and maimed (by his will as he believed), did he reckon as +he looked at them how many Russians there were for each Frenchman and, +deceiving himself, find reason for rejoicing in the calculation that +there were five Russians for every Frenchman. Not on that day alone +did he write in a letter to Paris that "the battle field was +superb," because fifty thousand corpses lay there, but even on the +island of St. Helena in the peaceful solitude where he said he +intended to devote his leisure to an account of the great deeds he had +done, he wrote: + +The Russian war should have been the most popular war of modern +times: it was a war of good sense, for real interests, for the +tranquillity and security of all; it was purely pacific and +conservative. + +It was a war for a great cause, the end of uncertainties and the +beginning of security. A new horizon and new labors were opening +out, full of well-being and prosperity for all. The European system +was already founded; all that remained was to organize it. + +Satisfied on these great points and with tranquility everywhere, I +too should have had my Congress and my Holy Alliance. Those ideas were +stolen from me. In that reunion of great sovereigns we should have +discussed our interests like one family, and have rendered account +to the peoples as clerk to master. + +Europe would in this way soon have been, in fact, but one people, +and anyone who traveled anywhere would have found himself always in +the common fatherland. I should have demanded the freedom of all +navigable rivers for everybody, that the seas should be common to all, +and that the great standing armies should be reduced henceforth to +mere guards for the sovereigns. + +On returning to France, to the bosom of the great, strong, +magnificent, peaceful, and glorious fatherland, I should have +proclaimed her frontiers immutable; all future wars purely +defensive, all aggrandizement antinational. I should have associated +my son in the Empire; my dictatorship would have been finished, and +his constitutional reign would have begun. + +Paris would have been the capital of the world, and the French the +envy of the nations! + +My leisure then, and my old age, would have been devoted, in company +with the Empress and during the royal apprenticeship of my son, to +leisurely visiting, with our own horses and like a true country +couple, every corner of the Empire, receiving complaints, redressing +wrongs, and scattering public buildings and benefactions on all +sides and everywhere. + +Napoleon, predestined by Providence for the gloomy role of +executioner of the peoples, assured himself that the aim of his +actions had been the peoples' welfare and that he could control the +fate of millions and by the employment of power confer benefactions. + +"Of four hundred thousand who crossed the Vistula," he wrote further +of the Russian war, "half were Austrians, Prussians, Saxons, Poles, +Bavarians, Wurttembergers, Mecklenburgers, Spaniards, Italians, and +Neapolitans. The Imperial army, strictly speaking, was one third +composed of Dutch, Belgians, men from the borders of the Rhine, +Piedmontese, Swiss, Genevese, Tuscans, Romans, inhabitants of the +Thirty-second Military Division, of Bremen, of Hamburg, and so on: +it included scarcely a hundred and forty thousand who spoke French. +The Russian expedition actually cost France less than fifty thousand +men; the Russian army in its retreat from Vilna to Moscow lost in +the various battles four times more men than the French army; the +burning of Moscow cost the lives of a hundred thousand Russians who +died of cold and want in the woods; finally, in its march from +Moscow to the Oder the Russian army also suffered from the severity of +the season; so that by the the time it reached Vilna it numbered +only fifty thousand, and at Kalisch less than eighteen thousand." + +He imagined that the war with Russia came about by his will, and the +horrors that occurred did not stagger his soul. He boldly took the +whole responsibility for what happened, and his darkened mind found +justification in the belief that among the hundreds of thousands who +perished there were fewer Frenchmen than Hessians and Bavarians. + +CHAPTER XXXIX + +Several tens of thousands of the slain lay in diverse postures and +various uniforms on the fields and meadows belonging to the Davydov +family and to the crown serfs- those fields and meadows where for +hundreds of years the peasants of Borodino, Gorki, Shevardino, and +Semenovsk had reaped their harvests and pastured their cattle. At +the dressing stations the grass and earth were soaked with blood for a +space of some three acres around. Crowds of men of various arms, +wounded and unwounded, with frightened faces, dragged themselves +back to Mozhaysk from the one army and back to Valuevo from the other. +Other crowds, exhausted and hungry, went forward led by their +officers. Others held their ground and continued to fire. + +Over the whole field, previously so gaily beautiful with the glitter +of bayonets and cloudlets of smoke in the morning sun, there now +spread a mist of damp and smoke and a strange acid smell of +saltpeter and blood. Clouds gathered and drops of rain began to fall +on the dead and wounded, on the frightened, exhausted, and +hesitating men, as if to say: "Enough, men! Enough! Cease... bethink +yourselves! What are you doing?" + +To the men of both sides alike, worn out by want of food and rest, +it began equally to appear doubtful whether they should continue to +slaughter one another; all the faces expressed hesitation, and the +question arose in every soul: "For what, for whom, must I kill and +be killed?... You may go and kill whom you please, but I don't want to +do so anymore!" By evening this thought had ripened in every soul. +At any moment these men might have been seized with horror at what +they were doing and might have thrown up everything and run away +anywhere. + +But though toward the end of the battle the men felt all the +horror of what they were doing, though they would have been glad to +leave off, some incomprehensible, mysterious power continued to +control them, and they still brought up the charges, loaded, aimed, +and applied the match, though only one artilleryman survived out of +every three, and though they stumbled and panted with fatigue, +perspiring and stained with blood and powder. The cannon balls flew +just as swiftly and cruelly from both sides, crushing human bodies, +and that terrible work which was not done by the will of a man but +at the will of Him who governs men and worlds continued. + +Anyone looking at the disorganized rear of the Russian army would +have said that, if only the French made one more slight effort, it +would disappear; and anyone looking at the rear of the French army +would have said that the Russians need only make one more slight +effort and the French would be destroyed. But neither the French nor +the Russians made that effort, and the flame of battle burned slowly +out. + +The Russians did not make that effort because they were not +attacking the French. At the beginning of the battle they stood +blocking the way to Moscow and they still did so at the end of the +battle as at the beginning. But even had the aim of the Russians +been to drive the French from their positions, they could not have +made this last effort, for all the Russian troops had been broken +up, there was no part of the Russian army that had not suffered in the +battle, and though still holding their positions they had lost ONE +HALF of their army. + +The French, with the memory of all their former victories during +fifteen years, with the assurance of Napoleon's invincibility, with +the consciousness that they had captured part of the battlefield and +had lost only a quarter of their men and still had their Guards +intact, twenty thousand strong, might easily have made that effort. +The French had attacked the Russian army in order to drive it from its +position ought to have made that effort, for as long as the Russians +continued to block the road to Moscow as before, the aim of the French +had not been attained and all their efforts and losses were in vain. +But the French did not make that effort. Some historians say that +Napoleon need only have used his Old Guards, who were intact, and +the battle would have been won. To speak of what would have happened +had Napoleon sent his Guards is like talking of what would happen if +autumn became spring. It could not be. Napoleon did not give his +Guards, not because he did not want to, but because it could not be +done. All the generals, officers. and soldiers of the French army knew +it could not be done, because the flagging spirit of the troops +would not permitit. + +It was not Napoleon alone who had experienced that nightmare feeling +of the mighty arm being stricken powerless, but all the generals and +soldiers of his army whether they had taken part in the battle or not, +after all their experience of previous battles- when after one tenth +of such efforts the enemy had fled- experienced a similar feeling of +terror before an enemy who, after losing HALF his men, stood as +threateningly at the end as at the beginning of the battle. The +moral force of the attacking French army was exhausted. Not that +sort of victory which is defined by the capture of pieces of +material fastened to sticks, called standards, and of the ground on +which the troops had stood and were standing, but a moral victory that +convinces the enemy of the moral superiority of his opponent and of +his own impotence was gained by the Russians at Borodino. The French +invaders, like an infuriated animal that has in its onslaught received +a mortal wound, felt that they were perishing, but could not stop, any +more than the Russian army, weaker by one half, could help swerving. +By impetus gained, the French army was still able to roll forward to +Moscow, but there, without further effort on the part of the Russians, +it had to perish, bleeding from the mortal wound it had received at +Borodino. The direct consequence of the battle of Borodino was +Napoleon's senseless flight from Moscow, his retreat along the old +Smolensk road, the destruction of the invading army of five hundred +thousand men, and the downfall of Napoleonic France, on which at +Borodino for the first time the hand of an opponent of stronger spirit +had been laid. + +BOOK ELEVEN: 1812 + +CHAPTER I + +Absolute continuity of motion is not comprehensible to the human +mind. Laws of motion of any kind become comprehensible to man only +when he examines arbitrarily selected elements of that motion; but +at the same time, a large proportion of human error comes from the +arbitrary division of continuous motion into discontinuous elements. +There is a well known, so-called sophism of the ancients consisting in +this, that Achilles could never catch up with a tortoise he was +following, in spite of the fact that he traveled ten times as fast +as the tortoise. By the time Achilles has covered the distance that +separated him from the tortoise, the tortoise has covered one tenth of +that distance ahead of him: when Achilles has covered that tenth, +the tortoise has covered another one hundredth, and so on forever. +This problem seemed to the ancients insoluble. The absurd answer (that +Achilles could never overtake the tortoise) resulted from this: that +motion was arbitrarily divided into discontinuous elements, whereas +the motion both of Achilles and of the tortoise was continuous. + +By adopting smaller and smaller elements of motion we only +approach a solution of the problem, but never reach it. Only when we +have admitted the conception of the infinitely small, and the +resulting geometrical progression with a common ratio of one tenth, +and have found the sum of this progression to infinity, do we reach +a solution of the problem. + +A modern branch of mathematics having achieved the art of dealing +with the infinitely small can now yield solutions in other more +complex problems of motion which used to appear insoluble. + +This modern branch of mathematics, unknown to the ancients, when +dealing with problems of motion admits the conception of the +infinitely small, and so conforms to the chief condition of motion +(absolute continuity) and thereby corrects the inevitable error +which the human mind cannot avoid when it deals with separate elements +of motion instead of examining continuous motion. + +In seeking the laws of historical movement just the same thing +happens. The movement of humanity, arising as it does from innumerable +arbitrary human wills, is continuous. + +To understand the laws of this continuous movement is the aim of +history. But to arrive at these laws, resulting from the sum of all +those human wills, man's mind postulates arbitrary and disconnected +units. The first method of history is to take an arbitrarily +selected series of continuous events and examine it apart from others, +though there is and can be no beginning to any event, for one event +always flows uninterruptedly from another. + +The second method is to consider the actions of some one man- a king +or a commander- as equivalent to the sum of many individual wills; +whereas the sum of individual wills is never expressed by the activity +of a single historic personage. + +Historical science in its endeavor to draw nearer to truth +continually takes smaller and smaller units for examination. But +however small the units it takes, we feel that to take any unit +disconnected from others, or to assume a beginning of any +phenomenon, or to say that the will of many men is expressed by the +actions of any one historic personage, is in itself false. + +It needs no critical exertion to reduce utterly to dust any +deductions drawn from history. It is merely necessary to select some +larger or smaller unit as the subject of observation- as criticism has +every right to do, seeing that whatever unit history observes must +always be arbitrarily selected. + +Only by taking infinitesimally small units for observation (the +differential of history, that is, the individual tendencies of men) +and attaining to the art of integrating them (that is, finding the sum +of these infinitesimals) can we hope to arrive at the laws of history. + +The first fifteen years of the nineteenth century in Europe +present an extraordinary movement of millions of people. Men leave +their customary pursuits, hasten from one side of Europe to the other, +plunder and slaughter one another, triumph and are plunged in despair, +and for some years the whole course of life is altered and presents an +intensive movement which first increases and then slackens. What was +the cause of this movement, by what laws was it governed? asks the +mind of man. + +The historians, replying to this question, lay before us the sayings +and doings of a few dozen men in a building in the city of Paris, +calling these sayings and doings "the Revolution"; then they give a +detailed biography of Napoleon and of certain people favorable or +hostile to him; tell of the influence some of these people had on +others, and say: that is why this movement took place and those are +its laws. + +But the mind of man not only refuses to believe this explanation, +but plainly says that this method of explanation is fallacious, +because in it a weaker phenomenon is taken as the cause of a stronger. +The sum of human wills produced the Revolution and Napoleon, and +only the sum of those wills first tolerated and then destroyed them. + +"But every time there have been conquests there have been +conquerors; every time there has been a revolution in any state +there have been great men," says history. And, indeed, human reason +replies: every time conquerors appear there have been wars, but this +does not prove that the conquerors caused the wars and that it is +possible to find the laws of a war in the personal activity of a +single man. Whenever I look at my watch and its hands point to ten, +I hear the bells of the neighboring church; but because the bells +begin to ring when the hands of the clock reach ten, I have no right +to assume that the movement of the bells is caused by the position +of the hands of the watch. + +Whenever I see the movement of a locomotive I hear the whistle and +see the valves opening and wheels turning; but I have no right to +conclude that the whistling and the turning of wheels are the cause of +the movement of the engine. + +The peasants say that a cold wind blows in late spring because the +oaks are budding, and really every spring cold winds do blow when +the oak is budding. But though I do not know what causes the cold +winds to blow when the oak buds unfold, I cannot agree with the +peasants that the unfolding of the oak buds is the cause of the cold +wind, for the force of the wind is beyond the influence of the buds. I +see only a coincidence of occurrences such as happens with all the +phenomena of life, and I see that however much and however carefully I +observe the hands of the watch, and the valves and wheels of the +engine, and the oak, I shall not discover the cause of the bells +ringing, the engine moving, or of the winds of spring. To that I +must entirely change my point of view and study the laws of the +movement of steam, of the bells, and of the wind. History must do +the same. And attempts in this direction have already been made. + +To study the laws of history we must completely change the subject +of our observation, must leave aside kings, ministers, and generals, +and the common, infinitesimally small elements by which the masses are +moved. No one can say in how far it is possible for man to advance +in this way toward an understanding of the laws of history; but it +is evident that only along that path does the possibility of +discovering the laws of history lie, and that as yet not a millionth +part as much mental effort has been applied in this direction by +historians as has been devoted to describing the actions of various +kings, commanders, and ministers and propounding the historians' own +reflections concerning these actions. + +CHAPTER II + +The forces of a dozen European nations burst into Russia. The +Russian army and people avoided a collision till Smolensk was reached, +and again from Smolensk to Borodino. The French army pushed on to +Moscow, its goal, its impetus ever increasing as it neared its aim, +just as the velocity of a falling body increases as it approaches +the earth. Behind it were seven hundred miles of hunger-stricken, +hostile country; ahead were a few dozen miles separating it from its +goal. Every soldier in Napoleon's army felt this and the invasion +moved on by its own momentum. + +The more the Russian army retreated the more fiercely a spirit of +hatred of the enemy flared up, and while it retreated the army +increased and consolidated. At Borodino a collision took place. +Neither army was broken up, but the Russian army retreated immediately +after the collision as inevitably as a ball recoils after colliding +with another having a greater momentum, and with equal inevitability +the ball of invasion that had advanced with such momentum rolled on +for some distance, though the collision had deprived it of all its +force. + +The Russians retreated eighty miles- to beyond Moscow- and the +French reached Moscow and there came to a standstill. For five weeks +after that there was not a single battle. The French did not move. +As a bleeding, mortally wounded animal licks its wounds, they remained +inert in Moscow for five weeks, and then suddenly, with no fresh +reason, fled back: they made a dash for the Kaluga road, and (after +a victory- for at Malo-Yaroslavets the field of conflict again +remained theirs) without undertaking a single serious battle, they +fled still more rapidly back to Smolensk, beyond Smolensk, beyond +the Berezina, beyond Vilna, and farther still. + +On the evening of the twenty-sixth of August, Kutuzov and the +whole Russian army were convinced that the battle of Borodino was a +victory. Kutuzov reported so to the Emperor. He gave orders to prepare +for a fresh conflict to finish the enemy and did this not to deceive +anyone, but because he knew that the enemy was beaten, as everyone who +had taken part in the battle knew it. + +But all that evening and next day reports came in one after +another of unheard-of losses, of the loss of half the army, and a +fresh battle proved physically impossible. + +It was impossible to give battle before information had been +collected, the wounded gathered in, the supplies of ammunition +replenished, the slain reckoned up, new officers appointed to +replace those who had been killed, and before the men had had food and +sleep. And meanwhile, the very next morning after the battle, the +French army advanced of itself upon the Russians, carried forward by +the force of its own momentum now seemingly increased in inverse +proportion to the square of the distance from its aim. Kutuzov's +wish was to attack next day, and the whole army desired to do so. +But to make an attack the wish to do so is not sufficient, there +must also be a possibility of doing it, and that possibility did not +exist. It was impossible not to retreat a day's march, and then in the +same way it was impossible not to retreat another and a third day's +march, and at last, on the first of September when the army drew +near Moscow- despite the strength of the feeling that had arisen in +all ranks- the force of circumstances compelled it to retire beyond +Moscow. And the troops retired one more, last, day's march, and +abandoned Moscow to the enemy. + +For people accustomed to think that plans of campaign and battles +are made by generals- as any one of us sitting over a map in his study +may imagine how he would have arranged things in this or that +battle- the questions present themselves: Why did Kutuzov during the +retreat not do this or that? Why did he not take up a position +before reaching Fili? Why did he not retire at once by the Kaluga +road, abandoning Moscow? and so on. People accustomed to think in that +way forget, or do not know, the inevitable conditions which always +limit the activities of any commander in chief. The activity of a +commander in chief does not all resemble the activity we imagine to +ourselves when we sit at case in our studies examining some campaign +on the map, with a certain number of troops on this and that side in a +certain known locality, and begin our plans from some given moment. +A commander in chief is never dealing with the beginning of any event- +the position from which we always contemplate it. The commander in +chief is always in the midst of a series of shifting events and so +he never can at any moment consider the whole import of an event +that is occurring. Moment by moment the event is imperceptibly shaping +itself, and at every moment of this continuous, uninterrupted +shaping of events the commander in chief is in the midst of a most +complex play of intrigues, worries, contingencies, authorities, +projects, counsels, threats, and deceptions and is continually obliged +to reply to innumerable questions addressed to him, which constantly +conflict with one another. + +Learned military authorities quite seriously tell us that Kutuzov +should have moved his army to the Kaluga road long before reaching +Fili, and that somebody actually submitted such a proposal to him. But +a commander in chief, especially at a difficult moment, has always +before him not one proposal but dozens simultaneously. And all these +proposals, based on strategics and tactics, contradict each other. + +A commander in chief's business, it would seem, is simply to +choose one of these projects. But even that he cannot do. Events and +time do not wait. For instance, on the twenty-eighth it is suggested +to him to cross to the Kaluga road, but just then an adjutant +gallops up from Miloradovich asking whether he is to engage the French +or retire. An order must be given him at once, that instant. And the +order to retreat carries us past the turn to the Kaluga road. And +after the adjutant comes the commissary general asking where the +stores are to be taken, and the chief of the hospitals asks where +the wounded are to go, and a courier from Petersburg brings a letter +from the sovereign which does not admit of the possibility of +abandoning Moscow, and the commander in chief's rival, the man who +is undermining him (and there are always not merely one but several +such), presents a new project diametrically opposed to that of turning +to the Kaluga road, and the commander in chief himself needs sleep and +refreshment to maintain his energy and a respectable general who has +been overlooked in the distribution of rewards comes to complain, +and the inhabitants of the district pray to be defended, and an +officer sent to inspect the locality comes in and gives a report quite +contrary to what was said by the officer previously sent; and a spy, a +prisoner, and a general who has been on reconnaissance, all describe +the position of the enemy's army differently. People accustomed to +misunderstand or to forget these inevitable conditions of a +commander in chief's actions describe to us, for instance, the +position of the army at Fili and assume that the commander in chief +could, on the first of September, quite freely decide whether to +abandon Moscow or defend it; whereas, with the Russian army less +than four miles from Moscow, no such question existed. When had that +question been settled? At Drissa and at Smolensk and most palpably +of all on the twenty-fourth of August at Shevardino and on the +twenty-sixth at Borodino, and each day and hour and minute of the +retreat from Borodino to Fili. + +CHAPTER III + +When Ermolov, having been sent by Kutuzov to inspect the position, +told the field marshal that it was impossible to fight there before +Moscow and that they must retreat, Kutuzov looked at him in silence. + +"Give me your hand," said he and, turning it over so as to feel +the pulse, added: "You are not well, my dear fellow. Think what you +are saying!" + +Kutuzov could not yet admit the possibility of retreating beyond +Moscow without a battle. + +On the Poklonny Hill, four miles from the Dorogomilov gate of +Moscow, Kutuzov got out of his carriage and sat down on a bench by the +roadside. A great crowd of generals gathered round him, and Count +Rostopchin, who had come out from Moscow, joined them. This +brilliant company separated into several groups who all discussed +the advantages and disadvantages of the position, the state of the +army, the plans suggested, the situation of Moscow, and military +questions generally. Though they had not been summoned for the +purpose, and though it was not so called, they all felt that this +was really a council of war. The conversations all dealt with public +questions. If anyone gave or asked for personal news, it was done in a +whisper and they immediately reverted to general matters. No jokes, or +laughter, or smiles even, were seen among all these men. They +evidently all made an effort to hold themselves at the height the +situation demanded. And all these groups, while talking among +themselves, tried to keep near the commander in chief (whose bench +formed the center of the gathering) and to speak so that he might +overhear them. The commander in chief listened to what was being +said and sometimes asked them to repeat their remarks, but did not +himself take part in the conversations or express any opinion. After +hearing what was being said by one or other of these groups he +generally turned away with an air of disappointment, as though they +were not speaking of anything he wished to hear. Some discussed the +position that had been chosen, criticizing not the position itself +so much as the mental capacity of those who had chosen it. Others +argued that a mistake had been made earlier and that a battle should +have been fought two days before. Others again spoke of the battle +of Salamanca, which was described by Crosart, a newly arrived +Frenchman in a Spanish uniform. (This Frenchman and one of the +German princes serving with the Russian army were discussing the siege +of Saragossa and considering the possibility of defending Moscow in +a similar manner.) Count Rostopchin was telling a fourth group that he +was prepared to die with the city train bands under the walls of the +capital, but that he still could not help regretting having been +left in ignorance of what was happening, and that had he known it +sooner things would have been different.... A fifth group, +displaying the profundity of their strategic perceptions, discussed +the direction the troops would now have to take. A sixth group was +talking absolute nonsense. Kutuzov's expression grew more and more +preoccupied and gloomy. From all this talk he saw only one thing: that +to defend Moscow was a physical impossibility in the full meaning of +those words, that is to say, so utterly impossible that if any +senseless commander were to give orders to fight, confusion would +result but the battle would still not take place. It would not take +place because the commanders not merely all recognized the position to +be impossible, but in their conversations were only discussing what +would happen after its inevitable abandonment. How could the +commanders lead their troops to a field of battle they considered it +impossible to hold? The lower-grade officers and even the soldiers +(who too reason) also considered the position impossible and therefore +could not go to fight, fully convinced as they were of defeat. If +Bennigsen insisted on the position being defended and others still +discussed it, the question was no longer important in itself but +only as a pretext for disputes and intrigue. This Kutuzov knew well. + +Bennigsen, who had chosen the position, warmly displayed his Russian +patriotism (Kutuzov could not listen to this without wincing) by +insisting that Moscow must be defended. His aim was as clear as +daylight to Kutuzov: if the defense failed, to throw the blame on +Kutuzov who had brought the army as far as the Sparrow Hills without +giving battle; if it succeeded, to claim the success as his own; or if +battle were not given, to clear himself of the crime of abandoning +Moscow. But this intrigue did not now occupy the old man's mind. One +terrible question absorbed him and to that question he heard no +reply from anyone. The question for him now was: "Have I really +allowed Napoleon to reach Moscow, and when did I do so? When was it +decided? Can it have been yesterday when I ordered Platov to +retreat, or was it the evening before, when I had a nap and told +Bennigsen to issue orders? Or was it earlier still?... When, when +was this terrible affair decided? Moscow must be abandoned. The army +must retreat and the order to do so must be given." To give that +terrible order seemed to him equivalent to resigning the command of +the army. And not only did he love power to which he was accustomed +(the honours awarded to Prince Prozorovski, under whom he had served +in Turkey, galled him), but he was convinced that he was destined to +save Russia and that that was why, against the Emperor's wish and by +the will of the people, he had been chosen commander in chief. He +was convinced that he alone could maintain command of the army in +these difficult circumstances, and that in all the world he alone +could encounter the invincible Napoleon without fear, and he was +horrified at the thought of the order he had to issue. But something +had to be decided, and these conversations around him which were +assuming too free a character must be stopped. + +He called the most important generals to him. + +"My head, be it good or bad, must depend on itself," said he, rising +from the bench, and he rode to Fili where his carriages were waiting. + +CHAPTER IV + +The Council of War began to assemble at two in the afternoon in +the better and roomier part of Andrew Savostyanov's hut. The men, +women, and children of the large peasant family crowded into the +back room across the passage. Only Malasha, Andrew's six-year-old +granddaughter whom his Serene Highness had petted and to whom he had +given a lump of sugar while drinking his tea, remained on the top of +the brick oven in the larger room. Malasha looked down from the oven +with shy delight at the faces, uniforms, and decorations of the +generals, who one after another came into the room and sat down on the +broad benches in the corner under the icons. "Granddad" himself, as +Malasha in her own mind called Kutuzov, sat apart in a dark corner +behind the oven. He sat, sunk deep in a folding armchair, and +continually cleared his throat and pulled at the collar of his coat +which, though it was unbuttoned, still seemed to pinch his neck. Those +who entered went up one by one to the field marshal; he pressed the +hands of some and nodded to others. His adjutant Kaysarov was about to +draw back the curtain of the window facing Kutuzov, but the latter +moved his hand angrily and Kaysarov understood that his Serene +Highness did not wish his face to be seen. + +Round the peasant's deal table, on which lay maps, plans, pencils, +and papers, so many people gathered that the orderlies brought in +another bench and put it beside the table. Ermolov, Kaysarov, and +Toll, who had just arrived, sat down on this bench. In the foremost +place, immediately under the icons, sat Barclay de Tolly, his high +forehead merging into his bald crown. He had a St. George's Cross +round his neck and looked pale and ill. He had been feverish for two +days and was now shivering and in pain. Beside him sat Uvarov, who +with rapid gesticulations was giving him some information, speaking in +low tones as they all did. Chubby little Dokhturov was listening +attentively with eyebrows raised and arms folded on his stomach. On +the other side sat Count Ostermann-Tolstoy, seemingly absorbed in +his own thoughts. His broad head with its bold features and glittering +eyes was resting on his hand. Raevski, twitching forward the black +hair on his temples as was his habit, glanced now at Kutuzov and now +at the door with a look of impatience. Konovnitsyn's firm, handsome, +and kindly face was lit up by a tender, sly smile. His glance met +Malasha's, and the expression of his eyes caused the little girl to +smile. + +They were all waiting for Bennigsen, who on the pretext of +inspecting the position was finishing his savory dinner. They waited +for him from four till six o'clock and did not begin their +deliberations all that time talked in low tones of other matters. + +Only when Bennigsen had entered the hut did Kutuzov leave his corner +and draw toward the table, but not near enough for the candles that +had been placed there to light up his face. + +Bennigsen opened the council with the question: "Are we to abandon +Russia's ancient and sacred capital without a struggle, or are we to +defend it?" A prolonged and general silence followed. There was a +frown on every face and only Kutuzov's angry grunts and occasional +cough broke the silence. All eyes were gazing at him. Malasha too +looked at "Granddad." She was nearest to him and saw how his face +puckered; he seemed about to cry, but this did not last long. + +"Russia's ancient and sacred capital!" he suddenly said, repeating +Bennigsen's words in an angry voice and thereby drawing attention to +the false note in them. "Allow me to tell you, your excellency, that +that question has no meaning for a Russian." (He lurched his heavy +body forward.) "Such a question cannot be put; it is senseless! The +question I have asked these gentlemen to meet to discuss is a military +one. The question is that of saving Russia. Is it better to give up +Moscow without a battle, or by accepting battle to risk losing the +army as well as Moscow? That is the question on which I want your +opinion," and he sank back in his chair. + +The discussion began. Bennigsen did not yet consider his game +lost. Admitting the view of Barclay and others that a defensive battle +at Fili was impossible, but imbued with Russian patriotism and the +love of Moscow, he proposed to move troops from the right to the +left flank during the night and attack the French right flank the +following day. Opinions were divided, and arguments were advanced +for and against that project. Ermolov, Dokhturov, and Raevski agreed +with Bennigsen. Whether feeling it necessary to make a sacrifice +before abandoning the capital or guided by other, personal +considerations, these generals seemed not to understand that this +council could not alter the inevitable course of events and that +Moscow was in effect already abandoned. The other generals, however, +understood it and, leaving aside the question of Moscow, of the +direction the army should take in its retreat. Malasha, who kept her +eyes fixed on what was going on before her, understood the meaning +of the council differently. It seemed to her that it was only a +personal struggle between "Granddad" and "Long-coat" as she termed +Bennigsen. She saw that they grew spiteful when they spoke to one +another, and in her heart she sided with "Granddad." In the midst of +the conversation she noticed "Granddad" give Bennigsen a quick, subtle +glance, and then to her joys he saw that "Granddad" said something +to "Long-coat" which settled him. Bennigsen suddenly reddened and +paced angrily up and down the room. What so affected him was Kutuzov's +calm and quiet comment on the advantage or disadvantage of Bennigsen's +proposal to move troops by night from the right to the left flank to +attack the French right wing. + +"Gentlemen," said Kutuzov, "I cannot approve of the count's plan. +Moving troops in close proximity to an enemy is always dangerous, +and military history supports that view. For instance..." Kutuzov +seemed to reflect, searching for an example, then with a clear, +naive look at Bennigsen he added: "Oh yes; take the battle of +Friedland, which I think the count well remembers, and which was... +not fully successful, only because our troops were rearranged too near +the enemy..." + +There followed a momentary pause, which seemed very long to them +all. + +The discussion recommenced, but pauses frequently occurred and +they all felt that there was no more to be said. + +During one of these pauses Kutuzov heaved a deep sigh as if +preparing to speak. They all looked at him. + +"Well, gentlemen, I see that it is I who will have to pay for the +broken crockery," said he, and rising slowly he moved to the table. +"Gentlemen, I have heard your views. Some of you will not agree with +me. But I," he paused, "by the authority entrusted to me by my +Sovereign and country, order a retreat." + +After that the generals began to disperse with the solemnity and +circumspect silence of people who are leaving, after a funeral. + +Some of the generals, in low tones and in a strain very different +from the way they had spoken during the council, communicated +something to their commander in chief. + +Malasha, who had long been expected for supper, climbed carefully +backwards down from the oven, her bare little feet catching at its +projections, and slipping between the legs of the generals she +darted out of the room. + +When he had dismissed the generals Kutuzov sat a long time with +his elbows on the table, thinking always of the same terrible +question: "When, when did the abandonment of Moscow become inevitable? +When was that done which settled the matter? And who was to blame +for it?" + +"I did not expect this," said he to his adjutant Schneider when +the latter came in late that night. "I did not expect this! I did +not think this would happen." + +"You should take some rest, your Serene Highness," replied +Schneider. + +"But no! They shall eat horseflesh yet, like the Turks!" exclaimed +Kutuzov without replying, striking the table with his podgy fist. +"They shall too, if only..." + +CHAPTER V + +At that very time, in circumstances even more important than +retreating without a battle, namely the evacuation and burning of +Moscow, Rostopchin, who is usually represented as being the instigator +of that event, acted in an altogether different manner from Kutuzov. + +After the battle of Borodino the abandonment and burning of Moscow +was as inevitable as the retreat of the army beyond Moscow without +fighting. + +Every Russian might have predicted it, not by reasoning but by the +feeling implanted in each of us and in our fathers. + +The same thing that took place in Moscow had happened in all the +towns and villages on Russian soil beginning with Smolensk, without +the participation of Count Rostopchin and his broadsheets. The +people awaited the enemy unconcernedly, did not riot or become excited +or tear anyone to pieces, but faced its fate, feeling within it the +strength to find what it should do at that most difficult moment. +And as soon as the enemy drew near the wealthy classes went away +abandoning their property, while the poorer remained and burned and +destroyed what was left. + +The consciousness that this would be so and would always be so was +and is present in the heart of every Russian. And a consciousness of +this, and a foreboding that Moscow would be taken, was present in +Russian Moscow society in 1812. Those who had quitted Moscow already +in July and at the beginning of August showed that they expected this. +Those who went away, taking what they could and abandoning their +houses and half their belongings, did so from the latent patriotism +which expresses itself not by phrases or by giving one's children to +save the fatherland and similar unnatural exploits, but unobtrusively, +simply, organically, and therefore in the way that always produces the +most powerful results. + +"It is disgraceful to run away from danger; only cowards are running +away from Moscow," they were told. In his broadsheets Rostopchin +impressed on them that to leave Moscow was shameful. They were ashamed +to be called cowards, ashamed to leave, but still they left, knowing +it had to be done. Why did they go? It is impossible to suppose that +Rostopchin had scared them by his accounts of horrors Napoleon had +committed in conquered countries. The first people to go away were the +rich educated people who knew quite well that Vienna and Berlin had +remained intact and that during Napoleon's occupation the +inhabitants had spent their time pleasantly in the company of the +charming Frenchmen whom the Russians, and especially the Russian +ladies, then liked so much. + +They went away because for Russians there could be no question as to +whether things would go well or ill under French rule in Moscow. It +was out of the question to be under French rule, it would be the worst +thing that could happen. They went away even before the battle of +Borodino and still more rapidly after it, despite Rostopchin's calls +to defend Moscow or the announcement of his intention to take the +wonder-working icon of the Iberian Mother of God and go to fight, or +of the balloons that were to destroy the French, and despite all the +nonsense Rostopchin wrote in his broadsheets. They knew that it was +for the army to fight, and that if it could not succeed it would not +do to take young ladies and house serfs to the Three Hills quarter +of Moscow to fight Napoleon, and that they must go away, sorry as they +were to abandon their property to destruction. They went away +without thinking of the tremendous significance of that immense and +wealthy city being given over to destruction, for a great city with +wooden buildings was certain when abandoned by its inhabitants to be +burned. They went away each on his own account, and yet it was only in +consequence of their going away that the momentous event was +accomplished that will always remain the greatest glory of the Russian +people. The lady who, afraid of being stopped by Count Rostopchin's +orders, had already in June moved with her Negroes and her women +jesters from Moscow to her Saratov estate, with a vague +consciousness that she was not Bonaparte's servant, was really, +simply, and truly carrying out the great work which saved Russia. +But Count Rostopchin, who now taunted those who left Moscow and now +had the government offices removed; now distributed quite useless +weapons to the drunken rabble; now had processions displaying the +icons, and now forbade Father Augustin to remove icons or the relics +of saints; now seized all the private carts in Moscow and on one +hundred and thirty-six of them removed the balloon that was being +constructed by Leppich; now hinted that he would burn Moscow and +related how he had set fire to his own house; now wrote a proclamation +to the French solemnly upbraiding them for having destroyed his +Orphanage; now claimed the glory of having hinted that he would burn +Moscow and now repudiated the deed; now ordered the people to catch +all spies and bring them to him, and now reproached them for doing so; +now expelled all the French residents from Moscow, and now allowed +Madame Aubert-Chalme (the center of the whole French colony in Moscow) +to remain, but ordered the venerable old postmaster Klyucharev to be +arrested and exiled for no particular offense; now assembled the +people at the Three Hills to fight the French and now, to get rid of +them, handed over to them a man to be killed and himself drove away by +a back gate; now declared that he would not survive the fall of +Moscow, and now wrote French verses in albums concerning his share +in the affair- this man did not understand the meaning of what was +happening but merely wanted to do something himself that would +astonish people, to perform some patriotically heroic feat; and like a +child he made sport of the momentous, and unavoidable event- the +abandonment and burning of Moscow- and tried with his puny hand now to +speed and now to stay the enormous, popular tide that bore him along +with it. + +CHAPTER VI + +Helene, having returned with the court from Vilna to Petersburg, +found herself in a difficult position. + +In Petersburg she had enjoyed the special protection of a grandee +who occupied one of the highest posts in the Empire. In Vilna she +had formed an intimacy with a young foreign prince. When she +returned to Petersburg both the magnate and the prince were there, and +both claimed their rights. Helene was faced by a new problem- how to +preserve her intimacy with both without offending either. + +What would have seemed difficult or even impossible to another woman +did not cause the least embarrassment to Countess Bezukhova, who +evidently deserved her reputation of being a very clever woman. Had +she attempted concealment, or tried to extricate herself from her +awkward position by cunning, she would have spoiled her case by +acknowledging herself guilty. But Helene, like a really great man +who can do whatever he pleases, at once assumed her own position to be +correct, as she sincerely believed it to be, and that everyone else +was to blame. + +The first time the young foreigner allowed himself to reproach +her, she lifted her beautiful head and, half turning to him, said +firmly: "That's just like a man- selfish and cruel! I expected nothing +else. A woman sacrifices herself for you, she suffers, and this is her +reward! What right have you, monseigneur, to demand an account of my +attachments and friendships? He is a man who has been more than a +father to me!" The prince was about to say something, but Helene +interrupted him. + +"Well, yes," said she, "it may be that he has other sentiments for +me than those of a father, but that is not a reason for me to shut +my door on him. I am not a man, that I should repay kindness with +ingratitude! Know, monseigneur, that in all that relates to my +intimate feelings I render account only to God and to my +conscience," she concluded, laying her hand on her beautiful, fully +expanded bosom and looking up to heaven. + +"But for heaven's sake listen to me!" + +"Marry me, and I will be your slave!" + +"But that's impossible." + +"You won't deign to demean yourself by marrying me, you..." said +Helene, beginning to cry. + +The prince tried to comfort her, but Helene, as if quite distraught, +said through her tears that there was nothing to prevent her marrying, +that there were precedents (there were up to that time very few, but +she mentioned Napoleon and some other exalted personages), that she +had never been her husband's wife, and that she had been sacrificed. + +"But the law, religion..." said the prince, already yielding. + +"The law, religion... What have they been invented for if they can't +arrange that?" said Helene. + +The prince was surprised that so simple an idea had not occurred +to him, and he applied for advice to the holy brethren of the +Society of Jesus, with whom he was on intimate terms. + +A few days later at one of those enchanting fetes which Helene +gave at her country house on the Stone Island, the charming Monsieur +de Jobert, a man no longer young, with snow white hair and brilliant +black eyes, a Jesuit a robe courte~^ was presented to her, and in the +garden by the light of the illuminations and to the sound of music +talked to her for a long time of the love of God, of Christ, of the +Sacred Heart, and of the consolations the one true Catholic religion +affords in this world and the next. Helene was touched, and more +than once tears rose to her eyes and to those of Monsieur de Jobert +and their voices trembled. A dance, for which her partner came to seek +her, put an end to her discourse with her future directeur de +conscience, but the next evening Monsieur de Jobert came to see Helene +when she was alone, and after that often came again. + +^~ Lay member of the Society of Jesus. + +One day he took the countess to a Roman Catholic church, where she +knelt down before the altar to which she was led. The enchanting, +middle-aged Frenchman laid his hands on her head and, as she herself +afterward described it, she felt something like a fresh breeze +wafted into her soul. It was explained to her that this was la grace. + +After that a long-frocked abbe was brought to her. She confessed +to him, and he absolved her from her sins. Next day she received a box +containing the Sacred Host, which was left at her house for her to +partake of. A few days later Helene learned with pleasure that she had +now been admitted to the true Catholic Church and that in a few days +the Pope himself would hear of her and would send her a certain +document. + +All that was done around her and to her at this time, all the +attention devoted to her by so many clever men and expressed in such +pleasant, refined ways, and the state of dove-like purity she was +now in (she wore only white dresses and white ribbons all that time) +gave her pleasure, but her pleasure did not cause her for a moment +to forget her aim. And as it always happens in contests of cunning +that a stupid person gets the better of cleverer ones, Helene- +having realized that the main object of all these words and all this +trouble was, after converting her to Catholicism, to obtain money from +her for Jesuit institutions (as to which she received indications)- +before parting with her money insisted that the various operations +necessary to free her from her husband should be performed. In her +view the aim of every religion was merely to preserve certain +proprieties while affording satisfaction to human desires. And with +this aim, in one of her talks with her Father Confessor, she +insisted on an answer to the question, in how far was she bound by her +marriage? + +They were sitting in the twilight by a window in the drawing room. +The scent of flowers came in at the window. Helene was wearing a white +dress, transparent over her shoulders and bosom. The abbe, a +well-fed man with a plump, clean-shaven chin, a pleasant firm mouth, +and white hands meekly folded on his knees, sat close to Helene and, +with a subtle smile on his lips and a peaceful look of delight at +her beauty, occasionally glanced at her face as he explained his +opinion on the subject. Helene with an uneasy smile looked at his +curly hair and his plump, clean-shaven, blackish cheeks and every +moment expected the conversation to take a fresh turn. But the abbe, +though he evidently enjoyed the beauty of his companion, was +absorbed in his mastery of the matter. + +The course of the Father Confessor's arguments ran as follows: +"Ignorant of the import of what you were undertaking, you made a vow +of conjugal fidelity to a man who on his part, by entering the married +state without faith in the religious significance of marriage, +committed an act of sacrilege. That marriage lacked the dual +significance it should have had. Yet in spite of this your vow was +binding. You swerved from it. What did you commit by so acting? A +venial, or a mortal, sin? A venial sin, for you acted without evil +intention. If now you married again with the object of bearing +children, your sin might be forgiven. But the question is again a +twofold one: firstly..." + +But suddenly Helene, who was getting bored, said with one of her +bewitching smiles: "But I think that having espoused the true religion +I cannot be bound by what a false religion laid upon me." + +The director of her conscience was astounded at having the case +presented to him thus with the simplicity of Columbus' egg. He was +delighted at the unexpected rapidity of his pupil's progress, but +could not abandon the edifice of argument he had laboriously +constructed. + +"Let us understand one another, Countess," said he with a smile, and +began refuting his spiritual daughter's arguments. + +CHAPTER VII + +Helene understood that the question was very simple and easy from +the ecclesiastical point of view, and that her directors were making +difficulties only because they were apprehensive as to how the +matter would be regarded by the secular authorities. + +So she decided that it was necessary to prepare the opinion of +society. She provoked the jealousy of the elderly magnate and told him +what she had told her other suitor; that is, she put the matter so +that the only way for him to obtain a right over her was to marry her. +The elderly magnate was at first as much taken aback by this +suggestion of marriage with a woman whose husband was alive, as the +younger man had been, but Helene's imperturbable conviction that it +was as simple and natural as marrying a maiden had its effect on him +too. Had Helene herself shown the least sign of hesitation, shame, +or secrecy, her cause would certainly have been lost; but not only did +she show no signs of secrecy or shame, on the contrary, with +good-natured naivete she told her intimate friends (and these were all +Petersburg) that both the prince and the magnate had proposed to her +and that she loved both and was afraid of grieving either. + +A rumor immediately spread in Petersburg, not that Helene wanted +to be divorced from her husband (had such a report spread many would +have opposed so illegal an intention) but simply that the +unfortunate and interesting Helene was in doubt which of the two men +she should marry. The question was no longer whether this was +possible, but only which was the better match and how the matter would +be regarded at court. There were, it is true, some rigid individuals +unable to rise to the height of such a question, who saw in the +project a desecration of the sacrament of marriage, but there were not +many such and they remained silent, while the majority were interested +in Helene's good fortune and in the question which match would be +the more advantageous. Whether it was right or wrong to remarry +while one had a husband living they did not discuss, for that question +had evidently been settled by people "wiser than you or me," as they +said, and to doubt the correctness of that decision would be to risk +exposing one's stupidity and incapacity to live in society. + +Only Marya Dmitrievna Akhrosimova, had come to Petersburg that +summer to see one of her sons, allowed herself plainly to express an +opinion contrary to the general one. Meeting Helene at a ball she +stopped her in the middle of the room and, amid general silence, +said in her gruff voice: "So wives of living men have started marrying +again! Perhaps you think you have invented a novelty? You have been +forestalled, my dear! It was thought of long ago. It is done in all +the brothels," and with these words Marya Dmitrievna, turning up her +wide sleeves with her usual threatening gesture and glancing sternly +round, moved across the room. + +Though people were afraid of Marya Dmitrievna she was regarded in +Petersburg as a buffoon, and so of what she had said they only +noticed, and repeated in a whisper, the one coarse word she had +used, supposing the whole sting of her remark to lie in that word. + +Prince Vasili, who of late very often forgot what he had said and +repeated one and the same thing a hundred times, remarked to his +daughter whenever he chanced to see her: + +"Helene, I have a word to say to you," and he would lead her +aside, drawing her hand downward. "I have heard of certain projects +concerning... you know. Well my dear child, you know how your father's +heart rejoices to know that you... You have suffered so much.... +But, my dear child, consult only your own heart. That is all I have to +say," and concealing his unvarying emotion he would press his cheek +against his daughter's and move away. + +Bilibin, who had not lost his reputation of an exceedingly clever +man, and who was one of one of the disinterested friends so +brilliant a woman as Helene always has- men friends who can never +change into lovers- once gave her his view of the matter at a small +and intimate gathering. + +"Listen, Bilibin," said Helene (she always called friends of that +sort by their surnames), and she touched his coat sleeve with her +white, beringed fingers. "Tell me, as you would a sister, what I ought +to do. Which of the two?" + +Bilibin wrinkled up the skin over his eyebrows and pondered, with +a smile on his lips. + +"You are not taking me unawares, you know," said he. "As a true +friend, I have thought and thought again about your affair. You see, +if you marry the prince"- he meant the younger man- and he crooked one +finger, "you forever lose the chance of marrying the other, and you +will displease the court besides. (You know there is some kind of +connection.) But if you marry the old count you will make his last +days happy, and as widow of the Grand... the prince would no longer be +making a mesalliance by marrying you," and Bilibin smoothed out his +forehead. + +"That's a true friend!" said Helene beaming, and again touching +Bilibin's sleeve. "But I love them, you know, and don't want to +distress either of them. I would give my life for the happiness of +them both." + +Bilibin shrugged his shoulders, as much as to say that not even he +could help in that difficulty. + +"Une maitresse-femme!~^ That's what is called putting things +squarely. She would like to be married to all three at the same time," +thought he. + +^~ A masterly woman. + +"But tell me, how will your husband look at the matter?" Bilibin +asked, his reputation being so well established that he did not fear +to ask so naive a question. "Will he agree?" + +"Oh, he loves me so!" said Helene, who for some reason imagined that +Pierre too loved her. "He will do anything for me." + +Bilibin puckered his skin in preparation for something witty. + +"Even divorce you?" said he. + +Helene laughed. + +Among those who ventured to doubt the justifiability of the proposed +marriage was Helene's mother, Princess Kuragina. She was continually +tormented by jealousy of her daughter, and now that jealousy concerned +a subject near to her own heart, she could not reconcile herself to +the idea. She consulted a Russian priest as to the possibility of +divorce and remarriage during a husband's lifetime, and the priest +told her that it was impossible, and to her delight showed her a +text in the Gospel which (as it seemed to him) plainly remarriage +while the husband is alive. + +Armed with these arguments, which appeared to her unanswerable, +she drove to her daughter's early one morning so as to find her alone. + +Having listened to her mother's objections, Helene smiled blandly +and ironically. + +"But it says plainly: 'Whosoever shall marry her that is +divorced...'" said the old princess. + +"Ah, Maman, ne dites pas de betises. Vous ne comprenez rein. Dans ma +position j'ai des devoirs,"~^ said Helene changing from Russian, in +which language she always felt that her case did not sound quite +clear, into French which suited it better. + +^~ "Oh, Mamma, don't talk nonsense! You don't understand anything. +In my position I have obligations. + +"But, my dear...." + +"Oh, Mamma, how is it you don't understand that the Holy Father, who +has the right to grant dispensations..." + +Just then the lady companion who lived with Helene came in to +announce that His Highness was in the ballroom and wished to see her. + +"Non, dites-lui que je ne veux pas le voir, que je suis furieuse +contre lui, parce qu'il m' a manque parole."~^ + +^~ "No, tell him I don't wish to see him, I am furious with him for +not keeping his word to me." + +"Comtesse, a tout peche misericorde,"~^ said a fair-haired young +man with a long face and nose, as he entered the room. + +^~ "Countess, there is mercy for every sin." + +The old princess rose respectfully and curtsied. The young man who +had entered took no notice of her. The princess nodded to her daughter +and sidled out of the room. + +"Yes, she is right," thought the old princess, all her convictions +dissipated by the appearance of His Highness. "She is right, but how +is it that we in our irrecoverable youth did not know it? Yet it is so +simple," she thought as she got into her carriage. + +By the beginning of August Helene's affairs were clearly defined and +she wrote a letter to her husband- who, as she imagined, loved her +very much- informing him of her intention to marry N.N. and of her +having embraced the one true faith, and asking him to carry out all +the formalities necessary for a divorce, which would be explained to +him by the bearer of the letter. + +And so I pray God to have you, my friend, in His holy and powerful +keeping- Your friend Helene. + +This letter was brought to Pierre's house when he was on the field +of Borodino. + +CHAPTER VIII + +Toward the end of the battle of Borodino, Pierre, having run down +from Raevski's battery a second time, made his way through a gully +to Knyazkovo with a crowd of soldiers, reached the dressing station, +and seeing blood and hearing cries and groans hurried on, still +entangled in the crowds of soldiers. + +The one thing he now desired with his whole soul was to get away +quickly from the terrible sensations amid which he had lived that +day and return to ordinary conditions of life and sleep quietly in a +room in his own bed. He felt that only in the ordinary conditions of +life would he be able to understand himself and all he had seen and +felt. But such ordinary conditions of life were nowhere to be found. + +Though shells and bullets did not whistle over the road along +which he was going, still on all sides there was what there had been +on the field of battle. There were still the same suffering, +exhausted, and sometimes strangely indifferent faces, the same +blood, the same soldiers' overcoats, the same sounds of firing +which, though distant now, still aroused terror, and besides this +there were the foul air and the dust. + +Having gone a couple of miles along the Mozhaysk road, Pierre sat +down by the roadside. + +Dusk had fallen, and the roar of guns died away. Pierre lay +leaning on his elbow for a long time, gazing at the shadows that moved +past him in the darkness. He was continually imagining that a cannon +ball was flying toward him with a terrific whizz, and then he +shuddered and sat up. He had no idea how long he had been there. In +the middle of the night three soldiers, having brought some +firewood, settled down near him and began lighting a fire. + +The soldiers, who threw sidelong glances at Pierre, got the fire +to burn and placed an iron pot on it into which they broke some +dried bread and put a little dripping. The pleasant odor of greasy +viands mingled with the smell of smoke. Pierre sat up and sighed. +The three soldiers were eating and talking among themselves, taking no +notice of him. + +"And who may you be?" one of them suddenly asked Pierre, evidently +meaning what Pierre himself had in mind, namely: "If you want to eat +we'll give you some food, only let us know whether you are an honest +man." + +"I, I..." said Pierre, feeling it necessary to minimize his social +position as much as possible so as to be nearer to the soldiers and +better understood by them. "By rights I am a militia officer, but my +men are not here. I came to the battle and have lost them." + +"There now!" said one of the soldiers. + +Another shook his head. + +"Would you like a little mash?" the first soldier asked, and +handed Pierre a wooden spoon after licking it clean. + +Pierre sat down by the fire and began eating the mash, as they +called the food in the cauldron, and he thought it more delicious than +any food he had ever tasted. As he sat bending greedily over it, +helping himself to large spoonfuls and chewing one after another, +his was lit up by the fire and the soldiers looked at him in silence. + +"Where have you to go to? Tell us!" said one of them. + +"To Mozhaysk." + +"You're a gentleman, aren't you?" + +"Yes." + +"And what's your name?" + +"Peter Kirilych." + +"Well then, Peter Kirilych, come along with us, we'll take you +there." + +In the total darkness the soldiers walked with Pierre to Mozhaysk. + +By the time they got near Mozhaysk and began ascending the steep +hill into the town, the cocks were already crowing. Pierre went on +with the soldiers, quite forgetting that his inn was at the bottom +of the hill and that he had already passed it. He would not soon +have remembered this, such was his state of forgetfulness, had he +not halfway up the hill stumbled upon his groom, who had been to +look for him in the town and was returning to the inn. The groom +recognized Pierre in the darkness by his white hat. + +"Your excellency!" he said. "Why, we were beginning to despair! +How is it you are on foot? And where are you going, please?" + +"Oh, yes!" said Pierre. + +The soldiers stopped. + +"So you've found your folk?" said one of them. "Well, good-by, Peter +Kirilych- isn't it?" + +"Good-by, Peter Kirilych!" Pierre heard the other voices repeat. + +"Good-by!" he said and turned with his groom toward the inn. + +"I ought to give them something!" he thought, and felt in his +pocket. "No, better not!" said another, inner voice. + +There was not a room to be had at the inn, they were all occupied. +Pierre went out into the yard and, covering himself up head and all, +lay down in his carriage. + +CHAPTER IX + +Scarcely had Pierre laid his head on the pillow before he felt +himself falling asleep, but suddenly, almost with the distinctness +of reality, he heard the boom, boom, boom of firing, the thud of +projectiles, groans and cries, and smelled blood and powder, and a +feeling of horror and dread of death seized him. Filled with fright he +opened his eyes and lifted his head from under his cloak. All was +tranquil in the yard. Only someone's orderly passed through the +gateway, splashing through the mud, and talked to the innkeeper. Above +Pierre's head some pigeons, disturbed by the movement he had made in +sitting up, fluttered under the dark roof of the penthouse. The +whole courtyard was permeated by a strong peaceful smell of stable +yards, delightful to Pierre at that moment. He could see the clear +starry sky between the dark roofs of two penthouses. + +"Thank God, there is no more of that!" he thought, covering up his +head again. "Oh, what a terrible thing is fear, and how shamefully I +yielded to it! But they... they were steady and calm all the time, +to the end..." thought he. + +They, in Pierre's mind, were the soldiers, those who had been at the +battery, those who had given him food, and those who had prayed before +the icon. They, those strange men he had not previously known, stood +out clearly and sharply from everyone else. + +"To be a soldier, just a soldier!" thought Pierre as he fell asleep, +"to enter communal life completely, to be imbued by what makes them +what they are. But how cast off all the superfluous, devilish burden +of my outer man? There was a time when I could have done it. I could +have run away from my father, as I wanted to. Or I might have been +sent to serve as a soldier after the duel with Dolokhov." And the +memory of the dinner at the English Club when he had challenged +Dolokhov flashed through Pierre's mind, and then he remembered his +benefactor at Torzhok. And now a picture of a solemn meeting of the +lodge presented itself to his mind. It was taking place at the English +Club and someone near and dear to him sat at the end of the table. +"Yes, that is he! It is my benefactor. But he died!" thought Pierre. +"Yes, he died, and I did not know he was alive. How sorry I am that he +died, and how glad I am that he is alive again!" On one side of the +table sat Anatole, Dolokhov, Nesvitski, Denisov, and others like +them (in his dream the category to which these men belonged was as +clearly defined in his mind as the category of those he termed +they), and he heard those people, Anatole and Dolokhov, shouting and +singing loudly; yet through their shouting the voice of his benefactor +was heard speaking all the time and the sound of his words was as +weighty and uninterrupted as the booming on the battlefield, but +pleasant and comforting. Pierre did not understand what his benefactor +was saying, but he knew (the categories of thoughts were also quite +distinct in his dream) that he was talking of goodness and the +possibility of being what they were. And they with their simple, kind, +firm faces surrounded his benefactor on all sides. But though they +were kindly they did not look at Pierre and did not know him. +Wishing to speak and to attract their attention, he got up, but at +that moment his legs grew cold and bare. + +He felt ashamed, and with one arm covered his legs from which his +cloak had in fact slipped. For a moment as he was rearranging his +cloak Pierre opened his eyes and saw the same penthouse roofs, +posts, and yard, but now they were all bluish, lit up, and +glittering with frost or dew. + +"It is dawn," thought Pierre. "But that's not what I want. I want to +hear and understand my benefactor's words." Again he covered himself +up with his cloak, but now neither the lodge nor his benefactor was +there. There were only thoughts clearly expressed in words, thoughts +that someone was uttering or that he himself was formulating. + +Afterwards when he recalled those thoughts Pierre was convinced that +someone outside himself had spoken them, though the impressions of +that day had evoked them. He had never, it seemed to him, been able to +think and express his thoughts like that when awake. + +"To endure war is the most difficult subordination of man's +freedom to the law of God," the voice had said. "Simplicity is +submission to the will of God; you cannot escape from Him. And they +are simple. They do not talk, but act. The spoken word is silver but +the unspoken is golden. Man can be master of nothing while he fears +death, but he who does not fear it possesses all. If there were no +suffering, man would not know his limitations, would not know himself. +The hardest thing [Pierre went on thinking, or hearing, in his +dream] is to be able in your soul to unite the meaning of all. To +unite all?" he asked himself. "No, not to unite. Thoughts cannot be +united, but to harness all these thoughts together is what we need! +Yes, one must harness them, must harness them!" he repeated to himself +with inward rapture, feeling that these words and they alone expressed +what he wanted to say and solved the question that tormented him. + +"Yes, one must harness, it is time to harness." + +"Time to harness, time to harness, your excellency! Your +excellency!" some voice was repeating. "We must harness, it is time to +harness...." + +It was the voice of the groom, trying to wake him. The sun shone +straight into Pierre's face. He glanced at the dirty innyard in the +middle of which soldiers were watering their lean horses at the pump +while carts were passing out of the gate. Pierre turned away with +repugnance, and closing his eyes quickly fell back on the carriage +seat. "No, I don't want that, I don't want to see and understand that. +I want to understand what was revealing itself to me in my dream. +One second more and I should have understood it all! But what am I +to do? Harness, but how can I harness everything?" and Pierre felt +with horror that the meaning of all he had seen and thought in the +dream had been destroyed. + +The groom, the coachman, and the innkeeper told Pierre that an +officer had come with news that the French were already near +Mozhaysk and that our men were leaving it. + +Pierre got up and, having told them to harness and overtake him, +went on foot through the town. + +The troops were moving on, leaving about ten thousand wounded behind +them. There were wounded in the yards, at the windows of the houses, +and the streets were crowded with them. In the streets, around carts +that were to take some of the wounded away, shouts, curses, and +blows could be heard. Pierre offered the use of his carriage, which +had overtaken him, to a wounded general he knew, and drove with him to +Moscow. On the way Pierre was told of the death of his +brother-in-law Anatole and of that of Prince Andrew. + +CHAPTER X + +On the thirteenth of August Pierre reached Moscow. Close to the +gates of the city he was met by Count Rostopchin's adjutant. + +"We have been looking for you everywhere," said the adjutant. "The +count wants to see you particularly. He asks you to come to him at +once on a very important matter." + +Without going home, Pierre took a cab and drove to see the Moscow +commander in chief. + +Count Rostopchin had only that morning returned to town from his +summer villa at Sokolniki. The anteroom and reception room of his +house were full of officials who had been summoned or had come for +orders. Vasilchikov and Platov had already seen the count and +explained to him that it was impossible to defend Moscow and that it +would have to be surrendered. Though this news was being concealed +from the inhabitants, the officials- the heads of the various +government departments- knew that Moscow would soon be in the +enemy's hands, just as Count Rostopchin himself knew it, and to escape +personal responsibility they had all come to the governor to ask how +they were to deal with their various departments. + +As Pierre was entering the reception room a courier from the army +came out of Rostopchin's private room. + +In answer to questions with which he was greeted, the courier made a +despairing gesture with his hand and passed through the room. + +While waiting in the reception room Pierre with weary eyes watched +the various officials, old and young, military and civilian, who +were there. They all seemed dissatisfied and uneasy. Pierre went up to +a group of men, one of whom he knew. After greeting Pierre they +continued their conversation. + +"If they're sent out and brought back again later on it will do no +harm, but as things are now one can't answer for anything." + +"But you see what he writes..." said another, pointing to a +printed sheet he held in his hand. + +"That's another matter. That's necessary for the people," said the +first. + +"What is it?" asked Pierre. + +"Oh, it's a fresh broadsheet." + +Pierre took it and began reading. + +His Serene Highness has passed through Mozhaysk in order to join +up with the troops moving toward him and has taken up a strong +position where the enemy will not soon attack him. Forty eight guns +with ammunition have been sent him from here, and his Serene +Highness says he will defend Moscow to the last drop of blood and is +even ready to fight in the streets. Do not be upset, brothers, that +the law courts are closed; things have to be put in order, and we will +deal with villains in our own way! When the time comes I shall want +both town and peasant lads and will raise the cry a day or two +beforehand, but they are not wanted yet so I hold my peace. An ax will +be useful, a hunting spear not bad, but a three-pronged fork will be +best of all: a Frenchman is no heavier than a sheaf of rye. Tomorrow +after dinner I shall take the Iberian icon of the Mother of God to the +wounded in the Catherine Hospital where we will have some water +blessed. That will help them to get well quicker. I, too, am well now: +one of my eyes was sore but now I am on the lookout with both. + +"But military men have told me that it is impossible to fight in the +town," said Pierre, "and that the position..." + +"Well, of course! That's what we were saying," replied the first +speaker. + +"And what does he mean by 'One of my eyes was sore but now I am on +the lookout with both'?" asked Pierre. + +"The count had a sty," replied the adjutant smiling, "and was very +much upset when I told him people had come to ask what was the +matter with him. By the by, Count," he added suddenly, addressing +Pierre with a smile, "we heard that you have family troubles and +that the countess, your wife..." + +"I have heard nothing," Pierre replied unconcernedly. "But what have +you heard?" + +"Oh, well, you know people often invent things. I only say what I +heard." + +"But what did you hear?" + +"Well, they say," continued the adjutant with the same smile, +"that the countess, your wife, is preparing to go abroad. I expect +it's nonsense...." + +"Possibly," remarked Pierre, looking about him absent-mindedly. "And +who is that?" he asked, indicating a short old man in a clean blue +peasant overcoat, with a big snow-white beard and eyebrows and a ruddy +face. + +"He? That's a tradesman, that is to say, he's the restaurant keeper, +Vereshchagin. Perhaps you have heard of that affair with the +proclamation." + +"Oh, so that is Vereshchagin!" said Pierre, looking at the firm, +calm face of the old man and seeking any indication of his being a +traitor. + +"That's not he himself, that's the father of the fellow who wrote +the proclamation," said the adjutant. "The young man is in prison +and I expect it will go hard with him." + +An old gentleman wearing a star and another official, a German +wearing a cross round his neck, approached the speaker. + +"It's a complicated story, you know," said the adjutant. "That +proclamation appeared about two months ago. The count was informed +of it. He gave orders to investigate the matter. Gabriel Ivanovich +here made the inquiries. The proclamation had passed through exactly +sixty-three hands. He asked one, 'From whom did you get it?' 'From +so-and-so.' He went to the next one. 'From whom did you get it?' and +so on till he reached Vereshchagin, a half educated tradesman, you +know, 'a pet of a trader,'" said the adjutant smiling. "They asked +him, 'Who gave it you?' And the point is that we knew whom he had it +from. He could only have had it from the Postmaster. But evidently +they had come to some understanding. He replied: 'From no one; I +made it up myself.' They threatened and questioned him, but he stuck +to that: 'I made it up myself.' And so it was reported to the count, +who sent for the man. 'From whom did you get the proclamation?' 'I +wrote it myself.' Well, you know the count," said the adjutant +cheerfully, with a smile of pride, "he flared up dreadfully- and +just think of the fellow's audacity, lying, and obstinacy!" + +"And the count wanted him to say it was from Klyucharev? I +understand!" said Pierre. + +"Not at all," rejoined the adjutant in dismay. "Klyucharev had his +own sins to answer for without that and that is why he has been +banished. But the point is that the count was much annoyed. 'How could +you have written it yourself?' said he, and he took up the Hamburg +Gazette that was lying on the table. 'Here it is! You did not write it +yourself but translated it, and translated it abominably, because +you don't even know French, you fool.' And what do you think? 'No,' +said he, 'I have not read any papers, I made it up myself.' 'If that's +so, you're a traitor and I'll have you tried, and you'll be hanged! +Say from whom you had it.' 'I have seen no papers, I made it up +myself.' And that was the end of it. The count had the father fetched, +but the fellow stuck to it. He was sent for trial and condemned to +hard labor, I believe. Now the father has come to intercede for him. +But he's a good-for-nothing lad! You know that sort of tradesman's +son, a dandy and lady-killer. He attended some lectures somewhere +and imagines that the devil is no match for him. That's the sort of +fellow he is. His father keeps a cookshop here by the Stone Bridge, +and you know there was a large icon of God Almighty painted with a +scepter in one hand and an orb in the other. Well, he took that icon +home with him for a few days and what did he do? He found some +scoundrel of a painter..." + +CHAPTER XI + +In the middle of this fresh tale Pierre was summoned to the +commander in chief. + +When he entered the private room Count Rostopchin, puckering his +face, was rubbing his forehead and eyes with his hand. A short man was +saying something, but when Pierre entered he stopped speaking and went +out. + +"Ah, how do you do, great warrior?" said Rostopchin as soon as the +short man had left the room. "We have heard of your prowess. But +that's not the point. Between ourselves, mon cher, do you belong to +the Masons?" he went on severely, as though there were something wrong +about it which he nevertheless intended to pardon. Pierre remained +silent. "I am well informed, my friend, but I am aware that there +are Masons and Masons and I hope that you are not one of those who +on pretense of saving mankind wish to ruin Russia." + +"Yes, I am a Mason," Pierre replied. + +"There, you see, mon cher! I expect you know that Messrs. +Speranski and Magnitski have been deported to their proper place. +Mr. Klyucharev has been treated in the same way, and so have others +who on the plea of building up the temple of Solomon have tried to +destroy the temple of their fatherland. You can understand that +there are reasons for this and that I could not have exiled the +Postmaster had he not been a harmful person. It has now come to my +knowledge that you lent him your carriage for his removal from town, +and that you have even accepted papers from him for safe custody. I +like you and don't wish you any harm and- as you are only half my age- +I advise you, as a father would, to cease all communication with men +of that stamp and to leave here as soon as possible." + +"But what did Klyucharev do wrong, Count?" asked Pierre. + +"That is for me to know, but not for you to ask," shouted +Rostopchin. + +"If he is accused of circulating Napoleon's proclamation it is not +proved that he did so," said Pierre without looking at Rostopchin, +"and Vereshchagin..." + +"There we are!" Rostopchin shouted at Pierre louder than before, +frowning suddenly. "Vereshchagin is a renegade and a traitor who +will be punished as he deserves," said he with the vindictive heat +with which people speak when recalling an insult. "But I did not +summon you to discuss my actions, but to give you advice- or an +order if you prefer it. I beg you to leave the town and break off +all communication with such men as Klyucharev. And I will knock the +nonsense out of anybody"- but probably realizing that he was +shouting at Bezukhov who so far was not guilty of anything, he +added, taking Pierre's hand in a friendly manner, "We are on the eve +of a public disaster and I haven't time to be polite to everybody +who has business with me. My head is sometimes in a whirl. Well, mon +cher, what are you doing personally?" + +"Why, nothing," answered Pierre without raising his eyes or changing +the thoughtful expression of his face. + +The count frowned. + +"A word of friendly advice, mon cher. Be off as soon as you can, +that's all I have to tell you. Happy he who has ears to hear. Good-by, +my dear fellow. Oh, by the by!" he shouted through the doorway after +Pierre, "is it true that the countess has fallen into the clutches +of the holy fathers of the Society of Jesus?" + +Pierre did not answer and left Rostopchin's room more sullen and +angry than he had ever before shown himself. + +When he reached home it was already getting dark. Some eight +people had come to see him that evening: the secretary of a committee, +the colonel of his battalion, his steward, his major-domo, and various +petitioners. They all had business with Pierre and wanted decisions +from him. Pierre did not understand and was not interested in any of +these questions and only answered them in order to get rid of these +people. When left alone at last he opened and read his wife's letter. + +"They, the soldiers at the battery, Prince Andrew killed... that old +man... Simplicity is submission to God. Suffering is necessary... +the meaning of all... one must harness... my wife is getting +married... One must forget and understand..." And going to his bed +he threw himself on it without undressing and immediately fell asleep. + +When he awoke next morning the major-domo came to inform him that +a special messenger, a police officer, had come from Count +Rostopchin to know whether Count Bezukhov had left or was leaving +the town. + +A dozen persons who had business with Pierre were awaiting him in +the drawing room. Pierre dressed hurriedly and, instead of going to +see them, went to the back porch and out through the gate. + +From that time till the end of the destruction of Moscow no one of +Bezukhov's household, despite all the search they made, saw Pierre +again or knew where he was. + +CHAPTER XII + +The Rostovs remained in Moscow till the first of September, that is, +till the eve of the enemy's entry into the city. + +After Petya had joined Obolenski's regiment of Cossacks and left for +Belaya Tserkov where that regiment was forming, the countess was +seized with terror. The thought that both her sons were at the war, +had both gone from under her wing, that today or tomorrow either or +both of them might be killed like the three sons of one of her +acquaintances, struck her that summer for the first time with cruel +clearness. She tried to get Nicholas back and wished to go herself +to join Petya, or to get him an appointment somewhere in Petersburg, +but neither of these proved possible. Petya could not return unless +his regiment did so or unless he was transferred to another regiment +on active service. Nicholas was somewhere with the army and had not +sent a word since his last letter, in which he had given a detailed +account of his meeting with Princess Mary. The countess did not +sleep at night, or when she did fall asleep dreamed that she saw her +sons lying dead. After many consultations and conversations, the count +at last devised means to tranquillize her. He got Petya transferred +from Obolenski's regiment to Bezukhov's, which was in training near +Moscow. Though Petya would remain in the service, this transfer +would give the countess the consolation of seeing at least one of +her sons under her wing, and she hoped to arrange matters for her +Petya so as not to let him go again, but always get him appointed to +places where he could not possibly take part in a battle. As long as +Nicholas alone was in danger the countess imagined that she loved +her first-born more than all her other children and even reproached +herself for it; but when her youngest: the scapegrace who had been bad +at lessons, was always breaking things in the house and making himself +a nuisance to everybody, that snub-nosed Petya with his merry black +eyes and fresh rosy cheeks where soft down was just beginning to show- +when he was thrown amid those big, dreadful, cruel men who were +fighting somewhere about something and apparently finding pleasure +in it- then his mother thought she loved him more, much more, than all +her other children. The nearer the time came for Petya to return, +the more uneasy grew the countess. She began to think she would +never live to see such happiness. The presence of Sonya, of her +beloved Natasha, or even of her husband irritated her. "What do I want +with them? I want no one but Petya," she thought. + +At the end of August the Rostovs received another letter from +Nicholas. He wrote from the province of Voronezh where he had been +sent to procure remounts, but that letter did not set the countess +at ease. Knowing that one son was out of danger she became the more +anxious about Petya. + +Though by the twentieth of August nearly all the Rostovs' +acquaintances had left Moscow, and though everybody tried to +persuade the countess to get away as quickly as possible, she would +not bear of leaving before her treasure, her adored Petya, returned. +On the twenty-eighth of August he arrived. The passionate tenderness +with which his mother received him did not please the sixteen-year-old +officer. Though she concealed from him her intention of keeping him +under her wing, Petya guessed her designs, and instinctively fearing +that he might give way to emotion when with her- might "become +womanish" as he termed it to himself- he treated her coldly, avoided +her, and during his stay in Moscow attached himself exclusively to +Natasha for whom he had always had a particularly brotherly +tenderness, almost lover-like. + +Owing to the count's customary carelessness nothing was ready for +their departure by the twenty-eighth of August and the carts that were +to come from their Ryazan and Moscow estates to remove their household +belongings did not arrive till the thirtieth. + +From the twenty-eighth till the thirty-first all Moscow was in a +bustle and commotion. Every day thousands of men wounded at Borodino +were brought in by the Dorogomilov gate and taken to various parts +of Moscow, and thousands of carts conveyed the inhabitants and their +possessions out by the other gates. In spite of Rostopchin's +broadsheets, or because of them or independently of them, the +strangest and most contradictory rumors were current in the town. Some +said that no one was to be allowed to leave the city, others on the +contrary said that all the icons had been taken out of the churches +and everybody was to be ordered to leave. Some said there had been +another battle after Borodino at which the French had been routed, +while others on the contrary reported that the Russian army bad been +destroyed. Some talked about the Moscow militia which, preceded by the +clergy, would go to the Three Hills; others whispered that Augustin +had been forbidden to leave, that traitors had been seized, that the +peasants were rioting and robbing people on their way from Moscow, and +so on. But all this was only talk; in reality (though the Council of +Fili, at which it was decided to abandon Moscow, had not yet been +held) both those who went away and those who remained behind felt, +though they did not show it, that Moscow would certainly be abandoned, +and that they ought to get away as quickly as possible and save +their belongings. It was felt that everything would suddenly break +up and change, but up to the first of September nothing had done so. +As a criminal who is being led to execution knows that he must die +immediately, but yet looks about him and straightens the cap that is +awry on his head, so Moscow involuntarily continued its wonted life, +though it knew that the time of its destruction was near when the +conditions of life to which its people were accustomed to submit would +be completely upset. + +During the three days preceding the occupation of Moscow the whole +Rostov family was absorbed in various activities. The head of the +family, Count Ilya Rostov, continually drove about the city collecting +the current rumors from all sides and gave superficial and hasty +orders at home about the preparations for their departure. + +The countess watched the things being packed, was dissatisfied +with everything, was constantly in pursuit of Petya who was always +running away from her, and was jealous of Natasha with whom he spent +all his time. Sonya alone directed the practical side of matters by +getting things packed. But of late Sonya had been particularly sad and +silent. Nicholas' letter in which he mentioned Princess Mary had +elicited, in her presence, joyous comments from the countess, who +saw an intervention of Providence in this meeting of the princess +and Nicholas. + +"I was never pleased at Bolkonski's engagement to Natasha," said the +countess, "but I always wanted Nicholas to marry the princess, and had +a presentiment that it would happen. What a good thing it would be!" + +Sonya felt that this was true: that the only possibility of +retrieving the Rostovs' affairs was by Nicholas marrying a rich woman, +and that the princess was a good match. It was very bitter for her. +But despite her grief, or perhaps just because of it, she took on +herself all the difficult work of directing the storing and packing of +their things and was busy for whole days. The count and countess +turned to her when they had any orders to give. Petya and Natasha on +the contrary, far from helping their parents, were generally a +nuisance and a hindrance to everyone. Almost all day long the house +resounded with their running feet, their cries, and their +spontaneous laughter. They laughed and were gay not because there +was any reason to laugh, but because gaiety and mirth were in their +hearts and so everything that happened was a cause for gaiety and +laughter to them. Petya was in high spirits because having left home a +boy he had returned (as everybody told him) a fine young man, +because he was at home, because he had left Belaya Tserkov where there +was no hope of soon taking part in a battle and had come to Moscow +where there was to be fighting in a few days, and chiefly because +Natasha, whose lead he always followed, was in high spirits. Natasha +was gay because she had been sad too long and now nothing reminded her +of the cause of her sadness, and because she was feeling well. She was +also happy because she had someone to adore her: the adoration of +others was a lubricant the wheels of her machine needed to make them +run freely- and Petya adored her. Above all, they were gay because +there was a war near Moscow, there would be fighting at the town +gates, arms were being given out, everybody was escaping- going away +somewhere, and in general something extraordinary was happening, and +that is always exciting, especially to the young. + +CHAPTER XIII + +On Saturday, the thirty-first of August, everything in the +Rostovs' house seemed topsy-turvy. All the doors were open, all the +furniture was being carried out or moved about, and the mirrors and +pictures had been taken down. There were trunks in the rooms, and hay, +wrapping paper, and ropes were scattered about. The peasants and house +serfs carrying out the things were treading heavily on the parquet +floors. The yard was crowded with peasant carts, some loaded high +and already corded up, others still empty. + +The voices and footsteps of the many servants and of the peasants +who had come with the carts resounded as they shouted to one another +in the yard and in the house. The count bad been out since morning. +The countess had a headache brought on by all the noise and turmoil +and was lying down in the new sitting room with a vinegar compress +on her head. Petya was not at home, he had gone to visit a friend with +whom he meant to obtain a transfer from the militia to the active +army. Sonya was in the ballroom looking after the packing of the glass +and china. Natasha was sitting on the floor of her dismantled room +with dresses, ribbons, and scarves strewn all about her, gazing +fixedly at the floor and holding in her hands the old ball dress +(already out of fashion) which she had worn at her first Petersburg +ball. + +Natasha was ashamed of doing nothing when everyone else was so busy, +and several times that morning had tried to set to work, but her heart +was not in it, and she could not and did not know how to do anything +except with all her heart and all her might. For a while she had stood +beside Sonya while the china was being packed and tried to help, but +soon gave it up and went to her room to pack her own things. At +first she found it amusing to give away dresses and ribbons to the +maids, but when that was done and what was left had still to be +packed, she found it dull. + +"Dunyasha, you pack! You will, won't you, dear?" And when Dunyasha +willingly promised to do it all for her, Natasha sat down on the +floor, took her old ball dress, and fell into a reverie quite +unrelated to what ought to have occupied her thoughts now. She was +roused from her reverie by the talk of the maids in the next room +(which was theirs) and by the sound of their hurried footsteps going +to the back porch. Natasha got up and looked out of the window. An +enormously long row of carts full of wounded men had stopped in the +street. + +The housekeeper, the old nurse, the cooks, coachmen, maids, footmen, +postilions, and scullions stood at the gate, staring at the wounded. + +Natasha, throwing a clean pocket handkerchief over her hair and +holding an end of it in each hand, went out into the street. + +The former housekeeper, old Mavra Kuzminichna, had stepped out of +the crowd by the gate, gone up to a cart with a hood constructed of +bast mats, and was speaking to a pale young officer who lay inside. +Natasha moved a few steps forward and stopped shyly, still holding her +handkerchief, and listened to what the housekeeper was saying. + +"Then you have nobody in Moscow?" she was saying. "You would be more +comfortable somewhere in a house... in ours, for instance... the +family are leaving." + +"I don't know if it would be allowed," replied the officer in a weak +voice. "Here is our commanding officer... ask him," and he pointed +to a stout major who was walking back along the street past the row of +carts. + +Natasha glanced with frightened eyes at the face of the wounded +officer and at once went to meet the major. + +"May the wounded men stay in our house?" she asked. + +The major raised his hand to his cap with a smile. + +"Which one do you want, Ma'am'selle?" said he, screwing up his +eyes and smiling. + +Natasha quietly repeated her question, and her face and whole manner +were so serious, though she was still holding the ends of her +handkerchief, that the major ceased smiling and after some reflection- +as if considering in how far the thing was possible- replied in the +affirmative. + +"Oh yes, why not? They may," he said. + +With a slight inclination of her head, Natasha stepped back +quickly to Mavra Kuzminichna, who stood talking compassionately to the +officer. + +"They may. He says they may!" whispered Natasha. + +The cart in which the officer lay was turned into the Rostovs' yard, +and dozens of carts with wounded men began at the invitation of the +townsfolk to turn into the yards and to draw up at the entrances of +the houses in Povarskaya Street. Natasha was evidently pleased to be +dealing with new people outside the ordinary routine of her life. +She and Mavra Kuzminichna tried to get as many of the wounded as +possible into their yard. + +"Your Papa must be told, though," said Mavra Kuzminichna. + +"Never mind, never mind, what does it matter? For one day we can +move into the drawing room. They can have all our half of the house." + +"There now, young lady, you do take things into your head! Even if +we put them into the wing, the men's room, or the nurse's room, we +must ask permission." + +"Well, I'll ask." + +Natasha ran into the house and went on tiptoe through the +half-open door into the sitting room, where there was a smell of +vinegar and Hoffman's drops. + +"Are you asleep, Mamma?" + +"Oh, what sleep-?" said the countess, waking up just as she was +dropping into a doze. + +"Mamma darling!" said Natasha, kneeling by her mother and bringing +her face close to her mother's, "I am sorry, forgive me, I'll never do +it again; I woke you up! Mavra Kuzminichna has sent me: they have +brought some wounded here- officers. Will you let them come? They have +nowhere to go. I knew you'd let them come!" she said quickly all in +one breath. + +"What officers? Whom have they brought? I don't understand +anything about it," said the countess. + +Natasha laughed, and the countess too smiled slightly. + +"I knew you'd give permission... so I'll tell them," and, having +kissed her mother, Natasha got up and went to the door. + +In the hall she met her father, who had returned with bad news. + +"We've stayed too long!" said the count with involuntary vexation. +"The Club is closed and the police are leaving." + +"Papa, is it all right- I've invited some of the wounded into the +house?" said Natasha. + +"Of course it is," he answered absently. "That's not the point. I +beg you not to indulge in trifles now, but to help to pack, and +tomorrow we must go, go, go!...." + +And the count gave a similar order to the major-domo and the +servants. + +At dinner Petya having returned home told them the news he had +heard. He said the people had been getting arms in the Kremlin, and +that though Rostopchin's broadsheet had said that he would sound a +call two or three days in advance, the order had certainly already +been given for everyone to go armed to the Three Hills tomorrow, and +that there would be a big battle there. + +The countess looked with timid horror at her son's eager, excited +face as he said this. She realized that if she said a word about his +not going to the battle (she knew he enjoyed the thought of the +impending engagement) he would say something about men, honor, and the +fatherland- something senseless, masculine, and obstinate which +there would be no contradicting, and her plans would be spoiled; and +so, hoping to arrange to leave before then and take Petya with her +as their protector and defender, she did not answer him, but after +dinner called the count aside and implored him with tears to take +her away quickly, that very night if possible. With a woman's +involuntary loving cunning she, who till then had not shown any alarm, +said that she would die of fright if they did not leave that very +night. Without any pretense she was now afraid of everything. + +CHAPTER XIV + +Madame Schoss, who had been out to visit her daughter, increased the +countess' fears still more by telling what she had seen at a spirit +dealer's in Myasnitski Street. When returning by that street she had +been unable to pass because of a drunken crowd rioting in front of the +shop. She had taken a cab and driven home by a side street and the +cabman had told her that the people were breaking open the barrels +at the drink store, having received orders to do so. + +After dinner the whole Rostov household set to work with +enthusiastic haste packing their belongings and preparing for their +departure. The old count, suddenly setting to work, kept passing +from the yard to the house and back again, shouting confused +instructions to the hurrying people, and flurrying them still more. +Petya directed things in the yard. Sonya, owing to the count's +contradictory orders, lost her head and did not know what to do. The +servants ran noisily about the house and yard, shouting and disputing. +Natasha, with the ardor characteristic of all she did suddenly set +to work too. At first her intervention in the business of packing +was received skeptically. Everybody expected some prank from her and +did not wish to obey her; but she resolutely and passionately demanded +obedience, grew angry and nearly cried because they did not heed +her, and at last succeeded in making them believe her. Her first +exploit, which cost her immense effort and established her +authority, was the packing of the carpets. The count had valuable +Gobelin tapestries and Persian carpets in the house. When Natasha +set to work two cases were standing open in the ballroom, one almost +full up with crockery, the other with carpets. There was also much +china standing on the tables, and still more was being brought in from +the storeroom. A third case was needed and servants had gone to +fetch it. + +"Sonya, wait a bit- we'll pack everything into these," said Natasha. + +"You can't, Miss, we have tried to," said the butler's assistant. + +"No, wait a minute, please." + +And Natasha began rapidly taking out of the case dishes and plates +wrapped in paper. + +"The dishes must go in here among the carpets," said she. + +"Why, it's a mercy if we can get the carpets alone into three +cases," said the butler's assistant. + +"Oh, wait, please!" And Natasha began rapidly and deftly sorting out +the things. "These aren't needed," said she, putting aside some plates +of Kiev ware. "These- yes, these must go among the carpets," she said, +referring to the Saxony china dishes. + +"Don't, Natasha! Leave it alone! We'll get it all packed," urged +Sonya reproachfully. + +"What a young lady she is!" remarked the major-domo. + +But Natasha would not give in. She turned everything out and began +quickly repacking, deciding that the inferior Russian carpets and +unnecessary crockery should not be taken at all. When everything had +been taken out of the cases, they recommenced packing, and it turned +out that when the cheaper things not worth taking had nearly all +been rejected, the valuable ones really did all go into the two cases. +Only the lid of the case containing the carpets would not shut down. A +few more things might have been taken out, but Natasha insisted on +having her own way. She packed, repacked, pressed, made the butler's +assistant and Petya- whom she had drawn into the business of +packing- press on the lid, and made desperate efforts herself. + +"That's enough, Natasha," said Sonya. "I see you were right, but +just take out the top one." + +"I won't!" cried Natasha, with one hand bolding back the hair that +hung over her perspiring face, while with the other she pressed down +the carpets. "Now press, Petya! Press, Vasilich, press hard!" she +cried. + +The carpets yielded and the lid closed; Natasha, clapping her hands, +screamed with delight and tears fell from her eyes. But this only +lasted a moment. She at once set to work afresh and they now trusted +her completely. The count was not angry even when they told him that +Natasha had countermanded an order of his, and the servants now came +to her to ask whether a cart was sufficiently loaded, and whether it +might be corded up. Thanks to Natasha's directions the work now went +on expeditiously, unnecessary things were left, and the most +valuable packed as compactly as possible. + +But hard as they all worked till quite late that night, they could +not get everything packed. The countess had fallen asleep and the +count, having put off their departure till next morning, went to bed. + +Sonya and Natasha slept in the sitting room without undressing. + +That night another wounded man was driven down the Povarskaya, and +Mavra Kuzminichna, who was standing at the gate, had him brought +into the Rostovs' yard. Mavra Kuzminichna concluded that he was a very +important man. He was being conveyed in a caleche with a raised +hood, and was quite covered by an apron. On the box beside the +driver sat a venerable old attendant. A doctor and two soldiers +followed the carriage in a cart. + +"Please come in here. The masters are going away and the whole house +will be empty," said the old woman to the old attendant. + +"Well, perhaps," said he with a sigh. "We don't expect to get him +home alive! We have a house of our own in Moscow, but it's a long +way from here, and there's nobody living in it." + +"Do us the honor to come in, there's plenty of everything in the +master's house. Come in," said Mavra Kuzminichna. "Is he very ill?" +she asked. + +The attendant made a hopeless gesture. + +"We don't expect to get him home! We must ask the doctor." + +And the old servant got down from the box and went up to the cart. + +"All right!" said the doctor. + +The old servant returned to the caleche, looked into it, shook his +head disconsolately, told the driver to turn into the yard, and +stopped beside Mavra Kuzminichna. + +"O, Lord Jesus Christ!" she murmured. + +She invited them to take the wounded man into the house. + +"The masters won't object..." she said. + +But they had to avoid carrying the man upstairs, and so they took +him into the wing and put him in the room that had been Madame +Schoss'. + +This wounded man was Prince Andrew Bolkonski. + +CHAPTER XV + +Moscow's last day had come. It was a clear bright autumn day, a +Sunday. The church bells everywhere were ringing for service, just +as usual on Sundays. Nobody seemed yet to realize what awaited the +city. + +Only two things indicated the social condition of Moscow- the +rabble, that is the poor people, and the price of commodities. An +enormous crowd of factory hands, house serfs, and peasants, with +whom some officials, seminarists, and gentry were mingled, had gone +early that morning to the Three Hills. Having waited there for +Rostopchin who did not turn up, they became convinced that Moscow +would be surrendered, and then dispersed all about the town to the +public houses and cookshops. Prices too that day indicated the state +of affairs. The price of weapons, of gold, of carts and horses, kept +rising, but the value of paper money and city articles kept falling, +so that by midday there were instances of carters removing valuable +goods, such as cloth, and receiving in payment a half of what they +carted, while peasant horses were fetching five hundred rubles each, +and furniture, mirrors, and bronzes were being given away for nothing. + +In the Rostovs' staid old-fashioned house the dissolution of +former conditions of life was but little noticeable. As to the serfs +the only indication was that three out of their huge retinue +disappeared during the night, but nothing was stolen; and as to the +value of their possessions, the thirty peasant carts that had come +in from their estates and which many people envied proved to be +extremely valuable and they were offered enormous sums of money for +them. Not only were huge sums offered for the horses and carts, but on +the previous evening and early in the morning of the first of +September, orderlies and servants sent by wounded officers came to the +Rostovs' and wounded men dragged themselves there from the Rostovs' +and from neighboring houses where they were accommodated, entreating +the servants to try to get them a lift out of Moscow. The major-domo +to whom these entreaties were addressed, though he was sorry for the +wounded, resolutely refused, saying that he dare not even mention +the matter to the count. Pity these wounded men as one might, it was +evident that if they were given one cart there would be no reason to +refuse another, or all the carts and one's own carriages as well. +Thirty carts could not save all the wounded and in the general +catastrophe one could not disregard oneself and one's own family. So +thought the major-domo on his master's behalf. + +On waking up that morning Count Ilya Rostov left his bedroom softly, +so as not to wake the countess who had fallen asleep only toward +morning, and came out to the porch in his lilac silk dressing gown. In +the yard stood the carts ready corded. The carriages were at the front +porch. The major-domo stood at the porch talking to an elderly orderly +and to a pale young officer with a bandaged arm. On seeing the count +the major-domo made a significant and stern gesture to them both to go +away. + +"Well, Vasilich, is everything ready?" asked the count, and stroking +his bald head he looked good-naturedly at the officer and the +orderly and nodded to them. (He liked to see new faces.) + +"We can harness at once, your excellency." + +"Well, that's right. As soon as the countess wakes we'll be off, God +willing! What is it, gentlemen?" he added, turning to the officer. +"Are you staying in my house?" + +The officer came nearer and suddenly his face flushed crimson. + +"Count, be so good as to allow me... for God's sake, to get into +some corner of one of your carts! I have nothing here with me.... I +shall be all right on a loaded cart..." + +Before the officer had finished speaking the orderly made the same +request on behalf of his master. + +"Oh, yes, yes,yes!" said the count hastily. "I shall be very +pleased, very pleased. Vasilich, you'll see to it. Just unload one +or two carts. Well, what of it... do what's necessary..." said the +count, muttering some indefinite order. + +But at the same moment an expression of warm gratitude on the +officer's face had already sealed the order. The count looked around +him. In the yard, at the gates, at the window of the wings, wounded +officers and their orderlies were to be seen. They were all looking at +the count and moving toward the porch. + +"Please step into the gallery, your excellency," said the +major-domo. "What are your orders about the pictures?" + +The count went into the house with him, repeating his order not to +refuse the wounded who asked for a lift. + +"Well, never mind, some of the things can be unloaded," he added +in a soft, confidential voice, as though afraid of being overheard. + +At nine o'clock the countess woke up, and Matrena Timofeevna, who +had been her lady's maid before her marriage and now performed a +sort of chief gendarme's duty for her, came to say that Madame +Schoss was much offended and the young ladies' summer dresses could +not be left behind. On inquiry, the countess learned that Madame +Schoss was offended because her trunk had been taken down from its +cart, and all the loads were being uncorded and the luggage taken +out of the carts to make room for wounded men whom the count in the +simplicity of his heart had ordered that they should take with them. +The countess sent for her husband. + +"What is this, my dear? I hear that the luggage is being unloaded." + +"You know, love, I wanted to tell you... Countess dear... an officer +came to me to ask for a few carts for the wounded. After all, ours are +things that can be bought but think what being left behind means to +them!... Really now, in our own yard- we asked them in ourselves and +there are officers among them.... You know, I think, my dear... let +them be taken... where's the hurry?" + +The count spoke timidly, as he always did when talking of money +matters. The countess was accustomed to this tone as a precursor of +news of something detrimental to the children's interests, such as the +building of a new gallery or conservatory, the inauguration of a +private theater or an orchestra. She was accustomed always to oppose +anything announced in that timid tone and considered it her duty to do +so. + +She assumed her dolefully submissive manner and said to her husband: +"Listen to me, Count, you have managed matters so that we are +getting nothing for the house, and now you wish to throw away all our- +all the children's property! You said yourself that we have a +hundred thousand rubles' worth of things in the house. I don't +consent, my dear, I don't! Do as you please! It's the government's +business to look after the wounded; they know that. Look at the +Lopukhins opposite, they cleared out everything two days ago. That's +what other people do. It's only we who are such fools. If you have +no pity on me, have some for the children." + +Flourishing his arms in despair the count left the room without +replying. + +"Papa, what are you doing that for?" asked Natasha, who had followed +him into her mother's room. + +"Nothing! What business is it of yours?" muttered the count angrily. + +"But I heard," said Natasha. "Why does Mamma object?" + +"What business is it of yours?" cried the count. + +Natasha stepped up to the window and pondered. + +"Papa! Here's Berg coming to see us," said she, looking out of the +window. + +CHAPTER XVI + +Berg, the Rostovs' son-in-law, was already a colonel wearing the +orders of Vladimir and Anna, and he still filled the quiet and +agreeable post of assistant to the head of the staff of the +assistant commander of the first division of the Second Army. + +On the first of September he had come to Moscow from the army. + +He had nothing to do in Moscow, but he had noticed that everyone +in the army was asking for leave to visit Moscow and had something +to do there. So he considered it necessary to ask for leave of absence +for family and domestic reasons. + +Berg drove up to his father-in-law's house in his spruce little trap +with a pair of sleek roans, exactly like those of a certain prince. He +looked attentively at the carts in the yard and while going up to +the porch took out a clean pocket handkerchief and tied a knot in it. + +From the anteroom Berg ran with smooth though impatient steps into +the drawing room, where he embraced the count, kissed the hands of +Natasha and Sonya, and hastened to inquire after "Mamma's" health. + +"Health, at a time like this?" said the count. "Come, tell us the +news! Is the army retreating or will there be another battle?" + +"God Almighty alone can decide the fate of our fatherland, Papa," +said Berg. "The army is burning with a spirit of heroism and the +leaders, so to say, have now assembled in council. No one knows what +is coming. But in general I can tell you, Papa, that such a heroic +spirit, the truly antique valor of the Russian army, which they- which +it" (he corrected himself) "has shown or displayed in the battle of +the twenty-sixth- there are no words worthy to do it justice! I tell +you, Papa" (he smote himself on the breast as a general he had heard +speaking had done, but Berg did it a trifle late for he should have +struck his breast at the words "Russian army"), "I tell you frankly +that we, the commanders, far from having to urge the men on or +anything of that kind, could hardly restrain those... those... yes, +those exploits of antique valor," he went on rapidly. "General Barclay +de Tolly risked his life everywhere at the head of the troops, I can +assure you. Our corps was stationed on a hillside. You can imagine!" + +And Berg related all that he remembered of the various tales he +had heard those days. Natasha watched him with an intent gaze that +confused him, as if she were trying to find in his face the answer +to some question. + +"Altogether such heroism as was displayed by the Russian warriors +cannot be imagined or adequately praised!" said Berg, glancing round +at Natasha, and as if anxious to conciliate her, replying to her +intent look with a smile. "'Russia is not in Moscow, she lives in +the hearts of her sons!' Isn't it so, Papa?" said he. + +Just then the countess came in from the sitting room with a weary +and dissatisfied expression. Berg hurriedly jumped up, kissed her +hand, asked about her health, and, swaying his head from side to +side to express sympathy, remained standing beside her. + +"Yes, Mamma, I tell you sincerely that these are hard and sad +times for every Russian. But why are you so anxious? You have still +time to get away...." + +"I can't think what the servants are about," said the countess, +turning to her husband. "I have just been told that nothing is ready +yet. Somebody after all must see to things. One misses Mitenka at such +times. There won't be any end to it." + +The count was about to say something, but evidently restrained +himself. He got up from his chair and went to the door. + +At that moment Berg drew out his handkerchief as if to blow his nose +and, seeing the knot in it, pondered, shaking his head sadly and +significantly. + +"And I have a great favor to ask of you, Papa," said he. + +"Hm..." said the count, and stopped. + +"I was driving past Yusupov's house just now," said Berg with a +laugh, "when the steward, a man I know, ran out and asked me whether I +wouldn't buy something. I went in out of curiosity, you know, and +there is a small chiffonier and a dressing table. You know how dear +Vera wanted a chiffonier like that and how we had a dispute about it." +(At the mention of the chiffonier and dressing table Berg +involuntarily changed his tone to one of pleasure at his admirable +domestic arrangements.) "And it's such a beauty! It pulls out and +has a secret English drawer, you know! And dear Vera has long wanted +one. I wish to give her a surprise, you see. I saw so many of those +peasant carts in your yard. Please let me have one, I will pay the man +well, and..." + +The count frowned and coughed. + +"Ask the countess, I don't give orders." + +"If it's inconvenient, please don't," said Berg. "Only I so wanted +it, for dear Vera's sake." + +"Oh, go to the devil, all of you! To the devil, the devil, the +devil..." cried the old count. "My head's in a whirl!" + +And he left the room. The countess began to cry. + +"Yes, Mamma! Yes, these are very hard times!" said Berg. + +Natasha left the room with her father and, as if finding it +difficult to reach some decision, first followed him and then ran +downstairs. + +Petya was in the porch, engaged in giving out weapons to the +servants who were to leave Moscow. The loaded carts were still +standing in the yard. Two of them had been uncorded and a wounded +officer was climbing into one of them helped by an orderly. + +"Do you know what it's about?" Petya asked Natasha. + +She understood that he meant what were their parents quarreling +about. She did not answer. + +"It's because Papa wanted to give up all the carts to the +wounded," said Petya. "Vasilich told me. I consider..." + +"I consider," Natasha suddenly almost shouted, turning her angry +face to Petya, "I consider it so horrid, so abominable, so... I +don't know what. Are we despicable Germans?" + +Her throat quivered with convulsive sobs and, afraid of weakening +and letting the force of her anger run to waste, she turned and rushed +headlong up the stairs. + +Berg was sitting beside the countess consoling her with the +respectful attention of a relative. The count, pipe in hand, was +pacing up and down the room, when Natasha, her face distorted by +anger, burst in like a tempest and approached her mother with rapid +steps. + +"It's horrid! It's abominable! she screamed. "You can't possibly +have ordered it!" + +Berg and the countess looked at her, perplexed and frightened. The +count stood still at the window and listened. + +"Mamma, it's impossible: see what is going on in the yard!" she +cried. "They will be left!..." + +"What's the matter with you? Who are 'they'? What do you want?" + +"Why, the wounded! It's impossible, Mamma. It's monstrous!... No, +Mamma darling, it's not the thing. Please forgive me, darling.... +Mamma, what does it matter what we take away? Only look what is +going on in the yard... Mamma!... It's impossible!" + +The count stood by the window and listened without turning round. +Suddenly he sniffed and put his face closer to the window. + +The countess glanced at her daughter, saw her face full of shame for +her mother, saw her agitation, and understood why her husband did +not turn to look at her now, and she glanced round quite disconcerted. + +"Oh, do as you like! Am I hindering anyone?" she said, not +surrendering at once. + +"Mamma, darling, forgive me!" + +But the countess pushed her daughter away and went up to her +husband. + +"My dear, you order what is right.... You know I don't understand +about it," said she, dropping her eyes shamefacedly. + +"The eggs... the eggs are teaching the hen," muttered the count +through tears of joy, and he embraced his wife who was glad to hide +her look of shame on his breast. + +"Papa! Mamma! May I see to it? May I?..." asked Natasha. "We will +still take all the most necessary things." + +The count nodded affirmatively, and Natasha, at the rapid pace at +which she used to run when playing at tag, ran through the ballroom to +the anteroom and downstairs into the yard. + +The servants gathered round Natasha, but could not believe the +strange order she brought them until the count himself, in his +wife's name, confirmed the order to give up all the carts to the +wounded and take the trunks to the storerooms. When they understood +that order the servants set to work at this new task with pleasure and +zeal. It no longer seemed strange to them but on the contrary it +seemed the only thing that could be done, just as a quarter of an hour +before it had not seemed strange to anyone that the wounded should +be left behind and the goods carted away but that had seemed the +only thing to do. + +The whole household, as if to atone for not having done it sooner, +set eagerly to work at the new task of placing the wounded in the +carts. The wounded dragged themselves out of their rooms and stood +with pale but happy faces round the carts. The news that carts were to +be had spread to the neighboring houses, from which wounded men +began to come into the Rostovs' yard. Many of the wounded asked them +not to unload the carts but only to let them sit on the top of the +things. But the work of unloading, once started, could not be +arrested. It seemed not to matter whether all or only half the +things were left behind. Cases full of china, bronzes, pictures, and +mirrors that had been so carefully packed the night before now lay +about the yard, and still they went on searching for and finding +possibilities of unloading this or that and letting the wounded have +another and yet another cart. + +"We can take four more men," said the steward. "They can have my +trap, or else what is to become of them?" + +"Let them have my wardrobe cart," said the countess. "Dunyasha can +go with me in the carriage." + +They unloaded the wardrobe cart and sent it to take wounded men from +a house two doors off. The whole household, servants included, was +bright and animated. Natasha was in a state of rapturous excitement +such as she had not known for a long time. + +"What could we fasten this onto?" asked the servants, trying to +fix a trunk on the narrow footboard behind a carriage. "We must keep +at least one cart." + +"What's in it?" asked Natasha. + +"The count's books." + +"Leave it, Vasilich will put it away. It's not wanted." + +The phaeton was full of people and there was a doubt as to where +Count Peter could sit. + +"On the box. You'll sit on the box, won't you, Petya?" cried +Natasha. + +Sonya too was busy all this time, but the aim of her efforts was +quite different from Natasha's. She was putting away the things that +had to be left behind and making a list of them as the countess +wished, and she tried to get as much taken away with them as possible. + +CHAPTER XVII + +Before two o'clock in the afternoon the Rostovs' four carriages, +packed full and with the horses harnessed, stood at the front door. +One by one the carts with the wounded had moved out of the yard. + +The caleche in which Prince Andrew was being taken attracted Sonya's +attention as it passed the front porch. With the help of a maid she +was arranging a seat for the countess in the huge high coach that +stood at the entrance. + +"Whose caleche is that?" she inquired, leaning out of the carriage +window. + +"Why, didn't you know, Miss?" replied the maid. "The wounded prince: +he spent the night in our house and is going with us." + +"But who is it? What's his name?" + +"It's our intended that was- Prince Bolkonski himself! They say he +is dying," replied the maid with a sigh. + +Sonya jumped out of the coach and ran to the countess. The countess, +tired out and already dressed in shawl and bonnet for her journey, was +pacing up and down the drawing room, waiting for the household to +assemble for the usual silent prayer with closed doors before +starting. Natasha was not in the room. + +"Mamma," said Sonya, "Prince Andrew is here, mortally wounded. He is +going with us." + +The countess opened her eyes in dismay and, seizing Sonya's arm, +glanced around. + +"Natasha?" she murmured. + +At that moment this news had only one significance for both of them. +They knew their Natasha, and alarm as to what would happen if she +heard this news stifled all sympathy for the man they both liked. + +"Natasha does not know yet, but he is going with us," said Sonya. + +"You say he is dying?" + +Sonya nodded. + +The countess put her arms around Sonya and began to cry. + +"The ways of God are past finding out!" she thought, feeling that +the Almighty Hand, hitherto unseen, was becoming manifest in all +that was now taking place. + +"Well, Mamma? Everything is ready. What's the matter?" asked +Natasha, as with animated face she ran into the room. + +"Nothing," answered the countess. "If everything is ready let us +start." + +And the countess bent over her reticule to hide her agitated face. +Sonya embraced Natasha and kissed her. + +Natasha looked at her inquiringly. + +"What is it? What has happened?" + +"Nothing... No..." + +"Is it something very bad for me? What is it?" persisted Natasha +with her quick intuition. + +Sonya sighed and made no reply. The count, Petya, Madame Schoss, +Mavra Kuzminichna, and Vasilich came into the drawing room and, having +closed the doors, they all sat down and remained for some moments +silently seated without looking at one another. + +The count was the first to rise, and with a loud sigh crossed +himself before the icon. All the others did the same. Then the count +embraced Mavra Kuzminichna and Vasilich, who were to remain in Moscow, +and while they caught at his hand and kissed his shoulder he patted +their backs lightly with some vaguely affectionate and comforting +words. The countess went into the oratory and there Sonya found her on +her knees before the icons that had been left here and there hanging +on the wall. (The most precious ones, with which some family tradition +was connected, were being taken with them.) + +In the porch and in the yard the men whom Petya had armed with +swords and daggers, with trousers tucked inside their high boots and +with belts and girdles tightened, were taking leave of those remaining +behind. + +As is always the case at a departure, much had been forgotten or put +in the wrong place, and for a long time two menservants stood one on +each side of the open door and the carriage steps waiting to help +the countess in, while maids rushed with cushions and bundles from the +house to the carriages, the caleche, the phaeton, and back again. + +"They always will forget everything!" said the countess. "Don't +you know I can't sit like that?" + +And Dunyasha, with clenched teeth, without replying but with an +aggrieved look on her face, hastily got into the coach to rearrange +the seat. + +"Oh, those servants!" said the count, swaying his head. + +Efim, the old coachman, who was the only one the countess trusted to +drive her, sat perched up high on the box and did not so much as +glance round at what was going on behind him. From thirty years' +experience he knew it would be some time yet before the order, "Be +off, in God's name!" would be given him: and he knew that even when it +was said he would be stopped once or twice more while they sent back +to fetch something that had been forgotten, and even after that he +would again be stopped and the countess herself would lean out of +the window and beg him for the love of heaven to drive carefully +down the hill. He knew all this and therefore waited calmly for what +would happen, with more patience than the horses, especially the +near one, the chestnut Falcon, who was pawing the ground and +champing his bit. At last all were seated, the carriage steps were +folded and pulled up, the door was shut, somebody was sent for a +traveling case, and the countess leaned out and said what she had to +say. Then Efim deliberately doffed his hat and began crossing himself. +The postilion and all the other servants did the same. "Off, in +God's name!" said Efim, putting on his hat. "Start!" The postilion +started the horses, the off pole horse tugged at his collar, the +high springs creaked, and the body of the coach swayed. The footman +sprang onto the box of the moving coach which jolted as it passed +out of the yard onto the uneven roadway; the other vehicles jolted +in their turn, and the procession of carriages moved up the street. In +the carriages, the caleche, and the phaeton, all crossed themselves as +they passed the church opposite the house. Those who were to remain in +Moscow walked on either side of the vehicles seeing the travelers off. + +Rarely had Natasha experienced so joyful a feeling as now, sitting +in the carriage beside the countess and gazing at the slowly +receding walls of forsaken, agitated Moscow. Occasionally she leaned +out of the carriage window and looked back and then forward at the +long train of wounded in front of them. Almost at the head of the line +she could see the raised hood of Prince Andrew's caleche. She did +not know who was in it, but each time she looked at the procession her +eyes sought that caleche. She knew it was right in front. + +In Kudrino, from the Nikitski, Presnya, and Podnovinsk Streets +came several other trains of vehicles similar to the Rostovs', and +as they passed along the Sadovaya Street the carriages and carts +formed two rows abreast. + +As they were going round the Sukharev water tower Natasha, who was +inquisitively and alertly scrutinizing the people driving or walking +past, suddenly cried out in joyful surprise: + +"Dear me! Mamma, Sonya, look, it's he!" + +"Who? Who?" + +"Look! Yes, on my word, it's Bezukhov!" said Natasha, putting her +head out of the carriage and staring at a tall, stout man in a +coachman's long coat, who from his manner of walking and moving was +evidently a gentleman in disguise, and who was passing under the +arch of the Sukharev tower accompanied by a small, sallow-faced, +beardless old man in a frieze coat. + +"Yes, it really is Bezukhov in a coachman's coat, with a +queer-looking old boy. Really," said Natasha, "look, look!" + +"No, it's not he. How can you talk such nonsense?" + +"Mamma," screamed Natasha, "I'll stake my head it's he! I assure +you! Stop, stop!" she cried to the coachman. + +But the coachman could not stop, for from the Meshchanski Street +came more carts and carriages, and the Rostovs were being shouted at +to move on and not block the way. + +In fact, however, though now much farther off than before, the +Rostovs all saw Pierre- or someone extraordinarily like him- in a +coachman's coat, going down the street with head bent and a serious +face beside a small, beardless old man who looked like a footman. That +old man noticed a face thrust out of the carriage window gazing at +them, and respectfully touching Pierre's elbow said something to him +and pointed to the carriage. Pierre, evidently engrossed in thought, +could not at first understand him. At length when he had understood +and looked in the direction the old man indicated, he recognized +Natasha, and following his first impulse stepped instantly and rapidly +toward the coach. But having taken a dozen steps he seemed to remember +something and stopped. + +Natasha's face, leaning out of the window, beamed with quizzical +kindliness. + +"Peter Kirilovich, come here! We have recognized you! This is +wonderful!" she cried, holding out her hand to him. "What are you +doing? Why are you like this?" + +Pierre took her outstretched hand and kissed it awkwardly as he +walked along beside her while the coach still moved on. + +"What is the matter, Count?" asked the countess in a surprised and +commiserating tone. + +"What? What? Why? Don't ask me," said Pierre, and looked round at +Natasha whose radiant, happy expression- of which he was conscious +without looking at her- filled him with enchantment. + +"Are you remaining in Moscow, then?" + +Pierre hesitated. + +"In Moscow?" he said in a questioning tone. "Yes, in Moscow. +Goodby!" + +"Ah, if only I were a man? I'd certainly stay with you. How +splendid!" said Natasha. "Mamma, if you'll let me, I'll stay!" + +Pierre glanced absently at Natasha and was about to say something, +but the countess interrupted him. + +"You were at the battle, we heard." + +"Yes, I was," Pierre answered. "There will be another battle +tomorrow..." he began, but Natasha interrupted him. + +"But what is the matter with you, Count? You are not like +yourself...." + +"Oh, don't ask me, don't ask me! I don't know myself. Tomorrow... +But no! Good-by, good-by!" he muttered. "It's an awful time!" and +dropping behind the carriage he stepped onto the pavement. + +Natasha continued to lean out of the window for a long time, beaming +at him with her kindly, slightly quizzical, happy smile. + +CHAPTER XVIII + +For the last two days, ever since leaving home, Pierre had been +living in the empty house of his deceased benefactor, Bazdeev. This is +how it happened. + +When he woke up on the morning after his return to Moscow and his +interview with Count Rostopchin, he could not for some time make out +where he was and what was expected of him. When he was informed that +among others awaiting him in his reception room there was a +Frenchman who had brought a letter from his wife, the Countess Helene, +he felt suddenly overcome by that sense of confusion and +hopelessness to which he was apt to succumb. He felt that everything +was now at an end, all was in confusion and crumbling to pieces, +that nobody was right or wrong, the future held nothing, and there was +no escape from this position. Smiling unnaturally and muttering to +himself, he first sat down on the sofa in an attitude of despair, then +rose, went to the door of the reception room and peeped through the +crack, returned flourishing his arms, and took up a book. His +major-domo came in a second time to say that the Frenchman who had +brought the letter from the countess was very anxious to see him if +only for a minute, and that someone from Bazdeev's widow had called to +ask Pierre to take charge of her husband's books, as she herself was +leaving for the country. + +"Oh, yes, in a minute; wait... or no! No, of course... go and say +I will come directly," Pierre replied to the major-domo. + +But as soon as the man had left the room Pierre took up his hat +which was lying on the table and went out of his study by the other +door. There was no one in the passage. He went along the whole +length of this passage to the stairs and, frowning and rubbing his +forehead with both hands, went down as far as the first landing. The +hall porter was standing at the front door. From the landing where +Pierre stood there was a second staircase leading to the back +entrance. He went down that staircase and out into the yard. No one +had seen him. But there were some carriages waiting, and as soon as +Pierre stepped out of the gate the coachmen and the yard porter +noticed him and raised their caps to him. When he felt he was being +looked at he behaved like an ostrich which hides its head in a bush in +order not to be seen: he hung his head and quickening his pace went +down the street. + +Of all the affairs awaiting Pierre that day the sorting of Joseph +Bazdeev's books and papers appeared to him the most necessary. + +He hired the first cab he met and told the driver to go to the +Patriarch's Ponds, where the widow Bazdeev's house was. + +Continually turning round to look at the rows of loaded carts that +were making their way from all sides out of Moscow, and balancing +his bulky body so as not to slip out of the ramshackle old vehicle, +Pierre, experiencing the joyful feeling of a boy escaping from school, +began to talk to his driver. + +The man told him that arms were being distributed today at the +Kremlin and that tomorrow everyone would be sent out beyond the +Three Hills gates and a great battle would be fought there. + +Having reached the Patriarch's Ponds Pierre found the Bazdeevs' +house, where he had not been for a long time past. He went up to the +gate. Gerasim, that sallow beardless old man Pierre had seen at +Torzhok five years before with Joseph Bazdeev, came out in answer to +his knock. + +"At home?" asked Pierre. + +"Owing to the present state of things Sophia Danilovna has gone to +the Torzhok estate with the children, your excellency." + +"I will come in all the same, I have to look through the books," +said Pierre. + +"Be so good as to step in. Makar Alexeevich, the brother of my +late master- may the kingdom of heaven be his- has remained here, +but he is in a weak state as you know," said the old servant. + +Pierre knew that Makar Alexeevich was Joseph Bazdeev's half-insane +brother and a hard drinker. + +"Yes, yes, I know. Let us go in..." said Pierre and entered the +house. + +A tall, bald-headed old man with a red nose, wearing a dressing gown +and with galoshes on his bare feet, stood in the anteroom. On seeing +Pierre he muttered something angrily and went away along the passage. + +"He was a very clever man but has now grown quite feeble, as your +honor sees," said Gerasim. "Will you step into the study?" Pierre +nodded. "As it was sealed up so it has remained, but Sophia +Danilovna gave orders that if anyone should come from you they were to +have the books." + +Pierre went into that gloomy study which he had entered with such +trepidation in his benefactor's lifetime. The room, dusty and +untouched since the death of Joseph Bazdeev was now even gloomier. + +Gerasim opened one of the shutters and left the room on tiptoe. +Pierre went round the study, approached the cupboard in which the +manuscripts were kept, and took out what had once been one of the most +important, the holy of holies of the order. This was the authentic +Scotch Acts with Bazdeev's notes and explanations. He sat down at +the dusty writing table, and, having laid the manuscripts before +him, opened them out, closed them, finally pushed them away, and +resting his head on his hand sank into meditation. + +Gerasim looked cautiously into the study several times and saw +Pierre always sitting in the same attitude. + +More than two hours passed and Gerasim took the liberty of making +a slight noise at the door to attract his attention, but Pierre did +not hear him. + +"Is the cabman to be discharged, your honor?" + +"Oh yes!" said Pierre, rousing himself and rising hurriedly. "Look +here," he added, taking Gerasim by a button of his coat and looking +down at the old man with moist, shining, and ecstatic eyes, "I say, do +you know that there is going to be a battle tomorrow?" + +"We heard so," replied the man. + +"I beg you not to tell anyone who I am, and to do what I ask you." + +"Yes, your excellency," replied Gerasim. "Will you have something to +eat?" + +"No, but I want something else. I want peasant clothes and a +pistol," said Pierre, unexpectedly blushing. + +"Yes, your excellency," said Gerasim after thinking for a moment. + +All the rest of that day Pierre spent alone in his benefactor's +study, and Gerasim heard him pacing restlessly from one corner to +another and talking to himself. And he spent the night on a bed made +up for him there. + +Gerasim, being a servant who in his time had seen many strange +things, accepted Pierre's taking up his residence in the house without +surprise, and seemed pleased to have someone to wait on. That same +evening- without even asking himself what they were wanted for- he +procured a coachman's coat and cap for Pierre, and promised to get him +the pistol next day. Makar Alexeevich came twice that evening +shuffling along in his galoshes as far as the door and stopped and +looked ingratiatingly at Pierre. But as soon as Pierre turned toward +him he wrapped his dressing gown around him with a shamefaced and +angry look and hurried away. It was when Pierre (wearing the +coachman's coat which Gerasim had procured for him and had disinfected +by steam) was on his way with the old man to buy the pistol at the +Sukharev market that he met the Rostovs. + +CHAPTER XIX + +Kutuzov's order to retreat through Moscow to the Ryazan road was +issued at night on the first of September. + +The first troops started at once, and during the night they +marched slowly and steadily without hurry. At daybreak, however, those +nearing the town at the Dorogomilov bridge saw ahead of them masses of +soldiers crowding and hurrying across the bridge, ascending on the +opposite side and blocking the streets and alleys, while endless +masses of troops were bearing down on them from behind, and an +unreasoning hurry and alarm overcame them. They all rushed forward +to the bridge, onto it, and to the fords and the boats. Kutuzov +himself had driven round by side streets to the other side of Moscow. + +By ten o'clock in the morning of the second of September, only the +rear guard remained in the Dorogomilov suburb, where they had ample +room. The main army was on the other side of Moscow or beyond it. + +At that very time, at ten in the morning of the second of September, +Napoleon was standing among his troops on the Poklonny Hill looking at +the panorama spread out before him. From the twenty-sixth of August to +the second of September, that is from the battle of Borodino to the +entry of the French into Moscow, during the whole of that agitating, +memorable week, there had been the extraordinary autumn weather that +always comes as a surprise, when the sun hangs low and gives more heat +than in spring, when everything shines so brightly in the rare clear +atmosphere that the eyes smart, when the lungs are strengthened and +refreshed by inhaling the aromatic autumn air, when even the nights +are warm, and when in those dark warm nights, golden stars startle and +delight us continually by falling from the sky. + +At ten in the morning of the second of September this weather +still held. + +The brightness of the morning was magical. Moscow seen from the +Poklonny Hill lay spaciously spread out with her river, her gardens, +and her churches, and she seemed to be living her usual life, her +cupolas glittering like stars in the sunlight. + +The view of the strange city with its peculiar architecture, such as +he had never seen before, filled Napoleon with the rather envious +and uneasy curiosity men feel when they see an alien form of life that +has no knowledge of them. This city was evidently living with the full +force of its own life. By the indefinite signs which, even at a +distance, distinguish a living body from a dead one, Napoleon from the +Poklonny Hill perceived the throb of life in the town and felt, as +it were, the breathing of that great and beautiful body. + +Every Russian looking at Moscow feels her to be a mother; every +foreigner who sees her, even if ignorant of her significance as the +mother city, must feel her feminine character, and Napoleon felt it. + +"Cette ville asiatique aux innombrables eglises, Moscou la sainte. +La voila done enfin, cette fameuse ville! Il etait temps,"~^ said he, +and dismounting he ordered a plan of Moscow to be spread out before +him, and summoned Lelorgne d'Ideville, the interpreter. + +^~ "That Asiatic city of the innumerable churches, holy Moscow! Here +it is then at last, that famous city. It was high time." + +"A town captured by the enemy is like a maid who has lost her +honor," thought he (he had said so to Tuchkov at Smolensk). From +that point of view he gazed at the Oriental beauty he had not seen +before. It seemed strange to him that his long-felt wish, which had +seemed unattainable, had at last been realized. In the clear morning +light he gazed now at the city and now at the plan, considering its +details, and the assurance of possessing it agitated and awed him. + +"But could it be otherwise?" he thought. "Here is this capital at my +feet. Where is Alexander now, and of what is he thinking? A strange, +beautiful, and majestic city; and a strange and majestic moment! In +what light must I appear to them!" thought he, thinking of his troops. +"Here she is, the reward for all those fainthearted men," he +reflected, glancing at those near him and at the troops who were +approaching and forming up. "One word from me, one movement of my +hand, and that ancient capital of the Tsars would perish. But my +clemency is always ready to descend upon the vanquished. I must be +magnanimous and truly great. But no, it can't be true that I am in +Moscow," he suddenly thought. "Yet here she is lying at my feet, +with her golden domes and crosses scintillating and twinkling in the +sunshine. But I shall spare her. On the ancient monuments of barbarism +and despotism I will inscribe great words of justice and mercy.... +It is just this which Alexander will feel most painfully, I know him." +(It seemed to Napoleon that the chief import of what was taking +place lay in the personal struggle between himself and Alexander.) +"From the height of the Kremlin- yes, there is the Kremlin, yes- I +will give them just laws; I will teach them the meaning of true +civilization, I will make generations of boyars remember their +conqueror with love. I will tell the deputation that I did not, and do +not, desire war, that I have waged war only against the false policy +of their court; that I love and respect Alexander and that in Moscow I +will accept terms of peace worthy of myself and of my people. I do not +wish to utilize the fortunes of war to humiliate an honored monarch. +'Boyars,' I will say to them, 'I do not desire war, I desire the peace +and welfare of all my subjects.' However, I know their presence will +inspire me, and I shall speak to them as I always do: clearly, +impressively, and majestically. But can it be true that I am in +Moscow? Yes, there she lies." + +"Qu'on m'amene les boyars,"~^ said he to his suite. + +^~ "Bring the boyars to me." + +A general with a brilliant suite galloped off at once to fetch the +boyars. + +Two hours passed. Napoleon had lunched and was again standing in the +same place on the Poklonny Hill awaiting the deputation. His speech to +the boyars had already taken definite shape in his imagination. That +speech was full of dignity and greatness as Napoleon understood it. + +He was himself carried away by the tone of magnanimity he intended +to adopt toward Moscow. In his imagination he appointed days for +assemblies at the palace of the Tsars, at which Russian notables and +his own would mingle. He mentally appointed a governor, one who +would win the hearts of the people. Having learned that there were +many charitable institutions in Moscow he mentally decided that he +would shower favors on them all. He thought that, as in Africa he +had to put on a burnoose and sit in a mosque, so in Moscow he must +be beneficent like the Tsars. And in order finally to touch the hearts +of the Russians- and being like all Frenchmen unable to imagine +anything sentimental without a reference to ma chere, ma tendre, ma +pauvre mere~^ - he decided that he would place an inscription on all +these establishments in large letters: "This establishment is +dedicated to my dear mother." Or no, it should be simply: Maison de ma +Mere,~^ he concluded. "But am I really in Moscow? Yes, here it +lies before me, but why is the deputation from the city so long in +appearing?" he wondered. + +^~ "My dear, my tender, my poor mother." + +^~ "House of my Mother." + +Meanwhile an agitated consultation was being carried on in +whispers among his generals and marshals at the rear of his suite. +Those sent to fetch the deputation had returned with the news that +Moscow was empty, that everyone had left it. The faces of those who +were not conferring together were pale and perturbed. They were not +alarmed by the fact that Moscow had been abandoned by its +inhabitants (grave as that fact seemed), but by the question how to +tell the Emperor- without putting him in the terrible position of +appearing ridiculous- that he had been awaiting the boyars so long +in vain: that there were drunken mobs left in Moscow but no one +else. Some said that a deputation of some sort must be scraped +together, others disputed that opinion and maintained that the Emperor +should first be carefully and skillfully prepared, and then told the +truth. + +"He will have to be told, all the same," said some gentlemen of +the suite. "But, gentlemen..." + +The position was the more awkward because the Emperor, meditating +upon his magnanimous plans, was pacing patiently up and down before +the outspread map, occasionally glancing along the road to Moscow from +under his lifted hand with a bright and proud smile. + +"But it's impossible..." declared the gentlemen of the suite, +shrugging their shoulders but not venturing to utter the implied word- +le ridicule... + +At last the Emperor, tired of futile expectation, his actor's +instinct suggesting to him that the sublime moment having been too +long drawn out was beginning to lose its sublimity, gave a sign with +his hand. A single report of a signaling gun followed, and the troops, +who were already spread out on different sides of Moscow, moved into +the city through Tver, Kaluga, and Dorogomilov gates. Faster and +faster, vying with one another, they moved at the double or at a trot, +vanishing amid the clouds of dust they raised and making the air +ring with a deafening roar of mingling shouts. + +Drawn on by the movement of his troops Napoleon rode with them as +far as the Dorogomilov gate, but there again stopped and, +dismounting from his horse, paced for a long time by the +Kammer-Kollezski rampart, awaiting the deputation. + +CHAPTER XX + +Meanwhile Moscow was empty. There were still people in it, perhaps a +fiftieth part of its former inhabitants had remained, but it was +empty. It was empty in the sense that a dying queenless hive is empty. + +In a queenless hive no life is left though to a superficial glance +it seems as much alive as other hives. + +The bees circle round a queenless hive in the hot beams of the +midday sun as gaily as around the living hives; from a distance it +smells of honey like the others, and bees fly in and out in the same +way. But one has only to observe that hive to realize that there is no +longer any life in it. The bees do not fly in the same way, the +smell and the sound that meet the beekeeper are not the same. To the +beekeeper's tap on the wall of the sick hive, instead of the former +instant unanimous humming of tens of thousands of bees with their +abdomens threateningly compressed, and producing by the rapid +vibration of their wings an aerial living sound, the only reply is a +disconnected buzzing from different parts of the deserted hive. From +the alighting board, instead of the former spirituous fragrant smell +of honey and venom, and the warm whiffs of crowded life, comes an odor +of emptiness and decay mingling with the smell of honey. There are +no longer sentinels sounding the alarm with their abdomens raised, and +ready to die in defense of the hive. There is no longer the measured +quiet sound of throbbing activity, like the sound of boiling water, +but diverse discordant sounds of disorder. In and out of the hive long +black robber bees smeared with honey fly timidly and shiftily. They do +not sting, but crawl away from danger. Formerly only bees laden with +honey flew into the hive, and they flew out empty; now they fly out +laden. The beekeeper opens the lower part of the hive and peers in. +Instead of black, glossy bees- tamed by toil, clinging to one +another's legs and drawing out the wax, with a ceaseless hum of labor- +that used to hang in long clusters down to the floor of the hive, +drowsy shriveled bees crawl about separately in various directions +on the floor and walls of the hive. Instead of a neatly glued floor, +swept by the bees with the fanning of their wings, there is a floor +littered with bits of wax, excrement, dying bees scarcely moving their +legs, and dead ones that have not been cleared away. + +The beekeeper opens the upper part of the hive and examines the +super. Instead of serried rows of bees sealing up every gap in the +combs and keeping the brood warm, he sees the skillful complex +structures of the combs, but no longer in their former state of +purity. All is neglected and foul. Black robber bees are swiftly and +stealthily prowling about the combs, and the short home bees, +shriveled and listless as if they were old, creep slowly about without +trying to hinder the robbers, having lost all motive and all sense +of life. Drones, bumblebees, wasps, and butterflies knock awkwardly +against the walls of the hive in their flight. Here and there among +the cells containing dead brood and honey an angry buzzing can +sometimes be heard. Here and there a couple of bees, by force of habit +and custom cleaning out the brood cells, with efforts beyond their +strength laboriously drag away a dead bee or bumblebee without knowing +why they do it. In another corner two old bees are languidly fighting, +or cleaning themselves, or feeding one another, without themselves +knowing whether they do it with friendly or hostile intent. In a third +place a crowd of bees, crushing one another, attack some victim and +fight and smother it, and the victim, enfeebled or killed, drops +from above slowly and lightly as a feather, among the heap of corpses. +The keeper opens the two center partitions to examine the brood cells. +In place of the former close dark circles formed by thousands of +bees sitting back to back and guarding the high mystery of generation, +he sees hundreds of dull, listless, and sleepy shells of bees. They +have almost all died unawares, sitting in the sanctuary they had +guarded and which is now no more. They reek of decay and death. Only a +few of them still move, rise, and feebly fly to settle on the +enemy's hand, lacking the spirit to die stinging him; the rest are +dead and fall as lightly as fish scales. The beekeeper closes the +hive, chalks a mark on it, and when he has time tears out its contents +and burns it clean. + +So in the same way Moscow was empty when Napoleon, weary, uneasy, +and morose, paced up and down in front of the Kammer-Kollezski +rampart, awaiting what to his mind was a necessary, if but formal, +observance of the proprieties- a deputation. + +In various corners of Moscow there still remained a few people +aimlessly moving about, following their old habits and hardly aware of +what they were doing. + +When with due circumspection Napoleon was informed that Moscow was +empty, he looked angrily at his informant, turned away, and silently +continued to walk to and fro. + +"My carriage!" he said. + +He took his seat beside the aide-de-camp on duty and drove into +the suburb. "Moscow deserted!" he said to himself. "What an incredible +event!" + +He did not drive into the town, but put up at an inn in the +Dorogomilov suburb. + +The coup de theatre had not come off. + +CHAPTER XXI + +The Russian troops were passing through Moscow from two o'clock at +night till two in the afternoon and bore away with them the wounded +and the last of the inhabitants who were leaving. + +The greatest crush during the movement of the troops took place at +the Stone, Moskva, and Yauza bridges. + +While the troops, dividing into two parts when passing around the +Kremlin, were thronging the Moskva and the Stone bridges, a great many +soldiers, taking advantage of the stoppage and congestion, turned back +from the bridges and slipped stealthily and silently past the church +of Vasili the Beatified and under the Borovitski gate, back up the +hill to the Red Square where some instinct told them they could easily +take things not belonging to them. Crowds of the kind seen at cheap +sales filled all the passages and alleys of the Bazaar. But there were +no dealers with voices of ingratiating affability inviting customers +to enter; there were no hawkers, nor the usual motley crowd of +female purchasers- but only soldiers, in uniforms and overcoats though +without muskets, entering the Bazaar empty-handed and silently +making their way out through its passages with bundles. Tradesmen +and their assistants (of whom there were but few) moved about among +the soldiers quite bewildered. They unlocked their shops and locked +them up again, and themselves carried goods away with the help their +assistants. On the square in front of the Bazaar were drummers beating +the muster call. But the roll of the drums did not make the looting +soldiers run in the direction of the drum as formerly, but made +them, on the contrary, run farther away. Among the soldiers in the +shops and passages some men were to be seen in gray coats, with +closely shaven heads. Two officers, one with a scarf over his +uniform and mounted on a lean, dark-gray horse, the other in an +overcoat and on foot, stood at the corner of Ilyinka Street, +talking. A third officer galloped up to them. + +"The general orders them all to be driven out at once, without fail. +This is outrageous! Half the men have dispersed." + +"Where are you off to?... Where?..." he shouted to three infantrymen +without muskets who, holding up the skirts of their overcoats, were +slipping past him into the Bazaar passage. "Stop, you rascals!" + +"But how are you going to stop them?" replied another officer. +"There is no getting them together. The army should push on before the +rest bolt, that's all!" + +"How can one push on? They are stuck there, wedged on the bridge, +and don't move. Shouldn't we put a cordon round to prevent the rest +from running away?" + +"Come, go in there and drive them out!" shouted the senior officer. + +The officer in the scarf dismounted, called up a drummer, and went +with him into the arcade. Some soldiers started running away in a +group. A shopkeeper with red pimples on his cheeks near the nose, +and a calm, persistent, calculating expression on his plump face, +hurriedly and ostentatiously approached the officer, swinging his +arms. + +"Your honor!" said he. "Be so good as to protect us! We won't grudge +trifles, you are welcome to anything- we shall be delighted! +Pray!... I'll fetch a piece of cloth at once for such an honorable +gentleman, or even two pieces with pleasure. For we feel how it is; +but what's all this- sheer robbery! If you please, could not guards be +placed if only to let us close the shop...." + +Several shopkeepers crowded round the officer. + +"Eh, what twaddle!" said one of them, a thin, stern-looking man. +"When one's head is gone one doesn't weep for one's hair! Take what +any of you like!" And flourishing his arm energetically he turned +sideways to the officer. + +"It's all very well for you, Ivan Sidorych, to talk," said the first +tradesman angrily. "Please step inside, your honor!" + +"Talk indeed!" cried the thin one. "In my three shops here I have +a hundred thousand rubles' worth of goods. Can they be saved when +the army has gone? Eh, what people! 'Against God's might our hands +can't fight.'" + +"Come inside, your honor!" repeated the tradesman, bowing. + +The officer stood perplexed and his face showed indecision. + +"It's not my business!" he exclaimed, and strode on quickly down one +of the passages. + +From one open shop came the sound of blows and vituperation, and +just as the officer came up to it a man in a gray coat with a shaven +head was flung out violently. + +This man, bent double, rushed past the tradesman and the officer. +The officer pounced on the soldiers who were in the shops, but at that +moment fearful screams reached them from the huge crowd on the +Moskva bridge and the officer ran out into the square. + +"What is it? What is it?" he asked, but his comrade was already +galloping off past Vasili the Beatified in the direction from which +the screams came. + +The officer mounted his horse and rode after him. When he reached +the bridge he saw two unlimbered guns, the infantry crossing the +bridge, several overturned carts, and frightened and laughing faces +among the troops. Beside the cannon a cart was standing to which two +horses were harnessed. Four borzois with collars were pressing close +to the wheels. The cart was loaded high, and at the very top, beside a +child's chair with its legs in the air, sat a peasant woman uttering +piercing and desperate shrieks. He was told by his fellow officers +that the screams of the crowd and the shrieks of the woman were due to +the fact that General Ermolov, coming up to the crowd and learning +that soldiers were dispersing among the shops while crowds of +civilians blocked the bridge, had ordered two guns to be unlimbered +and made a show of firing at the bridge. The crowd, crushing one +another, upsetting carts, and shouting and squeezing desperately, +had cleared off the bridge and the troops were now moving forward. + +CHAPTER XXII + +Meanwhile, the city itself was deserted. There was hardly anyone +in the streets. The gates and shops were all closed, only here and +there round the taverns solitary shouts or drunken songs could be +heard. Nobody drove through the streets and footsteps were rarely +heard. The Povarskaya was quite still and deserted. The huge courtyard +of the Rostovs' house was littered with wisps of hay and with dung +from the horses, and not a soul was to be seen there. In the great +drawing room of the house, which had been left with all it +contained, were two people. They were the yard porter Ignat, and the +page boy Mishka, Vasilich's grandson who had stayed in Moscow with his +grandfather. Mishka had opened the clavichord and was strumming on +it with one finger. The yard porter, his arms akimbo, stood smiling +with satisfaction before the large mirror. + +"Isn't it fine, eh, Uncle Ignat?" said the boy, suddenly beginning +to strike the keyboard with both hands. + +"Only fancy!" answered Ignat, surprised at the broadening grin on +his face in the mirror. + +"Impudence! Impudence!" they heard behind them the voice of Mavra +Kuzminichna who had entered silently. "How he's grinning, the fat mug! +Is that what you're here for? Nothing's cleared away down there and +Vasilich is worn out. Just you wait a bit!" + +Ignat left off smiling, adjusted his belt, and went out of the +room with meekly downcast eyes. + +"Aunt, I did it gently," said the boy. + +"I'll give you something gently, you monkey you!" cried Mavra +Kuzminichna, raising her arm threateningly. "Go and get the samovar to +boil for your grandfather." + +Mavra Kuzminichna flicked the dust off the clavichord and closed it, +and with a deep sigh left the drawing room and locked its main door. + +Going out into the yard she paused to consider where she should go +next- to drink tea in the servants' wing with Vasilich, or into the +storeroom to put away what still lay about. + +She heard the sound of quick footsteps in the quiet street. +Someone stopped at the gate, and the latch rattled as someone tried to +open it. Mavra Kuzminichna went to the gate. + +"Who do you want?" + +"The count- Count Ilya Andreevich Rostov." + +"And who are you?" + +"An officer, I have to see him," came the reply in a pleasant, +well-bred Russian voice. + +Mavra Kuzminichna opened the gate and an officer of eighteen, with +the round face of a Rostov, entered the yard. + +"They have gone away, sir. Went away yesterday at vespertime," +said Mavra Kuzminichna cordially. + +The young officer standing in the gateway, as if hesitating +whether to enter or not, clicked his tongue. + +"Ah, how annoying!" he muttered. "I should have come yesterday.... +Ah, what a pity." + +Meanwhile, Mavra Kuzminichna was attentively and sympathetically +examining the familiar Rostov features of the young man's face, his +tattered coat and trodden-down boots. + +"What did you want to see the count for?" she asked. + +"Oh well... it can't be helped!" said he in a tone of vexation and +placed his hand on the gate as if to leave. + +He again paused in indecision. + +"You see," he suddenly said, "I am a kinsman of the count's and he +has been very kind to me. As you see" (he glanced with an amused air +and good-natured smile at his coat and boots) "my things are worn +out and I have no money, so I was going to ask the count..." + +Mavra Kuzminichna did not let him finish. + +"Just wait a minute, sir. One little moment," said she. + +And as soon as the officer let go of the gate handle she turned and, +hurrying away on her old legs, went through the back yard to the +servants' quarters. + +While Mavra Kuzminichna was running to her room the officer walked +about the yard gazing at his worn-out boots with lowered head and a +faint smile on his lips. "What a pity I've missed Uncle! What a nice +old woman! Where has she run off to? And how am I to find the +nearest way to overtake my regiment, which must by now be getting near +the Rogozhski gate?" thought he. Just then Mavra Kuzminichna +appeared from behind the corner of the house with a frightened yet +resolute look, carrying a rolled-up check kerchief in her hand. +While still a few steps from the officer she unfolded the kerchief and +took out of it a white twenty-five-ruble assignat and hastily handed +it to him. + +"If his excellency had been at home, as a kinsman he would of +course... but as it is..." + +Mavra Kuzminichna grew abashed and confused. The officer did not +decline, but took the note quietly and thanked her. + +"If the count had been at home..." Mavra Kuzminichna went on +apologetically. "Christ be with you, sir! May God preserve you!" +said she, bowing as she saw him out. + +Swaying his head and smiling as if amused at himself, the officer +ran almost at a trot through the deserted streets toward the Yauza +bridge to overtake his regiment. + +But Mavra Kuzminichna stood at the closed gate for some time with +moist eyes, pensively swaying her head and feeling an unexpected +flow of motherly tenderness and pity for the unknown young officer. + +CHAPTER XXIII + +From an unfinished house on the Varvarka, the ground floor of +which was a dramshop, came drunken shouts and songs. On benches +round the tables in a dirty little room sat some ten factory hands. +Tipsy and perspiring, with dim eyes and wide-open mouths, they were +all laboriously singing some song or other. They were singing +discordantly, arduously, and with great effort, evidently not +because they wished to sing, but because they wanted to show they were +drunk and on a spree. One, a tall, fair-haired lad in a clean blue +coat, was standing over the others. His face with its fine straight +nose would have been handsome had it not been for his thin, +compressed, twitching lips and dull, gloomy, fixed eyes. Evidently +possessed by some idea, he stood over those who were singing, and +solemnly and jerkily flourished above their heads his white arm with +the sleeve turned up to the elbow, trying unnaturally to spread out +his dirty fingers. The sleeve of his coat kept slipping down and he +always carefully rolled it up again with his left hand, as if it +were most important that the sinewy white arm he was flourishing +should be bare. In the midst of the song cries were heard, and +fighting and blows in the passage and porch. The tall lad waved his +arm. + +"Stop it!" he exclaimed peremptorily. "There's a fight, lads!" +And, still rolling up his sleeve, he went out to the porch. + +The factory hands followed him. These men, who under the +leadership of the tall lad were drinking in the dramshop that morning, +had brought the publican some skins from the factory and for this +had had drink served them. The blacksmiths from a neighboring +smithy, hearing the sounds of revelry in the tavern and supposing it +to have been broken into, wished to force their way in too and a fight +in the porch had resulted. + +The publican was fighting one of the smiths at the door, and when +the workmen came out the smith, wrenching himself free from the tavern +keeper, fell face downward on the pavement. + +Another smith tried to enter the doorway, pressing against the +publican with his chest. + +The lad with the turned-up sleeve gave the smith a blow in the +face and cried wildly: "They're fighting us, lads!" + +At that moment the first smith got up and, scratching his bruised +face to make it bleed, shouted in a tearful voice: "Police! Murder!... +They've killed a man, lads!" + +"Oh, gracious me, a man beaten to death- killed!..." screamed a +woman coming out of a gate close by. + +A crowd gathered round the bloodstained smith. + +"Haven't you robbed people enough- taking their last shirts?" said a +voice addressing the publican. "What have you killed a man for, you +thief?" + +The tall lad, standing in the porch, turned his bleared eyes from +the publican to the smith and back again as if considering whom he +ought to fight now. + +"Murderer!" he shouted suddenly to the publican. "Bind him, lads!" + +"I daresay you would like to bind me!" shouted the publican, pushing +away the men advancing on him, and snatching his cap from his head +he flung it on the ground. + +As if this action had some mysterious and menacing significance, the +workmen surrounding the publican paused in indecision. + +"I know the law very well, mates! I'll take the matter to the +captain of police. You think I won't get to him? Robbery is not +permitted to anybody now a days!" shouted the publican, picking up his +cap. + +"Come along then! Come along then!" the publican and the tall +young fellow repeated one after the other, and they moved up the +street together. + +The bloodstained smith went beside them. The factory hands and +others followed behind, talking and shouting. + +At the corner of the Moroseyka, opposite a large house with closed +shutters and bearing a bootmaker's signboard, stood a score of thin, +worn-out, gloomy-faced bootmakers, wearing overalls and long +tattered coats. + +"He should pay folks off properly," a thin workingman, with frowning +brows and a straggly beard, was saying. + +"But he's sucked our blood and now he thinks he's quit of us. He's +been misleading us all the week and now that he's brought us to this +pass he's made off." + +On seeing the crowd and the bloodstained man the workman ceased +speaking, and with eager curiosity all the bootmakers joined the +moving crowd. + +"Where are all the folks going?" + +"Why, to the police, of course!" + +"I say, is it true that we have been beaten?" "And what did you +think? Look what folks are saying." + +Questions and answers were heard. The publican, taking advantage +of the increased crowd, dropped behind and returned to his tavern. + +The tall youth, not noticing the disappearance of his foe, waved his +bare arm and went on talking incessantly, attracting general attention +to himself. It was around him that the people chiefly crowded, +expecting answers from him to the questions that occupied all their +minds. + +"He must keep order, keep the law, that's what the government is +there for. Am I not right, good Christians?" said the tall youth, with +a scarcely perceptible smile. "He thinks there's no government! How +can one do without government? Or else there would be plenty who'd rob +us." + +"Why talk nonsense?" rejoined voices in the crowd. "Will they give +up Moscow like this? They told you that for fun, and you believed +it! Aren't there plenty of troops on the march? Let him in, indeed! +That's what the government is for. You'd better listen to what +people are saying," said some of the mob pointing to the tall youth. + +By the wall of China-Town a smaller group of people were gathered +round a man in a frieze coat who held a paper in his hand. + +"An ukase, they are reading an ukase! Reading an ukase!" cried +voices in the crowd, and the people rushed toward the reader. + +The man in the frieze coat was reading the broadsheet of August 31 +When the crowd collected round him he seemed confused, but at the +demand of the tall lad who had pushed his way up to him, he began in a +rather tremulous voice to read the sheet from the beginning. + +"Early tomorrow I shall go to his Serene Highness," he read +("Sirin Highness," said the tall fellow with a triumphant smile on his +lips and a frown on his brow), "to consult with him to act, and to aid +the army to exterminate these scoundrels. We too will take part..." +the reader went on, and then paused ("Do you see," shouted the youth +victoriously, "he's going to clear up the whole affair for +you...."), "in destroying them, and will send these visitors to the +devil. I will come back to dinner, and we'll set to work. We will +do, completely do, and undo these scoundrels." + +The last words were read out in the midst of complete silence. The +tall lad hung his head gloomily. It was evident that no one had +understood the last part. In particular, the words "I will come back +to dinner," evidently displeased both reader and audience. The +people's minds were tuned to a high pitch and this was too simple +and needlessly comprehensible- it was what any one of them might +have said and therefore was what an ukase emanating from the highest +authority should not say. + +They all stood despondent and silent. The tall youth moved his +lips and swayed from side to side. + +"We should ask him... that's he himself?"... "Yes, ask him +indeed!... Why not? He'll explain"... voices in the rear of the +crowd were suddenly heard saying, and the general attention turned +to the police superintendent's trap which drove into the square +attended by two mounted dragoons. + +The superintendent of police, who had that morning by Count +Rostopchin's orders to burn the barges and had in connection with that +matter acquired a large sum of money which was at that moment in his +pocket, on seeing a crowd bearing down upon him told his coachman to +stop. + +"What people are these?" he shouted to the men, who were moving +singly and timidly in the direction of his trap. + +"What people are these?" he shouted again, receiving no answer. + +"Your honor..." replied the shopman in the frieze coat, "your honor, +in accord with the proclamation of his highest excellency the count, +they desire to serve, not sparing their lives, and it is not any +kind of riot, but as his highest excellence said..." + +"The count has not left, he is here, and an order will be issued +concerning you," said the superintendent of police. "Go on!" he +ordered his coachman. + +The crowd halted, pressing around those who had heard what the +superintendent had said, and looking at the departing trap. + +The superintendent of police turned round at that moment with a +scared look, said something to his coachman, and his horses +increased their speed. + +"It's a fraud, lads! Lead the way to him, himself!" shouted the tall +youth. "Don't let him go, lads! Let him answer us! Keep him!" +shouted different people and the people dashed in pursuit of the trap. + +Following the superintendent of police and talking loudly the +crowd went in the direction of the Lubyanka Street. + +"There now, the gentry and merchants have gone away and left us to +perish. Do they think we're dogs?" voices in the crowd were heard +saying more and more frequently. + +CHAPTER XXIV + +On the evening of the first of September, after his interview with +Kutuzov, Count Rostopchin had returned to Moscow mortified and +offended because he had not been invited to attend the council of war, +and because Kutuzov had paid no attention to his offer to take part in +the defense of the city; amazed also at the novel outlook revealed +to him at the camp, which treated the tranquillity of the capital +and its patriotic fervor as not merely secondary but quite +irrelevant and unimportant matters. Distressed, offended, and +surprised by all this, Rostopchin had returned to Moscow. After supper +he lay down on a sofa without undressing, and was awakened soon +after midnight by a courier bringing him a letter from Kutuzov. This +letter requested the count to send police officers to guide the troops +through the town, as the army was retreating to the Ryazan road beyond +Moscow. This was not news to Rostopchin. He had known that Moscow +would be abandoned not merely since his interview the previous day +with Kutuzov on the Poklonny Hill but ever since the battle of +Borodino, for all the generals who came to Moscow after that battle +had said unanimously that it was impossible to fight another battle, +and since then the government property had been removed every night, +and half the inhabitants had left the city with Rostopchin's own +permission. Yet all the same this information astonished and irritated +the count, coming as it did in the form of a simple note with an order +from Kutuzov, and received at night, breaking in on his beauty sleep. + +When later on in his memoirs Count Rostopchin explained his +actions at this time, he repeatedly says that he was then actuated +by two important considerations: to maintain tranquillity in Moscow +and expedite the departure of the inhabitants. If one accepts this +twofold aim all Rostopchin's actions appear irreproachable. "Why +were the holy relics, the arms, ammunition, gunpowder, and stores of +corn not removed? Why were thousands of inhabitants deceived into +believing that Moscow would not be given up- and thereby ruined?" +"To presence the tranquillity of the city," explains Count Rostopchin. +"Why were bundles of useless papers from the government offices, and +Leppich's balloon and other articles removed?" "To leave the town +empty," explains Count Rostopchin. One need only admit that public +tranquillity is in danger and any action finds a justification. + +All the horrors of the reign of terror were based only on solicitude +for public tranquillity. + +On what, then, was Count Rostopchin's fear for the tranquillity of +Moscow based in 1812? What reason was there for assuming any +probability of an uprising in the city? The inhabitants were leaving +it and the retreating troops were filling it. Why should that cause +the masses to riot? + +Neither in Moscow nor anywhere in Russia did anything resembling +an insurrection ever occur when the enemy entered a town. More than +ten thousand people were still in Moscow on the first and second of +September, and except for a mob in the governor's courtyard, assembled +there at his bidding, nothing happened. It is obvious that there would +have been even less reason to expect a disturbance among the people if +after the battle of Borodino, when the surrender of Moscow became +certain or at least probable, Rostopchin instead of exciting the +people by distributing arms and broadsheets had taken steps to +remove all the holy relics, the gunpowder, munitions, and money, and +had told the population plainly that the town would be abandoned. + +Rostopchin, though he had patriotic sentiments, was a sanguine and +impulsive man who had always moved in the highest administrative +circles and had no understanding at all of the people he supposed +himself to be guiding. Ever since the enemy's entry into Smolensk he +had in imagination been playing the role of director of the popular +feeling of "the heart of Russia." Not only did it seem to him (as to +all administrators) that he controlled the external actions of +Moscow's inhabitants, but he also thought he controlled their mental +attitude by means of his broadsheets and posters, written in a +coarse tone which the people despise in their own class and do not +understand from those in authority. Rostopchin was so pleased with the +fine role of leader of popular feeling, and had grown so used to it, +that the necessity of relinquishing that role and abandoning Moscow +without any heroic display took him unawares and he suddenly felt +the ground slip away from under his feet, so that he positively did +not know what to do. Though he knew it was coming, he did not till the +last moment wholeheartedly believe that Moscow would be abandoned, and +did not prepare for it. The inhabitants left against his wishes. If +the government offices were removed, this was only done on the +demand of officials to whom the count yielded reluctantly. He was +absorbed in the role he had created for himself. As is often the +case with those gifted with an ardent imagination, though he had +long known that Moscow would be abandoned he knew it only with his +intellect, he did not believe it in his heart and did not adapt +himself mentally to this new position of affairs. + +All his painstaking and energetic activity (in how far it was useful +and had any effect on the people is another question) had been +simply directed toward arousing in the masses his own feeling of +patriotic hatred of the French. + +But when events assumed their true historical character, when +expressing hatred for the French in words proved insufficient, when it +was not even possible to express that hatred by fighting a battle, +when self-confidence was of no avail in relation to the one question +before Moscow, when the whole population streamed out of Moscow as one +man, abandoning their belongings and proving by that negative action +all the depth of their national feeling, then the role chosen by +Rostopchin suddenly appeared senseless. He unexpectedly felt himself +ridiculous, weak, and alone, with no ground to stand on. + +When, awakened from his sleep, he received that cold, peremptory +note from Kutuzov, he felt the more irritated the more he felt himself +to blame. All that he had been specially put in charge of, the state +property which he should have removed, was still in Moscow and it +was no longer possible to take the whole of it away. + +"Who is to blame for it? Who has let things come to such a pass?" he +ruminated. "Not I, of course. I had everything ready. I had Moscow +firmly in hand. And this is what they have let it come to! Villains! +Traitors!" he thought, without clearly defining who the villains and +traitors were, but feeling it necessary to hate those traitors whoever +they might be who were to blame for the false and ridiculous +position in which he found himself. + +All that night Count Rostopchin issued orders, for which people came +to him from all parts of Moscow. Those about him had never seen the +count so morose and irritable. + +"Your excellency, the Director of the Registrar's Department has +sent for instructions... From the Consistory, from the Senate, from +the University, from the Foundling Hospital, the Suffragan has sent... +asking for information.... What are your orders about the Fire +Brigade? From the governor of the prison... from the superintendent of +the lunatic asylum..." All night long such announcements were +continually being received by the count. + +To all these inquiries he gave brief and angry replies indicating +that orders from him were not now needed, that the whole affair, +carefully prepared by him, had now been ruined by somebody, and that +that somebody would have to bear the whole responsibility for all that +might happen. + +"Oh, tell that blockhead," he said in reply to the question from the +Registrar's Department, "that he should remain to guard his documents. +Now why are you asking silly questions about the Fire Brigade? They +have horses, let them be off to Vladimir, and not leave them to the +French." + +"Your excellency, the superintendent of the lunatic asylum has come: +what are your commands?" + +"My commands? Let them go away, that's all.... And let the +lunatics out into the town. When lunatics command our armies God +evidently means these other madmen to be free." + +In reply to an inquiry about the convicts in the prison, Count +Rostopchin shouted angrily at the governor: + +"Do you expect me to give you two battalions- which we have not got- +for a convoy? Release them, that's all about it!" + +"Your excellency, there are some political prisoners, Meshkov, +Vereshchagin..." + +"Vereshchagin! Hasn't he been hanged yet?" shouted Rostopchin. +"Bring him to me!" + +CHAPTER XXV + +Toward nine o'clock in the morning, when the troops were already +moving through Moscow, nobody came to the count any more for +instructions. Those who were able to get away were going of their +own accord, those who remained behind decided for themselves what they +must do. + +The count ordered his carriage that he might drive to Sokolniki, and +sat in his study with folded hands, morose, sallow, and taciturn. + +In quiet and untroubled times it seems to every administrator that +it is only by his efforts that the whole population under his rule +is kept going, and in this consciousness of being indispensable +every administrator finds the chief reward of his labor and efforts. +While the sea of history remains calm the ruler-administrator in his +frail bark, holding on with a boat hook to the ship of the people +and himself moving, naturally imagines that his efforts move the +ship he is holding on to. But as soon as a storm arises and the sea +begins to heave and the ship to move, such a delusion is no longer +possible. The ship moves independently with its own enormous motion, +the boat hook no longer reaches the moving vessel, and suddenly the +administrator, instead of appearing a ruler and a source of power, +becomes an insignificant, useless, feeble man. + +Rostopchin felt this, and it was this which exasperated him. + +The superintendent of police, whom the crowd had stopped, went in to +see him at the same time as an adjutant who informed the count that +the horses were harnessed. They were both pale, and the superintendent +of police, after reporting that he had executed the instructions he +had received, informed the count that an immense crowd had collected +in the courtyard and wished to see him. + +Without saying a word Rostopchin rose and walked hastily to his +light, luxurious drawing room, went to the balcony door, took hold +of the handle, let it go again, and went to the window from which he +had a better view of the whole crowd. The tall lad was standing in +front, flourishing his arm and saying something with a stern look. The +blood stained smith stood beside him with a gloomy face. A drone of +voices was audible through the closed window. + +"Is my carriage ready?" asked Rostopchin, stepping back from the +window. + +"It is, your excellency," replied the adjutant. + +Rostopchin went again to the balcony door. + +"But what do they want?" he asked the superintendent of police. + +"Your excellency, they say they have got ready, according to your +orders, to go against the French, and they shouted something about +treachery. But it is a turbulent crowd, your excellency- I hardly +managed to get away from it. Your excellency, I venture to suggest..." + +"You may go. I don't need you to tell me what to do!" exclaimed +Rostopchin angrily. + +He stood by the balcony door looking at the crowd. + +"This is what they have done with Russia! This is what they have +done with me!" thought he, full of an irrepressible fury that welled +up within him against the someone to whom what was happening might +be attributed. As often happens with passionate people, he was +mastered by anger but was still seeking an object on which to vent it. +"Here is that mob, the dregs of the people," he thought as he gazed at +the crowd: "this rabble they have roused by their folly! They want a +victim," he thought as he looked at the tall lad flourishing his +arm. And this thought occurred to him just because he himself +desired a victim, something on which to vent his rage. + +"Is the carriage ready?" he asked again. + +"Yes, your excellency. What are your orders about Vereshchagin? He +is waiting at the porch," said the adjutant. + +"Ah!" exclaimed Rostopchin, as if struck by an unexpected +recollection. + +And rapidly opening the door he went resolutely out onto the +balcony. The talking instantly ceased, hats and caps were doffed, +and all eyes were raised to the count. + +"Good morning, lads!" said the count briskly and loudly. "Thank +you for coming. I'll come out to you in a moment, but we must first +settle with the villain. We must punish the villain who has caused the +ruin of Moscow. Wait for me!" + +And the count stepped as briskly back into the room and slammed +the door behind him. + +A murmur of approbation and satisfaction ran through the crowd. +"He'll settle with all the villains, you'll see! And you said the +French... He'll show you what law is!" the mob were saying as if +reproving one another for their lack of confidence. + +A few minutes later an officer came hurriedly out of the front door, +gave an order, and the dragoons formed up in line. The crowd moved +eagerly from the balcony toward the porch. Rostopchin, coming out +there with quick angry steps, looked hastily around as if seeking +someone. + +"Where is he?" he inquired. And as he spoke he saw a young man +coming round the corner of the house between two dragoons. He had a +long thin neck, and his head, that had been half shaved, was again +covered by short hair. This young man was dressed in a threadbare blue +cloth coat lined with fox fur, that had once been smart, and dirty +hempen convict trousers, over which were pulled his thin, dirty, +trodden-down boots. On his thin, weak legs were heavy chains which +hampered his irresolute movements. + +"Ah!" said Rostopchin, hurriedly turning away his eyes from the +young man in the fur-lined coat and pointing to the bottom step of the +porch. "Put him there." + +The young man in his clattering chains stepped clumsily to the +spot indicated, holding away with one finger the coat collar which +chafed his neck, turned his long neck twice this way and that, sighed, +and submissively folded before him his thin hands, unused to work. + +For several seconds while the young man was taking his place on +the step the silence continued. Only among the back rows of the +people, who were all pressing toward the one spot, could sighs, +groans, and the shuffling of feet be heard. + +While waiting for the young man to take his place on the step +Rostopchin stood frowning and rubbing his face with his hand. + +"Lads!" said he, with a metallic ring in his voice. "This man, +Vereshchagin, is the scoundrel by whose doing Moscow is perishing." + +The young man in the fur-lined coat, stooping a little, stood in a +submissive attitude, his fingers clasped before him. His emaciated +young face, disfigured by the half-shaven head, hung down +hopelessly. At the count's first words he raised it slowly and +looked up at him as if wishing to say something or at least to meet +his eye. But Rostopchin did not look at him. A vein in the young man's +long thin neck swelled like a cord and went blue behind the ear, and +suddenly his face flushed. + +All eyes were fixed on him. He looked at the crowd, and rendered +more hopeful by the expression he read on the faces there, he smiled +sadly and timidly, and lowering his head shifted his feet on the step. + +"He has betrayed his Tsar and his country, he had gone over to +Bonaparte. He alone of all the Russians has disgraced the Russian +name, he has caused Moscow to perish," said Rostopchin in a sharp, +even voice, but suddenly he glanced down at Vereshchagin who continued +to stand in the same submissive attitude. As if inflamed by the sight, +he raised his arm and addressed the people, almost shouting: + +"Deal with him as you think fit! I hand him over to you." + +The crowd remained silent and only pressed closer and closer to +one another. To keep one another back, to breathe in that stifling +atmosphere, to be unable to stir, and to await something unknown, +uncomprehended, and terrible, was becoming unbearable. Those +standing in front, who had seen and heard what had taken place +before them, all stood with wide open eyes and mouths, straining +with all their strength, and held back the crowd that was pushing +behind them. + +"Beat him!... Let the traitor perish and not disgrace the Russian +name!" shouted Rostopchin. "Cut him down. I command it." + +Hearing not so much the words as the angry tone of Rostopchin's +voice, the crowd moaned and heaved forward, but again paused. + +"Count!" exclaimed the timid yet theatrical voice of Vereshchagin in +the midst of the momentary silence that ensued, "Count! One God is +above us both...." He lifted his head and again the thick vein in +his thin neck filled with blood and the color rapidly came and went in +his face. + +He did not finish what he wished to say. + +"Cut him down! I command it..." shouted Rostopchin, suddenly growing +pale like Vereshchagin. + +"Draw sabers!" cried the dragoon officer, drawing his own. + +Another still stronger wave flowed through the crowd and reaching +the front ranks carried it swaying to the very steps of the porch. The +tall youth, with a stony look on his face, and rigid and uplifted arm, +stood beside Vereshchagin. + +"Saber him!" the dragoon officer almost whispered. + +And one of the soldiers, his face all at once distorted with fury, +struck Vereshchagin on the head with the blunt side of his saber. + +"Ah!" cried Vereshchagin in meek surprise, looking round with a +frightened glance as if not understanding why this was done to him. +A similar moan of surprise and horror ran through the crowd. "O Lord!" +exclaimed a sorrowful voice. + +But after the exclamation of surprise that had escaped from +Vereshchagin he uttered a plaintive cry of pain, and that cry was +fatal. The barrier of human feeling, strained to the utmost, that +had held the crowd in check suddenly broke. The crime had begun and +must now be completed. The plaintive moan of reproach was drowned by +the threatening and angry roar of the crowd. Like the seventh and last +wave that shatters a ship, that last irresistible wave burst from +the rear and reached the front ranks, carrying them off their feet and +engulfing them all. The dragoon was about to repeat his blow. +Vereshchagin with a cry of horror, covering his head with his hands, +rushed toward the crowd. The tall youth, against whom he stumbled, +seized his thin neck with his hands and, yelling wildly, fell with him +under the feet of the pressing, struggling crowd. + +Some beat and tore at Vereshchagin, others at the tall youth. And +the screams of those that were being trampled on and of those who +tried to rescue the tall lad only increased the fury of the crowd. +It was a long time before the dragoons could extricate the bleeding +youth, beaten almost to death. And for a long time, despite the +feverish haste with which the mob tried to end the work that had +been begun, those who were hitting, throttling, and tearing at +Vereshchagin were unable to kill him, for the crowd pressed from all +sides, swaying as one mass with them in the center and rendering it +impossible for them either to kill him or let him go. + +"Hit him with an ax, eh!... Crushed?... Traitor, he sold +Christ.... Still alive... tenacious... serves him right! Torture +serves a thief right. Use the hatchet!... What- still alive?" + +Only when the victim ceased to struggle and his cries changed to a +long-drawn, measured death rattle did the crowd around his +prostrate, bleeding corpse begin rapidly to change places. Each one +came up, glanced at what had been done, and with horror, reproach, and +astonishment pushed back again. + +"O Lord! The people are like wild beasts! How could he be alive?" +voices in the crowd could be heard saying. "Quite a young fellow +too... must have been a merchant's son. What men!... and they say he's +not the right one.... How not the right one?... O Lord! And there's +another has been beaten too- they say he's nearly done for.... Oh, the +people... Aren't they afraid of sinning?..." said the same mob now, +looking with pained distress at the dead body with its long, thin, +half-severed neck and its livid face stained with blood and dust. + +A painstaking police officer, considering the presence of a corpse +in his excellency's courtyard unseemly, told the dragoons to take it +away. Two dragoons took it by its distorted legs and dragged it +along the ground. The gory, dust-stained, half-shaven head with its +long neck trailed twisting along the ground. The crowd shrank back +from it. + +At the moment when Vereshchagin fell and the crowd closed in with +savage yells and swayed about him, Rostopchin suddenly turned pale +and, instead of going to the back entrance where his carriage +awaited him, went with hurried steps and bent head, not knowing +where and why, along the passage leading to the rooms on the ground +floor. The count's face was white and he could not control the +feverish twitching of his lower jaw. + +"This way, your excellency... Where are you going?... This way, +please..." said a trembling, frightened voice behind him. + +Count Rostopchin was unable to reply and, turning obediently, went +in the direction indicated. At the back entrance stood his caleche. +The distant roar of the yelling crowd was audible even there. He +hastily took his seat and told the coachman to drive him to his +country house in Sokolniki. + +When they reached the Myasnitski Street and could no longer hear the +shouts of the mob, the count began to repent. He remembered with +dissatisfaction the agitation and fear he had betrayed before his +subordinates. "The mob is terrible- disgusting," he said to himself in +French. "They are like wolves whom nothing but flesh can appease." +"Count! One God is above us both!"- Vereshchagin's words suddenly +recurred to him, and a disagreeable shiver ran down his back. But this +was only a momentary feeling and Count Rostopchin smiled +disdainfully at himself. "I had other duties," thought he. "The people +had to be appeased. Many other victims have perished and are perishing +for the public good"- and he began thinking of his social duties to +his family and to the city entrusted to him, and of himself- not +himself as Theodore Vasilyevich Rostopchin (he fancied that Theodore +Vasilyevich Rostopchin was sacrificing himself for the public good) +but himself as governor, the representative of authority and of the +Tsar. "Had I been simply Theodore Vasilyevich my course of action +would have been quite different, but it was my duty to safeguard my +life and dignity as commander in chief." + +Lightly swaying on the flexible springs of his carriage and no +longer hearing the terrible sounds of the crowd, Rostopchin grew +physically calm and, as always happens, as soon as he became +physically tranquil his mind devised reasons why he should be mentally +tranquil too. The thought which tranquillized Rostopchin was not a new +one. Since the world began and men have killed one another no one +has ever committed such a crime against his fellow man without +comforting himself with this same idea. This idea is le bien public, +the hypothetical welfare of other people. + +To a man not swayed by passion that welfare is never certain, but he +who commits such a crime always knows just where that welfare lies. +And Rostopchin now knew it. + +Not only did his reason not reproach him for what he had done, but +he even found cause for self-satisfaction in having so successfully +contrived to avail himself of a convenient opportunity to punish a +criminal and at the same time pacify the mob. + +"Vereshchagin was tried and condemned to death," thought +Rostopchin (though the Senate had only condemned Vereshchagin to +hard labor), "he was a traitor and a spy. I could not let him go +unpunished and so I have killed two birds with one stone: to appease +the mob I gave them a victim and at the same time punished a +miscreant." + +Having reached his country house and begun to give orders about +domestic arrangements, the count grew quite tranquil. + +Half an hour later he was driving with his fast horses across the +Sokolniki field, no longer thinking of what had occurred but +considering what was to come. He was driving to the Yauza bridge where +he had heard that Kutuzov was. Count Rostopchin was mentally preparing +the angry and stinging reproaches he meant to address to Kutuzov for +his deception. He would make that foxy old courtier feel that the +responsibility for all the calamities that would follow the +abandonment of the city and the ruin of Russia (as Rostopchin regarded +it) would fall upon his doting old head. Planning beforehand what he +would say to Kutuzov, Rostopchin turned angrily in his caleche and +gazed sternly from side to side. + +The Sokolniki field was deserted. Only at the end of it, in front of +the almshouse and the lunatic asylum, could be seen some people in +white and others like them walking singly across the field shouting +and gesticulating. + +One of these was running to cross the path of Count Rostopchin's +carriage, and the count himself, his coachman, and his dragoons looked +with vague horror and curiosity at these released lunatics and +especially at the one running toward them. + +Swaying from side to side on his long, thin legs in his fluttering +dressing gown, this lunatic was running impetuously, his gaze fixed on +Rostopchin, shouting something in a hoarse voice and making signs to +him to stop. The lunatic's solemn, gloomy face was thin and yellow, +with its beard growing in uneven tufts. His black, agate pupils with +saffron-yellow whites moved restlessly near the lower eyelids. + +"Stop! Pull up, I tell you!" he cried in a piercing voice, and again +shouted something breathlessly with emphatic intonations and gestures. + +Coming abreast of the caleche he ran beside it. + +"Thrice have they slain me, thrice have I risen from the dead. +They stoned me, crucified me... I shall rise... shall rise... shall +rise. They have torn my body. The kingdom of God will be overthrown... +Thrice will I overthrow it and thrice re-establish it!" he cried, +raising his voice higher and higher. + +Count Rostopchin suddenly grew pale as he had done when the crowd +closed in on Vereshchagin. He turned away. "Go fas... faster!" he +cried in a trembling voice to his coachman. The caleche flew over +the ground as fast as the horses could draw it, but for a long time +Count Rostopchin still heard the insane despairing screams growing +fainter in the distance, while his eyes saw nothing but the +astonished, frightened, bloodstained face of "the traitor" in the +fur-lined coat. + +Recent as that mental picture was, Rostopchin already felt that it +had cut deep into his heart and drawn blood. Even now he felt +clearly that the gory trace of that recollection would not pass with +time, but that the terrible memory would, on the contrary, dwell in +his heart ever more cruelly and painfully to the end of his life. He +seemed still to hear the sound of his own words: "Cut him down! I +command it...." + +"Why did I utter those words? It was by some accident I said +them.... I need not have said them," he thought. "And then nothing +would have happened." He saw the frightened and then infuriated face +of the dragoon who dealt the blow, the look of silent, timid +reproach that boy in the fur-lined coat had turned upon him. "But I +did not do it for my own sake. I was bound to act that way.... The +mob, the traitor... the public welfare," thought he. + +Troops were still crowding at the Yauza bridge. It was hot. Kutuzov, +dejected and frowning, sat on a bench by the bridge toying with his +whip in the sand when a caleche dashed up noisily. A man in a +general's uniform with plumes in his hat went up to Kutuzov and said +something in French. It was Count Rostopchin. He told Kutuzov that +he had come because Moscow, the capital, was no more and only the army +remained. + +"Things would have been different if your Serene Highness had not +told me that you would not abandon Moscow without another battle; +all this would not have happened," he said. + +Kutuzov looked at Rostopchin as if, not grasping what was said to +him, he was trying to read something peculiar written at that moment +on the face of the man addressing him. Rostopchin grew confused and +became silent. Kutuzov slightly shook his head and not taking his +penetrating gaze from Rostopchin's face muttered softly: + +"No! I shall not give up Moscow without a battle!" + +Whether Kutuzov was thinking of something entirely different when he +spoke those words, or uttered them purposely, knowing them to be +meaningless, at any rate Rostopchin made no reply and hastily left +him. And strange to say, the Governor of Moscow, the proud Count +Rostopchin, took up a Cossack whip and went to the bridge where he +began with shouts to drive on the carts that blocked the way. + +CHAPTER XXVI + +Toward four o'clock in the afternoon Murat's troops were entering +Moscow. In front rode a detachment of Wurttemberg hussars and behind +them rode the King of Naples himself accompanied by a numerous suite. + +About the middle of the Arbat Street, near the Church of the +Miraculous Icon of St. Nicholas, Murat halted to await news from the +advanced detachment as to the condition in which they had found the +citadel, le Kremlin. + +Around Murat gathered a group of those who had remained in Moscow. +They all stared in timid bewilderment at the strange, long-haired +commander dressed up in feathers and gold. + +"Is that their Tsar himself? He's not bad!" low voices could be +heard saying. + +An interpreter rode up to the group. + +"Take off your cap... your caps!" These words went from one to +another in the crowd. The interpreter addressed an old porter and +asked if it was far to the Kremlin. The porter, listening in +perplexity to the unfamiliar Polish accent and not realizing that +the interpreter was speaking Russian, did not understand what was +being said to him and slipped behind the others. + +Murat approached the interpreter and told him to ask where the +Russian army was. One of the Russians understood what was asked and +several voices at once began answering the interpreter. A French +officer, returning from the advanced detachment, rode up to Murat +and reported that the gates of the citadel had been barricaded and +that there was probably an ambuscade there. + +"Good!" said Murat and, turning to one of the gentlemen in his +suite, ordered four light guns to be moved forward to fire at the +gates. + +The guns emerged at a trot from the column following Murat and +advanced up the Arbat. When they reached the end of the Vozdvizhenka +Street they halted and drew in the Square. Several French officers +superintended the placing of the guns and looked at the Kremlin +through field glasses. + +The bells in the Kremlin were ringing for vespers, and this sound +troubled the French. They imagined it to be a call to arms. A few +infantrymen ran to the Kutafyev Gate. Beams and wooden screens had +been put there, and two musket shots rang out from under the gate as +soon as an officer and men began to run toward it. A general who was +standing by the guns shouted some words of command to the officer, and +the latter ran back again with his men. + +The sound of three more shots came from the gate. + +One shot struck a French soldier's foot, and from behind the screens +came the strange sound of a few voices shouting. Instantly as at a +word of command the expression of cheerful serenity on the faces of +the French general, officers, and men changed to one of determined +concentrated readiness for strife and suffering. To all of them from +the marshal to the least soldier, that place was not the Vozdvizhenka, +Mokhavaya, or Kutafyev Street, nor the Troitsa Gate (places familiar +in Moscow), but a new battlefield which would probably prove +sanguinary. And all made ready for that battle. The cries from the +gates ceased. The guns were advanced, the artillerymen blew the ash +off their linstocks, and an officer gave the word "Fire!" This was +followed by two whistling sounds of canister shot, one after +another. The shot rattled against the stone of the gate and upon the +wooden beams and screens, and two wavering clouds of smoke rose over +the Square. + +A few instants after the echo of the reports resounding over the +stone-built Kremlin had died away the French heard a strange sound +above their head. Thousands of crows rose above the walls and +circled in the air, cawing and noisily flapping their wings. +Together with that sound came a solitary human cry from the gateway +and amid the smoke appeared the figure of a bareheaded man in a +peasant's coat. He grasped a musket and took aim at the French. +"Fire!" repeated the officer once more, and the reports of a musket +and of two cannon shots were heard simultaneously. The gate again +hidden by smoke. + +Nothing more stirred behind the screens and the French infantry +soldiers and officers advanced to the gate. In the gateway lay three +wounded and four dead. Two men in peasant coats ran away at the foot +of the wall, toward the Znamenka. + +"Clear that away!" said the officer, pointing to the beams and the +corpses, and the French soldiers, after dispatching the wounded, threw +the corpses over the parapet. + +Who these men were nobody knew. "Clear that away!" was all that +was said of them, and they were thrown over the parapet and removed +later on that they might not stink. Thiers alone dedicates a few +eloquent lines to their memory: "These wretches had occupied the +sacred citadel, having supplied themselves with guns from the arsenal, +and fired" (the wretches) "at the French. Some of them were sabered +and the Kremlin was purged of their presence." + +Murat was informed that the way had been cleared. The French entered +the gates and began pitching their camp in the Senate Square. Out of +the windows of the Senate House the soldiers threw chairs into the +Square for fuel and kindled fires there. + +Other detachments passed through the Kremlin and encamped along +the Moroseyka, the Lubyanka, and Pokrovka Streets. Others quartered +themselves along the Vozdvizhenka, the Nikolski, and the Tverskoy +Streets. No masters of the houses being found anywhere, the French +were not billeted on the inhabitants as is usual in towns but lived in +it as in a camp. + +Though tattered, hungry, worn out, and reduced to a third of their +original number, the French entered Moscow in good marching order. +It was a weary and famished, but still a fighting and menacing army. +But it remained an army only until its soldiers had dispersed into +their different lodgings. As soon as the men of the various +regiments began to disperse among the wealthy and deserted houses, the +army was lost forever and there came into being something nondescript, +neither citizens nor soldiers but what are known as marauders. When +five weeks later these same men left Moscow, they no longer formed +an army. They were a mob of marauders, each carrying a quantity of +articles which seemed to him valuable or useful. The aim of each man +when he left Moscow was no longer, as it had been, to conquer, but +merely to keep what he had acquired. Like a monkey which puts its +paw into the narrow neck of a jug, and having seized a handful of nuts +will not open its fist for fear of losing what it holds, and therefore +perishes, the French when they left Moscow had inevitably to perish +because they carried their loot with them, yet to abandon what they +had stolen was as impossible for them as it is for the monkey to +open its paw and let go of its nuts. Ten minutes after each regiment +had entered a Moscow district, not a soldier or officer was left. +Men in military uniforms and Hessian boots could be seen through the +windows, laughing and walking through the rooms. In cellars and +storerooms similar men were busy among the provisions, and in the +yards unlocking or breaking open coach house and stable doors, +lighting fires in kitchens and kneading and baking bread with +rolled-up sleeves, and cooking; or frightening, amusing, or +caressing women and children. There were many such men both in the +shops and houses- but there was no army. + +Order after order was issued by the French commanders that day +forbidding the men to disperse about the town, sternly forbidding +any violence to the inhabitants or any looting, and announcing a +roll call for that very evening. But despite all these measures the +men, who had till then constituted an army, flowed all over the +wealthy, deserted city with its comforts and plentiful supplies. As +a hungry herd of cattle keeps well together when crossing a barren +field, but gets out of hand and at once disperses uncontrollably as +soon as it reaches rich pastures, so did the army disperse all over +the wealthy city. + +No residents were left in Moscow, and the soldiers- like water +percolating through sand- spread irresistibly through the city in +all directions from the Kremlin into which they had first marched. The +cavalry, on entering a merchant's house that had been abandoned and +finding there stabling more than sufficient for their horses, went on, +all the same, to the next house which seemed to them better. Many of +them appropriated several houses, chalked their names on them, and +quarreled and even fought with other companies for them. Before they +had had time to secure quarters the soldiers ran out into the +streets to see the city and, hearing that everything had been +abandoned, rushed to places where valuables were to be had for the +taking. The officers followed to check the soldiers and were +involuntarily drawn into doing the same. In Carriage Row carriages had +been left in the shops, and generals flocked there to select +caleches and coaches for themselves. The few inhabitants who had +remained invited commanding officers to their houses, hoping thereby +to secure themselves from being plundered. There were masses of wealth +and there seemed no end to it. All around the quarters occupied by the +French were other regions still unexplored and unoccupied where, +they thought, yet greater riches might be found. And Moscow engulfed +the army ever deeper and deeper. When water is spilled on dry ground +both the dry ground and the water disappear and mud results; and in +the same way the entry of the famished army into the rich and deserted +city resulted in fires and looting and the destruction of both the +army and the wealthy city. + +The French attributed the Fire of Moscow au patriotisme feroce de +Rostopchine,~^ the Russians to the barbarity of the French. In reality, +however, it was not, and could not be, possible to explain the burning +of Moscow by making any individual, or any group of people, +responsible for it. Moscow was burned because it found itself in a +position in which any town built of wood was bound to burn, quite +apart from whether it had, or had not, a hundred and thirty inferior +fire engines. Deserted Moscow had to burn as inevitably as a heap of +shavings has to burn on which sparks continually fall for several +days. A town built of wood, where scarcely a day passes without +conflagrations when the house owners are in residence and a police +force is present, cannot help burning when its inhabitants have left +it and it is occupied by soldiers who smoke pipes, make campfires of +the Senate chairs in the Senate Square, and cook themselves meals +twice a day. In peacetime it is only necessary to billet troops in the +villages of any district and the number of fires in that district +immediately increases. How much then must the probability of fire be +increased in an abandoned, wooden town where foreign troops are +quartered. "Le patriotisme feroce de Rostopchine" and the barbarity of +the French were not to blame in the matter. Moscow was set on fire +by the soldiers' pipes, kitchens, and campfires, and by the +carelessness of enemy soldiers occupying houses they did not own. Even +if there was any arson (which is very doubtful, for no one had any +reason to burn the houses- in any case a troublesome and dangerous +thing to do), arson cannot be regarded as the cause, for the same +thing would have happened without any incendiarism. + +^~ To Rostopchin's ferocious patriotism. + +However tempting it might be for the French to blame Rostopchin's +ferocity and for Russians to blame the scoundrel Bonaparte, or later +on to place an heroic torch in the hands of their own people, it is +impossible not to see that there could be no such direct cause of +the fire, for Moscow had to burn as every village, factory, or house +must burn which is left by its owners and in which strangers are +allowed to live and cook their porridge. Moscow was burned by its +inhabitants, it is true, but by those who had abandoned it and not +by those who remained in it. Moscow when occupied by the enemy did not +remain intact like Berlin, Vienna, and other towns, simply because its +inhabitants abandoned it and did not welcome the French with bread and +salt, nor bring them the keys of the city. + +CHAPTER XXVII + +The absorption of the French by Moscow, radiating starwise as it +did, only reached the quarter where Pierre was staying by the +evening of the second of September. + +After the last two days spent in solitude and unusual circumstances, +Pierre was in a state bordering on insanity. He was completely +obsessed by one persistent thought. He did not know how or when this +thought had taken such possession of him, but he remembered nothing of +the past, understood nothing of the present, and all he saw and +heard appeared to him like a dream. + +He had left home only to escape the intricate tangle of life's +demands that enmeshed him, and which in his present condition he was +unable to unravel. He had gone to Joseph Alexeevich's house, on the +plea of sorting the deceased's books and papers, only in search of +rest from life's turmoil, for in his mind the memory of Joseph +Alexeevich was connected with a world of eternal, solemn, and calm +thoughts, quite contrary to the restless confusion into which he +felt himself being drawn. He sought a quiet refuge, and in Joseph +Alexeevich's study he really found it. When he sat with his elbows +on the dusty writing table in the deathlike stillness of the study, +calm and significant memories of the last few days rose one after +another in his imagination, particularly of the battle of Borodino and +of that vague sense of his own insignificance and insincerity compared +with the truth, simplicity, and strength of the class of men he +mentally classed as they. When Gerasim roused him from his reverie the +idea occurred to him of taking part in the popular defense of Moscow +which he knew was projected. And with that object he had asked Gerasim +to get him a peasant's coat and a pistol, confiding to him his +intentions of remaining in Joseph Alexeevich's house and keeping his +name secret. Then during the first day spent in inaction and +solitude (he tried several times to fix his attention on the Masonic +manuscripts, but was unable to do so) the idea that had previously +occurred to him of the cabalistic significance of his name in +connection with Bonaparte's more than once vaguely presented itself. +But the idea that he, L'russe Besuhof, was destined to set a limit +to the power of the Beast was as yet only one of the fancies that +often passed through his mind and left no trace behind. + +When, having bought the coat merely with the object of taking part +among the people in the defense of Moscow, Pierre had met the +Rostovs and Natasha had said to him: "Are you remaining in +Moscow?... How splendid!" the thought flashed into his mind that it +really would be a good thing, even if Moscow were taken, for him to +remain there and do what he was predestined to do. + +Next day, with the sole idea of not sparing himself and not +lagging in any way behind them, Pierre went to the Three Hills gate. +But when he returned to the house convinced that Moscow would not be +defended, he suddenly felt that what before had seemed to him merely a +possibility had now become absolutely necessary and inevitable. He +must remain in Moscow, concealing his name, and must meet Napoleon and +kill him, and either perish or put an end to the misery of all Europe- +which it seemed to him was solely due to Napoleon. + +Pierre knew all the details of the attempt on Bonaparte's life in +1809 by a German student in Vienna, and knew that the student had been +shot. And the risk to which he would expose his life by carrying out +his design excited him still more. + +Two equally strong feelings drew Pierre irresistibly to this +purpose. The first was a feeling of the necessity of sacrifice and +suffering in view of the common calamity, the same feeling that had + +caused him to go to Mozhaysk on the twenty-fifth and to make his way +to the very thick of the battle and had now caused him to run away +from his home and, in place of the luxury and comfort to which he +was accustomed, to sleep on a hard sofa without undressing and eat the +same food as Gerasim. The other was that vague and quite Russian +feeling of contempt for everything conventional, artificial, and +human- for everything the majority of men regard as the greatest +good in the world. Pierre had first experienced this strange and +fascinating feeling at the Sloboda Palace, when he had suddenly felt +that wealth, power, and life- all that men so painstakingly acquire +and guard- if it has any worth has so only by reason the joy with +which it can all be renounced. + +It was the feeling that induces a volunteer recruit to spend his +last penny on drink, and a drunken man to smash mirrors or glasses for +no apparent reason and knowing that it will cost him all the money +he possesses: the feeling which causes a man to perform actions +which from an ordinary point of view are insane, to test, as it +were, his personal power and strength, affirming the existence of a +higher, nonhuman criterion of life. + +From the very day Pierre had experienced this feeling for the +first time at the Sloboda Palace he had been continuously under its +influence, but only now found full satisfaction for it. Moreover, at +this moment Pierre was supported in his design and prevented from +renouncing it by what he had already done in that direction. If he +were now to leave Moscow like everyone else, his flight from home, the +peasant coat, the pistol, and his announcement to the Rostovs that +he would remain in Moscow would all become not merely meaningless +but contemptible and ridiculous, and to this Pierre was very +sensitive. + +Pierre's physical condition, as is always the case, corresponded +to his mental state. The unaccustomed coarse food, the vodka he +drank during those days, the absence of wine and cigars, his dirty +unchanged linen, two almost sleepless nights passed on a short sofa +without bedding- all this kept him in a state of excitement +bordering on insanity. + +It was two o'clock in the afternoon. The French had already +entered Moscow. Pierre knew this, but instead of acting he only +thought about his undertaking, going over its minutest details in +his mind. In his fancy he did not clearly picture to himself either +the striking of the blow or the death of Napoleon, but with +extraordinary vividness and melancholy enjoyment imagined his own +destruction and heroic endurance. + +"Yes, alone, for the sake of all, I must do it or perish!" he +thought. "Yes, I will approach... and then suddenly... with pistol +or dagger? But that is all the same! 'It is not I but the hand of +Providence that punishes thee,' I shall say," thought he, imagining +what he would say when killing Napoleon. "Well then, take me and +execute me!" he went on, speaking to himself and bowing his head +with a sad but firm expression. + +While Pierre, standing in the middle of the room, was talking to +himself in this way, the study door opened and on the threshold +appeared the figure of Makar Alexeevich, always so timid before but +now quite transformed. + +His dressing gown was unfastened, his face red and distorted. He was +obviously drunk. On seeing Pierre he grew confused at first, but +noticing embarrassment on Pierre's face immediately grew bold and, +staggering on his thin legs, advanced into the middle of the room. + +"They're frightened," he said confidentially in a hoarse voice. "I +say I won't surrender, I say... Am I not right, sir?" + +He paused and then suddenly seeing the pistol on the table seized it +with unexpected rapidity and ran out into the corridor. + +Gerasim and the porter, who had followed Makar Alexeevich, stopped +him in the vestibule and tried to take the pistol from him. Pierre, +coming out into the corridor, looked with pity and repulsion at the +half-crazy old man. Makar Alexeevich, frowning with exertion, held +on to the pistol and screamed hoarsely, evidently with some heroic +fancy in his head. + +"To arms! Board them! No, you shan't get it," he yelled. + +"That will do, please, that will do. Have the goodness- please, sir, +to let go! Please, sir..." pleaded Gerasim, trying carefully to +steer Makar Alexeevich by the elbows back to the door. + +"Who are you? Bonaparte!..." shouted Makar Alexeevich. + +"That's not right, sir. Come to your room, please, and rest. Allow +me to have the pistol." + +"Be off, thou base slave! Touch me not! See this?" shouted Makar +Alexeevich, brandishing the pistol. "Board them!" + +"Catch hold!" whispered Gerasim to the porter. + +They seized Makar Alexeevich by the arms and dragged him to the +door. + +The vestibule was filled with the discordant sounds of a struggle +and of a tipsy, hoarse voice. + +Suddenly a fresh sound, a piercing feminine scream, reverberated +from the porch and the cook came running into the vestibule. + +"It's them! Gracious heavens! O Lord, four of them, horsemen!" she +cried. + +Gerasim and the porter let Makar Alexeevich go, and in the now +silent corridor the sound of several hands knocking at the front +door could be heard. + +CHAPTER XXVIII + +Pierre, having decided that until he had carried out his design he +would disclose neither his identity nor his knowledge of French, stood +at the half-open door of the corridor, intending to conceal himself as +soon as the French entered. But the French entered and still Pierre +did not retire- an irresistible curiosity kept him there. + +There were two of them. One was an officer- a tall, soldierly, +handsome man- the other evidently a private or an orderly, +sunburned, short, and thin, with sunken cheeks and a dull +expression. The officer walked in front, leaning on a stick and +slightly limping. When he had advanced a few steps he stopped, +having apparently decided that these were good quarters, turned +round to the soldiers standing at the entrance, and in a loud voice of +command ordered them to put up the horses. Having done that, the +officer, lifting his elbow with a smart gesture, stroked his +mustache and lightly touched his hat. + +"Bonjour, la compagnie!"~^ said he gaily, smiling and looking about +him. + +^~ "Good day, everybody!" + +No one gave any reply. + +"Vous etes le bourgeois?"~^ the officer asked Gerasim. + +^~ "Are you the master here?" + +Gerasim gazed at the officer with an alarmed and inquiring look. + +"Quartier, quartier, logement!" said the officer, looking down at +the little man with a condescending and good-natured smile. "Les +francais sont de bons enfants. Que diable! Voyons! Ne nous fachons +pas, mon vieux!"~^ added he, clapping the scared and silent Gerasim +on the shoulder. "Well, does no one speak French in this +establishment?" he asked again in French, looking around and meeting +Pierre's eyes. Pierre moved away from the door. + +^~ "Quarters, quarters, lodgings! The French are good fellows. What +the devil! There, don't let us be cross, old fellow!" + +Again the officer turned to Gerasim and asked him to show him the +rooms in the house. + +"Master, not here- don't understand... me, you..." said Gerasim, +trying to render his words more comprehensible by contorting them. + +Still smiling, the French officer spread out his hands before +Gerasim's nose, intimating that he did not understand him either, +and moved, limping, to the door at which Pierre was standing. Pierre +wished to go away and conceal himself, but at that moment he saw Makar +Alexeevich appearing at the open kitchen door with the pistol in his +hand. With a madman's cunning, Makar Alexeevich eyed the Frenchman, +raised his pistol, and took aim. + +"Board them!" yelled the tipsy man, trying to press the trigger. +Hearing the yell the officer turned round, and at the same moment +Pierre threw himself on the drunkard. Just when Pierre snatched at and +struck up the pistol Makar Alexeevich at last got his fingers on the +trigger, there was a deafening report, and all were enveloped in a +cloud of smoke. The Frenchman turned pale and rushed to the door. + +Forgetting his intention of concealing his knowledge of French, +Pierre, snatching away the pistol and throwing it down, ran up to +the officer and addressed him in French. + +"You are not wounded?" he asked. + +"I think not," answered the Frenchman, feeling himself over. "But +I have had a lucky escape this time," he added, pointing to the +damaged plaster of the wall. "Who is that man?" said he, looking +sternly at Pierre. + +"Oh, I am really in despair at what has occurred," said Pierre +rapidly, quite forgetting the part he had intended to play. "He is +an unfortunate madman who did not know what he was doing." + +The officer went up to Makar Alexeevich and took him by the collar. + +Makar Alexeevich was standing with parted lips, swaying, as if about +to fall asleep, as he leaned against the wall. + +"Brigand! You shall pay for this," said the Frenchman, letting go of +him. "We French are merciful after victory, but we do not pardon +traitors," he added, with a look of gloomy dignity and a fine +energetic gesture. + +Pierre continued, in French, to persuade the officer not to hold +that drunken imbecile to account. The Frenchman listened in silence +with the same gloomy expression, but suddenly turned to Pierre with +a smile. For a few seconds he looked at him in silence. His handsome +face assumed a melodramatically gentle expression and he held out +his hand. + +"You have saved my life. You are French," said he. + +For a Frenchman that deduction was indubitable. Only a Frenchman +could perform a great deed, and to save his life- the life of M. +Ramballe, captain of the 13th Light Regiment- was undoubtedly a very +great deed. + +But however indubitable that conclusion and the officer's conviction +based upon it, Pierre felt it necessary to disillusion him. + +"I am Russian," he said quickly. + +"Tut, tut, tut! Tell that to others," said the officer, waving his +finger before his nose and smiling. "You shall tell me all about +that presently. I am delighted to meet a compatriot. Well, and what +are we to do with this man?" he added, addressing himself to Pierre as +to a brother. + +Even if Pierre were not a Frenchman, having once received that +loftiest of human appellations he could not renounce it, said the +officer's look and tone. In reply to his last question Pierre again +explained who Makar Alexeevich was and how just before their arrival +that drunken imbecile had seized the loaded pistol which they had +not had time to recover from him, and begged the officer to let the +deed go unpunished. + +The Frenchman expanded his chest and made a majestic gesture with +his arm. + +"You have saved my life! You are French. You ask his pardon? I grant +it you. Lead that man away!" said he quickly and energetically, and +taking the arm of Pierre whom he had promoted to be a Frenchman for +saving his life, he went with him into the room. + +The soldiers in the yard, hearing the shot, came into the passage +asking what had happened, and expressed their readiness to punish +the culprits, but the officer sternly checked them. + +"You will be called in when you are wanted," he said. + +The soldiers went out again, and the orderly, who had meanwhile +had time to visit the kitchen, came up to his officer. + +"Captain, there is soup and a leg of mutton in the kitchen," said +he. "Shall I serve them up?" + +"Yes, and some wine," answered the captain. + +CHAPTER XXIX + +When the French officer went into the room with Pierre the latter +again thought it his duty to assure him that he was not French and +wished to go away, but the officer would not hear of it. He was so +very polite, amiable, good-natured, and genuinely grateful to Pierre +for saving his life that Pierre had not the heart to refuse, and sat +down with him in the parlor- the first room they entered. To +Pierre's assurances that he was not a Frenchman, the captain, +evidently not understanding how anyone could decline so flattering +an appellation, shrugged his shoulders and said that if Pierre +absolutely insisted on passing for a Russian let it be so, but for all +that he would be forever bound to Pierre by gratitude for saving his +life. + +Had this man been endowed with the slightest capacity for perceiving +the feelings of others, and had he at all understood what Pierre's +feelings were, the latter would probably have left him, but the +man's animated obtuseness to everything other than himself disarmed +Pierre. + +"A Frenchman or a Russian prince incognito," said the officer, +looking at Pierre's fine though dirty linen and at the ring on his +finger. "I owe my life to you and offer you my friendship. A Frenchman +never forgets either an insult or a service. I offer you my +friendship. That is all I can say." + +There was so much good nature and nobility (in the French sense of +the word) in the officer's voice, in the expression of his face and in +his gestures, that Pierre, unconsciously smiling in response to the +Frenchman's smile, pressed the hand held out to him. + +"Captain Ramballe, of the 13th Light Regiment, Chevalier of the +Legion of Honor for the affair on the seventh of September," he +introduced himself, a self-satisfied irrepressible smile puckering his +lips under his mustache. "Will you now be so good as to tell me with +whom I have the honor of conversing so pleasantly, instead of being in +the ambulance with that maniac's bullet in my body?" + +Pierre replied that he could not tell him his name and, blushing, +began to try to invent a name and to say something about his reason +for concealing it, but the Frenchman hastily interrupted him. + +"Oh, please!" said he. "I understand your reasons. You are an +officer... a superior officer perhaps. You have borne arms against us. +That's not my business. I owe you my life. That is enough for me. I am +quite at your service. You belong to the gentry?" he concluded with +a shade of inquiry in his tone. Pierre bent his head. "Your +baptismal name, if you please. That is all I ask. Monsieur Pierre, you +say.... That's all I want to know." + +When the mutton and an omelet had been served and a samovar and +vodka brought, with some wine which the French had taken from a +Russian cellar and brought with them, Ramballe invited Pierre to share +his dinner, and himself began to eat greedily and quickly like a +healthy and hungry man, munching his food rapidly with his strong +teeth, continually smacking his lips, and repeating- "Excellent! +Delicious!" His face grew red and was covered with perspiration. +Pierre was hungry and shared the dinner with pleasure. Morel, the +orderly, brought some hot water in a saucepan and placed a bottle of +claret in it. He also brought a bottle of kvass, taken from the +kitchen for them to try. That beverage was already known to the French +and had been given a special name. They called it limonade de cochon +(pig's lemonade), and Morel spoke well of the limonade de cochon he +had found in the kitchen. But as the captain had the wine they had +taken while passing through Moscow, he left the kvass to Morel and +applied himself to the bottle of Bordeaux. He wrapped the bottle up to +its neck in a table napkin and poured out wine for himself and for +Pierre. The satisfaction of his hunger and the wine rendered the +captain still more lively and he chatted incessantly all through +dinner. + +"Yes, my dear Monsieur Pierre, I owe you a fine votive candle for +saving me from that maniac.... You see, I have bullets enough in my +body already. Here is one I got at Wagram" (he touched his side) +"and a second at Smolensk"- he showed a scar on his cheek- "and this +leg which as you see does not want to march, I got that on the seventh +at the great battle of la Moskowa. Sacre Dieu! It was splendid! That +deluge of fire was worth seeing. It was a tough job you set us +there, my word! You may be proud of it! And on my honor, in spite of +the cough I caught there, I should be ready to begin again. I pity +those who did not see it." + +"I was there," said Pierre. + +"Bah, really? So much the better! You are certainly brave foes. +The great redoubt held out well, by my pipe!" continued the Frenchman. +"And you made us pay dear for it. I was at it three times- sure as I +sit here. Three times we reached the guns and three times we were +thrown back like cardboard figures. Oh, it was beautiful, Monsieur +Pierre! Your grenadiers were splendid, by heaven! I saw them close +up their ranks six times in succession and march as if on parade. Fine +fellows! Our King of Naples, who knows what's what, cried 'Bravo!' Ha, +ha! So you are one of us soldiers!" he added, smiling, after a +momentary pause. "So much the better, so much the better, Monsieur +Pierre! Terrible in battle... gallant... with the fair" (he winked and +smiled), "that's what the French are, Monsieur Pierre, aren't they?" + +The captain was so naively and good-humoredly gay, so real, and so +pleased with himself that Pierre almost winked back as he looked +merrily at him. Probably the word "gallant" turned the captain's +thoughts to the state of Moscow. + +"Apropos, tell me please, is it true that the women have all left +Moscow? What a queer idea! What had they to be afraid of?" + +"Would not the French ladies leave Paris if the Russians entered +it?" asked Pierre. + +"Ha, ha, ha!" The Frenchman emitted a merry, sanguine chuckle, +patting Pierre on the shoulder. "What a thing to say!" he exclaimed. +"Paris?... But Paris, Paris..." + +"Paris- the capital of the world," Pierre finished his remark for +him. + +The captain looked at Pierre. He had a habit of stopping short in +the middle of his talk and gazing intently with his laughing, kindly +eyes. + +"Well, if you hadn't told me you were Russian, I should have wagered +that you were Parisian! You have that... I don't know what, that..." +and having uttered this compliment, he again gazed at him in silence. + +"I have been in Paris. I spent years there," said Pierre. + +"Oh yes, one sees that plainly. Paris!... A man who doesn't know +Paris is a savage. You can tell a Parisian two leagues off. Paris is +Talma, la Duchenois, Potier, the Sorbonne, the boulevards," and +noticing that his conclusion was weaker than what had gone before, +he added quickly: "There is only one Paris in the world. You have been +to Paris and have remained Russian. Well, I don't esteem you the +less for it." + +Under the influence of the wine he had drunk, and after the days +he had spent alone with his depressing thoughts, Pierre +involuntarily enjoyed talking with this cheerful and good-natured man. + +"To return to your ladies- I hear they are lovely. What a wretched +idea to go and bury themselves in the steppes when the French army +is in Moscow. What a chance those girls have missed! Your peasants, +now- that's another thing; but you civilized people, you ought to know +us better than that. We took Vienna, Berlin, Madrid, Naples, Rome, +Warsaw, all the world's capitals.... We are feared, but we are +loved. We are nice to know. And then the Emperor..." he began, but +Pierre interrupted him. + +"The Emperor," Pierre repeated, and his face suddenly became sad and +embarrassed, "is the Emperor...?" + +"The Emperor? He is generosity, mercy, justice, order, genius- +that's what the Emperor is! It is I, Ramballe, who tell you so.... I +assure you I was his enemy eight years ago. My father was an +emigrant count.... But that man has vanquished me. He has taken hold +of me. I could not resist the sight of the grandeur and glory with +which he has covered France. When I understood what he wanted- when +I saw that he was preparing a bed of laurels for us, you know, I +said to myself: 'That is a monarch,' and I devoted myself to him! So +there! Oh yes, mon cher, he is the greatest man of the ages past or +future." + +"Is he in Moscow?" Pierre stammered with a guilty look. + +The Frenchman looked at his guilty face and smiled. + +"No, he will make his entry tomorrow," he replied, and continued his +talk. + +Their conversation was interrupted by the cries of several voices at +the gate and by Morel, who came to say that some Wurttemberg hussars +had come and wanted to put up their horses in the yard where the +captain's horses were. This difficulty had arisen chiefly because +the hussars did not understand what was said to them in French. + +The captain had their senior sergeant called in, and in a stern +voice asked him to what regiment he belonged, who was his commanding +officer, and by what right he allowed himself to claim quarters that +were already occupied. The German who knew little French, answered the +two first questions by giving the names of his regiment and of his +commanding officer, but in reply to the third question which he did +not understand said, introducing broken French into his own German, +that he was the quartermaster of the regiment and his commander had +ordered him to occupy all the houses one after another. Pierre, who +knew German, translated what the German said to the captain and gave +the captain's reply to the Wurttemberg hussar in German. When he had +understood what was said to him, the German submitted and took his men +elsewhere. The captain went out into the porch and gave some orders in +a loud voice. + +When he returned to the room Pierre was sitting in the same place as +before, with his head in his hands. His face expressed suffering. He +really was suffering at that moment. When the captain went out and +he was left alone, suddenly he came to himself and realized the +position he was in. It was not that Moscow had been taken or that +the happy conquerors were masters in it and were patronizing him. +Painful as that was it was not that which tormented Pierre at the +moment. He was tormented by the consciousness of his own weakness. The +few glasses of wine he had drunk and the conversation with this +good-natured man had destroyed the mood of concentrated gloom in which +he had spent the last few days and which was essential for the +execution of his design. The pistol, dagger, and peasant coat were +ready. Napoleon was to enter the town next day. Pierre still +considered that it would be a useful and worthy action to slay the +evildoer, but now he felt that he would not do it. He did not know +why, but he felt a foreboding that he would not carry out his +intention. He struggled against the confession of his weakness but +dimly felt that he could not overcome it and that his former gloomy +frame of mind, concerning vengeance, killing, and self-sacrifice, +had been dispersed like dust by contact with the first man he met. + +The captain returned to the room, limping slightly and whistling a +tune. + +The Frenchman's chatter which had previously amused Pierre now +repelled him. The tune he was whistling, his gait, and the gesture +with which he twirled his mustache, all now seemed offensive. "I +will go away immediately. I won't say another word to him," thought +Pierre. He thought this, but still sat in the same place. A strange +feeling of weakness tied him to the spot; he wished to get up and go +away, but could not do so. + +The captain, on the other hand, seemed very cheerful. He paced up +and down the room twice. His eyes shone and his mustache twitched as +if he were smiling to himself at some amusing thought. + +"The colonel of those Wurttembergers is delightful," he suddenly +said. "He's a German, but a nice fellow all the same.... But he's a +German." He sat down facing Pierre. "By the way, you know German, +then?" + +Pierre looked at him in silence. + +"What is the German for 'shelter'?" + +"Shelter?" Pierre repeated. "The German for shelter is Unterkunft." + +"How do you say it?" the captain asked quickly and doubtfully. + +"Unterkunft," Pierre repeated. + +"Onterkoff," said the captain and looked at Pierre for some +seconds with laughing eyes. "These Germans are first-rate fools, don't +you think so, Monsieur Pierre?" he concluded. + +"Well, let's have another bottle of this Moscow Bordeaux, shall +we? Morel will warm us up another little bottle. Morel!" he called out +gaily. + +Morel brought candles and a bottle of wine. The captain looked at +Pierre by the candlelight and was evidently struck by the troubled +expression on his companion's face. Ramballe, with genuine distress +and sympathy in his face, went up to Pierre and bent over him. + +"There now, we're sad," said he, touching Pierre's hand. "Have I +upset you? No, really, have you anything against me?" he asked Pierre. +"Perhaps it's the state of affairs?" + +Pierre did not answer, but looked cordially into the Frenchman's +eyes whose expression of sympathy was pleasing to him. + +"Honestly, without speaking of what I owe you, I feel friendship for +you. Can I do anything for you? Dispose of me. It is for life and +death. I say it with my hand on my heart!" said he, striking his +chest. + +"Thank you," said Pierre. + +The captain gazed intently at him as he had done when he learned +that "shelter" was Unterkunft in German, and his face suddenly +brightened. + +"Well, in that case, I drink to our friendship!" he cried gaily, +filling two glasses with wine. + +Pierre took one of the glasses and emptied it. Ramballe emptied +his too, again pressed Pierre's hand, and leaned his elbows on the +table in a pensive attitude. + +"Yes, my dear friend," he began, "such is fortune's caprice. Who +would have said that I should be a soldier and a captain of dragoons +in the service of Bonaparte, as we used to call him? Yet here I am +in Moscow with him. I must tell you, mon cher," he continued in the +sad and measured tones of a man who intends to tell a long story, +"that our name is one of the most ancient in France." + +And with a Frenchman's easy and naive frankness the captain told +Pierre the story of his ancestors, his childhood, youth, and +manhood, and all about his relations and his financial and family +affairs, "ma pauvre mere" playing of course an important part in the +story. + +"But all that is only life's setting, the real thing is love- +love! Am I not right, Monsieur Pierre?" said he, growing animated. +"Another glass?" + +Pierre again emptied his glass and poured himself out a third. + +"Oh, women, women!" and the captain, looking with glistening eyes at +Pierre, began talking of love and of his love affairs. + +There were very many of these, as one could easily believe, +looking at the officer's handsome, self-satisfied face, and noting the +eager enthusiasm with which he spoke of women. Though all Ramballe's +love stories had the sensual character which Frenchmen regard as the +special charm and poetry of love, yet he told his story with such +sincere conviction that he alone had experienced and known all the +charm of love and he described women so alluringly that Pierre +listened to him with curiosity. + +It was plain that l'amour which the Frenchman was so fond of was not +that low and simple kind that Pierre had once felt for his wife, nor +was it the romantic love stimulated by himself that he experienced for +Natasha. (Ramballe despised both these kinds of love equally: the +one he considered the "love of clodhoppers" and the other the "love of +simpletons.") L'amour which the Frenchman worshiped consisted +principally in the unnaturalness of his relation to the woman and in a +combination of incongruities giving the chief charm to the feeling. + +Thus the captain touchingly recounted the story of his love for a +fascinating marquise of thirty-five and at the same time for a +charming, innocent child of seventeen, daughter of the bewitching +marquise. The conflict of magnanimity between the mother and the +daughter, ending in the mother's sacrificing herself and offering +her daughter in marriage to her lover, even now agitated the +captain, though it was the memory of a distant past. Then he recounted +an episode in which the husband played the part of the lover, and +he- the lover- assumed the role of the husband, as well as several +droll incidents from his recollections of Germany, where "shelter" +is called Unterkunft and where the husbands eat sauerkraut and the +young girls are "too blonde." + +Finally, the latest episode in Poland still fresh in the captain's +memory, and which he narrated with rapid gestures and glowing face, +was of how he had saved the life of a Pole (in general, the saving +of life continually occurred in the captain's stories) and the Pole +had entrusted to him his enchanting wife (parisienne de coeur) while +himself entering the French service. The captain was happy, the +enchanting Polish lady wished to elope with him, but, prompted by +magnanimity, the captain restored the wife to the husband, saying as +he did so: "I have saved your life, and I save your honor!" Having +repeated these words the captain wiped his eyes and gave himself a +shake, as if driving away the weakness which assailed him at this +touching recollection. + +Listening to the captain's tales, Pierre- as often happens late in +the evening and under the influence of wine- followed all that was +told him, understood it all, and at the same time followed a train +of personal memories which, he knew not why, suddenly arose in his +mind. While listening to these love stories his own love for Natasha +unexpectedly rose to his mind, and going over the pictures of that +love in his imagination he mentally compared them with Ramballe's +tales. Listening to the story of the struggle between love and duty, +Pierre saw before his eyes every minutest detail of his last meeting +with the object of his love at the Sukharev water tower. At the time +of that meeting it had not produced an effect upon him- he had not +even once recalled it. But now it seemed to him that that meeting +had had in it something very important and poetic. + +"Peter Kirilovich, come here! We have recognized you," he now seemed +to hear the words she had uttered and to see before him her eyes, +her smile, her traveling hood, and a stray lock of her hair... and +there seemed to him something pathetic and touching in all this. + +Having finished his tale about the enchanting Polish lady, the +captain asked Pierre if he had ever experienced a similar impulse to +sacrifice himself for love and a feeling of envy of the legitimate +husband. + +Challenged by this question Pierre raised his head and felt a need +to express the thoughts that filled his mind. He began to explain that +he understood love for a women somewhat differently. He said that in +all his life he had loved and still loved only one woman, and that she +could never be his. + +"Tiens!" said the captain. + +Pierre then explained that he had loved this woman from his earliest +years, but that he had not dared to think of her because she was too +young, and because he had been an illegitimate son without a name. +Afterwards when he had received a name and wealth he dared not think +of her because he loved her too well, placing her far above everything +in the world, and especially therefore above himself. + +When he had reached this point, Pierre asked the captain whether +he understood that. + +The captain made a gesture signifying that even if he did not +understand it he begged Pierre to continue. + +"Platonic love, clouds..." he muttered. + +Whether it was the wine he had drunk, or an impulse of frankness, or +the thought that this man did not, and never would, know any of +those who played a part in his story, or whether it was all these +things together, something loosened Pierre's tongue. Speaking +thickly and with a faraway look in his shining eyes, he told the whole +story of his life: his marriage, Natasha's love for his best friend, +her betrayal of him, and all his own simple relations with her. +Urged on by Ramballe's questions he also told what he had at first +concealed- his own position and even his name. + +More than anything else in Pierre's story the captain was +impressed by the fact that Pierre was very rich, had two mansions in +Moscow, and that he had abandoned everything and not left the city, +but remained there concealing his name and station. + +When it was late at night they went out together into the street. +The night was warm and light. To the left of the house on the Pokrovka +a fire glowed- the first of those that were beginning in Moscow. To +the right and high up in the sky was the sickle of the waning moon and +opposite to it hung that bright comet which was connected in +Pierre's heart with his love. At the gate stood Gerasim, the cook, and +two Frenchmen. Their laughter and their mutually incomprehensible +remarks in two languages could be heard. They were looking at the glow +seen in the town. + +There was nothing terrible in the one small, distant fire in the +immense city. + +Gazing at the high starry sky, at the moon, at the comet, and at the +glow from the fire, Pierre experienced a joyful emotion. "There now, +how good it is, what more does one need?" thought he. And suddenly +remembering his intention he grew dizzy and felt so faint that he +leaned against the fence to save himself from falling. + +Without taking leave of his new friend, Pierre left the gate with +unsteady steps and returning to his room lay down on the sofa and +immediately fell asleep. + +CHAPTER XXX + +The glow of the first fire that began on the second of September was +watched from the various roads by the fugitive Muscovites and by the +retreating troops, with many different feelings. + +The Rostov party spent the night at Mytishchi, fourteen miles from +Moscow. They had started so late on the first of September, the road +had been so blocked by vehicles and troops, so many things had been +forgotten for which servants were sent back, that they had decided +to spend that night at a place three miles out of Moscow. The next +morning they woke late and were again delayed so often that they +only got as far as Great Mytishchi. At ten o'clock that evening the +Rostov family and the wounded traveling with them were all distributed +in the yards and huts of that large village. The Rostovs' servants and +coachmen and the orderlies of the wounded officers, after attending to +their masters, had supper, fed the horses, and came out into the +porches. + +In a neighboring hut lay Raevski's adjutant with a fractured +wrist. The awful pain he suffered made him moan incessantly and +piteously, and his moaning sounded terrible in the darkness of the +autumn night. He had spent the first night in the same yard as the +Rostovs. The countess said she had been unable to close her eyes on +account of his moaning, and at Mytishchi she moved into a worse hut +simply to be farther away from the wounded man. + +In the darkness of the night one of the servants noticed, above +the high body of a coach standing before the porch, the small glow +of another fire. One glow had long been visible and everybody knew +that it was Little Mytishchi burning- set on fire by Mamonov's +Cossacks. + +"But look here, brothers, there's another fire!" remarked an +orderly. + +All turned their attention to the glow. + +"But they told us Little Mytishchi had been set on fire by Mamonov's +Cossacks." + +"But that's not Mytishchi, it's farther away." + +"Look, it must be in Moscow!" + +Two of the gazers went round to the other side of the coach and +sat down on its steps. + +"It's more to the left, why, Little Mytishchi is over there, and +this is right on the other side." + +Several men joined the first two. + +"See how it's flaring," said one. "That's a fire in Moscow: either +in the Sushchevski or the Rogozhski quarter." + +No one replied to this remark and for some time they all gazed +silently at the spreading flames of the second fire in the distance. + +Old Daniel Terentich, the count's valet (as he was called), came +up to the group and shouted at Mishka. + +"What are you staring at, you good-for-nothing?... The count will be +calling and there's nobody there; go and gather the clothes together." + +"I only ran out to get some water," said Mishka. + +"But what do you think, Daniel Terentich? Doesn't it look as if that +glow were in Moscow?" remarked one of the footmen. + +Daniel Terentich made no reply, and again for a long time they +were all silent. The glow spread, rising and failing, farther and +farther still. + +"God have mercy.... It's windy and dry..." said another voice. + +"Just look! See what it's doing now. O Lord! You can even see the +crows flying. Lord have mercy on us sinners!" + +"They'll put it out, no fear!" + +"Who's to put it out?" Daniel Terentich, who had hitherto been +silent, was heard to say. His voice was calm and deliberate. "Moscow +it is, brothers," said he. "Mother Moscow, the white..." his voice +faltered, and he gave way to an old man's sob. + +And it was as if they had all only waited for this to realize the +significance for them of the glow they were watching. Sighs were +heard, words of prayer, and the sobbing of the count's old valet. + +CHAPTER XXXI + +The valet, returning to the cottage, informed the count that +Moscow was burning. The count donned his dressing gown and went out to +look. Sonya and Madame Schoss, who had not yet undressed, went out +with him. Only Natasha and the countess remained in the room. Petya +was no longer with the family, he had gone on with his regiment +which was making for Troitsa. + +The countess, on hearing that Moscow was on fire, began to cry. +Natasha, pale, with a fixed look, was sitting on the bench under the +icons just where she had sat down on arriving and paid no attention to +her father's words. She was listening to the ceaseless moaning of +the adjutant, three houses off. + +"Oh, how terrible," said Sonya returning from the yard chilled and +frightened. "I believe the whole of Moscow will burn, there's an awful +glow! Natasha, do look! You can see it from the window," she said to +her cousin, evidently wishing to distract her mind. + +But Natasha looked at her as if not understanding what was said to +her and again fixed her eyes on the corner of the stove. She had +been in this condition of stupor since the morning, when Sonya, to the +surprise and annoyance of the countess, had for some unaccountable +reason found it necessary to tell Natasha of Prince Andrew's wound and +of his being with their party. The countess had seldom been so angry +with anyone as she was with Sonya. Sonya had cried and begged to be +forgiven and now, as if trying to atone for her fault, paid +unceasing attention to her cousin. + +"Look, Natasha, how dreadfully it is burning!" said she. + +"What's burning?" asked Natasha. "Oh, yes, Moscow." + +And as if in order not to offend Sonya and to get rid of her, she +turned her face to the window, looked out in such a way that it was +evident that she could not see anything, and again settled down in her +former attitude. + +"But you didn't see it!" + +"Yes, really I did," Natasha replied in a voice that pleaded to be +left in peace. + +Both the countess and Sonya understood that, naturally, neither +Moscow nor the burning of Moscow nor anything else could seem of +importance to Natasha. + +The count returned and lay down behind the partition. The countess +went up to her daughter and touched her head with the back of her hand +as she was wont to do when Natasha was ill, then touched her +forehead with her lips as if to feel whether she was feverish, and +finally kissed her. + +"You are cold. You are trembling all over. You'd better lie down," +said the countess. + +"Lie down? All right, I will. I'll lie down at once," said Natasha. + +When Natasha had been told that morning that Prince Andrew was +seriously wounded and was traveling with their party, she had at first +asked many questions: Where was he going? How was he wounded? Was it +serious? And could she see him? But after she had been told that she +could not see him, that he was seriously wounded but that his life was +not in danger, she ceased to ask questions or to speak at all, +evidently disbelieving what they told her, and convinced that say what +she might she would still be told the same. All the way she had sat +motionless in a corner of the coach with wide open eyes, and the +expression in them which the countess knew so well and feared so much, +and now she sat in the same way on the bench where she had seated +herself on arriving. She was planning something and either deciding or +had already decided something in her mind. The countess knew this, but +what it might be she did not know, and this alarmed and tormented her. + +"Natasha, undress, darling; lie down on my bed." + +A bed had been made on a bedstead for the countess only. Madame +Schoss and the two girls were to sleep on some hay on the floor. + +"No, Mamma, I will lie down here on the floor," Natasha replied +irritably and she went to the window and opened it. Through the open +window the moans of the adjutant could be heard more distinctly. She +put her head out into the damp night air, and the countess saw her +slim neck shaking with sobs and throbbing against the window frame. +Natasha knew it was not Prince Andrew who was moaning. She knew Prince +Andrew was in the same yard as themselves and in a part of the hut +across the passage; but this dreadful incessant moaning made her +sob. The countess exchanged a look with Sonya. + +"Lie down, darling; lie down, my pet," said the countess, softly +touching Natasha's shoulders. "Come, lie down." + +"Oh, yes... I'll lie down at once," said Natasha, and began +hurriedly undressing, tugging at the tapes of her petticoat. + +When she had thrown off her dress and put on a dressing jacket, +she sat down with her foot under her on the bed that had been made +up on the floor, jerked her thin and rather short plait of hair to the +front, and began replaiting it. Her long, thin, practiced fingers +rapidly unplaited, replaited, and tied up her plait. Her head moved +from side to side from habit, but her eyes, feverishly wide, looked +fixedly before her. When her toilet for the night was finished she +sank gently onto the sheet spread over the hay on the side nearest the +door. + +"Natasha, you'd better lie in the middle," said Sonya. + +"I'll stay here," muttered Natasha. "Do lie down," she added +crossly, and buried her face in the pillow. + +The countess, Madame Schoss, and Sonya undressed hastily and lay +down. The small lamp in front of the icons was the only light left +in the room. But in the yard there was a light from the fire at Little +Mytishchi a mile and a half away, and through the night came the noise +of people shouting at a tavern Mamonov's Cossacks had set up across +the street, and the adjutant's unceasing moans could still be heard. + +For a long time Natasha listened attentively to the sounds that +reached her from inside and outside the room and did not move. First +she heard her mother praying and sighing and the creaking of her bed +under her, then Madame Schoss' familiar whistling snore and Sonya's +gentle breathing. Then the countess called to Natasha. Natasha did not +answer. + +"I think she's asleep, Mamma," said Sonya softly. + +After short silence the countess spoke again but this time no one +replied. + +Soon after that Natasha heard her mother's even breathing. Natasha +did not move, though her little bare foot, thrust out from under the +quilt, was growing cold on the bare floor. + +As if to celebrate a victory over everybody, a cricket chirped in +a crack in the wall. A cock crowed far off and another replied near +by. The shouting in the tavern had died down; only the moaning of +the adjutant was heard. Natasha sat up. + +"Sonya, are you asleep? Mamma?" she whispered. + +No one replied. Natasha rose slowly and carefully, crossed +herself, and stepped cautiously on the cold and dirty floor with her +slim, supple, bare feet. The boards of the floor creaked. Stepping +cautiously from one foot to the other she ran like a kitten the few +steps to the door and grasped the cold door handle. + +It seemed to her that something heavy was beating rhythmically +against all the walls of the room: it was her own heart, sinking +with alarm and terror and overflowing with love. + +She opened the door and stepped across the threshold and onto the +cold, damp earthen floor of the passage. The cold she felt refreshed +her. With her bare feet she touched a sleeping man, stepped over +him, and opened the door into the part of the hut where Prince +Andrew lay. It was dark in there. In the farthest corner, on a bench +beside a bed on which something was lying, stood a tallow candle +with a long, thick, and smoldering wick. + +From the moment she had been told that of Prince Andrew's wound +and his presence there, Natasha had resolved to see him. She did not +know why she had to, she knew the meeting would be painful, but felt +the more convinced that it was necessary. + +All day she had lived only in hope of seeing him that night. But now +that the moment had come she was filled with dread of what she might +see. How was he maimed? What was left of him? Was he like that +incessant moaning of the adjutant's? Yes, he was altogether like that. +In her imagination he was that terrible moaning personified. When +she saw an indistinct shape in the corner, and mistook his knees +raised under the quilt for his shoulders, she imagined a horrible body +there, and stood still in terror. But an irresistible impulse drew her +forward. She cautiously took one step and then another, and found +herself in the middle of a small room containing baggage. Another man- +Timokhin- was lying in a corner on the benches beneath the icons, +and two others- the doctor and a valet- lay on the floor. + +The valet sat up and whispered something. Timokhin, kept awake by +the pain in his wounded leg, gazed with wide-open eyes at this strange +apparition of a girl in a white chemise, dressing jacket, and +nightcap. The valet's sleepy, frightened exclamation, "What do you +want? What's the matter?" made Natasha approach more swiftly to what +was lying in the corner. Horribly unlike a man as that body looked, +she must see him. She passed the valet, the snuff fell from the candle +wick, and she saw Prince Andrew clearly with his arms outside the +quilt, and such as she had always seen him. + +He was the same as ever, but the feverish color of his face, his +glittering eyes rapturously turned toward her, and especially his +neck, delicate as a child's, revealed by the turn-down collar of his +shirt, gave him a peculiarly innocent, childlike look, such as she had +never seen on him before. She went up to him and with a swift, +flexible, youthful movement dropped on her knees. + +He smiled and held out his hand to her. + +CHAPTER XXXII + +Seven days had passed since Prince Andrew found himself in the +ambulance station on the field of Borodino. His feverish state and the +inflammation of his bowels, which were injured, were in the doctor's +opinion sure to carry him off. But on the seventh day he ate with +pleasure a piece of bread with some tea, and the doctor noticed that +his temperature was lower. He had regained consciousness that morning. +The first night after they left Moscow had been fairly warm and he had +remained in the caleche, but at Mytishchi the wounded man himself +asked to be taken out and given some tea. The pain caused by his +removal into the hut had made him groan aloud and again lose +consciousness. When he had been placed on his camp bed he lay for a +long time motionless with closed eyes. Then he opened them and +whispered softly: "And the tea?" His remembering such a small detail +of everyday life astonished the doctor. He felt Prince Andrew's pulse, +and to his surprise and dissatisfaction found it had improved. He +was dissatisfied because he knew by experience that if his patient did +not die now, he would do so a little later with greater suffering. +Timokhin, the red-nosed major of Prince Andrew's regiment, had +joined him in Moscow and was being taken along with him, having been +wounded in the leg at the battle of Borodino. They were accompanied by +a doctor, Prince Andrew's valet, his coach. man, and two orderlies. + +They gave Prince Andrew some tea. He drank it eagerly, looking +with feverish eyes at the door in front of him as if trying to +understand and remember something. + +"I don't want any more. Is Timokhin here?" he asked. + +Timokhin crept along the bench to him. + +"I am here, your excellency." + +"How's your wound?" + +"Mine, sir? All right. But how about you?" + +Prince Andrew again pondered as if trying to remember something. + +"Couldn't one get a book?" he asked. + +"What book?" + +"The Gospels. I haven't one." + +The doctor promised to procure it for him and began to ask how he +was feeling. Prince Andrew answered all his questions reluctantly +but reasonably, and then said he wanted a bolster placed under him +as he was uncomfortable and in great pain. The doctor and valet lifted +the cloak with which he was covered and, making wry faces at the +noisome smell of mortifying flesh that came from the wound, began +examining that dreadful place. The doctor was very much displeased +about something and made a change in the dressings, turning the +wounded man over so that he groaned again and grew unconscious and +delirious from the agony. He kept asking them to get him the book +and put it under him. + +"What trouble would it be to you?" he said. "I have not got one. +Please get it for me and put it under for a moment," he pleaded in a +piteous voice. + +The doctor went into the passage to wash his hands. + +"You fellows have no conscience," said he to the valet who was +pouring water over his hands. "For just one moment I didn't look after +you... It's such pain, you know, that I wonder how he can bear it." + +"By the Lord Jesus Christ, I thought we had put something under +him!" said the valet. + +The first time Prince Andrew understood where he was and what was +the matter with him and remembered being wounded and how was when he +asked to be carried into the hut after his caleche had stopped at +Mytishchi. After growing confused from pain while being carried into +the hut he again regained consciousness, and while drinking tea once +more recalled all that had happened to him, and above all vividly +remembered the moment at the ambulance station when, at the sight of +the sufferings of a man he disliked, those new thoughts had come to +him which promised him happiness. And those thoughts, though now vague +and indefinite, again possessed his soul. He remembered that he had +now a new source of happiness and that this happiness had something to +do with the Gospels. That was why he asked for a copy of them. The +uncomfortable position in which they had put him and turned him over +again confused his thoughts, and when he came to himself a third +time it was in the complete stillness of the night. Everybody near him +was sleeping. A cricket chirped from across the passage; someone was +shouting and singing in the street; cockroaches rustled on the +table, on the icons, and on the walls, and a big fly flopped at the +head of the bed and around the candle beside him, the wick of which +was charred and had shaped itself like a mushroom. + +His mind was not in a normal state. A healthy man usually thinks of, +feels, and remembers innumerable things simultaneously, but has the +power and will to select one sequence of thoughts or events on which +to fix his whole attention. A healthy man can tear himself away from +the deepest reflections to say a civil word to someone who comes in +and can then return again to his own thoughts. But Prince Andrew's +mind was not in a normal state in that respect. All the powers of +his mind were more active and clearer than ever, but they acted +apart from his will. Most diverse thoughts and images occupied him +simultaneously. At times his brain suddenly began to work with a +vigor, clearness, and depth it had never reached when he was in +health, but suddenly in the midst of its work it would turn to some +unexpected idea and he had not the strength to turn it back again. + +"Yes, a new happiness was revealed to me of which man cannot be +deprived," he thought as he lay in the semi-darkness of the quiet hut, +gazing fixedly before him with feverish wide open eyes. "A happiness +lying beyond material forces, outside the material influences that act +on man- a happiness of the soul alone, the happiness of loving. +Every man can understand it, but to conceive it and enjoin it was +possible only for God. But how did God enjoin that law? And why was +the Son...?" + +And suddenly the sequence of these thoughts broke off, and Prince +Andrew heard (without knowing whether it was a delusion or reality) +a soft whispering voice incessantly and rhythmically repeating +"piti-piti-piti," and then "titi," and then again "piti-piti-piti," +and "ti-ti" once more. At the same time he felt that above his face, +above the very middle of it, some strange airy structure was being +erected out of slender needles or splinters, to the sound of this +whispered music. He felt that he had to balance carefully (though it +was difficult) so that this airy structure should not collapse; but +nevertheless it kept collapsing and again slowly rising to the sound +of whispered rhythmic music- "it stretches, stretches, spreading out +and stretching," said Prince Andrew to himself. While listening to +this whispering and feeling the sensation of this drawing out and +the construction of this edifice of needles, he also saw by glimpses a +red halo round the candle, and heard the rustle of the cockroaches and +the buzzing of the fly that flopped against his pillow and his face. +Each time the fly touched his face it gave him a burning sensation and +yet to his surprise it did not destroy the structure, though it +knocked against the very region of his face where it was rising. But +besides this there was something else of importance. It was +something white by the door- the statue of a sphinx, which also +oppressed him. + +"But perhaps that's my shirt on the table," he thought, "and +that's my legs, and that is the door, but why is it always +stretching and drawing itself out, and 'piti-piti-piti' and 'ti-ti' +and 'piti-piti-piti'...? That's enough, please leave off!" Prince +Andrew painfully entreated someone. And suddenly thoughts and feelings +again swam to the surface of his mind with peculiar clearness and +force. + +"Yes- love," he thought again quite clearly. "But not love which +loves for something, for some quality, for some purpose, or for some +reason, but the love which I- while dying- first experienced when I +saw my enemy and yet loved him. I experienced that feeling of love +which is the very essence of the soul and does not require an +object. Now again I feel that bliss. To love one's neighbors, to +love one's enemies, to love everything, to love God in all His +manifestations. It is possible to love someone dear to you with +human love, but an enemy can only be loved by divine love. That is why +I experienced such joy when I felt that I loved that man. What has +become of him? Is he alive?... + +"When loving with human love one may pass from love to hatred, but +divine love cannot change. No, neither death nor anything else can +destroy it. It is the very essence of the soul. Yet how many people +have I hated in my life? And of them all, I loved and hated none as +I did her." And he vividly pictured to himself Natasha, not as he +had done in the past with nothing but her charms which gave him +delight, but for the first time picturing to himself her soul. And +he understood her feelings, her sufferings, shame, and remorse. He now +understood for the first time all the cruelty of his rejection of her, +the cruelty of his rupture with her. "If only it were possible for +me to see her once more! Just once, looking into those eyes to say..." + +"Piti-piti-piti and ti-ti and piti-piti-piti boom!" flopped the +fly... And his attention was suddenly carried into another world, a +world of reality and delirium in which something particular was +happening. In that world some structure was still being erected and +did not fall, something was still stretching out, and the candle +with its red halo was still burning, and the same shirtlike sphinx lay +near the door; but besides all this something creaked, there was a +whiff of fresh air, and a new white sphinx appeared, standing at the +door. And that sphinx had the pale face and shining eyes of the very +Natasha of whom he had just been thinking. + +"Oh, how oppressive this continual delirium is," thought Prince +Andrew, trying to drive that face from his imagination. But the face +remained before him with the force of reality and drew nearer. +Prince Andrew wished to return that former world of pure thought, +but he could not, and delirium drew him back into its domain. The soft +whispering voice continued its rhythmic murmur, something oppressed +him and stretched out, and the strange face was before him. Prince +Andrew collected all his strength in an effort to recover his +senses, he moved a little, and suddenly there was a ringing in his +ears, a dimness in his eyes, and like a man plunged into water he lost +consciousness. When he came to himself, Natasha, that same living +Natasha whom of all people he most longed to love with this new pure +divine love that had been revealed to him, was kneeling before him. He +realized that it was the real living Natasha, and he was not surprised +but quietly happy. Natasha, motionless on her knees (she was unable to +stir), with frightened eyes riveted on him, was restraining her +sobs. Her face was pale and rigid. Only in the lower part of it +something quivered. + +Prince Andrew sighed with relief, smiled, and held out his hand. + +"You?" he said. "How fortunate!" + +With a rapid but careful movement Natasha drew nearer to him on +her knees and, taking his hand carefully, bent her face over it and +began kissing it, just touching it lightly with her lips. + +"Forgive me!" she whispered, raising her head and glancing at him. +"Forgive me!" + +"I love you," said Prince Andrew. + +"Forgive...!" + +"Forgive what?" he asked. + +"Forgive me for what I ha-ve do-ne!" faltered Natasha in a +scarcely audible, broken whisper, and began kissing his hand more +rapidly, just touching it with her lips. + +"I love you more, better than before," said Prince Andrew, lifting +her face with his hand so as to look into her eyes. + +Those eyes, filled with happy tears, gazed at him timidly, +compassionately, and with joyous love. Natasha's thin pale face, +with its swollen lips, was more than plain- it was dreadful. But +Prince Andrew did not see that, he saw her shining eyes which were +beautiful. They heard the sound of voices behind them. + +Peter the valet, who was now wide awake, had roused the doctor. +Timokhin, who had not slept at all because of the pain in his leg, had +long been watching all that was going on, carefully covering his +bare body with the sheet as he huddled up on his bench. + +"What's this?" said the doctor, rising from his bed. "Please go +away, madam!" + +At that moment a maid sent by the countess, who had noticed her +daughter's absence, knocked at the door. + +Like a somnambulist aroused from her sleep Natasha went out of the +room and, returning to her hut, fell sobbing on her bed. + +From that time, during all the rest of the Rostovs' journey, at +every halting place and wherever they spent a night, Natasha never +left the wounded Bolkonski, and the doctor had to admit that he had +not expected from a young girl either such firmness or such skill in +nursing a wounded man. + +Dreadful as the countess imagined it would be should Prince Andrew +die in her daughter's arms during the journey- as, judging by what the +doctor said, it seemed might easily happen- she could not oppose +Natasha. Though with the intimacy now established between the +wounded man and Natasha the thought occurred that should he recover +their former engagement would be renewed, no one- least of all Natasha +and Prince Andrew- spoke of this: the unsettled question of life and +death, which hung not only over Bolkonski but over all Russia, shut +out all other considerations. + +CHAPTER XXXIII + +On the third of September Pierre awoke late. His head was aching, +the clothes in which he had slept without undressing felt +uncomfortable on his body, and his mind had a dim consciousness of +something shameful he had done the day before. That something shameful +was his yesterday's conversation with Captain Ramballe. + +It was eleven by the clock, but it seemed peculiarly dark out of +doors. Pierre rose, rubbed his eyes, and seeing the pistol with an +engraved stock which Gerasim had replaced on the writing table, he +remembered where he was and what lay before him that very day. + +"Am I not too late?" he thought. "No, probably he won't make his +entry into Moscow before noon." + +Pierre did not allow himself to reflect on what lay before him, +but hastened to act. + +After arranging his clothes, he took the pistol and was about to +go out. But it then occurred to him for the first time that he +certainly could not carry the weapon in his hand through the +streets. It was difficult to hide such a big pistol even under his +wide coat. He could not carry it unnoticed in his belt or under his +arm. Besides, it had been discharged, and he had not had time to +reload it. "No matter, dagger will do," he said to himself, though +when planning his design he had more than once come to the +conclusion that the chief mistake made by the student in 1809 had been +to try to kill Napoleon with a dagger. But as his chief aim +consisted not in carrying out his design, but in proving to himself +that he would not abandon his intention and was doing all he could +to achieve it, Pierre hastily took the blunt jagged dagger in a +green sheath which he had bought at the Sukharev market with the +pistol, and hid it under his waistcoat. + +Having tied a girdle over his coat and pulled his cap low on his +head, Pierre went down the corridor, trying to avoid making a noise or +meeting the captain, and passed out into the street. + +The conflagration, at which he had looked with so much +indifference the evening before, had greatly increased during the +night. Moscow was on fire in several places. The buildings in Carriage +Row, across the river, in the Bazaar and the Povarskoy, as well as the +barges on the Moskva River and the timber yards by the Dorogomilov +Bridge, were all ablaze. + +Pierre's way led through side streets to the Povarskoy and from +there to the church of St. Nicholas on the Arbat, where he had long +before decided that the deed should should be done. The gates of +most of the houses were locked and the shutters up. The streets and +lanes were deserted. The air was full of smoke and the smell of +burning. Now and then he met Russians with anxious and timid faces, +and Frenchmen with an air not of the city but of the camp, walking +in the middle of the streets. Both the Russians and the French +looked at Pierre with surprise. Besides his height and stoutness, +and the strange morose look of suffering in his face and whole figure, +the Russians stared at Pierre because they could not make out to +what class he could belong. The French followed him with +astonishment in their eyes chiefly because Pierre, unlike all the +other Russians who gazed at the French with fear and curiosity, paid +no attention to them. At the gate of one house three Frenchmen, who +were explaining something to some Russians who did not understand +them, stopped Pierre asking if he did not know French. + +Pierre shook his head and went on. In another side street a sentinel +standing beside a green caisson shouted at him, but only when the +shout was threateningly repeated and he heard the click of the man's +musket as he raised it did Pierre understand that he had to pass on +the other side of the street. He heard nothing and saw nothing of what +went on around him. He carried his resolution within himself in terror +and haste, like something dreadful and alien to him, for, after the +previous night's experience, he was afraid of losing it. But he was +not destined to bring his mood safely to his destination. And even had +he not been hindered by anything on the way, his intention could not +now have been carried out, for Napoleon had passed the Arbat more than +four hours previously on his way from the Dorogomilov suburb to the +Kremlin, and was now sitting in a very gloomy frame of mind in a royal +study in the Kremlin, giving detailed and exact orders as to +measures to be taken immediately to extinguish the fire, to prevent +looting, and to reassure the inhabitants. But Pierre did not know +this; he was entirely absorbed in what lay before him, and was +tortured- as those are who obstinately undertake a task that is +impossible for them not because of its difficulty but because of its +incompatibility with their natures- by the fear of weakening at the +decisive moment and so losing his self-esteem. + +Though he heard and saw nothing around him he found his way by +instinct and did not go wrong in the side streets that led to the +Povarskoy. + +As Pierre approached that street the smoke became denser and denser- +he even felt the heat of the fire. Occasionally curly tongues of flame +rose from under the roofs of the houses. He met more people in the +streets and they were more excited. But Pierre, though he felt that +something unusual was happening around him, did not realize that he +was approaching the fire. As he was going along a foot path across a +wide-open space adjoining the Povarskoy on one side and the gardens of +Prince Gruzinski's house on the other, Pierre suddenly heard the +desperate weeping of a woman close to him. He stopped as if +awakening from a dream and lifted his head. + +By the side of the path, on the dusty dry grass, all sorts of +household goods lay in a heap: featherbeds, a samovar, icons, and +trunks. On the ground, beside the trunks, sat a thin woman no longer +young, with long, prominent upper teeth, and wearing a black cloak and +cap. This woman, swaying to and fro and muttering something, was +choking with sobs. Two girls of about ten and twelve, dressed in dirty +short frocks and cloaks, were staring at their mother with a look of +stupefaction on their pale frightened faces. The youngest child, a boy +of about seven, who wore an overcoat and an immense cap evidently +not his own, was crying in his old nurse's arms. A dirty, barefooted +maid was sitting on a trunk, and, having undone her pale-colored +plait, was pulling it straight and sniffing at her singed hair. The +woman's husband, a short, round-shouldered man in the undress +uniform of a civilian official, with sausage-shaped whiskers and +showing under his square-set cap the hair smoothly brushed forward +over his temples, with expressionless face was moving the trunks, +which were placed one on another, and was dragging some garments +from under them. + +As soon as she saw Pierre, the woman almost threw herself at his +feet. + +"Dear people, good Christians, save me, help me, dear friends... +help us, somebody," she muttered between her sobs. "My girl... My +daughter! My youngest daughter is left behind. She's burned! Ooh! +Was it for this I nursed you.... Ooh!" + +"Don't, Mary Nikolievna!" said her husband to her in a low voice, +evidently only to justify himself before the stranger. "Sister must +have taken her, or else where can she be?" he added. + +"Monster! Villain!" shouted the woman angrily, suddenly ceasing to +weep. "You have no heart, you don't feel for your own child! Another +man would have rescued her from the fire. But this is a monster and +neither a man nor a father! You, honored sir, are a noble man," she +went on, addressing Pierre rapidly between her sobs. "The fire broke +out alongside, and blew our way, the maid called out 'Fire!' and we +rushed to collect our things. We ran out just as we were.... This is +what we have brought away.... The icons, and my dowry bed, all the +rest is lost. We seized the children. But not Katie! Ooh! O +Lord!..." and again she began to sob. "My child, my dear one! +Burned, burned!" + +"But where was she left?" asked Pierre. + +From the expression of his animated face the woman saw that this man +might help her. + +"Oh, dear sir!" she cried, seizing him by the legs. "My +benefactor, set my heart at ease.... Aniska, go, you horrid girl, show +him the way!" she cried to the maid, angrily opening her mouth and +still farther exposing her long teeth. + +"Show me the way, show me, I... I'll do it," gasped Pierre rapidly. + +The dirty maidservant stepped from behind the trunk, put up her +plait, sighed, and went on her short, bare feet along the path. Pierre +felt as if he had come back to life after a heavy swoon. He held his +head higher, his eyes shone with the light of life, and with swift +steps he followed the maid, overtook her, and came out on the +Povarskoy. The whole street was full of clouds of black smoke. Tongues +of flame here and there broke through that cloud. A great number of +people crowded in front of the conflagration. In the middle of the +street stood a French general saying something to those around him. +Pierre, accompanied by the maid, was advancing to the spot where the +general stood, but the French soldiers stopped him. + +"On ne passe pas!"~^ cried a voice. + +^~ "You can't pass! + +"This way, uncle," cried the girl. "We'll pass through the side +street, by the Nikulins'!" + +Pierre turned back, giving a spring now and then to keep up with +her. She ran across the street, turned down a side street to the left, +and, passing three houses, turned into a yard on the right. + +"It's here, close by," said she and, running across the yard, opened +a gate in a wooden fence and, stopping, pointed out to him a small +wooden wing of the house, which was burning brightly and fiercely. One +of its sides had fallen in, another was on fire, and bright flames +issued from the openings of the windows and from under the roof. + +As Pierre passed through the fence gate, he was enveloped by hot air +and involuntarily stopped. + +"Which is it? Which is your house?" he asked. + +"Ooh!" wailed the girl, pointing to the wing. "That's it, that was +our lodging. You've burned to death, our treasure, Katie, my +precious little missy! Ooh!" lamented Aniska, who at the sight of +the fire felt that she too must give expression to her feelings. + +Pierre rushed to the wing, but the heat was so great that he +involuntarily passed round in a curve and came upon the large house +that was as yet burning only at one end, just below the roof, and +around which swarmed a crowd of Frenchmen. At first Pierre did not +realize what these men, who were dragging something out, were about; +but seeing before him a Frenchman hitting a peasant with a blunt saber +and trying to take from him a fox-fur coat, he vaguely understood that +looting was going on there, but he had no time to dwell on that idea. + +The sounds of crackling and the din of falling walls and ceilings, +the whistle and hiss of the flames, the excited shouts of the +people, and the sight of the swaying smoke, now gathering into thick +black clouds and now soaring up with glittering sparks, with here +and there dense sheaves of flame (now red and now like golden fish +scales creeping along the walls), and the heat and smoke and +rapidity of motion, produced on Pierre the usual animating effects +of a conflagration. It had a peculiarly strong effect on him because +at the sight of the fire he felt himself suddenly freed from the ideas +that had weighed him down. He felt young, bright, adroit, and +resolute. He ran round to the other side of the lodge and was about to +dash into that part of it which was still standing, when just above +his head he heard several voices shouting and then a cracking sound +and the ring of something heavy falling close beside him. + +Pierre looked up and saw at a window of the large house some +Frenchmen who had just thrown out the drawer of a chest, filled with +metal articles. Other French soldiers standing below went up to the +drawer. + +"What does this fellow want?" shouted one of them referring to +Pierre. + +"There's a child in that house. Haven't you seen a child?" cried +Pierre. + +"What's he talking about? Get along!" said several voices, and one +of the soldiers, evidently afraid that Pierre might want to take +from them some of the plate and bronzes that were in the drawer, moved +threateningly toward him. + +"A child?" shouted a Frenchman from above. "I did hear something +squealing in the garden. Perhaps it's his brat that the fellow is +looking for. After all, one must be human, you know...." + +"Where is it? Where?" said Pierre. + +"There! There!" shouted the Frenchman at the window, pointing to the +garden at the back of the house. "Wait a bit- I'm coming down." + +And a minute or two later the Frenchman, a black-eyed fellow with +a spot on his cheek, in shirt sleeves, really did jump out of a window +on the ground floor, and clapping Pierre on the shoulder ran with +him into the garden. + +"Hurry up, you others!" he called out to his comrades. "It's getting +hot." + +When they reached a gravel path behind the house the Frenchman +pulled Pierre by the arm and pointed to a round, graveled space +where a three-year-old girl in a pink dress was lying under a seat. + +"There is your child! Oh, a girl, so much the better!" said the +Frenchman. "Good-by, Fatty. We must be human, we are all mortal you +know!" and the Frenchman with the spot on his cheek ran back to his +comrades. + +Breathless with joy, Pierre ran to the little girl and was going +to take her in his arms. But seeing a stranger the sickly, +scrofulous-looking child, unattractively like her mother, began to +yell and run away. Pierre, however, seized her and lifted her in his +arms. She screamed desperately and angrily and tried with her little +hands to pull Pierre's hands away and to bite them with her slobbering +mouth. Pierre was seized by a sense of horror and repulsion such as he +had experienced when touching some nasty little animal. But he made an +effort not to throw the child down and ran with her to the large +house. It was now, however, impossible to get back the way he had +come; the maid, Aniska, was no longer there, and Pierre with a feeling +of pity and disgust pressed the wet, painfully sobbing child to +himself as tenderly as he could and ran with her through the garden +seeking another way out. + +CHAPTER XXXIV + +Having run through different yards and side streets, Pierre got back +with his little burden to the Gruzinski garden at the corner of the +Povarskoy. He did not at first recognize the place from which he had +set out to look for the child, so crowded was it now with people and +goods that had been dragged out of the houses. Besides Russian +families who had taken refuge here from the fire with their +belongings, there were several French soldiers in a variety of +clothing. Pierre took no notice of them. He hurried to find the family +of that civil servant in order to restore the daughter to her mother +and go to save someone else. Pierre felt that he had still much to +do and to do quickly. Glowing with the heat and from running, he +felt at that moment more strongly than ever the sense of youth, +animation, and determination that had come on him when he ran to +save the child. She had now become quiet and, clinging with her little +hands to Pierre's coat, sat on his arm gazing about her like some +little wild animal. He glanced at her occasionally with a slight +smile. He fancied he saw something pathetically innocent in that +frightened, sickly little face. + +He did not find the civil servant or his wife where he had left +them. He walked among the crowd with rapid steps, scanning the various +faces he met. Involuntarily he noticed a Georgian or Armenian family +consisting of a very handsome old man of Oriental type, wearing a new, +cloth-covered, sheepskin coat and new boots, an old woman of similar +type, and a young woman. That very young woman seemed to Pierre the +perfection of Oriental beauty, with her sharply outlined, arched, +black eyebrows and the extraordinarily soft, bright color of her long, +beautiful, expressionless face. Amid the scattered property and the +crowd on the open space, she, in her rich satin cloak with a bright +lilac shawl on her head, suggested a delicate exotic plant thrown +out onto the snow. She was sitting on some bundles a little behind the +old woman, and looked from under her long lashes with motionless, +large, almond-shaped eyes at the ground before her. Evidently she +was aware of her beauty and fearful because of it. Her face struck +Pierre and, hurrying along by the fence, he turned several times to +look at her. When he had reached the fence, still without finding +those he sought, he stopped and looked about him. + +With the child in his arms his figure was now more conspicuous +than before, and a group of Russians, both men and women, gathered +about him. + +"Have you lost anyone, my dear fellow? You're of the gentry +yourself, aren't you? Whose child is it?" they asked him. + +Pierre replied that the child belonged to a woman in a black coat +who had been sitting there with her other children, and he asked +whether anyone knew where she had gone. + +"Why, that must be the Anferovs," said an old deacon, addressing a +pockmarked peasant woman. "Lord have mercy, Lord have mercy!" he added +in his customary bass. + +"The Anferovs? No," said the woman. "They left in the morning. +That must be either Mary Nikolievna's or the Ivanovs'!" + +"He says 'a woman,' and Mary Nikolievna is a lady," remarked a house +serf. + +"Do you know her? She's thin, with long teeth," said Pierre. + +"That's Mary Nikolievna! They went inside the garden when these +wolves swooped down," said the woman, pointing to the French soldiers. + +"O Lord, have mercy!" added the deacon. + +"Go over that way, they're there. It's she! She kept on lamenting +and crying," continued the woman. "It's she. Here, this way!" + +But Pierre was not listening to the woman. He had for some seconds +been intently watching what was going on a few steps away. He was +looking at the Armenian family and at two French soldiers who had gone +up to them. One of these, a nimble little man, was wearing a blue coat +tied round the waist with a rope. He had a nightcap on his head and +his feet were bare. The other, whose appearance particularly struck +Pierre, was a long, lank, round-shouldered, fair-haired man, slow in +his movements and with an idiotic expression of face. He wore a +woman's loose gown of frieze, blue trousers, and large torn Hessian +boots. The little barefooted Frenchman in the blue coat went up to the +Armenians and, saying something, immediately seized the old man by his +legs and the old man at once began pulling off his boots. The other in +the frieze gown stopped in front of the beautiful Armenian girl and +with his hands in his pockets stood staring at her, motionless and +silent. + +"Here, take the child!" said Pierre peremptorily and hurriedly to +the woman, handing the little girl to her. "Give her back to them, +give her back!" he almost shouted, putting the child, who began +screaming, on the ground, and again looking at the Frenchman and the +Armenian family. + +The old man was already sitting barefoot. The little Frenchman had +secured his second boot and was slapping one boot against the other. +The old man was saying something in a voice broken by sobs, but Pierre +caught but a glimpse of this, his whole attention was directed to +the Frenchman in the frieze gown who meanwhile, swaying slowly from +side to side, had drawn nearer to the young woman and taking his hands +from his pockets had seized her by the neck. + +The beautiful Armenian still sat motionless and in the same +attitude, with her long lashes drooping as if she did not see or +feel what the soldier was doing to her. + +While Pierre was running the few steps that separated him from the +Frenchman, the tall marauder in the frieze gown was already tearing +from her neck the necklace the young Armenian was wearing, and the +young woman, clutching at her neck, screamed piercingly. + +"Let that woman alone!" exclaimed Pierre hoarsely in a furious +voice, seizing the soldier by his round shoulders and throwing him +aside. + +The soldier fell, got up, and ran away. But his comrade, throwing +down the boots and drawing his sword, moved threateningly toward +Pierre. + +"Voyons, Pas de betises!"~^ he cried. + +^~ "Look here, no nonsense!" + +Pierre was in such a transport of rage that he remembered nothing +and his strength increased tenfold. He rushed at the barefooted +Frenchman and, before the latter had time to draw his sword, knocked +him off his feet and hammered him with his fists. Shouts of approval +were heard from the crowd around, and at the same moment a mounted +patrol of French Uhlans appeared from round the corner. The Uhlans +came up at a trot to Pierre and the Frenchman and surrounded them. +Pierre remembered nothing of what happened after that. He only +remembered beating someone and being beaten and finally feeling that +his hands were bound and that a crowd of French soldiers stood +around him and were searching him. + +"Lieutenant, he has a dagger," were the first words Pierre +understood. + +"Ah, a weapon?" said the officer and turned to the barefooted +soldier who had been arrested with Pierre. "All right, you can tell +all about it at the court-martial." Then he turned to Pierre. "Do +you speak French?" + +Pierre looked around him with bloodshot eyes and did not reply. +His face probably looked very terrible, for the officer said something +in a whisper and four more Uhlans left the ranks and placed themselves +on both sides of Pierre. + +"Do you speak French?" the officer asked again, keeping at a +distance from Pierre. "Call the interpreter." + +A little man in Russian civilian clothes rode out from the ranks, +and by his clothes and manner of speaking Pierre at once knew him to +be a French salesman from one of the Moscow shops. + +"He does not look like a common man," said the interpreter, after +a searching look at Pierre. + +"Ah, he looks very much like an incendiary," remarked the officer. +"And ask him who he is," he added. + +"Who are you?" asked the interpreter in poor Russian. "You must +answer the chief." + +"I will not tell you who I am. I am your prisoner- take me!" +Pierre suddenly replied in French. + +"Ah, ah!" muttered the officer with a frown. "Well then, march!" + +A crowd had collected round the Uhlans. Nearest to Pierre stood +the pockmarked peasant woman with the little girl, and when the patrol +started she moved forward. + +"Where are they taking you to, you poor dear?" said she. "And the +little girl, the little girl, what am I to do with her if she's not +theirs?" said the woman. + +"What does that woman want?" asked the officer. + +Pierre was as if intoxicated. His elation increased at the sight +of the little girl he had saved. + +"What does she want?" he murmured. "She is bringing me my daughter +whom I have just saved from the flames," said he. "Good-by!" And +without knowing how this aimless lie had escaped him, he went along +with resolute and triumphant steps between the French soldiers. + +The French patrol was one of those sent out through the various +streets of Moscow by Durosnel's order to put a stop to the pillage, +and especially to catch the incendiaries who, according to the general +opinion which had that day originated among the higher French +officers, were the cause of the conflagrations. After marching through +a number of streets the patrol arrested five more Russian suspects: +a small shopkeeper, two seminary students, a peasant, and a house +serf, besides several looters. But of all these various suspected +characters, Pierre was considered to be the most suspicious of all. +When they had all been brought for the night to a large house on the +Zubov Rampart that was being used as a guardhouse, Pierre was placed +apart under strict guard. + +BOOK TWELVE: 1812 + +CHAPTER I + +In Petersburg at that time a complicated struggle was being +carried on with greater heat than ever in the highest circles, between +the parties of Rumyantsev, the French, Marya Fedorovna, the Tsarevich, +and others, drowned as usual by the buzzing of the court drones. But +the calm, luxurious life of Petersburg, concerned only about +phantoms and reflections of real life, went on in its old way and made +it hard, except by a great effort, to realize the danger and the +difficult position of the Russian people. There were the same +receptions and balls, the same French theater, the same court +interests and service interests and intrigues as usual. Only in the +very highest circles were attempts made to keep in mind the +difficulties of the actual position. Stories were whispered of how +differently the two Empresses behaved in these difficult +circumstances. The Empress Marya, concerned for the welfare of the +charitable and educational institutions under her patronage, had given +directions that they should all be removed to Kazan, and the things +belonging to these institutions had already been packed up. The +Empress Elisabeth, however, when asked what instructions she would +be pleased to give- with her characteristic Russian patriotism had +replied that she could give no directions about state institutions for +that was the affair of the sovereign, but as far as she personally was +concerned she would be the last to quit Petersburg. + +At Anna Pavlovna's on the twenty-sixth of August, the very day of +the battle of Borodino, there was a soiree, the chief feature of which +was to be the reading of a letter from His Lordship the Bishop when +sending the Emperor an icon of the Venerable Sergius. It was +regarded as a model of ecclesiastical, patriotic eloquence. Prince +Vasili himself, famed for his elocution, was to read it. (He used to +read at the Empress'.) The art of his reading was supposed to lie in +rolling out the words, quite independently of their meaning, in a loud +and singsong voice alternating between a despairing wail and a +tender murmur, so that the wail fell quite at random on one word and +the murmur on another. This reading, as was always the case at Anna +Pavlovna's soirees, had a political significance. That evening she +expected several important personages who had to be made ashamed of +their visits to the French theater and aroused to a patriotic +temper. A good many people had already arrived, but Anna Pavlovna, not +yet seeing all those whom she wanted in her drawing room, did not +let the reading begin but wound up the springs of a general +conversation. + +The news of the day in Petersburg was the illness of Countess +Bezukhova. She had fallen ill unexpectedly a few days previously, +had missed several gatherings of which she was usually ornament, and +was said to be receiving no one, and instead of the celebrated +Petersburg doctors who usually attended her had entrusted herself to +some Italian doctor who was treating her in some new and unusual way. + +They all knew very well that the enchanting countess' illness +arose from an inconvenience resulting from marrying two husbands at +the same time, and that the Italian's cure consisted in removing +such inconvenience; but in Anna Pavlovna's presence no one dared to +think of this or even appear to know it. + +"They say the poor countess is very ill. The doctor says it is +angina pectoris." + +"Angina? Oh, that's a terrible illness!" + +"They say that the rivals are reconciled, thanks to the angina..." +and the word angina was repeated with great satisfaction. + +"The count is pathetic, they say. He cried like a child when the +doctor told him the case was dangerous." + +"Oh, it would be a terrible loss, she is an enchanting woman." + +"You are speaking of the poor countess?" said Anna Pavlovna, +coming up just then. "I sent to ask for news, and hear that she is a +little better. Oh, she is certainly the most charming woman in the +world," she went on, with a smile at her own enthusiasm. "We belong to +different camps, but that does not prevent my esteeming her as she +deserves. She is very unfortunate!" added Anna Pavlovna. + +Supposing that by these words Anna Pavlovna was somewhat lifting the +veil from the secret of the countess' malady, an unwary young man +ventured to express surprise that well known doctors had not been +called in and that the countess was being attended by a charlatan +who might employ dangerous remedies. + +"Your information maybe better than mine," Anna Pavlovna suddenly +and venomously retorted on the inexperienced young man, "but I know on +good authority that this doctor is a very learned and able man. He +is private physician to the Queen of Spain." + +And having thus demolished the young man, Anna Pavlovna turned to +another group where Bilibin was talking about the Austrians: having +wrinkled up his face he was evidently preparing to smooth it out again +and utter one of his mots. + +"I think it is delightful," he said, referring to a diplomatic +note that had been sent to Vienna with some Austrian banners +captured from the French by Wittgenstein, "the hero of Petropol" as he +was then called in Petersburg. + +"What? What's that?" asked Anna Pavlovna, securing silence for the +mot, which she had heard before. + +And Bilibin repeated the actual words of the diplomatic dispatch, +which he had himself composed. + +"The Emperor returns these Austrian banners," said Bilibin, +"friendly banners gone astray and found on a wrong path," and his brow +became smooth again. + +"Charming, charming!" observed Prince Vasili. + +"The path to Warsaw, perhaps," Prince Hippolyte remarked loudly +and unexpectedly. Everybody looked at him, understanding what he +meant. Prince Hippolyte himself glanced around with amused surprise. +He knew no more than the others what his words meant. During his +diplomatic career he had more than once noticed that such utterances +were received as very witty, and at every opportunity he uttered in +that way the first words that entered his head. "It may turn out +very well," he thought, "but if not, they'll know how to arrange +matters." And really, during the awkward silence that ensued, that +insufficiently patriotic person entered whom Anna Pavlovna had been +waiting for and wished to convert, and she, smiling and shaking a +finger at Hippolyte, invited Prince Vasili to the table and bringing +him two candles and the manuscript begged him to begin. Everyone +became silent. + +"Most Gracious Sovereign and Emperor! " Prince Vasili sternly +declaimed, looking round at his audience as if to inquire whether +anyone had anything to say to the contrary. But no one said +anything. "Moscow, our ancient capital, the New Jerusalem, receives +her Christ"- he placed a sudden emphasis on the word her- "as a mother +receives her zealous sons into her arms, and through the gathering +mists, foreseeing the brilliant glory of thy rule, sings in +exultation, 'Hosanna, blessed is he that cometh!'" + +Prince Vasili pronounced these last words in a tearful voice. + +Bilibin attentively examined his nails, and many of those present +appeared intimidated, as if asking in what they were to blame. Anna +Pavlovna whispered the next words in advance, like an old woman +muttering the prayer at Communion: "Let the bold and insolent +Goliath..." she whispered. + +Prince Vasili continued. + +"Let the bold and insolent Goliath from the borders of France +encompass the realms of Russia with death-bearing terrors; humble +Faith, the sling of the Russian David, shall suddenly smite his head +in his blood-thirsty pride. This icon of the Venerable Sergius, the +servant of God and zealous champion of old of our country's weal, is +offered to Your Imperial Majesty. I grieve that my waning strength +prevents rejoicing in the sight of your most gracious presence. I +raise fervent prayers to Heaven that the Almighty may exalt the race +of the just, and mercifully fulfill the desires of Your Majesty." + +"What force! What a style!" was uttered in approval both of reader +and of author. + +Animated by that address Anna Pavlovna's guests talked for a long +time of the state of the fatherland and offered various conjectures as +to the result of the battle to be fought in a few days. + +"You will see," said Anna Pavlovna, "that tomorrow, on the Emperor's +birthday, we shall receive news. I have a favorable presentiment!" + +CHAPTER II + +Anna Pavlovna's presentiment was in fact fulfilled. Next day +during the service at the palace church in honor of the Emperor's +birthday, Prince Volkonski was called out of the church and received a +dispatch from Prince Kutuzov. It was Kutuzov's report, written from +Tatarinova on the day of the battle. Kutuzov wrote that the Russians +had not retreated a step, that the French losses were much heavier +than ours, and that he was writing in haste from the field of battle +before collecting full information. It followed that there must have +been a victory. And at once, without leaving the church, thanks were +rendered to the Creator for His help and for the victory. + +Anna Pavlovna's presentiment was justified, and all that morning a +joyously festive mood reigned in the city. Everyone believed the +victory to have been complete, and some even spoke of Napoleon's +having been captured, of his deposition, and of the choice of a new +ruler for France. + +It is very difficult for events to be reflected in their real +strength and completeness amid the conditions of court life and far +from the scene of action. General events involuntarily group +themselves around some particular incident. So now the courtiers' +pleasure was based as much on the fact that the news had arrived on +the Emperor's birthday as on the fact of the victory itself. It was +like a successfully arranged surprise. Mention was made in Kutuzov's +report of the Russian losses, among which figured the names of +Tuchkov, Bagration, and Kutaysov. In the Petersburg world this sad +side of the affair again involuntarily centered round a single +incident: Kutaysov's death. Everybody knew him, the Emperor liked him, +and he was young and interesting. That day everyone met with the +words: + +"What a wonderful coincidence! Just during the service. But what a +loss Kutaysov is! How sorry I am!" + +"What did I tell about Kutuzov?" Prince Vasili now said with a +prophet's pride. "I always said he was the only man capable of +defeating Napoleon." + +But next day no news arrived from the army and the public mood +grew anxious. The courtiers suffered because of the suffering the +suspense occasioned the Emperor. + +"Fancy the Emperor's position!" said they, and instead of +extolling Kutuzov as they had done the day before, they condemned +him as the cause of the Emperor's anxiety. That day Prince Vasili no +longer boasted of his protege Kutuzov, but remained silent when the +commander in chief was mentioned. Moreover, toward evening, as if +everything conspired to make Petersburg society anxious and uneasy, +a terrible piece of news was added. Countess Helene Bezukhova had +suddenly died of that terrible malady it had been so agreeable to +mention. Officially, at large gatherings, everyone said that +Countess Bezukhova had died of a terrible attack of angina pectoris, +but in intimate circles details were mentioned of how the private +physician of the Queen of Spain had prescribed small doses of a +certain drug to produce a certain effect; but Helene, tortured by +the fact that the old count suspected her and that her husband to whom +she had written (that wretched, profligate Pierre) had not replied, +had suddenly taken a very large dose of the drug, and had died in +agony before assistance could be rendered her. It was said that Prince +Vasili and the old count had turned upon the Italian, but the latter +had produced such letters from the unfortunate deceased that they +had immediately let the matter drop. + +Talk in general centered round three melancholy facts: the Emperor's +lack of news, the loss of Kutuzov, and the death of Helene. + +On the third day after Kutuzov's report a country gentleman +arrived from Moscow, and news of the surrender of Moscow to the French +spread through the whole town. This was terrible! What a position +for the Emperor to be in! Kutuzov was a traitor, and Prince Vasili +during the visits of condolence paid to him on the occasion of his +daughter's death said of Kutuzov, whom he had formerly praised (it was +excusable for him in his grief to forget what he had said), that it +was impossible to expect anything else from a blind and depraved old +man. + +"I only wonder that the fate of Russia could have been entrusted +to such a man." + +As long as this news remained unofficial it was possible to doubt +it, but the next day the following communication was received from +Count Rostopchin: + +Prince Kutuzov's adjutant has brought me a letter in which he +demands police officers to guide the army to the Ryazan road. He +writes that he is regretfully abandoning Moscow. Sire! Kutuzov's +action decides the fate of the capital and of your empire! Russia will +shudder to learn of the abandonment of the city in which her greatness +is centered and in which lie the ashes of your ancestors! I shall +follow the army. I have had everything removed, and it only remains +for me to weep over the fate of my fatherland. + +On receiving this dispatch the Emperor sent Prince Volkonski to +Kutuzov with the following rescript: + +Prince Michael Ilarionovich! Since the twenty-ninth of August I have +received no communication from you, yet on the first of September I +received from the commander in chief of Moscow, via Yaroslavl, the sad +news that you, with the army, have decided to abandon Moscow. You +can yourself imagine the effect this news has had on me, and your +silence increases my astonishment. I am sending this by +Adjutant-General Prince Volkonski, to hear from you the situation of +the army and the reasons that have induced you to take this melancholy +decision. + +CHAPTER III + +Nine days after the abandonment of Moscow, a messenger from +Kutuzov reached Petersburg with the official announcement of that +event. This messenger was Michaud, a Frenchman who did not know +Russian, but who was quoique etranger, russe de coeur et d'ame,~^ as he +said of himself. + +^~ Though a foreigner, Russian in heart and soul. + +The Emperor at once received this messenger in his study at the +palace on Stone Island. Michaud, who had never seen Moscow before +the campaign and who did not know Russian, yet felt deeply moved (as +he wrote) when he appeared before notre tres gracieux souverain~^ +with the news of the burning of Moscow, dont les flammes eclairaient +sa route.~^ + +^~ Our most gracious sovereign. + +^~ Whose flames illumined his route. + +Though the source of M. Michaud's chagrin must have been different +from that which caused Russians to grieve, he had such a sad face when +shown into the Emperor's study that the latter at once asked: + +"Have you brought me sad news, Colonel?" + +"Very sad, sire," replied Michaud, lowering his eyes with a sigh. +"The abandonment of Moscow." + +"Have they surrendered my ancient capital without a battle?" asked +the Emperor quickly, his face suddenly flushing. + +Michaud respectfully delivered the message Kutuzov had entrusted +to him, which was that it had been impossible to fight before +Moscow, and that as the only remaining choice was between losing the +army as well as Moscow, or losing Moscow alone, the field marshal +had to choose the latter. + +The Emperor listened in silence, not looking at Michaud. + +"Has the enemy entered the city?" he asked. + +"Yes, sire, and Moscow is now in ashes. I left it all in flames," +replied Michaud in a decided tone, but glancing at the Emperor he +was frightened by what he had done. + +The Emperor began to breathe heavily and rapidly, his lower lip +trembled, and tears instantly appeared in his fine blue eyes. + +But this lasted only a moment. He suddenly frowned, as if blaming +himself for his weakness, and raising his head addressed Michaud in +a firm voice: + +"I see, Colonel, from all that is happening, that Providence +requires great sacrifices of us... I am ready to submit myself in +all things to His will; but tell me, Michaud, how did you leave the +army when it saw my ancient capital abandoned without a battle? Did +you not notice discouragement?..." + +Seeing that his most gracious ruler was calm once more, Michaud also +grew calm, but was not immediately ready to reply to the Emperor's +direct and relevant question which required a direct answer. + +"Sire, will you allow me to speak frankly as befits a loyal +soldier?" he asked to gain time. + +"Colonel, I always require it," replied the Emperor. "Conceal +nothing from me, I wish to know absolutely how things are." + +"Sire!" said Michaud with a subtle, scarcely perceptible smile on +his lips, having now prepared a well-phrased reply, "sire, I left +the whole army, from its chiefs to the lowest soldier, without +exception in desperate and agonized terror..." + +"How is that?" the Emperor interrupted him, frowning sternly. "Would +misfortune make my Russians lose heart?... Never!" + +Michaud had only waited for this to bring out the phrase he had +prepared. + +"Sire," he said, with respectful playfulness, "they are only +afraid lest Your Majesty, in the goodness of your heart, should +allow yourself to be persuaded to make peace. They are burning for the +combat," declared this representative of the Russian nation, "and to +prove to Your Majesty by the sacrifice of their lives how devoted they +are...." + +"Ah!" said the Emperor reassured, and with a kindly gleam in his +eyes, he patted Michaud on the shoulder. "You set me at ease, +Colonel." + +He bent his head and was silent for some time. + +"Well, then, go back to the army," he said, drawing himself up to +his full height and addressing Michaud with a gracious and majestic +gesture, "and tell our brave men and all my good subjects wherever you +go that when I have not a soldier left I shall put myself at the +head of my beloved nobility and my good peasants and so use the last +resources of my empire. It still offers me more than my enemies +suppose," said the Emperor growing more and more animated; "but should +it ever be ordained by Divine Providence," he continued, raising to +heaven his fine eyes shining with emotion, "that my dynasty should +cease to reign on the throne of my ancestors, then after exhausting +all the means at my command, I shall let my beard grow to here" (he +pointed halfway down his chest) "and go and eat potatoes with the +meanest of my peasants, rather than sign the disgrace of my country +and of my beloved people whose sacrifices I know how to appreciate." + +Having uttered these words in an agitated voice the Emperor suddenly +turned away as if to hide from Michaud the tears that rose to his +eyes, and went to the further end of his study. Having stood there a +few moments, he strode back to Michaud and pressed his arm below the +elbow with a vigorous movement. The Emperor's mild and handsome face +was flushed and his eyes gleamed with resolution and anger. + +"Colonel Michaud, do not forget what I say to you here, perhaps we +may recall it with pleasure someday... Napoleon or I," said the +Emperor, touching his breast. "We can no longer both reign together. I +have learned to know him, and he will not deceive me any more...." + +And the Emperor paused, with a frown. + +When he heard these words and saw the expression of firm +resolution in the Emperor's eyes, Michaud- quoique etranger, russe +de coeur et d'ame- at that solemn moment felt himself enraptured by +all that he had heard (as he used afterwards to say), and gave +expression to his own feelings and those of the Russian people whose +representative he considered himself to be, in the following words: + +"Sire!" said he, "Your Majesty is at this moment signing the glory +of the nation and the salvation of Europe!" + +With an inclination of the head the Emperor dismissed him. + +CHAPTER IV + +It is natural for us who were not living in those days to imagine +that when half Russia had been conquered and the inhabitants were +ficeing to distant provinces, and one levy after another was being +raised for the defense of the fatherland, all Russians from the +greatest to the least were solely engaged in sacrificing themselves, +saving their fatherland, or weeping over its downfall. The tales and +descriptions of that time without exception speak only of the +self-sacrifice, patriotic devotion, despair, grief, and the heroism of +the Russians. But it was not really so. It appears so to us because we +see only the general historic interest of that time and do not see all +the personal human interests that people had. Yet in reality those +personal interests of the moment so much transcend the general +interests that they always prevent the public interest from being felt +or even noticed. Most of the people at that time paid no attention +to the general progress of events but were guided only by their +private interests, and they were the very people whose activities at +that period were most useful. + +Those who tried to understand the general course of events and to +take part in it by self-sacrifice and heroism were the most useless +members of society, they saw everything upside down, and all they +did for the common good turned out to be useless and foolish- like +Pierre's and Mamonov's regiments which looted Russian villages, and +the lint the young ladies prepared and that never reached the wounded, +and so on. Even those, fond of intellectual talk and of expressing +their feelings, who discussed Russia's position at the time +involuntarily introduced into their conversation either a shade of +pretense and falsehood or useless condemnation and anger directed +against people accused of actions no one could possibly be guilty +of. In historic events the rule forbidding us to eat of the fruit of +the Tree of Knowledge is specially applicable. Only unconscious action +bears fruit, and he who plays a part in an historic event never +understands its significance. If he tries to realize it his efforts +are fruitless. + +The more closely a man was engaged in the events then taking place +in Russia the less did he realize their significance. In Petersburg +and in the provinces at a distance from Moscow, ladies, and +gentlemen in militia uniforms, wept for Russia and its ancient capital +and talked of self-sacrifice and so on; but in the army which +retired beyond Moscow there was little talk or thought of Moscow, +and when they caught sight of its burned ruins no one swore to be +avenged on the French, but they thought about their next pay, their +next quarters, of Matreshka the vivandiere, and like matters. + +As the war had caught him in the service, Nicholas Rostov took a +close and prolonged part in the defense of his country, but did so +casually, without any aim at self-sacrifice, and he therefore looked +at what was going on in Russia without despair and without dismally +racking his brains over it. Had he been asked what he thought of the +state of Russia, he would have said that it was not his business to +think about it, that Kutuzov and others were there for that purpose, +but that he had heard that the regiments were to be made up to their +full strength, that fighting would probably go on for a long time yet, +and that things being so it was quite likely he might be in command of +a regiment in a couple of years' time. + +As he looked at the matter in this way, he learned that he was being +sent to Voronezh to buy remounts for his division, not only without +regret at being prevented from taking part in the coming battle, but +with the greatest pleasure- which he did not conceal and which his +comrades fully understood. + +A few days before the battle of Borodino, Nicholas received the +necessary money and warrants, and having sent some hussars on in +advance, he set out with post horses for Voronezh. + +Only a man who has experienced it- that is, has passed some months +continuously in an atmosphere of campaigning and war- can understand +the delight Nicholas felt when he escaped from the region covered by +the army's foraging operations, provision trains, and hospitals. When- +free from soldiers, wagons, and the filthy traces of a camp- he saw +villages with peasants and peasant women, gentlemen's country +houses, fields where cattle were grazing, posthouses with +stationmasters asleep in them, he rejoiced as though seeing all this +for the first time. What for a long while specially surprised and +delighted him were the women, young and healthy, without a dozen +officers making up to each of them; women, too, who were pleased and +flattered that a passing officer should joke with them. + +In the highest spirits Nicholas arrived at night at a hotel in +Voronezh, ordered things he had long been deprived of in camp, and +next day, very clean-shaven and in a full-dress uniform he had not +worn for a long time, went to present himself to the authorities. + +The commander of the militia was a civilian general, an old man +who was evidently pleased with his military designation and rank. He +received Nicholas brusquely (imagining this to be characteristically +military) and questioned him with an important air, as if +considering the general progress of affairs and approving and +disapproving with full right to do so. Nicholas was in such good +spirits that this merely amused him. + +From the commander of the militia he drove to the governor. The +governor was a brisk little man, very simple and affable. He indicated +the stud farms at which Nicholas might procure horses, recommended +to him a horse dealer in the town and a landowner fourteen miles out +of town who had the best horses, and promised to assist him in every +way. + +"You are Count Ilya Rostov's son? My wife was a great friend of your +mother's. We are at home on Thursdays- today is Thursday, so please +come and see us quite informally," said the governor, taking leave +of him. + +Immediately on leaving the governor's, Nicholas hired post horses +and, taking his squadron quartermaster with him, drove at a gallop +to the landowner, fourteen miles away, who had the stud. Everything +seemed to him pleasant and easy during that first part of his stay +in Voronezh and, as usually happens when a man is in a pleasant +state of mind, everything went well and easily. + +The landowner to whom Nicholas went was a bachelor, an old +cavalryman, a horse fancier, a sportsman, the possessor of some +century-old brandy and some old Hungarian wine, who had a snuggery +where he smoked, and who owned some splendid horses. + +In very few words Nicholas bought seventeen picked stallions for six +thousand rubles- to serve, as he said, as samples of his remounts. +After dining and taking rather too much of the Hungarian wine, +Nicholas- having exchanged kisses with the landowner, with whom he was +already on the friendliest terms- galloped back over abominable roads, +in the brightest frame of mind, continually urging on the driver so as +to be in time for the governor's party. + +When he had changed, poured water over his head, and scented +himself, Nicholas arrived at the governor's rather late, but with +the phrase "better late than never" on his lips. + +It was not a ball, nor had dancing been announced, but everyone knew +that Catherine Petrovna would play valses and the ecossaise on the +clavichord and that there would be dancing, and so everyone had come +as to a ball. + +Provincial life in 1812 went on very much as usual, but with this +difference, that it was livelier in the towns in consequence of the +arrival of many wealthy families from Moscow, and as in everything +that went on in Russia at that time a special recklessness was +noticeable, an "in for a penny, in for a pound- who cares?" spirit, +and the inevitable small talk, instead of turning on the weather and +mutual acquaintances, now turned on Moscow, the army, and Napoleon. + +The society gathered together at the governor's was the best in +Voronezh. + +There were a great many ladies and some of Nicholas' Moscow +acquaintances, but there were no men who could at all vie with the +cavalier of St. George, the hussar remount officer, the good-natured +and well-bred Count Rostov. Among the men was an Italian prisoner, +an officer of the French army; and Nicholas felt that the presence +of that prisoner enhanced his own importance as a Russian hero. The +Italian was, as it were, a war trophy. Nicholas felt this, it seemed +to him that everyone regarded the Italian in the same light, and he +treated him cordially though with dignity and restraint. + +As soon as Nicholas entered in his hussar uniform, diffusing +around him a fragrance of perfume and wine, and had uttered the +words "better late than never" and heard them repeated several times +by others, people clustered around him; all eyes turned on him, and he +felt at once that he had entered into his proper position in the +province- that of a universal favorite: a very pleasant position, +and intoxicatingly so after his long privations. At posting +stations, at inns, and in the landowner's snuggery, maidservants had +been flattered by his notice, and here too at the governor's party +there were (as it seemed to Nicholas) an inexhaustible number of +pretty young women, married and unmarried, impatiently awaiting his +notice. The women and girls flirted with him and, from the first +day, the people concerned themselves to get this fine young +daredevil of an hussar married and settled down. Among these was the +governor's wife herself, who welcomed Rostov as a near relative and +called him "Nicholas." + +Catherine Petrovna did actually play valses and the ecossaise, and +dancing began in which Nicholas still further captivated the +provincial society by his agility. His particularly free manner of +dancing even surprised them all. Nicholas was himself rather surprised +at the way he danced that evening. He had never danced like that in +Moscow and would even have considered such a very free and easy manner +improper and in bad form, but here he felt it incumbent on him to +astonish them all by something unusual, something they would have to +accept as the regular thing in the capital though new to them in the +provinces. + +All the evening Nicholas paid attention to a blue-eyed, plump and +pleasing little blonde, the wife of one of the provincial officials. +With the naive conviction of young men in a merry mood that other +men's wives were created for them, Rostov did not leave the lady's +side and treated her husband in a friendly and conspiratorial style, +as if, without speaking of it, they knew how capitally Nicholas and +the lady would get on together. The husband, however, did not seem +to share that conviction and tried to behave morosely with Rostov. But +the latter's good-natured naivete was so boundless that sometimes even +he involuntarily yielded to Nicholas' good humor. Toward the end of +the evening, however, as the wife's face grew more flushed and +animated, the husband's became more and more melancholy and solemn, as +though there were but a given amount of animation between them and +as the wife's share increased the husband's diminished. + +CHAPTER V + +Nicholas sat leaning slightly forward in an armchair, bending +closely over the blonde lady and paying her mythological compliments +with a smile that never left his face. Jauntily shifting the +position of his legs in their tight riding breeches, diffusing an odor +of perfume, and admiring his partner, himself, and the fine outlines +of his legs in their well-fitting Hessian boots, Nicholas told the +blonde lady that he wished to run away with a certain lady here in +Voronezh. + +"Which lady?" + +"A charming lady, a divine one. Her eyes" (Nicholas looked at his +partner) "are blue, her mouth coral and ivory; her figure" (he glanced +at her shoulders) "like Diana's...." + +The husband came up and sullenly asked his wife what she was talking +about. + +"Ah, Nikita Ivanych!" cried Nicholas, rising politely, and as if +wishing Nikita Ivanych to share his joke, he began to tell him of +his intention to elope with a blonde lady. + +The husband smiled gloomily, the wife gaily. The governor's +good-natured wife came up with a look of disapproval. + +"Anna Ignatyevna wants to see you, Nicholas," said she, +pronouncing the name so that Nicholas at once understood that Anna +Ignatyevna was a very important person. "Come, Nicholas! You know +you let me call you so?" + +"Oh, yes, Aunt. Who is she?" + +"Anna Ignatyevna Malvintseva. She has heard from her niece how you +rescued her... Can you guess?" + +"I rescued such a lot of them!" said Nicholas. + +"Her niece, Princess Bolkonskaya. She is here in Voronezh with her +aunt. Oho! How you blush. Why, are...?" + +"Not a bit! Please don't, Aunt!" + +"Very well, very well!... Oh, what a fellow you are!" + +The governor's wife led him up to a tall and very stout old lady +with a blue headdress, who had just finished her game of cards with +the most important personages of the town. This was Malvintseva, +Princess Mary's aunt on her mother's side, a rich, childless widow who +always lived in Voronezh. When Rostov approached her she was +standing settling up for the game. She looked at him and, screwing +up her eyes sternly, continued to upbraid the general who had won from +her. + +"Very pleased, mon cher," she then said, holding out her hand to +Nicholas. "Pray come and see me." + +After a few words about Princess Mary and her late father, whom +Malvintseva had evidently not liked, and having asked what Nicholas +knew of Prince Andrew, who also was evidently no favorite of hers, the +important old lady dismissed Nicholas after repeating her invitation +to come to see her. + +Nicholas promised to come and blushed again as he bowed. At the +mention of Princess Mary he experienced a feeling of shyness and +even of fear, which he himself did not understand. + +When he had parted from Malvintseva Nicholas wished to return to the +dancing, but the governor's little wife placed her plump hand on his +sleeve and, saying that she wanted to have a talk with him, led him to +her sitting room, from which those who were there immediately withdrew +so as not to be in her way. + +"Do you know, dear boy," began the governor's wife with a serious +expression on her kind little face, "that really would be the match +for you: would you like me to arrange it?" + +"Whom do you mean, Aunt?" asked Nicholas. + +"I will make a match for you with the princess. Catherine Petrovna +speaks of Lily, but I say, no- the princess! Do you want me to do +it? I am sure your mother will be grateful to me. What a charming girl +she is, really! And she is not at all so plain, either." + +"Not at all," replied Nicholas as if offended at the idea. "As +befits a soldier, Aunt, I don't force myself on anyone or refuse +anything," he said before he had time to consider what he was saying. + +"Well then, remember, this is not a joke!" + +"Of course not!" + +"Yes, yes," the governor's wife said as if talking to herself. "But, +my dear boy, among other things you are too attentive to the other, +the blonde. One is sorry for the husband, really...." + +"Oh no, we are good friends with him," said Nicholas in the +simplicity of his heart; it did not enter his head that a pastime so +pleasant to himself might not be pleasant to someone else. + +"But what nonsense I have been saying to the governor's wife!" +thought Nicholas suddenly at supper. "She will really begin to arrange +a match... and Soyna...?" And on taking leave of the governor's +wife, when she again smilingly said to him, "Well then, remember!" +he drew her aside. + +"But see here, to tell the truth, Aunt..." + +"What is it, my dear? Come, let's sit down here," said she. + +Nicholas suddenly felt a desire and need to tell his most intimate +thoughts (which he would not have told to his mother, his sister, or +his friend) to this woman who was almost a stranger. When he +afterwards recalled that impulse to unsolicited and inexplicable +frankness which had very important results for him, it seemed to +him- as it seems to everyone in such cases- that it was merely some +silly whim that seized him: yet that burst of frankness, together with +other trifling events, had immense consequences for him and for all +his family. + +"You see, Aunt, Mamma has long wanted me to marry an heiress, but +the very idea of marrying for money is repugnant to me." + +"Oh yes, I understand," said the governor's wife. + +"But Princess Bolkonskaya- that's another matter. I will tell you +the truth. In the first place I like her very much, I feel drawn to +her; and then, after I met her under such circumstances- so strangely, +the idea often occurred to me: 'This is fate.' Especially if you +remember that Mamma had long been thinking of it; but I had never +happened to meet her before, somehow it had always happened that we +did not meet. And as long as my sister Natasha was engaged to her +brother it was of course out of the question for me to think of +marrying her. And it must needs happen that I should meet her just +when Natasha's engagement had been broken off... and then +everything... So you see... I never told this to anyone and never +will, only to you." + +The governor's wife pressed his elbow gratefully. + +"You know Sonya, my cousin? I love her, and promised to marry her, +and will do so.... So you see there can be no question about-" said +Nicholas incoherently and blushing. + +"My dear boy, what a way to look at it! You know Sonya has nothing +and you yourself say your Papa's affairs are in a very bad way. And +what about your mother? It would kill her, that's one thing. And +what sort of life would it be for Sonya- if she's a girl with a heart? +Your mother in despair, and you all ruined.... No, my dear, you and +Sonya ought to understand that." + +Nicholas remained silent. It comforted him to hear these arguments. + +"All the same, Aunt, it is impossible," he rejoined with a sigh, +after a short pause. "Besides, would the princess have me? And +besides, she is now in mourning. How can one think of it!" + +"But you don't suppose I'm going to get you married at once? There +is always a right way of doing things," replied the governor's wife. + +"What a matchmaker you are, Aunt..." said Nicholas, kissing her +plump little hand. + +CHAPTER VI + +On reaching Moscow after her meeting with Rostov, Princess Mary +had found her nephew there with his tutor, and a letter from Prince +Andrew giving her instructions how to get to her Aunt Malvintseva at +Voronezh. That feeling akin to temptation which had tormented her +during her father's illness, since his death, and especially since her +meeting with Rostov was smothered by arrangements for the journey, +anxiety about her brother, settling in a new house, meeting new +people, and attending to her nephew's education. She was sad. Now, +after a month passed in quiet surroundings, she felt more and more +deeply the loss of her father which was associated in her mind with +the ruin of Russia. She was agitated and incessantly tortured by the +thought of the dangers to which her brother, the only intimate +person now remaining to her, was exposed. She was worried too about +her nephew's education for which she had always felt herself +incompetent, but in the depths of her soul she felt at peace- a +peace arising from consciousness of having stifled those personal +dreams and hopes that had been on the point of awakening within her +and were related to her meeting with Rostov. + +The day after her party the governor's wife came to see +Malvintseva and, after discussing her plan with the aunt, remarked +that though under present circumstances a formal betrothal was, of +course, not to be thought of, all the same the young people might be +brought together and could get to know one another. Malvintseva +expressed approval, and the governor's wife began to speak of Rostov +in Mary's presence, praising him and telling how he had blushed when +Princess Mary's name was mentioned. But Princess Mary experienced a +painful rather than a joyful feeling- her mental tranquillity was +destroyed, and desires, doubts, self-reproach, and hopes reawoke. + +During the two days that elapsed before Rostov called, Princess Mary +continually thought of how she ought to behave to him. First she +decided not to come to the drawing room when he called to see her +aunt- that it would not be proper for her, in her deep mourning, to +receive visitors; then she thought this would be rude after what he +had done for her; then it occurred to her that her aunt and the +governor's wife had intentions concerning herself and Rostov- their +looks and words at times seemed to confirm this supposition- then +she told herself that only she, with her sinful nature, could think +this of them: they could not forget that situated as she was, while +still wearing deep mourning, such matchmaking would be an insult to +her and to her father's memory. Assuming that she did go down to see +him, Princess Mary imagined the words he would say to her and what she +would say to him, and these words sometimes seemed undeservedly cold +and then to mean too much. More than anything she feared lest the +confusion she felt might overwhelm her and betray her as soon as she +saw him. + +But when on Sunday after church the footman announced in the drawing +room that Count Rostov had called, the princess showed no confusion, +only a slight blush suffused her cheeks and her eyes lit up with a new +and radiant light. + +"You have met him, Aunt?" said she in a calm voice, unable herself +to understand that she could be outwardly so calm and natural. + +When Rostov entered the room, the princess dropped her eyes for an +instant, as if to give the visitor time to greet her aunt, and then +just as Nicholas turned to her she raised her head and met his look +with shining eyes. With a movement full of dignity and grace she +half rose with a smile of pleasure, held out her slender, delicate +hand to him, and began to speak in a voice in which for the first time +new deep womanly notes vibrated. Mademoiselle Bourienne, who was in +the drawing room, looked at Princess Mary in bewildered surprise. +Herself a consummate coquette, she could not have maneuvered better on +meeting a man she wished to attract. + +"Either black is particularly becoming to her or she really has +greatly improved without my having noticed it. And above all, what +tact and grace!" thought Mademoiselle Bourienne. + +Had Princess Mary been capable of reflection at that moment, she +would have been more surprised than Mademoiselle Bourienne at the +change that had taken place in herself. From the moment she recognized +that dear, loved face, a new life force took possession of her and +compelled her to speak and act apart from her own will. From the +time Rostov entered, her face became suddenly transformed. It was as +if a light had been kindled in a carved and painted lantern and the +intricate, skillful, artistic work on its sides, that previously +seemed dark, coarse, and meaningless, was suddenly shown up in +unexpected and striking beauty. For the first time all that pure, +spiritual, inward travail through which she had lived appeared on +the surface. All her inward labor, her dissatisfaction with herself, +her sufferings, her strivings after goodness, her meekness, love, +and self-sacrifice- all this now shone in those radiant eyes, in her +delicate smile, and in every trait of her gentle face. + +Rostov saw all this as clearly as if he had known her whole life. He +felt that the being before him was quite different from, and better +than, anyone he had met before, and above all better than himself. + +Their conversation was very simple and unimportant. They spoke of +the war, and like everyone else unconsciously exaggerated their sorrow +about it; they spoke of their last meeting- Nicholas trying to +change the subject- they talked of the governor's kind wife, of +Nicholas' relations, and of Princess Mary's. + +She did not talk about her brother, diverting the conversation as +soon as her aunt mentioned Andrew. Evidently she could speak of +Russia's misfortunes with a certain artificiality, but her brother was +too near her heart and she neither could nor would speak lightly of +him. Nicholas noticed this, as he noticed every shade of Princess +Mary's character with an observation unusual to him, and everything +confirmed his conviction that she was a quite unusual and +extraordinary being. Nicholas blushed and was confused when people +spoke to him about the princess (as she did when he was mentioned) and +even when he thought of her, but in her presence he felt quite at +ease, and said not at all what he had prepared, but what, quite +appropriately, occurred to him at the moment. + +When a pause occurred during his short visit, Nicholas, as is +usual when there are children, turned to Prince Andrew's little son, +caressing him and asking whether he would like to be an hussar. He +took the boy on his knee, played with him, and looked round at +Princess Mary. With a softened, happy, timid look she watched the +boy she loved in the arms of the man she loved. Nicholas also +noticed that look and, as if understanding it, flushed with pleasure +and began to kiss the boy with good natured playfulness. + +As she was in mourning Princess Mary did not go out into society, +and Nicholas did not think it the proper thing to visit her again; but +all the same the governor's wife went on with her matchmaking, passing +on to Nicholas the flattering things Princess Mary said of him and +vice versa, and insisting on his declaring himself to Princess Mary. +For this purpose she arranged a meeting between the young people at +the bishop's house before Mass. + +Though Rostov told the governeor's wife that he would not make any +declaration to Princess Mary, he promised to go. + +As at Tilsit Rostov had not allowed himself to doubt that what +everybody considered right was right, so now, after a short but +sincere struggle between his effort to arrange his life by his own +sense of justice, and in obedient submission to circumstances, he +chose the latter and yielded to the power he felt irresistibly +carrying him he knew not where. He knew that after his promise to +Sonya it would be what he deemed base to declare his feelings to +Princess Mary. And he knew that he would never act basely. But he also +knew (or rather felt at the bottom of his heart) that by resigning +himself now to the force of circumstances and to those who were +guiding him, he was not only doing nothing wrong, but was doing +something very important- more important than anything he had ever +done in his life. + +After meeting Princess Mary, though the course of his life went on +externally as before, all his former amusements lost their charm for +him and he often thought about her. But he never thought about her +as he had thought of all the young ladies without exception whom he +had met in society, nor as he had for a long time, and at one time +rapturously, thought about Sonya. He had pictured each of those +young ladies as almost all honest-hearted young men do, that is, as +a possible wife, adapting her in his imagination to all the conditions +of married life: a white dressing gown, his wife at the tea table, his +wife's carriage, little ones, Mamma and Papa, their relations to +her, and so on- and these pictures of the future had given him +pleasure. But with Princess Mary, to whom they were trying to get +him engaged, he could never picture anything of future married life. +If he tried, his pictures seemed incongruous and false. It made him +afraid. + +CHAPTER VII + +The dreadful news of the battle of Borodino, of our losses in killed +and wounded, and the still more terrible news of the loss of Moscow +reached Voronezh in the middle of September. Princess Mary, having +learned of her brother's wound only from the Gazette and having no +definite news of him, prepared (so Nicholas heard, he had not seen her +again himself) to set off in search of Prince Andrew. + +When he received the news of the battle of Borodino and the +abandonment of Moscow, Rostov was not seized with despair, anger, +the desire for vengeance, or any feeling of that kind, but +everything in Voronezh suddenly seemed to him dull and tiresome, and +he experienced an indefinite feeling of shame and awkwardness. The +conversations he heard seemed to him insincere; he did not know how to +judge all these affairs and felt that only in the regiment would +everything again become clear to him. He made haste to finish buying +the horses, and often became unreasonably angry with his servant and +squadron quartermaster. + +A few days before his departure a special thanksgiving, at which +Nicholas was present, was held in the cathedral for the Russian +victory. He stood a little behind the governor and held himself with +military decorum through the service, meditating on a great variety of +subjects. When the service was over the governor's wife beckoned him +to her. + +"Have you seen the princess?" she asked, indicating with a +movement of her head a lady standing on the opposite side, beyond +the choir. + +Nicholas immediately recognized Princess Mary not so much by the +profile he saw under her bonnet as by the feeling of solicitude, +timidity, and pity that immediately overcame him. Princess Mary, +evidently engrossed by her thoughts, was crossing herself for the last +time before leaving the church. + +Nicholas looked at her face with surprise. It was the same face he +had seen before, there was the same general expression of refined, +inner, spiritual labor, but now it was quite differently lit up. There +was a pathetic expression of sorrow, prayer, and hope in it. As had +occurred before when she was present, Nicholas went up to her +without waiting to be prompted by the governor's wife and not asking +himself whether or not it was right and proper to address her here +in church, and told her he had heard of her trouble and sympathized +with his whole soul. As soon as she heard his voice a vivid glow +kindled in her face, lighting up both her sorrow and her joy. + +"There is one thing I wanted to tell you, Princess," said Rostov. +"It is that if your brother, Prince Andrew Nikolievich, were not +living, it would have been at once announced in the Gazette, as he +is a colonel." + +The princess looked at him, not grasping what he was saying, but +cheered by the expression of regretful sympathy on his face. + +"And I have known so many cases of a splinter wound" (the Gazette +said it was a shell) "either proving fatal at once or being very +slight," continued Nicholas. "We must hope for the best, and I am +sure..." + +Princess Mary interrupted him. + +"Oh, that would be so dread..." she began and, prevented by +agitation from finishing, she bent her head with a movement as +graceful as everything she did in his presence and, looking up at +him gratefully, went out, following her aunt. + +That evening Nicholas did not go out, but stayed at home to settle +some accounts with the horse dealers. When he had finished that +business it was already too late to go anywhere but still too early to +go to bed, and for a long time he paced up and down the room, +reflecting on his life, a thing he rarely did. + +Princess Mary had made an agreeable impression on him when he had +met her in Smolensk province. His having encountered her in such +exceptional circumstances, and his mother having at one time mentioned +her to him as a good match, had drawn his particular attention to her. +When he met her again in Voronezh the impression she made on him was +not merely pleasing but powerful. Nicholas had been struck by the +peculiar moral beauty he observed in her at this time. He was, +however, preparing to go away and it had not entered his head to +regret that he was thus depriving himself of chances of meeting her. +But that day's encounter in church had, he felt, sunk deeper than +was desirable for his peace of mind. That pale, sad, refined face, +that radiant look, those gentle graceful gestures, and especially +the deep and tender sorrow expressed in all her features agitated +him and evoked his sympathy. In men Rostov could not bear to see the +expression of a higher spiritual life (that was why he did not like +Prince Andrew) and he referred to it contemptuously as philosophy +and dreaminess, but in Princess Mary that very sorrow which revealed +the depth of a whole spiritual world foreign to him was an +irresistible attraction. + +"She must be a wonderful woman. A real angel!" he said to himself. +"Why am I not free? Why was I in such a hurry with Sonya?" And he +involuntarily compared the two: the lack of spirituality in the one +and the abundance of it in the other- a spirituality he himself lacked +and therefore valued most highly. He tried to picture what would +happen were he free. How he would propose to her and how she would +become his wife. But no, he could not imagine that. He felt awed, +and no clear picture presented itself to his mind. He had long ago +pictured to himself a future with Sonya, and that was all clear and +simple just because it had all been thought out and he knew all +there was in Sonya, but it was impossible to picture a future with +Princess Mary, because he did not understand her but simply loved her. + +Reveries about Sonya had had something merry and playful in them, +but to dream of Princess Mary was always difficult and a little +frightening. + +"How she prayed!" he thought. "It was plain that her whole soul +was in her prayer. Yes, that was the prayer that moves mountains, +and I am sure her prayer will be answered. Why don't I pray for what I +want?" he suddenly thought. "What do I want? To be free, released from +Sonya... She was right," he thought, remembering what the governor's +wife had said: "Nothing but misfortune can come of marrying Sonya. +Muddles, grief for Mamma... business difficulties... muddles, terrible +muddles! Besides, I don't love her- not as I should. O, God! release +me from this dreadful, inextricable position!" he suddenly began to +pray. "Yes, prayer can move mountains, but one must have faith and not +pray as Natasha and I used to as children, that the snow might turn +into sugar- and then run out into the yard to see whether it had +done so. No, but I am not praying for trifles now," he thought as he +put his pipe down in a corner, and folding his hands placed himself +before the icon. Softened by memories of Princess Mary he began to +pray as he had not done for a long time. Tears were in his eyes and in +his throat when the door opened and Lavrushka came in with some +papers. + +"Blockhead! Why do you come in without being called?" cried +Nicholas, quickly changing his attitude. + +"From the governor," said Lavrushka in a sleepy voice. "A courier +has arrived and there's a letter for you." + +"Well, all right, thanks. You can go!" + +Nicholas took the two letters, one of which was from his mother +and the other from Sonya. He recognized them by the handwriting and +opened Sonya's first. He had read only a few lines when he turned pale +and his eyes opened wide with fear and joy. + +"No, it's not possible!" he cried aloud. + +Unable to sit still he paced up and down the room holding the letter +and reading it. He glanced through it, then read it again, and then +again, and standing still in the middle of the room he raised his +shoulders, stretching out his hands, with his mouth wide open and +his eyes fixed. What he had just been praying for with confidence that +God would hear him had come to pass; but Nicholas was as much +astonished as if it were something extraordinary and unexpected, and +as if the very fact that it had happened so quickly proved that it had +not come from God to whom he had prayed, but by some ordinary +coincidence. + +This unexpected and, as it seemed to Nicholas, quite voluntary +letter from Sonya freed him from the knot that fettered him and from +which there had seemed no escape. She wrote that the last +unfortunate events- the loss of almost the whole of the Rostovs' +Moscow property- and the countess' repeatedly expressed wish that +Nicholas should marry Princess Bolkonskaya, together with his +silence and coldness of late, had all combined to make her decide to +release him from his promise and set him completely free. + +It would be too painful to me to think that I might be a cause of +sorrow or discord in the family that has been so good to me (she +wrote), and my love has no aim but the happiness of those I love; +so, Nicholas, I beg you to consider yourself free, and to be assured +that, in spite of everything, no one can love you more than does + +Your Sonya + +Both letters were written from Troitsa. The other, from the +countess, described their last days in Moscow, their departure, the +fire, and the destruction of all their property. In this letter the +countess also mentioned that Prince Andrew was among the wounded +traveling with them; his state was very critical, but the doctor +said there was now more hope. Sonya and Natasha were nursing him. + +Next day Nicholas took his mother's letter and went to see +Princess Mary. Neither he nor she said a word about what "Natasha +nursing him" might mean, but thanks to this letter Nicholas suddenly +became almost as intimate with the princess as if they were relations. + +The following day he saw Princess Mary off on her journey to +Yaroslavl, and a few days later left to rejoin his regiment. + +CHAPTER VIII + +Sonya's letter written from Troitsa, which had come as an answer +to Nicholas' prayer, was prompted by this: the thought of getting +Nicholas married to an heiress occupied the old countess' mind more +and more. She knew that Sonya was the chief obstacle to this +happening, and Sonya's life in the countess' house had grown harder +and harder, especially after they had received a letter from +Nicholas telling of his meeting with Princess Mary in Bogucharovo. The +countess let no occasion slip of making humiliating or cruel allusions +to Sonya. + +But a few days before they left Moscow, moved and excited by all +that was going on, she called Sonya to her and, instead of reproaching +and making demands on her, tearfully implored her to sacrifice herself +and repay all that the family had done for her by breaking off her +engagement with Nicholas. + +"I shall not be at peace till you promise me this." + +Sonya burst into hysterical tears and replied through her sobs +that she would do anything and was prepared for anything, but gave +no actual promise and could not bring herself to decide to do what was +demanded of her. She must sacrifice herself for the family that had +reared and brought her up. To sacrifice herself for others was Sonya's +habit. Her position in the house was such that only by sacrifice could +she show her worth, and she was accustomed to this and loved doing it. +But in all her former acts of self-sacrifice she had been happily +conscious that they raised her in her own esteem and in that of +others, and so made her more worthy of Nicholas whom she loved more +than anything in the world. But now they wanted her to sacrifice the +very thing that constituted the whole reward for her self-sacrifice +and the whole meaning of her life. And for the first time she felt +bitterness against those who had been her benefactors only to +torture her the more painfully; she felt jealous of Natasha who had +never experienced anything of this sort, had never needed to sacrifice +herself, but made others sacrifice themselves for her and yet was +beloved by everybody. And for the first time Sonya felt that out of +her pure, quiet love for Nicholas a passionate feeling was beginning +to grow up which was stronger than principle, virtue, or religion. +Under the influence of this feeling Sonya, whose life of dependence +had taught her involuntarily to be secretive, having answered the +countess in vague general terms, avoided talking with her and resolved +to wait till she should see Nicholas, not in order to set him free but +on the contrary at that meeting to bind him to her forever. + +The bustle and terror of the Rostovs' last days in Moscow stifled +the gloomy thoughts that oppressed Sonya. She was glad to find +escape from them in practical activity. But when she heard of Prince +Andrew's presence in their house, despite her sincere pity for him and +for Natasha, she was seized by a joyful and superstitious feeling that +God did not intend her to be separated from Nicholas. She knew that +Natasha loved no one but Prince Andrew and had never ceased to love +him. She knew that being thrown together again under such terrible +circumstances they would again fall in love with one another, and that +Nicholas would then not be able to marry Princess Mary as they would +be within the prohibited degrees of affinity. Despite all the terror +of what had happened during those last days and during the first +days of their journey, this feeling that Providence was intervening in +her personal affairs cheered Sonya. + +At the Troitsa monastery the Rostovs first broke their journey for a +whole day. + +Three large rooms were assigned to them in the monastery hostelry, +one of which was occupied by Prince Andrew. The wounded man was much +better that day and Natasha was sitting with him. In the next room sat +the count and countess respectfully conversing with the prior, who was +calling on them as old acquaintances and benefactors of the monastery. +Sonya was there too, tormented by curiosity as to what Prince Andrew +and Natasha were talking about. She heard the sound of their voices +through the door. That door opened and Natasha came out, looking +excited. Not noticing the monk, who had risen to greet her and was +drawing back the wide sleeve on his right arm, she went up to Sonya +and took her hand. + +"Natasha, what are you about? Come here!" said the countess. + +Natasha went up to the monk for his blessing, and advised her to +pray for aid to God and His saint. + +As soon as the prior withdrew, Natasha took her friend by the hand +and went with her into the unoccupied room. + +"Sonya, will he live?" she asked. "Sonya, how happy I am, and how +unhappy!... Sonya, dovey, everything is as it used to be. If only he +lives! He cannot... because... because... of" and Natasha burst into +tears. + +"Yes! I knew it! Thank God!" murmured Sonya. "He will live." + +Sonya was not less agitated than her friend by the latter's fear and +grief and by her own personal feelings which she shared with no one. +Sobbing, she kissed and comforted Natasha. "If only he lives!" she +thought. Having wept, talked, and wiped away their tears, the two +friends went together to Prince Andrew's door. Natasha opened it +cautiously and glanced into the room, Sonya standing beside her at the +half-open door. + +Prince Andrew was lying raised high on three pillows. His pale +face was calm, his eyes closed, and they could see his regular +breathing. + +"O, Natasha!" Sonya suddenly almost screamed, catching her +companion's arm and stepping back from the door. + +"What? What is it?" asked Natasha. + +"It's that, that..." said Sonya, with a white face and trembling +lips. + +Natasha softly closed the door and went with Sonya to the window, +not yet understanding what the latter was telling her. + +"You remember," said Sonya with a solemn and frightened +expression. "You remember when I looked in the mirror for you... at +Otradnoe at Christmas? Do you remember what I saw?" + +"Yes, yes!" cried Natasha opening her eyes wide, and vaguely +recalling that Sonya had told her something about Prince Andrew whom +she had seen lying down. + +"You remember?" Sonya went on. "I saw it then and told everybody, +you and Dunyasha. I saw him lying on a bed," said she, making a +gesture with her hand and a lifted finger at each detail, "and that he +had his eyes closed and was covered just with a pink quilt, and that +his hands were folded," she concluded, convincing herself that the +details she had just seen were exactly what she had seen in the +mirror. + +She had in fact seen nothing then but had mentioned the first +thing that came into her head, but what she had invented then seemed +to her now as real as any other recollection. She not only +remembered what she had then said- that he turned to look at her and +smiled and was covered with something red- but was firmly convinced +that she had then seen and said that he was covered with a pink +quilt and that his eyes were closed. + +"Yes, yes, it really was pink!" cried Natasha, who now thought she +too remembered the word pink being used, and saw in this the most +extraordinary and mysterious part of the prediction. + +"But what does it mean?" she added meditatively. + +"Oh, I don't know, it is all so strange," replied Sonya, clutching +at her head. + +A few minutes later Prince Andrew rang and Natasha went to him, +but Sonya, feeling unusually excited and touched, remained at the +window thinking about the strangeness of what had occurred. + +They had an opportunity that day to send letters to the army, and +the countess was writing to her son. + +"Sonya!" said the countess, raising her eyes from her letter as +her niece passed, "Sonya, won't you write to Nicholas?" She spoke in a +soft, tremulous voice, and in the weary eyes that looked over her +spectacles Sonya read all that the countess meant to convey with these +words. Those eyes expressed entreaty, shame at having to ask, fear +of a refusal, and readiness for relentless hatred in case of such +refusal. + +Sonya went up to the countess and, kneeling down, kissed her hand. + +"Yes, Mamma, I will write," said she. + +Sonya was softened, excited, and touched by all that had occurred +that day, especially by the mysterious fulfillment she had just seen +of her vision. Now that she knew that the renewal of Natasha's +relations with Prince Andrew would prevent Nicholas from marrying +Princess Mary, she was joyfully conscious of a return of that +self-sacrificing spirit in which she was accustomed to live and +loved to live. So with a joyful consciousness of performing a +magnanimous deed- interrupted several times by the tears that dimmed +her velvety black eyes- she wrote that touching letter the arrival +of which had so amazed Nicholas. + +CHAPTER IX + +The officer and soldiers who had arrested Pierre treated him with +hostility but yet with respect, in the guardhouse to which he was +taken. In their attitude toward him could still be felt both +uncertainty as to who he might be- perhaps a very important person- +and hostility as a result of their recent personal conflict with him. + +But when the guard was relieved next morning, Pierre felt that for +the new guard- both officers and men- he was not as interesting as +he had been to his captors; and in fact the guard of the second day +did not recognize in this big, stout man in a peasant coat the +vigorous person who had fought so desperately with the marauder and +the convoy and had uttered those solemn words about saving a child; +they saw in him only No. 17 of the captured Russians, arrested and +detained for some reason by order of the Higher Command. If they +noticed anything remarkable about Pierre, it was only his unabashed, +meditative concentration and thoughtfulness, and the way he spoke +French, which struck them as surprisingly good. In spite of this he +was placed that day with the other arrested suspects, as the +separate room he had occupied was required by an officer. + +All the Russians confined with Pierre were men of the lowest class +and, recognizing him as a gentleman, they all avoided him, more +especially as he spoke French. Pierre felt sad at hearing them +making fun of him. + +That evening he learned that all these prisoners (he, probably, +among them) were to be tried for incendiarism. On the third day he was +taken with the others to a house where a French general with a white +mustache sat with two colonels and other Frenchmen with scarves on +their arms. With the precision and definiteness customary in +addressing prisoners, and which is supposed to preclude human frailty, +Pierre like the others was questioned as to who he was, where he had +been, with what object, and so on. + +These questions, like questions put at trials generally, left the +essence of the matter aside, shut out the possibility of that +essence's being revealed, and were designed only to form a channel +through which the judges wished the answers of the accused to flow +so as to lead to the desired result, namely a conviction. As soon as +Pierre began to say anything that did not fit in with that aim, the +channel was removed and the water could flow to waste. Pierre felt, +moreover, what the accused always feel at their trial, perplexity as +to why these questions were put to him. He had a feeling that it was +only out of condescension or a kind of civility that this device of +placing a channel was employed. He knew he was in these men's power, +that only by force had they brought him there, that force alone gave +them the right to demand answers to their questions, and that the sole +object of that assembly was to inculpate him. And so, as they had +the power and wish to inculpate him, this expedient of an inquiry +and trial seemed unnecessary. It was evident that any answer would +lead to conviction. When asked what he was doing when he was arrested, +Pierre replied in a rather tragic manner that he was restoring to +its parents a child he had saved from the flames. Why had he fought +the marauder? Pierre answered that he "was protecting a woman," and +that "to protect a woman who was being insulted was the duty of +every man; that..." They interrupted him, for this was not to the +point. Why was he in the yard of a burning house where witnesses had +seen him? He replied that he had gone out to see what was happening in +Moscow. Again they interrupted him: they had not asked where he was +going, but why he was found near the fire? Who was he? they asked, +repeating their first question, which he had declined to answer. Again +he replied that he could not answer it. + +"Put that down, that's bad... very bad," sternly remarked the +general with the white mustache and red flushed face. + +On the fourth day fires broke out on the Zubovski rampart. + +Pierre and thirteen others were moved to the coach house of a +merchant's house near the Crimean bridge. On his way through the +streets Pierre felt stifled by the smoke which seemed to hang over the +whole city. Fires were visible on all sides. He did not then realize +the significance of the burning of Moscow, and looked at the fires +with horror. + +He passed four days in the coach house near the Crimean bridge and +during that time learned, from the talk of the French soldiers, that +all those confined there were awaiting a decision which might come any +day from the marshal. What marshal this was, Pierre could not learn +from the soldiers. Evidently for them "the marshal" represented a very +high and rather mysterious power. + +These first days, before the eighth of September when the +prisoners were had up for a second examination, were the hardest of +all for Pierre. + +CHAPTER X + +On the eighth of September an officer- a very important one +judging by the respect the guards showed him- entered the coach +house where the prisoners were. This officer, probably someone on +the staff, was holding a paper in his hand, and called over all the +Russians there, naming Pierre as "the man who does not give his name." +Glancing indolently and indifferently at all the prisoners, he ordered +the officer in charge to have them decently dressed and tidied up +before taking them to the marshal. An hour later a squad of soldiers +arrived and Pierre with thirteen others was led to the Virgin's Field. +It was a fine day, sunny after rain, and the air was unusually pure. +The smoke did not hang low as on the day when Pierre had been taken +from the guardhouse on the Zubovski rampart, but rose through the pure +air in columns. No flames were seen, but columns of smoke rose on +all sides, and all Moscow as far as Pierre could see was one vast +charred ruin. On all sides there were waste spaces with only stoves +and chimney stacks still standing, and here and there the blackened +walls of some brick houses. Pierre gazed at the ruins and did not +recognize districts he had known well. Here and there he could see +churches that had not been burned. The Kremlin, which was not +destroyed, gleamed white in the distance with its towers and the +belfry of Ivan the Great. The domes of the New Convent of the Virgin +glittered brightly and its bells were ringing particularly clearly. +These bells reminded Pierre that it was Sunday and the feast of the +Nativity of the Virgin. But there seemed to be no one to celebrate +this holiday: everywhere were blackened ruins, and the few Russians to +be seen were tattered and frightened people who tried to hide when +they saw the French. + +It was plain that the Russian nest was ruined and destroyed, but +in place of the Russian order of life that had been destroyed, +Pierre unconsciously felt that a quite different, firm, French order +had been established over this ruined nest. He felt this in the +looks of the soldiers who, marching in regular ranks briskly and +gaily, were escorting him and the other criminals; he felt it in the +looks of an important French official in a carriage and pair driven by +a soldier, whom they met on the way. He felt it in the merry sounds of +regimental music he heard from the left side of the field, and felt +and realized it especially from the list of prisoners the French +officer had read out when he came that morning. Pierre had been +taken by one set of soldiers and led first to one and then to +another place with dozens of other men, and it seemed that they +might have forgotten him, or confused him with the others. But no: the +answers he had given when questioned had come back to him in his +designation as "the man who does not give his name," and under that +appellation, which to Pierre seemed terrible, they were now leading +him somewhere with unhesitating assurance on their faces that he and +all the other prisoners were exactly the ones they wanted and that +they were being taken to the proper place. Pierre felt himself to be +an insignificant chip fallen among the wheels of a machine whose +action he did not understand but which was working well. + +He and the other prisoners were taken to the right side of the +Virgin's Field, to a large white house with an immense garden not +far from the convent. This was Prince Shcherbitov's house, where +Pierre had often been in other days, and which, as he learned from the +talk of the soldiers, was now occupied by the marshal, the Duke of +Eckmuhl (Davout). + +They were taken to the entrance and led into the house one by one. +Pierre was the sixth to enter. He was conducted through a glass +gallery, an anteroom, and a hall, which were familiar to him, into a +long low study at the door of which stood an adjutant. + +Davout, spectacles on nose, sat bent over a table at the further end +of the room. Pierre went close up to him, but Davout, evidently +consulting a paper that lay before him, did not look up. Without +raising his eyes, he said in a low voice: + +"Who are you?" + +Pierre was silent because he was incapable of uttering a word. To +him Davout was not merely a French general, but a man notorious for +his cruelty. Looking at his cold face, as he sat like a stern +schoolmaster who was prepared to wait awhile for an answer, Pierre +felt that every instant of delay might cost him his life; but he did +not know what to say. He did not venture to repeat what he had said at +his first examination, yet to disclose his rank and position was +dangerous and embarrassing. So he was silent. But before he had +decided what to do, Davout raised his head, pushed his spectacles back +on his forehead, screwed up his eyes, and looked intently at him. + +"I know that man," he said in a cold, measured tone, evidently +calculated to frighten Pierre. + +The chill that had been running down Pierre's back now seized his +head as in a vise. + +"You cannot know me, General, I have never seen you..." + +"He is a Russian spy," Davout interrupted, addressing another +general who was present, but whom Pierre had not noticed. + +Davout turned away. With an unexpected reverberation in his voice +Pierre rapidly began: + +"No, monseigneur," he said, suddenly remembering that Davout was a +duke. "No, monseigneur, you cannot have known me. I am a militia +officer and have not quitted Moscow." + +"Your name?" asked Davout. + +"Bezukhov." + +"What proof have I that you are not lying?" + +"Monseigneur!" exclaimed Pierre, not in an offended but in a +pleading voice. + +Davout looked up and gazed intently at him. For some seconds they +looked at one another, and that look saved Pierre. Apart from +conditions of war and law, that look established human relations +between the two men. At that moment an immense number of things passed +dimly through both their minds, and they realized that they were +both children of humanity and were brothers. + +At the first glance, when Davout had only raised his head from the +papers where human affairs and lives were indicated by numbers, Pierre +was merely a circumstance, and Davout could have shot him without +burdening his conscience with an evil deed, but now he saw in him a +human being. He reflected for a moment. + +"How can you show me that you are telling the truth?" said Davout +coldly. + +Pierre remembered Ramballe, and named him and his regiment and the +street where the house was. + +"You are not what you say," returned Davout. + +In a trembling, faltering voice Pierre began adducing proofs of +the truth of his statements. + +But at that moment an adjutant entered and reported something to +Davout. + +Davout brightened up at the news the adjutant brought, and began +buttoning up his uniform. It seemed that he had quite forgotten +Pierre. + +When the adjutant reminded him of the prisoner, he jerked his head +in Pierre's direction with a frown and ordered him to be led away. But +where they were to take him Pierre did not know: back to the coach +house or to the place of execution his companions had pointed out to +him as they crossed the Virgin's Field. + +He turned his head and saw that the adjutant was putting another +question to Davout. + +"Yes, of course!" replied Davout, but what this "yes" meant, +Pierre did not know. + +Pierre could not afterwards remember how he went, whether it was +far, or in which direction. His faculties were quite numbed, he was +stupefied, and noticing nothing around him went on moving his legs +as the others did till they all stopped and he stopped too. The only +thought in his mind at that time was: who was it that had really +sentenced him to death? Not the men on the commission that had first +examined him- not one of them wished to or, evidently, could have done +it. It was not Davout, who had looked at him in so human a way. In +another moment Davout would have realized that he was doing wrong, but +just then the adjutant had come in and interrupted him. The +adjutant, also, had evidently had no evil intent though he might +have refrained from coming in. Then who was executing him, killing +him, depriving him of life- him, Pierre, with all his memories, +aspirations, hopes, and thoughts? Who was doing this? And Pierre +felt that it was no one. + +It was a system- a concurrence of circumstances. + +A system of some sort was killing him- Pierre- depriving him of +life, of everything, annihilating him. + +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. + +Then two pairs of Frenchmen approached the criminals and at the +officer's command took the two convicts who stood first in the row. +The convicts stopped when they reached the post and, while sacks +were being brought, looked dumbly around as a wounded beast looks at +an approaching huntsman. One crossed himself continually, the other +scratched his back and made a movement of the lips resembling a smile. +With hurried hands the soldiers blindfolded them, drawing the sacks +over their heads, and bound them to the post. + +Twelve sharpshooters with muskets stepped out of the ranks with a +firm regular tread and halted eight paces from the post. Pierre turned +away to avoid seeing what was going to happen. Suddenly a crackling, +rolling noise was heard which seemed to him louder than the most +terrific thunder, and he looked round. There was some smoke, and the +Frenchmen were doing something near the pit, with pale faces and +trembling hands. Two more prisoners were led up. In the same way and +with similar looks, these two glanced vainly at the onlookers with +only a silent appeal for protection in their eyes, evidently unable to +understand or believe what was going to happen to them. They could not +believe it because they alone knew what their life meant to them, +and so they neither understood nor believed that it could be taken +from them. + +Again Pierre did not wish to look and again turned away; but again +the sound as of a frightful explosion struck his ear, and at the +same moment he saw smoke, blood, and the pale, scared faces of the +Frenchmen who were again doing something by the post, their +trembling hands impeding one another. Pierre, breathing heavily, +looked around as if asking what it meant. The same question was +expressed in all the looks that met his. + +On the faces of all the Russians and of the French soldiers and +officers without exception, he read the same dismay, horror, and +conflict that were in his own heart. "But who, after all, is doing +this? They are all suffering as I am. Who then is it? Who?" flashed +for an instant through his mind. + +"Sharpshooters of the 86th, forward!" shouted someone. The fifth +prisoner, the one next to Pierre, was led away- alone. Pierre did +not understand that he was saved, that he and the rest had been +brought there only to witness the execution. With ever-growing horror, +and no sense of joy or relief, he gazed at what was taking place. +The fifth man was the factory lad in the loose cloak. The moment +they laid hands on him he sprang aside in terror and clutched at +Pierre. (Pierre shuddered and shook himself free.) The lad was +unable to walk. They dragged him along, holding him up under the arms, +and he screamed. When they got him to the post he grew quiet, as if he +suddenly understood something. Whether he understood that screaming +was useless or whether he thought it incredible that men should kill +him, at any rate he took his stand at the post, waiting to be +blindfolded like the others, and like a wounded animal looked around +him with glittering eyes. + +Pierre was no longer able to turn away and close his eyes. His +curiosity and agitation, like that of the whole crowd, reached the +highest pitch at this fifth murder. Like the others this fifth man +seemed calm; he wrapped his loose cloak closer and rubbed one bare +foot with the other. + +When they began to blindfold him he himself adjusted the knot +which hurt the back of his head; then when they propped him against +the bloodstained post, he leaned back and, not being comfortable in +that position, straightened himself, adjusted his feet, and leaned +back again more comfortably. Pierre did not take his eyes from him and +did not miss his slightest movement. + +Probably a word of command was given and was followed by the reports +of eight muskets; but try as he would Pierre could not afterwards +remember having heard the slightest sound of the shots. He only saw +how the workman suddenly sank down on the cords that held him, how +blood showed itself in two places, how the ropes slackened under the +weight of the hanging body, and how the workman sat down, his head +hanging unnaturally and one leg bent under him. Pierre ran up to the +post. No one hindered him. Pale, frightened people were doing +something around the workman. The lower jaw of an old Frenchman with a +thick mustache trembled as he untied the ropes. The body collapsed. +The soldiers dragged it awkwardly from the post and began pushing it +into the pit. + +They all plainly and certainly knew that they were criminals who +must hide the traces of their guilt as quickly as possible. + +Pierre glanced into the pit and saw that the factory lad was lying +with his knees close up to his head and one shoulder higher than the +other. That shoulder rose and fell rhythmically and convulsively, +but spadefuls of earth were already being thrown over the whole +body. One of the soldiers, evidently suffering, shouted gruffly and +angrily at Pierre to go back. But Pierre did not understand him and +remained near the post, and no one drove him away. + +When the pit had been filled up a command was given. Pierre was +taken back to his place, and the rows of troops on both sides of the +post made a half turn and went past it at a measured pace. The +twenty-four sharpshooters with discharged muskets, standing in the +center of the circle, ran back to their places as the companies passed +by. + +Pierre gazed now with dazed eyes at these sharpshooters who ran in +couples out of the circle. All but one rejoined their companies. +This one, a young soldier, his face deadly pale, his shako pushed +back, and his musket resting on the ground, still stood near the pit +at the spot from which he had fired. He swayed like a drunken man, +taking some steps forward and back to save himself from falling. An +old, noncommissioned officer ran out of the ranks and taking him by +the elbow dragged him to his company. The crowd of Russians and +Frenchmen began to disperse. They all went away silently and with +drooping heads. + +"That will teach them to start fires," said one of the Frenchmen. + +Pierre glanced round at the speaker and saw that it was a soldier +who was trying to find some relief after what had been done, but was +not able to do so. Without finishing what he had begun to say he +made a hopeless movement with his arm and went away. + +CHAPTER XII + +After the execution Pierre was separated from the rest of the +prisoners and placed alone in a small, ruined, and befouled church. + +Toward evening a noncommissioned officer entered with two soldiers +and told him that he had been pardoned and would now go to the +barracks for the prisoners of war. Without understanding what was said +to him, Pierre got up and went with the soldiers. They took him to the +upper end of the field, where there were some sheds built of charred +planks, beams, and battens, and led him into one of them. In the +darkness some twenty different men surrounded Pierre. He looked at +them without understanding who they were, why they were there, or what +they wanted of him. He heard what they said, but did not understand +the meaning of the words and made no kind of deduction from or +application of them. He replied to questions they put to him, but +did not consider who was listening to his replies, nor how they +would understand them. He looked at their faces and figures, but +they all seemed to him equally meaningless. + +From the moment Pierre had witnessed those terrible murders +committed by men who did not wish to commit them, it was as if the +mainspring of his life, on which everything depended and which made +everything appear alive, had suddenly been wrenched out and everything +had collapsed into a heap of meaningless rubbish. Though he did not +acknowledge it to himself, his faith in the right ordering of the +universe, in humanity, in his own soul, and in God, had been +destroyed. He had experienced this before, but never so strongly as +now. When similar doubts had assailed him before, they had been the +result of his own wrongdoing, and at the bottom of his heart he had +felt that relief from his despair and from those doubts was to be +found within himself. But now he felt that the universe had crumbled +before his eyes and only meaningless ruins remained, and this not by +any fault of his own. He felt that it was not in his power to regain +faith in the meaning of life. + +Around him in the darkness men were standing and evidently something +about him interested them greatly. They were telling him something and +asking him something. Then they led him away somewhere, and at last he +found himself in a corner of the shed among men who were laughing +and talking on all sides. + +"Well, then, mates... that very prince who..." some voice at the +other end of the shed was saying, with a strong emphasis on the word +who. + +Sitting silent and motionless on a heap of straw against the wall, +Pierre sometimes opened and sometimes closed his eyes. But as soon +as he closed them he saw before him the dreadful face of the factory +lad- especially dreadful because of its simplicity- and the faces of +the murderers, even more dreadful because of their disquiet. And he +opened his eyes again and stared vacantly into the darkness around +him. + +Beside him in a stooping position sat a small man of whose +presence he was first made aware by a strong smell of perspiration +which came from him every time he moved. This man was doing +something to his legs in the darkness, and though Pierre could not see +his face he felt that the man continually glanced at him. On growing +used to the darkness Pierre saw that the man was taking off his leg +bands, and the way he did it aroused Pierre's interest. + +Having unwound the string that tied the band on one leg, he +carefully coiled it up and immediately set to work on the other leg, +glancing up at Pierre. While one hand hung up the first string the +other was already unwinding the band on the second leg. In this way, +having carefully removed the leg bands by deft circular motions of his +arm following one another uninterruptedly, the man hung the leg +bands up on some pegs fixed above his head. Then he took out a +knife, cut something, closed the knife, placed it under the head of +his bed, and, seating himself comfortably, clasped his arms round +his lifted knees and fixed his eyes on Pierre. The latter was +conscious of something pleasant, comforting, and well rounded in these +deft movements, in the man's well-ordered arrangements in his +corner, and even in his very smell, and he looked at the man without +taking his eyes from him. + +"You've seen a lot of trouble, sir, eh?" the little man suddenly +said. + +And there was so much kindliness and simplicity in his singsong +voice that Pierre tried to reply, but his jaw trembled and he felt +tears rising to his eyes. The little fellow, giving Pierre no time +to betray his confusion, instantly continued in the same pleasant +tones: + +"Eh, lad, don't fret!" said he, in the tender singsong caressing +voice old Russian peasant women employ. "Don't fret, friend- 'suffer +an hour, live for an age!' that's how it is, my dear fellow. And +here we live, thank heaven, without offense. Among these folk, too, +there are good men as well as bad," said he, and still speaking, he +turned on his knees with a supple movement, got up, coughed, and +went off to another part of the shed. + +"Eh, you rascal!" Pierre heard the same kind voice saying at the +other end of the shed. "So you've come, you rascal? She remembers... +Now, now, that'll do!" + +And the soldier, pushing away a little dog that was jumping up at +him, returned to his place and sat down. In his hands he had something +wrapped in a rag. + +"Here, eat a bit, sir," said he, resuming his former respectful tone +as he unwrapped and offered Pierre some baked potatoes. "We had soup +for dinner and the potatoes are grand!" + +Pierre had not eaten all day and the smell of the potatoes seemed +extremely pleasant to him. He thanked the soldier and began to eat. + +"Well, are they all right?" said the soldier with a smile. "You +should do like this." + +He took a potato, drew out his clasp knife, cut the potato into +two equal halves on the palm of his hand, sprinkled some salt on it +from the rag, and handed it to Pierre. + +"The potatoes are grand!" he said once more. "Eat some like that!" + +Pierre thought he had never eaten anything that tasted better. + +"Oh, I'm all right," said he, "but why did they shoot those poor +fellows? The last one was hardly twenty." + +"Tss, tt...!" said the little man. "Ah, what a sin... what a sin!" +he added quickly, and as if his words were always waiting ready in his +mouth and flew out involuntarily he went on: "How was it, sir, that +you stayed in Moscow?" + +"I didn't think they would come so soon. I stayed accidentally," +replied Pierre. + +"And how did they arrest you, dear lad? At your house?" + +"No, I went to look at the fire, and they arrested me there, and +tried me as an incendiary." + +"Where there's law there's injustice," put in the little man. + +"And have you been here long?" Pierre asked as he munched the last +of the potato. + +"I? It was last Sunday they took me, out of a hospital in Moscow." + +"Why, are you a soldier then?" + +"Yes, we are soldiers of the Apsheron regiment. I was dying of +fever. We weren't told anything. There were some twenty of us lying +there. We had no idea, never guessed at all." + +"And do you feel sad here?" Pierre inquired. + +"How can one help it, lad? My name is Platon, and the surname is +Karataev," he added, evidently wishing to make it easier for Pierre to +address him. "They call me 'little falcon' in the regiment. How is one +to help feeling sad? Moscow- she's the mother of cities. How can one +see all this and not feel sad? But 'the maggot gnaws the cabbage, +yet dies first'; that's what the old folks used to tell us," he +added rapidly. + +"What? What did you say?" asked Pierre. + +"Who? I?" said Karataev. "I say things happen not as we plan but +as God judges," he replied, thinking that he was repeating what he had +said before, and immediately continued: + +"Well, and you, have you a family estate, sir? And a house? So you +have abundance, then? And a housewife? And your old parents, are +they still living?" he asked. + +And though it was too dark for Pierre to see, he felt that a +suppressed smile of kindliness puckered the soldier's lips as he put +these questions. He seemed grieved that Pierre had no parents, +especially that he had no mother. + +"A wife for counsel, a mother-in-law for welcome, but there's none +as dear as one's own mother!" said he. "Well, and have you little +ones?" he went on asking. + +Again Pierre's negative answer seemed to distress him, and he +hastened to add: + +"Never mind! You're young folks yet, and please God may still have +some. The great thing is to live in harmony...." + +"But it's all the same now," Pierre could not help saying. + +"Ah, my dear fellow!" rejoined Karataev, "never decline a prison +or a beggar's sack!" + +He seated himself more comfortably and coughed, evidently +preparing to tell a long story. + +"Well, my dear fellow, I was still living at home," he began. "We +had a well-to-do homestead, plenty of land, we peasants lived well and +our house was one to thank God for. When Father and we went out mowing +there were seven of us. We lived well. We were real peasants. It so +happened..." + +And Platon Karataev told a long story of how he had gone into +someone's copse to take wood, how he had been caught by the keeper, +had been tried, flogged, and sent to serve as a soldier. + +"Well, lad," and a smile changed the tone of his voice "we thought +it was a misfortune but it turned out a blessing! If it had not been +for my sin, my brother would have had to go as a soldier. But he, my +younger brother, had five little ones, while I, you see, only left a +wife behind. We had a little girl, but God took her before I went as a +soldier. I come home on leave and I'll tell you how it was, I look and +see that they are living better than before. The yard full of +cattle, the women at home, two brothers away earning wages, and only +Michael the youngest, at home. Father, he says, 'All my children are +the same to me: it hurts the same whichever finger gets bitten. But if +Platon hadn't been shaved for a soldier, Michael would have had to +go.' called us all to him and, will you believe it, placed us in front +of the icons. 'Michael,' he says, 'come here and bow down to his feet; +and you, young woman, you bow down too; and you, grandchildren, also +bow down before him! Do you understand?' he says. That's how it is, +dear fellow. Fate looks for a head. But we are always judging, 'that's +not well- that's not right!' Our luck is like water in a dragnet: +you pull at it and it bulges, but when you've drawn it out it's empty! +That's how it is." + +And Platon shifted his seat on the straw. + +After a short silence he rose. + +"Well, I think you must be sleepy," said he, and began rapidly +crossing himself and repeating: + +"Lord Jesus Christ, holy Saint Nicholas, Frola and Lavra! Lord Jesus +Christ, holy Saint Nicholas, Frola and Lavra! Lord Jesus Christ, +have mercy on us and save us!" he concluded, then bowed to the ground, +got up, sighed, and sat down again on his heap of straw. "That's the +way. Lay me down like a stone, O God, and raise me up like a loaf," he +muttered as he lay down, pulling his coat over him. + +"What prayer was that you were saying?" asked Pierre. + +"Eh?" murmured Platon, who had almost fallen asleep. "What was I +saying? I was praying. Don't you pray?" + +"Yes, I do," said Pierre. "But what was that you said: Frola and +Lavra?" + +"Well, of course," replied Platon quickly, "the horses' saints. +One must pity the animals too. Eh, the rascal! Now you've curled up +and got warm, you daughter of a bitch!" said Karataev, touching the +dog that lay at his feet, and again turning over he fell asleep +immediately. + +Sounds of crying and screaming came from somewhere in the distance +outside, and flames were visible through the cracks of the shed, but +inside it was quiet and dark. For a long time Pierre did not sleep, +but lay with eyes open in the darkness, listening to the regular +snoring of Platon who lay beside him, and he felt that the world +that had been shattered was once more stirring in his soul with a +new beauty and on new and unshakable foundations. + +CHAPTER XIII + +Twenty-three soldiers, three officers, and two officials were +confined in the shed in which Pierre had been placed and where he +remained for four weeks. + +When Pierre remembered them afterwards they all seemed misty figures +to him except Platon Karataev, who always remained in his mind a +most vivid and precious memory and the personification of everything +Russian, kindly, and round. When Pierre saw his neighbor next +morning at dawn the first impression of him, as of something round, +was fully confirmed: Platon's whole figure- in a French overcoat +girdled with a cord, a soldier's cap, and bast shoes- was round. His +head was quite round, his back, chest, shoulders, and even his arms, +which he held as if ever ready to embrace something, were rounded, his +pleasant smile and his large, gentle brown eyes were also round. + +Platon Karataev must have been fifty, judging by his stories of +campaigns he had been in, told as by an old soldier. He did not +himself know his age and was quite unable to determine it. But his +brilliantly white, strong teeth which showed in two unbroken +semicircles when he laughed- as he often did- were all sound and good, +there was not a gray hair in his beard or on his head, and his whole +body gave an impression of suppleness and especially of firmness and +endurance. + +His face, despite its fine, rounded wrinkles, had an expression of +innocence and youth, his voice was pleasant and musical. But the chief +peculiarity of his speech was its directness and appositeness. It +was evident that he never considered what he had said or was going +to say, and consequently the rapidity and justice of his intonation +had an irresistible persuasiveness. + +His physical strength and agility during the first days of his +imprisonment were such that he seemed not to know what fatigue and +sickness meant. Every night before lying down, he said: "Lord, lay +me down as a stone and raise me up as a loaf!" and every morning on +getting up, he said: "I lay down and curled up, I get up and shake +myself." And indeed he only had to lie down, to fall asleep like a +stone, and he only had to shake himself, to be ready without a +moment's delay for some work, just as children are ready to play +directly they awake. He could do everything, not very well but not +badly. He baked, cooked, sewed, planed, and mended boots. He was +always busy, and only at night allowed himself conversation- of +which he was fond- and songs. He did not sing like a trained singer +who knows he is listened to, but like the birds, evidently giving vent +to the sounds in the same way that one stretches oneself or walks +about to get rid of stiffness, and the sounds were always +high-pitched, mournful, delicate, and almost feminine, and his face at +such times was very serious. + +Having been taken prisoner and allowed his beard to grow, he +seemed to have thrown off all that had been forced upon him- +everything military and alien to himself- and had returned to his +former peasant habits. + +"A soldier on leave- a shirt outside breeches," he would say. + +He did not like talking about his life as a soldier, though he did +not complain, and often mentioned that he had not been flogged once +during the whole of his army service. When he related anything it +was generally some old and evidently precious memory of his +"Christian" life, as he called his peasant existence. The proverbs, of +which his talk was full, were for the most part not the coarse and +indecent saws soldiers employ, but those folk sayings which taken +without a context seem so insignificant, but when used appositely +suddenly acquire a significance of profound wisdom. + +He would often say the exact opposite of what he had said on a +previous occasion, yet both would be right. He liked to talk and he +talked well, adorning his speech with terms of endearment and with +folk sayings which Pierre thought he invented himself, but the chief +charm of his talk lay in the fact that the commonest events- sometimes +just such as Pierre had witnessed without taking notice of them- +assumed in Karataev's a character of solemn fitness. He liked to +hear the folk tales one of the soldiers used to tell of an evening +(they were always the same), but most of all he liked to hear +stories of real life. He would smile joyfully when listening to such +stories, now and then putting in a word or asking a question to make +the moral beauty of what he was told clear to himself. Karataev had no +attachments, friendships, or love, as Pierre understood them, but +loved and lived affectionately with everything life brought him in +contact with, particularly with man- not any particular man, but those +with whom he happened to be. He loved his dog, his comrades, the +French, and Pierre who was his neighbor, but Pierre felt that in spite +of Karataev's affectionate tenderness for him (by which he +unconsciously gave Pierre's spiritual life its due) he would not +have grieved for a moment at parting from him. And Pierre began to +feel in the same way toward Karataev. + +To all the other prisoners Platon Karataev seemed a most ordinary +soldier. They called him "little falcon" or "Platosha," chaffed him +good-naturedly, and sent him on errands. But to Pierre he always +remained what he had seemed that first night: an unfathomable, +rounded, eternal personification of the spirit of simplicity and +truth. + +Platon Karataev knew nothing by heart except his prayers. When he +began to speak he seemed not to know how he would conclude. + +Sometimes Pierre, struck by the meaning of his words, would ask +him to repeat them, but Platon could never recall what he had said a +moment before, just as he never could repeat to Pierre the words of +his favorite song: native and birch tree and my heart is sick occurred +in it, but when spoken and not sung, no meaning could be got out of +it. He did not, and could not, understand the meaning of words apart +from their context. Every word and action of his was the manifestation +of an activity unknown to him, which was his life. But his life, as he +regarded it, had no meaning as a separate thing. It had meaning only +as part of a whole of which he was always conscious. His words and +actions flowed from him as evenly, inevitably, and spontaneously as +fragrance exhales from a flower. He could not understand the value +or significance of any word or deed taken separately. + +CHAPTER XIV + +When Princess Mary heard from Nicholas that her brother was with the +Rostovs at Yaroslavl she at once prepared to go there, in spite of her +aunt's efforts to dissuade her- and not merely to go herself but to +take her nephew with her. Whether it were difficult or easy, +possible or impossible, she did not ask and did not want to know: it +was her duty not only herself to be near her brother who was perhaps +dying, but to do everything possible to take his son to him, and so +she prepared to set off. That she had not heard from Prince Andrew +himself, Princess Mary attributed to his being too weak to write or to +his considering the long journey too hard and too dangerous for her +and his son. + +In a few days Princess Mary was ready to start. Her equipages were +the huge family coach in which she had traveled to Voronezh, a +semiopen trap, and a baggage cart. With her traveled Mademoiselle +Bourienne, little Nicholas and his tutor, her old nurse, three +maids, Tikhon, and a young footman and courier her aunt had sent to +accompany her. + +The usual route through Moscow could not be thought of, and the +roundabout way Princess Mary was obliged to take through Lipetsk, +Ryazan, Vladimir, and Shuya was very long and, as post horses were not +everywhere obtainable, very difficult, and near Ryazan where the +French were said to have shown themselves was even dangerous. + +During this difficult journey Mademoiselle Bourienne, Dessalles, and +Princess Mary's servants were astonished at her energy and firmness of +spirit. She went to bed later and rose earlier than any of them, and +no difficulties daunted her. Thanks to her activity and energy, +which infected her fellow travelers, they approached Yaroslavl by +the end of the second week. + +The last days of her stay in Voronezh had been the happiest of her +life. Her love for Rostov no longer tormented or agitated her. It +filled her whole soul, had become an integral part of herself, and she +no longer struggled against it. Latterly she had become convinced that +she loved and was beloved, though she never said this definitely to +herself in words. She had become convinced of it at her last interview +with Nicholas, when he had come to tell her that her brother was +with the Rostovs. Not by a single word had Nicholas alluded to the +fact that Prince Andrew's relations with Natasha might, if he +recovered, be renewed, but Princess Mary saw by his face that he +knew and thought of this. + +Yet in spite of that, his relation to her- considerate, delicate, +and loving- not only remained unchanged, but it sometimes seemed to +Princess Mary that he was even glad that the family connection between +them allowed him to express his friendship more freely. She knew +that she loved for the first and only time in her life and felt that +she was beloved, and was happy in regard to it. + +But this happiness on one side of her spiritual nature did not +prevent her feeling grief for her brother with full force; on the +contrary, that spiritual tranquility on the one side made it the +more possible for her to give full play to her feeling for her +brother. That feeling was so strong at the moment of leaving +Voronezh that those who saw her off, as they looked at her careworn, +despairing face, felt sure she would fall ill on the journey. But +the very difficulties and preoccupations of the journey, which she +took so actively in hand, saved her for a while from her grief and +gave her strength. + +As always happens when traveling, Princess Mary thought only of +the journey itself, forgetting its object. But as she approached +Yaroslavl the thought of what might await her there- not after many +days, but that very evening- again presented itself to her and her +agitation increased to its utmost limit. + +The courier who had been sent on in advance to find out where the +Rostovs were staying in Yaroslavl, and in what condition Prince Andrew +was, when he met the big coach just entering the town gates was +appalled by the terrible pallor of the princess' face that looked +out at him from the window. + +"I have found out everything, your excellency: the Rostovs are +staying at the merchant Bronnikov's house, in the Square not far +from here, right above the Volga," said the courier. + +Princess Mary looked at him with frightened inquiry, not +understanding why he did not reply to what she chiefly wanted to know: +how was her brother? Mademoiselle Bourienne put that question for her. + +"How is the prince?" she asked. + +"His excellency is staying in the same house with them." + +"Then he is alive," thought Princess Mary, and asked in a low voice: +"How is he?" + +"The servants say he is still the same." + +What "still the same" might mean Princess Mary did not ask, but with +an unnoticed glance at little seven-year-old Nicholas, who was sitting +in front of her looking with pleasure at the town, she bowed her +head and did not raise it again till the heavy coach, rumbling, +shaking and swaying, came to a stop. The carriage steps clattered as +they were let down. + +The carriage door was opened. On the left there was water- a great +river- and on the right a porch. There were people at the entrance: +servants, and a rosy girl with a large plait of black hair, smiling as +it seemed to Princess Mary in an unpleasantly affected way. (This +was Sonya.) Princess Mary ran up the steps. "This way, this way!" said +the girl, with the same artificial smile, and the princess found +herself in the hall facing an elderly woman of Oriental type, who came +rapidly to meet her with a look of emotion. This was the countess. She +embraced Princess Mary and kissed her. + +"Mon enfant!" she muttered, "je vous aime et vous connais depuis +longtemps."~^ + +^~ "My child! I love you and have known you a long time." + +Despite her excitement, Princess Mary realized that this was the +countess and that it was necessary to say something to her. Hardly +knowing how she did it, she contrived to utter a few polite phrases in +French in the same tone as those that had been addressed to her, and +asked: "How is he?" + +"The doctor says that he is not in danger," said the countess, but +as she spoke she raised her eyes with a sigh, and her gesture conveyed +a contradiction of her words. + +"Where is he? Can I see him- can I?" asked the princess. + +"One moment, Princess, one moment, my dear! Is this his son?" said +the countess, turning to little Nicholas who was coming in with +Dessalles. "There will be room for everybody, this is a big house. Oh, +what a lovely boy!" + +The countess took Princess Mary into the drawing room, where Sonya +was talking to Mademoiselle Bourienne. The countess caressed the +boy, and the old count came in and welcomed the princess. He had +changed very much since Princess Mary had last seen him. Then he had +been a brisk, cheerful, self-assured old man; now he seemed a pitiful, +bewildered person. While talking to Princess Mary he continually +looked round as if asking everyone whether he was doing the right +thing. After the destruction of Moscow and of his property, thrown out +of his accustomed groove he seemed to have lost the sense of his own +significance and to feel that there was no longer a place for him in +life. + +In spite of her one desire to see her brother as soon as possible, +and her vexation that at the moment when all she wanted was to see him +they should be trying to entertain her and pretending to admire her +nephew, the princess noticed all that was going on around her and felt +the necessity of submitting, for a time, to this new order of things +which she had entered. She knew it to be necessary, and though it +was hard for her she was not vexed with these people. + +"This is my niece," said the count, introducing Sonya- "You don't +know her, Princess?" + +Princess Mary turned to Sonya and, trying to stifle the hostile +feeling that arose in her toward the girl, she kissed her. But she +felt oppressed by the fact that the mood of everyone around her was so +far from what was in her own heart. + +"Where is he?" she asked again, addressing them all. + +"He is downstairs. Natasha is with him," answered Sonya, flushing. +"We have sent to ask. I think you must be tired, Princess." + +Tears of vexation showed themselves in Princess Mary's eyes. She +turned away and was about to ask the countess again how to go to +him, when light, impetuous, and seemingly buoyant steps were heard +at the door. The princess looked round and saw Natasha coming in, +almost running- that Natasha whom she had liked so little at their +meeting in Moscow long since. + +But hardly had the princess looked at Natasha's face before she +realized that here was a real comrade in her grief, and consequently a +friend. She ran to meet her, embraced her, and began to cry on her +shoulder. + +As soon as Natasha, sitting at the head of Prince Andrew's bed, +heard of Princess Mary's arrival, she softly left his room and +hastened to her with those swift steps that had sounded buoyant to +Princess Mary. + +There was only one expression on her agitated face when she ran into +the drawing room- that of love- boundless love for him, for her, and +for all that was near to the man she loved; and of pity, suffering for +others, and passionate desire to give herself entirely to helping +them. It was plain that at that moment there was in Natasha's heart no +thought of herself or of her own relations with Prince Andrew. + +Princess Mary, with her acute sensibility, understood all this at +the first glance at Natasha's face, and wept on her shoulder with +sorrowful pleasure. + +"Come, come to him, Mary," said Natasha, leading her into the +other room. + +Princess Mary raised her head, dried her eyes, and turned to +Natasha. She felt that from her she would be able to understand and +learn everything. + +"How..." she began her question but stopped short. + +She felt that it was impossible to ask, or to answer, in words. +Natasha's face eyes would eyes would have to tell her all more clearly +and profoundly. + +Natasha was gazing at her, but seemed afraid and in doubt whether to +say all she knew or not; she seemed to feel that before those luminous +eyes which penetrated into the very depths of her heart, it was +impossible not to tell the whole truth which she saw. And suddenly, +Natasha's lips twitched, ugly wrinkles gathered round her mouth, and +covering her face with her hands she burst into sobs. + +Princess Mary understood. + +But she still hoped, and asked, in words she herself did not trust: + +"But how is his wound? What is his general condition?" + +"You, you... will see," was all Natasha could say. + +They sat a little while downstairs near his room till they had +left off crying and were able to go to him with calm faces. + +"How has his whole illness gone? Is it long since he grew worse? +When did this happen?" Princess Mary inquired. + +Natasha told her that at first there had been danger from his +feverish condition and the pain he suffered, but at Troitsa that had +passed and the doctor had only been afraid of gangrene. That danger +had also passed. When they reached Yaroslavl the wound had begun to +fester (Natasha knew all about such things as festering) and the +doctor had said that the festering might take a normal course. Then +fever set in, but the doctor had said the fever was not very serious. + +"But two days ago this suddenly happened," said Natasha, +struggling with her sobs. "I don't know why, but you will see what +he is like." + +"Is he weaker? Thinner?" asked the princess. + +"No, it's not that, but worse. You will see. O, Mary, he is too +good, he cannot, cannot live, because..." + +CHAPTER XV + +When Natasha opened Prince Andrew's door with a familiar movement +and let Princess Mary pass into the room before her, the princess felt +the sobs in her throat. Hard as she had tried to prepare herself, +and now tried to remain tranquil, she knew that she would be unable to +look at him without tears. + +The princess understood what Natasha had meant by the words: "two +days ago this suddenly happened." She understood those words to mean +that he had suddenly softened and that this softening and gentleness +were signs of approaching death. As she stepped to the door she +already saw in imagination Andrew's face as she remembered it in +childhood, a gentle, mild, sympathetic face which he had rarely shown, +and which therefore affected her very strongly. She was sure he +would speak soft, tender words to her such as her father had uttered +before his death, and that she would not be able to bear it and +would burst into sobs in his presence. Yet sooner or later it had to +be, and she went in. The sobs rose higher and higher in her throat +as she more and more clearly distinguished his form and her +shortsighted eyes tried to make out his features, and then she saw his +face and met his gaze. + +He was lying in a squirrel-fur dressing gown on a divan, +surrounded by pillows. He was thin and pale. In one thin, +translucently white hand he held a handkerchief, while with the +other he stroked the delicate mustache he had grown, moving his +fingers slowly. His eyes gazed at them as they entered. + +On seeing his face and meeting his eyes Princess Mary's pace +suddenly slackened, she felt her tears dry up and her sobs ceased. She +suddenly felt guilty and grew timid on catching the expression of +his face and eyes. + +"But in what am I to blame?" she asked herself. And his cold, +stern look replied: "Because you are alive and thinking of the living, +while I..." + +In the deep the deep gaze that seemed to look not outwards but +inwards there was an almost hostile expression as he slowly regarded +his sister and Natasha. + +He kissed his sister, holding her hand in his as was their wont. + +"How are you, Mary? How did you manage to get here?" said he in a +voice as calm and aloof as his look. + +Had he screamed in agony, that scream would not have struck such +horror into Princess Mary's heart as the tone of his voice. + +"And have you brought little Nicholas?" he asked in the same slow, +quiet manner and with an obvious effort to remember. + +"How are you now?" said Princess Mary, herself surprised at what she +was saying. + +"That, my dear, you must ask the doctor," he replied, and again +making an evident effort to be affectionate, he said with his lips +only (his words clearly did not correspond to his thoughts): + +"Merci, chere amie, d'etre venue."~^ + +^~ "Thank you for coming, my dear." + +Princess Mary pressed his hand. The pressure made him wince just +perceptibly. He was silent, and she did not know what to say. She +now understood what had happened to him two days before. In his words, +his tone, and especially in that calm, almost antagonistic look +could be felt an estrangement from everything belonging to this world, +terrible in one who is alive. Evidently only with an effort did he +understand anything living; but it was obvious that he failed to +understand, not because he lacked the power to do so but because he +understood something else- something the living did not and could +not understand- and which wholly occupied his mind. + +"There, you see how strangely fate has brought us together," said +he, breaking the silence and pointing to Natasha. "She looks after +me all the time." + +Princess Mary heard him and did not understand how he could say such +a thing. He, the sensitive, tender Prince Andrew, how could he say +that, before her whom he loved and who loved him? Had he expected to +live he could not have said those words in that offensively cold tone. +If he had not known that he was dying, how could he have failed to +pity her and how could he speak like that in her presence? The only +explanation was that he was indifferent, because something else, +much more important, had been revealed to him. + +The conversation was cold and disconnected and continually broke +off. + +"Mary came by way of Ryazan," said Natasha. + +Prince Andrew did not notice that she called his sister Mary, and +only after calling her so in his presence did Natasha notice it +herself. + +"Really?" he asked. + +"They told her that all Moscow has been burned down, and that..." + +Natasha stopped. It was impossible to talk. It was plain that he was +making an effort to listen, but could not do so. + +"Yes, they say it's burned," he said. "It's a great pity," and he +gazed straight before him, absently stroking his mustache with his +fingers. + +"And so you have met Count Nicholas, Mary?" Prince Andrew suddenly +said, evidently wishing to speak pleasantly to them. "He wrote here +that he took a great liking to you," he went on simply and calmly, +evidently unable to understand all the complex significance his +words had for living people. "If you liked him too, it would be a good +thing for you to get married," he added rather more quickly, as if +pleased at having found words he had long been seeking. + +Princess Mary heard his words but they had no meaning for her, +except as a proof of how far away he now was from everything living. + +"Why talk of me?" she said quietly and glanced at Natasha. + +Natasha, who felt her glance, did not look at her. All three were +again silent. + +"Andrew, would you like..." Princess Mary suddenly said in a +trembling voice, "would you like to see little Nicholas? He is +always talking about you!" + +Prince Andrew smiled just perceptibly and for the first time, but +Princess Mary, who knew his face so well, saw with horror that he +did not smile with pleasure or affection for his son, but with +quiet, gentle irony because he thought she was trying what she +believed to be the last means of arousing him. + +"Yes, I shall be very glad to see him. Is he quite well?" + +When little Nicholas was brought into Prince Andrew's room he looked +at his father with frightened eyes, but did not cry, because no one +else was crying. Prince Andrew kissed him and evidently did not know +what to say to him. + +When Nicholas had been led away, Princess Mary again went up to +her brother, kissed him, and unable to restrain her tears any longer +began to cry. + +He looked at her attentively. + +"Is it about Nicholas?" he asked. + +Princess Mary nodded her head, weeping. + +"Mary, you know the Gosp..." but he broke off. + +"What did you say?" + +"Nothing. You mustn't cry here," he said, looking at her with the +same cold expression. + +When Princess Mary began to cry, he understood that she was crying +at the thought that little Nicholas would be left without a father. +With a great effort he tried to return to life and to see things +from their point of view. + +"Yes, to them it must seem sad!" he thought. "But how simple it is. + +"The fowls of the air sow not, neither do they reap, yet your Father +feedeth them," he said to himself and wished to say to Princess +Mary; "but no, they will take it their own way, they won't understand! +They can't understand that all those feelings they prize so- all our +feelings, all those ideas that seem so important to us, are +unnecessary. We cannot understand one another," and he remained +silent. + +Prince Andrew's little son was seven. He could scarcely read, and +knew nothing. After that day he lived through many things, gaining +knowledge, observation, and experience, but had he possessed all the +faculties he afterwards acquired, he could not have had a better or +more profound understanding of the meaning of the scene he had +witnessed between his father, Mary, and Natasha, than he had then. +He understood it completely, and, leaving the room without crying, +went silently up to Natasha who had come out with him and looked shyly +at her with his beautiful, thoughtful eyes, then his uplifted, rosy +upper lip trembled and leaning his head against her he began to cry. + +After that he avoided Dessalles and the countess who caressed him +and either sat alone or came timidly to Princess Mary, or to Natasha +of whom he seemed even fonder than of his aunt, and clung to them +quietly and shyly. + +When Princess Mary had left Prince Andrew she fully understood +what Natasha's face had told her. She did not speak any more to +Natasha of hopes of saving his life. She took turns with her beside +his sofa, and did not cry any more, but prayed continually, turning in +soul to that Eternal and Unfathomable, whose presence above the +dying man was now so evident. + +CHAPTER XVI + +Not only did Prince Andrew know he would die, but he felt that he +was dying and was already half dead. He was conscious of an +aloofness from everything earthly and a strange and joyous lightness +of existence. Without haste or agitation he awaited what was coming. +That inexorable, eternal, distant, and unknown the presence of which +he had felt continually all his life- was now near to him and, by +the strange lightness he experienced, almost comprehensible and +palpable... + +Formerly he had feared the end. He had twice experienced that +terribly tormenting fear of death- the end- but now he no longer +understood that fear. + +He had felt it for the first time when the shell spun like a top +before him, and he looked at the fallow field, the bushes, and the +sky, and knew that he was face to face with death. When he came to +himself after being wounded and the flower of eternal, unfettered love +had instantly unfolded itself in his soul as if freed from the bondage +of life that had restrained it, he no longer feared death and ceased +to think about it. + +During the hours of solitude, suffering, and partial delirium he +spent after he was wounded, the more deeply he penetrated into the new +principle of eternal love revealed to him, the more he unconsciously +detached himself from earthly life. To love everything and everybody +and always to sacrifice oneself for love meant not to love anyone, not +to live this earthly life. And the more imbued he became with that +principle of love, the more he renounced life and the more +completely he destroyed that dreadful barrier which- in the absence of +such love- stands between life and death. When during those first days +he remembered that he would have to die, he said to himself: "Well, +what of it? So much the better!" + +But after the night in Mytishchi when, half delirious, he had seen +her for whom he longed appear before him and, having pressed her +hand to his lips, had shed gentle, happy tears, love for a +particular woman again crept unobserved into his heart and once more +bound him to life. And joyful and agitating thoughts began to occupy +his mind. Recalling the moment at the ambulance station when he had +seen Kuragin, he could not now regain the feeling he then had, but was +tormented by the question whether Kuragin was alive. And he dared +not inquire. + +His illness pursued its normal physical course, but what Natasha +referred to when she said: "This suddenly happened," had occurred +two days before Princess Mary arrived. It was the last spiritual +struggle between life and death, in which death gained the victory. It +was the unexpected realization of the fact that he still valued life +as presented to him in the form of his love for Natasha, and a last, +though ultimately vanquished, attack of terror before the unknown. + +It was evening. As usual after dinner he was slightly feverish, +and his thoughts were preternaturally clear. Sonya was sitting by +the table. He began to doze. Suddenly a feeling of happiness seized +him. + +"Ah, she has come!" thought he. + +And so it was: in Sonya's place sat Natasha who had just come in +noiselessly. + +Since she had begun looking after him, he had always experienced +this physical consciousness of her nearness. She was sitting in an +armchair placed sideways, screening the light of the candle from +him, and was knitting a stocking. She had learned to knit stockings +since Prince Andrew had casually mentioned that no one nursed the sick +so well as old nurses who knit stockings, and that there is +something soothing in the knitting of stockings. The needles clicked +lightly in her slender, rapidly moving hands, and he could clearly see +the thoughtful profile of her drooping face. She moved, and the ball +rolled off her knees. She started, glanced round at him, and screening +the candle with her hand stooped carefully with a supple and exact +movement, picked up the ball, and regained her former position. + +He looked at her without moving and saw that she wanted to draw a +deep breath after stooping, but refrained from doing so and breathed +cautiously. + +At the Troitsa monastery they had spoken of the past, and he had +told her that if he lived he would always thank God for his wound +which had brought them together again, but after that they never spoke +of the future. + +"Can it or can it not be?" he now thought as he looked at her and +listened to the light click of the steel needles. "Can fate have +brought me to her so strangely only for me to die?... Is it possible +that the truth of life has been revealed to me only to show me that +I have spent my life in falsity? I love her more than anything in +the world! But what am I to do if I love her?" he thought, and he +involuntarily groaned, from a habit acquired during his sufferings. + +On hearing that sound Natasha put down the stocking, leaned nearer +to him, and suddenly, noticing his shining eyes, stepped lightly up to +him and bent over him. + +"You are not asleep?" + +"No, I have been looking at you a long time. I felt you come in. +No one else gives me that sense of soft tranquillity that you do... +that light. I want to weep for joy." + +Natasha drew closer to him. Her face shone with rapturous joy. + +"Natasha, I love you too much! More than anything in the world." + +"And I!"- She turned away for an instant. "Why too much?" she asked. + +"Why too much?... Well, what do you, what do you feel in your +soul, your whole soul- shall I live? What do you think?" + +"I am sure of it, sure!" Natasha almost shouted, taking hold of both +his hands with a passionate movement. + +He remained silent awhile. + +"How good it would be!" and taking her hand he kissed it. + +Natasha felt happy and agitated, but at once remembered that this +would not do and that he had to be quiet. + +"But you have not slept," she said, repressing her joy. "Try to +sleep... please!" + +He pressed her hand and released it, and she went back to the candle +and sat down again in her former position. Twice she turned and looked +at him, and her eyes met his beaming at her. She set herself a task on +her stocking and resolved not to turn round till it was finished. + +Soon he really shut his eyes and fell asleep. He did not sleep +long and suddenly awoke with a start and in a cold perspiration. + +As he fell asleep he had still been thinking of the subject that now +always occupied his mind- about life and death, and chiefly about +death. He felt himself nearer to it. + +"Love? What is love?" he thought. + +"Love hinders death. Love is life. All, everything that I +understand, I understand only because I love. Everything is, +everything exists, only because I love. Everything is united by it +alone. Love is God, and to die means that I, a particle of love, shall +return to the general and eternal source." These thoughts seemed to +him comforting. But they were only thoughts. Something was lacking +in them, they were not clear, they were too one-sidedly personal and +brain-spun. And there was the former agitation and obscurity. He +fell asleep. + +He dreamed that he was lying in the room he really was in, but +that he was quite well and unwounded. Many various, indifferent, and +insignificant people appeared before him. He talked to them and +discussed something trivial. They were preparing to go away somewhere. +Prince Andrew dimly realized that all this was trivial and that he had +more important cares, but he continued to speak, surprising them by +empty witticisms. Gradually, unnoticed, all these persons began to +disappear and a single question, that of the closed door, superseded +all else. He rose and went to the door to bolt and lock it. Everything +depended on whether he was, or was not, in time to lock it. He went, +and tried to hurry, but his legs refused to move and he knew he +would not be in time to lock the door though he painfully strained all +his powers. He was seized by an agonizing fear. And that fear was +the fear of death. It stood behind the door. But just when he was +clumsily creeping toward the door, that dreadful something on the +other side was already pressing against it and forcing its way in. +Something not human- death- was breaking in through that door, and had +to be kept out. He seized the door, making a final effort to hold it +back- to lock it was no longer possible- but his efforts were weak and +clumsy and the door, pushed from behind by that terror, opened and +closed again. + +Once again it pushed from outside. His last superhuman efforts +were vain and both halves of the door noiselessly opened. It +entered, and it was death, and Prince Andrew died. + +But at the instant he died, Prince Andrew remembered that he was +asleep, and at the very instant he died, having made an effort, he +awoke. + +"Yes, it was death! I died- and woke up. Yes, death is an +awakening!" And all at once it grew light in his soul and the veil +that had till then concealed the unknown was lifted from his spiritual +vision. He felt as if powers till then confined within him had been +liberated, and that strange lightness did not again leave him. + +When, waking in a cold perspiration, he moved on the divan, +Natasha went up and asked him what was the matter. He did not answer +and looked at her strangely, not understanding. + +That was what had happened to him two days before Princess Mary's +arrival. From that day, as the doctor expressed it, the wasting +fever assumed a malignant character, but what the doctor said did +not interest Natasha, she saw the terrible moral symptoms which to her +were more convincing. + +From that day an awakening from life came to Prince Andrew +together with his awakening from sleep. And compared to the duration +of life it did not seem to him slower than an awakening from sleep +compared to the duration of a dream. + +There was nothing terrible or violent in this comparatively slow +awakening. + +His last days and hours passed in an ordinary and simple way. Both +Princess Mary and Natasha, who did not leave him, felt this. They +did not weep or shudder and during these last days they themselves +felt that they were not attending on him (he was no longer there, he +had left them) but on what reminded them most closely of him- his +body. Both felt this so strongly that the outward and terrible side of +death did not affect them and they did not feel it necessary to foment +their grief. Neither in his presence nor out of it did they weep, +nor did they ever talk to one another about him. They felt that they +could not express in words what they understood. + +They both saw that he was sinking slowly and quietly, deeper and +deeper, away from them, and they both knew that this had to be so +and that it was right. + +He confessed, and received communion: everyone came to take leave of +him. When they brought his son to him, he pressed his lips to the +boy's and turned away, not because he felt it hard and sad (Princess +Mary and Natasha understood that) but simply because he thought it was +all that was required of him, but when they told him to bless the boy, +he did what was demanded and looked round as if asking whether there +was anything else he should do. + +When the last convulsions of the body, which the spirit was leaving, +occurred, Princess Mary and Natasha were present. + +"Is it over?" said Princess Mary when his body had for a few minutes +lain motionless, growing cold before them. Natasha went up, looked +at the dead eyes, and hastened to close them. She closed them but +did not kiss them, but clung to that which reminded her most nearly of +him- his body. + +"Where has he gone? Where is he now?..." + +When the body, washed and dressed, lay in the coffin on a table, +everyone came to take leave of him and they all wept. + +Little Nicholas cried because his heart was rent by painful +perplexity. The countess and Sonya cried from pity for Natasha and +because he was no more. The old count cried because he felt that +before long, he, too, must take the same terrible step. + +Natasha and Princess Mary also wept now, but not because of their +own personal grief; they wept with a reverent and softening emotion +which had taken possession of their souls at the consciousness of +the simple and solemn mystery of death that had been accomplished in +their presence. + +BOOK THIRTEEN: 1812 + +CHAPTER I + +Man's mind cannot grasp the causes of events in their +completeness, but the desire to find those causes is implanted in +man's soul. And without considering the multiplicity and complexity of +the conditions any one of which taken separately may seem to be the +cause, he snatches at the first approximation to a cause that seems to +him intelligible and says: "This is the cause!" In historical events +(where the actions of men are the subject of observation) the first +and most primitive approximation to present itself was the will of the +gods and, after that, the will of those who stood in the most +prominent position- the heroes of history. But we need only +penetrate to the essence of any historic event- which lies in the +activity of the general mass of men who take part in it- to be +convinced that the will of the historic hero does not control the +actions of the mass but is itself continually controlled. It may +seem to be a matter of indifference whether we understand the +meaning of historical events this way or that; yet there is the same +difference between a man who says that the people of the West moved on +the East because Napoleon wished it and a man who says that this +happened because it had to happen, as there is between those who +declared that the earth was stationary and that the planets moved +round it and those who admitted that they did not know what upheld the +earth, but knew there were laws directing its movement and that of the +other planets. There is, and can be, no cause of an historical event +except the one cause of all causes. But there are laws directing +events, and some of these laws are known to us while we are +conscious of others we cannot comprehend. The discovery of these +laws is only possible when possible when we have quite abandoned the +attempt to find the cause in the will of some one man, just as the +discovery of the laws of the motion of the planets was possible only +when men abandoned the conception of the fixity of the earth. + +The historians consider that, next to the battle of Borodino and the +occupation of Moscow by the enemy and its destruction by fire, the +most important episode of the war of 1812 was the movement of the +Russian army from the Ryazana to the Kaluga road and to the Tarutino +camp- the so-called flank march across the Krasnaya Pakhra River. They +ascribe the glory of that achievement of genius to different men and +dispute as to whom the honor is due. Even foreign historians, +including the French, acknowledge the genius of the Russian commanders +when they speak of that flank march. But it is hard to understand +why military writers, and following them others, consider this flank +march to be the profound conception of some one man who saved Russia +and destroyed Napoleon. In the first place it is hard to understand +where the profundity and genius of this movement lay, for not much +mental effort was needed to see that the best position for an army +when it is not being attacked is where there are most provisions; +and even a dull boy of thirteen could have guessed that the best +position for an army after its retreat from Moscow in 1812 was on +the Kaluga road. So it is impossible to understand by what reasoning +the historians reach the conclusion that this maneuver was a +profound one. And it is even more difficult to understand just why +they think that this maneuver was calculated to save Russia and +destroy the French; for this flank march, had it been preceded, +accompanied, or followed by other circumstances, might have proved +ruinous to the Russians and salutary for the French. If the position +of the Russian army really began to improve from the time of that +march, it does not at all follow that the march was the cause of it. + +That flank march might not only have failed to give any advantage to +the Russian army, but might in other circumstances have led to its +destruction. What would have happened had Moscow not burned down? If +Murat had not lost sight of the Russians? If Napoleon had not remained +inactive? If the Russian army at Krasnaya Pakhra had given battle as +Bennigsen and Barclay advised? What would have happened had the French +attacked the Russians while they were marching beyond the Pakhra? What +would have happened if on approaching Tarutino, Napoleon had +attacked the Russians with but a tenth of the energy he had shown when +he attacked them at Smolensk? What would have happened had the +French moved on Petersburg?... In any of these eventualities the flank +march that brought salvation might have proved disastrous. + +The third and most incomprehensible thing is that people studying +history deliberately avoid seeing that this flank march cannot be +attributed to any one man, that no one ever foresaw it, and that in +reality, like the retreat from Fili, it did not suggest itself to +anyone in its entirety, but resulted- moment by moment, step by +step, event by event- from an endless number of most diverse +circumstances and was only seen in its entirety when it had been +accomplished and belonged to the past. + +At the council at Fili the prevailing thought in the minds of the +Russian commanders was the one naturally suggesting itself, namely, +a direct retreat by the Nizhni road. In proof of this there is the +fact that the majority of the council voted for such a retreat, and +above all there is the well-known conversation after the council, +between the commander in chief and Lanskoy, who was in charge of the +commissariat department. Lanskoy informed the commander in chief +that the army supplies were for the most part stored along the Oka +in the Tula and Ryazan provinces, and that if they retreated on Nizhni +the army would be separated from its supplies by the broad river +Oka, which cannot be crossed early in winter. This was the first +indication of the necessity of deviating from what had previously +seemed the most natural course- a direct retreat on Nizhni-Novgorod. +The army turned more to the south, along the Ryazan road and nearer to +its supplies. Subsequently the in activity of the French (who even +lost sight of the Russian army), concern for the safety of the arsenal +at Tula, and especially the advantages of drawing nearer to its +supplies caused the army to turn still further south to the Tula road. +Having crossed over, by a forced march, to the Tula road beyond the +Pakhra, the Russian commanders intended to remain at Podolsk and had +no thought of the Tarutino position; but innumerable circumstances and +the reappearance of French troops who had for a time lost touch with +the Russians, and projects of giving battle, and above all the +abundance of provisions in Kaluga province, obliged our army to turn +still more to the south and to cross from the Tula to the Kaluga +road and go to Tarutino, which was between the roads along which those +supplies lay. Just as it is impossible to say when it was decided to +abandon Moscow, so it is impossible to say precisely when, or by whom, +it was decided to move to Tarutino. Only when the army had got +there, as the result of innumerable and varying forces, did people +begin to assure themselves that they had desired this movement and +long ago foreseen its result. + +CHAPTER II + +The famous flank movement merely consisted in this: after the +advance of the French had ceased, the Russian army, which had been +continually retreating straight back from the invaders, deviated +from that direct course and, not finding itself pursued, was naturally +drawn toward the district where supplies were abundant. + +If instead of imagining to ourselves commanders of genius leading +the Russian army, we picture that army without any leaders, it could +not have done anything but make a return movement toward Moscow, +describing an arc in the direction where most provisions were to be +found and where the country was richest. + +That movement from the Nizhni to the Ryazan, Tula, and Kaluga +roads was so natural that even the Russian marauders moved in that +direction, and demands were sent from Petersburg for Kutuzov to take +his army that way. At Tarutino Kutuzov received what was almost a +reprimand from the Emperor for having moved his army along the +Ryazan road, and the Emperor's letter indicated to him the very +position he had already occupied near Kaluga. + +Having rolled like a ball in the direction of the impetus given by +the whole campaign and by the battle of Borodino, the Russian army- +when the strength of that impetus was exhausted and no fresh push +was received- assumed the position natural to it. + +Kutuzov's merit lay, not in any strategic maneuver of genius, as +it is called, but in the fact that he alone understood the +significance of what had happened. He alone then understood the +meaning of the French army's inactivity, he alone continued to +assert that the battle of Borodino had been a victory, he alone- who +as commander in chief might have been expected to be eager to +attack- employed his whole strength to restrain the Russian army +from useless engagements. + +The beast wounded at Borodino was lying where the fleeing hunter had +left him; but whether he was still alive, whether he was strong and +merely lying low, the hunter did not know. Suddenly the beast was +heard to moan. + +The moan of that wounded beast (the French army) which betrayed +its calamitous condition was the sending of Lauriston to Kutuzov's +camp with overtures for peace. + +Napoleon, with his usual assurance that whatever entered his head +was right, wrote to Kutuzov the first words that occurred to him, +though they were meaningless. + +MONSIEUR LE PRINCE KOUTOUZOV: I am sending one of my +adjutants-general to discuss several interesting questions with you. I +beg your Highness to credit what he says to you, especially when he +expresses the sentiment of esteem and special regard I have long +entertained for your person. This letter having no other object, I +pray God, monsieur le Prince Koutouzov, to keep you in His holy and +gracious protection! + +NAPOLEON + +MOSCOW, OCTOBER 30, 1812 + +Kutuzov replied: "I should be cursed by posterity were I looked on +as the initiator of a settlement of any sort. Such is the present +spirit of my nation." But he continued to exert all his powers to +restrain his troops from attacking. + +During the month that the French troops were pillaging in Moscow and +the Russian troops were quietly encamped at Tarutino, a change had +taken place in the relative strength of the two armies- both in spirit +and in number- as a result of which the superiority had passed to +the Russian side. Though the condition and numbers of the French +army were unknown to the Russians, as soon as that change occurred the +need of attacking at once showed itself by countless signs. These +signs were: Lauriston's mission; the abundance of provisions at +Tarutino; the reports coming in from all sides of the inactivity and +disorder of the French; the flow of recruits to our regiments; the +fine weather; the long rest the Russian soldiers had enjoyed, and +the impatience to do what they had been assembled for, which usually +shows itself in an army that has been resting; curiosity as to what +the French army, so long lost sight of, was doing; the boldness with +which our outposts now scouted close up to the French stationed at +Tarutino; the news of easy successes gained by peasants and +guerrilla troops over the French, the envy aroused by this; the desire +for revenge that lay in the heart of every Russian as long as the +French were in Moscow, and (above all) a dim consciousness in every +soldier's mind that the relative strength of the armies had changed +and that the advantage was now on our side. There was a substantial +change in the relative strength, and an advance had become inevitable. +And at once, as a clock begins to strike and chime as soon as the +minute hand has completed a full circle, this change was shown by an +increased activity, whirring, and chiming in the higher spheres. + +CHAPTER III + +The Russian army was commanded by Kutuzov and his staff, and also by +the Emperor from Petersburg. Before the news of the abandonment of +Moscow had been received in Petersburg, a detailed plan of the whole +campaign had been drawn up and sent to Kutuzov for his guidance. +Though this plan had been drawn up on the supposition that Moscow +was still in our hands, it was approved by the staff and accepted as a +basis for action. Kutuzov only replied that movements arranged from +a distance were always difficult to execute. So fresh instructions +were sent for the solution of difficulties that might be +encountered, as well as fresh people who were to watch Kutuzov's +actions and report upon them. + +Besides this, the whole staff of the Russian army was now +reorganized. The posts left vacant by Bagration, who had been +killed, and by Barclay, who had gone away in dudgeon, had to be +filled. Very serious consideration was given to the question whether +it would be better to put A in B's place and B in D's, or on the +contrary to put D in A's place, and so on- as if anything more than +A's or B's satisfaction depended on this. + +As a result of the hostility between Kutuzov and Bennigsen, his +Chief of Staff, the presence of confidential representatives of the +Emperor, and these transfers, a more than usually complicated play +of parties was going on among the staff of the army. A was undermining +B, D was undermining C, and so on in all possible combinations and +permutations. In all these plottings the subject of intrigue was +generally the conduct of the war, which all these men believed they +were directing; but this affair of the war went on independently of +them, as it had to go: that is, never in the way people devised, but +flowing always from the essential attitude of the masses. Only in +the highest spheres did all these schemes, crossings, and +interminglings appear to be a true reflection of what had to happen. + +Prince Michael Ilarionovich! (wrote the Emperor on the second of +October in a letter that reached Kutuzov after the battle at Tarutino) +Since September 2 Moscow has been in the hands of the enemy. Your last +reports were written on the twentieth, and during all this time not +only has no action been taken against the enemy or for the relief of +the ancient capital, but according to your last report you have even +retreated farther. Serpukhov is already occupied by an enemy +detachment and Tula with its famous arsenal so indispensable to the +army, is in danger. From General Wintzingerode's reports, I see that +an enemy corps of ten thousand men is moving on the Petersburg road. +Another corps of several thousand men is moving on Dmitrov. A third +has advanced along the Vladimir road, and a fourth, rather +considerable detachment is stationed between Ruza and Mozhaysk. +Napoleon himself was in Moscow as late as the twenty-fifth. In view of +all this information, when the enemy has scattered his forces in large +detachments, and with Napoleon and his Guards in Moscow, is it +possible that the enemy's forces confronting you are so considerable +as not to allow of your taking the offensive? On the contrary, he is +probably pursuing you with detachments, or at most with an army +corps much weaker than the army entrusted to you. It would seem +that, availing yourself of these circumstances, you might +advantageously attack a weaker one and annihilate him, or at least +oblige him to retreat, retaining in our hands an important part of the +provinces now occupied by the enemy, and thereby averting danger +from Tula and other towns in the interior. You will be responsible +if the enemy is able to direct a force of any size against +Petersburg to threaten this capital in which it has not been +possible to retain many troops; for with the army entrusted to you, +and acting with resolution and energy, you have ample means to avert +this fresh calamity. Remember that you have still to answer to our +offended country for the loss of Moscow. You have experienced my +readiness to reward you. That readiness will not weaken in me, but I +and Russia have a right to expect from you all the zeal, firmness, and +success which your intellect, military talent, and the courage of +the troops you command justify us in expecting. + +But by the time this letter, which proved that the real relation +of the forces had already made itself felt in Petersburg, was +dispatched, Kutuzov had found himself unable any longer to restrain +the army he commanded from attacking and a battle had taken place. + +On the second of October a Cossack, Shapovalov, who was out +scouting, killed one hare and wounded another. Following the wounded +hare he made his way far into the forest and came upon the left +flank of Murat's army, encamped there without any precautions. The +Cossack laughingly told his comrades how he had almost fallen into the +hands of the French. A cornet, hearing the story, informed his +commander. + +The Cossack was sent for and questioned. The Cossack officers wished +to take advantage of this chance to capture some horses, but one of +the superior officers, who was acquainted with the higher authorities, +reported the incident to a general on the staff. The state of +things on the staff had of late been exceedingly strained. Ermolov had +been to see Bennigsen a few days previously and had entreated him to +use his influence with the commander in chief to induce him to take +the offensive. + +"If I did not know you I should think you did not want what you +are asking for. I need only advise anything and his Highness is sure +to do the opposite," replied Bennigsen. + +The Cossack's report, confirmed by horse patrols who were sent +out, was the final proof that events had matured. The tightly coiled +spring was released, the clock began to whirr and the chimes to +play. Despite all his supposed power, his intellect, his experience, +and his knowledge of men, Kutuzov- having taken into consideration the +Cossack's report, a note from Bennigsen who sent personal reports to +the Emperor, the wishes he supposed the Emperor to hold, and the +fact that all the generals expressed the same wish- could no longer +check the inevitable movement, and gave the order to do what he +regarded as useless and harmful- gave his approval, that is, to the +accomplished fact. + +CHAPTER IV + +Bennigsen's note and the Cossack's information that the left flank +of the French was unguarded were merely final indications that it +was necessary to order an attack, and it was fixed for the fifth of +October. + +On the morning of the fourth of October Kutuzov signed the +dispositions. Toll read them to Ermolov, asking him to attend to the +further arrangements. + +"All right- all right. I haven't time just now," replied Ermolov, +and left the hut. + +The dispositions drawn up by Toll were very good. As in the +Austerlitz dispositions, it was written- though not in German this +time: + +"The First Column will march here and here," "the Second Column will +march there and there," and so on; and on paper, all these columns +arrived at their places at the appointed time and destroyed the enemy. +Everything had been admirably thought out as is usual in dispositions, +and as is always the case, not a single column reached its place at +the appointed time. + +When the necessary number of copies of the dispositions had been +prepared, an officer was summoned and sent to deliver them to +Ermolov to deal with. A young officer of the Horse Guards, Kutuzov's +orderly, pleased at the importance of the mission entrusted to him, +went to Ermolov's quarters. + +"Gone away," said Ermolov's orderly. + +The officer of the Horse Guards went to a general with whom +Ermolov was often to be found. + +"No, and the general's out too." + +The officer, mounting his horse, rode off to someone else. + +"No, he's gone out." + +"If only they don't make me responsible for this delay! What a +nuisance it is!" thought the officer, and he rode round the whole +camp. One man said he had seen Ermolov ride past with some other +generals, others said he must have returned home. The officer searched +till six o'clock in the evening without even stopping to eat. +Ermolov was nowhere to be found and no one knew where he was. The +officer snatched a little food at a comrade's, and rode again to the +vanguard to find Miloradovich. Miloradovich too was away, but here +he was told that he had gone to a ball at General Kikin's and that +Ermolov was probably there too. + +"But where is it?" + +"Why, there, over at Echkino," said a Cossack officer, pointing to a +country house in the far distance. + +"What, outside our line?" + +"They've put two regiments as outposts, and they're having such a +spree there, it's awful! Two bands and three sets of singers!" + +The officer rode out beyond our lines to Echkino. While still at a +distance he heard as he rode the merry sounds of a soldier's dance +song proceeding from the house. + +"In the meadows... in the meadows!" he heard, accompanied by +whistling and the sound of a torban, drowned every now and then by +shouts. These sounds made his spirits rise, but at the same time he +was afraid that he would be blamed for not having executed sooner +the important order entrusted to him. It was already past eight +o'clock. He dismounted and went up into the porch of a large country +house which had remained intact between the Russian and French forces. +In the refreshment room and the hall, footmen were bustling about with +wine and viands. Groups of singers stood outside the windows. The +officer was admitted and immediately saw all the chief generals of the +army together, and among them Ermolov's big imposing figure. They +all had their coats unbuttoned and were standing in a semicircle +with flushed and animated faces, laughing loudly. In the middle of the +room a short handsome general with a red face was dancing the trepak +with much spirit and agility. + +"Ha, ha, ha! Bravo, Nicholas Ivanych! Ha, ha, ha!" + +The officer felt that by arriving with important orders at such a +moment he was doubly to blame, and he would have preferred to wait; +but one of the generals espied him and, hearing what he had come +about, informed Ermolov. + +Ermolov came forward with a frown on his face and, hearing what +the officer had to say, took the papers from him without a word. + +"You think he went off just by chance?" said a comrade, who was on +the staff that evening, to the officer of the Horse Guards, +referring to Ermolov. "It was a trick. It was done on purpose to get +Konovnitsyn into trouble. You'll see what a mess there'll be +tomorrow." + +CHAPTER V + +Next day the decrepit Kutuzov, having given orders to be called +early, said his prayers, dressed, and, with an unpleasant +consciousness of having to direct a battle he did not approve of, +got into his caleche and drove from Letashovka (a village three and +a half miles from Tarutino) to the place where the attacking columns +were to meet. He sat in the caleche, dozing and waking up by turns, +and listening for any sound of firing on the right as an indication +that the action had begun. But all was still quiet. A damp dull autumn +morning was just dawning. On approaching Tarutino Kutuzov noticed +cavalrymen leading their horses to water across the road along which +he was driving. Kutuzov looked at them searchingly, stopped his +carriage, and inquired what regiment they belonged to. They belonged +to a column that should have been far in front and in ambush long +before then. "It may be a mistake," thought the old commander in +chief. But a little further on he saw infantry regiments with their +arms piled and the soldiers, only partly dressed, eating their rye +porridge and carrying fuel. He sent for an officer. The officer +reported that no order to advance had been received. + +"How! Not rec..." Kutuzov began, but checked himself immediately and +sent for a senior officer. Getting out of his caleche, he waited +with drooping head and breathing heavily, pacing silently up and down. +When Eykhen, the officer of the general staff whom he had summoned, +appeared, Kutuzov went purple in the face, not because that officer +was to blame for the mistake, but because he was an object of +sufficient importance for him to vent his wrath on. Trembling and +panting the old man fell into that state of fury in which he sometimes +used to roll on the ground, and he fell upon Eykhen, threatening him +with his hands, shouting and loading him with gross abuse. Another +man, Captain Brozin, who happened to turn up and who was not at all to +blame, suffered the same fate. + +"What sort of another blackguard are you? I'll have you shot! +Scoundrels!" yelled Kutuzov in a hoarse voice, waving his arms and +reeling. + +He was suffering physically. He, the commander in chief, a Serene +Highness who everybody said possessed powers such as no man had ever +had in Russia, to be placed in this position- made the laughingstock +of the whole army! "I needn't have been in such a hurry to pray +about today, or have kept awake thinking everything over all night," +thought he to himself. "When I was a chit of an officer no one would +have dared to mock me so... and now!" He was in a state of physical +suffering as if from corporal punishment, and could not avoid +expressing it by cries of anger and distress. But his strength soon +began to fail him, and looking about him, conscious of having said +much that was amiss, he again got into his caleche and drove back in +silence. + +His wrath, once expended, did not return, and blinking feebly he +listened to excuses and self-justifications (Ermolov did not come to +see him till the next day) and to the insistence of Bennigsen, +Konovnitsyn, and Toll that the movement that had miscarried should +be executed next day. And once more Kutuzov had to consent. + +CHAPTER VI + +Next day the troops assembled in their appointed places in the +evening and advanced during the night. It was an autumn night with +dark purple clouds, but no rain. The ground was damp but not muddy, +and the troops advanced noiselessly, only occasionally a jingling of +the artillery could be faintly heard. The men were forbidden to talk +out loud, to smoke their pipes, or to strike a light, and they tried +to prevent their horses neighing. The secrecy of the undertaking +heightened its charm and they marched gaily. Some columns, +supposing. they had reached their destination, halted, piled arms, and +settled down on the cold ground, but the majority marched all night +and arrived at places where they evidently should not have been. + +Only Count Orlov-Denisov with his Cossacks (the least important +detachment of all) got to his appointed place at the right time. +This detachment halted at the outskirts of a forest, on the path +leading from the village of Stromilova to Dmitrovsk. + +Toward dawn, Count Orlov-Denisov, who had dozed off, was awakened by +a deserter from the French army being brought to him. This was a +Polish sergeant of Poniatowski's corps, who explained in Polish that +he had come over because he had been slighted in the service: that +he ought long ago to have been made an officer, that he was braver +than any of them, and so he had left them and wished to pay them +out. He said that Murat was spending the night less than a mile from +where they were, and that if they would let him have a convoy of a +hundred men he would capture him alive. Count Orlov-Denisov +consulted his fellow officers. + +The offer was too tempting to be refused. Everyone volunteered to go +and everybody advised making the attempt. After much disputing and +arguing, Major-General Grekov with two Cossack regiments decided to go +with the Polish sergeant. + +"Now, remember," said Count Orlov-Denisov to the sergeant at +parting, "if you have been lying I'll have you hanged like a dog; +but if it's true you shall have a hundred gold pieces!" + +Without replying, the sergeant, with a resolute air, mounted and +rode away with Grekov whose men had quickly assembled. They +disappeared into the forest, and Count Orlov-Denisov, having seen +Grekov off, returned, shivering from the freshness of the early dawn +and excited by what he had undertaken on his own responsibility, and +began looking at the enemy camp, now just visible in the deceptive +light of dawn and the dying campfires. Our columns ought to have begun +to appear on an open declivity to his right. He looked in that +direction, but though the columns would have been visible quite far +off, they were not to be seen. It seemed to the count that things were +beginning to stir in the French camp, and his keen-sighted adjutant +confirmed this. + +"Oh, it is really too late," said Count Orlov, looking at the camp. + +As often happens when someone we have trusted is no longer before +our eyes, it suddenly seemed quite clear and obvious to him that the +sergeant was an impostor, that he had lied, and that the whole Russian +attack would be ruined by the absence of those two regiments, which he +would lead away heaven only knew where. How could one capture a +commander in chief from among such a mass of troops! + +"I am sure that rascal was lying," said the count. + +"They can still be called back," said one of his suite, who like +Count Orlov felt distrustful of the adventure when he looked at the +enemy's camp. + +"Eh? Really... what do you think? Should we let them go on or not?" + +"Will you have them fetched back?" + +"Fetch them back, fetch them back!" said Count Orlov with sudden +determination, looking at his watch. "It will be too late. It is quite +light." + +And the adjutant galloped through the forest after Grekov. When +Grekov returned, Count Orlov-Denisov, excited both by the abandoned +attempt and by vainly awaiting the infantry columns that still did not +appear, as well as by the proximity of the enemy, resolved to advance. +All his men felt the same excitement. + +"Mount!" he commanded in a whisper. The men took their places and +crossed themselves.... "Forward, with God's aid!" + +"Hurrah-ah-ah!" reverberated in the forest, and the Cossack +companies, trailing their lances and advancing one after another as if +poured out of a sack, dashed gaily across the brook toward the camp. + +One desperate, frightened yell from the first French soldier who saw +the Cossacks, and all who were in the camp, undressed and only just +waking up, ran off in all directions, abandoning cannons, muskets, and +horses. + +Had the Cossacks pursued the French, without heeding what was behind +and around them, they would have captured Murat and everything +there. That was what the officers desired. But it was impossible to +make the Cossacks budge when once they had got booty and prisoners. +None of them listened to orders. Fifteen hundred prisoners and +thirty-eight guns were taken on the spot, besides standards and +(what seemed most important to the Cossacks) horses, saddles, +horsecloths, and the like. All this had to be dealt with, the +prisoners and guns secured, the booty divided- not without some +shouting and even a little themselves- and it was on this that the +Cossacks all busied themselves. + +The French, not being farther pursued, began to recover +themselves: they formed into detachments and began firing. +Orlov-Denisov, still waiting for the other columns to arrive, advanced +no further. + +Meantime, according to the dispositions which said that "the First +Column will march" and so on, the infantry of the belated columns, +commanded by Bennigsen and directed by Toll, had started in due +order and, as always happens, had got somewhere, but not to their +appointed places. As always happens the men, starting cheerfully, +began to halt; murmurs were heard, there was a sense of confusion, and +finally a backward movement. Adjutants and generals galloped about, +shouted, grew angry, quarreled, said they had come quite wrong and +were late, gave vent to a little abuse, and at last gave it all up and +went forward, simply to get somewhere. "We shall get somewhere or +other!" And they did indeed get somewhere, though not to their right +places; a few eventually even got to their right place, but too late +to be of any use and only in time to be fired at. Toll, who in this +battle played the part of Weyrother at Austerlitz, galloped +assiduously from place to place, finding everything upside down +everywhere. Thus he stumbled on Bagovut's corps in a wood when it +was already broad daylight, though the corps should long before have +joined Orlov-Denisov. Excited and vexed by the failure and supposing +that someone must be responsible for it, Toll galloped up to the +commander of the corps and began upbraiding him severely, saying +that he ought to be shot. General Bagovut, a fighting old soldier of +placid temperament, being also upset by all the delay, confusion, +and cross-purposes, fell into a rage to everybody's surprise and quite +contrary to his usual character and said disagreeable things to Toll. + +"I prefer not to take lessons from anyone, but I can die with my men +as well as anybody," he said, and advanced with a single division. + +Coming out onto a field under the enemy's fire, this brave general +went straight ahead, leading his men under fire, without considering +in his agitation whether going into action now, with a single +division, would be of any use or no. Danger, cannon balls, and bullets +were just what he needed in his angry mood. One of the first bullets +killed him, and other bullets killed many of his men. And his division +remained under fire for some time quite uselessly. + +CHAPTER VII + +Meanwhile another column was to have attacked the French from the +front, but Kutuzov accompanied that column. He well knew that +nothing but confusion would come of this battle undertaken against his +will, and as far as was in his power held the troops back. He did +not advance. + +He rode silently on his small gray horse, indolently answering +suggestions that they should attack. + +"The word attack is always on your tongue, but you don't see that we +are unable to execute complicated maneuvers," said he to +Miloradovich who asked permission to advance. + +"We couldn't take Murat prisoner this morning or get to the place in +time, and nothing can be done now!" he replied to someone else. + +When Kutuzov was informed that at the French rear- where according +to the reports of the Cossacks there had previously been nobody- there +were now two battalions of Poles, he gave a sidelong glance at Ermolov +who was behind him and to whom he had not spoken since the previous +day. + +"You see! They are asking to attack and making plans of all kinds, +but as soon as one gets to business nothing is ready, and the enemy, +forewarned, takes measures accordingly." + +Ermolov screwed up his eyes and smiled faintly on hearing these +words. He understood that for him the storm had blown over, and that +Kutuzov would content himself with that hint. + +"He's having a little fun at my expense," said Ermolov softly, +nudging with his knee Raevski who was at his side. + +Soon after this, Ermolov moved up to Kutuzov and respectfully +remarked: + +"It is not too late yet, your Highness- the enemy has not gone away- +if you were to order an attack! If not, the Guards will not so much as +see a little smoke." + +Kutuzov did not reply, but when they reported to him that Murat's +troops were in retreat he ordered an advance, though at every +hundred paces he halted for three quarters of an hour. + +The whole battle consisted in what Orlov-Denisov's Cossacks had +done: the rest of the army merely lost some hundreds of men uselessly. + +In consequence of this battle Kutuzov received a diamond decoration, +and Bennigsen some diamonds and a hundred thousand rubles, others also +received pleasant recognitions corresponding to their various +grades, and following the battle fresh changes were made in the staff. + +"That's how everything is done with us, all topsy-turvy!" said the +Russian officers and generals after the Tarutino battle, letting it be +understood that some fool there is doing things all wrong but that +we ourselves should not have done so, just as people speak today. +But people who talk like that either do not know what they are talking +about or deliberately deceive themselves. No battle- Tarutino, +Borodino, or Austerlitz- takes place as those who planned it +anticipated. That is an essential condition. + +A countless number of free forces (for nowhere is man freer than +during a battle, where it is a question of life and death) influence +the course taken by the fight, and that course never can be known in +advance and never coincides with the direction of any one force. + +If many simultaneously and variously directed forces act on a +given body, the direction of its motion cannot coincide with any one +of those forces, but will always be a mean- what in mechanics is +represented by the diagonal of a parallelogram of forces. + +If in the descriptions given by historians, especially French +ones, we find their wars and battles carried out in accordance with +previously formed plans, the only conclusion to be drawn is that those +descriptions are false. + +The battle of Tarutino obviously did not attain the aim Toll had +in view- to lead the troops into action in the order prescribed by the +dispositions; nor that which Count Orlov-Denisov may have had in view- +to take Murat prisoner; nor the result of immediately destroying the +whole corps, which Bennigsen and others may have had in view; nor +the aim of the officer who wished to go into action to distinguish +himself; nor that of the Cossack who wanted more booty than he got, +and so on. But if the aim of the battle was what actually resulted and +what all the Russians of that day desired- to drive the French out +of Russia and destroy their army- it is quite clear that the battle of +Tarutino, just because of its incongruities, was exactly what was +wanted at that stage of the campaign. It would be difficult and even +impossible to imagine any result more opportune than the actual +outcome of this battle. With a minimum of effort and insignificant +losses, despite the greatest confusion, the most important results +of the whole campaign were attained: the transition from retreat to +advance, an exposure of the weakness of the French, and the +administration of that shock which Napoleon's army had only awaited to +begin its flight. + +CHAPTER VIII + +Napoleon enters Moscow after the brilliant victory de la Moskowa; +there can be no doubt about the victory for the battlefield remains in +the hands of the French. The Russians retreat and abandon their +ancient capital. Moscow, abounding in provisions, arms, munitions, and +incalculable wealth, is in Napoleon's hands. The Russian army, only +half the strength of the French, does not make a single attempt to +attack for a whole month. Napoleon's position is most brilliant. He +can either fall on the Russian army with double its strength and +destroy it; negotiate an advantageous peace, or in case of a refusal +make a menacing move on Petersburg, or even, in the case of a reverse, +return to Smolensk or Vilna; or remain in Moscow; in short, no special +genius would seem to be required to retain the brilliant position +the French held at that time. For that, only very simple and easy +steps were necessary: not to allow the troops to loot, to prepare +winter clothing- of which there was sufficient in Moscow for the whole +army- and methodically to collect the provisions, of which +(according to the French historians) there were enough in Moscow to +supply the whole army for six months. Yet Napoleon, that greatest of +all geniuses, who the historians declare had control of the army, took +none of these steps. + +He not merely did nothing of the kind, but on the contrary he used +his power to select the most foolish and ruinous of all the courses +open to him. Of all that Napoleon might have done: wintering in +Moscow, advancing on Petersburg or on Nizhni-Novgorod, or retiring +by a more northerly or more southerly route (say by the road Kutuzov +afterwards took), nothing more stupid or disastrous can be imagined +than what he actually did. He remained in Moscow till October, letting +the troops plunder the city; then, hesitating whether to leave a +garrison behind him, he quitted Moscow, approached Kutuzov without +joining battle, turned to the right and reached Malo-Yaroslavets, +again without attempting to break through and take the road Kutuzov +took, but retiring instead to Mozhaysk along the devastated Smolensk +road. Nothing more stupid than that could have been devised, or more +disastrous for the army, as the sequel showed. Had Napoleon's aim been +to destroy his army, the most skillful strategist could hardly have +devised any series of actions that would so completely have +accomplished that purpose, independently of anything the Russian +army might do. + +Napoleon, the man of genius, did this! But to say that he +destroyed his army because he wished to, or because he was very +stupid, would be as unjust as to say that he had brought his troops to +Moscow because he wished to and because he was very clever and a +genius. + +In both cases his personal activity, having no more force than the +personal activity of any soldier, merely coincided with the laws +that guided the event. + +The historians quite falsely represent Napoleon's faculties as +having weakened in Moscow, and do so only because the results did +not justify his actions. He employed all his ability and strength to +do the best he could for himself and his army, as he had done +previously and as he did subsequently in 1813. His activity at that +time was no less astounding than it was in Egypt, in Italy, in +Austria, and in Prussia. We do not know for certain in how far his +genius was genuine in Egypt- where forty centuries looked down upon +his grandeur- for his great exploits there are all told us by +Frenchmen. We cannot accurately estimate his genius in Austria or +Prussia, for we have to draw our information from French or German +sources, and the incomprehensible surrender of whole corps without +fighting and of fortresses without a siege must incline Germans to +recognize his genius as the only explanation of the war carried on +in Germany. But we, thank God, have no need to recognize his genius in +order to hide our shame. We have paid for the right to look at the +matter plainly and simply, and we will not abandon that right. + +His activity in Moscow was as amazing and as full of genius as +elsewhere. Order after order order and plan after plan were issued +by him from the time he entered Moscow till the time he left it. The +absence of citizens and of a deputation, and even the burning of +Moscow, did not disconcert him. He did not lose sight either of the +welfare of his army or of the doings of the enemy, or of the welfare +of the people of Russia, or of the direction of affairs in Paris, or +of diplomatic considerations concerning the terms of the anticipated +peace. + +CHAPTER IX + +With regard to military matters, Napoleon immediately on his entry +into Moscow gave General Sabastiani strict orders to observe the +movements of the Russian army, sent army corps out along the different +roads, and charged Murat to find Kutuzov. Then he gave careful +directions about the fortification of the Kremlin, and drew up a +brilliant plan for a future campaign over the whole map of Russia. + +With regard to diplomatic questions, Napoleon summoned Captain +Yakovlev, who had been robbed and was in rags and did not know how +to get out of Moscow, minutely explained to him his whole policy and +his magnanimity, and having written a letter to the Emperor +Alexander in which he considered it his duty to inform his Friend +and Brother that Rostopchin had managed affairs badly in Moscow, he +dispatched Yakovlev to Petersburg. + +Having similarly explained his views and his magnanimity to +Tutolmin, he dispatched that old man also to Petersburg to negotiate. + +With regard to legal matters, immediately after the fires he gave +orders to find and execute the incendiaries. And the scoundrel +Rostopchin was punished by an order to burn down his houses. + +With regard to administrative matters, Moscow was granted a +constitution. A municipality was established and the following +announcement issued: + +INHABITANTS OF MOSCOW! + +Your misfortunes are cruel, but His Majesty the Emperor and King +desires to arrest their course. Terrible examples have taught you +how he punishes disobedience and crime. Strict measures have been +taken to put an end to disorder and to re-establish public security. A +paternal administration, chosen from among yourselves, will form +your municipality or city government. It will take care of you, of +your needs, and of your welfare. Its members will be distinguished +by a red ribbon worn across the shoulder, and the mayor of the city +will wear a white belt as well. But when not on duty they will only +wear a red ribbon round the left arm. + +The city police is established on its former footing, and better +order already prevails in consequence of its activity. The +government has appointed two commissaries general, or chiefs of +police, and twenty commissaries or captains of wards have been +appointed to the different wards of the city. You will recognize +them by the white ribbon they will wear on the left arm. Several +churches of different denominations are open, and divine service is +performed in them unhindered. Your fellow citizens are returning every +day to their homes. and orders have been given that they should find +in them the help and protection due to their misfortunes. These are +the measures the government has adopted to re-establish order and +relieve youp condition. But to achieve this aim it is necessary that +you should add your efforts and should, if possible, forget the +misfortunes you have suffered, should entertain the hope of a less +cruel fate, should be certain that inevitable and ignominious death +awaits those who make any attempt on your persons or on what remains +of your property, and finally that you should not doubt that these +will be safeguarded, since such is the will of the greatest and most +just of monarchs. Soldiers and citizens, of whatever nation you may +be, re-establish public confidence, the source of the welfare of a +state, live like brothers, render mutual aid and protection one to +another, unite to defeat the intentions of the evil-minded, obey the +military and civil authorities, and your tears will soon cease to +flow! + +With regard to supplies for the army, Napoleon decreed that all +the troops in turn should enter Moscow a la maraude~^ to obtain +provisions for themselves, so that the army might have its future +provided for. + +^~ As looters. + +With regard to religion, Napoleon ordered the priests to be +brought back and services to be again performed in the churches. + +With regard to commerce and to provisioning the army, the +following was placarded everywhere: + +PROCLAMATION! + +You, peaceful inhabitants of Moscow, artisans and workmen whom +misfortune has driven from the city, and you scattered tillers of +the soil, still kept out in the fields by groundless fear, listen! +Tranquillity is returning to this capital and order is being +restored in it. Your fellow countrymen are emerging boldly from +their hiding places on finding that they are respected. Any violence +to them or to their property is promptly punished. His Majesty the +Emperor and King protects them, and considers no one among you his +enemy except those who disobey his orders. He desires to end your +misfortunes and restore you to your homes and families. Respond, +therefore, to his benevolent intentions and come to us without fear. +Inhabitants, return with confidence to your abodes! You will soon find +means of satisfying your needs. Craftsmen and industrious artisans, +return to your work, your houses, your shops, where the protection +of guards awaits you! You shall receive proper pay for your work. +And lastly you too, peasants, come from the forests where you are +hiding in terror, return to your huts without fear, in full +assurance that you will find protection! Markets are established in +the city where peasants can bring their surplus supplies and the +products of the soil. The government has taken the following steps +to ensure freedom of sale for them: (1) From today, peasants, +husbandmen, and those living in the neighborhood of Moscow may without +any danger bring their supplies of all kinds to two appointed markets, +of which one is on the Mokhovaya Street and the other at the Provision +Market. (2) Such supplies will be bought from them at such prices as +seller and buyer may agree on, and if a seller is unable to obtain a +fair price he will be free to take his goods back to his village and +no one may hinder him under any pretense. (3) Sunday and Wednesday +of each week are appointed as the chief market days and to that end +a sufficient number of troops will be stationed along the highroads on +Tuesdays and Saturdays at such distances from the town as to protect +the carts. (4) Similar measures will be taken that peasants with their +carts and horses may meet with no hindrance on their return journey. +(5) Steps will immediately be taken to re-establish ordinary trading. + +Inhabitants of the city and villages, and you, workingmen and +artisans, to whatever nation you belong, you are called on to carry +out the paternal intentions of His Majesty the Emperor and King and to +co-operate with him for the public welfare! Lay your respect and +confidence at his feet and do not delay to unite with us! + +With the object of raising the spirits of the troops and of the +people, reviews were constantly held and rewards distributed. The +Emperor rode through the streets to comfort the inhabitants, and, +despite his preoccupation with state affairs, himself visited the +theaters that were established by his order. + +In regard to philanthropy, the greatest virtue of crowned heads, +Napoleon also did all in his power. He caused the words Maison de ma +Mere to be inscribed on the charitable institutions, thereby combining +tender filial affection with the majestic benevolence of a monarch. He +visited the Foundling Hospital and, allowing the orphans saved by +him to kiss his white hands, graciously conversed with Tutolmin. Then, +as Thiers eloquently recounts, he ordered his soldiers to be paid in +forged Russian money which he had prepared: "Raising the use of +these means by an act worthy of himself and of the French army, he let +relief be distributed to those who had been burned out. But as food +was too precious to be given to foreigners, who were for the most part +enemies, Napoleon preferred to supply them with money with which to +purchase food from outside, and had paper rubles distributed to them." + +With reference to army discipline, orders were continually being +issued to inflict severe punishment for the nonperformance of military +duties and to suppress robbery. + +CHAPTER X + +But strange to say, all these measures, efforts, and plans- which +were not at all worse than others issued in similar circumstances- did +not affect the essence of the matter but, like the hands of a clock +detached from the mechanism, swung about in an arbitrary and aimless +way without engaging the cogwheels. + +With reference to the military side- the plan of campaign- that work +of genius of which Thiers remarks that, "His genius never devised +anything more profound, more skillful, or more admirable," and +enters into a polemic with M. Fain to prove that this work of genius +must be referred not to the fourth but to the fifteenth of October- +that plan never was or could be executed, for it was quite out of +touch with the facts of the case. The fortifying of the Kremlin, for +which la Mosquee (as Napoleon termed the church of Basil the +Beatified) was to have been razed to the ground, proved quite useless. +The mining of the Kremlin only helped toward fulfilling Napoleon's +wish that it should be blown up when he left Moscow- as a child +wants the floor on which he has hurt himself to be beaten. The pursuit +of the Russian army, about which Napoleon was so concerned, produced +an unheard-of result. The French generals lost touch with the +Russian army of sixty thousand men, and according to Thiers it was +only eventually found, like a lost pin, by the skill- and apparently +the genius- of Murat. + +With reference to diplomacy, all Napoleon's arguments as to his +magnanimity and justice, both to Tutolmin and to Yakovlev (whose chief +concern was to obtain a greatcoat and a conveyance), proved useless; +Alexander did not receive these envoys and did not reply to their +embassage. + +With regard to legal matters, after the execution of the supposed +incendiaries the rest of Moscow burned down. + +With regard to administrative matters, the establishment of a +municipality did not stop the robberies and was only of use to certain +people who formed part of that municipality and under pretext of +preserving order looted Moscow or saved their own property from +being looted. + +With regard to religion, as to which in Egypt matters had so +easily been settled by Napoleon's visit to a mosque, no results were +achieved. Two or three priests who were found in Moscow did try to +carry out Napoleon's wish, but one of them was slapped in the face +by a French soldier while conducting service, and a French official +reported of another that: "The priest whom I found and invited to +say Mass cleaned and locked up the church. That night the doors were +again broken open, the padlocks smashed, the books mutilated, and +other disorders perpetrated." + +With reference to commerce, the proclamation to industrious +workmen and to peasants evoked no response. There were no +industrious workmen, and the peasants caught the commissaries who +ventured too far out of town with the proclamation and killed them. + +As to the theaters for the entertainment of the people and the +troops, these did not meet with success either. The theaters set up in +the Kremlin and in Posnyakov's house were closed again at once because +the actors and actresses were robbed. + +Even philanthropy did not have the desired effect. The genuine as +well as the false paper money which flooded Moscow lost its value. The +French, collecting booty, cared only for gold. Not only was the +paper money valueless which Napoleon so graciously distributed to +the unfortunate, but even silver lost its value in relation to gold. + +But the most amazing example of the ineffectiveness of the orders +given by the authorities at that time was Napoleon's attempt to stop +the looting and re-establish discipline. + +This is what the army authorities were reporting: + +"Looting continues in the city despite the decrees against it. Order +is not yet restored and not a single merchant is carrying on trade +in a lawful manner. The sutlers alone venture to trade, and they +sell stolen goods." + +"The neighborhood of my ward continues to be pillaged by soldiers of +the 3rd Corps who, not satisfied with taking from the unfortunate +inhabitants hiding in the cellars the little they have left, even have +the ferocity to wound them with their sabers, as I have repeatedly +witnessed." + +"Nothing new, except that the soldiers are robbing and pillaging- +October 9." + +"Robbery and pillaging continue. There is a band of thieves in our +district who ought to be arrested by a strong force- October 11." + +"The Emperor is extremely displeased that despite the strict +orders to stop pillage, parties of marauding Guards are continually +seen returning to the Kremlin. Among the Old Guard disorder and +pillage were renewed more violently than ever yesterday evening, +last night, and today. The Emperor sees with regret that the picked +soldiers appointed to guard his person, who should set an example of +discipline, carry disobedience to such a point that they break into +the cellars and stores containing army supplies. Others have disgraced +themselves to the extent of disobeying sentinels and officers, and +have abused and beaten them." + +"The Grand Marshal of the palace," wrote the governor, "complains +bitterly that in spite of repeated orders, the soldiers continue to +commit nuisances in all the courtyards and even under the very windows +of the Emperor." + +That army, like a herd of cattle run wild and trampling underfoot +the provender which might have saved it from starvation, disintegrated +and perished with each additional day it remained in Moscow. But it +did not go away. + +It began to run away only when suddenly seized by a panic caused +by the capture of transport trains on the Smolensk road, and by the +battle of Tarutino. The news of that battle of Tarutino, +unexpectedly received by Napoleon at a review, evoked in him a +desire to punish the Russians (Thiers says), and he issued the order +for departure which the whole army was demanding. + +Fleeing from Moscow the soldiers took with them everything they +had stolen. Napoleon, too, carried away his own personal tresor, but +on seeing the baggage trains that impeded the army, he was (Thiers +says) horror-struck. And yet with his experience of war he did not +order all the superfluous vehicles to be burned, as he had done with +those of a certain marshal when approaching Moscow. He gazed at the +caleches and carriages in which soldiers were riding and remarked that +it was a very good thing, as those vehicles could be used to carry +provisions, the sick, and the wounded. + +The plight of the whole army resembled that of a wounded animal +which feels it is perishing and does not know what it is doing. To +study the skillful tactics and aims of Napoleon and his army from +the time it entered Moscow till it was destroyed is like studying +the dying leaps and shudders of a mortally wounded animal. Very +often a wounded animal, hearing a rustle, rushes straight at the +hunter's gun, runs forward and back again, and hastens its own end. +Napoleon, under pressure from his whole army, did the same thing. +The rustle of the battle of Tarutino frightened the beast, and it +rushed forward onto the hunter's gun, reached him, turned back, and +finally- like any wild beast- ran back along the most +disadvantageous and dangerous path, where the old scent was familiar. + +During the whole of that period Napoleon, who seems to us to have +been the leader of all these movements- as the figurehead of a ship +may seem to a savage to guide the vessel- acted like a child who, +holding a couple of strings inside a carriage, thinks he is driving +it. + +CHAPTER XI + +Early in the morning of the sixth of October Pierre went out of +the shed, and on returning stopped by the door to play with a little +blue-gray dog, with a long body and short bandy legs, that jumped +about him. This little dog lived in their shed, sleeping beside +Karataev at night; it sometimes made excursions into the town but +always returned again. Probably it had never had an owner, and it +still belonged to nobody and had no name. The French called it Azor; +the soldier who told stories called it Femgalka; Karataev and others +called it Gray, or sometimes Flabby. Its lack of a master, a name, +or even of a breed or any definite color did not seem to trouble the +blue-gray dog in the least. Its furry tail stood up firm and round +as a plume, its bandy legs served it so well that it would often +gracefully lift a hind leg and run very easily and quickly on three +legs, as if disdaining to use all four. Everything pleased it. Now +it would roll on its back, yelping with delight, now bask in the sun +with a thoughtful air of importance, and now frolic about playing with +a chip of wood or a straw. + +Pierre's attire by now consisted of a dirty torn shirt (the only +remnant of his former clothing), a pair of soldier's trousers which by +Karataev's advice he tied with string round the ankles for warmth, and +a peasant coat and cap. Physically he had changed much during this +time. He no longer seemed stout, though he still had the appearance of +solidity and strength hereditary in his family. A beard and mustache +covered the lower part of his face, and a tangle of hair, infested +with lice, curled round his head like a cap. The look of his eyes +was resolute, calm, and animatedly alert, as never before. The +former slackness which had shown itself even in his eyes was now +replaced by an energetic readiness for action and resistance. His feet +were bare. + +Pierre first looked down the field across which vehicles and +horsemen were passing that morning, then into the distance across +the river, then at the dog who was pretending to be in earnest about +biting him, and then at his bare feet which he placed with pleasure in +various positions, moving his dirty thick big toes. Every time he +looked at his bare feet a smile of animated self-satisfaction +flitted across his face. The sight of them reminded him of all he +had experienced and learned during these weeks and this recollection +was pleasant to him. + +For some days the weather had been calm and clear with slight frosts +in the mornings- what is called an "old wives' summer." + +In the sunshine the air was warm, and that warmth was particularly +pleasant with the invigorating freshness of the morning frost still in +the air. + +On everything- far and near- lay the magic crystal glitter seen only +at that time autumn. The Sparrow Hills were visible in the distance, +with the village, the church, and the large white house. The bare +trees, the sand, the bricks and roofs of the houses, the green +church spire, and the corners of the white house in the distance, +all stood out in the transparent air in most delicate outline and with +unnatural clearness. Near by could be seen the familiar ruins of a +half-burned mansion occupied by the French, with lilac bushes still +showing dark green beside the fence. And even that ruined and befouled +house- which in dull weather was repulsively ugly- seemed quietly +beautiful now, in the clear, motionless brilliance. + +A French corporal, with coat unbuttoned in a homely way, a +skullcap on his head, and a short pipe in his mouth, came from +behind a corner of the shed and approached Pierre with a friendly +wink. + +"What sunshine, Monsieur Kiril!" (Their name for Pierre.) "Eh? +Just like spring!" + +And the corporal leaned against the door and offered Pierre his +pipe, though whenever he offered it Pierre always declined it. + +"To be on the march in such weather..." he began. + +Pierre inquired what was being said about leaving, and the +corporal told him that nearly all the troops were starting and there +ought to be an order about the prisoners that day. Sokolov, one of the +soldiers in the shed with Pierre, was dying, and Pierre told the +corporal that something should be done about him. The corporal replied +that Pierre need not worry about that as they had an ambulance and a +permanent hospital and arrangements would be made for the sick, and +that in general everything that could happen had been foreseen by +the authorities. + +"Besides, Monsieur Kiril, you have only to say a word to the +captain, you know. He is a man who never forgets anything. Speak to +the captain when he makes his round, he will do anything for you." + +(The captain of whom the corporal spoke often had long chats with +Pierre and showed him all sorts of favors.) + +"'You see, St. Thomas,' he said to me the other day. 'Monsieur Kiril +is a man of education, who speaks French. He is a Russian seigneur who +has had misfortunes, but he is a man. He knows what's what.... If he +wants anything and asks me, he won't get a refusal. When one has +studied, you see, one likes education and well-bred people.' It is for +your sake I mention it, Monsieur Kiril. The other day if it had not +been for you that affair would have ended ill." + +And after chatting a while longer, the corporal went away. (The +affair he had alluded to had happened a few days before- a fight +between the prisoners and the French soldiers, in which Pierre had +succeeded in pacifying his comrades.) Some of the prisoners who had +heard Pierre talking to the corporal immediately asked what the +Frenchman had said. While Pierre was repeating what he had been told +about the army leaving Moscow, a thin, sallow, tattered French soldier +came up to the door of the shed. Rapidly and timidly raising his +fingers to his forehead by way of greeting, he asked Pierre whether +the soldier Platoche to whom he had given a shirt to sew was in that +shed. + +A week before the French had had boot leather and linen issued to +them, which they had given out to the prisoners to make up into +boots and shirts for them. + +"Ready, ready, dear fellow!" said Karataev, coming out with a neatly +folded shirt. + +Karataev, on account of the warm weather and for convenience at +work, was wearing only trousers and a tattered shirt as black as soot. +His hair was bound round, workman fashion, with a wisp of lime-tree +bast, and his round face seemed rounder and pleasanter than ever. + +"A promise is own brother to performance! I said Friday and here +it is, ready," said Platon, smiling and unfolding the shirt he had +sewn. + +The Frenchman glanced around uneasily and then, as if overcoming his +hesitation, rapidly threw off his uniform and put on the shirt. He had +a long, greasy, flowered silk waistcoat next to his sallow, thin +bare body, but no shirt. He was evidently afraid the prisoners looking +on would laugh at him, and thrust his head into the shirt hurriedly. +None of the prisoners said a word. + +"See, it fits well!" Platon kept repeating, pulling the shirt +straight. + +The Frenchman, having pushed his head and hands through, without +raising his eyes, looked down at the shirt and examined the seams. + +"You see, dear man, this is not a sewing shop, and I had no proper +tools; and, as they say, one needs a tool even to kill a louse," +said Platon with one of his round smiles, obviously pleased with his +work. + +"It's good, quite good, thank you," said the Frenchman, in French, +"but there must be some linen left over. + +"It will fit better still when it sets to your body," said Karataev, +still admiring his handiwork. "You'll be nice and comfortable...." + +"Thanks, thanks, old fellow.... But the bits left over?" said the +Frenchman again and smiled. He took out an assignation ruble note +and gave it to Karataev. "But give me the pieces that are over." + +Pierre saw that Platon did not want to understand what the Frenchman +was saying, and he looked on without interfering. Karataev thanked the +Frenchman for the money and went on admiring his own work. The +Frenchman insisted on having the pieces returned that were left over +and asked Pierre to translate what he said. + +"What does he want the bits for?" said Karataev. "They'd make fine +leg bands for us. Well, never mind." + +And Karataev, with a suddenly changed and saddened expression, +took a small bundle of scraps from inside his shirt and gave it to the +Frenchman without looking at him. "Oh dear!" muttered Karataev and +went away. The Frenchman looked at the linen, considered for a moment, +then looked inquiringly at Pierre and, as if Pierre's look had told +him something, suddenly blushed and shouted in a squeaky voice: + +"Platoche! Eh, Platoche! Keep them yourself!" And handing back the +odd bits he turned and went out. + +"There, look at that," said Karataev, swaying his head. "People said +they were not Christians, but they too have souls. It's what the old +folk used to say: 'A sweating hand's an open hand, a dry hand's +close.' He's naked, but yet he's given it back." + +Karataev smiled thoughtfully and was silent awhile looking at the +pieces. + +"But they'll make grand leg bands, dear friend," he said, and went +back into the shed. + +CHAPTER XII + +Four weeks had passed since Pierre had been taken prisoner and +though the French had offered to move him from the men's to the +officers' shed, he had stayed in the shed where he was first put. + +In burned and devastated Moscow Pierre experienced almost the +extreme limits of privation a man can endure; but thanks to his +physical strength and health, of which he had till then been +unconscious, and thanks especially to the fact that the privations +came so gradually that it was impossible to say when they began, he +endured his position not only lightly but joyfully. And just at this +time he obtained the tranquillity and ease of mind he had formerly +striven in vain to reach. He had long sought in different ways that +tranquillity of mind, that inner harmony which had so impressed him in +the soldiers at the battle of Borodino. He had sought it in +philanthropy, in Freemasonry, in the dissipations of town life, in +wine, in heroic feats of self-sacrifice, and in romantic love for +Natasha; he had sought it by reasoning- and all these quests and +experiments had failed him. And now without thinking about it he had +found that peace and inner harmony only through the horror of death, +through privation, and through what he recognized in Karataev. + +Those dreadful moments he had lived through at the executions had as +it were forever washed away from his imagination and memory the +agitating thoughts and feelings that had formerly seemed so important. +It did not now occur to him to think of Russia, or the war, or +politics, or Napoleon. It was plain to him that all these things +were no business of his, and that he was not called on to judge +concerning them and therefore could not do so. "Russia and summer +weather are not bound together," he thought, repeating words of +Karataev's which he found strangely consoling. His intention of +killing Napoleon and his calculations of the cabalistic number of +the beast of the Apocalypse now seemed to him meaningless and even +ridiculous. His anger with his wife and anxiety that his name should +not be smirched now seemed not merely trivial but even amusing. What +concern was it of his that somewhere or other that woman was leading +the life she preferred? What did it matter to anybody, and +especially to him, whether or not they found out that their prisoner's +name was Count Bezukhov? + +He now often remembered his conversation with Prince Andrew and +quite agreed with him, though he understood Prince Andrew's thoughts +somewhat differently. Prince Andrew had thought and said that +happiness could only be negative, but had said it with a shade of +bitterness and irony as though he was really saying that all desire +for positive happiness is implanted in us merely to torment us and +never be satisfied. But Pierre believed it without any mental +reservation. The absence of suffering, the satisfaction of one's needs +and consequent freedom in the choice of one's occupation, that is, +of one's way of life, now seemed to Pierre to be indubitably man's +highest happiness. Here and now for the first time he fully +appreciated the enjoyment of eating when he wanted to eat, drinking +when he wanted to drink, sleeping when he wanted to sleep, of warmth +when he was cold, of talking to a fellow man when he wished to talk +and to hear a human voice. The satisfaction of one's needs- good food, +cleanliness, and freedom- now that he was deprived of all this, seemed +to Pierre to constitute perfect happiness; and the choice of +occupation, that is, of his way of life- now that that was so +restricted- seemed to him such an easy matter that he forgot that a +superfluity of the comforts of life destroys all joy in satisfying +one's needs, while great freedom in the choice of occupation- such +freedom as his wealth, his education, and his social position had +given him in his own life- is just what makes the choice of occupation +insolubly difficult and destroys the desire and possibility of +having an occupation. + +All Pierre's daydreams now turned on the time when he would be free. +Yet subsequently, and for the rest of his life, he thought and spoke +with enthusiasm of that month of captivity, of those irrecoverable, +strong, joyful sensations, and chiefly of the complete peace of mind +and inner freedom which he experienced only during those weeks. + +When on the first day he got up early, went out of the shed at dawn, +and saw the cupolas and crosses of the New Convent of the Virgin still +dark at first, the hoarfrost on the dusty grass, the Sparrow Hills, +and the wooded banks above the winding river vanishing in the purple +distance, when he felt the contact of the fresh air and heard the +noise of the crows flying from Moscow across the field, and when +afterwards light gleamed from the east and the sun's rim appeared +solemnly from behind a cloud, and the cupolas and crosses, the +hoarfrost, the distance and the river, all began to sparkle in the +glad light- Pierre felt a new joy and strength in life such as he +had never before known. And this not only stayed with him during the +whole of his imprisonment, but even grew in strength as the +hardships of his position increased. + +That feeling of alertness and of readiness for anything was still +further strengthened in him by the high opinion his fellow prisoners +formed of him soon after his arrival at the shed. With his knowledge +of languages, the respect shown him by the French, his simplicity, his +readiness to give anything asked of him (he received the allowance +of three rubles a week made to officers); with his strength, which +he showed to the soldiers by pressing nails into the walls of the hut; +his gentleness to his companions, and his capacity for sitting still +and thinking without doing anything (which seemed to them +incomprehensible), he appeared to them a rather mysterious and +superior being. The very qualities that had been a hindrance, if not +actually harmful, to him in the world he had lived in- his strength, +his disdain for the comforts of life, his absent-mindedness and +simplicity- here among these people gave him almost the status of a +hero. And Pierre felt that their opinion placed responsibilities +upon him. + +CHAPTER XIII + +The French evacuation began on the night between the sixth and +seventh of October: kitchens and sheds were dismantled, carts +loaded, and troops and baggage trains started. + +At seven in the morning a French convoy in marching trim, wearing +shakos and carrying muskets, knapsacks, and enormous sacks, stood in +front of the sheds, and animated French talk mingled with curses +sounded all along the lines. + +In the shed everyone was ready, dressed, belted, shod, and only +awaited the order to start. The sick soldier, Sokolov, pale and thin +with dark shadows round his eyes, alone sat in his place barefoot +and not dressed. His eyes, prominent from the emaciation of his +face, gazed inquiringly at his comrades who were paying no attention +to him, and he moaned regularly and quietly. It was evidently not so +much his sufferings that caused him to moan (he had dysentery) as +his fear and grief at being left alone. + +Pierre, girt with a rope round his waist and wearing shoes +Karataev had made for him from some leather a French soldier had +torn off a tea chest and brought to have his boots mended with, went +up to the sick man and squatted down beside him. + +"You know, Sokolov, they are not all going away! They have a +hospital here. You may be better off than we others," said Pierre. + +"O Lord! Oh, it will be the death of me! O Lord!" moaned the man +in a louder voice. + +"I'll go and ask them again directly," said Pierre, rising and going +to the door of the shed. + +Just as Pierre reached the door, the corporal who had offered him +a pipe the day before came up to it with two soldiers. The corporal +and soldiers were in marching kit with knapsacks and shakos that had +metal straps, and these changed their familiar faces. + +The corporal came, according to orders, to shut the door. The +prisoners had to be counted before being let out. + +"Corporal, what will they do with the sick man?..." Pierre began. + +But even as he spoke he began to doubt whether this was the corporal +he knew or a stranger, so unlike himself did the corporal seem at that +moment. Moreover, just as Pierre was speaking a sharp rattle of +drums was suddenly heard from both sides. The corporal frowned at +Pierre's words and, uttering some meaningless oaths, slammed the door. +The shed became semidark, and the sharp rattle of the drums on two +sides drowned the sick man's groans. + +"There it is!... It again!..." said Pierre to himself, and an +involuntary shudder ran down his spine. In the corporal's changed +face, in the sound of his voice, in the stirring and deafening noise +of the drums, he recognized that mysterious, callous force which +compelled people against their will to kill their fellow men- that +force the effect of which he had witnessed during the executions. To +fear or to try to escape that force, to address entreaties or +exhortations to those who served as its tools, was useless. Pierre +knew this now. One had to wait and endure. He did not again go to +the sick man, nor turn to look at him, but stood frowning by the +door of the hut. + +When that door was opened and the prisoners, crowding against one +another like a flock of sheep, squeezed into the exit, Pierre pushed +his way forward and approached that very captain who as the corporal +had assured him was ready to do anything for him. The captain was also +in marching kit, and on his cold face appeared that same it which +Pierre had recognized in the corporal's words and in the roll of the +drums. + +"Pass on, pass on!" the captain reiterated, frowning sternly, and +looking at the prisoners who thronged past him. + +Pierre went up to him, though he knew his attempt would be vain. + +"What now?" the officer asked with a cold look as if not recognizing +Pierre. + +Pierre told him about the sick man. + +"He'll manage to walk, devil take him!" said the captain. "Pass +on, pass on!" he continued without looking at Pierre. + +"But he is dying," Pierre again began. + +"Be so good..." shouted the captain, frowning angrily. + +"Dram-da-da-dam, dam-dam..." rattled the drums, and Pierre +understood that this mysterious force completely controlled these +men and that it was now useless to say any more. + +The officer prisoners were separated from the soldiers and told to +march in front. There were about thirty officers, with Pierre among +them, and about three hundred men. + +The officers, who had come from the other sheds, were all +strangers to Pierre and much better dressed than he. They looked at +him and at his shoes mistrustfully, as at an alien. Not far from him +walked a fat major with a sallow, bloated, angry face, who was wearing +a Kazan dressing grown tied round with a towel, and who evidently +enjoyed the respect of his fellow prisoners. He kept one hand, in +which he clasped his tobacco pouch, inside the bosom of his dressing +gown and held the stem of his pipe firmly with the other. Panting +and puffing, the major grumbled and growled at everybody because he +thought he was being pushed and that they were all hurrying when +they had nowhere to hurry to and were all surprised at something +when there was nothing to be surprised at. Another, a thin little +officer, was speaking to everyone, conjecturing where they were now +being taken and how far they would get that day. An official in felt +boots and wearing a commissariat uniform ran round from side to side +and gazed at the ruins of Moscow, loudly announcing his observations +as to what had been burned down and what this or that part of the city +was that they could see. A third officer, who by his accent was a +Pole, disputed with the commissariat officer, arguing that he was +mistaken in his identification of the different wards of Moscow. + +"What are you disputing about?" said the major angrily. "What does +it matter whether it is St. Nicholas or St. Blasius? You see it's +burned down, and there's an end of it.... What are you pushing for? +Isn't the road wide enough?" said he, turning to a man behind him +who was not pushing him at all. + +"Oh, oh, oh! What have they done?" the prisoners on one side and +another were heard saying as they gazed on the charred ruins. "All +beyond the river, and Zubova, and in the Kremlin.... Just look! +There's not half of it left. Yes, I told you- the whole quarter beyond +the river, and so it is." + +"Well, you know it's burned, so what's the use of talking?" said the +major. + +As they passed near a church in the Khamovniki (one of the few +unburned quarters of Moscow) the whole mass of prisoners suddenly +started to one side and exclamations of horror and disgust were heard. + +"Ah, the villains! What heathens! Yes; dead, dead, so he is... And +smeared with something!" + +Pierre too drew near the church where the thing was that evoked +these exclamations, and dimly made out something leaning against the +palings surrounding the church. From the words of his comrades who saw +better than he did, he found that this was the body of a man, set +upright against the palings with its face smeared with soot. + +"Go on! What the devil... Go on! Thirty thousand devils!..." the +convoy guards began cursing and the French soldiers, with fresh +virulence, drove away with their swords the crowd of prisoners who +were gazing at the dead man. + +CHAPTER XIV + +Through the cross streets of the Khamovniki quarter the prisoners +marched, followed only by their escort and the vehicles and wagons +belonging to that escort, but when they reached the supply stores they +came among a huge and closely packed train of artillery mingled with +private vehicles. + +At the bridge they all halted, waiting for those in front to get +across. From the bridge they had a view of endless lines of moving +baggage trains before and behind them. To the right, where the +Kaluga road turns near Neskuchny, endless rows of troops and carts +stretched away into the distance. These were troops of Beauharnais' +corps which had started before any of the others. Behind, along the +riverside and across the Stone Bridge, were Ney's troops and +transport. + +Davout's troops, in whose charge were the prisoners, were crossing +the Crimean bridge and some were already debouching into the Kaluga +road. But the baggage trains stretched out so that the last of +Beauharnais' train had not yet got out of Moscow and reached the +Kaluga road when the vanguard of Ney's army was already emerging +from the Great Ordynka Street. + +When they had crossed the Crimean bridge the prisoners moved a few +steps forward, halted, and again moved on, and from all sides vehicles +and men crowded closer and closer together. They advanced the few +hundred paces that separated the bridge from the Kaluga road, taking +more than an hour to do so, and came out upon the square where the +streets of the Transmoskva ward and the Kaluga road converge, and +the prisoners jammed close together had to stand for some hours at +that crossway. From all sides, like the roar of the sea, were heard +the rattle of wheels, the tramp of feet, and incessant shouts of anger +and abuse. Pierre stood pressed against the wall of a charred house, +listening to that noise which mingled in his imagination with the roll +of the drums. + +To get a better view, several officer prisoners climbed onto the +wall of the half-burned house against which Pierre was leaning. + +"What crowds! Just look at the crowds!... They've loaded goods +even on the cannon! Look there, those are furs!" they exclaimed. "Just +see what the blackguards have looted.... There! See what that one +has behind in the cart.... Why, those are settings taken from some +icons, by heaven!... Oh, the rascals!... See how that fellow has +loaded himself up, he can hardly walk! Good lord, they've even grabbed +those chaises!... See that fellow there sitting on the trunks.... +Heavens! They're fighting." + +"That's right, hit him on the snout- on his snout! Like this, we +shan't get away before evening. Look, look there.... Why, that must be +Napoleon's own. See what horses! And the monograms with a crown! +It's like a portable house.... That fellow's dropped his sack and +doesn't see it. Fighting again... A woman with a baby, and not +bad-looking either! Yes, I dare say, that's the way they'll let you +pass... Just look, there's no end to it. Russian wenches, by heaven, +so they are! In carriages- see how comfortably they've settled +themselves!" + +Again, as at the church in Khamovniki, a wave of general curiosity +bore all the prisoners forward onto the road, and Pierre, thanks to +his stature, saw over the heads of the others what so attracted +their curiosity. In three carriages involved among the munition carts, +closely squeezed together, sat women with rouged faces, dressed in +glaring colors, who were shouting something in shrill voices. + +From the moment Pierre had recognized the appearance of the +mysterious force nothing had seemed to him strange or dreadful: +neither the corpse smeared with soot for fun nor these women +hurrying away nor the burned ruins of Moscow. All that he now +witnessed scarcely made an impression on him- as if his soul, making +ready for a hard struggle, refused to receive impressions that might +weaken it. + +The women's vehicles drove by. Behind them came more carts, +soldiers, wagons, soldiers, gun carriages, carriages, soldiers, +ammunition carts, more soldiers, and now and then women. + +Pierre did not see the people as individuals but saw their movement. + +All these people and horses seemed driven forward by some +invisible power. During the hour Pierre watched them they all came +flowing from the different streets with one and the same desire to get +on quickly; they all jostled one another, began to grow angry and to +fight, white teeth gleamed, brows frowned, ever the same words of +abuse flew from side to side, and all the faces bore the same +swaggeringly resolute and coldly cruel expression that had struck +Pierre that morning on the corporal's face when the drums were +beating. + +It was not till nearly evening that the officer commanding the +escort collected his men and with shouts and quarrels forced his way +in among the baggage trains, and the prisoners, hemmed in on all +sides, emerged onto the Kaluga road. + +They marched very quickly, without resting, and halted only when the +sun began to set. The baggage carts drew up close together and the men +began to prepare for their night's rest. They all appeared angry and +dissatisfied. For a long time, oaths, angry shouts, and fighting could +be heard from all sides. A carriage that followed the escort ran +into one of the carts and knocked a hole in it with its pole. +Several soldiers ran toward the cart from different sides: some beat +the carriage horses on their heads, turning them aside, others +fought among themselves, and Pierre saw that one German was badly +wounded on the head by a sword. + +It seemed that all these men, now that they had stopped amid +fields in the chill dusk of the autumn evening, experienced one and +the same feeling of unpleasant awakening from the hurry and +eagerness to push on that had seized them at the start. Once at a +standstill they all seemed to understand that they did not yet know +where they were going, and that much that was painful and difficult +awaited them on this journey. + +During this halt the escort treated the prisoners even worse than +they had done at the start. It was here that the prisoners for the +first time received horseflesh for their meat ration. + +From the officer down to the lowest soldier they showed what +seemed like personal spite against each of the prisoners, in +unexpected contrast to their former friendly relations. + +This spite increased still more when, on calling over the roll of +prisoners, it was found that in the bustle of leaving Moscow one +Russian soldier, who had pretended to suffer from colic, had +escaped. Pierre saw a Frenchman beat a Russian soldier cruelly for +straying too far from the road, and heard his friend the captain +reprimand and threaten to court-martial a noncommissioned officer on +account of the escape of the Russian. To the noncommissioned officer's +excuse that the prisoner was ill and could not walk, the officer +replied that the order was to shoot those who lagged behind. Pierre +felt that that fatal force which had crushed him during the +executions, but which be had not felt during his imprisonment, now +again controlled his existence. It was terrible, but he felt that in +proportion to the efforts of that fatal force to crush him, there grew +and strengthened in his soul a power of life independent of it. + +He ate his supper of buckwheat soup with horseflesh and chatted with +his comrades. + +Neither Pierre nor any of the others spoke of what they had seen +in Moscow, or of the roughness of their treatment by the French, or of +the order to shoot them which had been announced to them. As if in +reaction against the worsening of their position they were all +particularly animated and gay. They spoke of personal reminiscences, +of amusing scenes they had witnessed during the campaign, and +avoided all talk of their present situation. + +The sun had set long since. Bright stars shone out here and there in +the sky. A red glow as of a conflagration spread above the horizon +from the rising full moon, and that vast red ball swayed strangely +in the gray haze. It grew light. The evening was ending, but the night +had not yet come. Pierre got up and left his new companions, +crossing between the campfires to the other side of the road where +he had been told the common soldier prisoners were stationed. He +wanted to talk to them. On the road he was stopped by a French +sentinel who ordered him back. + +Pierre turned back, not to his companions by the campfire, but to an +unharnessed cart where there was nobody. Tucking his legs under him +and dropping his head he sat down on the cold ground by the wheel of +the cart and remained motionless a long while sunk in thought. +Suddenly he burst out into a fit of his broad, good-natured +laughter, so loud that men from various sides turned with surprise +to see what this strange and evidently solitary laughter could mean. + +"Ha-ha-ha!" laughed Pierre. And he said aloud to himself: "The +soldier did not let me pass. They took me and shut me up. They hold me +captive. What, me? Me? My immortal soul? Ha-ha-ha! Ha-ha-ha!..." and +he laughed till tears started to his eyes. + +A man got up and came to see what this queer big fellow was laughing +at all by himself. Pierre stopped laughing, got up, went farther +away from the inquisitive man, and looked around him. + +The huge, endless bivouac that had previously resounded with the +crackling of campfires and the voices of many men had grown quiet, the +red campfires were growing paler and dying down. High up in the +light sky hung the full moon. Forests and fields beyond the camp, +unseen before, were now visible in the distance. And farther still, +beyond those forests and fields, the bright, oscillating, limitless +distance lured one to itself. Pierre glanced up at the sky and the +twinkling stars in its faraway depths. "And all that is me, all that +is within me, and it is all I!" thought Pierre. "And they caught all +that and put it into a shed boarded up with planks!" He smiled, and +went and lay down to sleep beside his companions. + +CHAPTER XV + +In the early days of October another envoy came to Kutuzov with a +letter from Napoleon proposing peace and falsely dated from Moscow, +though Napoleon was already not far from Kutuzov on the old Kaluga +road. Kutuzov replied to this letter as he had done to the one +formerly brought by Lauriston, saying that there could be no +question of peace. + +Soon after that a report was received from Dorokhov's guerrilla +detachment operating to the left of Tarutino that troops of +Broussier's division had been seen at Forminsk and that being +separated from the rest of the French army they might easily be +destroyed. The soldiers and officers again demanded action. Generals +on the staff, excited by the memory of the easy victory at Tarutino, +urged Kutuzov to carry out Dorokhov's suggestion. Kutuzov did not +consider any offensive necessary. The result was a compromise which +was inevitable: a small detachment was sent to Forminsk to attack +Broussier. + +By a strange coincidence, this task, which turned out to be a most +difficult and important one, was entrusted to Dokhturov- that same +modest little Dokhturov whom no one had described to us as drawing +up plans of battles, dashing about in front of regiments, showering +crosses on batteries, and so on, and who was thought to be and was +spoken of as undecided and undiscerning- but whom we find commanding +wherever the position was most difficult all through the +Russo-French wars from Austerlitz to the year 1813. At Austerlitz he +remained last at the Augezd dam, rallying the regiments, saving what +was possible when all were flying and perishing and not a single +general was left in the rear guard. Ill with fever he went to Smolensk +with twenty thousand men to defend the town against Napoleon's whole +army. In Smolensk, at the Malakhov Gate, he had hardly dozed off in +a paroxysm of fever before he was awakened by the bombardment of the +town- and Smolensk held out all day long. At the battle of Borodino, +when Bagration was killed and nine tenths of the men of our left flank +had fallen and the full force of the French artillery fire was +directed against it, the man sent there was this same irresolute and +undiscerning Dokhturov- Kutuzov hastening to rectify a mistake he +had made by sending someone else there first. And the quiet little +Dokhturov rode thither, and Borodino became the greatest glory of +the Russian army. Many heroes have been described to us in verse and +prose, but of Dokhturov scarcely a word has been said. + +It was Dokhturov again whom they sent to Forminsk and from there +to Malo-Yaroslavets, the place where the last battle with the French +was fought and where the obvious disintegration of the French army +began; and we are told of many geniuses and heroes of that period of +the campaign, but of Dokhturov nothing or very little is said and that +dubiously. And this silence about Dokhturov is the clearest +testimony to his merit. + +It is natural for a man who does not understand the workings of a +machine to imagine that a shaving that has fallen into it by chance +and is interfering with its action and tossing about in it is its most +important part. The man who does not understand the construction of +the machine cannot conceive that the small connecting cogwheel which +revolves quietly is one of the most essential parts of the machine, +and not the shaving which merely harms and hinders the working. + +On the tenth of October when Dokhturov had gone halfway to +Forminsk and stopped at the village of Aristovo, preparing +faithfully to execute the orders he had received, the whole French +army having, in its convulsive movement, reached Murat's position +apparently in order to give battle- suddenly without any reason turned +off to the left onto the new Kaluga road and began to enter +Forminsk, where only Broussier had been till then. At that time +Dokhturov had under his command, besides Dorokhov's detachment, the +two small guerrilla detachments of Figner and Seslavin. + +On the evening of October 11 Seslavin came to the Aristovo +headquarters with a French guardsman he had captured. The prisoner +said that the troops that had entered Forminsk that day were the +vanguard of the whole army, that Napoleon was there and the whole army +had left Moscow four days previously. That same evening a house serf +who had come from Borovsk said he had seen an immense army entering +the town. Some Cossacks of Dokhturov's detachment reported having +sighted the French Guards marching along the road to Borovsk. From all +these reports it was evident that where they had expected to meet a +single division there was now the whole French army marching from +Moscow in an unexpected direction- along the Kaluga road. Dokhturov +was unwilling to undertake any action, as it was not clear to him +now what he ought to do. He had been ordered to attack Forminsk. But +only Broussier had been there at that time and now the whole French +army was there. Ermolov wished to act on his own judgment, but +Dokhturov insisted that he must have Kutuzov's instructions. So it was +decided to send a dispatch to the staff. + +For this purpose a capable officer, Bolkhovitinov, was chosen, who +was to explain the whole affair by word of mouth, besides delivering a +written report. Toward midnight Bolkhovitinov, having received the +dispatch and verbal instructions, galloped off to the General Staff +accompanied by a Cossack with spare horses. + +CHAPTER XVI + +It was a warm, dark, autumn night. It had been raining for four +days. Having changed horses twice and galloped twenty miles in an hour +and a half over a sticky, muddy road, Bolkhovitinov reached Litashevka +after one o'clock at night. Dismounting at a cottage on whose wattle +fence hung a signboard, GENERAL STAFF, and throwing down his reins, he +entered a dark passage. + +"The general on duty, quick! It's very important!" said he to +someone who had risen and was sniffing in the dark passage. + +"He has been very unwell since the evening and this is the third +night he has not slept," said the orderly pleadingly in a whisper. +"You should wake the captain first." + +"But this is very important, from General Dokhturov," said +Bolkhovitinov, entering the open door which he had found by feeling in +the dark. + +The orderly had gone in before him and began waking somebody. + +"Your honor, your honor! A courier." + +"What? What's that? From whom?" came a sleepy voice. + +"From Dokhturov and from Alexey Petrovich. Napoleon is at Forminsk," +said Bolkhovitinov, unable to see in the dark who was speaking but +guessing by the voice that it was not Konovnitsyn. + +The man who had wakened yawned and stretched himself. + +"I don't like waking him," he said, fumbling for something. "He is +very ill. Perhaps this is only a rumor." + +"Here is the dispatch," said Bolkhovitinov. "My orders are to give +it at once to the general on duty." + +"Wait a moment, I'll light a candle. You damned rascal, where do you +always hide it?" said the voice of the man who was stretching himself, +to the orderly. (This was Shcherbinin, Konovnitsyn's adjutant.) +"I've found it, I've found it!" he added. + +The orderly was striking a light and Shcherbinin was fumbling for +something on the candlestick. + +"Oh, the nasty beasts!" said he with disgust. + +By the light of the sparks Bolkhovitinov saw Shcherbinin's +youthful face as he held the candle, and the face of another man who +was still asleep. This was Konovnitsyn. + +When the flame of the sulphur splinters kindled by the tinder burned +up, first blue and then red, Shcherbinin lit the tallow candle, from +the candlestick of which the cockroaches that had been gnawing it were +running away, and looked at the messenger. Bolkhovitinov was +bespattered all over with mud and had smeared his face by wiping it +with his sleeve. + +"Who gave the report?" inquired Shcherbinin, taking the envelope. + +"The news is reliable," said Bolkhovitinov. "Prisoners, Cossacks, +and the scouts all say the same thing." + +"There's nothing to be done, we'll have to wake him," said +Shcherbinin, rising and going up to the man in the nightcap who lay +covered by a greatcoat. "Peter Petrovich!" said he. (Konovnitsyn did +not stir.) "To the General Staff!" he said with a smile, knowing +that those words would be sure to arouse him. + +And in fact the head in the nightcap was lifted at once. On +Konovnitsyn's handsome, resolute face with cheeks flushed by fever, +there still remained for an instant a faraway dreamy expression remote +from present affairs, but then he suddenly started and his face +assumed its habitual calm and firm appearance. + +"Well, what is it? From whom?" he asked immediately but without +hurry, blinking at the light. + +While listening to the officer's report Konovnitsyn broke the seal +and read the dispatch. Hardly had he done so before he lowered his +legs in their woolen stockings to the earthen floor and began +putting on his boots. Then he took off his nightcap, combed his hair +over his temples, and donned his cap. + +"Did you get here quickly? Let us go to his Highness." + +Konovnitsyn had understood at once that the news brought was of +great importance and that no time must be lost. He did not consider or +ask himself whether the news was good or bad. That did not interest +him. He regarded the whole business of the war not with his +intelligence or his reason but by something else. There was within him +a deep unexpressed conviction that all would be well, but that one +must not trust to this and still less speak about it, but must only +attend to one's own work. And he did his work, giving his whole +strength to the task. + +Peter Petrovich Konovnitsyn, like Dokhturov, seems to have been +included merely for propriety's sake in the list of the so-called +heroes of 1812- the Barclays, Raevskis, Ermolovs, Platovs, and +Miloradoviches. Like Dokhturov he had the reputation of being a man of +very limited capacity and information, and like Dokhturov he never +made plans of battle but was always found where the situation was most +difficult. Since his appointment as general on duty he had always +slept with his door open, giving orders that every messenger should be +allowed to wake him up. In battle he was always under fire, so that +Kutuzov reproved him for it and feared to send him to the front, and +like Dokhturov he was one of those unnoticed cogwheels that, without +clatter or noise, constitute the most essential part of the machine. + +Coming out of the hut into the damp, dark night Konovnitsyn frowned- +partly from an increased pain in his head and partly at the unpleasant +thought that occurred to him, of how all that nest of influential +men on the staff would be stirred up by this news, especially +Bennigsen, who ever since Tarutino had been at daggers drawn with +Kutuzov; and how they would make suggestions, quarrel, issue orders, +and rescind them. And this premonition was disagreeable to him +though he knew it could not be helped. + +And in fact Toll, to whom he went to communicate the news, +immediately began to expound his plans to a general sharing his +quarters, until Konovnitsyn, who listened in weary silence, reminded +him that they must go to see his Highness. + +CHAPTER XVII + +Kutuzov like all old people did not sleep much at night. He often +fell asleep unexpectedly in the daytime, but at night, lying on his +bed without undressing, he generally remained awake thinking. + +So he lay now on his bed, supporting his large, heavy, scarred +head on his plump hand, with his one eye open, meditating and +peering into the darkness. + +Since Bennigsen, who corresponded with the Emperor and had more +influence than anyone else on the staff, had begun to avoid him, +Kutuzov was more at ease as to the possibility of himself and his +troops being obliged to take part in useless aggressive movements. The +lesson of the Tarutino battle and of the day before it, which +Kutuzov remembered with pain, must, he thought, have some effect on +others too. + +"They must understand that we can only lose by taking the offensive. +Patience and time are my warriors, my champions," thought Kutuzov. +He knew that an apple should not be plucked while it is green. It will +fall of itself when ripe, but if picked unripe the apple is spoiled, +the tree is harmed, and your teeth are set on edge. Like an +experienced sportsman he knew that the beast was wounded, and +wounded as only the whole strength of Russia could have wounded it, +but whether it was mortally wounded or not was still an undecided +question. Now by the fact of Lauriston and Barthelemi having been +sent, and by the reports of the guerrillas, Kutuzov was almost sure +that the wound was mortal. But he needed further proofs and it was +necessary to wait. + +"They want to run to see how they have wounded it. Wait and we shall +see! Continual maneuvers, continual advances!" thought he. "What +for? Only to distinguish themselves! As if fighting were fun. They are +like children from whom one can't get any sensible account of what has +happened because they all want to show how well they can fight. But +that's not what is needed now. + +"And what ingenious maneuvers they all propose to me! It seems to +them that when they have thought of two or three contingencies" (he +remembered the general plan sent him from Petersburg) "they have +foreseen everything. But the contingencies are endless." + +The undecided question as to whether the wound inflicted at Borodino +was mortal or not had hung over Kutuzov's head for a whole month. On +the one hand the French had occupied Moscow. On the other Kutuzov felt +assured with all his being that the terrible blow into which he and +all the Russians had put their whole strength must have been mortal. +But in any case proofs were needed; he had waited a whole month for +them and grew more impatient the longer he waited. Lying on his bed +during those sleepless nights he did just what he reproached those +younger generals for doing. He imagined all sorts of possible +contingencies, just like the younger men, but with this difference, +that he saw thousands of contingencies instead of two or three and +based nothing on them. The longer he thought the more contingencies +presented themselves. He imagined all sorts of movements of the +Napoleonic army as a whole or in sections- against Petersburg, or +against him, or to outflank him. He thought too of the possibility +(which he feared most of all) that Napoleon might fight him with his +own weapon and remain in Moscow awaiting him. Kutuzov even imagined +that Napoleon's army might turn back through Medyn and Yukhnov, but +the one thing he could not foresee was what happened- the insane, +convulsive stampede of Napoleon's army during its first eleven days +after leaving Moscow: a stampede which made possible what Kutuzov +had not yet even dared to think of- the complete extermination of +the French. Dorokhov's report about Broussier's division, the +guerrillas' reports of distress in Napoleon's army, rumors of +preparations for leaving Moscow, all confirmed the supposition that +the French army was beaten and preparing for flight. But these were +only suppositions, which seemed important to the younger men but not +to Kutuzov. With his sixty years' experience he knew what value to +attach to rumors, knew how apt people who desire anything are to group +all news so that it appears to confirm what they desire, and he knew +how readily in such cases they omit all that makes for the contrary. +And the more he desired it the less he allowed himself to believe +it. This question absorbed all his mental powers. All else was to +him only life's customary routine. To such customary routine +belonged his conversations with the staff, the letters he wrote from +Tarutino to Madame de Stael, the reading of novels, the distribution +of awards, his correspondence with Petersburg, and so on. But the +destruction of the French, which he alone foresaw, was his heart's one +desire. + +On the night of the eleventh of October he lay leaning on his arm +and thinking of that. + +There was a stir in the next room and he heard the steps of Toll, +Konovnitsyn, and Bolkhovitinov. + +"Eh, who's there? Come in, come in! What news?" the field marshal +called out to them. + +While a footman was lighting a candle, Toll communicated the +substance of the news. + +"Who brought it?" asked Kutuzov with a look which, when the candle +was lit, struck Toll by its cold severity. + +"There can be no doubt about it, your Highness." + +"Call him in, call him here." + +Kutuzov sat up with one leg hanging down from the bed and his big +paunch resting against the other which was doubled under him. He +screwed up his seeing eye to scrutinize the messenger more +carefully, as if wishing to read in his face what preoccupied his +own mind. + +"Tell me, tell me, friend," said he to Bolkhovitinov in his low, +aged voice, as he pulled together the shirt which gaped open on his +chest, "come nearer- nearer. What news have you brought me? Eh? That +Napoleon has left Moscow? Are you sure? Eh?" + +Bolkhovitinov gave a detailed account from the beginning of all he +had been told to report. + +"Speak quicker, quicker! Don't torture me!" Kutuzov interrupted him. + +Bolkhovitinov told him everything and was then silent, awaiting +instructions. Toll was beginning to say something but Kutuzov +checked him. He tried to say something, but his face suddenly puckered +and wrinkled; he waved his arm at Toll and turned to the opposite side +of the room, to the corner darkened by the icons that hung there. + +"O Lord, my Creator, Thou has heard our prayer..." said he in a +tremulous voice with folded hands. "Russia is saved. I thank Thee, O +Lord!" and he wept. + +CHAPTER XVIII + +From the time he received this news to the end of the campaign all +Kutuzov's activity was directed toward restraining his troops, by +authority, by guile, and by entreaty, from useless attacks, maneuvers, +or encounters with the perishing enemy. Dokhturov went to +Malo-Yaroslavets, but Kutuzov lingered with the main army and gave +orders for the evacuation of Kaluga- a retreat beyond which town +seemed to him quite possible. + +Everywhere Kutuzov retreated, but the enemy without waiting for +his retreat fled in the opposite direction. + +Napoleon's historians describe to us his skilled maneuvers at +Tarutino and Malo-Yaroslavets, and make conjectures as to what would +have happened had Napoleon been in time to penetrate into the rich +southern provinces. + +But not to speak of the fact that nothing prevented him from +advancing into those southern provinces (for the Russian army did +not bar his way), the historians forget that nothing could have +saved his army, for then already it bore within itself the germs of +inevitable ruin. How could that army- which had found abundant +supplies in Moscow and had trampled them underfoot instead of +keeping them, and on arriving at Smolensk had looted provisions +instead of storing them- how could that army recuperate in Kaluga +province, which was inhabited by Russians such as those who lived in +Moscow, and where fire had the same property of consuming what was set +ablaze? + +That army could not recover anywhere. Since the battle of Borodino +and the pillage of Moscow it had borne within itself, as it were, +the chemical elements of dissolution. + +The members of what had once been an army- Napoleon himself and +all his soldiers fled- without knowing whither, each concerned only to +make his escape as quickly as possible from this position, of the +hopelessness of which they were all more or less vaguely conscious. + +So it came about that at the council at Malo-Yaroslavets, when the +generals pretending to confer together expressed various opinions, all +mouths were closed by the opinion uttered by the simple-minded soldier +Mouton who, speaking last, said what they all felt: that the one thing +needful was to get away as quickly as possible; and no one, not even +Napoleon, could say anything against that truth which they all +recognized. + +But though they all realized that it was necessary to get away, +there still remained a feeling of shame at admitting that they must +flee. An external shock was needed to overcome that shame, and this +shock came in due time. It was what the French called "le hourra de +l'Empereur." + +The day after the council at Malo-Yaroslavets Napoleon rode out +early in the morning amid the lines of his army with his suite of +marshals and an escort, on the pretext of inspecting the army and +the scene of the previous and of the impending battle. Some Cossacks +on the prowl for booty fell in with the Emperor and very nearly +captured him. If the Cossacks did not capture Napoleon then, what +saved him was the very thing that was destroying the French army, +the booty on which the Cossacks fell. Here as at Tarutino they went +after plunder, leaving the men. Disregarding Napoleon they rushed +after the plunder and Napoleon managed to escape. + +When les enfants du Don might so easily have taken the Emperor +himself in the midst of his army, it was clear that there was +nothing for it but to fly as fast as possible along the nearest, +familiar road. Napoleon with his forty-year-old stomach understood +that hint, not feeling his former agility and boldness, and under +the influence of the fright the Cossacks had given him he at once +agreed with Mouton and issued orders- as the historians tell us- to +retreat by the Smolensk road. + +That Napoleon agreed with Mouton, and that the army retreated, +does not prove that Napoleon caused it to retreat, but that the forces +which influenced the whole army and directed it along the Mozhaysk +(that is, the Smolensk) road acted simultaneously on him also. + +CHAPTER XIX + +A man in motion always devises an aim for that motion. To be able to +go a thousand miles he must imagine that something good awaits him +at the end of those thousand miles. One must have the prospect of a +promised land to have the strength to move. + +The promised land for the French during their advance had been +Moscow, during their retreat it was their native land. But that native +land was too far off, and for a man going a thousand miles it is +absolutely necessary to set aside his final goal and to say to +himself: "Today I shall get to a place twenty-five miles off where I +shall rest and spend the night," and during the first day's journey +that resting place eclipses his ultimate goal and attracts all his +hopes and desires. And the impulses felt by a single person are always +magnified in a crowd. + +For the French retreating along the old Smolensk road, the final +goal- their native land- was too remote, and their immediate goal +was Smolensk, toward which all their desires and hopes, enormously +intensified in the mass, urged them on. It was not that they knew that +much food and fresh troops awaited them in Smolensk, nor that they +were told so (on the contrary their superior officers, and Napoleon +himself, knew that provisions were scarce there), but because this +alone could give them strength to move on and endure their present +privations. So both those who knew and those who did not know deceived +themselves, and pushed on to Smolensk as to a promised land. + +Coming out onto the highroad the French fled with surprising +energy and unheard-of rapidity toward the goal they had fixed on. +Besides the common impulse which bound the whole crowd of French +into one mass and supplied them with a certain energy, there was +another cause binding them together- their great numbers. As with +the physical law of gravity, their enormous mass drew the individual +human atoms to itself. In their hundreds of thousands they moved +like a whole nation. + +Each of them desired nothing more than to give himself up as a +prisoner to escape from all this horror and misery; but on the one +hand the force of this common attraction to Smolensk, their goal, drew +each of them in the same direction; on the other hand an army corps +could not surrender to a company, and though the French availed +themselves of every convenient opportunity to detach themselves and to +surrender on the slightest decent pretext, such pretexts did not +always occur. Their very numbers and their crowded and swift +movement deprived them of that possibility and rendered it not only +difficult but impossible for the Russians to stop this movement, to +which the French were directing all their energies. Beyond a certain +limit no mechanical disruption of the body could hasten the process of +decomposition. + +A lump of snow cannot be melted instantaneously. There is a +certain limit of time in less than which no amount of heat can melt +the snow. On the contrary the greater the heat the more solidified the +remaining snow becomes. + +Of the Russian commanders Kutuzov alone understood this. When the +flight of the French army along the Smolensk road became well defined, +what Konovnitsyn had foreseen on the night of the eleventh of +October began to occur. The superior officers all wanted to +distinguish themselves, to cut off, to seize, to capture, and to +overthrow the French, and all clamored for action. + +Kutuzov alone used all his power (and such power is very limited +in the case of any commander in chief) to prevent an attack. + +He could not tell them what we say now: "Why fight, why block the +road, losing our own men and inhumanly slaughtering unfortunate +wretches? What is the use of that, when a third of their army has +melted away on the road from Moscow to Vyazma without any battle?" But +drawing from his aged wisdom what they could understand, he told +them of the golden bridge, and they laughed at and slandered him, +flinging themselves on, rending and exulting over the dying beast. + +Ermolov, Miloradovich, Platov, and others in proximity to the French +near Vyazma could not resist their desire to cut off and break up +two French corps, and by way of reporting their intention to Kutuzov +they sent him a blank sheet of paper in an envelope. + +And try as Kutuzov might to restrain the troops, our men attacked, +trying to bar the road. Infantry regiments, we are told, advanced to +the attack with music and with drums beating, and killed and lost +thousands of men. + +But they did not cut off or overthrow anybody and the French army, +closing up more firmly at the danger, continued, while steadily +melting away, to pursue its fatal path to Smolensk. + +BOOK FOURTEEN: 1812 + +CHAPTER I + +The Battle of Borodino, with the occupation of Moscow that +followed it and the flight of the French without further conflicts, is +one of the most instructive phenomena in history. + +All historians agree that the external activity of states and +nations in their conflicts with one another is expressed in wars, +and that as a direct result of greater or less success in war the +political strength of states and nations increases or decreases. + +Strange as may be the historical account of how some king or +emperor, having quarreled with another, collects an army, fights his +enemy's army, gains a victory by killing three, five, or ten +thousand men, and subjugates a kingdom and an entire nation of several +millions, all the facts of history (as far as we know it) confirm +the truth of the statement that the greater or lesser success of one +army against another is the cause, or at least an essential +indication, of an increase or decrease in the strength of the +nation- even though it is unintelligible why the defeat of an army- +a hundredth part of a nation- should oblige that whole nation to +submit. An army gains a victory, and at once the rights of the +conquering nation have increased to the detriment of the defeated. +An army has suffered defeat, and at once a people loses its rights +in proportion to the severity of the reverse, and if its army +suffers a complete defeat the nation is quite subjugated. + +So according to history it has been found from the most ancient +times, and so it is to our own day. All Napoleon's wars serve to +confirm this rule. In proportion to the defeat of the Austrian army +Austria loses its rights, and the rights and the strength of France +increase. The victories of the French at Jena and Auerstadt destroy +the independent existence of Prussia. + +But then, in 1812, the French gain a victory near Moscow. Moscow +is taken and after that, with no further battles, it is not Russia +that ceases to exist, but the French army of six hundred thousand, and +then Napoleonic France itself. To strain the facts to fit the rules of +history: to say that the field of battle at Borodino remained in the +hands of the Russians, or that after Moscow there were other battles +that destroyed Napoleon's army, is impossible. + +After the French victory at Borodino there was no general engagement +nor any that were at all serious, yet the French army ceased to exist. +What does this mean? If it were an example taken from the history of +China, we might say that it was not an historic phenomenon (which is +the historians' usual expedient when anything does not fit their +standards); if the matter concerned some brief conflict in which +only a small number of troops took part, we might treat it as an +exception; but this event occurred before our fathers' eyes, and for +them it was a question of the life or death of their fatherland, and +it happened in the greatest of all known wars. + +The period of the campaign of 1812 from the battle of Borodino to +the expulsion of the French proved that the winning of a battle does +not produce a conquest and is not even an invariable indication of +conquest; it proved that the force which decides the fate of peoples +lies not in the conquerors, nor even in armies and battles, but in +something else. + +The French historians, describing the condition of the French army +before it left Moscow, affirm that all was in order in the Grand Army, +except the cavalry, the artillery, and the transport- there was no +forage for the horses or the cattle. That was a misfortune no one +could remedy, for the peasants of the district burned their hay rather +than let the French have it. + +The victory gained did not bring the usual results because the +peasants Karp and Vlas (who after the French had evacuated Moscow +drove in their carts to pillage the town, and in general personally +failed to manifest any heroic feelings), and the whole innumerable +multitude of such peasants, did not bring their hay to Moscow for +the high price offered them, but burned it instead. + +Let us imagine two men who have come out to fight a duel with +rapiers according to all the rules of the art of fencing. The +fencing has gone on for some time; suddenly one of the combatants, +feeling himself wounded and understanding that the matter is no joke +but concerns his life, throws down his rapier, and seizing the first +cudgel that comes to hand begins to brandish it. Then let us imagine +that the combatant who so sensibly employed the best and simplest +means to attain his end was at the same time influenced by +traditions of chivalry and, desiring to conceal the facts of the case, +insisted that he had gained his victory with the rapier according to +all the rules of art. One can imagine what confusion and obscurity +would result from such an account of the duel. + +The fencer who demanded a contest according to the rules of +fencing was the French army; his opponent who threw away the rapier +and snatched up the cudgel was the Russian people; those who try to +explain the matter according to the rules of fencing are the +historians who have described the event. + +After the burning of Smolensk a war began which did not follow any +previous traditions of war. The burning of towns and villages, the +retreats after battles, the blow dealt at Borodino and the renewed +retreat, the burning of Moscow, the capture of marauders, the +seizure of transports, and the guerrilla war were all departures +from the rules. + +Napoleon felt this, and from the time he took up the correct fencing +attitude in Moscow and instead of his opponent's rapier saw a cudgel +raised above his head, he did not cease to complain to Kutuzov and +to the Emperor Alexander that the war was being carried on contrary to +all the rules- as if there were any rules for killing people. In spite +of the complaints of the French as to the nonobservance of the +rules, in spite of the fact that to some highly placed Russians it +seemed rather disgraceful to fight with a cudgel and they wanted to +assume a pose en quarte or en tierce according to all the rules, and +to make an adroit thrust en prime, and so on- the cudgel of the +people's war was lifted with all its menacing and majestic strength, +and without consulting anyone's tastes or rules and regardless of +anything else, it rose and fell with stupid simplicity, but +consistently, and belabored the French till the whole invasion had +perished. + +And it is well for a people who do not- as the French did in 1813- +salute according to all the rules of art, and, presenting the hilt +of their rapier gracefully and politely, hand it to their +magnanimous conqueror, but at the moment of trial, without asking what +rules others have adopted in similar cases, simply and easily pick +up the first cudgel that comes to hand and strike with it till the +feeling of resentment and revenge in their soul yields to a feeling of +contempt and compassion. + +CHAPTER II + +One of the most obvious and advantageous departures from the +so-called laws of war is the action of scattered groups against men +pressed together in a mass. Such action always occurs in wars that +take on a national character. In such actions, instead of two crowds +opposing each other, the men disperse, attack singly, run away when +attacked by stronger forces, but again attack when opportunity offers. +This was done by the guerrillas in Spain, by the mountain tribes in +the Caucasus, and by the Russians in 1812. + +People have called this kind of war "guerrilla warfare" and assume +that by so calling it they have explained its meaning. But such a +war does not fit in under any rule and is directly opposed to a +well-known rule of tactics which is accepted as infallible. That +rule says that an attacker should concentrate his forces in order to +be stronger than his opponent at the moment of conflict. + +Guerrilla war (always successful, as history shows) directly +infringes that rule. + +This contradiction arises from the fact that military science +assumes the strength of an army to be identical with its numbers. +Military science says that the more troops the greater the strength. +Les gros bataillons ont toujours raison.~^ + +^~ Large battalions are always victorious. + +For military science to say this is like defining momentum in +mechanics by reference to the mass only: stating that momenta are +equal or unequal to each other simply because the masses involved +are equal or unequal. + +Momentum (quantity of motion) is the product of mass and velocity. + +In military affairs the strength of an army is the product of its +mass and some unknown x. + +Military science, seeing in history innumerable instances of the +fact that the size of any army does not coincide with its strength and +that small detachments defeat larger ones, obscurely admits the +existence of this unknown factor and tries to discover it- now in a +geometric formation, now in the equipment employed, now, and most +usually, in the genius of the commanders. But the assignment of +these various meanings to the factor does not yield results which +accord with the historic facts. + +Yet it is only necessary to abandon the false view (adopted to +gratify the "heroes") of the efficacy of the directions issued in +wartime by commanders, in order to find this unknown quantity. + +That unknown quantity is the spirit of the army, that is to say, the +greater or lesser readiness to fight and face danger felt by all the +men composing an army, quite independently of whether they are, or are +not, fighting under the command of a genius, in two- or three-line +formation, with cudgels or with rifles that repeat thirty times a +minute. Men who want to fight will always put themselves in the most +advantageous conditions for fighting. + +The spirit of an army is the factor which multiplied by the mass +gives the resulting force. To define and express the significance of +this unknown factor- the spirit of an army- is a problem for science. + +This problem is only solvable if we cease arbitrarily to +substitute for the unknown x itself the conditions under which that +force becomes apparent- such as the commands of the general, the +equipment employed, and so on- mistaking these for the real +significance of the factor, and if we recognize this unknown +quantity in its entirety as being the greater or lesser desire to +fight and to face danger. Only then, expressing known historic facts +by equations and comparing the relative significance of this factor, +can we hope to define the unknown. + +Ten men, battalions, or divisions, fighting fifteen men, battalions, +or divisions, conquer- that is, kill or take captive- all the +others, while themselves losing four, so that on the one side four and +on the other fifteen were lost. Consequently the four were equal to +the fifteen, and therefore 4x = 15y. Consequently x/y = 15/4. This +equation does not give us the value of the unknown factor but gives us +a ratio between two unknowns. And by bringing variously selected +historic units (battles, campaigns, periods of war) into such +equations, a series of numbers could be obtained in which certain laws +should exist and might be discovered. + +The tactical rule that an army should act in masses when +attacking, and in smaller groups in retreat, unconsciously confirms +the truth that the strength of an army depends on its spirit. To +lead men forward under fire more discipline (obtainable only by +movement in masses) is needed than is needed to resist attacks. But +this rule which leaves out of account the spirit of the army +continually proves incorrect and is in particularly striking +contrast to the facts when some strong rise or fall in the spirit of +the troops occurs, as in all national wars. + +The French, retreating in 1812- though according to tactics they +should have separated into detachments to defend themselves- +congregated into a mass because the spirit of the army had so fallen +that only the mass held the army together. The Russians, on the +contrary, ought according to tactics to have attacked in mass, but +in fact they split up into small units, because their spirit had so +risen that separate individuals, without orders, dealt blows at the +French without needing any compulsion to induce them to expose +themselves to hardships and dangers. + +CHAPTER III + +The so-called partisan war began with the entry of the French into +Smolensk. + +Before partisan warfare had been officially recognized by the +government, thousands of enemy stragglers, marauders, and foragers had +been destroyed by the Cossacks and the peasants, who killed them off +as instinctively as dogs worry a stray mad dog to death. Denis +Davydov, with his Russian instinct, was the first to recognize the +value of this terrible cudgel which regardless of the rules of +military science destroyed the French, and to him belongs the credit +for taking the first step toward regularizing this method of warfare. + +On August 24 Davydov's first partisan detachment was formed and then +others were recognized. The further the campaign progressed the more +numerous these detachments became. + +The irregulars destroyed the great army piecemeal. They gathered the +fallen leaves that dropped of themselves from that withered tree- +the French army- and sometimes shook that tree itself. By October, +when the French were fleeing toward Smolensk, there were hundreds of +such companies, of various sizes and characters. There were some +that adopted all the army methods and had infantry, artillery, staffs, +and the comforts of life. Others consisted solely of Cossack +cavalry. There were also small scratch groups of foot and horse, and +groups of peasants and landowners that remained unknown. A sacristan +commanded one party which captured several hundred prisoners in the +course of a month; and there was Vasilisa, the wife of a village +elder, who slew hundreds of the French. + +The partisan warfare flamed up most fiercely in the latter days of +October. Its first period had passed: when the partisans themselves, +amazed at their own boldness, feared every minute to be surrounded and +captured by the French, and hid in the forests without unsaddling, +hardly daring to dismount and always expecting to be pursued. By the +end of October this kind of warfare had taken definite shape: it had +become clear to all what could be ventured against the French and what +could not. Now only the commanders of detachments with staffs, and +moving according to rules at a distance from the French, still +regarded many things as impossible. The small bands that had started +their activities long before and had already observed the French +closely considered things possible which the commanders of the big +detachments did not dare to contemplate. The Cossacks and peasants who +crept in among the French now considered everything possible. + +On October 22, Denisov (who was one of the irregulars) was with +his group at the height of the guerrilla enthusiasm. Since early +morning he and his party had been on the move. All day long he had +been watching from the forest that skirted the highroad a large French +convoy of cavalry baggage and Russian prisoners separated from the +rest of the army, which- as was learned from spies and prisoners- +was moving under a strong escort to Smolensk. Besides Denisov and +Dolokhov (who also led a small party and moved in Denisov's vicinity), +the commanders of some large divisions with staffs also knew of this +convoy and, as Denisov expressed it, were sharpening their teeth for +it. Two of the commanders of large parties- one a Pole and the other a +German- sent invitations to Denisov almost simultaneously, +requesting him to join up with their divisions to attack the convoy. + +"No, bwother, I have gwown mustaches myself," said Denisov on +reading these documents, and he wrote to the German that, despite +his heartfelt desire to serve under so valiant and renowned a general, +he had to forgo that pleasure because he was already under the command +of the Polish general. To the Polish general he replied to the same +effect, informing him that he was already under the command of the +German. + +Having arranged matters thus, Denisov and Dolokhov intended, without +reporting matters to the higher command, to attack and seize that +convoy with their own small forces. On October 22 it was moving from +the village of Mikulino to that of Shamshevo. To the left of the +road between Mikulino and Shamshevo there were large forests, +extending in some places up to the road itself though in others a mile +or more back from it. Through these forests Denisov and his party rode +all day, sometimes keeping well back in them and sometimes coming to +the very edge, but never losing sight of the moving French. That +morning, Cossacks of Denisov's party had seized and carried off into +the forest two wagons loaded with cavalry saddles, which had stuck +in the mud not far from Mikulino where the forest ran close to the +road. Since then, and until evening, the party had the movements of +the French without attacking. It was necessary to let the French reach +Shamshevo quietly without alarming them and then, after joining +Dolokhov who was to come that evening to a consultation at a +watchman's hut in the forest less than a mile from Shamshevo, to +surprise the French at dawn, falling like an avalanche on their +heads from two sides, and rout and capture them all at one blow. + +In their rear, more than a mile from Mikulino where the forest +came right up to the road, six Cossacks were posted to report if any +fresh columns of French should show themselves. + +Beyond Shamshevo, Dolokhov was to observe the road in the same +way, to find out at what distance there were other French troops. They +reckoned that the convoy had fifteen hundred men. Denisov had two +hundred, and Dolokhov might have as many more, but the disparity of +numbers did not deter Denisov. All that he now wanted to know was what +troops these were and to learn that he had to capture a "tongue"- that +is, a man from the enemy column. That morning's attack on the wagons +had been made so hastily that the Frenchmen with the wagons had all +been killed; only a little drummer boy had been taken alive, and as he +was a straggler he could tell them nothing definite about the troops +in that column. + +Denisov considered it dangerous to make a second attack for fear +of putting the whole column on the alert, so he sent Tikhon +Shcherbaty, a peasant of his party, to Shamshevo to try and seize at +least one of the French quartermasters who had been sent on in +advance. + +CHAPTER IV + +It was a warm rainy autumn day. The sky and the horizon were both +the color of muddy water. At times a sort of mist descended, and +then suddenly heavy slanting rain came down. + +Denisov in a felt cloak and a sheepskin cap from which the rain +ran down was riding a thin thoroughbred horse with sunken sides. +Like his horse, which turned its head and laid its ears back, he +shrank from the driving rain and gazed anxiously before him. His +thin face with its short, thick black beard looked angry. + +Beside Denisov rode an esaul,~^ Denisov's fellow worker, also in felt +cloak and sheepskin cap, and riding a large sleek Don horse. + +^~ A captain of Cossacks. + +Esaul Lovayski the Third was a tall man as straight as an arrow, +pale-faced, fair-haired, with narrow light eyes and with calm +self-satisfaction in his face and bearing. Though it was impossible to +say in what the peculiarity of the horse and rider lay, yet at first +glance at the esaul and Denisov one saw that the latter was wet and +uncomfortable and was a man mounted on a horse, while looking at the +esaul one saw that he was as comfortable and as much at ease as always +and that he was not a man who had mounted a horse, but a man who was +one with his horse, a being consequently possessed of twofold +strength. + +A little ahead of them walked a peasant guide, wet to the skin and +wearing a gray peasant coat and a white knitted cap. + +A little behind, on a poor, small, lean Kirghiz mount with an +enormous tail and mane and a bleeding mouth, rode a young officer in a +blue French overcoat. + +Beside him rode an hussar, with a boy in a tattered French uniform +and blue cap behind him on the crupper of his horse. The boy held on +to the hussar with cold, red hands, and raising his eyebrows gazed +about him with surprise. This was the French drummer boy captured that +morning. + +Behind them along the narrow, sodden, cutup forest road came hussars +in threes and fours, and then Cossacks: some in felt cloaks, some in +French greatcoats, and some with horsecloths over their heads. The +horses, being drenched by the rain, all looked black whether +chestnut or bay. Their necks, with their wet, close-clinging manes, +looked strangely thin. Steam rose from them. Clothes, saddles, +reins, were all wet, slippery, and sodden, like the ground and the +fallen leaves that strewed the road. The men sat huddled up trying not +to stir, so as to warm the water that had trickled to their bodies and +not admit the fresh cold water that was leaking in under their +seats, their knees, and at the back of their necks. In the midst of +the outspread line of Cossacks two wagons, drawn by French horses +and by saddled Cossack horses that had been hitched on in front, +rumbled over the tree stumps and branches and splashed through the +water that lay in the ruts. + +Denisov's horse swerved aside to avoid a pool in the track and +bumped his rider's knee against a tree. + +"Oh, the devil!" exclaimed Denisov angrily, and showing his teeth he +struck his horse three times with his whip, splashing himself and +his comrades with mud. + +Denisov was out of sorts both because of the rain and also from +hunger (none of them had eaten anything since morning), and yet more +because he still had no news from Dolokhov and the man sent to capture +a "tongue" had not returned. + +"There'll hardly be another such chance to fall on a transport as +today. It's too risky to attack them by oneself, and if we put it +off till another day one of the big guerrilla detachments will +snatch the prey from under our noses," thought Denisov, continually +peering forward, hoping to see a messenger from Dolokhov. + +On coming to a path in the forest along which he could see far to +the right, Denisov stopped. + +"There's someone coming," said he. + +The esaul looked in the direction Denisov indicated. + +"There are two, an officer and a Cossack. But it is not +presupposable that it is the lieutenant colonel himself," said the +esaul, who was fond of using words the Cossacks did not know. + +The approaching riders having descended a decline were no longer +visible, but they reappeared a few minutes later. In front, at a weary +gallop and using his leather whip, rode an officer, disheveled and +drenched, whose trousers had worked up to above his knees. Behind him, +standing in the stirrups, trotted a Cossack. The officer, a very young +lad with a broad rosy face and keen merry eyes, galloped up to Denisov +and handed him a sodden envelope. + +"From the general," said the officer. "Please excuse its not being +quite dry." + +Denisov, frowning, took the envelope and opened it. + +"There, they kept telling us: 'It's dangerous, it's dangerous,'" +said the officer, addressing the esaul while Denisov was reading the +dispatch. "But Komarov and I"- he pointed to the Cossack- "were +prepared. We have each of us two pistols.... But what's this?" he +asked, noticing the French drummer boy. "A prisoner? You've already +been in action? May I speak to him?" + +"Wostov! Petya!" exclaimed Denisov, having run through the dispatch. +"Why didn't you say who you were?" and turning with a smile he held +out his hand to the lad. + +The officer was Petya Rostov. + +All the way Petya had been preparing himself to behave with +Denisov as befitted a grownup man and an officer- without hinting at +their previous acquaintance. But as soon as Denisov smiled at him +Petya brightened up, blushed with pleasure, forgot the official manner +he had been rehearsing, and began telling him how he had already +been in a battle near Vyazma and how a certain hussar had +distinguished himself there. + +"Well, I am glad to see you," Denisov interrupted him, and his +face again assumed its anxious expression. + +"Michael Feoklitych," said he to the esaul, "this is again fwom that +German, you know. He"- he indicated Petya- "is serving under him." + +And Denisov told the esaul that the dispatch just delivered was a +repetition of the German general's demand that he should join forces +with him for an attack on the transport. + +"If we don't take it tomowwow, he'll snatch it fwom under our +noses," he added. + +While Denisov was talking to the esaul, Petya- abashed by +Denisov's cold tone and supposing that it was due to the condition +of his trousers- furtively tried to pull them down under his greatcoat +so that no one should notice it, while maintaining as martial an air +as possible. + +"Will there be any orders, your honor?" he asked Denisov, holding +his hand at the salute and resuming the game of adjutant and general +for which he had prepared himself, "or shall I remain with your +honor?" + +"Orders?" Denisov repeated thoughtfully. "But can you stay till +tomowwow?" + +"Oh, please... May I stay with you?" cried Petya. + +"But, just what did the genewal tell you? To weturn at once?" +asked Denisov. + +Petya blushed. + +"He gave me no instructions. I think I could?" he returned, +inquiringly. + +"Well, all wight," said Denisov. + +And turning to his men he directed a party to go on to the halting +place arranged near the watchman's hut in the forest, and told the +officer on the Kirghiz horse (who performed the duties of an adjutant) +to go and find out where Dolokhov was and whether he would come that +evening. Denisov himself intended going with the esaul and Petya to +the edge of the forest where it reached out to Shamshevo, to have a +look at the part of the French bivouac they were to attack next day. + +"Well, old fellow," said he to the peasant guide, "lead us to +Shamshevo." + +Denisov, Petya, and the esaul, accompanied by some Cossacks and +the hussar who had the prisoner, rode to the left across a ravine to +the edge of the forest. + +CHAPTER V + +The rain had stopped, and only the mist was falling and drops from +the trees. Denisov, the esaul, and Petya rode silently, following +the peasant in the knitted cap who, stepping lightly with outturned +toes and moving noiselessly in his bast shoes over the roots and wet +leaves, silently led them to the edge of the forest. + +He ascended an incline, stopped, looked about him, and advanced to +where the screen of trees was less dense. On reaching a large oak tree +that had not yet shed its leaves, he stopped and beckoned mysteriously +to them with his hand. + +Denisov and Petya rode up to him. From the spot where the peasant +was standing they could see the French. Immediately beyond the forest, +on a downward slope, lay a field of spring rye. To the right, beyond a +steep ravine, was a small village and a landowner's house with a +broken roof. In the village, in the house, in the garden, by the well, +by the pond, over all the rising ground, and all along the road uphill +from the bridge leading to the village, not more than five hundred +yards away, crowds of men could be seen through the shimmering mist. +Their un-Russian shouting at their horses which were straining +uphill with the carts, and their calls to one another, could be +clearly heard. + +"Bwing the prisoner here," said Denisov in a low voice, not taking +his eyes off the French. + +A Cossack dismounted, lifted the boy down, and took him to +Denisov. Pointing to the French troops, Denisov asked him what these +and those of them were. The boy, thrusting his cold hands into his +pockets and lifting his eyebrows, looked at Denisov in affright, but +in spite of an evident desire to say all he knew gave confused +answers, merely assenting to everything Denisov asked him. Denisov +turned away from him frowning and addressed the esaul, conveying his +own conjectures to him. + +Petya, rapidly turning his head, looked now at the drummer boy, +now at Denisov, now at the esaul, and now at the French in the village +and along the road, trying not to miss anything of importance. + +"Whether Dolokhov comes or not, we must seize it, eh?" said +Denisov with a merry sparkle in his eyes. + +"It is a very suitable spot," said the esaul. + +"We'll send the infantwy down by the swamps," Denisov continued. +"They'll cweep up to the garden; you'll wide up fwom there with the +Cossacks"- he pointed to a spot in the forest beyond the village- "and +I with my hussars fwom here. And at the signal shot..." + +"The hollow is impassable- there's a swamp there," said the esaul. +"The horses would sink. We must ride round more to the left...." + +While they were talking in undertones the crack of a shot sounded +from the low ground by the pond, a puff of white smoke appeared, +then another, and the sound of hundreds of seemingly merry French +voices shouting together came up from the slope. For a moment +Denisov and the esaul drew back. They were so near that they thought +they were the cause of the firing and shouting. But the firing and +shouting did not relate to them. Down below, a man wearing something +red was running through the marsh. The French were evidently firing +and shouting at him. + +"Why, that's our Tikhon," said the esaul. + +"So it is! It is!" + +"The wascal!" said Denisov. + +"He'll get away!" said the esaul, screwing up his eyes. + +The man whom they called Tikhon, having run to the stream, plunged +in so that the water splashed in the air, and, having disappeared +for an instant, scrambled out on all fours, all black with the wet, +and ran on. The French who had been pursuing him stopped. + +"Smart, that!" said the esaul. + +"What a beast!" said Denisov with his former look of vexation. "What +has he been doing all this time?" + +"Who is he?" asked Petya. + +"He's our plastun. I sent him to capture a 'tongue.'" + +"Oh, yes," said Petya, nodding at the first words Denisov uttered as +if he understood it all, though he really did not understand +anything of it. + +Tikhon Shcherbaty was one of the most indispensable men in their +band. He was a peasant from Pokrovsk, near the river Gzhat. When +Denisov had come to Pokrovsk at the beginning of his operations and +had as usual summoned the village elder and asked him what he knew +about the French, the elder, as though shielding himself, had replied, +as all village elders did, that he had neither seen nor heard anything +of them. But when Denisov explained that his purpose was to kill the +French, and asked if no French had strayed that way, the elder replied +that some "more-orderers" had really been at their village, but that +Tikhon Shcherbaty was the only man who dealt with such matters. +Denisov had Tikhon called and, having praised him for his activity, +said a few words in the elder's presence about loyalty to the Tsar and +the country and the hatred of the French that all sons of the +fatherland should cherish. + +"We don't do the French any harm," said Tikhon, evidently frightened +by Denisov's words. "We only fooled about with the lads for fun, you +know! We killed a score or so of 'more-orderers,' but we did no harm +else..." + +Next day when Denisov had left Pokrovsk, having quite forgotten +about this peasant, it was reported to him that Tikhon had attached +himself to their party and asked to be allowed to remain with it. +Denisov gave orders to let him do so. + +Tikhon, who at first did rough work, laying campfires, fetching +water, flaying dead horses, and so on, soon showed a great liking +and aptitude for partisan warfare. At night he would go out for +booty and always brought back French clothing and weapons, and when +told to would bring in French captives also. Denisov then relieved him +from drudgery and began taking him with him when he went out on +expeditions and had him enrolled among the Cossacks. + +Tikhon did not like riding, and always went on foot, never lagging +behind the cavalry. He was armed with a musketoon (which he carried +rather as a joke), a pike and an ax, which latter he used as a wolf +uses its teeth, with equal case picking fleas out of its fur or +crunching thick bones. Tikhon with equal accuracy would split logs +with blows at arm's length, or holding the head of the ax would cut +thin little pegs or carve spoons. In Denisov's party he held a +peculiar and exceptional position. When anything particularly +difficult or nasty had to be done- to push a cart out of the mud +with one's shoulders, pull a horse out of a swamp by its tail, skin +it, slink in among the French, or walk more than thirty miles in a +day- everybody pointed laughingly at Tikhon. + +"It won't hurt that devil- he's as strong as a horse!" they said +of him. + +Once a Frenchman Tikhon was trying to capture fired a pistol at +him and shot him in the fleshy part of the back. That wound (which +Tikhon treated only with internal and external applications of +vodka) was the subject of the liveliest jokes by the whole detachment- +jokes in which Tikhon readily joined. + +"Hallo, mate! Never again? Gave you a twist?" the Cossacks would +banter him. And Tikhon, purposely writhing and making faces, pretended +to be angry and swore at the French with the funniest curses. The only +effect of this incident on Tikhon was that after being wounded he +seldom brought in prisoners. + +He was the bravest and most useful man in the party. No one found +more opportunities for attacking, no one captured or killed more +Frenchmen, and consequently he was made the buffoon of all the +Cossacks and hussars and willingly accepted that role. Now he had been +sent by Denisov overnight to Shamshevo to capture a "tongue." But +whether because he had not been content to take only one Frenchman +or because he had slept through the night, he had crept by day into +some bushes right among the French and, as Denisov had witnessed +from above, had been detected by them. + +CHAPTER VI + +After talking for some time with the esaul about next day's +attack, which now, seeing how near they were to the French, he +seemed to have definitely decided on, Denisov turned his horse and +rode back. + +"Now, my lad, we'll go and get dwy," he said to Petya. + +As they approached the watchhouse Denisov stopped, peering into +the forest. Among the trees a man with long legs and long, swinging +arms, wearing a short jacket, bast shoes, and a Kazan hat, was +approaching with long, light steps. He had a musketoon over his +shoulder and an ax stuck in his girdle. When he espied Denisov he +hastily threw something into the bushes, removed his sodden hat by its +floppy brim, and approached his commander. It was Tikhon. His wrinkled +and pockmarked face and narrow little eyes beamed with +self-satisfied merriment. He lifted his head high and gazed at Denisov +as if repressing a laugh. + +"Well, where did you disappear to?" inquired Denisov. + +"Where did I disappear to? I went to get Frenchmen," answered Tikhon +boldly and hurriedly, in a husky but melodious bass voice. + +"Why did you push yourself in there by daylight? You ass! Well, +why haven't you taken one?" + +"Oh, I took one all right," said Tikhon. + +"Where is he?" + +"You see, I took him first thing at dawn," Tikhon continued, +spreading out his flat feet with outturned toes in their bast shoes. +"I took him into the forest. Then I see he's no good and think I'll go +and fetch a likelier one." + +"You see?... What a wogue- it's just as I thought," said Denisov +to the esaul. "Why didn't you bwing that one?" + +"What was the good of bringing him?" Tikhon interrupted hastily +and angrily- "that one wouldn't have done for you. As if I don't +know what sort you want!" + +"What a bwute you are!... Well?" + +"I went for another one," Tikhon continued, "and I crept like this +through the wood and lay down." (He suddenly lay down on his stomach +with a supple movement to show how he had done it.) "One turned up and +I grabbed him, like this." (He jumped up quickly and lightly.) +"'Come along to the colonel,' I said. He starts yelling, and +suddenly there were four of them. They rushed at me with their +little swords. So I went for them with my ax, this way: 'What are +you up to?' says I. 'Christ be with you!'" shouted Tikhon, waving +his arms with an angry scowl and throwing out his chest. + +"Yes, we saw from the hill how you took to your heels through the +puddles!" said the esaul, screwing up his glittering eyes. + +Petya badly wanted to laugh, but noticed that they all refrained +from laughing. He turned his eyes rapidly from Tikhon's face to the +esaul's and Denisov's, unable to make out what it all meant. + +"Don't play the fool!" said Denisov, coughing angrily. "Why didn't +you bwing the first one?" + +Tikhon scratched his back with one hand and his head with the other, +then suddenly his whole face expanded into a beaming, foolish grin, +disclosing a gap where he had lost a tooth (that was why he was called +Shcherbaty- the gap-toothed). Denisov smiled, and Petya burst into a +peal of merry laughter in which Tikhon himself joined. + +"Oh, but he was a regular good-for-nothing," said Tikhon. "The +clothes on him- poor stuff! How could I bring him? And so rude, your +honor! Why, he says: 'I'm a general's son myself, I won't go!' he +says." + +"You are a bwute!" said Denisov. "I wanted to question..." + +"But I questioned him," said Tikhon. "He said he didn't know much. +'There are a lot of us,' he says, 'but all poor stuff- only soldiers +in name,' he says. 'Shout loud at them,' he says, 'and you'll take +them all,'" Tikhon concluded, looking cheerfully and resolutely into +Denisov's eyes. + +"I'll give you a hundwed sharp lashes- that'll teach you to play the +fool!" said Denisov severely. + +"But why are you angry?" remonstrated Tikhon, "just as if I'd +never seen your Frenchmen! Only wait till it gets dark and I'll +fetch you any of them you want- three if you like." + +"Well, let's go," said Denisov, and rode all the way to the +watchhouse in silence and frowning angrily. + +Tikhon followed behind and Petya heard the Cossacks laughing with +him and at him, about some pair of boots he had thrown into the +bushes. + +When the fit of laughter that had seized him at Tikhon's words and +smile had passed and Petya realized for a moment that this Tikhon +had killed a man, he felt uneasy. He looked round at the captive +drummer boy and felt a pang in his heart. But this uneasiness lasted +only a moment. He felt it necessary to hold his head higher, to +brace himself, and to question the esaul with an air of importance +about tomorrow's undertaking, that he might not be unworthy of the +company in which he found himself. + +The officer who had been sent to inquire met Denisov on the way with +the news that Dolokhov was soon coming and that all was well with him. + +Denisov at once cheered up and, calling Petya to him, said: "Well, +tell me about yourself." + +CHAPTER VII + +Petya, having left his people after their departure from Moscow, +joined his regiment and was soon taken as orderly by a general +commanding a large guerrilla detachment. From the time he received his +commission, and especially since he had joined the active army and +taken part in the battle of Vyazma, Petya had been in a constant state +of blissful excitement at being grown-up and in a perpetual ecstatic +hurry not to miss any chance to do something really heroic. He was +highly delighted with what he saw and experienced in the army, but +at the same time it always seemed to him that the really heroic +exploits were being performed just where he did not happen to be. +And he was always in a hurry to get where he was not. + +When on the twenty-first of October his general expressed a wish +to send somebody to Denisov's detachment, Petya begged so piteously to +be sent that the general could not refuse. But when dispatching him he +recalled Petya's mad action at the battle of Vyazma, where instead +of riding by the road to the place to which he had been sent, he had +galloped to the advanced line under the fire of the French and had +there twice fired his pistol. So now the general explicitly forbade +his taking part in any action whatever of Denisov's. That was why +Petya had blushed and grown confused when Denisov asked him whether he +could stay. Before they had ridden to the outskirts of the forest +Petya had considered he must carry out his instructions strictly and +return at once. But when he saw the French and saw Tikhon and +learned that there would certainly be an attack that night, he +decided, with the rapidity with which young people change their views, +that the general, whom he had greatly respected till then, was a +rubbishy German, that Denisov was a hero, the esaul a hero, and Tikhon +a hero too, and that it would be shameful for him to leave them at a +moment of difficulty. + +It was already growing dusk when Denisov, Petya, and the esaul +rode up to the watchhouse. In the twilight saddled horses could be +seen, and Cossacks and hussars who had rigged up rough shelters in the +glade and were kindling glowing fires in a hollow of the forest +where the French could not see the smoke. In the passage of the +small watchhouse a Cossack with sleeves rolled up was chopping some +mutton. In the room three officers of Denisov's band were converting a +door into a tabletop. Petya took off his wet clothes, gave them to +be dried, and at once began helping the officers to fix up the +dinner table. + +In ten minutes the table was ready and a napkin spread on it. On the +table were vodka, a flask of rum, white bread, roast mutton, and salt. + +Sitting at table with the officers and tearing the fat savory mutton +with his hands, down which the grease trickled, Petya was in an +ecstatic childish state of love for all men, and consequently of +confidence that others loved him in the same way. + +"So then what do you think, Vasili Dmitrich?" said he to Denisov. +"It's all right my staying a day with you?" And not waiting for a +reply he answered his own question: "You see I was told to find out- +well, I am finding out.... Only do let me into the very... into the +chief... I don't want a reward... But I want..." + +Petya clenched his teeth and looked around, throwing back his head +and flourishing his arms. + +"Into the vewy chief..." Denisov repeated with a smile. + +"Only, please let me command something, so that I may really +command..." Petya went on. "What would it be to you?... Oh, you want a +knife?" he said, turning to an officer who wished to cut himself a +piece of mutton. + +And he handed him his clasp knife. The officer admired it. + +"Please keep it. I have several like it," said Petya, blushing. +"Heavens! I was quite forgetting!" he suddenly cried. "I have some +raisins, fine ones; you know, seedless ones. We have a new sutler +and he has such capital things. I bought ten pounds. I am used to +something sweet. Would you like some?..." and Petya ran out into the +passage to his Cossack and brought back some bags which contained +about five pounds of raisins. "Have some, gentlemen, have some!" + +"You want a coffeepot, don't you?" he asked the esaul. "I bought a +capital one from our sutler! He has splendid things. And he's very +honest, that's the chief thing. I'll be sure to send it to you. Or +perhaps your flints are giving out, or are worn out- that happens +sometimes, you know. I have brought some with me, here they are"- +and he showed a bag- "a hundred flints. I bought them very cheap. +Please take as many as you want, or all if you like...." + +Then suddenly, dismayed lest he had said too much, Petya stopped and +blushed. + +He tried to remember whether he had not done anything else that +was foolish. And running over the events of the day he remembered +the French drummer boy. "It's capital for us here, but what of him? +Where have they put him? Have they fed him? Haven't they hurt his +feelings?" he thought. But having caught himself saying too much about +the flints, he was now afraid to speak out. + +"I might ask," he thought, "but they'll say: 'He's a boy himself and +so he pities the boy.' I'll show them tomorrow whether I'm a boy. Will +it seem odd if I ask?" Petya thought. "Well, never mind!" and +immediately, blushing and looking anxiously at the officers to see +if they appeared ironical, he said: + +"May I call in that boy who was taken prisoner and give him +something to eat?... Perhaps..." + +"Yes, he's a poor little fellow," said Denisov, who evidently saw +nothing shameful in this reminder. "Call him in. His name is Vincent +Bosse. Have him fetched." + +"I'll call him," said Petya. + +"Yes, yes, call him. A poor little fellow," Denisov repeated. + +Petya was standing at the door when Denisov said this. He slipped in +between the officers, came close to Denisov, and said: + +"Let me kiss you, dear old fellow! Oh, how fine, how splendid!" + +And having kissed Denisov he ran out of the hut. + +"Bosse! Vincent!" Petya cried, stopping outside the door. + +"Who do you want, sir?" asked a voice in the darkness. + +Petya replied that he wanted the French lad who had been captured +that day. + +"Ah, Vesenny?" said a Cossack. + +Vincent, the boy's name, had already been changed by the Cossacks +into Vesenny (vernal) and into Vesenya by the peasants and soldiers. +In both these adaptations the reference to spring (vesna) matched +the impression made by the young lad. + +"He is warming himself there by the bonfire. Ho, Vesenya! +Vesenya!- Vesenny!" laughing voices were heard calling to one +another in the darkness. + +"He's a smart lad," said an hussar standing near Petya. "We gave him +something to eat a while ago. He was awfully hungry!" + +The sound of bare feet splashing through the mud was heard in the +darkness, and the drummer boy came to the door. + +"Ah, c'est vous!" said Petya. "Voulez-vous manger? N'ayez pas +peur, on ne vous fera pas de mal,"~^ he added shyly and affectionately, +touching the boy's hand. "Entrez, entrez."~^ + +^~ "Ah, it's you! Do you want something to eat? Don't be afraid, +they won't hurt you." + +^~ "Come in, come in." + +"Merci, monsieur,"~^ said the drummer boy in a trembling almost +childish voice, and he began scraping his dirty feet on the threshold. + +^~ "Thank you, sir." + +There were many things Petya wanted to say to the drummer boy, but +did not dare to. He stood irresolutely beside him in the passage. Then +in the darkness he took the boy's hand and pressed it. + +"Come in, come in!" he repeated in a gentle whisper. "Oh, what can I +do for him?" he thought, and opening the door he let the boy pass in +first. + +When the boy had entered the hut, Petya sat down at a distance +from him, considering it beneath his dignity to pay attention to +him. But he fingered the money in his pocket and wondered whether it +would seem ridiculous to give some to the drummer boy. + +CHAPTER VIII + +The arrival of Dolokhov diverted Petya's attention from the +drummer boy, to whom Denisov had had some mutton and vodka given, +and whom he had had dressed in a Russian coat so that he might be kept +with their band and not sent away with the other prisoners. Petya +had heard in the army many stories of Dolokhov's extraordinary bravery +and of his cruelty to the French, so from the moment he entered the +hut Petya did not take his eyes from him, but braced himself up more +and more and held his head high, that he might not be unworthy even of +such company. + +Dolokhov's appearance amazed Petya by its simplicity. + +Denisov wore a Cossack coat, had a beard, had an icon of Nicholas +the Wonder-Worker on his breast, and his way of speaking and +everything he did indicated his unusual position. But Dolokhov, who in +Moscow had worn a Persian costume, had now the appearance of a most +correct officer of the Guards. He was clean-shaven and wore a +Guardsman's padded coat with an Order of St. George at his +buttonhole and a plain forage cap set straight on his head. He took +off his wet felt cloak in a corner of the room, and without greeting +anyone went up to Denisov and began questioning him about the matter +in hand. Denisov told him of the designs the large detachments had +on the transport, of the message Petya had brought, and his own +replies to both generals. Then he told him all he knew of the French +detachment. + +"That's so. But we must know what troops they are and their +numbers," said Dolokhov. "It will be necessary to go there. We can't +start the affair without knowing for certain how many there are. I +like to work accurately. Here now- wouldn't one of these gentlemen +like to ride over to the French camp with me? I have brought a spare +uniform." + +"I, I... I'll go with you!" cried Petya. + +"There's no need for you to go at all," said Denisov, addressing +Dolokhov, "and as for him, I won't let him go on any account." + +"I like that!" exclaimed Petya. "Why shouldn't I go?" + +"Because it's useless." + +"Well, you must excuse me, because... because... I shall go, and +that's all. You'll take me, won't you?" he said, turning to Dolokhov. + +"Why not?" Dolokhov answered absently, scrutinizing the face of +the French drummer boy. "Have you had that youngster with you long?" +he asked Denisov. + +"He was taken today but he knows nothing. I'm keeping him with me." + +"Yes, and where do you put the others?" inquired Dolokhov. + +"Where? I send them away and take a weceipt for them," shouted +Denisov, suddenly flushing. "And I say boldly that I have not a single +man's life on my conscience. Would it be difficult for you to send +thirty or thwee hundwed men to town under escort, instead of staining- +I speak bluntly- staining the honor of a soldier?" + +"That kind of amiable talk would be suitable from this young count +of sixteen," said Dolokhov with cold irony, "but it's time for you +to drop it." + +"Why, I've not said anything! I only say that I'll certainly go with +you," said Petya shyly. + +"But for you and me, old fellow, it's time to drop these amenities," +continued Dolokhov, as if he found particular pleasure in speaking +of this subject which irritated Denisov. "Now, why have you kept +this lad?" he went on, swaying his head. "Because you are sorry for +him! Don't we know those 'receipts' of yours? You send a hundred men +away, and thirty get there. The rest either starve or get killed. So +isn't it all the same not to send them?" + +The esaul, screwing up his light-colored eyes, nodded approvingly. + +"That's not the point. I'm not going to discuss the matter. I do not +wish to take it on my conscience. You say they'll die. All wight. Only +not by my fault!" + +Dolokhov began laughing. + +"Who has told them not to capture me these twenty times over? But if +they did catch me they'd string me up to an aspen tree, and with all +your chivalry just the same." He paused. "However, we must get to +work. Tell the Cossack to fetch my kit. I have two French uniforms +in it. Well, are you coming with me?" he asked Petya. + +"I? Yes, yes, certainly!" cried Petya, blushing almost to tears +and glancing at Denisov. + +While Dolokhov had been disputing with Denisov what should be done +with prisoners, Petya had once more felt awkward and restless; but +again he had no time to grasp fully what they were talking about. +"If grown-up, distinguished men think so, it must be necessary and +right," thought he. "But above all Denisov must not dare to imagine +that I'll obey him and that he can order me about. I will certainly go +to the French camp with Dolokhov. If he can, so can I!" + +And to all Denisov's persuasions, Petya replied that he too was +accustomed to do everything accurately and not just anyhow, and that +he never considered personal danger. + +"For you'll admit that if we don't know for sure how many of them +there are... hundreds of lives may depend on it, while there are +only two of us. Besides, I want to go very much and certainly will go, +so don't hinder me," said he. "It will only make things worse..." + +CHAPTER IX + +Having put on French greatcoats and shakos, Petya and Dolokhov +rode to the clearing from which Denisov had reconnoitered the French +camp, and emerging from the forest in pitch darkness they descended +into the hollow. On reaching the bottom, Dolokhov told the Cossacks +accompanying him to await him there and rode on at a quick trot +along the road to the bridge. Petya, his heart in his mouth with +excitement, rode by his side. + +"If we're caught, I won't be taken alive! I have a pistol," +whispered he. + +"Don't talk Russian," said Dolokhov in a hurried whisper, and at +that very moment they heard through the darkness the challenge: "Qui +vive?"~^ and the click of a musket. + +^~ "Who goes there?" + +The blood rushed to Petya's face and he grasped his pistol. + +"Lanciers du 6-me,"~^ replied Dolokhov, neither hastening nor +slackening his horse's pace. + +^~ "Lancers of the 6th Regiment." + +The black figure of a sentinel stood on the bridge. + +"Mot d'ordre."~^ + +^~ "Password." + +Dolokhov reined in his horse and advanced at a walk. + +"Dites donc, le colonel Gerard est ici?"~^ he asked. + +^~ "Tell me, is Colonel Gerard here?" + +"Mot d'ordre," repeated the sentinel, barring the way and not +replying. + +"Quand un officier fait sa ronde, les sentinelles ne demandent pas +le mot d'ordre..." cried Dolokhov suddenly flaring up and riding +straight at the sentinel. "Je vous demande si le colonel est ici."~^ + +^~ "When an officer is making his round, sentinels don't ask him for +the password.... I am asking you if the colonel is here." + +And without waiting for an answer from the sentinel, who had stepped +aside, Dolokhov rode up the incline at a walk. + +Noticing the black outline of a man crossing the road, Dolokhov +stopped him and inquired where the commander and officers were. The +man, a soldier with a sack over his shoulder, stopped, came close up +to Dolokhov's horse, touched it with his hand, and explained simply +and in a friendly way that the commander and the officers were +higher up the hill to the right in the courtyard of the farm, as he +called the landowner's house. + +Having ridden up the road, on both sides of which French talk +could be heard around the campfires, Dolokhov turned into the +courtyard of the landowner's house. Having ridden in, he dismounted +and approached a big blazing campfire, around which sat several men +talking noisily. Something was boiling in a small cauldron at the edge +of the fire and a soldier in a peaked cap and blue overcoat, lit up by +the fire, was kneeling beside it stirring its contents with a ramrod. + +"Oh, he's a hard nut to crack," said one of the officers who was +sitting in the shadow at the other side of the fire. + +"He'll make them get a move on, those fellows!" said another, +laughing. + +Both fell silent, peering out through the darkness at the sound of +Dolokhov's and Petya's steps as they advanced to the fire leading +their horses. + +"Bonjour, messieurs!"~^ said Dolokhov loudly and clearly. + +^~ "Good day, gentlemen." + +There was a stir among the officers in the shadow beyond the fire, +and one tall, long-necked officer, walking round the fire, came up +to Dolokhov. + +"Is that you, Clement?" he asked. "Where the devil...? But, noticing +his mistake, he broke off short and, with a frown, greeted Dolokhov as +a stranger, asking what he could do for him. + +Dolokhov said that he and his companion were trying to overtake +their regiment, and addressing the company in general asked whether +they knew anything of the 6th Regiment. None of them knew anything, +and Petya thought the officers were beginning to look at him and +Dolokhov with hostility and suspicion. For some seconds all were +silent. + +"If you were counting on the evening soup, you have come too +late," said a voice from behind the fire with a repressed laugh. + +Dolokhov replied that they were not hungry and must push on +farther that night. + +He handed the horses over to the soldier who was stirring the pot +and squatted down on his heels by the fire beside the officer with the +long neck. That officer did not take his eyes from Dolokhov and +again asked to what regiment he belonged. Dolokhov, as if he had not +heard the question, did not reply, but lighting a short French pipe +which he took from his pocket began asking the officer in how far +the road before them was safe from Cossacks. + +"Those brigands are everywhere," replied an officer from behind +the fire. + +Dolokhov remarked that the Cossacks were a danger only to stragglers +such as his companion and himself, "but probably they would not dare +to attack large detachments?" he added inquiringly. No one replied. + +"Well, now he'll come away," Petya thought every moment as he +stood by the campfire listening to the talk. + +But Dolokhov restarted the conversation which had dropped and +began putting direct questions as to how many men there were in the +battalion, how many battalions, and how many prisoners. Asking about +the Russian prisoners with that detachment, Dolokhov said: + +"A horrid business dragging these corpses about with one! It would +be better to shoot such rabble," and burst into loud laughter, so +strange that Petya thought the French would immediately detect their +disguise, and involuntarily took a step back from the campfire. + +No one replied a word to Dolokhov's laughter, and a French officer +whom they could not see (he lay wrapped in a greatcoat) rose and +whispered something to a companion. Dolokhov got up and called to +the soldier who was holding their horses. + +"Will they bring our horses or not?" thought Petya, instinctively +drawing nearer to Dolokhov. + +The horses were brought. + +"Good evening, gentlemen," said Dolokhov. + +Petya wished to say "Good night" but could not utter a word. The +officers were whispering together. Dolokhov was a long time mounting +his horse which would not stand still, then he rode out of the yard at +a footpace. Petya rode beside him, longing to look round to see +whether or no the French were running after them, but not daring to. + +Coming out onto the road Dolokhov did not ride back across the +open country, but through the village. At one spot he stopped and +listened. "Do you hear?" he asked. Petya recognized the sound of +Russian voices and saw the dark figures of Russian prisoners round +their campfires. When they had descended to the bridge Petya and +Dolokhov rode past the sentinel, who without saying a word paced +morosely up and down it, then they descended into the hollow where the +Cossacks awaited them. + +"Well now, good-by. Tell Denisov, 'at the first shot at +daybreak,'" said Dolokhov and was about to ride away, but Petya seized +hold of him. + +"Really!" he cried, "you are such a hero! Oh, how fine, how +splendid! How I love you!" + +"All right, all right!" said Dolokhov. But Petya did not let go of +him and Dolokhov saw through the gloom that Petya was bending toward +him and wanted to kiss him. Dolokhov kissed him, laughed, turned his +horse, and vanished into the darkness. + +CHAPTER X + +Having returned to the watchman's hut, Petya found Denisov in the +passage. He was awaiting Petya's return in a state of agitation, +anxiety, and self-reproach for having let him go. + +"Thank God!" he exclaimed. "Yes, thank God!" he repeated, +listening to Petya's rapturous account. "But, devil take you, I +haven't slept because of you! Well, thank God. Now lie down. We can +still get a nap before morning." + +"But... no," said Petya, "I don't want to sleep yet. Besides I +know myself, if I fall asleep it's finished. And then I am used to not +sleeping before a battle." + +He sat awhile in the hut joyfully recalling the details of his +expedition and vividly picturing to himself what would happen next +day. + +Then, noticing that Denisov was asleep, he rose and went out of +doors. + +It was still quite dark outside. The rain was over, but drops were +still falling from the trees. Near the watchman's hut the black shapes +of the Cossacks' shanties and of horses tethered together could be +seen. Behind the hut the dark shapes of the two wagons with their +horses beside them were discernible, and in the hollow the dying +campfire gleamed red. Not all the Cossacks and hussars were asleep; +here and there, amid the sounds of falling drops and the munching of +the horses near by, could be heard low voices which seemed to be +whispering. + +Petya came out, peered into the darkness, and went up to the wagons. +Someone was snoring under them, and around them stood saddled horses +munching their oats. In the dark Petya recognized his own horse, which +he called "Karabakh" though it was of Ukranian breed, and went up to +it. + +"Well, Karabakh! We'll do some service tomorrow," said he, +sniffing its nostrils and kissing it. + +"Why aren't you asleep, sir?" said a Cossack who was sitting under a +wagon. + +"No, ah... Likhachev- isn't that your name? Do you know I have +only just come back! We've been into the French camp." + +And Petya gave the Cossack a detailed account not only of his ride +but also of his object, and why he considered it better to risk his +life than to act "just anyhow." + +"Well, you should get some sleep now," said the Cossack. + +"No, I am used to this," said Petya. "I say, aren't the flints in +your pistols worn out? I brought some with me. Don't you want any? You +can have some." + +The Cossack bent forward from under the wagon to get a closer look +at Petya. + +"Because I am accustomed to doing everything accurately," said +Petya. "Some fellows do things just anyhow, without preparation, and +then they're sorry for it afterwards. I don't like that." + +"Just so," said the Cossack. + +"Oh yes, another thing! Please, my dear fellow, will you sharpen +my saber for me? It's got bl..." (Petya feared to tell a lie, and +the saber never had been sharpened.) "Can you do it?" + +"Of course I can." + +Likhachev got up, rummaged in his pack, and soon Petya heard the +warlike sound of steel on whetstone. He climbed onto the wagon and sat +on its edge. The Cossack was sharpening the saber under the wagon. + +"I say! Are the lads asleep?" asked Petya. + +"Some are, and some aren't- like us." + +"Well, and that boy?" + +"Vesenny? Oh, he's thrown himself down there in the passage. Fast +asleep after his fright. He was that glad!" + +After that Petya remained silent for a long time, listening to the +sounds. He heard footsteps in the darkness and a black figure +appeared. + +"What are you sharpening?" asked a man coming up to the wagon. + +"Why, this gentleman's saber." + +"That's right," said the man, whom Petya took to be an hussar. +"Was the cup left here?" + +"There, by the wheel!" + +The hussar took the cup. + +"It must be daylight soon," said he, yawning, and went away. + +Petya ought to have known that he was in a forest with Denisov's +guerrilla band, less than a mile from the road, sitting on a wagon +captured from the French beside which horses were tethered, that under +it Likhachev was sitting sharpening a saber for him, that the big dark +blotch to the right was the watchman's hut, and the red blotch below +to the left was the dying embers of a campfire, that the man who had +come for the cup was an hussar who wanted a drink; but he neither knew +nor waited to know anything of all this. He was in a fairy kingdom +where nothing resembled reality. The big dark blotch might really be +the watchman's hut or it might be a cavern leading to the very +depths of the earth. Perhaps the red spot was a fire, or it might be +the eye of an enormous monster. Perhaps he was really sitting on a +wagon, but it might very well be that he was not sitting on a wagon +but on a terribly high tower from which, if he fell, he would have +to fall for a whole day or a whole month, or go on falling and never +reach the bottom. Perhaps it was just the Cossack, Likhachev, who +was sitting under the wagon, but it might be the kindest, bravest, +most wonderful, most splendid man in the world, whom no one knew of. +It might really have been that the hussar came for water and went back +into the hollow, but perhaps he had simply vanished- disappeared +altogether and dissolved into nothingness. + +Nothing Petya could have seen now would have surprised him. He was +in a fairy kingdom where everything was possible. + +He looked up at the sky. And the sky was a fairy realm like the +earth. It was clearing, and over the tops of the trees clouds were +swiftly sailing as if unveiling the stars. Sometimes it looked as if +the clouds were passing, and a clear black sky appeared. Sometimes +it seemed as if the black spaces were clouds. Sometimes the sky seemed +to be rising high, high overhead, and then it seemed to sink so low +that one could touch it with one's hand. + +Petya's eyes began to close and he swayed a little. + +The trees were dripping. Quiet talking was heard. The horses neighed +and jostled one another. Someone snored. + +"Ozheg-zheg, Ozheg-zheg..." hissed the saber against the +whetstone, and suddenly Petya heard an harmonious orchestra playing +some unknown, sweetly solemn hymn. Petya was as musical as Natasha and +more so than Nicholas, but had never learned music or thought about +it, and so the melody that unexpectedly came to his mind seemed to him +particularly fresh and attractive. The music became more and more +audible. The melody grew and passed from one instrument to another. +And what was played was a fugue- though Petya had not the least +conception of what a fugue is. Each instrument- now resembling a +violin and now a horn, but better and clearer than violin or horn- +played its own part, and before it had finished the melody merged with +another instrument that began almost the same air, and then with a +third and a fourth; and they all blended into one and again became +separate and again blended, now into solemn church music, now into +something dazzlingly brilliant and triumphant. + +"Oh- why, that was in a dream!" Petya said to himself, as he lurched +forward. "It's in my ears. But perhaps it's music of my own. Well, +go on, my music! Now!..." + +He closed his eyes, and, from all sides as if from a distance, +sounds fluttered, grew into harmonies, separated, blended, and again +all mingled into the same sweet and solemn hymn. "Oh, this is +delightful! As much as I like and as I like!" said Petya to himself. +He tried to conduct that enormous orchestra. + +"Now softly, softly die away!" and the sounds obeyed him. "Now +fuller, more joyful. Still more and more joyful!" And from an +unknown depth rose increasingly triumphant sounds. "Now voices join +in!" ordered Petya. And at first from afar he heard men's voices and +then women's. The voices grew in harmonious triumphant strength, and +Petya listened to their surpassing beauty in awe and joy. + +With a solemn triumphal march there mingled a song, the drip from +the trees, and the hissing of the saber, "Ozheg-zheg-zheg..." and +again the horses jostled one another and neighed, not disturbing the +choir but joining in it. + +Petya did not know how long this lasted: he enjoyed himself all +the time, wondered at his enjoyment and regretted that there was no +one to share it. He was awakened by Likhachev's kindly voice. + +"It's ready, your honor; you can split a Frenchman in half with it!" + +Petya woke up. + +"It's getting light, it's really getting light!" he exclaimed. + +The horses that had previously been invisible could now be seen to +their very tails, and a watery light showed itself through the bare +branches. Petya shook himself, jumped up, took a ruble from his pocket +and gave it to Likhachev; then he flourished the saber, tested it, and +sheathed it. The Cossacks were untying their horses and tightening +their saddle girths. + +"And here's the commander," said Likhachev. + +Denisov came out of the watchman's hut and, having called Petya, +gave orders to get ready. + +CHAPTER XI + +The men rapidly picked out their horses in the semidarkness, +tightened their saddle girths, and formed companies. Denisov stood +by the watchman's hut giving final orders. The infantry of the +detachment passed along the road and quickly disappeared amid the +trees in the mist of early dawn, hundreds of feet splashing through +the mud. The esaul gave some orders to his men. Petya held his horse +by the bridle, impatiently awaiting the order to mount. His face, +having been bathed in cold water, was all aglow, and his eyes were +particularly brilliant. Cold shivers ran down his spine and his +whole body pulsed rhythmically. + +"Well, is ev'wything weady?" asked Denisov. "Bwing the horses." + +The horses were brought. Denisov was angry with the Cossack +because the saddle girths were too slack, reproved him, and mounted. +Petya put his foot in the stirrup. His horse by habit made as if to +nip his leg, but Petya leaped quickly into the saddle unconscious of +his own weight and, turning to look at the hussars starting in the +darkness behind him, rode up to Denisov. + +"Vasili Dmitrich, entrust me with some commission! Please... for +God's sake...!" said he. + +Denisov seemed to have forgotten Petya's very existence. He turned +to glance at him. + +"I ask one thing of you," he said sternly, "to obey me and not shove +yourself forward anywhere." + +He did not say another word to Petya but rode in silence all the +way. When they had come to the edge of the forest it was noticeably +growing light over the field. Denisov talked in whispers with the +esaul and the Cossacks rode past Petya and Denisov. When they had +all ridden by, Denisov touched his horse and rode down the hill. +Slipping onto their haunches and sliding, the horses descended with +their riders into the ravine. Petya rode beside Denisov, the pulsation +of his body constantly increasing. It was getting lighter and lighter, +but the mist still hid distant objects. Having reached the valley, +Denisov looked back and nodded to a Cossack beside him. + +"The signal!" said he. + +The Cossack raised his arm and a shot rang out. In an instant the +tramp of horses galloping forward was heard, shouts came from +various sides, and then more shots. + +At the first sound of trampling hoofs and shouting, Petya lashed his +horse and loosening his rein galloped forward, not heeding Denisov who +shouted at him. It seemed to Petya that at the moment the shot was +fired it suddenly became as bright as noon. He galloped to the bridge. +Cossacks were galloping along the road in front of him. On the +bridge he collided with a Cossack who had fallen behind, but he +galloped on. In front of him soldiers, probably Frenchmen, were +running from right to left across the road. One of them fell in the +mud under his horse's feet. + +Cossacks were crowding about a hut, busy with something. From the +midst of that crowd terrible screams arose. Petya galloped up, and the +first thing he saw was the pale face and trembling jaw of a Frenchman, +clutching the handle of a lance that had been aimed at him. + +"Hurrah!... Lads!... ours!" shouted Petya, and giving rein to his +excited horse he galloped forward along the village street. + +He could hear shooting ahead of him. Cossacks, hussars, and ragged +Russian prisoners, who had come running from both sides of the road, +were shouting something loudly and incoherently. A gallant-looking +Frenchman, in a blue overcoat, capless, and with a frowning red +face, had been defending himself against the hussars. When Petya +galloped up the Frenchman had already fallen. "Too late again!" +flashed through Petya's mind and he galloped on to the place from +which the rapid firing could be heard. The shots came from the yard of +the landowner's house he had visited the night before with Dolokhov. +The French were making a stand there behind a wattle fence in a garden +thickly overgrown with bushes and were firing at the Cossacks who +crowded at the gateway. Through the smoke, as he approached the +gate, Petya saw Dolokhov, whose face was of a pale-greenish tint, +shouting to his men. "Go round! Wait for the infantry!" he exclaimed +as Petya rode up to him. + +"Wait?... Hurrah-ah-ah!" shouted Petya, and without pausing a moment +galloped to the place whence came the sounds of firing and where the +smoke was thickest. + +A volley was heard, and some bullets whistled past, while others +plashed against something. The Cossacks and Dolokhov galloped after +Petya into the gateway of the courtyard. In the dense wavering smoke +some of the French threw down their arms and ran out of the bushes +to meet the Cossacks, while others ran down the hill toward the +pond. Petya was galloping along the courtyard, but instead of +holding the reins he waved both his arms about rapidly and +strangely, slipping farther and farther to one side in his saddle. His +horse, having galloped up to a campfire that was smoldering in the +morning light, stopped suddenly, and Petya fell heavily on to the +wet ground. The Cossacks saw that his arms and legs jerked rapidly +though his head was quite motionless. A bullet had pierced his skull. + +After speaking to the senior French officer, who came out of the +house with a white handkerchief tied to his sword and announced that +they surrendered, Dolokhov dismounted and went up to Petya, who lay +motionless with outstretched arms. + +"Done for!" he said with a frown, and went to the gate to meet +Denisov who was riding toward him. + +"Killed?" cried Denisov, recognizing from a distance the +unmistakably lifeless attitude- very familiar to him- in which Petya's +body was lying. + +"Done for!" repeated Dolokhov as if the utterance of these words +afforded him pleasure, and he went quickly up to the prisoners, who +were surrounded by Cossacks who had hurried up. "We won't take +them!" he called out to Denisov. + +Denisov did not reply; he rode up to Petya, dismounted, and with +trembling hands turned toward himself the bloodstained, +mud-bespattered face which had already gone white. + +"I am used to something sweet. Raisins, fine ones... take them all!" +he recalled Petya's words. And the Cossacks looked round in surprise +at the sound, like the yelp of a dog, with which Denisov turned +away, walked to the wattle fence, and seized hold of it. + +Among the Russian prisoners rescued by Denisov and Dolokhov was +Pierre Bezukhov. + +CHAPTER XII + +During the whole of their march from Moscow no fresh orders had been +issued by the French authorities concerning the party of prisoners +among whom was Pierre. On the twenty-second of October that party +was no longer with the same troops and baggage trains with which it +had left Moscow. Half the wagons laden with hardtack that had traveled +the first stages with them had been captured by Cossacks, the other +half had gone on ahead. Not one of those dismounted cavalrymen who had +marched in front of the prisoners was left; they had all +disappeared. The artillery the prisoners had seen in front of them +during the first days was now replaced by Marshal Junot's enormous +baggage train, convoyed by Westphalians. Behind the prisoners came a +cavalry baggage train. + +From Vyazma onwards the French army, which had till then moved in +three columns, went on as a single group. The symptoms of disorder +that Pierre had noticed at their first halting place after leaving +Moscow had now reached the utmost limit. + +The road along which they moved was bordered on both sides by dead +horses; ragged men who had fallen behind from various regiments +continually changed about, now joining the moving column, now again +lagging behind it. + +Several times during the march false alarms had been given and the +soldiers of the escort had raised their muskets, fired, and run +headlong, crushing one another, but had afterwards reassembled and +abused each other for their causeless panic. + +These three groups traveling together- the cavalry stores, the +convoy of prisoners, and Junot's baggage train- still constituted a +separate and united whole, though each of the groups was rapidly +melting away. + +Of the artillery baggage train which had consisted of a hundred +and twenty wagons, not more than sixty now remained; the rest had been +captured or left behind. Some of Junot's wagons also had been captured +or abandoned. Three wagons had been raided and robbed by stragglers +from Davout's corps. From the talk of the Germans Pierre learned +that a larger guard had been allotted to that baggage train than to +the prisoners, and that one of their comrades, a German soldier, had +been shot by the marshal's own order because a silver spoon +belonging to the marshal had been found in his possession. + +The group of prisoners had melted away most of all. Of the three +hundred and thirty men who had set out from Moscow fewer than a +hundred now remained. The prisoners were more burdensome to the escort +than even the cavalry saddles or Junot's baggage. They understood that +the saddles and Junot's spoon might be of some use, but that cold +and hungry soldiers should have to stand and guard equally cold and +hungry Russians who froze and lagged behind on the road (in which case +the order was to shoot them) was not merely incomprehensible but +revolting. And the escort, as if afraid, in the grievous condition +they themselves were in, of giving way to the pity they felt for the +prisoners and so rendering their own plight still worse, treated +them with particular moroseness and severity. + +At Dorogobuzh while the soldiers of the convoy, after locking the +prisoners in a stable, had gone off to pillage their own stores, +several of the soldier prisoners tunneled under the wall and ran away, +but were recaptured by the French and shot. + +The arrangement adopted when they started, that the officer +prisoners should be kept separate from the rest, had long since been +abandoned. All who could walk went together, and after the third stage +Pierre had rejoined Karataev and the gray-blue bandy-legged dog that +had chosen Karataev for its master. + +On the third day after leaving Moscow Karataev again fell ill with +the fever he had suffered from in the hospital in Moscow, and as he +grew gradually weaker Pierre kept away from him. Pierre did not know +why, but since Karataev had begun to grow weaker it had cost him an +effort to go near him. When he did so and heard the subdued moaning +with which Karataev generally lay down at the halting places, and when +he smelled the odor emanating from him which was now stronger than +before, Pierre moved farther away and did not think about him. + +While imprisoned in the shed Pierre had learned not with his +intellect but with his whole being, by life itself, that man is +created for happiness, that happiness is within him, in the +satisfaction of simple human needs, and that all unhappiness arises +not from privation but from superfluity. And now during these last +three weeks of the march he had learned still another new, consolatory +truth- that nothing in this world is terrible. He had learned that +as there is no condition in which man can be happy and entirely +free, so there is no condition in which he need be unhappy and lack +freedom. He learned that suffering and freedom have their limits and +that those limits are very near together; that the person in a bed +of roses with one crumpled petal suffered as keenly as he now, +sleeping on the bare damp earth with one side growing chilled while +the other was warming; and that when he had put on tight dancing shoes +he had suffered just as he did now when he walked with bare feet +that were covered with sores- his footgear having long since fallen to +pieces. He discovered that when he had married his wife- of his own +free will as it had seemed to him- he had been no more free than now +when they locked him up at night in a stable. Of all that he himself +subsequently termed his sufferings, but which at the time he +scarcely felt, the worst was the state of his bare, raw, and +scab-covered feet. (The horseflesh was appetizing and nourishing, +the saltpeter flavor of the gunpowder they used instead of salt was +even pleasant; there was no great cold, it was always warm walking +in the daytime, and at night there were the campfires; the lice that +devoured him warmed his body.) The one thing that was at first hard to +bear was his feet. + +After the second day's march Pierre, having examined his feet by the +campfire, thought it would be impossible to walk on them; but when +everybody got up he went along, limping, and, when he had warmed up, +walked without feeling the pain, though at night his feet were more +terrible to look at than before. However, he did not look at them now, +but thought of other things. + +Only now did Pierre realize the full strength of life in man and the +saving power he has of transferring his attention from one thing to +another, which is like the safety valve of a boiler that allows +superfluous steam to blow off when the pressure exceeds a certain +limit. + +He did not see and did not hear how they shot the prisoners who +lagged behind, though more than a hundred perished in that way. He did +not think of Karataev who grew weaker every day and evidently would +soon have to share that fate. Still less did Pierre think about +himself. The harder his position became and the more terrible the +future, the more independent of that position in which he found +himself were the joyful and comforting thoughts, memories, and +imaginings that came to him. + +CHAPTER XIII + +At midday on the twenty-second of October Pierre was going uphill +along the muddy, slippery road, looking at his feet and at the +roughness of the way. Occasionally he glanced at the familiar crowd +around him and then again at his feet. The former and the latter +were alike familiar and his own. The blue-gray bandy legged dog ran +merrily along the side of the road, sometimes in proof of its +agility and self-satisfaction lifting one hind leg and hopping along +on three, and then again going on all four and rushing to bark at +the crows that sat on the carrion. The dog was merrier and sleeker +than it had been in Moscow. All around lay the flesh of different +animals- from men to horses- in various stages of decomposition; and +as the wolves were kept off by the passing men the dog could eat all +it wanted. + +It had been raining since morning and had seemed as if at any moment +it might cease and the sky clear, but after a short break it began +raining harder than before. The saturated road no longer absorbed +the water, which ran along the ruts in streams. + +Pierre walked along, looking from side to side, counting his steps +in threes, and reckoning them off on his fingers. Mentally +addressing the rain, he repeated: "Now then, now then, go on! Pelt +harder!" + +It seemed to him that he was thinking of nothing, but far down and +deep within him his soul was occupied with something important and +comforting. This something was a most subtle spiritual deduction +from a conversation with Karataev the day before. + +At their yesterday's halting place, feeling chilly by a dying +campfire, Pierre had got up and gone to the next one, which was +burning better. There Platon Karataev was sitting covered up- head and +all- with his greatcoat as if it were a vestment, telling the soldiers +in his effective and pleasant though now feeble voice a story Pierre +knew. It was already past midnight, the hour when Karataev was usually +free of his fever and particularly lively. When Pierre reached the +fire and heard Platon's voice enfeebled by illness, and saw his +pathetic face brightly lit up by the blaze, he felt a painful prick at +his heart. His feeling of pity for this man frightened him and he +wished to go away, but there was no other fire, and Pierre sat down, +trying not to look at Platon. + +"Well, how are you?" he asked. + +"How am I? If we grumble at sickness, God won't grant us death," +replied Platon, and at once resumed the story he had begun. + +"And so, brother," he continued, with a smile on his pale +emaciated face and a particularly happy light in his eyes, " you +see, brother..." + +Pierre had long been familiar with that story. Karataev had told +it to him alone some half-dozen times and always with a specially +joyful emotion. But well as he knew it, Pierre now listened to that +tale as to something new, and the quiet rapture Karataev evidently +felt as he told it communicated itself also to Pierre. The story was +of an old merchant who lived a good and God-fearing life with his +family, and who went once to the Nizhni fair with a companion- a +rich merchant. + +Having put up at an inn they both went to sleep, and next morning +his companion was found robbed and with his throat cut. A bloodstained +knife was found under the old merchant's pillow. He was tried, +knouted, and his nostrils having been torn off, "all in due form" as +Karataev put it, he was sent to hard labor in Siberia. + +"And so, brother" (it was at this point that Pierre came up), "ten +years or more passed by. The old man was living as a convict, +submitting as he should and doing no wrong. Only he prayed to God +for death. Well, one night the convicts were gathered just as we +are, with the old man among them. And they began telling what each was +suffering for, and how they had sinned against God. One told how he +had taken a life, another had taken two, a third had set a house on +fire, while another had simply been a vagrant and had done nothing. So +they asked the old man: 'What are you being punished for, Daddy?'- 'I, +my dear brothers,' said he, 'am being punished for my own and other +men's sins. But I have not killed anyone or taken anything that was +not mine, but have only helped my poorer brothers. I was a merchant, +my dear brothers, and had much property. 'And he went on to tell +them all about it in due order. 'I don't grieve for myself,' he +says, 'God, it seems, has chastened me. Only I am sorry for my old +wife and the children,' and the old man began to weep. Now it happened +that in the group was the very man who had killed the other +merchant. 'Where did it happen, Daddy?' he said. 'When, and in what +month?' He asked all about it and his heart began to ache. So he comes +up to the old man like this, and falls down at his feet! 'You are +perishing because of me, Daddy,' he says. 'It's quite true, lads, that +this man,' he says, 'is being tortured innocently and for nothing! I,' +he says, 'did that deed, and I put the knife under your head while you +were asleep. Forgive me, Daddy,' he says, 'for Christ's sake!'" + +Karataev paused, smiling joyously as he gazed into the fire, and +he drew the logs together. + +"And the old man said, 'God will forgive you, we are all sinners +in His sight. I suffer for my own sins,' and he wept bitter tears. +Well, and what do you think, dear friends?" Karataev continued, his +face brightening more and more with a rapturous smile as if what he +now had to tell contained the chief charm and the whole meaning of his +story: "What do you think, dear fellows? That murderer confessed to +the authorities. 'I have taken six lives,' he says (he was a great +sinner), 'but what I am most sorry for is this old man. Don't let +him suffer because of me.' So he confessed and it was all written down +and the papers sent off in due form. The place was a long way off, and +while they were judging, what with one thing and another, filling in +the papers all in due form- the authorities I mean- time passed. The +affair reached the Tsar. After a while the Tsar's decree came: to +set the merchant free and give him a compensation that had been +awarded. The paper arrived and they began to look for the old man. +'Where is the old man who has been suffering innocently and in vain? A +paper has come from the Tsar!' so they began looking for him," here +Karataev's lower jaw trembled, "but God had already forgiven him- he +was dead! That's how it was, dear fellows!" Karataev concluded and sat +for a long time silent, gazing before him with a smile. + +And Pierre's soul was dimly but joyfully filled not by the story +itself but by its mysterious significance: by the rapturous joy that +lit up Karataev's face as he told it, and the mystic significance of +that joy. + +CHAPTER XIV + +"A vos places!"~^ suddenly cried a voice. + +^~ "To your places." + +A pleasant feeling of excitement and an expectation of something +joyful and solemn was aroused among the soldiers of the convoy and the +prisoners. From all sides came shouts of command, and from the left +came smartly dressed cavalrymen on good horses, passing the +prisoners at a trot. The expression on all faces showed the tension +people feel at the approach of those in authority. The prisoners +thronged together and were pushed off the road. The convoy formed up. + +"The Emperor! The Emperor! The Marshal! The Duke!" and hardly had +the sleek cavalry passed, before a carriage drawn by six gray horses +rattled by. Pierre caught a glimpse of a man in a three-cornered hat +with a tranquil look on his handsome, plump, white face. It was one of +the marshals. His eye fell on Pierre's large and striking figure, +and in the expression with which he frowned and looked away Pierre +thought he detected sympathy and a desire to conceal that sympathy. + +The general in charge of the stores galloped after the carriage with +a red and frightened face, whipping up his skinny horse. Several +officers formed a group and some soldiers crowded round them. Their +faces all looked excited and worried. + +"What did he say? What did he say?" Pierre heard them ask. + +While the marshal was passing, the prisoners had huddled together in +a crowd, and Pierre saw Karataev whom he had not yet seen that +morning. He sat in his short overcoat leaning against a birch tree. On +his face, besides the look of joyful emotion it had worn yesterday +while telling the tale of the merchant who suffered innocently, +there was now an expression of quiet solemnity. + +Karataev looked at Pierre with his kindly round eyes now filled with +tears, evidently wishing him to come near that he might say +something to him. But Pierre was not sufficiently sure of himself. +He made as if he did not notice that look and moved hastily away. + +When the prisoners again went forward Pierre looked round. +Karataev was still sitting at the side of the road under the birch +tree and two Frenchmen were talking over his head. Pierre did not look +round again but went limping up the hill. + +From behind, where Karataev had been sitting, came the sound of a +shot. Pierre heard it plainly, but at that moment he remembered that +he had not yet finished reckoning up how many stages still remained to +Smolensk- a calculation he had begun before the marshal went by. And +he again started reckoning. Two French soldiers ran past Pierre, one +of whom carried a lowered and smoking gun. They both looked pale, +and in the expression on their faces- one of them glanced timidly at +Pierre- there was something resembling what he had seen on the face of +the young soldier at the execution. Pierre looked at the soldier and +remembered that, two days before, that man had burned his shirt +while drying it at the fire and how they had laughed at him. + +Behind him, where Karataev had been sitting, the dog began to +howl. "What a stupid beast! Why is it howling?" thought Pierre. + +His comrades, the prisoner soldiers walking beside him, avoided +looking back at the place where the shot had been fired and the dog +was howling, just as Pierre did, but there was a set look on all their +faces. + +CHAPTER XV + +The stores, the prisoners, and the marshal's baggage train stopped +at the village of Shamshevo. The men crowded together round the +campfires. Pierre went up to the fire, ate some roast horseflesh, +lay down with his back to the fire, and immediately fell asleep. He +again slept as he had done at Mozhaysk after the battle of Borodino. + +Again real events mingled with dreams and again someone, he or +another, gave expression to his thoughts, and even to the same +thoughts that had been expressed in his dream at Mozhaysk. + +"Life is everything. Life is God. Everything changes and moves and +that movement is God. And while there is life there is joy in +consciousness of the divine. To love life is to love God. Harder and +more blessed than all else is to love this life in one's sufferings, +in innocent sufferings." + +"Karataev!" came to Pierre's mind. + +And suddenly he saw vividly before him a long-forgotten, kindly +old man who had given him geography lessons in Switzerland. "Wait a +bit," said the old man, and showed Pierre a globe. This globe was +alive- a vibrating ball without fixed dimensions. Its whole surface +consisted of drops closely pressed together, and all these drops moved +and changed places, sometimes several of them merging into one, +sometimes one dividing into many. Each drop tried to spread out and +occupy as much space as possible, but others striving to do the same +compressed it, sometimes destroyed it, and sometimes merged with it. + +"That is life," said the old teacher. + +"How simple and clear it is," thought Pierre. "How is it I did not +know it before?" + +"God is in the midst, and each drop tries to expand so as to reflect +Him to the greatest extent. And it grows, merges, disappears from +the surface, sinks to the depths, and again emerges. There now, +Karataev has spread out and disappeared. Do you understand, my child?" +said the teacher. + +"Do you understand, damn you?" shouted a voice, and Pierre woke up. + +He lifted himself and sat up. A Frenchman who had just pushed a +Russian soldier away was squatting by the fire, engaged in roasting +a piece of meat stuck on a ramrod. His sleeves were rolled up and +his sinewy, hairy, red hands with their short fingers deftly turned +the ramrod. His brown morose face with frowning brows was clearly +visible by the glow of the charcoal. + +"It's all the same to him," he muttered, turning quickly to a +soldier who stood behind him. "Brigand! Get away!" + +And twisting the ramrod he looked gloomily at Pierre, who turned +away and gazed into the darkness. A prisoner, the Russian soldier +the Frenchman had pushed away, was sitting near the fire patting +something with his hand. Looking more closely Pierre recognized the +blue-gray dog, sitting beside the soldier, wagging its tail. + +"Ah, he's come?" said Pierre. "And Plat-" he began, but did not +finish. + +Suddenly and simultaneously a crowd of memories awoke in his +fancy- of the look Platon had given him as he sat under the tree, of +the shot heard from that spot, of the dog's howl, of the guilty +faces of the two Frenchmen as they ran past him, of the lowered and +smoking gun, and of Karataev's absence at this halt- and he was on the +point of realizing that Karataev had been killed, but just at that +instant, he knew not why, the recollection came to his mind of a +summer evening he had spent with a beautiful Polish lady on the +veranda of his house in Kiev. And without linking up the events of the +day or drawing a conclusion from them, Pierre closed his eyes, +seeing a vision of the country in summertime mingled with memories +of bathing and of the liquid, vibrating globe, and he sank into +water so that it closed over his head. + +Before sunrise he was awakened by shouts and loud and rapid +firing. French soldiers were running past him. + +"The Cossacks!" one of them shouted, and a moment later a crowd of +Russians surrounded Pierre. + +For a long time he could not understand what was happening to him. +All around he heard his comrades sobbing with joy. + +"Brothers! Dear fellows! Darlings!" old soldiers exclaimed, weeping, +as they embraced Cossacks and hussars. + +The hussars and Cossacks crowded round the prisoners; one offered +them clothes, another boots, and a third bread. Pierre sobbed as he +sat among them and could not utter a word. He hugged the first soldier +who approached him, and kissed him, weeping. + +Dolokhov stood at the gate of the ruined house, letting a crowd of +disarmed Frenchmen pass by. The French, excited by all that had +happened, were talking loudly among themselves, but as they passed +Dolokhov who gently switched his boots with his whip and watched +them with cold glassy eyes that boded no good, they became silent. +On the opposite side stood Dolokhov's Cossack, counting the +prisoners and marking off each hundred with a chalk line on the gate. + +"How many?" Dolokhov asked the Cossack. + +"The second hundred," replied the Cossack. + +"Filez, filez!"~^ Dolokhov kept saying, having adopted this +expression from the French, and when his eyes met those of the +prisoners they flashed with a cruel light. + +^~ "Get along, get along!" + +Denisov, bareheaded and with a gloomy face, walked behind some +Cossacks who were carrying the body of Petya Rostov to a hole that had +been dug in the garden. + +CHAPTER XVI + +After the twenty-eighth of October when the frosts began, the flight +of the French assumed a still more tragic character, with men +freezing, or roasting themselves to death at the campfires, while +carriages with people dressed in furs continued to drive past, +carrying away the property that had been stolen by the Emperor, kings, +and dukes; but the process of the flight and disintegration of the +French army went on essentially as before. + +From Moscow to Vyazma the French army of seventy-three thousand +men not reckoning the Guards (who did nothing during the whole war but +pillage) was reduced to thirty-six thousand, though not more than five +thousand had fallen in battle. From this beginning the succeeding +terms of the progression could be determined mathematically. The +French army melted away and perished at the same rate from Moscow to +Vyazma, from Vyazma to Smolensk, from Smolensk to the Berezina, and +from the Berezina to Vilna- independently of the greater or lesser +intensity of the cold, the pursuit, the barring of the way, or any +other particular conditions. Beyond Vyazma the French army instead +of moving in three columns huddled together into one mass, and so went +on to the end. Berthier wrote to his Emperor (we know how far +commanding officers allow themselves to diverge from the truth in +describing the condition of an army) and this is what he said: + +I deem it my duty to report to Your Majesty the condition of the +various corps I have had occasion to observe during different stages +of the last two or three days' march. They are almost disbanded. +Scarcely a quarter of the soldiers remain with the standards of +their regiments, the others go off by themselves in different +directions hoping to find food and escape discipline. In general +they regard Smolensk as the place where they hope to recover. During +the last few days many of the men have been seen to throw away their +cartridges and their arms. In such a state of affairs, whatever your +ultimate plans may be, the interest of Your Majesty's service +demands that the army should be rallied at Smolensk and should first +of all be freed from ineffectives, such as dismounted cavalry, +unnecessary baggage, and artillery material that is no longer in +proportion to the present forces. The soldiers, who are worn out +with hunger and fatigue, need these supplies as well as a few days' +rest. Many have died last days on the road or at the bivouacs. This +state of things is continually becoming worse and makes one fear +that unless a prompt remedy is applied the troops will no longer be +under control in case of an engagement. + +November 9: twenty miles from Smolensk. + +After staggering into Smolensk which seemed to them a promised land, +the French, searching for food, killed one another, sacked their own +stores, and when everything had been plundered fled farther. + +They all went without knowing whither or why they were going. +Still less did that genius, Napoleon, know it, for no one issued any +orders to him. But still he and those about him retained their old +habits: wrote commands, letters, reports, and orders of the day; +called one another sire, mon cousin, prince d'Eckmuhl, roi de +Naples, and so on. But these orders and reports were only on paper, +nothing in them was acted upon for they could not be carried out, +and though they entitled one another Majesties, Highnesses, or +Cousins, they all felt that they were miserable wretches who had +done much evil for which they had now to pay. And though they +pretended to be concerned about the army, each was thinking only of +himself and of how to get away quickly and save himself. + +CHAPTER XVII + +The movements of the Russian and French armies during the campaign +from Moscow back to the Niemen were like those in a game of Russian +blindman's bluff, in which two players are blindfolded and one of them +occasionally rings a little bell to inform the catcher of his +whereabouts. First he rings his bell fearlessly, but when he gets into +a tight place he runs away as quietly as he can, and often thinking to +escape runs straight into his opponent's arms. + +At first while they were still moving along the Kaluga road, +Napoleon's armies made their presence known, but later when they +reached the Smolensk road they ran holding the clapper of their bell +tight- and often thinking they were escaping ran right into the +Russians. + +Owing to the rapidity of the French flight and the Russian pursuit +and the consequent exhaustion of the horses, the chief means of +approximately ascertaining the enemy's position- by cavalry +scouting- was not available. Besides, as a result of the frequent +and rapid change of position by each army, even what information was +obtained could not be delivered in time. If news was received one +day that the enemy had been in a certain position the day before, by +the third day when something could have been done, that army was +already two days' march farther on and in quite another position. + +One army fled and the other pursued. Beyond Smolensk there were +several different roads available for the French, and one would have +thought that during their stay of four days they might have learned +where the enemy was, might have arranged some more advantageous plan +and undertaken something new. But after a four days' halt the mob, +with no maneuvers or plans, again began running along the beaten +track, neither to the right nor to the left but along the old- the +worst- road, through Krasnoe and Orsha. + +Expecting the enemy from behind and not in front, the French +separated in their flight and spread out over a distance of +twenty-four hours. In front of them all fled the Emperor, then the +kings, then the dukes. The Russian army, expecting Napoleon to take +the road to the right beyond the Dnieper- which was the only +reasonable thing for him to do- themselves turned to the right and +came out onto the highroad at Krasnoe. And here as in a game of +blindman's buff the French ran into our vanguard. Seeing their enemy +unexpectedly the French fell into confusion and stopped short from the +sudden fright, but then they resumed their flight, abandoning their +comrades who were farther behind. Then for three days separate +portions of the French army- first Murat's (the vice-king's), then +Davout's, and then Ney's- ran, as it were, the gauntlet of the Russian +army. They abandoned one another, abandoned all their heavy baggage, +their artillery, and half their men, and fled, getting past the +Russians by night by making semicircles to the right. + +Ney, who came last, had been busying himself blowing up the walls of +Smolensk which were in nobody's way, because despite the unfortunate +plight of the French or because of it, they wished to punish the floor +against which they had hurt themselves. Ney, who had had a corps of +ten thousand men, reached Napoleon at Orsha with only one thousand men +left, having abandoned all the rest and all his cannon, and having +crossed the Dnieper at night by stealth at a wooded spot. + +From Orsha they fled farther along the road to Vilna, still +playing at blindman's buff with the pursuing army. At the Berezina +they again became disorganized, many were drowned and many +surrendered, but those who got across the river fled farther. Their +supreme chief donned a fur coat and, having seated himself in a +sleigh, galloped on alone, abandoning his companions. The others who +could do so drove away too, leaving those who could not to surrender +or die. + +CHAPTER XVIII + +This campaign consisted in a flight of the French during which +they did all they could to destroy themselves. From the time they +turned onto the Kaluga road to the day their leader fled from the +army, none of the movements of the crowd had any sense. So one might +have thought that regarding this period of the campaign the +historians, who attributed the actions of the mass to the will of +one man, would have found it impossible to make the story of the +retreat fit their theory. But no! Mountains of books have been written +by the historians about this campaign, and everywhere are described +Napoleon's arrangements, the maneuvers, and his profound plans which +guided the army, as well as the military genius shown by his marshals. + +The retreat from Malo-Yaroslavets when he had a free road into a +well-supplied district and the parallel road was open to him along +which Kutuzov afterwards pursued him- this unnecessary retreat along a +devastated road- is explained to us as being due to profound +considerations. Similarly profound considerations are given for his +retreat from Smolensk to Orsha. Then his heroism at Krasnoe is +described, where he is reported to have been prepared to accept battle +and take personal command, and to have walked about with a birch stick +and said: + +"J'ai assez fait l'empereur; il est temps de faire le general,"~^ but +nevertheless immediately ran away again, abandoning to its fate the +scattered fragments of the army he left behind. + +^~ "I have acted the Emperor long enough; it is time to act the +general." + +Then we are told of the greatness of soul of the marshals, +especially of Ney- a greatness of soul consisting in this: that he +made his way by night around through the forest and across the Dnieper +and escaped to Orsha, abandoning standards, artillery, and nine tenths +of his men. + +And lastly, the final departure of the great Emperor from his heroic +army is presented to us by the historians as something great and +characteristic of genius. Even that final running away, described in +ordinary language as the lowest depth of baseness which every child is +taught to be ashamed of- even that act finds justification in the +historians' language. + +When it is impossible to stretch the very elastic threads of +historical ratiocination any farther, when actions are clearly +contrary to all that humanity calls right or even just, the historians +produce a saving conception of "greatness." "Greatness," it seems, +excludes the standards of right and wrong. For the "great" man nothing +is wrong, there is no atrocity for which a "great" man can be blamed. + +"C'est grand!"~^ say the historians, and there no longer exists +either good or evil but only "grand" and "not grand." Grand is good, +not grand is bad. Grand is the characteristic, in their conception, of +some special animals called "heroes." And Napoleon, escaping home in a +warm fur coat and leaving to perish those who were not merely his +comrades but were (in his opinion) men he had brought there, feels que +c'est grand,~^ and his soul is tranquil. + +^~ "It is great." + +^~ That it is great. + +"Du sublime (he saw something sublime in himself) au ridicule il n'y +a qu'un pas,"~^ said he. And the whole world for fifty years has been +repeating: "Sublime! Grand! Napoleon le Grand!" Du sublime au ridicule +il n'y a qu'un pas. + +^~ "From the sublime to the ridiculous is but a step." + +And it occurs to no one that to admit a greatness not +commensurable with the standard of right and wrong is merely to +admit one's own nothingness and immeasurable meanness. + +For us with the standard of good and evil given us by Christ, no +human actions are incommensurable. And there is no greatness where +simplicity, goodness, and truth are absent. + +CHAPTER XIX + +What Russian, reading the account of the last part of the campaign +of 1812, has not experienced an uncomfortable feeling of regret, +dissatisfaction, and perplexity? Who has not asked himself how it is +that the French were not all captured or destroyed when our three +armies surrounded them in superior numbers, when the disordered +French, hungry and freezing, surrendered in crowds, and when (as the +historians relate) the aim of the Russians was to stop the French, +to cut them off, and capture them all? + +How was it that the Russian army, which when numerically weaker than +the French had given battle at Borodino, did not achieve its purpose +when it had surrounded the French on three sides and when its aim +was to capture them? Can the French be so enormously superior to us +that when we had surrounded them with superior forces we could not +beat them? How could that happen? + +History (or what is called by that name) replying to these questions +says that this occurred because Kutuzov and Tormasov and Chichagov, +and this man and that man, did not execute such and such maneuvers... + +But why did they not execute those maneuvers? And why if they were +guilty of not carrying out a prearranged plan were they not tried +and punished? But even if we admitted that Kutuzov, Chichagov, and +others were the cause of the Russian failures, it is still +incomprehensible why, the position of the Russian army being what it +was at Krasnoe and at the Berezina (in both cases we had superior +forces), the French army with its marshals, kings, and Emperor was not +captured, if that was what the Russians aimed at. + +The explanation of this strange fact given by Russian military +historians (to the effect that Kutuzov hindered an attack) is +unfounded, for we know that he could not restrain the troops from +attacking at Vyazma and Tarutino. + +Why was the Russian army- which with inferior forces had withstood +the enemy in full strength at Borodino- defeated at Krasnoe and the +Berezina by the disorganized crowds of the French when it was +numerically superior? + +If the aim of the Russians consisted in cutting off and capturing +Napoleon and his marshals- and that aim was not merely frustrated +but all attempts to attain it were most shamefully baffled- then +this last period of the campaign is quite rightly considered by the +French to be a series of victories, and quite wrongly considered +victorious by Russian historians. + +The Russian military historians in so far as they submit to claims +of logic must admit that conclusion, and in spite of their lyrical +rhapsodies about valor, devotion, and so forth, must reluctantly admit +that the French retreat from Moscow was a series of victories for +Napoleon and defeats for Kutuzov. + +But putting national vanity entirely aside one feels that such a +conclusion involves a contradiction, since the series of French +victories brought the French complete destruction, while the series of +Russian defeats led to the total destruction of their enemy and the +liberation of their country. + +The source of this contradiction lies in the fact that the +historians studying the events from the letters of the sovereigns +and the generals, from memoirs, reports, projects, and so forth, +have attributed to this last period of the war of 1812 an aim that +never existed, namely that of cutting off and capturing Napoleon +with his marshals and his army. + +There never was or could have been such an aim, for it would have +been senseless and its attainment quite impossible. + +It would have been senseless, first because Napoleon's +disorganized army was flying from Russia with all possible speed, that +is to say, was doing just what every Russian desired. So what was +the use of performing various operations on the French who were +running away as fast as they possibly could? + +Secondly, it would have been senseless to block the passage of men +whose whole energy was directed to flight. + +Thirdly, it would have been senseless to sacrifice one's own +troops in order to destroy the French army, which without external +interference was destroying itself at such a rate that, though its +path was not blocked, it could not carry across the frontier more than +it actually did in December, namely a hundredth part of the original +army. + +Fourthly, it would have been senseless to wish to take captive the +Emperor, kings, and dukes- whose capture would have been in the +highest degree embarrassing for the Russians, as the most adroit +diplomatists of the time (Joseph de Maistre and others) recognized. +Still more senseless would have been the wish to capture army corps of +the French, when our own army had melted away to half before +reaching Krasnoe and a whole division would have been needed to convoy +the corps of prisoners, and when our men were not always getting +full rations and the prisoners already taken were perishing of hunger. + +All the profound plans about cutting off and capturing Napoleon +and his army were like the plan of a market gardener who, when driving +out of his garden a cow that had trampled down the beds he had +planted, should run to the gate and hit the cow on the head. The +only thing to be said in excuse of that gardener would be that he +was very angry. But not even that could be said for those who drew +up this project, for it was not they who had suffered from the +trampled beds. + +But besides the fact that cutting off Napoleon with his army would +have been senseless, it was impossible. + +It was impossible first because- as experience shows that a +three-mile movement of columns on a battlefield never coincides with +the plans- the probability of Chichagov, Kutuzov, and Wittgenstein +effecting a junction on time at an appointed place was so remote as to +be tantamount to impossibility, as in fact thought Kutuzov, who when +he received the plan remarked that diversions planned over great +distances do not yield the desired results. + +Secondly it was impossible, because to paralyze the momentum with +which Napoleon's army was retiring, incomparably greater forces than +the Russians possessed would have been required. + +Thirdly it was impossible, because the military term "to cut off" +has no meaning. One can cut off a slice of bread, but not an army. +To cut off an army- to bar its road- is quite impossible, for there is +always plenty of room to avoid capture and there is the night when +nothing can be seen, as the military scientists might convince +themselves by the example of Krasnoe and of the Berezina. It is only +possible to capture prisoners if they agree to be captured, just as it +is only possible to catch a swallow if it settles on one's hand. Men +can only be taken prisoners if they surrender according to the rules +of strategy and tactics, as the Germans did. But the French troops +quite rightly did not consider that this suited them, since death by +hunger and cold awaited them in flight or captivity alike. + +Fourthly and chiefly it was impossible, because never since the +world began has a war been fought under such conditions as those +that obtained in 1812, and the Russian army in its pursuit of the +French strained its strength to the utmost and could not have done +more without destroying itself. + +During the movement of the Russian army from Tarutino to Krasnoe +it lost fifty thousand sick or stragglers, that is a number equal to +the population of a large provincial town. Half the men fell out of +the army without a battle. + +And it is of this period of the campaign- when the army lacked boots +and sheepskin coats, was short of provisions and without vodka, and +was camping out at night for months in the snow with fifteen degrees +of frost, when there were only seven or eight hours of daylight and +the rest was night in which the influence of discipline cannot be +maintained, when men were taken into that region of death where +discipline fails, not for a few hours only as in a battle, but for +months, where they were every moment fighting death from hunger and +cold, when half the army perished in a single month- it is of this +period of the campaign that the historians tell us how Miloradovich +should have made a flank march to such and such a place, Tormasov to +another place, and Chichagov should have crossed (more than +knee-deep in snow) to somewhere else, and how so-and-so "routed" and +"cut off" the French and so on and so on. + +The Russians, half of whom died, did all that could and should +have been done to attain an end worthy of the nation, and they are not +to blame because other Russians, sitting in warm rooms, proposed +that they should do what was impossible. + +All that strange contradiction now difficult to understand between +the facts and the historical accounts only arises because the +historians dealing with the matter have written the history of the +beautiful words and sentiments of various generals, and not the +history of the events. + +To them the words of Miloradovich seem very interesting, and so do +their surmises and the rewards this or that general received; but +the question of those fifty thousand men who were left in hospitals +and in graves does not even interest them, for it does not come within +the range of their investigation. + +Yet one need only discard the study of the reports and general plans +and consider the movement of those hundreds of thousands of men who +took a direct part in the events, and all the questions that seemed +insoluble easily and simply receive an immediate and certain solution. + +The aim of cutting off Napoleon and his army never existed except in +the imaginations of a dozen people. It could not exist because it +was senseless and unattainable. + +The people had a single aim: to free their land from invasion. +That aim was attained in the first place of itself, as the French +ran away, and so it was only necessary not to stop their flight. +Secondly it was attained by the guerrilla warfare which was destroying +the French, and thirdly by the fact that a large Russian army was +following the French, ready to use its strength in case their movement +stopped. + +The Russian army had to act like a whip to a running animal. And the +experienced driver knew it was better to hold the whip raised as a +menace than to strike the running animal on the head. + +BOOK FIFTEEN: 1812 - 13 + +CHAPTER I + +When seeing a dying animal a man feels a sense of horror: +substance similar to his own is perishing before his eyes. But when it +is a beloved and intimate human being that is dying, besides this +horror at the extinction of life there is a severance, a spiritual +wound, which like a physical wound is sometimes fatal and sometimes +heals, but always aches and shrinks at any external irritating touch. + +After Prince Andrew's death Natasha and Princess Mary alike felt +this. Drooping in spirit and closing their eyes before the menacing +cloud of death that overhung them, they dared not look life in the +face. They carefully guarded their open wounds from any rough and +painful contact. Everything: a carriage passing rapidly in the street, +a summons to dinner, the maid's inquiry what dress to prepare, or +worse still any word of insincere or feeble sympathy, seemed an +insult, painfully irritated the wound, interrupting that necessary +quiet in which they both tried to listen to the stern and dreadful +choir that still resounded in their imagination, and hindered their +gazing into those mysterious limitless vistas that for an instant +had opened out before them. + +Only when alone together were they free from such outrage and +pain. They spoke little even to one another, and when they did it +was of very unimportant matters. + +Both avoided any allusion to the future. To admit the possibility of +a future seemed to them to insult his memory. Still more carefully did +they avoid anything relating to him who was dead. It seemed to them +that what they had lived through and experienced could not be +expressed in words, and that any reference to the details of his +life infringed the majesty and sacredness of the mystery that had been +accomplished before their eyes. + +Continued abstention from speech, and constant avoidance of +everything that might lead up to the subject- this halting on all +sides at the boundary of what they might not mention- brought before +their minds with still greater purity and clearness what they were +both feeling. + +But pure and complete sorrow is as impossible as pure and complete +joy. Princess Mary, in her position as absolute and independent +arbiter of her own fate and guardian and instructor of her nephew, was +the first to be called back to life from that realm of sorrow in which +she had dwelt for the first fortnight. She received letters from her +relations to which she had to reply; the room in which little Nicholas +had been put was damp and he began to cough; Alpatych came to +Yaroslavl with reports on the state of their affairs and with advice +and suggestions that they should return to Moscow to the house on +the Vozdvizhenka Street, which had remained uninjured and needed +only slight repairs. Life did not stand still and it was necessary +to live. Hard as it was for Princess Mary to emerge from the realm +of secluded contemplation in which she had lived till then, and +sorry and almost ashamed as she felt to leave Natasha alone, yet the +cares of life demanded her attention and she involuntarily yielded +to them. She went through the accounts with Alpatych, conferred with +Dessalles about her nephew, and gave orders and made preparations +for the journey to Moscow. + +Natasha remained alone and, from the time Princess Mary began making +preparations for departure, held aloof from her too. + +Princess Mary asked the countess to let Natasha go with her to +Moscow, and both parents gladly accepted this offer, for they saw +their daughter losing strength every day and thought that a change +of scene and the advice of Moscow doctors would be good for her. + +"I am not going anywhere," Natasha replied when this was proposed to +her. "Do please just leave me alone!" And she ran out of the room, +with difficulty refraining from tears of vexation and irritation +rather than of sorrow. + +After she felt herself deserted by Princes Mary and alone in her +grief, Natasha spent most of the time in her room by herself, +sitting huddled up feet and all in the corner of the sofa, tearing and +twisting something with her slender nervous fingers and gazing +intently and fixedly at whatever her eyes chanced to fall on. This +solitude exhausted and tormented her but she was in absolute need of +it. As soon as anyone entered she got up quickly, changed her position +and expression, and picked up a book or some sewing, evidently waiting +impatiently for the intruder to go. + +She felt all the time as if she might at any moment penetrate that +on which- with a terrible questioning too great for her strength- +her spiritual gaze was fixed. + +One day toward the end of December Natasha, pale and thin, dressed +in a black woolen gown, her plaited hair negligently twisted into a +knot, was crouched feet and all in the corner of her sofa, nervously +crumpling and smoothing out the end of her sash while she looked at +a corner of the door. + +She was gazing in the direction in which he had gone- to the other +side of life. And that other side of life, of which she had never +before thought and which had formerly seemed to her so far away and +improbable, was now nearer and more akin and more comprehensible +than this side of life, where everything was either emptiness and +desolation or suffering and indignity. + +She was gazing where she knew him to be; but she could not imagine +him otherwise than as he had been here. She now saw him again as he +had been at Mytishchi, at Troitsa, and at Yaroslavl. + +She saw his face, heard his voice, repeated his words and her own, +and sometimes devised other words they might have spoken. + +There he is lying back in an armchair in his velvet cloak, leaning +his head on his thin pale hand. His chest is dreadfully hollow and his +shoulders raised. His lips are firmly closed, his eyes glitter, and +a wrinkle comes and goes on his pale forehead. One of his legs +twitches just perceptibly, but rapidly. Natasha knows that he is +struggling with terrible pain. "What is that pain like? Why does he +have that pain? What does he feel? How does it hurt him?" thought +Natasha. He noticed her watching him, raised his eyes, and began to +speak seriously: + +"One thing would be terrible," said he: "to bind oneself forever +to a suffering man. It would be continual torture." And he looked +searchingly at her. Natasha as usual answered before she had time to +think what she would say. She said: "This can't go on- it won't. You +will get well- quite well." + +She now saw him from the commencement of that scene and relived what +she had then felt. She recalled his long sad and severe look at +those words and understood the meaning of the rebuke and despair in +that protracted gaze. + +"I agreed," Natasha now said to herself, "that it would be +dreadful if he always continued to suffer. I said it then only because +it would have been dreadful for him, but he understood it differently. +He thought it would be dreadful for me. He then still wished to live +and feared death. And I said it so awkwardly and stupidly! I did not +say what I meant. I thought quite differently. Had I said what I +thought, I should have said: even if he had to go on dying, to die +continually before my eyes, I should have been happy compared with +what I am now. Now there is nothing... nobody. Did he know that? No, +he did not and never will know it. And now it will never, never be +possible to put it right." And now he again seemed to be saying the +same words to her, only in her imagination Natasha this time gave +him a different answer. She stopped him and said: "Terrible for you, +but not for me! You know that for me there is nothing in life but you, +and to suffer with you is the greatest happiness for me," and he +took her hand and pressed it as he had pressed it that terrible +evening four days before his death. And in her imagination she said +other tender and loving words which she might have said then but +only spoke now: "I love thee!... thee! I love, love..." she said, +convulsively pressing her hands and setting her teeth with a desperate +effort... + +She was overcome by sweet sorrow and tears were already rising in +her eyes; then she suddenly asked herself to whom she was saying this. +Again everything was shrouded in hard, dry perplexity, and again +with a strained frown she peered toward the world where he was. And +now, now it seemed to her she was penetrating the mystery.... But at +the instant when it seemed that the incomprehensible was revealing +itself to her a loud rattle of the door handle struck painfully on her +ears. Dunyasha, her maid, entered the room quickly and abruptly with a +frightened look on her face and showing no concern for her mistress. + +"Come to your Papa at once, please!" said she with a strange, +excited look. "A misfortune... about Peter Ilynich... a letter," she +finished with a sob. + +CHAPTER II + +Besides a feeling of aloofness from everybody Natasha was feeling +a special estrangement from the members of her own family. All of +them- her father, mother, and Sonya- were so near to her, so familiar, +so commonplace, that all their words and feelings seemed an insult +to the world in which she had been living of late, and she felt not +merely indifferent to them but regarded them with hostility. She heard +Dunyasha's words about Peter Ilynich and a misfortune, but did not +grasp them. + +"What misfortune? What misfortune can happen to them? They just live +their own old, quiet, and commonplace life," thought Natasha. + +As she entered the ballroom her father was hurriedly coming out of +her mother's room. His face was puckered up and wet with tears. He had +evidently run out of that room to give vent to the sobs that were +choking him. When he saw Natasha he waved his arms despairingly and +burst into convulsively painful sobs that distorted his soft round +face. + +"Pe... Petya... Go, go, she... is calling..." and weeping like a +child and quickly shuffling on his feeble legs to a chair, he almost +fell into it, covering his face with his hands. + +Suddenly an electric shock seemed to run through Natasha's whole +being. Terrible anguish struck her heart, she felt a dreadful ache +as if something was being torn inside her and she were dying. But +the pain was immediately followed by a feeling of release from the +oppressive constraint that had prevented her taking part in life. +The sight of her father, the terribly wild cries of her mother that +she heard through the door, made her immediately forget herself and +her own grief. + +She ran to her father, but he feebly waved his arm, pointing to +her mother's door. Princess Mary, pale and with quivering chin, came +out from that room and taking Natasha by the arm said something to +her. Natasha neither saw nor heard her. She went in with rapid +steps, pausing at the door for an instant as if struggling with +herself, and then ran to her mother. + +The countess was lying in an armchair in a strange and awkward +position, stretching out and beating her head against the wall. +Sonya and the maids were holding her arms. + +"Natasha! Natasha!..." cried the countess. "It's not true... it's +not true... He's lying... Natasha!" she shrieked, pushing those around +her away. "Go away, all of you; it's not true! Killed!... ha, ha, +ha!... It's not true!" + +Natasha put one knee on the armchair, stooped over her mother, +embraced her, and with unexpected strength raised her, turned her face +toward herself, and clung to her. + +"Mummy!... darling!... I am here, my dearest Mummy," she kept on +whispering, not pausing an instant. + +She did not let go of her mother but struggled tenderly with her, +demanded a pillow and hot water, and unfastened and tore open her +mother's dress. + +"My dearest darling... Mummy, my precious!..." she whispered +incessantly, kissing her head, her hands, her face, and feeling her +own irrepressible and streaming tears tickling her nose and cheeks. + +The countess pressed her daughter's hand, closed her eyes, and +became quiet for a moment. Suddenly she sat up with unaccustomed +swiftness, glanced vacantly around her, and seeing Natasha began to +press her daughter's head with all her strength. Then she turned +toward her daughter's face which was wincing with pain and gazed +long at it. + +"Natasha, you love me?" she said in a soft trustful whisper. +"Natasha, you would not deceive me? You'll tell me the whole truth?" + +Natasha looked at her with eyes full of tears and in her look +there was nothing but love and an entreaty for forgiveness. + +"My darling Mummy!" she repeated, straining all the power of her +love to find some way of taking on herself the excess of grief that +crushed her mother. + +And again in a futile struggle with reality her mother, refusing +to believe that she could live when her beloved boy was killed in +the bloom of life, escaped from reality into a world of delirium. + +Natasha did not remember how that day passed nor that night, nor the +next day and night. She did not sleep and did not leave her mother. +Her persevering and patient love seemed completely to surround the +countess every moment, not explaining or consoling, but recalling +her to life. + +During the third night the countess kept very quiet for a few +minutes, and Natasha rested her head on the arm of her chair and +closed her eyes, but opened them again on hearing the bedstead +creak. The countess was sitting up in bed and speaking softly. + +"How glad I am you have come. You are tired. Won't you have some +tea?" Natasha went up to her. "You have improved in looks and grown +more manly," continued the countess, taking her daughter's hand. + +"Mamma! What are you saying..." + +"Natasha, he is no more, no more!" + +And embracing her daughter, the countess began to weep for the first +time. + +CHAPTER III + +Princess Mary postponed her departure. Sonya and the count tried +to replace Natasha but could not. They saw that she alone was able +to restrain her mother from unreasoning despair. For three weeks +Natasha remained constantly at her mother's side, sleeping on a lounge +chair in her room, making her eat and drink, and talking to her +incessantly because the mere sound of her tender, caressing tones +soothed her mother. + +The mother's wounded spirit could not could not heal. Petya's +death had torn from her half her life. When the news of Petya's +death had come she had been a fresh and vigorous woman of fifty, but a +month later she left her room a listless old woman taking no +interest in life. But the same blow that almost killed the countess, +this second blow, restored Natasha to life. + +A spiritual wound produced by a rending of the spiritual body is +like a physical wound and, strange as it may seem, just as a deep +wound may heal and its edges join, physical and spiritual wounds alike +can yet heal completely only as the result of a vital force from +within. + +Natasha's wound healed in that way. She thought her life was +ended, but her love for her mother unexpectedly showed her that the +essence of life- love- was still active within her. Love awoke and +so did life. + +Prince Andrew's last days had bound Princess Mary and Natasha +together; this new sorrow brought them still closer to one another. +Princess Mary put off her departure, and for three weeks looked +after Natasha as if she had been a sick child. The last weeks passed +in her mother's bedroom had strained Natasha's physical strength. + +One afternoon noticing Natasha shivering with fever, Princess Mary +took her to her own room and made her lie down on the bed. Natasha lay +down, but when Princess Mary had drawn the blinds and was going away +she called her back. + +"I don't want to sleep, Mary, sit by me a little." + +"You are tired- try to sleep." + +"No, no. Why did you bring me away? She will be asking for me." + +"She is much better. She spoke so well today," said Princess Mary. + +Natasha lay on the bed and in the semidarkness of the room scanned +Princess Mary's face. + +"Is she like him?" thought Natasha. "Yes, like and yet not like. But +she is quite original, strange, new, and unknown. And she loves me. +What is in her heart? All that is good. But how? What is her mind +like? What does she think about me? Yes, she is splendid!" + +"Mary," she said timidly, drawing Princess Mary's hand to herself, +"Mary, you mustn't think me wicked. No? Mary darling, how I love +you! Let us be quite, quite friends." + +And Natasha, embracing her, began kissing her face and hands, making +Princess Mary feel shy but happy by this demonstration of her +feelings. + +From that day a tender and passionate friendship such as exists only +between women was established between Princess Mary and Natasha. +They were continually kissing and saying tender things to one +another and spent most of their time together. When one went out the +other became restless and hastened to rejoin her. Together they felt +more in harmony with one another than either of them felt with herself +when alone. A feeling stronger than friendship sprang up between them; +an exclusive feeling of life being possible only in each other's +presence. + +Sometimes they were silent for hours; sometimes after they were +already in bed they would begin talking and go on till morning. They +spoke most of what was long past. Princess Mary spoke of her +childhood, of her mother, her father, and her daydreams; and +Natasha, who with a passive lack of understanding had formerly +turned away from that life of devotion, submission, and the poetry +of Christian self-sacrifice, now feeling herself bound to Princess +Mary by affection, learned to love her past too and to understand a +side of life previously incomprehensible to her. She did not think +of applying submission and self-abnegation to her own life, for she +was accustomed to seek other joys, but she understood and loved in +another those previously incomprehensible virtues. For Princess +Mary, listening to Natasha's tales of childhood and early youth, there +also opened out a new and hitherto uncomprehended side of life: belief +in life and its enjoyment. + +Just as before, they never mentioned him so as not to lower (as they +thought) their exalted feelings by words; but this silence about him +had the effect of making them gradually begin to forget him without +being conscious of it. + +Natasha had grown thin and pale and physically so weak that they all +talked about her health, and this pleased her. But sometimes she was +suddenly overcome by fear not only of death but of sickness, weakness, +and loss of good looks, and involuntarily she examined her bare arm +carefully, surprised at its thinness, and in the morning noticed her +drawn and, as it seemed to her, piteous face in her glass. It seemed +to her that things must be so, and yet it was dreadfully sad. + +One day she went quickly upstairs and found herself out of breath. +Unconsciously she immediately invented a reason for going down, and +then, testing her strength, ran upstairs again, observing the result. + +Another time when she called Dunyasha her voice trembled, so she +called again- though she could hear Dunyasha coming- called her in the +deep chest tones in which she had been wont to sing, sing, and +listened attentively to herself. + +She did not know and would not have believed it, but beneath the +layer of slime that covered her soul and seemed to her impenetrable, +delicate young shoots of grass were already sprouting, which taking +root would so cover with their living verdure the grief that weighed +her down that it would soon no longer be seen or noticed. The wound +had begun to heal from within. + +At the end of January Princess Mary left for Moscow, and the count +insisted on Natasha's going with her to consult the doctors. + +CHAPTER IV + +After the encounter at Vyazma, where Kutuzov had been unable to hold +back his troops in their anxiety to overwhelm and cut off the enemy +and so on, the farther movement of the fleeing French, and of the +Russians who pursued them, continued as far as Krasnoe without a +battle. The flight was so rapid that the Russian army pursuing the +French could not keep up with them; cavalry and artillery horses broke +down, and the information received of the movements of the French +was never reliable. + +The men in the Russian army were so worn out by this continuous +marching at the rate of twenty-seven miles a day that they could not +go any faster. + +To realize the degree of exhaustion of the Russian army it is only +necessary to grasp clearly the meaning of the fact that, while not +losing more than five thousand killed and wounded after Tarutino and +less than a hundred prisoners, the Russian army which left that +place a hundred thousand strong reached Krasnoe with only fifty +thousand. + +The rapidity of the Russian pursuit was just as destructive to our +army as the flight of the French was to theirs. The only difference +was that the Russian army moved voluntarily, with no such threat of +destruction as hung over the French, and that the sick Frenchmen +were left behind in enemy hands while the sick Russians left behind +were among their own people. The chief cause of the wastage of +Napoleon's army was the rapidity of its movement, and a convincing +proof of this is the corresponding decrease of the Russian army. + +Kutuzov as far as was in his power, instead of trying to check the +movement of the French as was desired in Petersburg and by the Russian +army generals, directed his whole activity here, as he had done at +Tarutino and Vyazma, to hastening it on while easing the movement of +our army. + +But besides this, since the exhaustion and enormous diminution of +the army caused by the rapidity of the advance had become evident, +another reason for slackening the pace and delaying presented itself +to Kutuzov. The aim of the Russian army was to pursue the French. +The road the French would take was unknown, and so the closer our +troops trod on their heels the greater distance they had to cover. +Only by following at some distance could one cut across the zigzag +path of the French. All the artful maneuvers suggested by our generals +meant fresh movements of the army and a lengthening of its marches, +whereas the only reasonable aim was to shorten those marches. To +that end Kutuzov's activity was directed during the whole campaign +from Moscow to Vilna- not casually or intermittently but so +consistently that he never once deviated from it. + +Kutuzov felt and knew- not by reasoning or science but with the +whole of his Russian being- what every Russian soldier felt: that +the French were beaten, that the enemy was flying and must be driven +out; but at the same time he like the soldiers realized all the +hardship of this march, the rapidity of which was unparalleled for +such a time of the year. + +But to the generals, especially the foreign ones in the Russian +army, who wished to distinguish themselves, to astonish somebody, +and for some reason to capture a king or a duke- it seemed that now- +when any battle must be horrible and senseless- was the very time to +fight and conquer somebody. Kutuzov merely shrugged his shoulders when +one after another they presented projects of maneuvers to be made with +those soldiers- ill-shod, insufficiently clad, and half starved- who +within a month and without fighting a battle had dwindled to half +their number, and who at the best if the flight continued would have +to go a greater distance than they had already traversed, before +they reached the frontier. + +This longing to distinguish themselves, to maneuver, to overthrow, +and to cut off showed itself particularly whenever the Russians +stumbled on the French army. + +So it was at Krasnoe, where they expected to find one of the three +French columns and stumbled instead on Napoleon himself with sixteen +thousand men. Despite all Kutuzov's efforts to avoid that ruinous +encounter and to preserve his troops, the massacre of the broken mob +of French soldiers by worn-out Russians continued at Krasnoe for three +days. + +Toll wrote a disposition: "The first column will march to so and +so," etc. And as usual nothing happened in accord with the +disposition. Prince Eugene of Wurttemberg fired from a hill over the +French crowds that were running past, and demanded reinforcements +which did not arrive. The French, avoiding the Russians, dispersed and +hid themselves in the forest by night, making their way round as +best they could, and continued their flight. + +Miloradovich, who said he did not want to know anything about the +commissariat affairs of his detachment, and could never be found +when he was wanted- that chevalier sans peur et sans reproche~^ as he +styled himself- who was fond of parleys with the French, sent envoys +demanding their surrender, wasted time, and did not do what he was +ordered to do. + +^~ Knight without fear and without reproach. + +"I give you that column, lads," he said, riding up to the troops and +pointing out the French to the cavalry. + +And the cavalry, with spurs and sabers urging on horses that could +scarcely move, trotted with much effort to the column presented to +them- that is to say, to a crowd of Frenchmen stark with cold, +frost-bitten, and starving- and the column that had been presented +to them threw down its arms and surrendered as it had long been +anxious to do. + +At Krasnoe they took twenty-six thousand prisoners, several +hundred cannon, and a stick called a "marshal's staff," and disputed +as to who had distinguished himself and were pleased with their +achievement- though they much regretted not having taken Napoleon, +or at least a marshal or a hero of some sort, and reproached one +another and especially Kutuzov for having failed to do so. + +These men, carried away by their passions, were but blind tools of +the most melancholy law of necessity, but considered themselves heroes +and imagined that they were accomplishing a most noble and honorable +deed. They blamed Kutuzov and said that from the very beginning of the +campaign he had prevented their vanquishing Napoleon, that he +thought nothing but satisfying his passions and would not advance from +the Linen Factories because he was comfortable there, that at +Krasnoe he checked the advance because on learning that Napoleon was +there he had quite lost his head, and that it was probable that he had +an understanding with Napoleon and had been bribed by him, and so +on, and so on. + +Not only did his contempories, carried away by their passions, +talk in this way, but posterity and history have acclaimed Napoleon as +grand, while Kutuzov is described by foreigners as a crafty, +dissolute, weak old courtier, and by Russians as something indefinite- +a sort of puppet useful only because he had a Russian name. + +CHAPTER V + +In 1812 and 1813 Kutuzov was openly accused of blundering. The +Emperor was dissatisfied with him. And in a history recently written +by order of the Highest Authorities it is said that Kutuzov was a +cunning court liar, frightened of the name of Napoleon, and that by +his blunders at Krasnoe and the Berezina he deprived the Russian +army of the glory of complete victory over the French.~^ + +^~ History of the year 1812. The character of Kutuzov and +reflections on the unsatisfactory results of the battles at Krasnoe, +by Bogdanovich. + +Such is the fate not of great men (grands hommes) whom the Russian +mind does not acknowledge, but of those rare and always solitary +individuals who, discerning the will of Providence, submit their +personal will to it. The hatred and contempt of the crowd punish +such men for discerning the higher laws. + +For Russian historians, strange and terrible to say, Napoleon- +that most insignificant tool of history who never anywhere, even in +exile, showed human dignity- Napoleon is the object of adulation and +enthusiasm; he is grand. But Kutuzov- the man who from the beginning +to the end of his activity in 1812, never once swerving by word or +deed from Borodino to Vilna, presented an example exceptional in +history of self-sacrifice and a present conciousness of the future +importance of what was happening- Kutuzov seems to them something +indefinite and pitiful, and when speaking of him and of the year +1812 they always seem a little ashamed. + +And yet it is difficult to imagine an historical character whose +activity was so unswervingly directed to a single aim; and it would be +difficult to imagine any aim more worthy or more consonant with the +will of the whole people. Still more difficult would it be to find +an instance in history of the aim of an historical personage being +so completely accomplished as that to which all Kutuzov's efforts were +directed in 1812. + +Kutuzov never talked of "forty centuries looking down from the +Pyramids," of the sacrifices he offered for the fatherland, or of what +he intended to accomplish or had accomplished; in general he said +nothing about himself, adopted no prose, always appeared to be the +simplest and most ordinary of men, and said the simplest and most +ordinary things. He wrote letters to his daughters and to Madame de +Stael, read novels, liked the society of pretty women, jested with +generals, officers, and soldiers, and never contradicted those who +tried to prove anything to him. When Count Rostopchin at the Yauza +bridge galloped up to Kutuzov with personal reproaches for having +caused the destruction of Moscow, and said: "How was it you promised +not to abandon Moscow without a battle?" Kutuzov replied: "And I shall +not abandon Moscow without a battle," though Moscow was then already +abandoned. When Arakcheev, coming to him from the Emperor, said that +Ermolov ought to be appointed chief of the artillery, Kutuzov replied: +"Yes, I was just saying so myself," though a moment before he had said +quite the contrary. What did it matter to him- who then alone amid a +senseless crowd understood the whole tremendous significance of what +was happening- what did it matter to him whether Rostopchin attributed +the calamities of Moscow to him or to himself? Still less could it +matter to him who was appointed chief of the artillery. + +Not merely in these cases but continually did that old man- who by +experience of life had reached the conviction that thoughts and the +words serving as their expression are not what move people- use +quite meaningless words that happened to enter his head. + +But that man, so heedless of his words, did not once during the +whole time of his activity utter one word inconsistent with the single +aim toward which he moved throughout the whole war. Obviously in spite +of himself, in very diverse circumstances, he repeatedly expressed his +real thoughts with the bitter conviction that he would not be +understood. Beginning with the battle of Borodino, from which time his +disagreement with those about him began, he alone said that the battle +of Borodino was a victory, and repeated this both verbally and in +his dispatches and reports up to the time of his death. He alone +said that the loss of Moscow is not the loss of Russia. In reply to +Lauriston's proposal of peace, he said: There can be no peace, for +such is the people's will. He alone during the retreat of the French +said that all our maneuvers are useless, everything is being +accomplished of itself better than we could desire; that the enemy +must be offered "a golden bridge"; that neither the Tarutino, the +Vyazma, nor the Krasnoe battles were necessary; that we must keep some +force to reach the frontier with, and that he would not sacrifice a +single Russian for ten Frenchmen. + +And this courtier, as he is described to us, who lies to Arakcheev +to please the Emperor, he alone- incurring thereby the Emperor's +displeasure- said in Vilna that to carry the war beyond the frontier +is useless and harmful. + +Nor do words alone prove that only he understood the meaning of +the events. His actions- without the smallest deviation- were all +directed to one and the same threefold end: (1) to brace all his +strength for conflict with the French, (2) to defeat them, and (3) +to drive them out of Russia, minimizing as far as possible the +sufferings of our people and of our army. + +This procrastinator Kutuzov, whose motto was "Patience and Time," +this enemy of decisive action, gave battle at Borodino, investing +the preparations for it with unparalleled solemnity. This Kutuzov +who before the battle of Austerlitz began said that it would be +lost, he alone, in contradiction to everyone else, declared till his +death that Borodino was a victory, despite the assurance of generals +that the battle was lost and despite the fact that for an army to have +to retire after winning a battle was unprecedented. He alone during +the whole retreat insisted that battles, which were useless then, +should not be fought, and that a new war should not be begun nor the +frontiers of Russia crossed. + +It is easy now to understand the significance of these events- if +only we abstain from attributing to the activity of the mass aims that +existed only in the heads of a dozen individuals- for the events and +results now lie before us. + +But how did that old man, alone, in opposition to the general +opinion, so truly discern the importance of the people's view of the +events that in all his activity he was never once untrue to it? + +The source of that extraordinary power of penetrating the meaning of +the events then occuring lay in the national feeling which he +possessed in full purity and strength. + +Only the recognition of the fact that he possessed this feeling +caused the people in so strange a manner, contrary to the Tsar's wish, +to select him- an old man in disfavor- to be their representative in +the national war. And only that feeling placed him on that highest +human pedestal from which he, the commander in chief, devoted all +his powers not to slaying and destroying men but to saving and showing +pity on them. + +That simple, modest, and therefore truly great, figure could not +be cast in the false mold of a European hero- the supposed ruler of +men- that history has invented. + +To a lackey no man can be great, for a lackey has his own conception +of greatness. + +CHAPTER VI + +The fifth of November was the first day of what is called the battle +of Krasnoe. Toward evening- after much disputing and many mistakes +made by generals who did not go to their proper places, and after +adjutants had been sent about with counterorders- when it had become +plain that the enemy was everywhere in flight and that there could and +would be no battle, Kutuzov left Krasnoe and went to Dobroe whither +his headquarters had that day been transferred. + +The day was clear and frosty. Kutuzov rode to Dobroe on his plump +little white horse, followed by an enormous suite of discontented +generals who whispered among themselves behind his back. All along the +road groups of French prisoners captured that day (there were seven +thousand of them) were crowding to warm themselves at campfires. +Near Dobroe an immense crowd of tattered prisoners, buzzing with +talk and wrapped and bandaged in anything they had been able to get +hold of, were standing in the road beside a long row of unharnessed +French guns. At the approach of the commander in chief the buzz of +talk ceased and all eyes were fixed on Kutuzov who, wearing a white +cap with a red band and a padded overcoat that bulged on his round +shoulders, moved slowly along the road on his white horse. One of +the generals was reporting to him where the guns and prisoners had +been captured. + +Kutuzov seemed preoccupied and did not listen to what the general +was saying. He screwed up his eyes with a dissatisfied look as he +gazed attentively and fixedly at these prisoners, who presented a +specially wretched appearance. Most of them were disfigured by +frost-bitten noses and cheeks, and nearly all had red, swollen and +festering eyes. + +One group of the French stood close to the road, and two of them, +one of whom had his face covered with sores, were tearing a piece of +raw flesh with their hands. There was something horrible and bestial +in the fleeting glance they threw at the riders and in the +malevolent expression with which, after a glance at Kutuzov, the +soldier with the sores immediately turned away and went on with what +he was doing. + +Kutuzov looked long and intently at these two soldiers. He +puckered his face, screwed up his eyes, and pensively swayed his head. +At another spot he noticed a Russian soldier laughingly patting a +Frenchman on the shoulder, saying something to him in a friendly +manner, and Kutuzov with the same expression on his face again +swayed his head. + +"What were you saying?" he asked the general, who continuing his +report directed the commander in chief's attention to some standards +captured from the French and standing in front of the Preobrazhensk +regiment. + +"Ah, the standards!" said Kutuzov, evidently detaching himself +with difficulty from the thoughts that preoccupied him. + +He looked about him absently. Thousands of eyes were looking at +him from all sides awaiting a word from him. + +He stopped in front of the Preobrazhensk regiment, sighed deeply, +and closed his eyes. One of his suite beckoned to the soldiers +carrying the standards to advance and surround the commander in +chief with them. Kutuzov was silent for a few seconds and then, +submitting with evident reluctance to the duty imposed by his +position, raised his head and began to speak. A throng of officers +surrounded him. He looked attentively around at the circle of +officers, recognizing several of them. + +"I thank you all!" he said, addressing the soldiers and then again +the officers. In the stillness around him his slowly uttered words +were distinctly heard. "I thank you all for your hard and faithful +service. The victory is complete and Russia will not forget you! Honor +to you forever." + +He paused and looked around. + +"Lower its head, lower it!" he said to a soldier who had +accidentally lowered the French eagle he was holding before the +Preobrazhensk standards. "Lower, lower, that's it. Hurrah lads!" he +added, addressing the men with a rapid movement of his chin. + +"Hur-r-rah!" roared thousands of voices. + +While the soldiers were shouting Kutuzov leaned forward in his +saddle and bowed his head, and his eye lit up with a mild and +apparently ironic gleam. + +"You see, brothers..." said he when the shouts had ceased... and all +at once his voice and the expression of his face changed. It was no +longer the commander in chief speaking but an ordinary old man who +wanted to tell his comrades something very important. + +There was a stir among the throng of officers and in the ranks of +the soldiers, who moved that they might hear better what he was +going to say. + +"You see, brothers, I know it's hard for you, but it can't be +helped! Bear up; it won't be for long now! We'll see our visitors +off and then we'll rest. The Tsar won't forget your service. It is +hard for you, but still you are at home while they- you see what +they have come to," said he, pointing to the prisoners. "Worse off +than our poorest beggars. While they were strong we didn't spare +ourselves, but now we may even pity them. They are human beings too. +Isn't it so, lads?" + +He looked around, and in the direct, respectful, wondering gaze +fixed upon him he read sympathy with what he had said. His face grew +brighter and brighter with an old man's mild smile, which drew the +corners of his lips and eyes into a cluster of wrinkles. He ceased +speaking and bowed his head as if in perplexity. + +"But after all who asked them here? Serves them right, the bloody +bastards!" he cried, suddenly lifting his head. + +And flourishing his whip he rode off at a gallop for the first +time during the whole campaign, and left the broken ranks of the +soldiers laughing joyfully and shouting "Hurrah!" + +Kutuzov's words were hardly understood by the troops. No one could +have repeated the field marshal's address, begun solemnly and then +changing into an old man's simplehearted talk; but the hearty +sincerity of that speech, the feeling of majestic triumph combined +with pity for the foe and consciousness of the justice of our cause, +exactly expressed by that old man's good-natured expletives, was not +merely understood but lay in the soul of every soldier and found +expression in their joyous and long-sustained shouts. Afterwards +when one of the generals addressed Kutuzov asking whether he wished +his caleche to be sent for, Kutuzov in answering unexpectedly gave a +sob, being evidently greatly moved. + +CHAPTER VII + +When the troops reached their night's halting place on the eighth of +November, the last day of the Krasnoe battles, it was already +growing dusk. All day it had been calm and frosty with occasional +lightly falling snow and toward evening it began to clear. Through the +falling snow a purple-black and starry sky showed itself and the frost +grew keener. + +An infantry regiment which had left Tarutino three thousand strong +but now numbered only nine hundred was one of the first to arrive that +night at its halting place- a village on the highroad. The +quartermasters who met the regiment announced that all the huts were +full of sick and dead Frenchmen, cavalrymen, and members of the staff. +There was only one hut available for the regimental commander. + +The commander rode up to his hut. The regiment passed through the +village and stacked its arms in front of the last huts. + +Like some huge many-limbed animal, the regiment began to prepare its +lair and its food. One part of it dispersed and waded knee-deep +through the snow into a birch forest to the right of the village, +and immediately the sound of axes and swords, the crashing of +branches, and merry voices could be heard from there. Another +section amid the regimental wagons and horses which were standing in a +group was busy getting out caldrons and rye biscuit, and feeding the +horses. A third section scattered through the village arranging +quarters for the staff officers, carrying out the French corpses +that were in the huts, and dragging away boards, dry wood, and +thatch from the roofs, for the campfires, or wattle fences to serve +for shelter. + +Some fifteen men with merry shouts were shaking down the high wattle +wall of a shed, the roof of which had already been removed. + +"Now then, all together- shove!" cried the voices, and the huge +surface of the wall, sprinkled with snow and creaking with frost, +was seen swaying in the gloom of the night. The lower stakes cracked +more and more and at last the wall fell, and with it the men who had +been pushing it. Loud, coarse laughter and joyous shouts ensued. + +"Now then, catch hold in twos! Hand up the lever! That's it... Where +are you shoving to?" + +"Now, all together! But wait a moment, boys... With a song!" + +All stood silent, and a soft, pleasant velvety voice began to +sing. At the end of the third verse as the last note died away, twenty +voices roared out at once: "Oo-oo-oo-oo! That's it. All together! +Heave away, boys!..." but despite their united efforts the wattle +hardly moved, and in the silence that followed the heavy breathing +of the men was audible. + +"Here, you of the Sixth Company! Devils that you are! Lend a hand... +will you? You may want us one of these days." + +Some twenty men of the Sixth Company who were on their way into +the village joined the haulers, and the wattle wall, which was about +thirty-five feet long an seven feet high, moved forward along the +village street, swaying, pressing upon and cutting the shoulders of +the gasping men. + +"Get along... Falling? What are you stopping for? There now..." + +Merry senseless words of abuse flowed freely. + +"What are you up to?" suddenly came the authoritative voice of a +sergeant major who came upon the men who were hauling their burden. +"There are gentry here; the general himself is in that hut, and you +foul-mouthed devils, you brutes, I'll give it to you!" shouted he, +hitting the first man who came in his way a swinging blow on the back. +"Can't you make less noise?" + +The men became silent. The soldier who had been struck groaned and +wiped his face, which had been scratched till it bled by his falling +against the wattle. + +"There, how that devil hits out! He's made my face all bloody," said +he in a frightened whisper when the sergeant major had passed on. + +"Don't you like it?" said a laughing voice, and moderating their +tones the men moved forward. + +When they were out of the village they began talking again as loud +as before, interlarding their talk with the same aimless expletives. + +In the hut which the men had passed, the chief officers had gathered +and were in animated talk over their tea about the events of the day +and the maneuvers suggested for tomorrow. It was proposed to make a +flank march to the left, cut off the Vice-King (Murat) and capture +him. + +By the time the soldiers had dragged the wattle fence to its place +the campfires were blazing on all sides ready for cooking, the wood +crackled, the snow was melting, and black shadows of soldiers +flitted to and fro all over the occupied space where the snow had been +trodden down. + +Axes and choppers were plied all around. Everything was done without +any orders being given. Stores of wood were brought for the night, +shelters were rigged up for the officers, caldrons were being +boiled, and muskets and accouterments put in order. + +The wattle wall the men had brought was set up in a semicircle by +the Eighth Company as a shelter from the north, propped up by musket +rests, and a campfire was built before it. They beat the tattoo, +called the roll, had supper, and settled down round the fires for +the night- some repairing their footgear, some smoking pipes, and some +stripping themselves naked to steam the lice out of their shirts. + +CHAPTER VIII + +One would have thought that under the almost incredibly wretched +conditions the Russian soldiers were in at that time- lacking warm +boots and sheepskin coats, without a roof over their heads, in the +snow with eighteen degrees of frost, and without even full rations +(the commissariat did not always keep up with the troops)- they +would have presented a very sad and depressing spectacle. + +On the contrary, the army had never under the best material +conditions presented a more cheerful and animated aspect. This was +because all who began to grow depressed or who lost strength were +sifted out of the army day by day. All the physically or morally +weak had long since been left behind and only the flower of the +army- physically and mentally- remained. + +More men collected behind the wattle fence of the Eighth Company +than anywhere else. Two sergeants major were sitting with them and +their campfire blazed brighter than others. For leave to sit by +their wattle they demanded contributions of fuel. + +"Eh, Makeev! What has become of you, you son of a bitch? Are you +lost or have the wolves eaten you? Fetch some more wood!" shouted a +red-haired and red-faced man, screwing up his eyes and blinking +because of the smoke but not moving back from the fire. "And you, +Jackdaw, go and fetch some wood!" said he to another soldier. + +This red-haired man was neither a sergeant nor a corporal, but being +robust he ordered about those weaker than himself. The soldier they +called "Jackdaw," a thin little fellow with a sharp nose, rose +obediently and was about to go but at that instant there came into the +light of the fire the slender, handsome figure of a young soldier +carrying a load of wood. + +"Bring it here- that's fine!" + +They split up the wood, pressed it down on the fire, blew at it with +their mouths, and fanned it with the skirts of their greatcoats, +making the flames hiss and crackle. The men drew nearer and lit +their pipes. The handsome young soldier who had brought the wood, +setting his arms akimbo, began stamping his cold feet rapidly and +deftly on the spot where he stood. + +"Mother! The dew is cold but clear.... It's well that I'm a +musketeer..." he sang, pretending to hiccough after each syllable. + +"Look out, your soles will fly off!" shouted the red-haired man, +noticing that the sole of the dancer's boot was hanging loose. "What a +fellow you are for dancing!" + +The dancer stopped, pulled off the loose piece of leather, and threw +it on the fire. + +"Right enough, friend," said he, and, having sat down, took out of +his knapsack a scrap of blue French cloth, and wrapped it round his +foot. "It's the steam that spoils them," he added, stretching out +his feet toward the fire. + +"They'll soon be issuing us new ones. They say that when we've +finished hammering them, we're to receive double kits!" + +"And that son of a bitch Petrov has lagged behind after all, it +seems," said one sergeant major. + +"I've had an eye on him this long while," said the other. + +"Well, he's a poor sort of soldier..." + +"But in the Third Company they say nine men were missing yesterday." + +"Yes, it's all very well, but when a man's feet are frozen how can +he walk?" + +"Eh? Don't talk nonsense!" said a sergeant major. + +"Do you want to be doing the same?" said an old soldier, turning +reproachfully to the man who had spoken of frozen feet. + +"Well, you know," said the sharp-nosed man they called Jackdaw in +a squeaky and unsteady voice, raising himself at the other side of the +fire, "a plump man gets thin, but for a thin one it's death. Take +me, now! I've got no strength left," he added, with sudden +resolution turning to the sergeant major. "Tell them to send me to +hospital; I'm aching all over; anyway I shan't be able to keep up." + +"That'll do, that'll do!" replied the sergeant major quietly. + +The soldier said no more and the talk went on. + +"What a lot of those Frenchies were taken today, and the fact is +that not one of them had what you might call real boots on," said a +soldier, starting a new theme. "They were no more than make-believes." + +"The Cossacks have taken their boots. They were clearing the hut for +the colonel and carried them out. It was pitiful to see them, boys," +put in the dancer. "As they turned them over one seemed still alive +and, would you believe it, he jabbered something in their lingo." + +"But they're a clean folk, lads," the first man went on; "he was +white- as white as birchbark- and some of them are such fine +fellows, you might think they were nobles." + +"Well, what do you think? They make soldiers of all classes there." + +"But they don't understand our talk at all," said the dancer with +a puzzled smile. "I asked him whose subject he was, and he jabbered in +his own way. A queer lot!" + +"But it's strange, friends," continued the man who had wondered at +their whiteness, "the peasants at Mozhaysk were saying that when +they began burying the dead- where the battle was you know- well, +those dead had been lying there for nearly a month, and says the +peasant, 'they lie as white as paper, clean, and not as much smell +as a puff of powder smoke.'" + +"Was it from the cold?" asked someone. + +"You're a clever fellow! From the cold indeed! Why, it was hot. If +it had been from the cold, ours would not have rotted either. 'But,' +he says, 'go up to ours and they are all rotten and maggoty. So,' he +says, 'we tie our faces up with kerchiefs and turn our heads away as +we drag them off: we can hardly do it. But theirs,' he says, 'are +white as paper and not so much smell as a whiff of gunpowder.'" + +All were silent. + +"It must be from their food," said the sergeant major. "They used to +gobble the same food as the gentry." + +No one contradicted him. + +"That peasant near Mozhaysk where the battle was said the men were +all called up from ten villages around and they carted for twenty days +and still didn't finish carting the dead away. And as for the +wolves, he says..." + +"That was a real battle," said an old soldier. "It's the only one +worth remembering; but since that... it's only been tormenting folk." + +"And do you know, Daddy, the day before yesterday we ran at them +and, my word, they didn't let us get near before they just threw +down their muskets and went on their knees. 'Pardon!' they say. That's +only one case. They say Platov took 'Poleon himself twice. But he +didn't know the right charm. He catches him and catches him- no +good! He turns into a bird in his hands and flies away. And there's no +way of killing him either." + +"You're a first-class liar, Kiselev, when I come to look at you!" + +"Liar, indeed! It's the real truth." + +"If he fell into my hands, when I'd caught him I'd bury him in the +ground with an aspen stake to fix him down. What a lot of men he's +ruined!" + +"Well, anyhow we're going to end it. He won't come here again," +remarked the old soldier, yawning. + +The conversation flagged, and the soldiers began settling down to +sleep. + +"Look at the stars. It's wonderful how they shine! You would think +the women had spread out their linen," said one of the men, gazing +with admiration at the Milky Way. + +"That's a sign of a good harvest next year." + +"We shall want some more wood." + +"You warm your back and your belly gets frozen. That's queer." + +"O Lord!" + +"What are you pushing for? Is the fire only for you? Look how he's +sprawling!" + +In the silence that ensued, the snoring of those who had fallen +asleep could be heard. Others turned over and warmed themselves, now +and again exchanging a few words. From a campfire a hundred paces +off came a sound of general, merry laughter. + +"Hark at them roaring there in the Fifth Company!" said one of the +soldiers, and what a lot of them there are!" + +One of the men got up and went over to the Fifth Company. + +"They're having such fun," said he, coming back. "Two Frenchies have +turned up. One's quite frozen and the other's an awful swaggerer. He's +singing songs...." + +"Oh, I'll go across and have a look...." + +And several of the men went over to the Fifth Company. + +CHAPTER IX + +The fifth company was bivouacking at the very edge of the forest. +A huge campfire was blazing brightly in the midst of the snow, +lighting up the branches of trees heavy with hoarfrost. + +About midnight they heard the sound of steps in the snow of the +forest, and the crackling of dry branches. + +"A bear, lads," said one of the men. + +They all raised their heads to listen, and out of the forest into +the bright firelight stepped two strangely clad human figures clinging +to one another. + +These were two Frenchmen who had been hiding in the forest. They +came up to the fire, hoarsely uttering something in a language our +soldiers did not understand. One was taller than the other; he wore an +officer's hat and seemed quite exhausted. On approaching the fire he +had been going to sit down, but fell. The other, a short sturdy +soldier with a shawl tied round his head, was stronger. He raised +his companion and said something, pointing to his mouth. The +soldiers surrounded the Frenchmen, spread a greatcoat on the ground +for the sick man, and brought some buckwheat porridge and vodka for +both of them. + +The exhausted French officer was Ramballe and the man with his +head wrapped in the shawl was Morel, his orderly. + +When Morel had drunk some vodka and finished his bowl of porridge he +suddenly became unnaturally merry and chattered incessantly to the +soldiers, who could not understand him. Ramballe refused food and +resting his head on his elbow lay silent beside the campfire, +looking at the Russian soldiers with red and vacant eyes. Occasionally +he emitted a long-drawn groan and then again became silent. Morel, +pointing to his shoulders, tried to impress on the soldiers the fact +that Ramballe was an officer and ought to be warmed. A Russian officer +who had come up to the fire sent to ask his colonel whether he would +not take a French officer into his hut to warm him, and when the +messenger returned and said that the colonel wished the officer to +be brought to him, Ramballe was told to go. He rose and tried to walk, +but staggered and would have fallen had not a soldier standing by held +him up. + +"You won't do it again, eh?" said one of the soldiers, winking and +turning mockingly to Ramballe. + +"Oh, you fool! Why talk rubbish, lout that you are- a real peasant!" +came rebukes from all sides addressed to the jesting soldier. + +They surrounded Ramballe, lifted him on the crossed arms of two +soldiers, and carried him to the hut. Ramballe put his arms around +their necks while they carried him and began wailing plaintively: + +"Oh, you fine fellows, my kind, kind friends! These are men! Oh, +my brave, kind friends," and he leaned his head against the shoulder +of one of the men like a child. + +Meanwhile Morel was sitting in the best place by the fire, +surrounded by the soldiers. + +Morel, a short sturdy Frenchman with inflamed and streaming eyes, +was wearing a woman's cloak and had a shawl tied woman fashion round +his head over his cap. He was evidently tipsy, and was singing a +French song in a hoarse broken voice, with an arm thrown round the +nearest soldier. The soldiers simply held their sides as they +watched him. + +"Now then, now then, teach us how it goes! I'll soon pick it up. How +is it?" said the man- a singer and a wag- whom Morel was embracing. + +"Vive Henri Quatre! Vive ce roi valiant!" sang Morel, winking. "Ce +diable a quatre..."~^ + +^~ "Long live Henry the Fourth, that valiant king! That rowdy devil." + +"Vivarika! Vif-seruvaru! Sedyablyaka!" repeated the soldier, +flourishing his arm and really catching the tune. + +"Bravo! Ha, ha, ha!" rose their rough, joyous laughter from all +sides. + +Morel, wrinkling up his face, laughed too. + +"Well, go on, go on!" + +_1 "Qui eut le triple talent,<br> +De boire, de battre,<br> +Et d'etre un vert galant."~^ + +^~ Who had a triple talent + +_1 For drinking, for fighting, + +_1 And for being a gallant old boy... + +"It goes smoothly, too. Well, now, Zaletaev!" + +"Ke..." Zaletaev, brought out with effort: "ke-e-e-e," he drawled, +laboriously pursing his lips, "le-trip-ta-la-de-bu-de-ba, e +de-tra-va-ga-la " he sang. + +"Fine! Just like the Frenchie! Oh, ho ho! Do you want some more to +eat?" + +"Give him some porridge: it takes a long time to get filled up after +starving." + +They gave him some more porridge and Morel with a laugh set to +work on his third bowl. All the young soldiers smiled gaily as they +watched him. The older men, who thought it undignified to amuse +themselves with such nonsense, continued to lie at the opposite side +of the fire, but one would occasionally raise himself on an elbow +and glance at Morel with a smile. + +"They are men too," said one of them as he wrapped himself up in his +coat. "Even wormwood grows on its own root." + +"O Lord, O Lord! How starry it is! Tremendous! That means a hard +frost...." + +They all grew silent. The stars, as if knowing that no one was +looking at them, began to disport themselves in the dark sky: now +flaring up, now vanishing, now trembling, they were busy whispering +something gladsome and mysterious to one another. + +CHAPTER X + +The French army melted away at the uniform rate of a mathematical +progression; and that crossing of the Berezina about which so much has +been written was only one intermediate stage in its destruction, and +not at all the decisive episode of the campaign. If so much has been +and still is written about the Berezina, on the French side this is +only because at the broken bridge across that river the calamities +their army had been previously enduring were suddenly concentrated +at one moment into a tragic spectacle that remained in every memory, +and on the Russian side merely because in Petersburg- far from the +seat of war- a plan (again one of Pfuel's) had been devised to catch +Napoleon in a strategic trap at the Berezina River. Everyone assured +himself that all would happen according to plan, and therefore +insisted that it was just the crossing of the Berezina that +destroyed the French army. In reality the results of the crossing were +much less disastrous to the French- in guns and men lost- than Krasnoe +had been, as the figures show. + +The sole importance of the crossing of the Berezina lies in the fact +that it plainly and indubitably proved the fallacy of all the plans +for cutting off the enemy's retreat and the soundness of the only +possible line of action- the one Kutuzov and the general mass of the +army demanded- namely, simply to follow the enemy up. The French crowd +fled at a continually increasing speed and all its energy was directed +to reaching its goal. It fled like a wounded animal and it was +impossible to block its path. This was shown not so much by the +arrangements it made for crossing as by what took place at the +bridges. When the bridges broke down, unarmed soldiers, people from +Moscow and women with children who were with the French transport, +all- carried on by vis inertiae- pressed forward into boats and into +the ice-covered water and did not, surrender. + +That impulse was reasonable. The condition of fugitives and of +pursuers was equally bad. As long as they remained with their own +people each might hope for help from his fellows and the definite +place he held among them. But those who surrendered, while remaining +in the same pitiful plight, would be on a lower level to claim a share +in the necessities of life. The French did not need to be informed +of the fact that half the prisoners- with whom the Russians did not +know what to do- perished of cold and hunger despite their captors' +desire to save them; they felt that it could not be otherwise. The +most compassionate Russian commanders, those favorable to the +French- and even the Frenchmen in the Russian service- could do +nothing for the prisoners. The French perished from the conditions +to which the Russian army was itself exposed. It was impossible to +take bread and clothes from our hungry and indispensable soldiers to +give to the French who, though not harmful, or hated, or guilty, +were simply unnecessary. Some Russians even did that, but they were +exceptions. + +Certain destruction lay behind the French but in front there was +hope. Their ships had been burned, there was no salvation save in +collective flight, and on that the whole strength of the French was +concentrated. + +The farther they fled the more wretched became the plight of the +remnant, especially after the Berezina, on which (in consequence of +the Petersburg plan) special hopes had been placed by the Russians, +and the keener grew the passions of the Russian commanders, blamed one +another and Kutuzov most of all. Anticipation that the failure of +the Petersburg Berezina plan would be attributed to Kutuzov led to +dissatisfaction, contempt, and ridicule, more and more strongly +expressed. The ridicule and contempt were of course expressed in a +respectful form, making it impossible for him to ask wherein he was to +blame. They did not talk seriously to him; when reporting to him or +asking for his sanction they appeared to be fulfilling a regrettable +formality, but they winked behind his back and tried to mislead him at +every turn. + +Because they could not understand him all these people assumed +that it was useless to talk to the old man; that he would never +grasp the profundity of their plans, that he would answer with his +phrases (which they thought were mere phrases) about a "golden +bridge," about the impossibility of crossing the frontier with a crowd +of tatterdemalions, and so forth. They had heard all that before. +And all he said- that it was necessary to await provisions, or that +the men had no boots- was so simple, while what they proposed was so +complicated and clever, that it was evident that he was old and stupid +and that they, though not in power, were commanders of genius. + +After the junction with the army of the brilliant admiral and +Petersburg hero Wittgenstein, this mood and the gossip of the staff +reached their maximum. Kutuzov saw this and merely sighed and shrugged +his shoulders. Only once, after the affair of the Berezina, did he get +angry and write to Bennigsen (who reported separately to the +Emperor) the following letter: + +"On account of your spells of ill health, will your excellency +please be so good as to set off for Kaluga on receipt of this, and +there await further commands and appointments from His Imperial +Majesty." + +But after Bennigsen's departure, the Grand Duke Tsarevich +Constantine Pavlovich joined the army. He had taken part in the +beginning of the campaign but had subsequently been removed from the +army by Kutuzov. Now having come to the army, he informed Kutuzov of +the Emperor's displeasure at the poor success of our forces and the +slowness of their advance. The Emperor intended to join the army +personally in a few days' time. + +The old man, experienced in court as well as in military affairs- +this same Kutuzov who in August had been chosen commander in chief +against the sovereign's wishes and who had removed the Grand Duke +and heir- apparent from the army- who on his own authority and +contrary to the Emperor's will had decided on the abandonment of +Moscow, now realized at once that his day was over, that his part +was played, and that the power he was supposed to hold was no longer +his. And he understood this not merely from the attitude of the court. +He saw on the one hand that the military business in which he had +played his part was ended and felt that his mission was +accomplished; and at the same time he began to be conscious of the +physical weariness of his aged body and of the necessity of physical +rest. + +On the twenty-ninth of November Kutuzov entered Vilna- his "dear +Vilna" as he called it. Twice during his career Kutuzov had been +governor of Vilna. In that wealthy town, which had not been injured, +he found old friends and associations, besides the comforts of life of +which he had so long been deprived. And he suddenly turned from the +cares of army and state and, as far as the passions that seethed +around him allowed, immersed himself in the quiet life to which he had +formerly been accustomed, as if all that was taking place and all that +had still to be done in the realm of history did not concern him at +all. + +Chichagov, one of the most zealous "cutters-off" and +"breakers-up," who had first wanted to effect a diversion in Greece +and then in Warsaw but never wished to go where he was sent: +Chichagov, noted for the boldness with which he spoke to the +Emperor, and who considered Kutuzov to be under an obligation to him +because when he was sent to make peace with Turkey in 1811 +independently of Kutuzov, and found that peace had already been +concluded, he admitted to the Emperor that the merit of securing +that peace was really Kutuzov's; this Chichagov was the first to +meet Kutuzov at the castle where the latter was to stay. In undress +naval uniform, with a dirk, and holding his cap under his arm, he +handed Kutuzov a garrison report and the keys of the town. The +contemptuously respectful attitude of the younger men to the old man +in his dotage was expressed in the highest degree by the behavior of +Chichagov, who knew of the accusations that were being directed +against Kutuzov. + +When speaking to Chichagov, Kutuzov incidentally mentioned that +the vehicles packed with china that had been captured from him at +Borisov had been recovered and would be restored to him. + +"You mean to imply that I have nothing to eat out of.... On the +contrary, I can supply you with everything even if you want to give +dinner parties," warmly replied Chichagov, who tried by every word +he spoke to prove his own rectitude and therefore imagined Kutuzov +to be animated by the same desire. + +Kutuzov, shrugging his shoulders, replied with his subtle +penetrating smile: "I meant merely to say what I said." + +Contrary to the Emperor's wish Kutuzov detained the greater part +of the army at Vilna. Those about him said that he became +extraordinarily slack and physically feeble during his stay in that +town. He attended to army affairs reluctantly, left everything to +his generals, and while awaiting the Emperor's arrival led a +dissipated life. + +Having left Petersburg on the seventh of December with his suite- +Count Tolstoy, Prince Volkonski, Arakcheev, and others- the Emperor +reached Vilna on the eleventh, and in his traveling sleigh drove +straight to the castle. In spite of the severe frost some hundred +generals and staff officers in full parade uniform stood in front of +the castle, as well as a guard of honor of the Semenov regiment. + +A courier who galloped to the castle in advance, in a troyka with +three foam-flecked horses, shouted "Coming!" and Konovnitsyn rushed +into the vestibule to inform Kutuzov, who was waiting in the hall +porter's little lodge. + +A minute later the old man's large stout figure in full-dress +uniform, his chest covered with orders and a scarf drawn round his +stomach, waddled out into the porch. He put on his hat with its +peaks to the sides and, holding his gloves in his hand and walking +with an effort sideways down the steps to the level of the street, +took in his hand the report he had prepared for the Emperor. + +There was running to and fro and whispering; another troyka +furiously up, and then all eyes were turned on an approaching sleigh +in which the figures of the Emperor and Volkonski could already be +descried. + +From the habit of fifty years all this had a physically agitating +effect on the old general. He carefully and hastily felt himself all +over, readjusted his hat, and pulling himself together drew himself up +and, at the very moment when the Emperor, having alighted from the +sleigh, lifted his eyes to him, handed him the report and began +speaking in his smooth, ingratiating voice. + +The Emperor with a rapid glance scanned Kutuzov from head to foot, +frowned for an instant, but immediately mastering himself went up to +the old man, extended his arms and embraced him. And this embrace too, +owing to a long-standing impression related to his innermost feelings, +had its usual effect on Kutuzov and he gave a sob. + +The Emperor greeted the officers and the Semenov guard, and again +pressing the old man's hand went with him into the castle. + +When alone with the field marshal the Emperor expressed his +dissatisfaction at the slowness of the pursuit and at the mistakes +made at Krasnoe and the Berezina, and informed him of his intentions +for a future campaign abroad. Kutuzov made no rejoinder or remark. The +same submissive, expressionless look with which he had listened to the +Emperor's commands on the field of Austerlitz seven years before +settled on his face now. + +When Kutuzov came out of the study and with lowered head was +crossing the ballroom with his heavy waddling gait, he was arrested by +someone's voice saying: + +"Your Serene Highness!" + +Kutuzov raised his head and looked for a long while into the eyes of +Count Tolstoy, who stood before him holding a silver salver on which +lay a small object. Kutuzov seemed not to understand what was expected +of him. + +Suddenly he seemed to remember; a scarcely perceptible smile flashed +across his puffy face, and bowing low and respectfully he took the +object that lay on the salver. It was the Order of St. George of the +First Class. + +CHAPTER XI + +Next day the field marshal gave a dinner and ball which the +Emperor honored by his presence. Kutuzov had received the Order of St. +George of the First Class and the Emperor showed him the highest +honors, but everyone knew of the imperial dissatisfaction with him. +The proprieties were observed and the Emperor was the first to set +that example, but everybody understood that the old man was +blameworthy and good-for-nothing. When Kutuzov, conforming to a custom +of Catherine's day, ordered the standards that had been captured to be +lowered at the Emperor's feet on his entering the ballroom, the +Emperor made a wry face and muttered something in which some people +caught the words, "the old comedian." + +The Emperor's displeasure with Kutuzov was specially increased at +Vilna by the fact that Kutuzov evidently could not or would not +understand the importance of the coming campaign. + +When on the following morning the Emperor said to the officers +assembled about him: "You have not only saved Russia, you have saved +Europe!" they all understood that the war was not ended. + +Kutuzov alone would not see this and openly expressed his opinion +that no fresh war could improve the position or add to the glory of +Russia, but could only spoil and lower the glorious position that +Russia had gained. He tried to prove to the Emperor the +impossibility of levying fresh troops, spoke of the hardships +already endured by the people, of the possibility of failure and so +forth. + +This being the field marshal's frame of mind he was naturally +regarded as merely a hindrance and obstacle to the impending war. + +To avoid unpleasant encounters with the old man, the natural +method was to do what had been done with him at Austerlitz and with +Barclay at the beginning of the Russian campaign- to transfer the +authority to the Emperor himself, thus cutting the ground from under +the commander in chief's feet without upsetting the old man by +informing him of the change. + +With this object his staff was gradually reconstructed and its +real strength removed and transferred to the Emperor. Toll, +Konovnitsyn, and Ermolov received fresh appointments. Everyone spoke +loudly of the field marshal's great weakness and failing health. + +His health had to be bad for his place to be taken away and given to +another. And in fact his health was poor. + +So naturally, simply, and gradually- just as he had come from Turkey +to the Treasury in Petersburg to recruit the militia, and then to +the army when he was needed there- now when his part was played out, +Kutuzov's place was taken by a new and necessary performer. + +The war 1812, besides its national significance dear to every +Russian heart, was now to assume another, a European, significance. + +The movement of peoples from west to east was to be succeeded by a +movement of peoples from east to west, and for this fresh war +another leader was necessary, having qualities and views differing +from Kutuzov's and animated by different motives. + +Alexander I was as necessary for the movement of the peoples from +east to west and for the refixing of national frontiers as Kutuzov had +been for the salvation and glory of Russia. + +Kutuzov did not understand what Europe, the balance of power, or +Napoleon meant. He could not understand it. For the representative +of the Russian people, after the enemy had been destroyed and Russia +had been liberated and raised to the summit of her glory, there was +nothing left to do as a Russian. Nothing remained for the +representative of the national war but to die, and Kutuzov died. + +CHAPTER XII + +As generally happens, Pierre did not feel the full effects of the +physical privation and strain he had suffered as prisoner until +after they were over. After his liberation he reached Orel, and on the +third day there, when preparing to go to Kiev, he fell ill and was +laid up for three months. He had what the doctors termed "bilious +fever." But despite the fact that the doctors treated him, bled him, +and gave him medicines to drink, he recovered. + +Scarcely any impression was left on Pierre's mind by all that +happened to him from the time of his rescue till his illness. He +remembered only the dull gray weather now rainy and now snowy, +internal physical distress, and pains in his feet and side. He +remembered a general impression of the misfortunes and sufferings of +people and of being worried by the curiosity of officers and +generals who questioned him, he also remembered his difficulty in +procuring a conveyance and horses, and above all he remembered his +incapacity to think and feel all that time. On the day of his rescue +he had seen the body of Petya Rostov. That same day he had learned +that Prince Andrew, after surviving the battle of Borodino for more +than a month had recently died in the Rostovs' house at Yaroslavl, and +Denisov who told him this news also mentioned Helene's death, +supposing that Pierre had heard of it long before. All this at the +time seemed merely strange to Pierre: he felt he could not grasp its +significance. Just then he was only anxious to get away as quickly +as possible from places where people were killing one another, to some +peaceful refuge where he could recover himself, rest, and think over +all the strange new facts he had learned; but on reaching Orel he +immediately fell ill. When he came to himself after his illness he saw +in attendance on him two of his servants, Terenty and Vaska, who had +come from Moscow; and also his cousin the eldest princess, who had +been living on his estate at Elets and hearing of his rescue and +illness had come to look after him. + +It was only gradually during his convalescence that Pierre lost +the impressions he had become accustomed to during the last few months +and got used to the idea that no one would oblige him to go anywhere +tomorrow, that no one would deprive him of his warm bed, and that he +would be sure to get his dinner, tea, and supper. But for a long +time in his dreams he still saw himself in the conditions of +captivity. In the same way little by little he came to understand +the news he had been told after his rescue, about the death of +Prince Andrew, the death of his wife, and the destruction of the +French. + +A joyous feeling of freedom- that complete inalienable freedom +natural to man which he had first experienced at the first halt +outside Moscow- filled Pierre's soul during his convalescence. He +was surprised to find that this inner freedom, which was independent +of external conditions, now had as it were an additional setting of +external liberty. He was alone in a strange town, without +acquaintances. No one demanded anything of him or sent him anywhere. +He had all he wanted: the thought of his wife which had been a +continual torment to him was no longer there, since she was no more. + +"Oh, how good! How splendid!" said he to himself when a cleanly laid +table was moved up to him with savory beef tea, or when he lay down +for the night on a soft clean bed, or when he remembered that the +French had gone and that his wife was no more. "Oh, how good, how +splendid!" + +And by old habit he asked himself the question: "Well, and what +then? What am I going to do?" And he immediately gave himself the +answer: "Well, I shall live. Ah, how splendid!" + +The very question that had formerly tormented him, the thing he +had continually sought to find- the aim of life- no longer existed for +him now. That search for the aim of life had not merely disappeared +temporarily- he felt that it no longer existed for him and could not +present itself again. And this very absence of an aim gave him the +complete, joyous sense of freedom which constituted his happiness at +this time. + +He could not see an aim, for he now had faith- not faith in any kind +of rule, or words, or ideas, but faith in an ever-living, +ever-manifest God. Formerly he had sought Him in aims he set +himself. That search for an aim had been simply a search for God, +and suddenly in his captivity he had learned not by words or reasoning +but by direct feeling what his nurse had told him long ago: that God +is here and everywhere. In his captivity he had learned that in +Karataev God was greater, more infinite and unfathomable than in the +Architect of the Universe recognized by the Freemasons. He felt like a +man who after straining his eyes to see into the far distance finds +what he sought at his very feet. All his life he had looked over the +heads of the men around him, when he should have merely looked in +front of him without straining his eyes. + +In the past he had never been able to find that great inscrutable +infinite something. He had only felt that it must exist somewhere +and had looked for it. In everything near and comprehensible he had +only what was limited, petty, commonplace, and senseless. He had +equipped himself with a mental telescope and looked into remote space, +where petty worldliness hiding itself in misty distance had seemed +to him great and infinite merely because it was not clearly seen. +And such had European life, politics, Freemasonry, philosophy, and +philanthropy seemed to him. But even then, at moments of weakness as +he had accounted them, his mind had penetrated to those distances +and he had there seen the same pettiness, worldliness, and +senselessness. Now, however, he had learned to see the great, eternal, +and infinite in everything, and therefore- to see it and enjoy its +contemplation- he naturally threw away the telescope through which +he had till now gazed over men's heads, and gladly regarded the +ever-changing, eternally great, unfathomable, and infinite life around +him. And the closer he looked the more tranquil and happy he became. +That dreadful question, "What for?" which had formerly destroyed all +his mental edifices, no longer existed for him. To that question, +"What for?" a simple answer was now always ready in his soul: "Because +there is a God, that God without whose will not one hair falls from +a man's head." + +CHAPTER XIII + +In external ways Pierre had hardly changed at all. In appearance +he was just what he used to be. As before he was absent-minded and +seemed occupied not with what was before his eyes but with something +special of his own. The difference between his former and present self +was that formerly when he did not grasp what lay before him or was +said to him, he had puckered his forehead painfully as if vainly +seeking to distinguish something at a distance. At present he still +forgot what was said to him and still did not see what was before +his eyes, but he now looked with a scarcely perceptible and +seemingly ironic smile at what was before him and listened to what was +said, though evidently seeing and hearing something quite different. +Formerly he had appeared to be a kindhearted but unhappy man, and so +people had been inclined to avoid him. Now a smile at the joy of +life always played round his lips, and sympathy for others, shone in +his eyes with a questioning look as to whether they were as +contented as he was, and people felt pleased by his presence. + +Previously he had talked a great deal, grew excited when he +talked, and seldom listened; now he was seldom carried away in +conversation and knew how to listen so that people readily told him +their most intimate secrets. + +The princess, who had never liked Pierre and had been particularly +hostile to him since she had felt herself under obligations to him +after the old count's death, now after staying a short time in Orel- +where she had come intending to show Pierre that in spite of his +ingratitude she considered it her duty to nurse him- felt to her +surprise and vexation that she had become fond of him. Pierre did +not in any way seek her approval, he merely studied her with interest. +Formerly she had felt that he regarded her with indifference and +irony, and so had shrunk into herself as she did with others and had +shown him only the combative side of her nature; but now he seemed +to be trying to understand the most intimate places of her heart, and, +mistrustfully at first but afterwards gratefully, she let him see +the hidden, kindly sides of her character. + +The most cunning man could not have crept into her confidence more +successfully, evoking memories of the best times of her youth and +showing sympathy with them. Yet Pierre's cunning consisted simply in +finding pleasure in drawing out the human qualities of the embittered, +hard, and (in her own way) proud princess. + +"Yes, he is a very, very kind man when he is not under the influence +of bad people but of people such as myself," thought she. + +His servants too- Terenty and Vaska- in their own way noticed the +change that had taken place in Pierre. They considered that he had +become much "simpler." Terenty, when he had helped him undress and +wished him good night, often lingered with his master's boots in his +hands and clothes over his arm, to see whether he would not start a +talk. And Pierre, noticing that Terenty wanted a chat, generally +kept him there. + +"Well, tell me... now, how did you get food?" he would ask. + +And Terenty would begin talking of the destruction of Moscow, and of +the old count, and would stand for a long time holding the clothes and +talking, or sometimes listening to Pierre's stories, and then would go +out into the hall with a pleasant sense of intimacy with his master +and affection for him. + +The doctor who attended Pierre and visited him every day, though +he considered it his duty as a doctor to pose as a man whose every +moment was of value to suffering humanity, would sit for hours with +Pierre telling him his favorite anecdotes and his observations on +the characters of his patients in general, and especially of the +ladies. + +"It's a pleasure to talk to a man like that; he is not like our +provincials," he would say. + +There were several prisoners from the French army in Orel, and the +doctor brought one of them, a young Italian, to see Pierre. + +This officer began visiting Pierre, and the princess used to make +fun of the tenderness the Italian expressed for him. + +The Italian seemed happy only when he could come to see Pierre, talk +with him, tell him about his past, his life at home, and his love, and +pour out to him his indignation against the French and especially +against Napoleon. + +"If all Russians are in the least like you, it is sacrilege to fight +such a nation," he said to Pierre. "You, who have suffered so from the +French, do not even feel animosity toward them." + +Pierre had evoked the passionate affection of the Italian merely +by evoking the best side of his nature and taking a pleasure in so +doing. + +During the last days of Pierre's stay in Orel his old Masonic +acquaintance Count Willarski, who had introduced him to the lodge in +1807, came to see him. Willarski was married to a Russian heiress +who had a large estate in Orel province, and he occupied a temporary +post in the commissariat department in that town. + +Hearing that Bezukhov was in Orel, Willarski, though they had +never been intimate, came to him with the professions of friendship +and intimacy that people who meet in a desert generally express for +one another. Willarski felt dull in Orel and was pleased to meet a man +of his own circle and, as he supposed, of similar interests. + +But to his surprise Willarski soon noticed that Pierre had lagged +much behind the times, and had sunk, as he expressed it to himself, +into apathy and egotism. + +"You are letting yourself go, my dear fellow," he said. + +But for all that Willarski found it pleasanter now than it had +been formerly to be with Pierre, and came to see him every day. To +Pierre as he looked at and listened to Willarski, it seemed strange to +think that he had been like that himself but a short time before. + +Willarski was a married man with a family, busy with his family +affairs, his wife's affairs, and his official duties. He regarded +all these occupations as hindrances to life, and considered that +they were all contemptible because their aim was the welfare of +himself and his family. Military, administrative, political, and +Masonic interests continually absorbed his attention. And Pierre, +without trying to change the other's views and without condemning him, +but with the quiet, joyful, and amused smile now habitual to him, +was interested in this strange though very familiar phenomenon. + +There was a new feature in Pierre's relations with Willarski, with +the princess, with the doctor, and with all the people he now met, +which gained for him the general good will. This was his +acknowledgment of the impossibility of changing a man's convictions by +words, and his recognition of the possibility of everyone thinking, +feeling, and seeing things each from his own point of view. This +legitimate peculiarity of each individual which used to excite and +irritate Pierre now became a basis of the sympathy he felt for, and +the interest he took in, other people. The difference, and sometimes +complete contradiction, between men's opinions and their lives, and +between one man and another, pleased him and drew from him an amused +and gentle smile. + +In practical matters Pierre unexpectedly felt within himself a +center of gravity he had previously lacked. Formerly all pecuniary +questions, especially requests for money to which, as an extremely +wealthy man, he was very exposed, produced in him a state of +hopeless agitation and perplexity. "To give or not to give?" he had +asked himself. "I have it and he needs it. But someone else needs it +still more. Who needs it most? And perhaps they are both impostors?" +In the old days he had been unable to find a way out of all these +surmises and had given to all who asked as long as he had anything +to give. Formerly he had been in a similar state of perplexity with +regard to every question concerning his property, when one person +advised one thing and another something else. + +Now to his surprise he found that he no longer felt either doubt +or perplexity about these questions. There was now within him a +judge who by some rule unknown to him decided what should or should +not be done. + +He was as indifferent as heretofore to money matters, but now he +felt certain of what ought and what ought not to be done. The first +time he had recourse to his new judge was when a French prisoner, a +colonel, came to him and, after talking a great deal about his +exploits, concluded by making what amounted to a demand that Pierre +should give him four thousand francs to send to his wife and children. +Pierre refused without the least difficulty or effort, and was +afterwards surprised how simple and easy had been what used to +appear so insurmountably difficult. At the same time that he refused +the colonel's demand he made up his mind that he must have recourse to +artifice when leaving Orel, to induce the Italian officer to accept +some money of which he was evidently in need. A further proof to +Pierre of his own more settled outlook on practical matters was +furnished by his decision with regard to his wife's debts and to the +rebuilding of his houses in and near Moscow. + +His head steward came to him at Orel and Pierre reckoned up with him +his diminished income. The burning of Moscow had cost him, according +to the head steward's calculation, about two million rubles. + +To console Pierre for these losses the head steward gave him an +estimate showing that despite these losses his income would not be +diminished but would even be increased if he refused to pay his wife's +debts which he was under no obligation to meet, and did not rebuild +his Moscow house and the country house on his Moscow estate, which had +cost him eighty thousand rubles a year and brought in nothing. + +"Yes, of course that's true," said Pierre with a cheerful smile. +"I don't need all that at all. By being ruined I have become much +richer." + +But in January Savelich came from Moscow and gave him an account +of the state of things there, and spoke of the estimate an architect +had made of the cost of rebuilding the town and country houses, +speaking of this as of a settled matter. About the same time he +received letters from Prince Vasili and other Petersburg acquaintances +speaking of his wife's debts. And Pierre decided that the steward's +proposals which had so pleased him were wrong and that he must go to +Petersburg and settle his wife's affairs and must rebuild in Moscow. +Why this was necessary he did not know, but he knew for certain that +it was necessary. His income would be reduced by three fourths, but he +felt it must be done. + +Willarski was going to Moscow and they agreed to travel together. + +During the whole time of his convalescence in Orel Pierre had +experienced a feeling of joy, freedom, and life; but when during his +journey he found himself in the open world and saw hundreds of new +faces, that feeling was intensified. Throughout his journey he felt +like a schoolboy on holiday. Everyone- the stagecoach driver, the +post-house overseers, the peasants on the roads and in the villages- +had a new significance for him. The presence and remarks of +Willarski who continually deplored the ignorance and poverty of Russia +and its backwardness compared with Europe only heightened Pierre's +pleasure. Where Willarski saw deadness Pierre saw an extraordinary +strength and vitality- the strength which in that vast space amid +the snows maintained the life of this original, peculiar, and unique +people. He did not contradict Willarski and even seemed to agree +with him- an apparent agreement being the simplest way to avoid +discussions that could lead to nothing- and he smiled joyfully as he +listened to him. + +CHAPTER XIV + +It would be difficult to explain why and whither ants whose heap has +been destroyed are hurrying: some from the heap dragging bits of +rubbish, larvae, and corpses, others back to the heap, or why they +jostle, overtake one another, and fight, and it would be equally +difficult to explain what caused the Russians after the departure of +the French to throng to the place that had formerly been Moscow. But +when we watch the ants round their ruined heap, the tenacity, +energy, and immense number of the delving insects prove that despite +the destruction of the heap, something indestructible, which though +intangible is the real strength of the colony, still exists; and +similarly, though in Moscow in the month of October there was no +government no churches, shrines, riches, or houses- it was still the +Moscow it had been in August. All was destroyed, except something +intangible yet powerful and indestructible. + +The motives of those who thronged from all sides to Moscow after +it had been cleared of the enemy were most diverse and personal, and +at first for the most part savage and brutal. One motive only they all +had in common: a desire to get to the place that had been called +Moscow, to apply their activities there. + +Within a week Moscow already had fifteen thousand inhabitants, in +a fortnight twenty-five thousand, and so on. By the autumn of 1813 the +number, ever increasing and increasing, exceeded what it had been in +1812. + +The first Russians to enter Moscow were the Cossacks of +Wintzingerode's detachment, peasants from the adjacent villages, and +residents who had fled from Moscow and had been hiding in its +vicinity. The Russians who entered Moscow, finding it plundered, +plundered it in their turn. They continued what the French had +begun. Trains of peasant carts came to Moscow to carry off to the +villages what had been abandoned in the ruined houses and the streets. +The Cossacks carried off what they could to their camps, and the +householders seized all they could find in other houses and moved it +to their own, pretending that it was their property. + +But the first plunderers were followed by a second and a third +contingent, and with increasing numbers plundering became more and +more difficult and assumed more definite forms. + +The French found Moscow abandoned but with all the organizations +of regular life, with diverse branches of commerce and +craftsmanship, with luxury, and governmental and religious +institutions. These forms were lifeless but still existed. There +were bazaars, shops, warehouses, market stalls, granaries- for the +most part still stocked with goods- and there were factories and +workshops, palaces and wealthy houses filled with luxuries, hospitals, +prisons, government offices, churches, and cathedrals. The longer +the French remained the more these forms of town life perished, +until finally all was merged into one confused, lifeless scene of +plunder. + +The more the plundering by the French continued, the more both the +wealth of Moscow and the strength of its plunderers was destroyed. But +plundering by the Russians, with which the reoccupation of the city +began, had an opposite effect: the longer it continued and the greater +the number of people taking part in it the more rapidly was the wealth +of the city and its regular life restored. + +Besides the plunderers, very various people, some drawn by +curiosity, some by official duties, some by self-interest- house +owners, clergy, officials of all kinds, tradesmen, artisans, and +peasants- streamed into Moscow as blood flows to the heart. + +Within a week the peasants who came with empty carts to carry off +plunder were stopped by the authorities and made to cart the corpses +out of the town. Other peasants, having heard of their comrades' +discomfiture, came to town bringing rye, oats, and hay, and beat +down one another's prices to below what they had been in former +days. Gangs of carpenters hoping for high pay arrived in Moscow +every day, and on all sides logs were being hewn, new houses built, +and old, charred ones repaired. Tradesmen began trading in booths. +Cookshops and taverns were opened in partially burned houses. The +clergy resumed the services in many churches that had not been burned. +Donors contributed Church property that had been stolen. Government +clerks set up their baize-covered tables and their pigeonholes of +documents in small rooms. The higher authorities and the police +organized the distribution of goods left behind by the French. The +owners of houses in which much property had been left, brought there +from other houses, complained of the injustice of taking everything to +the Faceted Palace in the Kremlin; others insisted that as the +French had gathered things from different houses into this or that +house, it would be unfair to allow its owner to keep all that was +found there. They abused the police and bribed them, made out +estimates at ten times their value for government stores that had +perished in the fire, and demanded relief. And Count Rostopchin +wrote proclamations. + +CHAPTER XV + +At the end of January Pierre went to Moscow and stayed in an annex +of his house which had not been burned. He called on Count +Rostopchin and on some acquaintances who were back in Moscow, and he +intended to leave for Petersburg two days later. Everybody was +celebrating the victory, everything was bubbling with life in the +ruined but reviving city. Everyone was pleased to see Pierre, everyone +wished to meet him, and everyone questioned him about what he had +seen. Pierre felt particularly well disposed toward them all, but +was now instinctively on his guard for fear of binding himself in +any way. To all questions put to him- whether important or quite +trifling- such as: Where would he live? Was he going to rebuild? +When was he going to Petersburg and would he mind taking a parcel +for someone?- he replied: "Yes, perhaps," or, "I think so," and so on. + +He had heard that the Rostovs were at Kostroma but the thought of +Natasha seldom occurred to him. If it did it was only as a pleasant +memory of the distant past. He felt himself not only free from +social obligations but also from that feeling which, it seemed to him, +he had aroused in himself. + +On the third day after his arrival he heard from the Drubetskoys +that Princess Mary was in Moscow. The death, sufferings, and last days +of Prince Andrew had often occupied Pierre's thoughts and now recurred +to him with fresh vividness. Having heard at dinner that Princess Mary +was in Moscow and living in her house- which had not been burned- in +Vozdvizhenka Street, he drove that same evening to see her. + +On his way to the house Pierre kept thinking of Prince Andrew, of +their friendship, of his various meetings with him, and especially +of the last one at Borodino. + +"Is it possible that he died in the bitter frame of mind he was then +in? Is it possible that the meaning of life was not disclosed to him +before he died?" thought Pierre. He recalled Karataev and his death +and involuntarily began to compare these two men, so different, and +yet so similar in that they had both lived and both died and in the +love he felt for both of them. + +Pierre drove up to the house of the old prince in a most serious +mood. The house had escaped the fire; it showed signs of damage but +its general aspect was unchanged. The old footman, who met Pierre with +a stern face as if wishing to make the visitor feel that the absence +of the old prince had not disturbed the order of things in the +house, informed him that the princess had gone to her own +apartments, and that she received on Sundays. + +"Announce me. Perhaps she will see me," said Pierre. + +"Yes, sir," said the man. "Please step into the portrait gallery." + +A few minutes later the footman returned with Dessalles, who brought +word from the princess that she would be very glad to see Pierre if he +would excuse her want of ceremony and come upstairs to her apartment. + +In a rather low room lit by one candle sat the princess and with her +another person dressed in black. Pierre remembered that the princess +always had lady companions, but who they were and what they were +like he never knew or remembered. "This must be one of her +companions," he thought, glancing at the lady in the black dress. + +The princess rose quickly to meet him and held out her hand. + +"Yes," she said, looking at his altered face after he had kissed her +hand, "so this is how we meet again. He of spoke of you even at the +very last," she went on, turning her eyes from Pierre to her companion +with a shyness that surprised him for an instant. + +"I was so glad to hear of your safety. It was the first piece of +good news we had received for a long time." + +Again the princess glanced round at her companion with even more +uneasiness in her manner and was about to add something, but Pierre +interrupted her. + +"Just imagine- I knew nothing about him!" said he. "I thought he had +been killed. All I know I heard at second hand from others. I only +know that he fell in with the Rostovs.... What a strange coincidence!" + +Pierre spoke rapidly and with animation. He glanced once at the +companion's face, saw her attentive and kindly gaze fixed on him, and, +as often happens when one is talking, felt somehow that this companion +in the black dress was a good, kind, excellent creature who would +not hinder his conversing freely with Princess Mary. + +But when he mentioned the Rostovs, Princess Mary's face expressed +still greater embarrassment. She again glanced rapidly from Pierre's +face to that of the lady in the black dress and said: + +"Do you really not recognize her?" + +Pierre looked again at the companion's pale, delicate face with +its black eyes and peculiar mouth, and something near to him, long +forgotten and more than sweet, looked at him from those attentive +eyes. + +"But no, it can't be!" he thought. "This stern, thin, pale face that +looks so much older! It cannot be she. It merely reminds me of her." +But at that moment Princess Mary said, "Natasha!" And with difficulty, +effort, and stress, like the opening of a door grown rusty on its +hinges, a smile appeared on the face with the attentive eyes, and from +that opening door came a breath of fragrance which suffused Pierre +with a happiness he had long forgotten and of which he had not even +been thinking- especially at that moment. It suffused him, seized him, +and enveloped him completely. When she smiled doubt was no longer +possible, it was Natasha and he loved her. + +At that moment Pierre involuntarily betrayed to her, to Princess +Mary, and above all to himself, a secret of which he himself had +been unaware. He flushed joyfully yet with painful distress. He +tried to hide his agitation. But the more he tried to hide it the more +clearly- clearer than any words could have done- did he betray to +himself, to her, and to Princess Mary that he loved her. + +"No, it's only the unexpectedness of it," thought Pierre. But as +soon as he tried to continue the conversation he had begun with +Princess Mary he again glanced at Natasha, and a still-deeper flush +suffused his face and a still-stronger agitation of mingled joy and +fear seized his soul. He became confused in his speech and stopped +in the middle of what he was saying. + +Pierre had failed to notice Natasha because he did not at all expect +to see her there, but he had failed to recognize her because the +change in her since he last saw her was immense. She had grown thin +and pale, but that was not what made her unrecognizable; she was +unrecognizable at the moment he entered because on that face whose +eyes had always shone with a suppressed smile of the joy of life, +now when he first entered and glanced at her there was not the least +shadow of a smile: only her eyes were kindly attentive and sadly +interrogative. + +Pierre's confusion was not reflected by any confusion on Natasha's +part, but only by the pleasure that just perceptibly lit up her +whole face. + +CHAPTER XVI + +"She has come to stay with me," said Princess Mary. "The count and +countess will be here in a few days. The countess is in a dreadful +state; but it was necessary for Natasha herself to see a doctor. +They insisted on her coming with me." + +"Yes, is there a family free from sorrow now?" said Pierre, +addressing Natasha. "You know it happened the very day we were +rescued. I saw him. What a delightful boy he was!" + +Natasha looked at him, and by way of answer to his words her eyes +widened and lit up. + +"What can one say or think of as a consolation?" said Pierre. +"Nothing! Why had such a splendid boy, so full of life, to die?" + +"Yes, in these days it would be hard to live without faith..." +remarked Princess Mary. + +"Yes, yes, that is really true," Pierre hastily interrupted her. + +"Why is it true?" Natasha asked, looking attentively into Pierre's +eyes. + +"How can you ask why?" said Princess Mary. "The thought alone of +what awaits..." + +Natasha without waiting for Princess Mary to finish again looked +inquiringly at Pierre. + +"And because," Pierre continued, "only one who believes that there +is a God ruling us can bear a loss such as hers and... yours." + +Natasha had already opened her mouth to speak but suddenly +stopped. Pierre hurriedly turned away from her and again addressed +Princess Mary, asking about his friend's last days. + +Pierre's confusion had now almost vanished, but at the same time +he felt that his freedom had also completely gone. He felt that +there was now a judge of his every word and action whose judgment +mattered more to him than that of all the rest of the world. As he +spoke now he was considering what impression his words would make on +Natasha. He did not purposely say things to please her, but whatever +he was saying he regarded from her standpoint. + +Princess Mary- reluctantly as is usual in such cases- began +telling of the condition in which she had found Prince Andrew. But +Pierre's face quivering with emotion, his questions and his eager +restless expression, gradually compelled her to go into details +which she feared to recall for her own sake. + +"Yes, yes, and so...? " Pierre kept saying as he leaned toward her +with his whole body and eagerly listened to her story. "Yes, yes... so +he grew tranquil and softened? With all his soul he had always +sought one thing- to be perfectly good- so he could not be afraid of +death. The faults he had- if he had any- were not of his making. So he +did soften?... What a happy thing that he saw you again," he added, +suddenly turning to Natasha and looking at her with eyes full of +tears. + +Natasha's face twitched. She frowned and lowered her eyes for a +moment. She hesitated for an instant whether to speak or not. + +"Yes, that was happiness," she then said in her quiet voice with its +deep chest notes. "For me it certainly was happiness." She paused. +"And he... he... he said he was wishing for it at the very moment I +entered the room...." + +Natasha's voice broke. She blushed, pressed her clasped hands on her +knees, and then controlling herself with an evident effort lifted +her head and began to speak rapidly. + +"We knew nothing of it when we started from Moscow. I did not dare +to ask about him. Then suddenly Sonya told me he was traveling with +us. I had no idea and could not imagine what state he was in, all I +wanted was to see him and be with him," she said, trembling, and +breathing quickly. + +And not letting them interrupt her she went on to tell what she +had never yet mentioned to anyone- all she had lived through during +those three weeks of their journey and life at Yaroslavl. + +Pierre listened to her with lips parted and eyes fixed upon her full +of tears. As he listened he did not think of Prince Andrew, nor of +death, nor of what she was telling. He listened to her and felt only +pity for her, for what she was suffering now while she was speaking. + +Princess Mary, frowning in her effort to hold back her tears, sat +beside Natasha, and heard for the first time the story of those last +days of her brother's and Natasha's love. + +Evidently Natasha needed to tell that painful yet joyful tale. + +She spoke, mingling most trifling details with the intimate +secrets of her soul, and it seemed as if she could never finish. +Several times she repeated the same thing twice. + +Dessalles' voice was heard outside the door asking whether little +Nicholas might come in to say good night. + +"Well, that's all- everything," said Natasha. + +She got up quickly just as Nicholas entered, almost ran to the +door which was hidden by curtains, struck her head against it, and +rushed from the room with a moan either of pain or sorrow. + +Pierre gazed at the door through which she had disappeared and did +not understand why he suddenly felt all alone in the world. + +Princess Mary roused him from his abstraction by drawing his +attention to her nephew who had entered the room. + +At that moment of emotional tenderness young Nicholas' face, which +resembled his father's, affected Pierre so much that when he had +kissed the boy he got up quickly, took out his handkerchief, and +went to the window. He wished to take leave of Princess Mary, but +she would not let him go. + +"No, Natasha and I sometimes don't go to sleep till after two, so +please don't go. I will order supper. Go downstairs, we will come +immediately." + +Before Pierre left the room Princess Mary told him: "This is the +first time she has talked of him like that." + +CHAPTER XVII + +Pierre was shown into the large, brightly lit dining room; a few +minutes later he heard footsteps and Princess Mary entered with +Natasha. Natasha was calm, though a severe and grave expression had +again settled on her face. They all three of them now experienced that +feeling of awkwardness which usually follows after a serious and +heartfelt talk. It is impossible to go back to the same +conversation, to talk of trifles is awkward, and yet the desire to +speak is there and silence seems like affectation. They went +silently to table. The footmen drew back the chairs and pushed them up +again. Pierre unfolded his cold table napkin and, resolving to break +the silence, looked at Natasha and at Princess Mary. They had +evidently both formed the same resolution; the eyes of both shone with +satisfaction and a confession that besides sorrow life also has joy. + +"Do you take vodka, Count?" asked Princess Mary, and those words +suddenly banished the shadows of the past. "Now tell us about +yourself," said she. "One hears such improbable wonders about you." + +"Yes," replied Pierre with the smile of mild irony now habitual to +him. "They even tell me wonders I myself never dreamed of! Mary +Abramovna invited me to her house and kept telling me what had +happened, or ought to have happened, to me. Stepan Stepanych also +instructed me how I ought to tell of my experiences. In general I have +noticed that it is very easy to be an interesting man (I am an +interesting man now); people invite me out and tell me all about +myself." + +Natasha smiled and was on the point of speaking. + +"We have been told," Princess Mary interrupted her, "that you lost +two millions in Moscow. Is that true?" + +"But I am three times as rich as before," returned Pierre. + +Though the position was now altered by his decision to pay his +wife's debts and to rebuild his houses, Pierre still maintained that +he had become three times as rich as before. + +"What I have certainly gained is freedom," he began seriously, but +did not continue, noticing that this theme was too egotistic. + +"And are you building?" + +"Yes. Savelich says I must!" + +"Tell me, you did not know of the countess' death when you decided +to remain in Moscow?" asked Princess Mary and immediately blushed, +noticing that her question, following his mention of freedom, ascribed +to his words a meaning he had perhaps not intended. + +"No," answered Pierre, evidently not considering awkward the meaning +Princess Mary had given to his words. "I heard of it in Orel and you +cannot imagine how it shocked me. We were not an exemplary couple," he +added quickly, glancing at Natasha and noticing on her face +curiosity as to how he would speak of his wife, "but her death shocked +me terribly. When two people quarrel they are always both in fault, +and one's own guilt suddenly becomes terribly serious when the other +is no longer alive. And then such a death... without friends and +without consolation! I am very, very sorry for her," he concluded, and +was pleased to notice a look of glad approval on Natasha's face. + +"Yes, and so you are once more an eligible bachelor," said +Princess Mary. + +Pierre suddenly flushed crimson and for a long time tried not to +look at Natasha. When he ventured to glance her way again her face was +cold, stern, and he fancied even contemptuous. + +"And did you really see and speak to Napoleon, as we have been +told?" said Princess Mary. + +Pierre laughed. + +"No, not once! Everybody seems to imagine that being taken +prisoner means being Napoleon's guest. Not only did I never see him +but I heard nothing about him- I was in much lower company!" + +Supper was over, and Pierre who at first declined to speak about his +captivity was gradually led on to do so. + +"But it's true that you remained in Moscow to kill Napoleon?" +Natasha asked with a slight smile. "I guessed it then when we met at +the Sukharev tower, do you remember?" + +Pierre admitted that it was true, and from that was gradually led by +Princess Mary's questions and especially by Natasha's into giving a +detailed account of his adventures. + +At first he spoke with the amused and mild irony now customary +with him toward everybody and especially toward himself, but when he +came to describe the horrors and sufferings he had witnessed he was +unconsciously carried away and began speaking with the suppressed +emotion of a man re-experiencing in recollection strong impressions he +has lived through. + +Princess Mary with a gentle smile looked now at Pierre and now at +Natasha. In the whole narrative she saw only Pierre and his +goodness. Natasha, leaning on her elbow, the expression of her face +constantly changing with the narrative, watched Pierre with an +attention that never wandered- evidently herself experiencing all that +he described. Not only her look, but her exclamations and the brief +questions she put, showed Pierre that she understood just what he +wished to convey. It was clear that she understood not only what he +said but also what he wished to, but could not, express in words. +The account Pierre gave of the incident with the child and the woman +for protecting whom he was arrested was this: "It was an awful +sight- children abandoned, some in the flames... One was snatched +out before my eyes... and there were women who had their things +snatched off and their earrings torn out..." he flushed and grew +confused. "Then a patrol arrived and all the men- all those who were +not looting, that is- were arrested, and I among them." + +"I am sure you're not telling us everything; I am sure you did +something..." said Natasha and pausing added, "something fine?" + +Pierre continued. When he spoke of the execution he wanted to pass +over the horrible details, but Natasha insisted that he should not +omit anything. + +Pierre began to tell about Karataev, but paused. By this time he had +risen from the table and was pacing the room, Natasha following him +with her eyes. Then he added: + +"No, you can't understand what I learned from that illiterate man- +that simple fellow." + +"Yes, yes, go on!" said Natasha. "Where is he?" + +"They killed him almost before my eyes." + +And Pierre, his voice trembling continually, went on to tell of +the last days of their retreat, of Karataev's illness and his death. + +He told of his adventures as he had never yet recalled them. He now, +as it were, saw a new meaning in all he had gone through. Now that +he was telling it all to Natasha he experienced that pleasure which +a man has when women listen to him- not clever women who when +listening either try to remember what they hear to enrich their +minds and when opportunity offers to retell it, or who wish to adopt +it to some thought of their own and promptly contribute their own +clever comments prepared in their little mental workshop- but the +pleasure given by real women gifted with a capacity to select and +absorb the very best a man shows of himself. Natasha without knowing +it was all attention: she did not lose a word, no single quiver in +Pierre's voice, no look, no twitch of a muscle in his face, nor a +single gesture. She caught the unfinished word in its flight and +took it straight into her open heart, divining the secret meaning of +all Pierre's mental travail. + +Princess Mary understood his story and sympathized with him, but she +now saw something else that absorbed all her attention. She saw the +possibility of love and happiness between Natasha and Pierre, and +the first thought of this filled her heart with gladness. + +It was three o'clock in the morning. The footmen came in with sad +and stern faces to change the candles, but no one noticed them. + +Pierre finished his story. Natasha continued to look at him intently +with bright, attentive, and animated eyes, as if trying to +understand something more which he had perhaps left untold. Pierre +in shamefaced and happy confusion glanced occasionally at her, and +tried to think what to say next to introduce a fresh subject. Princess +Mary was silent. It occurred to none of them that it was three o'clock +and time to go to bed. + +"People speak of misfortunes and sufferings," remarked Pierre, +"but if at this moment I were asked: 'Would you rather be what you +were before you were taken prisoner, or go through all this again?' +then for heaven's sake let me again have captivity and horseflesh! +We imagine that when we are thrown out of our usual ruts all is +lost, but it is only then that what is new and good begins. While +there is life there is happiness. There is much, much before us. I say +this to you," he added, turning to Natasha. + +"Yes, yes," she said, answering something quite different. "I too +should wish nothing but to relive it all from the beginning." + +Pierre looked intently at her. + +"Yes, and nothing more." said Natasha. + +"It's not true, not true!" cried Pierre. "I am not to blame for +being alive and wishing to live- nor you either." + +Suddenly Natasha bent her head, covered her face with her hands, and +began to cry. + +"What is it, Natasha?" said Princess Mary. + +"Nothing, nothing." She smiled at Pierre through her tears. "Good +night! It is time for bed." + +Pierre rose and took his leave. + +Princess Mary and Natasha met as usual in the bedroom. They talked +of what Pierre had told them. Princess Mary did not express her +opinion of Pierre nor did Natasha speak of him. + +"Well, good night, Mary!" said Natasha. "Do you know, I am often +afraid that by not speaking of him" (she meant Prince Andrew) "for +fear of not doing justice to our feelings, we forget him." + +Princess Mary sighed deeply and thereby acknowledged the justice +of Natasha's remark, but she did not express agreement in words. + +"Is it possible to forget?" said she. + +"It did me so much good to tell all about it today. It was hard +and painful, but good, very good!" said Natasha. "I am sure he +really loved him. That is why I told him... Was it all right?" she +added, suddenly blushing. + +"To tell Pierre? Oh, yes. What a splendid man he is!" said +Princess Mary. + +"Do you know, Mary..." Natasha suddenly said with a mischievous +smile such as Princess Mary had not seen on her face for a long +time, "he has somehow grown so clean, smooth, and fresh- as if he +had just come out of a Russian bath; do you understand? Out of a moral +bath. Isn't it true?" + +"Yes," replied Princess Mary. "He has greatly improved." + +"With a short coat and his hair cropped; just as if, well, just as +if he had come straight from the bath... Papa used to..." + +"I understand why he" (Prince Andrew) "liked no one so much as him," +said Princess Mary. + +"Yes, and yet he is quite different. They say men are friends when +they are quite different. That must be true. Really he is quite unlike +him- in everything." + +"Yes, but he's wonderful." + +"Well, good night," said Natasha. + +And the same mischievous smile lingered for a long time on her +face as if it had been forgotten there. + +CHAPTER XVIII + +It was a long time before Pierre could fall asleep that night. He +paced up and down his room, now turning his thoughts on a difficult +problem and frowning, now suddenly shrugging his shoulders and +wincing, and now smiling happily. + +He was thinking of Prince Andrew, of Natasha, and of their love, +at one moment jealous of her past, then reproaching himself for that +feeling. It was already six in the morning and he still paced up and +down the room. + +"Well, what's to be done if it cannot be avoided? What's to be done? +Evidently it has to be so," said he to himself, and hastily undressing +he got into bed, happy and agitated but free from hesitation or +indecision. + +"Strange and impossible as such happiness seems, I must do +everything that she and I may be man and wife," he told himself. + +A few days previously Pierre had decided to go to Petersburg on +the Friday. When he awoke on the Thursday, Savelich came to ask him +about packing for the journey. + +"What, to Petersburg? What is Petersburg? Who is there in +Petersburg?" he asked involuntarily, though only to himself. "Oh, yes, +long ago before this happened I did for some reason mean to go to +Petersburg," he reflected. "Why? But perhaps I shall go. What a good +fellow he is and how attentive, and how he remembers everything," he +thought, looking at Savelich's old face, "and what a pleasant smile he +has!" + +"Well, Savelich, do you still not wish to accept your freedom?" +Pierre asked him. + +"What's the good of freedom to me, your excellency? We lived under +the late count- the kingdom of heaven be his!- and we have lived under +you too, without ever being wronged." + +"And your children?" + +"The children will live just the same. With such masters one can +live." + +"But what about my heirs?" said Pierre. "Supposing I suddenly +marry... it might happen," he added with an involuntary smile. + +"If I may take the liberty, your excellency, it would be a good +thing." + +"How easy he thinks it," thought Pierre. "He doesn't know how +terrible it is and how dangerous. Too soon or too late... it is +terrible!" + +"So what are your orders? Are you starting tomorrow?" asked +Savelich. + +"No, I'll put it off for a bit. I'll tell you later. You must +forgive the trouble I have put you to," said Pierre, and seeing +Savelich smile, he thought: "But how strange it is that he should +not know that now there is no Petersburg for me, and that that must be +settled first of all! But probably he knows it well enough and is only +pretending. Shall I have a talk with him and see what he thinks?" +Pierre reflected. "No, another time." + +At breakfast Pierre told the princess, his cousin, that he had +been to see Princess Mary the day before and had there met- "Whom do +you think? Natasha Rostova!" + +The princess seemed to see nothing more extraordinary in that than +if he had seen Anna Semenovna. + +"Do you know her?" asked Pierre. + +"I have seen the princess," she replied. "I heard that they were +arranging a match for her with young Rostov. It would be a very good +thing for the Rostovs, they are said to be utterly ruined." + +"No; I mean do you know Natasha Rostova?" + +"I heard about that affair of hers at the time. It was a great +pity." + +"No, she either doesn't understand or is pretending," thought +Pierre. "Better not say anything to her either." + +The princess too had prepared provisions for Pierre's journey. + +"How kind they all are," thought Pierre. "What is surprising is that +they should trouble about these things now when it can no longer be of +interest to them. And all for me!" + +On the same day the Chief of Police came to Pierre, inviting him +to send a representative to the Faceted Palace to recover things +that were to be returned to their owners that day. + +"And this man too," thought Pierre, looking into the face of the +Chief of Police. "What a fine, good-looking officer and how kind. +Fancy bothering about such trifies now! And they actually say he is +not honest and takes bribes. What nonsense! Besides, why shouldn't +he take bribes? That's the way he was brought up, and everybody does +it. But what a kind, pleasant face and how he smiles as he looks at +me." + +Pierre went to Princess Mary's to dinner. + +As he drove through the streets past the houses that had been burned +down, he was surprised by the beauty of those ruins. The +picturesqueness of the chimney stacks and tumble-down walls of the +burned-out quarters of the town, stretching out and concealing one +another, reminded him of the Rhine and the Colosseum. The cabmen he +met and their passengers, the carpenters cutting the timber for new +houses with axes, the women hawkers, and the shopkeepers, all looked +at him with cheerful beaming eyes that seemed to say: "Ah, there he +is! Let's see what will come of it!" + +At the entrance to Princess Mary's house Pierre felt doubtful +whether he had really been there the night before and really seen +Natasha and talked to her. "Perhaps I imagined it; perhaps I shall +go in and find no one there." But he had hardly entered the room +before he felt her presence with his whole being by the loss of his +sense of freedom. She was in the same black dress with soft folds +and her hair was done the same way as the day before, yet she was +quite different. Had she been like this when he entered the day before +he could not for a moment have failed to recognize her. + +She was as he had known her almost as a child and later on as Prince +Andrew's fiancee. A bright questioning light shone in her eyes, and on +her face was a friendly and strangely roguish expression. + +Pierre dined with them and would have spent the whole evening there, +but Princess Mary was going to vespers and Pierre left the house +with her. + +Next day he came early, dined, and stayed the whole evening. +Though Princess Mary and Natasha were evidently glad to see their +visitor and though all Pierre's interest was now centered in that +house, by the evening they had talked over everything and the +conversation passed from one trivial topic to another and repeatedly +broke off. He stayed so long that Princess Mary and Natasha +exchanged glances, evidently wondering when he would go. Pierre +noticed this but could not go. He felt uneasy and embarrassed, but sat +on because he simply could not get up and take his leave. + +Princess Mary, foreseeing no end to this, rose first, and +complaining of a headache began to say good night. + +"So you are going to Petersburg tomorrow?" she asked. + +"No, I am not going," Pierre replied hastily, in a surprised tone +and as though offended. "Yes... no... to Petersburg? Tomorrow- but I +won't say good-by yet. I will call round in case you have any +commissions for me," said he, standing before Princess Mary and +turning red, but not taking his departure. + +Natasha gave him her hand and went out. Princess Mary on the other +hand instead of going away sank into an armchair, and looked sternly +and intently at him with her deep, radiant eyes. The weariness she had +plainly shown before had now quite passed off. With a deep and +long-drawn sigh she seemed to be prepared for a lengthy talk. + +When Natasha left the room Pierre's confusion and awkwardness +immediately vanished and were replaced by eager excitement. He quickly +moved an armchair toward Princess Mary. + +"Yes, I wanted to tell you," said he, answering her look as if she +had spoken. "Princess, help me! What am I to do? Can I hope? Princess, +my dear friend, listen! I know it all. I know I am not worthy of +her, I know it's impossible to speak of it now. But I want to be a +brother to her. No, not that, I don't, I can't..." + +He paused and rubbed his face and eyes with his hands. + +"Well," he went on with an evident effort at self-control and +coherence. "I don't know when I began to love her, but I have loved +her and her alone all my life, and I love her so that I cannot imagine +life without her. I cannot propose to her at present, but the +thought that perhaps she might someday be my wife and that I may be +missing that possibility... that possibility... is terrible. Tell +me, can I hope? Tell me what I am to do, dear princess!" he added +after a pause, and touched her hand as she did not reply. + +"I am thinking of what you have told me," answered Princess Mary. +"This is what I will say. You are right that to speak to her of love +at present..." + +Princess Mary stopped. She was going to say that to speak of love +was impossible, but she stopped because she had seen by the sudden +change in Natasha two days before that she would not only not be +hurt if Pierre spoke of his love, but that it was the very thing she +wished for. + +"To speak to her now wouldn't do," said the princess all the same. + +"But what am I to do? + +"Leave it to me," said Princess Mary. "I know..." + +Pierre was looking into Princess Mary's eyes. + +"Well?... Well?..." he said. + +"I know that she loves... will love you," Princess Mary corrected +herself. + +Before her words were out, Pierre had sprung up and with a +frightened expression seized Princess Mary's hand. + +"What makes you think so? You think I may hope? You think...?" + +"Yes, I think so," said Princess Mary with a smile. "Write to her +parents, and leave it to me. I will tell her when I can. I wish it +to happen and my heart tells me it will." + +"No, it cannot be! How happy I am! But it can't be.... How happy I +am! No, it can't be!" Pierre kept saying as he kissed Princess +Mary's hands. + +"Go to Petersburg, that will be best. And I will write to you," +she said. + +"To Petersburg? Go there? Very well, I'll go. But I may come again +tomorrow?" + +Next day Pierre came to say good-by. Natasha was less animated +than she had been the day before; but that day as he looked at her +Pierre sometimes felt as if he was vanishing and that neither he nor +she existed any longer, that nothing existed but happiness. "Is it +possible? No, it can't be," he told himself at every look, gesture, +and word that filled his soul with joy. + +When on saying good-by he took her thin, slender hand, he could +not help holding it a little longer in his own. + +"Is it possible that this hand, that face, those eyes, all this +treasure of feminine charm so strange to me now, is it possible that +it will one day be mine forever, as familiar to me as I am to +myself?... No, that's impossible!..." + +"Good-by, Count," she said aloud. "I shall look forward very much to +your return," she added in a whisper. + +And these simple words, her look, and the expression on her face +which accompanied them, formed for two months the subject of +inexhaustible memories, interpretations, and happy meditations for +Pierre. "'I shall look forward very much to your return....' Yes, yes, +how did she say it? Yes, 'I shall look forward very much to your +return.' Oh, how happy I am! What is happening to me? How happy I am!" +said Pierre to himself. + +CHAPTER XIX + +There was nothing in Pierre's soul now at all like what had troubled +it during his courtship of Helene. + +He did not repeat to himself with a sickening feeling of shame the +words he had spoken, or say: "Oh, why did I not say that?" and, +"Whatever made me say 'Je vous aime'?" On the contrary, he now +repeated in imagination every word that he or Natasha had spoken and +pictured every detail of her face and smile, and did not wish to +diminish or add anything, but only to repeat it again and again. There +was now not a shadow of doubt in his mind as to whether what he had +undertaken was right or wrong. Only one terrible doubt sometimes +crossed his mind: "Wasn't it all a dream? Isn't Princess Mary +mistaken? Am I not too conceited and self-confident? I believe all +this- and suddenly Princess Mary will tell her, and she will be sure +to smile and say: 'How strange! He must be deluding himself. Doesn't +he know that he is a man, just a man, while I...? I am something +altogether different and higher.'" + +That was the only doubt often troubling Pierre. He did not now +make any plans. The happiness before him appeared so inconceivable +that if only he could attain it, it would be the end of all things. +Everything ended with that. + +A joyful, unexpected frenzy, of which he had thought himself +incapable, possessed him. The whole meaning of life- not for him alone +but for the whole world- seemed to him centered in his love and the +possibility of being loved by her. At times everybody seemed to him to +be occupied with one thing only- his future happiness. Sometimes it +seemed to him that other people were all as pleased as he was +himself and merely tried to hide that pleasure by pretending to be +busy with other interests. In every word and gesture he saw +allusions to his happiness. He often surprised those he met by his +significantly happy looks and smiles which seemed to express a +secret understanding between him and them. And when he realized that +people might not be aware of his happiness, he pitied them with his +whole heart and felt a desire somehow to explain to them that all that +occupied them was a mere frivolous trifle unworthy of attention. + +When it was suggested to him that he should enter the civil service, +or when the war or any general political affairs were discussed on the +assumption that everybody's welfare depended on this or that issue +of events, he would listen with a mild and pitying smile and +surprise people by his strange comments. But at this time he saw +everybody- both those who, as he imagined, understood the real meaning +of life (that is, what he was feeling) and those unfortunates who +evidently did not understand it- in the bright light of the emotion +that shone within himself, and at once without any effort saw in +everyone he met everything that was good and worthy of being loved. + +When dealing with the affairs and papers of his dead wife, her +memory aroused in him no feeling but pity that she had not known the +bliss he now knew. Prince Vasili, who having obtained a new post and +some fresh decorations was particularly proud at this time, seemed +to him a pathetic, kindly old man much to be pitied. + +Often in afterlife Pierre recalled this period of blissful insanity. +All the views he formed of men and circumstances at this time remained +true for him always. He not only did not renounce them subsequently, +but when he was in doubt or inwardly at variance, he referred to the +views he had held at this time of his madness and they always proved +correct. + +"I may have appeared strange and queer then," he thought, "but I was +not so mad as I seemed. On the contrary I was then wiser and had +more insight than at any other time, and understood all that is +worth understanding in life, because... because I was happy." + +Pierre's insanity consisted in not waiting, as he used to do, to +discover personal attributes which he termed "good qualities" in +people before loving them; his heart was now overflowing with love, +and by loving people without cause he discovered indubitable causes +for loving them. + +CHAPTER XX + +After Pierre's departure that first evening, when Natasha had said +to Princess Mary with a gaily mocking smile: "He looks just, yes, just +as if he had come out of a Russian bath- in a short coat and with +his hair cropped," something hidden and unknown to herself, but +irrepressible, awoke in Natasha's soul. + +Everything: her face, walk, look, and voice, was suddenly altered. +To her own surprise a power of life and hope of happiness rose to +the surface and demanded satisfaction. From that evening she seemed to +have forgotten all that had happened to her. She no longer +complained of her position, did not say a word about the past, and +no longer feared to make happy plans for the future. She spoke +little of Pierre, but when Princess Mary mentioned him a +long-extinguished light once more kindled in her eyes and her lips +curved with a strange smile. + +The change that took place in Natasha at first surprised Princess +Mary; but when she understood its meaning it grieved her. "Can she +have loved my brother so little as to be able to forget him so +soon?" she thought when she reflected on the change. But when she +was with Natasha she was not vexed with her and did not reproach +her. The reawakened power of life that had seized Natasha was so +evidently irrepressible and unexpected by her that in her presence +Princess Mary felt that she had no right to reproach her even in her +heart. + +Natasha gave herself up so fully and frankly to this new feeling +that she did not try to hide the fact that she was no longer sad, +but bright and cheerful. + +When Princess Mary returned to her room after her nocturnal talk +with Pierre, Natasha met her on the threshold. + +"He has spoken? Yes? He has spoken?" she repeated. + +And a joyful yet pathetic expression which seemed to beg forgiveness +for her joy settled on Natasha's face. + +"I wanted to listen at the door, but I knew you would tell me." + +Understandable and touching as the look with which Natasha gazed +at her seemed to Princess Mary, and sorry as she was to see her +agitation, these words pained her for a moment. She remembered her +brother and his love. + +"But what's to be done? She can't help it," thought the princess. + +And with a sad and rather stern look she told Natasha all that +Pierre had said. On hearing that he was going to Petersburg Natasha +was astounded. + +"To Petersburg!" she repeated as if unable to understand. + +But noticing the grieved expression on Princess Mary's face she +guessed the reason of that sadness and suddenly began to cry. + +"Mary," said she, "tell me what I should do! I am afraid of being +bad. Whatever you tell me, I will do. Tell me...." + +"You love him?" + +"Yes," whispered Natasha. + +"Then why are you crying? I am happy for your sake," said Princess +Mary, who because of those tears quite forgave Natasha's joy. + +"It won't be just yet- someday. Think what fun it will be when I +am his wife and you marry Nicholas!" + +"Natasha, I have asked you not to speak of that. Let us talk about +you." + +They were silent awhile. + +"But why go to Petersburg?" Natasha suddenly asked, and hastily +replied to her own question. "But no, no, he must... Yes, Mary, He +must...." + +FIRST EPILOGUE: 1813 - 20 + +CHAPTER I + +Seven years had passed. The storm-tossed sea of European history had +subsided within its shores and seemed to have become calm. But the +mysterious forces that move humanity (mysterious because the laws of +their motion are unknown to us) continued to operate. + +Though the surface of the sea of history seemed motionless, the +movement of humanity went on as unceasingly as the flow of time. +Various groups of people formed and dissolved, the coming formation +and dissolution of kingdoms and displacement of peoples was in +course of preparation. + +The sea of history was not driven spasmodically from shore to +shore as previously. It was seething in its depths. Historic figures +were not borne by the waves from one shore to another as before. +They now seemed to rotate on one spot. The historical figures at the +head of armies, who formerly reflected the movement of the masses by +ordering wars, campaigns, and battles, now reflected the restless +movement by political and diplomatic combinations, laws, and treaties. + +The historians call this activity of the historical figures "the +reaction." + +In dealing with this period they sternly condemn the historical +personages who, in their opinion, caused what they describe as the +reaction. All the well-known people of that period, from Alexander and +Napoleon to Madame de Stael, Photius, Schelling, Fichte, +Chateaubriand, and the rest, pass before their stern judgment seat and +are acquitted or condemned according to whether they conduced to +progress or to reaction. + +According to their accounts a reaction took place at that time in +Russia also, and the chief culprit was Alexander I, the same man who +according to them was the chief cause of the liberal movement at the +commencement of his reign, being the savior of Russia. + +There is no one in Russian literature now, from schoolboy essayist +to learned historian, who does not throw his little stone at Alexander +for things he did wrong at this period of his reign. + +"He ought to have acted in this way and in that way. In this case he +did well and in that case badly. He behaved admirably at the beginning +of his reign and during 1812, but acted badly by giving a constitution +to Poland, forming the Holy Alliance, entrusting power to Arakcheev, +favoring Golitsyn and mysticism, and afterwards Shishkov and +Photius. He also acted badly by concerning himself with the active +army and disbanding the Semenov regiment." + +It would take a dozen pages to enumerate all the reproaches the +historians address to him, based on their knowledge of what is good +for humanity. + +What do these reproaches mean? + +Do not the very actions for which the historians praise Alexander +I (the liberal attempts at the beginning of his reign, his struggle +with Napoleon, the firmness he displayed in 1812 and the campaign of +1813) flow from the same sources- the circumstances of his birth, +education, and life- that made his personality what it was and from +which the actions for which they blame him (the Holy Alliance, the +restoration of Poland, and the reaction of 1820 and later) also +flowed? + +In what does the substance of those reproaches lie? + +It lies in the fact that an historic character like Alexander I, +standing on the highest possible pinnacle of human power with the +blinding light of history focused upon him; a character exposed to +those strongest of all influences: the intrigues, flattery, and +self-deception inseparable from power; a character who at every moment +of his life felt a responsibility for all that was happening in +Europe; and not a fictitious but a live character who like every man +had his personal habits, passions, and impulses toward goodness, +beauty, and truth- that this character- though not lacking in virtue +(the historians do not accuse him of that)- had not the same +conception of the welfare of humanity fifty years ago as a present-day +professor who from his youth upwards has been occupied with +learning: that is, with books and lectures and with taking notes +from them. + +But even if we assume that fifty years ago Alexander I was +mistaken in his view of what was good for the people, we must +inevitably assume that the historian who judges Alexander will also +after the lapse of some time turn out to be mistaken in his view of +what is good for humanity. This assumption is all the more natural and +inevitable because, watching the movement of history, we see that +every year and with each new writer, opinion as to what is good for +mankind changes; so that what once seemed good, ten years later +seems bad, and vice versa. And what is more, we find at one and the +same time quite contradictory views as to what is bad and what is good +in history: some people regard giving a constitution to Poland and +forming the Holy Alliance as praiseworthy in Alexander, while others +regard it as blameworthy. + +The activity of Alexander or of Napoleon cannot be called useful +or harmful, for it is impossible to say for what it was useful or +harmful. If that activity displeases somebody, this is only because it +does not agree with his limited understanding of what is good. Whether +the preservation of my father's house in Moscow, or the glory of the +Russian arms, or the prosperity of the Petersburg and other +universities, or the freedom of Poland or the greatness of Russia, +or the balance of power in Europe, or a certain kind of European +culture called "progress" appear to me to be good or bad, I must admit +that besides these things the action of every historic character has +other more general purposes inaccessible to me. + +But let us assume that what is called science can harmonize all +contradictions and possesses an unchanging standard of good and bad by +which to try historic characters and events; let us say that Alexander +could have done everything differently; let us say that with +guidance from those who blame him and who profess to know the ultimate +aim of the movement of humanity, he might have arranged matters +according to the program his present accusers would have given him- of +nationality, freedom, equality, and progress (these, I think, cover +the ground). Let us assume that this program was possible and had then +been formulated, and that Alexander had acted on it. What would then +have become of the activity of all those who opposed the tendency that +then prevailed in the government- an activity that in the opinion of +the historians was good and beneficent? Their activity would not +have existed: there would have been no life, there would have been +nothing. + +If we admit that human life can be ruled by reason, the +possibility of life is destroyed. + +CHAPTER II + +If we assume as the historians do that great men lead humanity to +the attainment of certain ends- the greatness of Russia or of +France, the balance of power in Europe, the diffusion of the ideas +of the Revolution general progress or anything else- then it is +impossible to explain the facts of history without introducing the +conceptions of chance and genius. + +If the aim of the European wars at the beginning of the nineteenth +century had been the aggrandizement of Russia, that aim might have +been accomplished without all the preceding wars and without the +invasion. If the aim wag the aggrandizement of France, that might have +been attained without the Revolution and without the Empire. If the +aim was the dissemination of ideas, the printing press could have +accomplished that much better than warfare. If the aim was the +progress of civilization, it is easy to see that there are other +ways of diffusing civilization more expedient than by the +destruction of wealth and of human lives. + +Why did it happen in this and not in some other way? + +Because it happened so! "Chance created the situation; genius +utilized it," says history. + +But what is chance? What is genius? + +The words chance and genius do not denote any really existing +thing and therefore cannot be defined. Those words only denote a +certain stage of understanding of phenomena. I do not know why a +certain event occurs; I think that I cannot know it; so I do not try +to know it and I talk about chance. I see a force producing effects +beyond the scope of ordinary human agencies; I do not understand why +this occurs and I talk of genius. + +To a herd of rams, the ram the herdsman drives each evening into a +special enclosure to feed and that becomes twice as fat as the +others must seem to be a genius. And it must appear an astonishing +conjunction of genius with a whole series of extraordinary chances +that this ram, who instead of getting into the general fold every +evening goes into a special enclosure where there are oats- that +this very ram, swelling with fat, is killed for meat. + +But the rams need only cease to suppose that all that happens to +them happens solely for the attainment of their sheepish aims; they +need only admit that what happens to them may also have purposes +beyond their ken, and they will at once perceive a unity and coherence +in what happened to the ram that was fattened. Even if they do not +know for what purpose they are fattened, they will at least know +that all that happened to the ram did not happen accidentally, and +will no longer need the conceptions of chance or genius. + +Only by renouncing our claim to discern a purpose immediately +intelligible to us, and admitting the ultimate purpose to be beyond +our ken, may we discern the sequence of experiences in the lives of +historic characters and perceive the cause of the effect they +produce (incommensurable with ordinary human capabilities), and then +the words chance and genius become superfluous. + +We need only confess that we do not know the purpose of the European +convulsions and that we know only the facts- that is, the murders, +first in France, then in Italy, in Africa, in Prussia, in Austria, +in Spain, and in Russia- and that the movements from the west to the +east and from the east to the west form the essence and purpose of +these events, and not only shall we have no need to see exceptional +ability and genius in Napoleon and Alexander, but we shall be unable +to consider them to be anything but like other men, and we shall not +be obliged to have recourse to chance for an explanation of those +small events which made these people what they were, but it will be +clear that all those small events were inevitable. + +By discarding a claim to knowledge of the ultimate purpose, we shall +clearly perceive that just as one cannot imagine a blossom or seed for +any single plant better suited to it than those it produces, so it +is impossible to imagine any two people more completely adapted down +to the smallest detail for the purpose they had to fulfill, than +Napoleon and Alexander with all their antecedents. + +CHAPTER III + +The fundamental and essential significance of the European events of +the beginning of the nineteenth century lies in the movement of the +mass of the European peoples from west to east and afterwards from +east to west. The commencement of that movement was the movement +from west to east. For the peoples of the west to be able to make +their warlike movement to Moscow it was necessary: (1) that they +should form themselves into a military group of a size able to +endure a collision with the warlike military group of the east, (2) +that they should abandon all established traditions and customs, and +(3) that during their military movement they should have at their head +a man who could justify to himself and to them the deceptions, +robberies, and murders which would have to be committed during that +movement. + +And beginning with the French Revolution the old inadequately +large group was destroyed, as well as the old habits and traditions, +and step by step a group was formed of larger dimensions with new +customs and traditions, and a man was produced who would stand at +the head of the coming movement and bear the responsibility for all +that had to be done. + +A man without convictions, without habits, without traditions, +without a name, and not even a Frenchman, emerges- by what seem the +strangest chances- from among all the seething French parties, and +without joining any one of them is borne forward to a prominent +position. + +The ignorance of his colleagues, the weakness and insignificance +of his opponents, the frankness of his falsehoods, and the dazzling +and self-confident limitations of this man raise him to the head of +the army. The brilliant qualities of the soldiers of the army sent +to Italy, his opponents' reluctance to fight, and his own childish +audacity and self-confidence secure him military fame. Innumerable +so called chances accompany him everywhere. The disfavor into which he +falls with the rulers of France turns to his advantage. His attempts +to avoid his predestined path are unsuccessful: he is not received +into the Russian service, and the appointment he seeks in Turkey comes +to nothing. During the war in Italy he is several times on the verge +of destruction and each time is saved in an unexpected manner. Owing +to various diplomatic considerations the Russian armies- just those +which might have destroyed his prestige- do not appear upon the +scene till he is no longer there. + +On his return from Italy he finds the government in Paris in a +process of dissolution in which all those who are in it are inevitably +wiped out and destroyed. And by chance an escape from this dangerous +position presents itself in the form of an aimless and senseless +expedition to Africa. Again so-called chance accompanies him. +Impregnable Malta surrenders without a shot; his most reckless schemes +are crowned with success. The enemy's fleet, which subsequently did +not let a single boat pass, allows his entire army to elude it. In +Africa a whole series of outrages are committed against the almost +unarmed inhabitants. And the men who commit these crimes, especially +their leader, assure themselves that this is admirable, this is glory- +it resembles Caesar and Alexander the Great and is therefore good. + +This ideal of glory and grandeur- which consists not merely in +considering nothing wrong that one does but in priding oneself on +every crime one commits, ascribing to it an incomprehensible +supernatural significance- that ideal, destined to guide this man +and his associates, had scope for its development in Africa. +Whatever he does succeeds. The plague does not touch him. The +cruelty of murdering prisoners is not imputed to him as a fault. His +childishly rash, uncalled-for, and ignoble departure from Africa, +leaving his comrades in distress, is set down to his credit, and again +the enemy's fleet twice lets him slip past. When, intoxicated by the +crimes he has committed so successfully, he reaches Paris, the +dissolution of the republican government, which a year earlier might +have ruined him, has reached its extreme limit, and his presence there +now as a newcomer free from party entanglements can only serve to +exalt him- and though he himself has no plan, he is quite ready for +his new role. + +He had no plan, he was afraid of everything, but the parties +snatched at him and demanded his participation. + +He alone- with his ideal of glory and grandeur developed in Italy +and Egypt, his insane self-adulation, his boldness in crime and +frankness in lying- he alone could justify what had to be done. + +He is needed for the place that awaits him, and so almost apart from +his will and despite his indecision, his lack of a plan, and all his +mistakes, he is drawn into a conspiracy that aims at seizing power and +the conspiracy is crowned with success. + +He is pushed into a meeting of the legislature. In alarm he wishes +to flee, considering himself lost. He pretends to fall into a swoon +and says senseless things that should have ruined him. But the once +proud and shrewd rulers of France, feeling that their part is played +out, are even more bewildered than he, and do not say the words they +should have said to destroy him and retain their power. + +Chance, millions of chances, give him power, and all men as if by +agreement co-operate to confirm that power. Chance forms the +characters of the rulers of France, who submit to him; chance forms +the character of Paul I of Russia who recognizes his government; +chance contrives a plot against him which not only fails to harm him +but confirms his power. Chance puts the Duc d'Enghien in his hands and +unexpectedly causes him to kill him- thereby convincing the mob more +forcibly than in any other way that he had the right, since he had the +might. Chance contrives that though he directs all his efforts to +prepare an expedition against England (which would inevitably have +ruined him) he never carries out that intention, but unexpectedly +falls upon Mack and the Austrians, who surrender without a battle. +Chance and genius give him the victory at Austerlitz; and by chance +all men, not only the French but all Europe- except England which does +not take part in the events about to happen- despite their former +horror and detestation of his crimes, now recognize his authority, the +title he has given himself, and his ideal of grandeur and glory, which +seems excellent and reasonable to them all. + +As if measuring themselves and preparing for the coming movement, +the western forces push toward the east several times in 1805, 1806, +1807, and 1809, gaining strength and growing. In 1811 the group of +people that had formed in France unites into one group with the +peoples of Central Europe. The strength of the justification of the +man who stands at the head of the movement grows with the increased +size of the group. During the ten-year preparatory period this man had +formed relations with all the crowned heads of Europe. The discredited +rulers of the world can oppose no reasonable ideal to the insensate +Napoleonic ideal of glory and grandeur. One after another they +hasten to display their insignificance before him. The King of Prussia +sends his wife to seek the great man's mercy; the Emperor of Austria +considers it a favor that this man receives a daughter the Caesars +into his bed; the Pope, the guardian of all that the nations hold +sacred, utilizes religion for the aggrandizement of the great man. +It is not Napoleon who prepares himself for the accomplishment of +his role, so much as all those round him who prepare him to take on +himself the whole responsibility for what is happening and has to +happen. There is no step, no crime or petty fraud he commits, which in +the mouths of those around him is not at once represented as a great +deed. The most suitable fete the Germans can devise for him is a +celebration of Jena and Auerstadt. Not only is he great, but so are +his ancestors, his brothers, his stepsons, and his brothers-in-law. +Everything is done to deprive him of the remains of his reason and +to prepare him for his terrible part. And when he is ready so too +are the forces. + +The invasion pushes eastward and reaches its final goal- Moscow. +That city is taken; the Russian army suffers heavier losses than the +opposing armies had suffered in the former war from Austerlitz to +Wagram. But suddenly instead of those chances and that genius which +hitherto had so consistently led him by an uninterrupted series of +successes to the predestined goal, an innumerable sequence of +inverse chances occur- from the cold in his head at Borodino to the +sparks which set Moscow on fire, and the frosts- and instead of +genius, stupidity and immeasurable baseness become evident. + +The invaders flee, turn back, flee again, and all the chances are +now not for Napoleon but always against him. + +A countermovement is then accomplished from east to west with a +remarkable resemblance to the preceding movement from west to east. +Attempted drives from east to west- similar to the contrary +movements of 1805, 1807, and 1809- precede the great westward +movement; there is the same coalescence into a group of enormous +dimensions; the same adhesion of the people of Central Europe to the +movement; the same hesitation midway, and the same increasing rapidity +as the goal is approached. + +Paris, the ultimate goal, is reached. The Napoleonic government +and army are destroyed. Napoleon himself is no longer of any +account; all his actions are evidently pitiful and mean, but again +an inexplicable chance occurs. The allies detest Napoleon whom they +regard as the cause of their sufferings. Deprived of power and +authority, his crimes and his craft exposed, he should have appeared +to them what he appeared ten years previously and one year later- an +outlawed brigand. But by some strange chance no one perceives this. +His part is not yet ended. The man who ten years before and a year +later was considered an outlawed brigand is sent to an island two +days' sail from France, which for some reason is presented to him as +his dominion, and guards are given to him and millions of money are +paid him. + +CHAPTER IV + +The flood of nations begins to subside into its normal channels. The +waves of the great movement abate, and on the calm surface eddies +are formed in which float the diplomatists, who imagine that they have +caused the floods to abate. + +But the smooth sea again suddenly becomes disturbed. The +diplomatists think that their disagreements are the cause of this +fresh pressure of natural forces; they anticipate war between their +sovereigns; the position seems to them insoluble. But the wave they +feel to be rising does not come from the quarter they expect. It rises +again from the same point as before- Paris. The last backwash of the +movement from the west occurs: a backwash which serves to solve the +apparently insuperable diplomatic difficulties and ends the military +movement of that period of history. + +The man who had devastated France returns to France alone, without +any conspiracy and without soldiers. Any guard might arrest him, but +by strange chance no one does so and all rapturously greet the man +they cursed the day before and will curse again a month later. + +This man is still needed to justify the final collective act. + +That act is performed. + +The last role is played. The actor is bidden to disrobe and wash off +his powder and paint: he will not be wanted any more. + +And some years pass during which he plays a pitiful comedy to +himself in solitude on his island, justifying his actions by intrigues +and lies when the justification is no longer needed, and displaying to +the whole world what it was that people had mistaken for strength as +long as an unseen hand directed his actions. + +The manager having brought the drama to a close and stripped the +actor shows him to us. + +"See what you believed in! This is he! Do you now see that it was +not he but I who moved you?" + +But dazed by the force of the movement, it was long before people +understood this. + +Still greater coherence and inevitability is seen in the life of +Alexander I, the man who stood at the head of the countermovement from +east to west. + +What was needed for him who, overshadowing others, stood at the head +of that movement from east to west? + +What was needed was a sense of justice and a sympathy with +European affairs, but a remote sympathy not dulled by petty interests; +a moral superiority over those sovereigns of the day who co-operated +with him; a mild and attractive personality; and a personal +grievance against Napoleon. And all this was found in Alexander I; all +this had been prepared by innumerable so-called chances in his life: +his education, his early liberalism, the advisers who surrounded +him, and by Austerlitz, and Tilsit, and Erfurt. + +During the national war he was inactive because he was not needed. +But as soon as the necessity for a general European war presented +itself he appeared in his place at the given moment and, uniting the +nations of Europe, led them to the goal. + +The goal is reached. After the final war of 1815 Alexander possesses +all possible power. How does he use it? + +Alexander I- the pacifier of Europe, the man who from his early +years had striven only for his people's welfare, the originator of the +liberal innovations in his fatherland- now that he seemed to possess +the utmost power and therefore to have the possibility of bringing +about the welfare of his peoples- at the time when Napoleon in exile +was drawing up childish and mendacious plans of how he would have made +mankind happy had he retained power- Alexander I, having fulfilled his +mission and feeling the hand of God upon him, suddenly recognizes +the insignificance of that supposed power, turns away from it, and +gives it into the hands of contemptible men whom he despises, saying +only: + +"Not unto us, not unto us, but unto Thy Name!... I too am a man like +the rest of you. Let me live like a man and think of my soul and of +God." + +As the sun and each atom of ether is a sphere complete in itself, +and yet at the same time only a part of a whole too immense for man to +comprehend, so each individual has within himself his own aims and yet +has them to serve a general purpose incomprehensible to man. + +A bee settling on a flower has stung a child. And the child is +afraid of bees and declares that bees exist to sting people. A poet +admires the bee sucking from the chalice of a flower and says it +exists to suck the fragrance of flowers. A beekeeper, seeing the bee +collect pollen from flowers and carry it to the hive, says that it +exists to gather honey. Another beekeeper who has studied the life +of the hive more closely says that the bee gathers pollen dust to feed +the young bees and rear a queen, and that it exists to perpetuate +its race. A botanist notices that the bee flying with the pollen of +a male flower to a pistil fertilizes the latter, and sees in this +the purpose of the bee's existence. Another, observing the migration +of plants, notices that the bee helps in this work, and may say that +in this lies the purpose of the bee. But the ultimate purpose of the +bee is not exhausted by the first, the second, or any of the processes +the human mind can discern. The higher the human intellect rises in +the discovery of these purposes, the more obvious it becomes, that the +ultimate purpose is beyond our comprehension. + +All that is accessible to man is the relation of the life of the bee +to other manifestations of life. And so it is with the purpose of +historic characters and nations. + +CHAPTER V + +Natasha's wedding to Bezukhov, which took place in 1813, was the +last happy event in the family of the old Rostovs. Count Ilya Rostov +died that same year and, as always happens, after the father's death +the family group broke up. + +The events of the previous year: the burning of Moscow and the +flight from it, the death of Prince Andrew, Natasha's despair, Petya's +death, and the old countess' grief fell blow after blow on the old +count's head. He seemed to be unable to understand the meaning of +all these events, and bowed his old head in a spiritual sense as if +expecting and inviting further blows which would finish him. He seemed +now frightened and distraught and now unnaturally animated and +enterprising. + +The arrangements for Natasha's marriage occupied him for a while. He +ordered dinners and suppers and obviously tried to appear cheerful, +but his cheerfulness was not infectious as it used to be: on the +contrary it evoked the compassion of those who knew and liked him. + +When Pierre and his wife had left, he grew very quiet and began to +complain of depression. A few days later he fell ill and took to his +bed. He realized from the first that he would not get up again, +despite the doctor's encouragement. The countess passed a fortnight in +an armchair by his pillow without undressing. Every time she gave +him his medicine he sobbed and silently kissed her hand. On his last +day, sobbing, he asked her and his absent son to forgive him for +having dissipated their property- that being the chief fault of +which he was conscious. After receiving communion and unction he +quietly died; and next day a throng of acquaintances who came to pay +their last respects to the deceased filled the house rented by the +Rostovs. All these acquaintances, who had so often dined and danced at +his house and had so often laughed at him, now said, with a common +feeling of self-reproach and emotion, as if justifying themselves: +"Well, whatever he may have been he was a most worthy man. You don't +meet such men nowadays.... And which of us has not weaknesses of his +own?" + +It was just when the count's affairs had become so involved that +it was impossible to say what would happen if he lived another year +that he unexpectedly died. + +Nicholas was with the Russian army in Paris when the news of his +father's death reached him. He at once resigned his commission, and +without waiting for it to be accepted took leave of absence and went +to Moscow. The state of the count's affairs became quite obvious a +month after his death, surprising everyone by the immense total of +small debts the existence of which no one had suspected. The debts +amounted to double the value of the property. + +Friends and relations advised Nicholas to decline the inheritance. +But he regarded such a refusal as a slur on his father's memory, which +he held sacred, and therefore would not hear of refusing and +accepted the inheritance together with the obligation to pay the +debts. + +The creditors who had so long been silent, restrained by a vague but +powerful influence exerted on them while he lived by the count's +careless good nature, all proceeded to enforce their claims at once. +As always happens in such cases rivalry sprang up as to which should +get paid first, and those who like Mitenka held promissory notes given +them as presents now became the most exacting of the creditors. +Nicholas was allowed no respite and no peace, and those who had seemed +to pity the old man- the cause of their losses (if they were +losses)- now remorselessly pursued the young heir who had +voluntarily undertaken the debts and was obviously not guilty of +contracting them. + +Not one of the plans Nicholas tried succeeded; the estate was sold +by auction for half its value, and half the debts still remained +unpaid. Nicholas accepted thirty thousand rubles offered him by his +brother-in-law Bezukhov to pay off debts he regarded as genuinely +due for value received. And to avoid being imprisoned for the +remainder, as the creditors threatened, he re-entered the government +service. + +He could not rejoin the army where he would have been made colonel +at the next vacancy, for his mother now clung to him as her one hold +on life; and so despite his reluctant to remain in Moscow among people +who had known him before, and despite his abhorrence of the civil +service, he accepted a post in Moscow in that service, doffed the +uniform of which he was so fond, and moved with his mother and Sonya +to a small house on the Sivtsev Vrazhek. + +Natasha and Pierre were living in Petersburg at the time and had +no clear idea of Nicholas' circumstances. Having borrowed money from +his brother-in-law, Nicholas tried to hide his wretched condition from +him. His position was the more difficult because with his salary of +twelve hundred rubles he had not only to keep himself, his mother, and +Sonya, but had to shield his mother from knowledge of their poverty. +The countess could not conceive of life without the luxurious +conditions she had been used to from childhood and, unable to +realize how hard it was for her son, kept demanding now a carriage +(which they did not keep) to send for a friend, now some expensive +article of food for herself, or wine for her son, or money to buy a +present as a surprise for Natasha or Sonya, or for Nicholas himself. + +Sonya kept house, attended on her aunt, read to her, put up with her +whims and secret ill-will, and helped Nicholas to conceal their +poverty from the old countess. Nicholas felt himself irredeemably +indebted to Sonya for all she was doing for his mother and greatly +admired her patience and devotion, but tried to keep aloof from her. + +He seemed in his heart to reproach her for being too perfect, and +because there was nothing to reproach her with. She had all that +people are valued for, but little that could have made him love her. +He felt that the more he valued her the less he loved her. He had +taken her at her word when she wrote giving him his freedom and now +behaved as if all that had passed between them had been long forgotten +and could never in any case be renewed. + +Nicholas' position became worse and worse. The idea of putting +something aside out of his salary proved a dream. Not only did he +not save anything, but to comply with his mother's demands he even +incurred some small debts. He could see no way out of this +situation. The idea of marrying some rich woman, which was suggested +to him by his female relations, was repugnant to him. The other way +out- his mother's death- never entered his head. He wished for nothing +and hoped for nothing, and deep in his heart experienced a gloomy +and stern satisfaction in an uncomplaining endurance of his +position. He tried to avoid his old acquaintances with their +commiseration and offensive offers of assistance; he avoided all +distraction and recreation, and even at home did nothing but play +cards with his mother, pace silently up and down the room, and smoke +one pipe after another. He seemed carefully to cherish within +himself the gloomy mood which alone enabled him to endure his +position. + +CHAPTER VI + +At the beginning of winter Princess Mary came to Moscow. From +reports current in town she learned how the Rostovs were situated, and +how "the son has sacrificed himself for his mother," as people were +saying. + +"I never expected anything else of him," said Princess Mary to +herself, feeling a joyous sense of her love for him. Remembering her +friendly relations with all the Rostovs which had made her almost a +member of the family, she thought it her duty to go to see them. But +remembering her relations with Nicholas in Voronezh she was shy +about doing so. Making a great effort she did however go to call on +them a few weeks after her arrival in Moscow. + +Nicholas was the first to meet her, as the countess' room could only +be reached through his. But instead of being greeted with pleasure +as she had expected, at his first glance at her his face assumed a +cold, stiff, proud expression she had not seen on it before. He +inquired about her health, led the way to his mother, and having sat +there for five minutes left the room. + +When the princess came out of the countess' room Nicholas met her +again, and with marked solemnity and stiffness accompanied her to +the anteroom. To her remarks about his mother's health he made no +reply. "What's that to you? Leave me in peace," his looks seemed to +say. + +"Why does she come prowling here? What does she want? I can't bear +these ladies and all these civilities!" said he aloud in Sonya's +presence, evidently unable to repress his vexation, after the +princess' carriage had disappeared. + +"Oh, Nicholas, how can you talk like that?" cried Sonya, hardly able +to conceal her delight. "She is so kind and Mamma is so fond of her!" + +Nicholas did not reply and tried to avoid speaking of the princess +any more. But after her visit the old countess spoke of her several +times a day. + +She sang her praises, insisted that her son must call on her, +expressed a wish to see her often, but yet always became ill-humored +when she began to talk about her. + +Nicholas tried to keep silence when his mother spoke of the +princess, but his silence irritated her. + +"She is a very admirable and excellent young woman," said she, +"and you must go and call on her. You would at least be seeing +somebody, and I think it must be dull for you only seeing us." + +"But I don't in the least want to, Mamma." + +"You used to want to, and now you don't. Really I don't understand +you, my dear. One day you are dull, and the next you refuse to see +anyone." + +"But I never said I was dull." + +"Why, you said yourself you don't want even to see her. She is a +very admirable young woman and you always liked her, but now +suddenly you have got some notion or other in your head. You hide +everything from me." + +"Not at all, Mamma." + +"If I were asking you to do something disagreeable now- but I only +ask you to return a call. One would think mere politeness required +it.... Well, I have asked you, and now I won't interfere any more +since you have secrets from your mother." + +"Well, then, I'll go if you wish it." + +"It doesn't matter to me. I only wish it for your sake." + +Nicholas sighed, bit his mustache, and laid out the cards for a +patience, trying to divert his mother's attention to another topic. + +The same conversation was repeated next day and the day after, and +the day after that. + +After her visit to the Rostovs and her unexpectedly chilly reception +by Nicholas, Princess Mary confessed to herself that she had been +right in not wishing to be the first to call. + +"I expected nothing else," she told herself, calling her pride to +her aid. "I have nothing to do with him and I only wanted to see the +old lady, who was always kind to me and to whom I am under many +obligations." + +But she could not pacify herself with these reflections; a feeling +akin to remorse troubled her when she thought of her visit. Though she +had firmly resolved not to call on the Rostovs again and to forget the +whole matter, she felt herself all the time in an awkward position. +And when she asked herself what distressed her, she had to admit +that it was her relation to Rostov. His cold, polite manner did not +express his feeling for her (she knew that) but it concealed +something, and until she could discover what that something was, she +felt that she could not be at ease. + +One day in midwinter when sitting in the schoolroom attending to her +nephew's lessons, she was informed that Rostov had called. With a firm +resolution not to betray herself and not show her agitation, she +sent for Mademoiselle Bourienne and went with her to the drawing room. + +Her first glance at Nicholas' face told her that he had only come to +fulfill the demands of politeness, and she firmly resolved to maintain +the tone in which he addressed her. + +They spoke of the countess' health, of their mutual friends, of +the latest war news, and when the ten minutes required by propriety +had elapsed after which a visitor may rise, Nicholas got up to say +good-by. + +With Mademoiselle Bourienne's help the princess had maintained the +conversation very well, but at the very last moment, just when he +rose, she was so tired of talking of what did not interest her, and +her mind was so full of the question why she alone was granted so +little happiness in life, that in a fit of absent-mindedness she sat +still, her luminous eyes gazing fixedly before her, not noticing +that he had risen. + +Nicholas glanced at her and, wishing to appear not to notice her +abstraction, made some remark to Mademoiselle Bourienne and then again +looked at the princess. She still sat motionless with a look of +suffering on her gentle face. He suddenly felt sorry for her and was +vaguely conscious that he might be the cause of the sadness her face +expressed. He wished to help her and say something pleasant, but could +think of nothing to say. + +"Good-by, Princess!" said he. + +She started, flushed, and sighed deeply. + +"Oh, I beg your pardon," she said as if waking up. "Are you going +already, Count? Well then, good-by! Oh, but the cushion for the +countess!" + +"Wait a moment, I'll fetch it," said Mademoiselle Bourienne, and she +left the room. + +They both sat silent, with an occasional glance at one another. + +"Yes, Princess," said Nicholas at last with a sad smile, "it doesn't +seem long ago since we first met at Bogucharovo, but how much water +has flowed since then! In what distress we all seemed to be then, +yet I would give much to bring back that time... but there's no +bringing it back." + +Princess Mary gazed intently into his eyes with her own luminous +ones as he said this. She seemed to be trying to fathom the hidden +meaning of his words which would explain his feeling for her. + +"Yes, yes," said she, "but you have no reason to regret the past, +Count. As I understand your present life, I think you will always +recall it with satisfaction, because the self-sacrifice that fills +it now..." + +"I cannot accept your praise," he interrupted her hurriedly. "On the +contrary I continually reproach myself.... But this is not at all an +interesting or cheerful subject." + +His face again resumed its former stiff and cold expression. But the +princess had caught a glimpse of the man she had known and loved, +and it was to him that she now spoke. + +"I thought you would allow me to tell you this," she said. "I had +come so near to you... and to all your family that I thought you would +not consider my sympathy misplaced, but I was mistaken," and +suddenly her voice trembled. "I don't know why," she continued, +recovering herself, "but you used to be different, and..." + +"There are a thousand reasons why," laying special emphasis on the +why. "Thank you, Princess," he added softly. "Sometimes it is hard." + +"So that's why! That's why!" a voice whispered in Princess Mary's +soul. "No, it was not only that gay, kind, and frank look, not only +that handsome exterior, that I loved in him. I divined his noble, +resolute, self-sacrificing spirit too," she said to herself. "Yes, +he is poor now and I am rich.... Yes, that's the only reason.... +Yes, were it not for that..." And remembering his former tenderness, +and looking now at his kind, sorrowful face, she suddenly understood +the cause of his coldness. + +"But why, Count, why?" she almost cried, unconsciously moving closer +to him. "Why? Tell me. You must tell me!" + +He was silent. + +"I don't understand your why, Count," she continued, "but it's +hard for me... I confess it. For some reason you wish to deprive me of +our former friendship. And that hurts me." There were tears in her +eyes and in her voice. "I have had so little happiness in life that +every loss is hard for me to bear.... Excuse me, good-by!" and +suddenly she began to cry and was hurrying from the room. + +"Princess, for God's sake!" he exclaimed, trying to stop her. +"Princess!" + +She turned round. For a few seconds they gazed silently into one +another's eyes- and what had seemed impossible and remote suddenly +became possible, inevitable, and very near. + +CHAPTER VII + +In the winter of 1813 Nicholas married Princess Mary and moved to +Bald Hills with his wife, his mother, and Sonya. + +Within four years he had paid off all his remaining debts without +selling any of his wife's property, and having received a small +inheritance on the death of a cousin he paid his debt to Pierre as +well. + +In another three years, by 1820, he had so managed his affairs +that he was able to buy a small estate adjoining Bald Hills and was +negotiating to buy back Otradnoe- that being his pet dream. + +Having started farming from necessity, he soon grew so devoted to it +that it became his favorite and almost his sole occupation. Nicholas +was a plain farmer: he did not like innovations, especially the +English ones then coming into vogue. He laughed at theoretical +treatises on estate management, disliked factories, the raising of +expensive products, and the buying of expensive seed corn, and did not +make a hobby of any particular part of the work on his estate. He +always had before his mind's eye the estate as a whole and not any +particular part of it. The chief thing in his eyes was not the +nitrogen in the soil, nor the oxygen in the air, nor manures, nor +special plows, but that most important agent by which nitrogen, +oxygen, manure, and plow were made effective- the peasant laborer. +When Nicholas first began farming and began to understand its +different branches, it was the serf who especially attracted his +attention. The peasant seemed to him not merely a tool, but also a +judge of farming and an end in himself. At first he watched the serfs, +trying to understand their aims and what they considered good and bad, +and only pretended to direct them and give orders while in reality +learning from them their methods, their manner of speech, and their +judgment of what was good and bad. Only when he had understood the +peasants' tastes and aspirations, had learned to talk their +language, to grasp the hidden meaning of their words, and felt akin to +them did he begin boldly to manage his serfs, that is, to perform +toward them the duties demanded of him. And Nicholas' management +produced very brilliant results. + +Guided by some gift of insight, on taking up the management of the +estates he at once unerringly appointed as bailiff, village elder, and +delegate, the very men the serfs would themselves have chosen had they +had the right to choose, and these posts never changed hands. Before +analyzing the properties of manure, before entering into the debit and +credit (as he ironically called it), he found out how many cattle +the peasants had and increased the number by all possible means. He +kept the peasant families together in the largest groups possible, not +allowing the family groups to divide into separate households. He +was hard alike on the lazy, the depraved, and the weak, and tried to +get them expelled from the commune. + +He was as careful of the sowing and reaping of the peasants' hay and +corn as of his own, and few landowners had their crops sown and +harvested so early and so well, or got so good a return, as did +Nicholas. + +He disliked having anything to do with the domestic serfs- the +"drones" as he called them- and everyone said he spoiled them by his +laxity. When a decision had to be taken regarding a domestic serf, +especially if one had to be punished, he always felt undecided and +consulted everybody in the house; but when it was possible to have a +domestic serf conscripted instead of a land worker he did so without +the least hesitation. He never felt any hesitation in dealing with the +peasants. He knew that his every decision would be approved by them +all with very few exceptions. + +He did not allow himself either to be hard on or punish a man, or to +make things easy for or reward anyone, merely because he felt inclined +to do so. He could not have said by what standard he judged what he +should or should not do, but the standard was quite firm and +definite in his own mind. + +Often, speaking with vexation of some failure or irregularity, he +would say: "What can one do with our Russian peasants?" and imagined +that he could not bear them. + +Yet he loved "our Russian peasants" and their way of life with his +whole soul, and for that very reason had understood and assimilated +the one way and manner of farming which produced good results. + +Countess Mary was jealous of this passion of her husband's and +regretted that she could not share it; but she could not understand +the joys and vexations he derived from that world, to her so remote +and alien. She could not understand why he was so particularly +animated and happy when, after getting up at daybreak and spending the +whole morning in the fields or on the threshing floor, he returned +from the sowing or mowing or reaping to have tea with her. She did not +understand why he spoke with such admiration and delight of the +farming of the thrifty and well-to-do peasant Matthew Ermishin, who +with his family had carted corn all night; or of the fact that his +(Nicholas') sheaves were already stacked before anyone else had his +harvest in. She did not understand why he stepped out from the +window to the veranda and smiled under his mustache and winked so +joyfully, when warm steady rain began to fall on the dry and thirsty +shoots of the young oats, or why when the wind carried away a +threatening cloud during the hay harvest he would return from the +barn, flushed, sunburned, and perspiring, with a smell of wormwood and +gentian in his hair and, gleefully rubbing his hands, would say: +"Well, one more day and my grain and the peasants' will all be under +cover." + +Still less did she understand why he, kindhearted and always ready +to anticipate her wishes, should become almost desperate when she +brought him a petition from some peasant men or women who had appealed +to her to be excused some work; why he, that kind Nicholas, should +obstinately refuse her, angrily asking her not to interfere in what +was not her business. She felt he had a world apart, which he loved +passionately and which had laws she had not fathomed. + +Sometimes when, trying to understand him, she spoke of the good work +he was doing for his serfs, he would be vexed and reply: "Not in the +least; it never entered my head and I wouldn't do that for their good! +That's all poetry and old wives' talk- all that doing good to one's +neighbor! What I want is that our children should not have to go +begging. I must put our affairs in order while I am alive, that's all. +And to do that, order and strictness are essential.... That's all +about it!" said he, clenching his vigorous fist. "And fairness, of +course," he added, "for if the peasant is naked and hungry and has +only one miserable horse, he can do no good either for himself or +for me." + +And all Nicholas did was fruitful- probably just because he +refused to allow himself to think that he was doing good to others for +virtue's sake. His means increased rapidly; serfs from neighboring +estates came to beg him to buy them, and long after his death the +memory of his administration was devoutly preserved among the serfs. +"He was a master... the peasants' affairs first and then his own. Of +course he was not to be trifled with either- in a word, he was a +real master!" + +CHAPTER VIII + +One matter connected with his management sometimes worried Nicholas, +and that was his quick temper together with his old hussar habit of +making free use of his fists. At first he saw nothing reprehensible in +this, but in the second year of his marriage his view of that form +of punishment suddenly changed. + +Once in summer he had sent for the village elder from Bogucharovo, a +man who had succeeded to the post when Dron died and who was accused +of dishonesty and various irregularities. Nicholas went out into the +porch to question him, and immediately after the elder had given a few +replies the sound of cries and blows were heard. On returning to lunch +Nicholas went up to his wife, who sat with her head bent low over +her embroidery frame, and as usual began to tell her what he had +been doing that morning. Among other things he spoke of the +Bogucharovo elder. Countess Mary turned red and then pale, but +continued to sit with head bowed and lips compressed and gave her +husband no reply. + +"Such an insolent scoundrel!" he cried, growing hot again at the +mere recollection of him. "If he had told me he was drunk and did +not see... But what is the matter with you, Mary?" he suddenly asked. + +Countess Mary raised her head and tried to speak, but hastily looked +down again and her lips puckered. + +"Why, whatever is the matter, my dearest?" + +The looks of the plain Countess Mary always improved when she was in +tears. She never cried from pain or vexation, but always from sorrow +or pity, and when she wept her radiant eyes acquired an irresistible +charm. + +The moment Nicholas took her hand she could no longer restrain +herself and began to cry. + +"Nicholas, I saw it... he was to blame, but why do you... Nicholas!" +and she covered her face with her hands. + +Nicholas said nothing. He flushed crimson, left her side, and +paced up and down the room. He understood what she was weeping +about, but could not in his heart at once agree with her that what +he had regarded from childhood as quite an everyday event was wrong. +"Is it just sentimentality, old wives' tales, or is she right?" he +asked himself. Before he had solved that point he glanced again at her +face filled with love and pain, and he suddenly realized that she +was right and that he had long been sinning against himself. + +"Mary," he said softly, going up to her, "it will never happen +again; I give you my word. Never," he repeated in a trembling voice +like a boy asking for forgiveness. + +The tears flowed faster still from the countess' eyes. She took +his hand and kissed it. + +"Nicholas, when when did you break your cameo?" she asked to +change the subject, looking at his finger on which he wore a ring with +a cameo of Laocoon's head. + +"Today- it was the same affair. Oh, Mary, don't remind me of it!" +and again he flushed. "I give you my word of honor it shan't occur +again, and let this always be a reminder to me," and he pointed to the +broken ring. + +After that, when in discussions with his village elders or +stewards the blood rushed to his face and his fists began to clench, +Nicholas would turn the broken ring on his finger and would drop his +eyes before the man who was making him angry. But he did forget +himself once or twice within a twelvemonth, and then he would go and +confess to his wife, and would again promise that this should really +be the very last time. + +"Mary, you must despise me!" he would say. "I deserve it." + +"You should go, go away at once, if you don't feel strong enough +to control yourself," she would reply sadly, trying to comfort her +husband. + +Among the gentry of the province Nicholas was respected but not +liked. He did not concern himself with the interests of his own class, +and consequently some thought him proud and others thought him stupid. +The whole summer, from spring sowing to harvest, he was busy with +the work on his farm. In autumn he gave himself up to hunting with the +same business like seriousness- leaving home for a month, or even two, +with his hunt. In winter he visited his other villages or spent his +time reading. The books he read were chiefly historical, and on +these he spent a certain sum every year. He was collecting, as he +said, a serious library, and he made it a rule to read through all the +books he bought. He would sit in his study with a grave air, +reading- a task he first imposed upon himself as a duty, but which +afterwards became a habit affording him a special kind of pleasure and +a consciousness of being occupied with serious matters. In winter, +except for business excursions, he spent most of his time at home +making himself one with his family and entering into all the details +of his children's relations with their mother. The harmony between him +and his wife grew closer and closer and he daily discovered fresh +spiritual treasures in her. + +From the time of his marriage Sonya had lived in his house. Before +that, Nicholas had told his wife all that had passed between himself +and Sonya, blaming himself and commending her. He had asked Princess +Mary to be gentle and kind to his cousin. She thoroughly realized +the wrong he had done Sonya, felt herself to blame toward her, and +imagined that her wealth had influenced Nicholas' choice. She could +not find fault with Sonya in any way and tried to be fond of her, +but often felt ill-will toward her which she could not overcome. + +Once she had a talk with her friend Natasha about Sonya and about +her own injustice toward her. + +"You know," said Natasha, "you have read the Gospels a great deal- +there is a passage in them that just fits Sonya." + +"What?" asked Countess Mary, surprised. + +"'To him that hath shall be given, and from him that hath not +shall be taken away.' You remember? She is one that hath not; why, I +don't know. Perhaps she lacks egotism, I don't know, but from her is +taken away, and everything has been taken away. Sometimes I am +dreadfully sorry for her. Formerly I very much wanted Nicholas to +marry her, but I always had a sort of presentiment that it would not +come off. She is a sterile flower, you know- like some strawberry +blossoms. Sometimes I am sorry for her, and sometimes I think she +doesn't feel it as you or I would." + +Though Countess Mary told Natasha that those words in the Gospel +must be understood differently, yet looking at Sonya she agreed with +Natasha's explanation. It really seemed that Sonya did not feel her +position trying, and had grown quite reconciled to her lot as a +sterile flower. She seemed to be fond not so much of individuals as of +the family as a whole. Like a cat, she had attached herself not to the +people but to the home. She waited on the old countess, petted and +spoiled the children, was always ready to render the small services +for which she had a gift, and all this was unconsciously accepted from +her with insufficient gratitude. + +The country seat at Bald Hills had been rebuilt, though not on the +same scale as under the old prince. + +The buildings, begun under straitened circumstances, were more +than simple. The immense house on the old stone foundations was of +wood, plastered only inside. It had bare deal floors and was furnished +with very simple hard sofas, armchairs, tables, and chairs made by +their own serf carpenters out of their own birchwood. The house was +spacious and had rooms for the house serfs and apartments for +visitors. Whole families of the Rostovs' and Bolkonskis' relations +sometimes came to Bald Hills with sixteen horses and dozens of +servants and stayed for months. Besides that, four times a year, on +the name days and birthdays of the hosts, as many as a hundred +visitors would gather there for a day or two. The rest of the year +life pursued its unbroken routine with its ordinary occupations, and +its breakfasts, lunches, dinners, and suppers, provided out of the +produce of the estate. + +CHAPTER IX + +It was the eve of St. Nicholas, the fifth of December, 1820. Natasha +had been staying at her brother's with her husband and children +since early autumn. Pierre had gone to Petersburg on business of his +own for three weeks as he said, but had remained there nearly seven +weeks and was expected back every minute. + +Besides the Bezukhov family, Nicholas' old friend the retired +General Vasili Dmitrich Denisov was staying with the Rostovs this +fifth of December. + +On the sixth, which was his name day when the house would be full of +visitors, Nicholas knew he would have to exchange his Tartar tunic for +a tail coat, and put on narrow boots with pointed toes, and drive to +the new church he had built, and then receive visitors who would +come to congratulate him, offer them refreshments, and talk about +the elections of the nobility; but he considered himself entitled to +spend the eve of that day in his usual way. He examined the +bailiff's accounts of the village in Ryazan which belonged to his +wife's nephew, wrote two business letters, and walked over to the +granaries, cattle yards and stables before dinner. Having taken +precautions against the general drunkenness to be expected on the +morrow because it was a great saint's day, he returned to dinner, +and without having time for a private talk with his wife sat down at +the long table laid for twenty persons, at which the whole household +had assembled. At that table were his mother, his mother's old lady +companion Belova, his wife, their three children with their +governess and tutor, his wife's nephew with his tutor, Sonya, Denisov, +Natasha, her three children, their governess, and old Michael +Ivanovich, the late prince's architect, who was living on in +retirement at Bald Hills. + +Countess Mary sat at the other end of the table. When her husband +took his place she concluded, from the rapid manner in which after +taking up his table napkin he pushed back the tumbler and wineglass +standing before him, that he was out of humor, as was sometimes the +case when he came in to dinner straight from the farm- especially +before the soup. Countess Mary well knew that mood of his, and when +she herself was in a good frame of mind quietly waited till he had had +his soup and then began to talk to him and make him admit that there +was no cause for his ill-humor. But today she quite forgot that and +was hurt that he should be angry with her without any reason, and +she felt unhappy. She asked him where he had been. He replied. She +again inquired whether everything was going well on the farm. Her +unnatural tone made him wince unpleasantly and he replied hastily. + +"Then I'm not mistaken," thought Countess Mary. "Why is he cross +with me?" She concluded from his tone that he was vexed with her and +wished to end the conversation. She knew her remarks sounded +unnatural, but could not refrain from asking some more questions. + +Thanks to Denisov the conversation at table soon became general +and lively, and she did not talk to her husband. When they left the +table and went as usual to thank the old countess, Countess Mary +held out her hand and kissed her husband, and asked him why he was +angry with her. + +"You always have such strange fancies! I didn't even think of +being angry," he replied. + +But the word always seemed to her to imply: "Yes, I am angry but I +won't tell you why." + +Nicholas and his wife lived together so happily that even Sonya +and the old countess, who felt jealous and would have liked them to +disagree, could find nothing to reproach them with; but even they +had their moments of antagonism. Occasionally, and it was always +just after they had been happiest together, they suddenly had a +feeling of estrangement and hostility, which occurred most +frequently during Countess Mary's pregnancies, and this was such a +time. + +"Well, messieurs et mesdames," said Nicholas loudly and with +apparent cheerfulness (it seemed to Countess Mary that he did it on +purpose to vex her), "I have been on my feet since six this morning. +Tomorrow I shall have to suffer, so today I'll go and rest." + +And without a word to his wife he went to the little sitting room +and lay down on the sofa. + +"That's always the way," thought Countess Mary. "He talks to +everyone except me. I see... I see that I am repulsive to him, +especially when I am in this condition." She looked down at her +expanded figure and in the glass at her pale, sallow, emaciated face +in which her eyes now looked larger than ever. + +And everything annoyed her- Denisov's shouting and laughter, +Natasha's talk, and especially a quick glance Sonya gave her. + +Sonya was always the first excuse Countess Mary found for feeling +irritated. + +Having sat awhile with her visitors without understanding anything +of what they were saying, she softly left the room and went to the +nursery. + +The children were playing at "going to Moscow" in a carriage made of +chairs and invited her to go with them. She sat down and played with +them a little, but the thought of her husband and his unreasonable +crossness worried her. She got up and, walking on tiptoe with +difficulty, went to the small sitting room. + +"Perhaps he is not asleep; I'll have an explanation with him," she +said to herself. Little Andrew, her eldest boy, imitating his +mother, followed her on tiptoe. She not notice him. + +"Mary, dear, I think he is asleep- he was so tired," said Sonya, +meeting her in the large sitting room (it seemed to Countess Mary that +she crossed her path everywhere). "Andrew may wake him." + +Countess Mary looked round, saw little Andrew following her, felt +that Sonya was right, and for that very reason flushed and with +evident difficulty refrained from saying something harsh. She made +no reply, but to avoid obeying Sonya beckoned to Andrew to follow +her quietly and went to the door. Sonya went away by another door. +From the room in which Nicholas was sleeping came the sound of his +even breathing, every slightest tone of which was familiar to his +wife. As she listened to it she saw before her his smooth handsome +forehead, his mustache, and his whole face, as she had so often seen +it in the stillness of the night when he slept. Nicholas suddenly +moved and cleared his throat. And at that moment little Andrew shouted +from outside the door: "Papa! Mamma's standing here!" Countess Mary +turned pale with fright and made signs to the boy. He grew silent, and +quiet ensued for a moment, terrible to Countess Mary. She knew how +Nicholas disliked being waked. Then through the door she heard +Nicholas clearing his throat again and stirring, and his voice said +crossly: + +"I can't get a moment's peace.... Mary, is that you? Why did you +bring him here?" + +"I only came in to look and did not notice... forgive me..." + +Nicholas coughed and said no more. Countess Mary moved away from the +door and took the boy back to the nursery. Five minutes later little +black-eyed three-year-old Natasha, her father's pet, having learned +from her brother that Papa was asleep and Mamma was in the sitting +room, ran to her father unobserved by her mother. The dark-eyed little +girl boldly opened the creaking door, went up to the sofa with +energetic steps of her sturdy little legs, and having examined the +position of her father, who was asleep with his back to her, rose on +tiptoe and kissed the hand which lay under his head. Nicholas turned +with a tender smile on his face. + +"Natasha, Natasha!" came Countess Mary's frightened whisper from the +door. "Papa wants to sleep." + +"No, Mamma, he doesn't want to sleep," said little Natasha with +conviction. "He's laughing." + +Nicholas lowered his legs, rose, and took his daughter in his arms. + +"Come in, Mary," he said to his wife. + +She went in and sat down by her husband. + +"I did not notice him following me," she said timidly. "I just +looked in." + +Holding his little girl with one arm, Nicholas glanced at his wife +and, seeing her guilty expression, put his other arm around her and +kissed her hair. + +"May I kiss Mamma?" he asked Natasha. + +Natasha smiled bashfully. + +"Again!" she commanded, pointing with a peremptory gesture to the +spot where Nicholas had placed the kiss. + +"I don't know why you think I am cross," said Nicholas, replying +to the question he knew was in his wife's mind. + +"You have no idea how unhappy, how lonely, I feel when you are +like that. It always seems to me... " + +"Mary, don't talk nonsense. You ought to be ashamed of yourself!" he +said gaily. + +"It seems to be that you can't love me, that I am so plain... +always... and now... in this cond..." + +"Oh, how absurd you are! It is not beauty that endears, it's love +that makes us see beauty. It is only Malvinas and women of that kind +who are loved for their beauty. But do I love my wife? I don't love +her, but... I don't know how to put it. Without you, or when something +comes between us like this, I seem lost and can't do anything. Now +do I love my finger? I don't love it, but just try to cut it off! + +"I'm not like that myself, but I understand. So you're not angry +with me?" + +"Awfully angry!" he said, smiling and getting up. And smoothing +his hair he began to pace the room. + +"Do you know, Mary, what I've been thinking?" he began, +immediately thinking aloud in his wife's presence now that they had +made it up. + +He did not ask if she was ready to listen to him. He did not care. A +thought had occurred to him and so it belonged to her also. And he +told her of his intention to persuade Pierre to stay with them till +spring. + +Countess Mary listened till he had finished, made some remark, and +in her turn began thinking aloud. Her thoughts were about the +children. + +"You can see the woman in her already," she said in French, pointing +to little Natasha. "You reproach us women with being illogical. Here +is our logic. I say: 'Papa wants to sleep!' but she says, 'No, he's +laughing.' And she was right," said Countess Mary with a happy smile. + +"Yes, yes." And Nicholas, taking his little daughter in his strong +hand, lifted her high, placed her on his shoulder, held her by the +legs, and paced the room with her. There was an expression of carefree +happiness on the faces of both father and daughter. + +"But you know you may be unfair. You are too fond of this one," +his wife whispered in French. + +"Yes, but what am I to do?... I try not to show..." + +At that moment they heard the sound of the door pulley and footsteps +in the hall and anteroom, as if someone had arrived. + +"Somebody has come." + +"I am sure it is Pierre. I will go and see," said Countess Mary +and left the room. + +In her absence Nicholas allowed himself to give his little +daughter a gallop round the room. Out of breath, he took the +laughing child quickly from his shoulder and pressed her to his heart. +His capers reminded him of dancing, and looking at the child's round +happy little face he thought of what she would be like when he was +an old man, taking her into society and dancing the mazurka with her +as his old father had danced Daniel Cooper with his daughter. + +"It is he, it is he, Nicholas!" said Countess Mary, re-entering +the room a few minutes later. "Now our Natasha has come to life. You +should have seen her ecstasy, and how he caught it for having stayed +away so long. Well, come along now, quick, quick! It's time you two +were parted," she added, looking smilingly at the little girl who +clung to her father. + +Nicholas went out holding the child by the hand. + +Countess Mary remained in the sitting room. + +"I should never, never have believed that one could be so happy," +she whispered to herself. A smile lit up her face but at the same time +she sighed, and her deep eyes expressed a quiet sadness as though +she felt, through her happiness, that there is another sort of +happiness unattainable in this life and of which she involuntarily +thought at that instant. + +CHAPTER X + +Natasha had married in the early spring of 1813, and in 1820 already +had three daughters besides a son for whom she had longed and whom she +was now nursing. She had grown stouter and broader, so that it was +difficult to recognize in this robust, motherly woman the slim, lively +Natasha of former days. Her features were more defined and had a calm, +soft, and serene expression. In her face there was none of the +ever-glowing animation that had formerly burned there and +constituted its charm. Now her face and body were of all that one saw, +and her soul was not visible at all. All that struck the eye was a +strong, handsome, and fertile woman. The old fire very rarely +kindled in her face now. That happened only when, as was the case that +day, her husband returned home, or a sick child was convalescent, or +when she and Countess Mary spoke of Prince Andrew (she never mentioned +him to her husband, who she imagined was jealous of Prince Andrew's +memory), or on the rare occasions when something happened to induce +her to sing, a practice she had quite abandoned since her marriage. At +the rare moments when the old fire did kindle in her handsome, fully +developed body she was even more attractive than in former days. + +Since their marriage Natasha and her husband had lived in Moscow, in +Petersburg, on their estate near Moscow, or with her mother, that is +to say, in Nicholas' house. The young Countess Bezukhova was not often +seen in society, and those who met her there were not pleased with her +and found her neither attractive nor amiable. Not that Natasha liked +solitude- she did not know whether she liked it or not, she even +thought that she did not- but with her pregnancies, her +confinements, the nursing of her children, and sharing every moment of +her husband's life, she had demands on her time which could be +satisfied only by renouncing society. All who had known Natasha before +her marriage wondered at the change in her as at something +extraordinary. Only the old countess with her maternal instinct had +realized that all Natasha's outbursts had been due to her need of +children and a husband- as she herself had once exclaimed at +Otradnoe not so much in fun as in earnest- and her mother was now +surprised at the surprise expressed by those who had never +understood Natasha, and she kept saying that she had always known that +Natasha would make an exemplary wife and mother. + +"Only she lets her love of her husband and children overflow all +bounds," said the countess, "so that it even becomes absurd." + +Natasha did not follow the golden rule advocated by clever folk, +especially by the French, which says that a girl should not let +herself go when she marries, should not neglect her accomplishments, +should be even more careful of her appearance than when she was +unmarried, and should fascinate her husband as much as she did +before he became her husband. Natasha on the contrary had at once +abandoned all her witchery, of which her singing had been an unusually +powerful part. She gave it up just because it was so powerfully +seductive. She took no pains with her manners or with of speech, or +with her toilet, or to show herself to her husband in her most +becoming attitudes, or to avoid inconveniencing him by being too +exacting. She acted in contradiction to all those rules. She felt that +the allurements instinct had formerly taught her to use would now be +merely ridiculous in the eyes of her husband, to whom she had from the +first moment given herself up entirely- that is, with her whole +soul, leaving no corner of it hidden from him. She felt that her unity +with her husband was not maintained by the poetic feelings that had +attracted him to her, but by something else- indefinite but firm as +the bond between her own body and soul. + +To fluff out her curls, put on fashionable dresses, and sing +romantic songs to fascinate her husband would have seemed as strange +as to adorn herself to attract herself. To adorn herself for others +might perhaps have been agreeable- she did not know- but she had no +time at all for it. The chief reason for devoting no time either to +singing, to dress, or to choosing her words was that she really had no +time to spare for these things. + +We know that man has the faculty of becoming completely absorbed +in a subject however trivial it may be, and that there is no subject +so trivial that it will not grow to infinite proportions if one's +entire attention is devoted to it. + +The subject which wholly engrossed Natasha's attention was her +family: that is, her husband whom she had to keep so that he should +belong entirely to her and to the home, and the children whom she +had to bear, bring into the world, nurse, and bring up. + +And the deeper she penetrated, not with her mind only but with her +whole soul, her whole being, into the subject that absorbed her, the +larger did that subject grow and the weaker and more inadequate did +her powers appear, so that she concentrated them wholly on that one +thing and yet was unable to accomplish all that she considered +necessary. + +There were then as now conversations and discussions about women's +rights, the relations of husband and wife and their freedom and +rights, though these themes were not yet termed questions as they +are now; but these topics were not merely uninteresting to Natasha, +she positively did not understand them. + +These questions, then as now, existed only for those who see nothing +in marriage but the pleasure married people get from one another, that +is, only the beginnings of marriage and not its whole significance, +which lies in the family. + +Discussions and questions of that kind, which are like the +question of how to get the greatest gratification from one's dinner, +did not then and do not now exist for those for whom the purpose of +a dinner is the nourishment it affords; and the purpose of marriage is +the family. + +If the purpose of dinner is to nourish the body, a man who eats +two dinners at once may perhaps get more enjoyment but will not attain +his purpose, for his stomach will not digest the two dinners. + +If the purpose of marriage is the family, the person who wishes to +have many wives or husbands may perhaps obtain much pleasure, but in +that case will not have a family. + +If the purpose of food is nourishment and the purpose of marriage is +the family, the whole question resolves itself into not eating more +than one can digest, and not having more wives or husbands than are +needed for the family- that is, one wife or one husband. Natasha +needed a husband. A husband was given her and he gave her a family. +And she not only saw no need of any other or better husband, but as +all the powers of her soul were intent on serving that husband and +family, she could not imagine and saw no interest in imagining how +it would be if things were different. + +Natasha did not care for society in general, but prized the more the +society of her relatives- Countess Mary, and her brother, her +mother, and Sonya. She valued the company of those to whom she could +come striding disheveled from the nursery in her dressing gown, and +with joyful face show a yellow instead of a green stain on baby's +napkin, and from whom she could hear reassuring words to the effect +that baby was much better. + +To such an extent had Natasha let herself go that the way she +dressed and did her hair, her ill-chosen words, and her jealousy- +she was jealous of Sonya, of the governess, and of every woman, pretty +or plain- were habitual subjects of jest to those about her. The +general opinion was that Pierre was under his wife's thumb, which +was really true. From the very first days of their married life +Natasha had announced her demands. Pierre was greatly surprised by his +wife's view, to him a perfectly novel one, that every moment of his +life belonged to her and to the family. His wife's demands +astonished him, but they also flattered him, and he submitted to them. + +Pierre's subjection consisted in the fact that he not only dared not +flirt with, but dared not even speak smilingly to, any other woman; +did not dare dine at the Club as a pastime, did not dare spend money a +whim, and did not dare absent himself for any length of time, except +on business- in which his wife included his intellectual pursuits, +which she did not in the least understand but to which she +attributed great importance. To make up for this, at home Pierre had +the right to regulate his life and that of the whole family exactly as +he chose. At home Natasha placed herself in the position of a slave to +her husband, and the whole household went on tiptoe when he was +occupied- that is, was reading or writing in his study. Pierre had but +to show a partiality for anything to get just what he liked done +always. He had only to express a wish and Natasha would jump up and +run to fulfill it. + +The entire household was governed according to Pierre's supposed +orders, that is, by his wishes which Natasha tried to guess. Their way +of life and place of residence, their acquaintances and ties, +Natasha's occupations, the children's upbringing, were all selected +not merely with regard to Pierre's expressed wishes, but to what +Natasha from the thoughts he expressed in conversation supposed his +wishes to be. And she deduced the essentials of his wishes quite +correctly, and having once arrived at them clung to them +tenaciously. When Pierre himself wanted to change his mind she would +fight him with his own weapons. + +Thus in a time of trouble ever memorable to him after the birth of +their first child who was delicate, when they had to change the wet +nurse three times and Natasha fell ill from despair, Pierre one day +told her of Rousseau's view, with which he quite agreed, that to +have a wet nurse is unnatural and harmful. When her next baby was +born, despite the opposition of her mother, the doctors, and even of +her husband himself- who were all vigorously opposed to her nursing +her baby herself, a thing then unheard of and considered injurious- +she insisted on having her own way, and after that nursed all her +babies herself. + +It very often happened that in a moment of irritation husband and +wife would have a dispute, but long afterwards Pierre to his +surprise and delight would find in his wife's ideas and actions the +very thought against which she had argued, but divested of +everything superfluous that in the excitement of the dispute he had +added when expressing his opinion. + +After seven years of marriage Pierre had the joyous and firm +consciousness that he was not a bad man, and he felt this because he +saw himself reflected in his wife. He felt the good and bad within +himself inextricably mingled and overlapping. But only what was really +good in him was reflected in his wife, all that was not quite good was +rejected. And this was not the result of logical reasoning but was a +direct and mysterious reflection. + +CHAPTER XI + +Two months previously when Pierre was already staying with the +Rostovs he had received a letter from Prince Theodore, asking him to +come to Petersburg to confer on some important questions that were +being discussed there by a society of which Pierre was one of the +principal founders. + +On reading that letter (she always read her husband's letters) +Natasha herself suggested that he should go to Petersburg, though +she would feel his absence very acutely. She attributed immense +importance to all her husband's intellectual and abstract interests +though she did not understand them, and she always dreaded being a +hindrance to him in such matters. To Pierre's timid look of inquiry +after reading the letter she replied by asking him to go, but to fix a +definite date for his return. He was given four weeks' leave of +absence. + +Ever since that leave of absence had expired, more than a +fortnight before, Natasha had been in a constant state of alarm, +depression, and irritability. + +Denisov, now a general on the retired list and much dissatisfied +with the present state of affairs, had arrived during that +fortnight. He looked at Natasha with sorrow and surprise as at a bad +likeness of a person once dear. A dull, dejected look, random replies, +and talk about the nursery was all he saw and heard from his former +enchantress. + +Natasha was sad and irritable all that time, especially when her +mother, her brother, Sonya, or Countess Mary in their efforts to +console her tried to excuse Pierre and suggested reasons for his delay +in returning. + +"It's all nonsense, all rubbish- those discussions which lead to +nothing and all those idiotic societies!" Natasha declared of the very +affairs in the immense importance of which she firmly believed. + +And she would go to the nursery to nurse Petya, her only boy. No one +else could tell her anything so comforting or so reasonable as this +little three-month-old creature when he lay at her breast and she +was conscious of the movement of his lips and the snuffling of his +little nose. That creature said: "You are angry, you are jealous, +you would like to pay him out, you are afraid- but here am I! And I am +he..." and that was unanswerable. It was more than true. + +During that fortnight of anxiety Natasha resorted to the baby for +comfort so often, and fussed over him so much, that she overfed him +and he fell ill. She was terrified by his illness, and yet that was +just what she needed. While attending to him she bore the anxiety +about her husband more easily. + +She was nursing her boy when the sound of Pierre's sleigh was +heard at the front door, and the old nurse- knowing how to please +her mistress- entered the room inaudibly but hurriedly and with a +beaming face. + +"Has he come?" Natasha asked quickly in a whisper, afraid to move +lest she should rouse the dozing baby. + +"He's come, ma'am," whispered the nurse. + +The blood rushed to Natasha's face and her feet involuntarily moved, +but she could not jump up and run out. The baby again opened his +eyes and looked at her. "You're here?" he seemed to be saying, and +again lazily smacked his lips. + +Cautiously withdrawing her breast, Natasha rocked him a little, +handed him to the nurse, and went with rapid steps toward the door. +But at the door she stopped as if her conscience reproached her for +having in her joy left the child too soon, and she glanced round. +The nurse with raised elbows was lifting the infant over the rail of +his cot. + +"Go, ma'am! Don't worry, go!" she whispered, smiling, with the +kind of familiarity that grows up between a nurse and her mistress. + +Natasha ran with light footsteps to the anteroom. + +Denisov, who had come out of the study into the dancing room with +his pipe, now for the first time recognized the old Natasha. A flood +of brilliant, joyful light poured from her transfigured face. + +"He's come!" she exclaimed as she ran past, and Denisov felt that he +too was delighted that Pierre, whom he did not much care for, had +returned. + +On reaching the vestibule Natasha saw a tall figure in a fur coat +unwinding his scarf. "It's he! It's really he! He has come!" she +said to herself, and rushing at him embraced him, pressed his head +to her breast, and then pushed him back and gazed at his ruddy, +happy face, covered with hoarfrost. "Yes, it is he, happy and +contented..." + +Then all at once she remembered the tortures of suspense she had +experienced for the last fortnight, and the joy that had lit up her +face vanished; she frowned and overwhelmed Pierre with a torrent of +reproaches and angry words. + +"Yes, it's all very well for you. You are pleased, you've had a good +time.... But what about me? You might at least have shown +consideration for the children. I am nursing and my milk was +spoiled.... Petya was at death's door. But you were enjoying yourself. +Yes, enjoying..." + +Pierre knew he was not to blame, for he could not have come +sooner; he knew this outburst was unseemly and would blow over in a +minute or two; above all he knew that he himself was bright and happy. +He wanted to smile but dared not even think of doing so. He made a +piteous, frightened face and bent down. + +"I could not, on my honor. But how is Petya?" + +"All right now. Come along! I wonder you're not ashamed! If only you +could see what I was like without you, how I suffered!" + +"You are well?" + +"Come, come!" she said, not letting go of his arm. And they went +to their rooms. + +When Nicholas and his wife came to look for Pierre he was in the +nursery holding his baby son, who was again awake, on his huge right +palm and dandling him. A blissful bright smile was fixed on the baby's +broad face with its toothless open mouth. The storm was long since +over and there was bright, joyous sunshine on Natasha's face as she +gazed tenderly at her husband and child. + +"And have you talked everything well over with Prince Theodore?" she +asked. + +"Yes, capitally." + +"You see, he holds it up." (She meant the baby's head.) "But how +he did frighten me... You've seen the princess? Is it true she's in +love with that..." + +"Yes, just fancy..." + +At that moment Nicholas and Countess Mary came in. Pierre with the +baby on his hand stooped, kissed them, and replied to their inquiries. +But in spite of much that was interesting and had to be discussed, the +baby with the little cap on its unsteady head evidently absorbed all +his attention. + +"How sweet!" said Countess Mary, looking at and playing with the +baby. "Now, Nicholas," she added, turning to her husband, "I can't +understand how it is you don't see the charm of these delicious +marvels." + +"I don't and can't," replied Nicholas, looking coldly at the baby. +"A lump of flesh. Come along, Pierre!" + +"And yet he's such an affectionate father," said Countess Mary, +vindicating her husband, "but only after they are a year old or so..." + +"Now, Pierre nurses them splendidly," said Natasha. "He says his +hand is just made for a baby's seat. Just look!" + +"Only not for this..." Pierre suddenly exclaimed with a laugh, and +shifting the baby he gave him to the nurse. + +CHAPTER XII + +As in every large household, there were at Bald Hills several +perfectly distinct worlds which merged into one harmonious whole, +though each retained its own peculiarities and made concessions to the +others. Every event, joyful or sad, that took place in that house +was important to all these worlds, but each had its own special +reasons to rejoice or grieve over that occurrence independently of the +others. + +For instance, Pierre's return was a joyful and important event and +they all felt it to be so. + +The servants- the most reliable judges of their masters because they +judge not by their conversation or expressions of feeling but by their +acts and way of life- were glad of Pierre's return because they knew +that when he was there Count Nicholas would cease going every day +attend to the estate, and would would be in better spirits and temper, +and also because they would all receive handsome presents for the +holidays. + +The children and their governesses were glad of Pierre's return +because no one else drew them into the social life of the household as +he did. He alone could play on the clavichord that ecossaise (his only +piece) to which, as he said, all possible dances could be danced, +and they felt sure he had brought presents for them all. + +Young Nicholas, now a slim lad of fifteen, delicate and intelligent, +with curly light-brown hair and beautiful eyes, was delighted +because Uncle Pierre as he called him was the object of his +rapturous and passionate affection. No one had instilled into him this +love for Pierre whom he saw only occasionally. Countess Mary who had +brought him up had done her utmost to make him love her husband as she +loved him, and little Nicholas did love his uncle, but loved him +with just a shade of contempt. Pierre, however, he adored. He did +not want to be an hussar or a Knight of St. George like his uncle +Nicholas; he wanted to be learned, wise, and kind like Pierre. In +Pierre's presence his face always shone with pleasure and he flushed +and was breathless when Pierre spoke to him. He did not miss a +single word he uttered, and would afterwards, with Dessalles or by +himself, recall and reconsider the meaning of everything Pierre had +said. Pierre's past life and his unhappiness prior to 1812 (of which +young Nicholas had formed a vague poetic picture from some words he +had overheard), his adventures in Moscow, his captivity, Platon +Karataev (of whom he had heard from Pierre), his love for Natasha +(of whom the lad was also particularly fond), and especially +Pierre's friendship with the father whom Nicholas could not +remember- all this made Pierre in his eyes a hero and a saint. + +From broken remarks about Natasha and his father, from the emotion +with which Pierre spoke of that dead father, and from the careful, +reverent tenderness with which Natasha spoke of him, the boy, who +was only just beginning to guess what love is, derived the notion that +his father had loved Natasha and when dying had left her to his +friend. But the father whom the boy did not remember appeared to him a +divinity who could not be pictured, and of whom he never thought +without a swelling heart and tears of sadness and rapture. So the +boy also was happy that Pierre had arrived. + +The guests welcomed Pierre because he always helped to enliven and +unite any company he was in. + +The grown-up members of the family, not to mention his wife, were +pleased to have back a friend whose presence made life run more +smoothly and peacefully. + +The old ladies were pleased with the presents he brought them, and +especially that Natasha would now be herself again. + +Pierre felt the different outlooks of these various worlds and +made haste to satisfy all their expectations. + +Though the most absent-minded and forgetful of men, Pierre, with the +aid of a list his wife drew up, had now bought everything, not +forgetting his mother- and brother-in-law's commissions, nor the dress +material for a present to Belova, nor toys for his wife's nephews. +In the early days of his marriage it had seemed strange to him that +his wife should expect him not to forget to procure all the things +he undertook to buy, and he had been taken aback by her serious +annoyance when on his first trip he forgot everything. But in time +he grew used to this demand. Knowing that Natasha asked nothing for +herself, and gave him commissions for others only when he himself +had offered to undertake them, he now found an unexpected and +childlike pleasure in this purchase of presents for everyone in the +house, and never forgot anything. If he now incurred Natasha's censure +it was only for buying too many and too expensive things. To her other +defects (as most people thought them, but which to Pierre were +qualities) of untidiness and neglect of herself, she now added +stinginess. + +From the time that Pierre began life as a family man on a footing +entailing heavy expenditure, he had noticed to his surprise that he +spent only half as much as before, and that his affairs- which had +been in disorder of late, chiefly because of his first wife's debts- +had begun to improve. + +Life was cheaper because it was circumscribed: that most expensive +luxury, the kind of life that can be changed at any moment, was no +longer his nor did he wish for it. He felt that his way of life had +now been settled once for all till death and that to change it was not +in his power, and so that way of life proved economical. + +With a merry, smiling face Pierre was sorting his purchases. + +"What do you think of this?" said he, unrolling a piece of stuff +like a shopman. + +Natasha, who was sitting opposite to him with her eldest daughter on +her lap, turned her sparkling eyes swiftly from her husband to the +things he showed her. + +"That's for Belova? Excellent!" She felt the quality of the +material. "It was a ruble an arshin, I suppose?" + +Pierre told her the price. + +"Too dear!" Natasha remarked. "How pleased the children will be +and Mamma too! Only you need not have bought me this," she added, +unable to suppress a smile as she gazed admiringly at a gold comb +set with pearls, of a kind then just coming into fashion. + +"Adele tempted me: she kept on telling me to buy it," returned +Pierre. + +"When am I to wear it?" and Natasha stuck it in her coil of hair. +"When I take little Masha into society? Perhaps they will be +fashionable again by then. Well, let's go now." + +And collecting the presents they went first to the nursery and +then to the old countess' rooms. + +The countess was sitting with her companion Belova, playing +grand-patience as usual, when Pierre and Natasha came into the drawing +room with parcels under their arms. + +The countess was now over sixty, was quite gray, and wore a cap with +a frill that surrounded her face. Her face had shriveled, her upper +lip had sunk in, and her eyes were dim. + +After the deaths of her son and husband in such rapid succession, +she felt herself a being accidentally forgotten in this world and left +without aim or object for her existence. She ate, drank, slept, or +kept awake, but did not live. Life gave her no new impressions. She +wanted nothing from life but tranquillity, and that tranquillity +only death could give her. But until death came she had to go on +living, that is, to use her vital forces. A peculiarity one sees in +very young children and very old people was particularly evident in +her. Her life had no external aims- only a need to exercise her +various functions and inclinations was apparent. She had to eat, +sleep, think, speak, weep, work, give vent to her anger, and so on, +merely because she had a stomach, a brain, muscles, nerves, and a +liver. She did these things not under any external impulse as people +in the full vigor of life do, when behind the purpose for which they +strive that of exercising their functions remains unnoticed. She +talked only because she physically needed to exercise her tongue and +lungs. She cried as a child does, because her nose had to be +cleared, and so on. What for people in their full vigor is an aim +was for her evidently merely a pretext. + +Thus in the morning- especially if she had eaten anything rich the +day before- she felt a need of being angry and would choose as the +handiest pretext Belova's deafness. + +She would begin to say something to her in a low tone from the other +end of the room. + +"It seems a little warmer today, my dear," she would murmur. + +And when Belova replied: "Oh yes, they've come," she would mutter +angrily: "O Lord! How stupid and deaf she is!" + +Another pretext would be her snuff, which would seem too dry or +too damp or not rubbed fine enough. After these fits of irritability +her face would grow yellow, and her maids knew by infallible +symptoms when Belova would again be deaf, the snuff damp, and the +countess' face yellow. Just as she needed to work off her spleen so +she had sometimes to exercise her still-existing faculty of +thinking- and the pretext for that was a game of patience. When she +needed to cry, the deceased count would be the pretext. When she +wanted to be agitated, Nicholas and his health would be the pretext, +and when she felt a need to speak spitefully, the pretext would be +Countess Mary. When her vocal organs needed exercise, which was +usually toward seven o'clock when she had had an after-dinner rest +in a darkened room, the pretext would be the retelling of the same +stories over and over again to the same audience. + +The old lady's condition was understood by the whole household +though no one ever spoke of it, and they all made every possible +effort to satisfy her needs. Only by a rare glance exchanged with a +sad smile between Nicholas, Pierre, Natasha, and Countess Mary was the +common understanding of her condition expressed. + +But those glances expressed something more: they said that she had +played her part in life, that what they now saw was not her whole +self, that we must all become like her, and that they were glad to +yield to her, to restrain themselves for this once precious being +formerly as full of life as themselves, but now so much to be +pitied. "Memento mori," said these glances. + +Only the really heartless, the stupid ones of that household, and +the little children failed to understand this and avoided her. + +CHAPTER XIII + +When Pierre and his wife entered the drawing room the countess was +in one of her customary states in which she needed the mental exertion +of playing patience, and so- though by force of habit she greeted +him with the words she always used when Pierre or her son returned +after an absence: "High time, my dear, high time! We were all weary of +waiting for you. Well, thank God!" and received her presents with +another customary remark: "It's not the gift that's precious, my dear, +but that you give it to me, an old woman..."- yet it was evident +that she was not pleased by Pierre's arrival at that moment when it +diverted her attention from the unfinished game. + +She finished her game of patience and only then examined the +presents. They consisted of a box for cards, of splendid +workmanship, a bright-blue Sevres tea cup with shepherdesses +depicted on it and with a lid, and a gold snuffbox with the count's +portrait on the lid which Pierre had had done by a miniaturist in +Petersburg. The countess had long wished for such a box, but as she +did not want to cry just then she glanced indifferently at the +portrait and gave her attention chiefly to the box for cards. + +"Thank you, my dear, you have cheered me up," said she as she always +did. "But best of all you have brought yourself back- for I never +saw anything like it, you ought to give your wife a scolding! What are +we to do with her? She is like a mad woman when you are away. +Doesn't see anything, doesn't remember anything," she went on, +repeating her usual phrases. "Look, Anna Timofeevna," she added to her +companion, "see what a box for cards my son has brought us!" + +Belova admired the presents and was delighted with her dress +material. + +Though Pierre, Natasha, Nicholas, Countess Mary, and Denisov had +much to talk about that they could not discuss before the old +countess- not that anything was hidden from her, but because she had +dropped so far behindhand in many things that had they begun to +converse in her presence they would have had to answer inopportune +questions and to repeat what they had already told her many times: +that so-and-so was dead and so-and-so was married, which she would +again be unable to remember- yet they sat at tea round the samovar +in the drawing room from habit, and Pierre answered the countess' +questions as to whether Prince Vasili had aged and whether Countess +Mary Alexeevna had sent greetings and still thought of them, and other +matters that interested no one and to which she herself was +indifferent. + +Conversation of this kind, interesting to no one yet unavoidable, +continued all through teatime. All the grown-up members of the +family were assembled near the round tea table at which Sonya presided +beside the samovar. The children with their tutors and governesses had +had tea and their voices were audible from the next room. At tea all +sat in their accustomed places: Nicholas beside the stove at a small +table where his tea was handed to him; Milka, the old gray borzoi +bitch (daughter of the first Milka), with a quite gray face and +large black eyes that seemed more prominent than ever, lay on the +armchair beside him; Denisov, whose curly hair, mustache, and whiskers +had turned half gray, sat beside countess Mary with his general's +tunic unbuttoned; Pierre sat between his wife and the old countess. He +spoke of what he knew might interest the old lady and that she could +understand. He told her of external social events and of the people +who had formed the circle of her contemporaries and had once been a +real, living, and distinct group, but who were now for the most part +scattered about the world and like herself were garnering the last +ears of the harvests they had sown in earlier years. But to the old +countess those contemporaries of hers seemed to be the only serious +and real society. Natasha saw by Pierre's animation that his visit had +been interesting and that he had much to tell them but dare not say it +before the old countess. Denisov, not being a member of the family, +did not understand Pierre's caution and being, as a malcontent, much +interested in what was occurring in Petersburg, kept urging Pierre +to tell them about what had happened in the Semenovsk regiment, then +about Arakcheev, and then about the Bible Society. Once or twice +Pierre was carried away and began to speak of these things, but +Nicholas and Natasha always brought him back to the health of Prince +Ivan and Countess Mary Alexeevna. + +"Well, and all this idiocy- Gossner and Tatawinova?" Denisov +asked. "Is that weally still going on?" + +"Going on?" Pierre exclaimed. "Why more than ever! The Bible Society +is the whole government now!" + +"What is that, mon cher ami?" asked the countess, who had +finished her tea and evidently needed a pretext for being angry +after her meal. "What are you saying about the government? I don't +understand." + +"Well, you know, Maman," Nicholas interposed, knowing how to +translate things into his mother's language, "Prince Alexander +Golitsyn has founded a society and in consequence has great influence, +they say." + +"Arakcheev and Golitsyn," incautiously remarked Pierre, "are now the +whole government! And what a government! They see treason everywhere +and are afraid of everything." + +"Well, and how is Prince Alexander to blame? He is a most +estimable man. I used to meet him at Mary Antonovna's," said the +countess in an offended tone; and still more offended that they all +remained silent, she went on: "Nowadays everyone finds fault. A Gospel +Society! Well, and what harm is there in that?" and she rose +(everybody else got up too) and with a severe expression sailed back +to her table in the sitting room. + +The melancholy silence that followed was broken by the sounds of the +children's voices and laughter from the next room. Evidently some +jolly excitement was going on there. + +"Finished, finished!" little Natasha's gleeful yell rose above +them all. + +Pierre exchanged glances with Countess Mary and Nicholas (Natasha he +never lost sight of) and smiled happily. + +"That's delightful music!" said he. + +"It means that Anna Makarovna has finished her stocking," said +Countess Mary. + +"Oh, I'll go and see," said Pierre, jumping up. "You know," he +added, stopping at the door, "why I'm especially fond of that music? +It is always the first thing that tells me all is well. When I was +driving here today, the nearer I got to the house the more anxious I +grew. As I entered the anteroom I heard Andrusha's peals of laughter +and that meant that all was well." + +"I know! I know that feeling," said Nicholas. "But I mustn't go +there- those stockings are to be a surprise for me." + +Pierre went to the children, and the shouting and laughter grew +still louder. + +"Come, Anna Makarovna," Pierre's voice was heard saying, "come +here into the middle of the room and at the word of command, 'One, +two,' and when I say 'three'... You stand here, and you in my arms- +well now! One, two!..." said Pierre, and a silence followed: +"three!" and a rapturously breathless cry of children's voices +filled the room. "Two, two!" they shouted. + +This meant two stockings, which by a secret process known only to +herself Anna Makarovna used to knit at the same time on the same +needles, and which, when they were ready, she always triumphantly +drew, one out of the other, in the children's presence. + +CHAPTER XIV + +Soon after this the children came in to say good night. They +kissed everyone, the tutors and governesses made their bows, and +they went out. Only young Nicholas and his tutor remained. Dessalles +whispered to the boy to come downstairs. + +"No, Monsieur Dessalles, I will ask my aunt to let me stay," replied +Nicholas Bolkonski also in a whisper. + +"Ma tante, please let me stay," said he, going up to his aunt. + +His face expressed entreaty, agitation, and ecstasy. Countess Mary +glanced at him and turned to Pierre. + +"When you are here he can't tear himself away," she said. + +"I will bring him to you directly, Monsieur Dessalles. Good +night!" said Pierre, giving his hand to the Swiss tutor, and he turned +to young Nicholas with a smile. "You and I haven't seen anything of +one another yet... How like he is growing, Mary!" he added, addressing +Countess Mary. + +"Like my father?" asked the boy, flushing crimson and looking up +at Pierre with bright, ecstatic eyes. + +Pierre nodded, and went on with what he had been saying when the +children had interrupted. Countess Mary sat down doing woolwork; +Natasha did not take her eyes off her husband. Nicholas and Denisov +rose, asked for their pipes, smoked, went to fetch more tea from +Sonya- who sat weary but resolute at the samovar- and questioned +Pierre. The curly-headed, delicate boy sat with shining eyes unnoticed +in a corner, starting every now and then and muttering something to +himself, and evidently experiencing a new and powerful emotion as he +turned his curly head, with his thin neck exposed by his turn-down +collar, toward the place where Pierre sat. + +The conversation turned on the contemporary gossip about those in +power, in which most people see the chief interest of home politics. +Denisov, dissatisfied with the government on account of his own +disappointments in the service, heard with pleasure of the things done +in Petersburg which seemed to him stupid, and made forcible and +sharp comments on what Pierre told them. + +"One used to have to be a German- now one must dance with Tatawinova +and Madame Kwudener, and wead Ecka'tshausen and the bwethwen. Oh, they +should let that fine fellow Bonaparte lose- he'd knock all this +nonsense out of them! Fancy giving the command of the Semenov wegiment +to a fellow like that Schwa'tz!" he cried. + +Nicholas, though free from Denisov's readiness to find fault with +everything, also thought that discussion of the government was a +very serious and weighty matter, and the fact that A had been +appointed Minister of This and B Governor General of That, and that +the Emperor had said so-and-so and this minister so-and-so, seemed +to him very important. And so he thought it necessary to take an +interest in these things and to question Pierre. The questions put +by these two kept the conversation from changing its ordinary +character of gossip about the higher government circles. + +But Natasha, knowing all her husband's ways and ideas, saw that he +had long been wishing but had been unable to divert the conversation +to another channel and express his own deeply felt idea for the sake +of which he had gone to Petersburg to consult with his new friend +Prince Theodore, and she helped him by asking how his affairs with +Prince Theodore had gone. + +"What was it about?" asked Nicholas. + +"Always the same thing," said Pierre, looking round at his +listeners. "Everybody sees that things are going so badly that they +cannot be allowed to go on so and that it is the duty of all decent +men to counteract it as far as they can." + +"What can decent men do?" Nicholas inquired, frowning slightly. +"What can be done?" + +"Why, this..." + +"Come into my study," said Nicholas. + +Natasha, who had long expected to be fetched to nurse her baby, +now heard the nurse calling her and went to the nursery. Countess Mary +followed her. The men went into the study and little Nicholas +Bolkonski followed them unnoticed by his uncle and sat down at the +writing table in a shady corner by the window. + +"Well, what would you do?" asked Denisov. + +"Always some fantastic schemes," said Nicholas. + +"Why this," began Pierre, not sitting down but pacing the room, +sometimes stopping short, gesticulating, and lisping: "the position in +Petersburg is this: the Emperor does not look into anything. He has +abandoned himself altogether to this mysticism" (Pierre could not +tolerate mysticism in anyone now). "He seeks only for peace, and +only these people sans foi ni loi~^ can give it him- people who +recklessly hack at and strangle everything- Magnitski, Arakcheev, +and tutti quanti.... You will agree that if you did not look after +your estates yourself but only wanted a quiet life, the harsher your +steward was the more readily your object might be attained," he said +to Nicholas. + +^~ Without faith or law. + +"Well, what does that lead up to?" said Nicholas. + +"Well, everything is going to ruin! Robbery in the law courts, in +the army nothing but flogging, drilling, and Military Settlements; the +people are tortured, enlightenment is suppressed. All that is young +and honest is crushed! Everyone sees that this cannot go on. +Everything is strained to such a degree that it will certainly break," +said Pierre (as those who examine the actions of any government have +always said since governments began). "I told them just one thing in +Petersburg." + +"Told whom?" + +"Well, you know whom," said Pierre, with a meaning glance from under +his brows. "Prince Theodore and all those. To encourage culture and +philanthropy is all very well of course. The aim is excellent but in +the present circumstances something else is needed." + +At that moment Nicholas noticed the presence of his nephew. His face +darkened and he went up to the boy. + +"Why are you here?" + +"Why? Let him be," said Pierre, taking Nicholas by the arm and +continuing. "That is not enough, I told them. Something else is +needed. When you stand expecting the overstrained string to snap at +any moment, when everyone is expecting the inevitable catastrophe, +as many as possible must join hands as closely as they can to +withstand the general calamity. Everything that is young and strong is +being enticed away and depraved. One is lured by women, another by +honors, a third by ambition or money, and they go over to that camp. +No independent men, such as you or I, are left. What I say is widen +the scope of our society, let the mot d'ordre be not virtue alone +but independence and action as well!" + +Nicholas, who had left his nephew, irritably pushed up an +armchair, sat down in it, and listened to Pierre, coughing +discontentedly and frowning more and more. + +"But action with what aim?" he cried. "And what position will you +adopt toward the government?" + +"Why, the position of assistants. The society need not be secret +if the government allows it. Not merely is it not hostile to +government, but it is a society of true conservatives- a society of +gentlemen in the full meaning of that word. It is only to prevent some +Pugachev or other from killing my children and yours, and Arakcheev +from sending me off to some Military Settlement. We join hands only +for the public welfare and the general safety." + +"Yes, but it's a secret society and therefore a hostile and +harmful one which can only cause harm." + +"Why? Did the Tugendbund which saved Europe" (they did not then +venture to suggest that Russia had saved Europe) "do any harm? The +Tugendbund is an alliance of virtue: it is love, mutual help... it +is what Christ preached on the Cross." + +Natasha, who had come in during the conversation, looked joyfully at +her husband. It was not what he was saying that pleased her- that +did not even interest her, for it seemed to her that was all extremely +simple and that she had known it a long time (it seemed so to her +because she knew that it sprang from Pierre's whole soul), but it +was his animated and enthusiastic appearance that made her glad. + +The boy with the thin neck stretching out from the turn-down collar- +whom everyone had forgotten- gazed at Pierre with even greater and +more rapturous joy. Every word of Pierre's burned into his heart, +and with a nervous movement of his fingers he unconsciously broke +the sealing wax and quill pens his hands came upon on his uncle's +table. + +"It is not at all what you suppose; but that is what the German +Tugendbund was, and what I am proposing." + +"No, my fwiend! The Tugendbund is all vewy well for the sausage +eaters, but I don't understand it and can't even pwonounce it," +interposed Denisov in a loud and resolute voice. "I agwee that +evewything here is wotten and howwible, but the Tugendbund I don't +understand. If we're not satisfied, let us have a bunt of our own. +That's all wight. Je suis vot'e homme!"~^ + +^~ "I'm your man." + +Pierre smiled, Natasha began to laugh, but Nicholas knitted his +brows still more and began proving to Pierre that there was no +prospect of any great change and that all the danger he spoke of +existed only in his imagination. Pierre maintained the contrary, and +as his mental faculties were greater and more resourceful, Nicholas +felt himself cornered. This made him still angrier, for he was fully +convinced, not by reasoning but by something within him stronger +than reason, of the justice of his opinion. + +"I will tell you this," he said, rising and trying with nervously +twitching fingers to prop up his pipe in a corner, but finally +abandoning the attempt. "I can't prove it to you. You say that +everything here is rotten and that an overthrow is coming: I don't see +it. But you also say that our oath of allegiance is a conditional +matter, and to that I reply: 'You are my best friend, as you know, but +if you formed a secret society and began working against the +government- be it what it may- I know it is my duty to obey the +government. And if Arakcheev ordered me to lead a squadron against you +and cut you down, I should not hesitate an instant, but should do it.' +And you may argue about that as you like!" + +An awkward silence followed these words. Natasha was the first to +speak, defending her husband and attacking her brother. Her defense +was weak and inapt but she attained her object. The conversation was +resumed, and no longer in the unpleasantly hostile tone of Nicholas' +last remark. + +When they all got up to go in to supper, little Nicholas Bolkonski +went up to Pierre, pale and with shining, radiant eyes. + +"Uncle Pierre, you... no... If Papa were alive... would he agree +with you?" he asked. + +And Pierre suddenly realized what a special, independent, complex, +and powerful process of thought and feeling must have been going on in +this boy during that conversation, and remembering all he had said +he regretted that the lad should have heard him. He had, however, to +give him an answer. + +"Yes, I think so," he said reluctantly, and left the study. + +The lad looked down and seemed now for the first time to notice what +he had done to the things on the table. He flushed and went up to +Nicholas. + +"Uncle, forgive me, I did that... unintentionally," he said, +pointing to the broken sealing wax and pens. + +Nicholas started angrily. + +"All right, all right," he said, throwing the bits under the table. + +And evidently suppressing his vexation with difficulty, he turned +away from the boy. + +"You ought not to have been here at all," he said. + +CHAPTER XV + +The conversation at supper was not about politics or societies, +but turned on the subject Nicholas liked best- recollections of +1812. Denisov started these and Pierre was particularly agreeable +and amusing about them. The family separated on the most friendly +terms. + +After supper Nicholas, having undressed in his study and given +instructions to the steward who had been waiting for him, went to +the bedroom in his dressing gown, where he found his wife still at her +table, writing. + +"What are you writing, Mary?" Nicholas asked. + +Countess Mary blushed. She was afraid that what she was writing +would not be understood or approved by her husband. + +She had wanted to conceal what she was writing from him, but at +the same time was glad he had surprised her at it and that she would +now have to tell him. + +"A diary, Nicholas," she replied, handing him a blue exercise book +filled with her firm, bold writing. + +"A diary?" Nicholas repeated with a shade of irony, and he took up +the book. + +It was in French. + +December 4. Today when Andrusha (her eldest boy) woke up he did +not wish to dress and Mademoiselle Louise sent for me. He was +naughty and obstinate. I tried threats, but he only grew angrier. Then +I took the matter in hand: I left him alone and began with nurse's +help to get the other children up, telling him that I did not love +him. For a long time he was silent, as if astonished, then he jumped +out of bed, ran to me in his shirt, and sobbed so that I could not +calm him for a long time. It was plain that what troubled him most was +that he had grieved me. Afterwards in the evening when I gave him +his ticket, he again began crying piteously and kissing me. One can do +anything with him by tenderness. + +"What is a 'ticket'?" Nicholas inquired. + +"I have begun giving the elder ones marks every evening, showing how +they have behaved." + +Nicholas looked into the radiant eyes that were gazing at him, and +continued to turn over the pages and read. In the diary was set down +everything in the children's lives that seemed noteworthy to their +mother as showing their characters or suggesting general reflections +on educational methods. They were for the most part quite +insignificant trifles, but did not seem so to the mother or to the +father either, now that he read this diary about his children for +the first time. + +Under the date "5" was entered: + +Mitya was naughty at table. Papa said he was to have no pudding. +He had none, but looked so unhappily and greedily at the others +while they were eating! I think that punishment by depriving +children of sweets only develops their greediness. Must tell +Nicholas this. + +Nicholas put down the book and looked at his wife. The radiant +eyes gazed at him questioningly: would he approve or disapprove of her +diary? There could be no doubt not only of his approval but also of +his admiration for his wife. + +Perhaps it need not be done so pedantically, thought Nicholas, or +even done at all, but this untiring, continual spiritual effort of +which the sole aim was the children's moral welfare delighted him. Had +Nicholas been able to analyze his feelings he would have found that +his steady, tender, and proud love of his wife rested on his feeling +of wonder at her spirituality and at the lofty moral world, almost +beyond his reach, in which she had her being. + +He was proud of her intelligence and goodness, recognized his own +insignificance beside her in the spiritual world, and rejoiced all the +more that she with such a soul not only belonged to him but was part +of himself. + +"I quite, quite approve, my dearest!" said he with a significant +look, and after a short pause he added: "And I behaved badly today. +You weren't in the study. We began disputing- Pierre and I- and I lost +my temper. But he is impossible: such a child! I don't know what would +become of him if Natasha didn't keep him in hand.... Have you any idea +why he went to Petersburg? They have formed..." + +"Yes, I know," said Countess Mary. "Natasha told me." + +"Well, then, you know," Nicholas went on, growing hot at the mere +recollection of their discussion, "he wanted to convince me that it is +every honest man's duty to go against the government, and that the +oath of allegiance and duty... I am sorry you weren't there. They +all fell on me- Denisov and Natasha... Natasha is absurd. How she +rules over him! And yet there need only be a discussion and she has no +words of her own but only repeats his sayings..." added Nicholas, +yielding to that irresistible inclination which tempts us to judge +those nearest and dearest to us. He forgot that what he was saying +about Natasha could have been applied word for word to himself in +relation to his wife. + +"Yes, I have noticed that," said Countess Mary. + +"When I told him that duty and the oath were above everything, he +started proving goodness knows what! A pity you were not there- what +would you have said?" + +"As I see it you were quite right, and I told Natasha so. Pierre +says everybody is suffering, tortured, and being corrupted, and that +it is our duty to help our neighbor. Of course he is right there," +said Countess Mary, "but he forgets that we have other duties nearer +to us, duties indicated to us by God Himself, and that though we might +expose ourselves to risks we must not risk our children." + +"Yes, that's it! That's just what I said to him," put in Nicholas, +who fancied he really had said it. "But they insisted on their own +view: love of one's neighbor and Christianity- and all this in the +presence of young Nicholas, who had gone into my study and broke all +my things." + +"Ah, Nicholas, do you know I am often troubled about little +Nicholas," said Countess Mary. "He is such an exceptional boy. I am +afraid I neglect him in favor of my own: we all have children and +relations while he has no one. He is constantly alone with his +thoughts." + +"Well, I don't think you need reproach yourself on his account. +All that the fondest mother could do for her son you have done and are +doing for him, and of course I am glad of it. He is a fine lad, a fine +lad! This evening he listened to Pierre in a sort of trance, and +fancy- as we were going in to supper I looked and he had broken +everything on my table to bits, and he told me of it himself at +once! I never knew him to tell an untruth. A fine lad, a fine lad!" +repeated Nicholas, who at heart was not fond of Nicholas Bolkonski but +was always anxious to recognize that he was a fine lad. + +"Still, I am not the same as his own mother," said Countess Mary. "I +feel I am not the same and it troubles me. A wonderful boy, but I am +dreadfully afraid for him. It would be good for him to have +companions." + +"Well it won't be for long. Next summer I'll take him to +Petersburg," said Nicholas. "Yes, Pierre always was a dreamer and +always will be," he continued, returning to the talk in the study +which had evidently disturbed him. "Well, what business is it of +mine what goes on there- whether Arakcheev is bad, and all that? +What business was it of mine when I married and was so deep in debt +that I was threatened with prison, and had a mother who could not +see or understand it? And then there are you and the children and +our affairs. Is it for my own pleasure that I am at the farm or in the +office from morning to night? No, but I know I must work to comfort my +mother, to repay you, and not to leave the children such beggars as +I was." + +Countess Mary wanted to tell him that man does not live by bread +alone and that he attached too much importance to these matters. But +she knew she must not say this and that it would be useless to do +so. She only took his hand and kissed it. He took this as a sign of +approval and a confirmation of his thoughts, and after a few +minutes' reflection continued to think aloud. + +"You know, Mary, today Elias Mitrofanych" (this was his overseer) +"came back from the Tambov estate and told me they are already +offering eighty thousand rubles for the forest." + +And with an eager face Nicholas began to speak of the possibility of +repurchasing Otradnoe before long, and added: "Another ten years of +life and I shall leave the children... in an excellent position." + +Countess Mary listened to her husband and understood all that he +told her. She knew that when he thought aloud in this way he would +sometimes ask her what he had been saying, and be vexed if he +noticed that she had been thinking about something else. But she had +to force herself to attend, for what he was saying did not interest +her at all. She looked at him and did not think, but felt, about +something different. She felt a submissive tender love for this man +who would never understand all that she understood, and this seemed to +make her love for him still stronger and added a touch of passionate +tenderness. Besides this feeling which absorbed her altogether and +hindered her from following the details of her husband's plans, +thoughts that had no connection with what he was saying flitted +through her mind. She thought of her nephew. Her husband's account +of the boy's agitation while Pierre was speaking struck her +forcibly, and various traits of his gentle, sensitive character +recurred to her mind; and while thinking of her nephew she thought +also of her own children. She did not compare them with him, but +compared her feeling for them with her feeling for him, and felt +with regret that there was something lacking in her feeling for +young Nicholas. + +Sometimes it seemed to her that this difference arose from the +difference in their ages, but she felt herself to blame toward him and +promised in her heart to do better and to accomplish the impossible- +in this life to love her husband, her children, little Nicholas, and +all her neighbors, as Christ loved mankind. Countess Mary's soul +always strove toward the infinite, the eternal, and the absolute, +and could therefore never be at peace. A stern expression of the +lofty, secret suffering of a soul burdened by the body appeared on her +face. Nicholas gazed at her. "O God! What will become of us if she +dies, as I always fear when her face is like that?" thought he, and +placing himself before the icon he began to say his evening prayers. + +CHAPTER XVI + +Natasha and Pierre, left alone, also began to talk as only a husband +and wife can talk, that is, with extraordinary clearness and rapidity, +understanding and expressing each other's thoughts in ways contrary to +all rules of logic, without premises, deductions, or conclusions, +and in a quite peculiar way. Natasha was so used to this kind of +talk with her husband that for her it was the surest sign of something +being wrong between them if Pierre followed a line of logical +reasoning. When he began proving anything, or talking +argumentatively and calmly and she, led on by his example, began to do +the same, she knew that they were on the verge of a quarrel. + +From the moment they were alone and Natasha came up to him with +wide-open happy eyes, and quickly seizing his head pressed it to her +bosom, saying: "Now you are all mine, mine! You won't escape!"- from +that moment this conversation began, contrary to all the laws of logic +and contrary to them because quite different subjects were talked +about at one and the same time. This simultaneous discussion of many +topics did not prevent a clear understanding but on the contrary was +the surest sign that they fully understood one another. + +Just as in a dream when all is uncertain, unreasoning, and +contradictory, except the feeling that guides the dream, so in this +intercourse contrary to all laws of reason, the words themselves +were not consecutive and clear but only the feeling that prompted +them. + +Natasha spoke to Pierre about her brother's life and doings, of +how she had suffered and lacked life during his own absence, and of +how she was fonder than ever of Mary, and how Mary was in every way +better than herself. In saying this Natasha was sincere in +acknowledging Mary's superiority, but at the same time by saying it +she made a demand on Pierre that he should, all the same, prefer her +to Mary and to all other women, and that now, especially after +having seen many women in Petersburg, he should tell her so afresh. + +Pierre, answering Natasha's words, told her how intolerable it had +been for him to meet ladies at dinners and balls in Petersburg. + +"I have quite lost the knack of talking to ladies," he said. "It was +simply dull. Besides, I was very busy." + +Natasha looked intently at him and went on: + +"Mary is so splendid," she said. "How she understands children! It +is as if she saw straight into their souls. Yesterday, for instance, +Mitya was naughty..." + +"How like his father he is," Pierre interjected. + +Natasha knew why he mentioned Mitya's likeness to Nicholas: the +recollection of his dispute with his brother-in-law was unpleasant and +he wanted to know what Natasha thought of it. + +"Nicholas has the weakness of never agreeing with anything not +generally accepted. But I understand that you value what opens up a +fresh line," said she, repeating words Pierre had once uttered. + +"No, the chief point is that to Nicholas ideas and discussions are +an amusement- almost a pastime," said Pierre. "For instance, he is +collecting a library and has made it a rule not to buy a new book till +he has read what he had already bought- Sismondi and Rousseau and +Montesquieu," he added with a smile. "You know how much I..." he began +to soften down what he had said; but Natasha interrupted him to show +that this was unnecessary. + +"So you say ideas are an amusement to him...." + +"Yes, and for me nothing else is serious. All the time in Petersburg +I saw everyone as in a dream. When I am taken up by a thought, all +else is mere amusement." + +"Ah, I'm so sorry I wasn't there when you met the children," said +Natasha. "Which was most delighted? Lisa, I'm sure." + +"Yes," Pierre replied, and went on with what was in his mind. +"Nicholas says we ought not to think. But I can't help it. Besides, +when I was in Petersburg I felt (I can this to you) that the whole +affair would go to pieces without me- everyone was pulling his own +way. But I succeeded in uniting them all; and then my idea is so clear +and simple. You see, I don't say that we ought to oppose this and +that. We may be mistaken. What I say is: 'Join hands, you who love the +right, and let there be but one banner- that of active virtue.' Prince +Sergey is a fine fellow and clever." + +Natasha would have had no doubt as to the greatness of Pierre's +idea, but one thing disconcerted her. "Can a man so important and +necessary to society be also my husband? How did this happen?" She +wished to express this doubt to him. "Now who could decide whether +he is really cleverer than all the others?" she asked herself, and +passed in review all those whom Pierre most respected. Judging by what +he had said there was no one he had respected so highly as Platon +Karataev. + +"Do you know what I am thinking about?" she asked. "About Platon +Karataev. Would he have approved of you now, do you think?" + +Pierre was not at all surprised at this question. He understood +his wife's line of thought. + +"Platon Karataev?" he repeated, and pondered, evidently sincerely +trying to imagine Karataev's opinion on the subject. "He would not +have understood... yet perhaps he would." + +"I love you awfully!" Natasha suddenly said. "Awfully, awfully!" + +"No, he would not have approved," said Pierre, after reflection. +"What he would have approved of is our family life. He was always so +anxious to find seemliness, happiness, and peace in everything, and +I should have been proud to let him see us. There now- you talk of +my absence, but you wouldn't believe what a special feeling I have for +you after a separation...." + +"Yes, I should think..." Natasha began. + +"No, it's not that. I never leave off loving you. And one couldn't +love more, but this is something special.... Yes, of course-" he did +not finish because their eyes meeting said the rest. + +"What nonsense it is," Natasha suddenly exclaimed, "about +honeymoons, and that the greatest happiness is at first! On the +contrary, now is the best of all. If only you did not go away! Do +you remember how we quarreled? And it was always my fault. Always +mine. And what we quarreled about- I don't even remember!" + +"Always about the same thing," said Pierre with a smile. "Jealo..." + +"Don't say it! I can't bear it!" Natasha cried, and her eyes +glittered coldly and vindictively. "Did you see her?" she added, after +a pause. + +"No, and if I had I shouldn't have recognized her." + +They were silent for a while. + +"Oh, do you know? While you were talking in the study I was +looking at you," Natasha began, evidently anxious to disperse the +cloud that had come over them. "You are as like him as two peas- +like the boy." (She meant her little son.) "Oh, it's time to go to +him.... The milk's come.... But I'm sorry to leave you." + +They were silent for a few seconds. Then suddenly turning to one +another at the same time they both began to speak. Pierre began with +self-satisfaction and enthusiasm, Natasha with a quiet, happy smile. +Having interrupted one another they both stopped to let the other +continue. + +"No. What did you say? Go on, go on." + +"No, you go on, I was talking nonsense," said Natasha. + +Pierre finished what he had begun. It was the sequel to his +complacent reflections on his success in Petersburg. At that moment it +seemed to him that he was chosen to give a new direction to the +whole of Russian society and to the whole world. + +"I only wished to say that ideas that have great results are +always simple ones. My whole idea is that if vicious people are united +and constitute a power, then honest folk must do the same. Now +that's simple enough." + +"Yes." + +"And what were you going to say?" + +"I? Only nonsense." + +"But all the same?" + +"Oh nothing, only a trifle," said Natasha, smilingly still more +brightly. "I only wanted to tell you about Petya: today nurse was +coming to take him from me, and he laughed, shut his eyes, and clung +to me. I'm sure he thought he was hiding. Awfully sweet! There, now +he's crying. Well, good-by!" and she left the room. + +Meanwhile downstairs in young Nicholas Bolkonski's bedroom a +little lamp was burning as usual. (The boy was afraid of the dark +and they could not cure him of it.) Dessalles slept propped up on four +pillows and his Roman nose emitted sounds of rhythmic snoring. +Little Nicholas, who had just waked up in a cold perspiration, sat +up in bed and gazed before him with wide-open eyes. He had awaked from +a terrible dream. He had dreamed that he and Uncle Pierre, wearing +helmets such as were depicted in his Plutarch, were leading a huge +army. The army was made up of white slanting lines that filled the air +like the cobwebs that float about in autumn and which Dessalles called +les fils de la Vierge. In front was Glory, which was similar to +those threads but rather thicker. He and Pierre were borne along +lightly and joyously, nearer and nearer to their goal. Suddenly the +threads that moved them began to slacken and become entangled and it +grew difficult to move. And Uncle Nicholas stood before them in a +stern and threatening attitude. + +"Have you done this?" he said, pointing to some broken sealing wax +and pens. "I loved you, but I have orders from Arakcheev and will kill +the first of you who moves forward." Little Nicholas turned to look at +Pierre but Pierre was no longer there. In his place was his father- +Prince Andrew- and his father had neither shape nor form, but he +existed, and when little Nicholas perceived him he grew faint with +love: he felt himself powerless, limp, and formless. His father +caressed and pitied him. But Uncle Nicholas came nearer and nearer +to them. Terror seized young Nicholas and he awoke. + +"My father!" he thought. (Though there were two good portraits of +Prince Andrew in the house, Nicholas never imagined him in human +form.) "My father has been with me and caressed me. He approved of +me and of Uncle Pierre. Whatever he may tell me, I will do it. +Mucius Scaevola burned his hand. Why should not the same sort of thing +happen to me? I know they want me to learn. And I will learn. But +someday I shall have finished learning, and then I will do +something. I only pray God that something may happen to me such as +happened to Plutarch's men, and I will act as they did. I will do +better. Everyone shall know me, love me, and be delighted with me!" +And suddenly his bosom heaved with sobs and he began to cry. + +"Are you ill?" he heard Dessalles' voice asking. + +"No," answered Nicholas, and lay back on his pillow. + +"He is good and kind and I am fond of him!" he thought of Dessalles. +"But Uncle Pierre! Oh, what a wonderful man he is! And my father? +Oh, Father, Father! Yes, I will do something with which even he +would be satisfied...." + +SECOND EPILOGUE + +CHAPTER I + +History is the life of nations and of humanity. To seize and put +into words, to describe directly the life of humanity or even of a +single nation, appears impossible. + +The ancient historians all employed one and the same method to +describe and seize the apparently elusive- the life of a people. +They described the activity of individuals who ruled the people, and +regarded the activity of those men as representing the activity of the +whole nation. + +The question: how did individuals make nations act as they wished +and by what was the will of these individuals themselves guided? the +ancients met by recognizing a divinity which subjected the nations +to the will of a chosen man, and guided the will of that chosen man so +as to accomplish ends that were predestined. + +For the ancients these questions were solved by a belief in the +direct participation of the Deity in human affairs. + +Modern history, in theory, rejects both these principles. + +It would seem that having rejected the belief of the ancients in +man's subjection to the Deity and in a predetermined aim toward +which nations are led, modern history should study not the +manifestations of power but the causes that produce it. But modern +history has not done this. Having in theory rejected the view held +by the ancients, it still follows them in practice. + +Instead of men endowed with divine authority and directly guided +by the will of God, modern history has given us either heroes +endowed with extraordinary, superhuman capacities, or simply men of +very various kinds, from monarchs to journalists, who lead the masses. +Instead of the former divinely appointed aims of the Jewish, Greek, or +Roman nations, which ancient historians regarded as representing the +progress of humanity, modern history has postulated its own aims- +the welfare of the French, German, or English people, or, in its +highest abstraction, the welfare and civilization of humanity in +general, by which is usually meant that of the peoples occupying a +small northwesterly portion of a large continent. + +Modern history has rejected the beliefs of the ancients without +replacing them by a new conception, and the logic of the situation has +obliged the historians, after they had apparently rejected the +divine authority of the kings and the "fate" of the ancients, to reach +the same conclusion by another road, that is, to recognize (1) nations +guided by individual men, and (2) the existence of a known aim to +which these nations and humanity at large are tending. + +At the basis of the works of all the modern historians from Gibbon +to Buckle, despite their seeming disagreements and the apparent +novelty of their outlooks, lie those two old, unavoidable assumptions. + +In the first place the historian describes the activity of +individuals who in his opinion have directed humanity (one historian +considers only monarchs, generals, and ministers as being such men, +while another includes also orators, learned men, reformers, +philosophers, and poets). Secondly, it is assumed that the goal toward +which humanity is being led is known to the historians: to one of them +this goal is the greatness of the Roman, Spanish, or French realm; +to another it is liberty, equality, and a certain kind of civilization +of a small corner of the world called Europe. + +In 1789 a ferment arises in Paris; it grows, spreads, and is +expressed by a movement of peoples from west to east. Several times it +moves eastward and collides with a countermovement from the east +westward. In 1812 it reaches its extreme limit, Moscow, and then, with +remarkable symmetry, a countermovement occurs from east to west, +attracting to it, as the first movement had done, the nations of +middle Europe. The counter movement reaches the starting point of +the first movement in the west- Paris- and subsides. + +During that twenty-year period an immense number of fields were left +untilled, houses were burned, trade changed its direction, millions of +men migrated, were impoverished, or were enriched, and millions of +Christian men professing the law of love of their fellows slew one +another. + +What does all this mean? Why did it happen? What made those people +burn houses and slay their fellow men? What were the causes of these +events? What force made men act so? These are the instinctive, +plain, and most legitimate questions humanity asks itself when it +encounters the monuments and tradition of that period. + +For a reply to these questions the common sense of mankind turns +to the science of history, whose aim is to enable nations and humanity +to know themselves. + +If history had retained the conception of the ancients it would have +said that God, to reward or punish his people, gave Napoleon power and +directed his will to the fulfillment of the divine ends, and that +reply, would have been clear and complete. One might believe or +disbelieve in the divine significance of Napoleon, but for anyone +believing in it there would have been nothing unintelligible in the +history of that period, nor would there have been any contradictions. + +But modern history cannot give that reply. Science does not admit +the conception of the ancients as to the direct participation of the +Deity in human affairs, and therefore history ought to give other +answers. + +Modern history replying to these questions says: you want to know +what this movement means, what caused it, and what force produced +these events? Then listen: + +"Louis XIV was a very proud and self-confident man; he had such +and such mistresses and such and such ministers and he ruled France +badly. His descendants were weak men and they too ruled France +badly. And they had such and such favorites and such and such +mistresses. Moreover, certain men wrote some books at that time. At +the end of the eighteenth century there were a couple of dozen men +in Paris who began to talk about all men being free and equal. This +caused people all over France to begin to slash at and drown one +another. They killed the king and many other people. At that time +there was in France a man of genius- Napoleon. He conquered +everybody everywhere- that is, he killed many people because he was +a great genius. And for some reason he went to kill Africans, and +killed them so well and was so cunning and wise that when he +returned to France he ordered everybody to obey him, and they all +obeyed him. Having become an Emperor he again went out to kill +people in Italy, Austria, and Prussia. And there too he killed a great +many. In Russia there was an Emperor, Alexander, who decided to +restore order in Europe and therefore fought against Napoleon. In 1807 +he suddenly made friends with him, but in 1811 they again quarreled +and again began killing many people. Napoleon led six hundred thousand +men into Russia and captured Moscow; then he suddenly ran away from +Moscow, and the Emperor Alexander, helped by the advice of Stein and +others, united Europe to arm against the disturber of its peace. All +Napoleon's allies suddenly became his enemies and their forces +advanced against the fresh forces he raised. The Allies defeated +Napoleon, entered Paris, forced Napoleon to abdicate, and sent him +to the island of Elba, not depriving him of the title of Emperor and +showing him every respect, though five years before and one year later +they all regarded him as an outlaw and a brigand. Then Louis XVIII, +who till then had been the laughingstock both of the French and the +Allies, began to reign. And Napoleon, shedding tears before his Old +Guards, renounced the throne and went into exile. Then the skillful +statesmen and diplomatists (especially Talleyrand, who managed to +sit down in a particular chair before anyone else and thereby extended +the frontiers of France) talked in Vienna and by these conversations +made the nations happy or unhappy. Suddenly the diplomatists and +monarchs nearly quarreled and were on the point of again ordering +their armies to kill one another, but just then Napoleon arrived in +France with a battalion, and the French, who had been hating him, +immediately all submitted to him. But the Allied monarchs were angry +at this and went to fight the French once more. And they defeated +the genius Napoleon and, suddenly recognizing him as a brigand, sent +him to the island of St. Helena. And the exile, separated from the +beloved France so dear to his heart, died a lingering death on that +rock and bequeathed his great deeds to posterity. But in Europe a +reaction occurred and the sovereigns once again all began to oppress +their subjects." + +It would be a mistake to think that this is ironic- a caricature +of the historical accounts. On the contrary it is a very mild +expression of the contradictory replies, not meeting the questions, +which all the historians give, from the compilers of memoirs and the +histories of separate states to the writers of general histories and +the new histories of the culture of that period. + +The strangeness and absurdity of these replies arise from the fact +that modern history, like a deaf man, answers questions no one has +asked. + +If the purpose of history be to give a description of the movement +of humanity and of the peoples, the first question- in the absence +of a reply to which all the rest will be incomprehensible- is: what is +the power that moves peoples? To this, modern history laboriously +replies either that Napoleon was a great genius, or that Louis XIV was +very proud, or that certain writers wrote certain books. + +All that may be so and mankind is ready to agree with it, but it +is not what was asked. All that would be interesting if we +recognized a divine power based on itself and always consistently +directing its nations through Napoleons, Louis-es, and writers; but we +do not acknowledge such a power, and therefore before speaking about +Napoleons, Louis-es, and authors, we ought to be shown the +connection existing between these men and the movement of the nations. + +If instead of a divine power some other force has appeared, it +should be explained in what this new force consists, for the whole +interest of history lies precisely in that force. + +History seems to assume that this force is self-evident and known to +everyone. But in spite of every desire to regard it as known, anyone +reading many historical works cannot help doubting whether this new +force, so variously understood by the historians themselves, is really +quite well known to everybody. + +CHAPTER II + +What force moves the nations? + +Biographical historians and historians of separate nations +understand this force as a power inherent in heroes and rulers. In +their narration events occur solely by the will of a Napoleon, and +Alexander, or in general of the persons they describe. The answers +given by this kind of historian to the question of what force causes +events to happen are satisfactory only as long as there is but one +historian to each event. As soon as historians of different +nationalities and tendencies begin to describe the same event, the +replies they give immediately lose all meaning, for this force is +understood by them all not only differently but often in quite +contradictory ways. One historian says that an event was produced by +Napoleon's power, another that it was produced by Alexander's, a third +that it was due to the power of some other person. Besides this, +historians of that kind contradict each other even in their +statement as to the force on which the authority of some particular +person was based. Thiers, a Bonapartist, says that Napoleon's power +was based on his virtue and genius. Lanfrey, a Republican, says it was +based on his trickery and deception of the people. So the historians +of this class, by mutually destroying one another's positions, destroy +the understanding of the force which produces events, and furnish no +reply to history's essential question. + +Writers of universal history who deal with all the nations seem to +recognize how erroneous is the specialist historians' view of the +force which produces events. They do not recognize it as a power +inherent in heroes and rulers, but as the resultant of a +multiplicity of variously directed forces. In describing a war or +the subjugation of a people, a general historian looks for the cause +of the event not in the power of one man, but in the interaction of +many persons connected with the event. + +According to this view the power of historical personages, +represented as the product of many forces, can no longer, it would +seem, be regarded as a force that itself produces events. Yet in +most cases universal historians still employ the conception of power +as a force that itself produces events, and treat it as their cause. +In their exposition, an historic character is first the product of his +time, and his power only the resultant of various forces, and then his +power is itself a force producing events. Gervinus, Schlosser, and +others, for instance, at one time prove Napoleon to be a product of +the Revolution, of the ideas of 1789 and so forth, and at another +plainly say that the campaign of 1812 and other things they do not +like were simply the product of Napoleon's misdirected will, and +that the very ideas of 1789 were arrested in their development by +Napoleon's caprice. The ideas of the Revolution and the general temper +of the age produced Napoleon's power. But Napoleon's power +suppressed the ideas of the Revolution and the general temper of the +age. + +This curious contradiction is not accidental. Not only does it occur +at every step, but the universal historians' accounts are all made +up of a chain of such contradictions. This contradiction occurs +because after entering the field of analysis the universal +historians stop halfway. + +To find component forces equal to the composite or resultant +force, the sum of the components must equal the resultant. This +condition is never observed by the universal historians, and so to +explain the resultant forces they are obliged to admit, in addition to +the insufficient components, another unexplained force affecting the +resultant action. + +Specialist historians describing the campaign of 1813 or the +restoration of the Bourbons plainly assert that these events were +produced by the will of Alexander. But the universal historian +Gervinus, refuting this opinion of the specialist historian, tries +to prove that the campaign of 1813 and the restoration of the Bourbons +were due to other things beside Alexander's will- such as the activity +of Stein, Metternich, Madame de Stael, Talleyrand, Fichte +Chateaubriand, and others. The historian evidently decomposes +Alexander's power into the components: Talleyrand, Chateaubriand, +and the rest- but the sum of the components, that is, the interactions +of Chateaubriand, Talleyrand, Madame de Stael, and the others, +evidently does not equal the resultant, namely the phenomenon of +millions of Frenchmen submitting to the Bourbons. That +Chateaubriand, Madame de Stael, and others spoke certain words to +one another only affected their mutual relations but does not +account for the submission of millions. And therefore to explain how +from these relations of theirs the submission of millions of people +resulted- that is, how component forces equal to one A gave a +resultant equal to a thousand times A- the historian is again +obliged to fall back on power- the force he had denied- and to +recognize it as the resultant of the forces, that is, he has to +admit an unexplained force acting on the resultant. And that is just +what the universal historians do, and consequently they not only +contradict the specialist historians but contradict themselves. + +Peasants having no clear idea of the cause of rain, say, according +to whether they want rain or fine weather: "The wind has blown the +clouds away," or, "The wind has brought up the clouds." And in the +same way the universal historians sometimes, when it pleases them +and fits in with their theory, say that power is the result of events, +and sometimes, when they want to prove something else, say that +power produces events. + +A third class of historians- the so-called historians of culture- +following the path laid down by the universal historians who sometimes +accept writers and ladies as forces producing events- again take +that force to be something quite different. They see it in what is +called culture- in mental activity. + +The historians of culture are quite consistent in regard to their +progenitors, the writers of universal histories, for if historical +events may be explained by the fact that certain persons treated one +another in such and such ways, why not explain them by the fact that +such and such people wrote such and such books? Of the immense +number of indications accompanying every vital phenomenon, these +historians select the indication of intellectual activity and say that +this indication is the cause. But despite their endeavors to prove +that the cause of events lies in intellectual activity, only by a +great stretch can one admit that there is any connection between +intellectual activity and the movement of peoples, and in no case +can one admit that intellectual activity controls people's actions, +for that view is not confirmed by such facts as the very cruel murders +of the French Revolution resulting from the doctrine of the equality +of man, or the very cruel wars and executions resulting from the +preaching of love. + +But even admitting as correct all the cunningly devised arguments +with which these histories are filled- admitting that nations are +governed by some undefined force called an idea- history's essential +question still remains unanswered, and to the former power of monarchs +and to the influence of advisers and other people introduced by the +universal historians, another, newer force- the idea- is added, the +connection of which with the masses needs explanation. It is +possible to understand that Napoleon had power and so events occurred; +with some effort one may even conceive that Napoleon together with +other influences was the cause of an event; but how a book, Le Contrat +social, had the effect of making Frenchmen begin to drown one +another cannot be understood without an explanation of the causal +nexus of this new force with the event. + +Undoubtedly some relation exists between all who live +contemporaneously, and so it is possible to find some connection +between the intellectual activity of men and their historical +movements, just as such a connection may be found between the +movements of humanity and commerce, handicraft, gardening, or anything +else you please. But why intellectual activity is considered by the +historians of culture to be the cause or expression of the whole +historical movement is hard to understand. Only the following +considerations can have led the historians to such a conclusion: (1) +that history is written by learned men, and so it is natural and +agreeable for them to think that the activity of their class +supplies the basis of the movement of all humanity, just as a +similar belief is natural and agreeable to traders, agriculturists, +and soldiers (if they do not express it, that is merely because +traders and soldiers do not write history), and (2) that spiritual +activity, enlightenment, civilization, culture, ideas, are all +indistinct, indefinite conceptions under whose banner it is very +easy to use words having a still less definite meaning, and which +can therefore be readily introduced into any theory. + +But not to speak of the intrinsic quality of histories of this +kind (which may possibly even be of use to someone for something) +the histories of culture, to which all general histories tend more and +more to approximate, are significant from the fact that after +seriously and minutely examining various religious, philosophic, and +political doctrines as causes of events, as soon as they have to +describe an actual historic event such as the campaign of 1812 for +instance, they involuntarily describe it as resulting from an exercise +of power- and say plainly that that was the result of Napoleon's will. +Speaking so, the historians of culture involuntarily contradict +themselves, and show that the new force they have devised does not +account for what happens in history, and that history can only be +explained by introducing a power which they apparently do not +recognize. + +CHAPTER III + +A locomotive is moving. Someone asks: "What moves it?" A peasant +says the devil moves it. Another man says the locomotive moves because +its wheels go round. A third asserts that the cause of its movement +lies in the smoke which the wind carries away. + +The peasant is irrefutable. He has devised a complete explanation. +To refute him someone would have to prove to him that there is no +devil, or another peasant would have to explain to him that it is +not the devil but a German, who moves the locomotive. Only then, as +a result of the contradiction, will they see that they are both wrong. +But the man who says that the movement of the wheels is the cause +refutes himself, for having once begun to analyze he ought to go on +and explain further why the wheels go round; and till he has reached +the ultimate cause of the movement of the locomotive in the pressure +of steam in the boiler, he has no right to stop in his search for +the cause. The man who explains the movement of the locomotive by +the smoke that is carried back has noticed that the wheels do not +supply an explanation and has taken the first sign that occurs to +him and in his turn has offered that as an explanation. + +The only conception that can explain the movement of the +locomotive is that of a force commensurate with the movement observed. + +The only conception that can explain the movement of the peoples +is that of some force commensurate with the whole movement of the +peoples. + +Yet to supply this conception various historians take forces of +different kinds, all of which are incommensurate with the movement +observed. Some see it as a force directly inherent in heroes, as the +peasant sees the devil in the locomotive; others as a force +resulting from several other forces, like the movement of the +wheels; others again as an intellectual influence, like the smoke that +is blown away. + +So long as histories are written of separate individuals, whether +Caesars, Alexanders, Luthers, or Voltaires, and not the histories of +all, absolutely all those who take part in an event, it is quite +impossible to describe the movement of humanity without the conception +of a force compelling men to direct their activity toward a certain +end. And the only such conception known to historians is that of +power. + +This conception is the one handle by means of which the material +of history, as at present expounded, can be dealt with, and anyone who +breaks that handle off, as Buckle did, without finding some other +method of treating historical material, merely deprives himself of the +one possible way of dealing with it. The necessity of the conception +of power as an explanation of historical events is best demonstrated +by the universal historians and historians of culture themselves, +for they professedly reject that conception but inevitably have +recourse to it at every step. + +In dealing with humanity's inquiry, the science of history up to now +is like money in circulation- paper money and coin. The biographies +and special national histories are like paper money. They can be +used and can circulate and fulfill their purpose without harm to +anyone and even advantageously, as long as no one asks what is the +security behind them. You need only forget to ask how the will of +heroes produces events, and such histories as Thiers' will be +interesting and instructive and may perhaps even possess a tinge of +poetry. But just as doubts of the real value of paper money arise +either because, being easy to make, too much of it gets made or +because people try to exchange it for gold, so also doubts +concerning the real value of such histories arise either because too +many of them are written or because in his simplicity of heart someone +inquires: by what force did Napoleon do this?- that is, wants to +exchange the current paper money for the real gold of actual +comprehension. + +The writers of universal histories and of the history of culture are +like people who, recognizing the defects of paper money, decide to +substitute for it money made of metal that has not the specific +gravity of gold. It may indeed make jingling coin, but will do no more +than that. Paper money may deceive the ignorant, but nobody is +deceived by tokens of base metal that have no value but merely jingle. +As gold is gold only if it is serviceable not merely for exchange +but also for use, so universal historians will be valuable only when +they can reply to history's essential question: what is power? The +universal historians give contradictory replies to that question, +while the historians of culture evade it and answer something quite +different. And as counters of imitation gold can be used only among +a group of people who agree to accept them as gold, or among those who +do not know the nature of gold, so universal historians and historians +of culture, not answering humanity's essential question, serve as +currency for some purposes of their own, only in universities and +among the mass of readers who have a taste for what they call "serious +reading." + +CHAPTER IV + +Having abandoned the conception of the ancients as to the divine +subjection of the will of a nation to some chosen man and the +subjection of that man's will to the Deity, history cannot without +contradictions take a single step till it has chosen one of two +things: either a return to the former belief in the direct +intervention of the Deity in human affairs or a definite explanation +of the meaning of the force producing historical events and termed +"power." + +A return to the first is impossible, the belief has been +destroyed; and so it is essential to explain what is meant by power. + +Napoleon ordered an army to be raised and go to war. We are so +accustomed to that idea and have become so used to it that the +question: why did six hundred thousand men go to fight when Napoleon +uttered certain words, seems to us senseless. He had the power and +so what he ordered was done. + +This reply is quite satisfactory if we believe that the power was +given him by God. But as soon as we do not admit that, it becomes +essential to determine what is this power of one man over others. + +It cannot be the direct physical power of a strong man over a weak +one- a domination based on the application or threat of physical +force, like the power of Hercules; nor can it be based on the effect +of moral force, as in their simplicity some historians think who say +that the leading figures in history are heroes, that is, men gifted +with a special strength of soul and mind called genius. This power +cannot be based on the predominance of moral strength, for, not to +mention heroes such as Napoleon about whose moral qualities opinions +differ widely, history shows us that neither a Louis XI nor a +Metternich, who ruled over millions of people, had any particular +moral qualities, but on the contrary were generally morally weaker +than any of the millions they ruled over. + +If the source of power lies neither in the physical nor in the moral +qualities of him who possesses it, it must evidently be looked for +elsewhere- in the relation to the people of the man who wields the +power. + +And that is how power is understood by the science of jurisprudence, +that exchange bank of history which offers to exchange history's +understanding of power for true gold. + +Power is the collective will of the people transferred, by expressed +or tacit consent, to their chosen rulers. + +In the domain of jurisprudence, which consists of discussions of how +a state and power might be arranged were it possible for all that to +be arranged, it is all very clear; but when applied to history that +definition of power needs explanation. + +The science of jurisprudence regards the state and power as the +ancients regarded fire- namely, as something existing absolutely. +But for history, the state and power are merely phenomena, just as for +modern physics fire is not an element but a phenomenon. + +From this fundamental difference between the view held by history +and that held by jurisprudence, it follows that jurisprudence can tell +minutely how in its opinion power should be constituted and what +power- existing immutably outside time- is, but to history's questions +about the meaning of the mutations of power in time it can answer +nothing. + +If power be the collective will of the people transferred to their +ruler, was Pugachev a representative of the will of the people? If +not, then why was Napoleon I? Why was Napoleon III a criminal when +he was taken prisoner at Boulogne, and why, later on, were those +criminals whom he arrested? + +Do palace revolutions- in which sometimes only two or three people +take part- transfer the will of the people to a new ruler? In +international relations, is the will of the people also transferred to +their conqueror? Was the will of the Confederation of the Rhine +transferred to Napoleon in 1806? Was the will of the Russian people +transferred to Napoleon in 1809, when our army in alliance with the +French went to fight the Austrians? + +To these questions three answers are possible: + +Either to assume (1) that the will of the people is always +unconditionally transferred to the ruler or rulers they have chosen, +and that therefore every emergence of a new power, every struggle +against the power once appointed, should be absolutely regarded as +an infringement of the real power; or (2) that the will of the +people is transferred to the rulers conditionally, under definite +and known conditions, and to show that all limitations, conflicts, and +even destructions of power result from a nonobservance by the rulers +of the conditions under which their power was entrusted to them; or +(3) that the will of the people is delegated to the rulers +conditionally, but that the conditions are unknown and indefinite, and +that the appearance of several authorities, their struggles and +their falls, result solely from the greater or lesser fulfillment by +the rulers of these unknown conditions on which the will of the people +is transferred from some people to others. + +And these are the three ways in which the historians do explain +the relation of the people to their rulers. + +Some historians- those biographical and specialist historians +already referred to- in their simplicity failing to understand the +question of the meaning of power, seem to consider that the collective +will of the people is unconditionally transferred to historical +persons, and therefore when describing some single state they assume +that particular power to be the one absolute and real power, and +that any other force opposing this is not a power but a violation of +power- mere violence. + +Their theory, suitable for primitive and peaceful periods of +history, has the inconvenience- in application to complex and stormy +periods in the life of nations during which various powers arise +simultaneously and struggle with one another- that a Legitimist +historian will prove that the National Convention, the Directory, +and Bonaparte were mere infringers of the true power, while a +Republican and a Bonapartist will prove: the one that the Convention +and the other that the Empire was the real power, and that all the +others were violations of power. Evidently the explanations +furnished by these historians being mutually contradictory can only +satisfy young children. + +Recognizing the falsity of this view of history, another set of +historians say that power rests on a conditional delegation of the +will of the people to their rulers, and that historical leaders have +power only conditionally on carrying out the program that the will +of the people has by tacit agreement prescribed to them. But what this +program consists in these historians do not say, or if they do they +continually contradict one another. + +Each historian, according to his view of what constitutes a nation's +progress, looks for these conditions in the greatness, wealth, +freedom, or enlightenment of citizens of France or some other country. +But not to mention the historians' contradictions as to the nature +of this program- or even admitting that some one general program of +these conditions exists- the facts of history almost always contradict +that theory. If the conditions under which power is entrusted +consist in the wealth, freedom, and enlightenment of the people, how +is it that Louis XIV and Ivan the Terrible end their reigns +tranquilly, while Louis XVI and Charles I are executed by their +people? To this question historians reply that Louis XIV's activity, +contrary to the program, reacted on Louis XVI. But why did it not +react on Louis XIV or on Louis XV- why should it react just on Louis +XVI? And what is the time limit for such reactions? To these questions +there are and can be no answers. Equally little does this view explain +why for several centuries the collective will is not withdrawn from +certain rulers and their heirs, and then suddenly during a period of +fifty years is transferred to the Convention, to the Directory, to +Napoleon, to Alexander, to Louis XVIII, to Napoleon again, to +Charles X, to Louis Philippe, to a Republican government, and to +Napoleon III. When explaining these rapid transfers of the people's +will from from one individual to another, especially in view of +international relations, conquests, and alliances, the historians +are obliged to admit that some of these transfers are not normal +delegations of the people's will but are accidents dependent on +cunning, on mistakes, on craft, or on the weakness of a diplomatist, a +ruler, or a party leader. So that the greater part of the events of +history- civil wars, revolutions, and conquests- are presented by +these historians not as the results of free transferences of the +people's will, but as results of the ill-directed will of one or +more individuals, that is, once again, as usurpations of power. And so +these historians also see and admit historical events which are +exceptions to the theory. + +These historians resemble a botanist who, having noticed that some +plants grow from seeds producing two cotyledons, should insist that +all that grows does so by sprouting into two leaves, and that the +palm, the mushroom, and even the oak, which blossom into full growth +and no longer resemble two leaves, are deviations from the theory. + +Historians of the third class assume that the will of the people +is transferred to historic personages conditionally, but that the +conditions are unknown to us. They say that historical personages have +power only because they fulfill the will of the people which has +been delegated to them. + +But in that case, if the force that moves nations lies not in the +historic leaders but in the nations themselves, what significance have +those leaders? + +The leaders, these historians tell us, express the will of the +people: the activity of the leaders represents the activity of the +people. + +But in that case the question arises whether all the activity of the +leaders serves as an expression of the people's will or only some part +of it. If the whole activity of the leaders serves as the expression +of the people's will, as some historians suppose, then all the details +of the court scandals contained in the biographies of a Napoleon or +a Catherine serve to express the life of the nation, which is +evident nonsense; but if it is only some particular side of the +activity of an historical leader which serves to express the +people's life, as other so-called "philosophical" historians +believe, then to determine which side of the activity of a leader +expresses the nation's life, we have first of all to know in what +the nation's life consists. + +Met by this difficulty historians of that class devise some most +obscure, impalpable, and general abstraction which can cover all +conceivable occurrences, and declare this abstraction to be the aim of +humanity's movement. The most usual generalizations adopted by +almost all the historians are: freedom, equality, enlightenment, +progress, civilization, and culture. Postulating some generalization +as the goal of the movement of humanity, the historians study the +men of whom the greatest number of monuments have remained: kings, +ministers, generals, authors, reformers, popes, and journalists, to +the extent to which in their opinion these persons have promoted or +hindered that abstraction. But as it is in no way proved that the +aim of humanity does consist in freedom, equality, enlightenment, or +civilization, and as the connection of the people with the rulers +and enlighteners of humanity is only based on the arbitrary assumption +that the collective will of the people is always transferred to the +men whom we have noticed, it happens that the activity of the millions +who migrate, burn houses, abandon agriculture, and destroy one another +never is expressed in the account of the activity of some dozen people +who did not burn houses, practice agriculture, or slay their fellow +creatures. + +History proves this at every turn. Is the ferment of the peoples +of the west at the end of the eighteenth century and their drive +eastward explained by the activity of Louis XIV, XV, and XVI, their +mistresses and ministers, and by the lives of Napoleon, Rousseau, +Diderot, Beaumarchais, and others? + +Is the movement of the Russian people eastward to Kazan and +Siberia expressed by details of the morbid character of Ivan the +Terrible and by his correspondence with Kurbski? + +Is the movement of the peoples at the time of the Crusades explained +by the life and activity of the Godfreys and the Louis-es and their +ladies? For us that movement of the peoples from west to east, without +leaders, with a crowd of vagrants, and with Peter the Hermit, +remains incomprehensible. And yet more incomprehensible is the +cessation of that movement when a rational and sacred aim for the +Crusade- the deliverance of Jerusalem- had been clearly defined by +historic leaders. Popes, kings, and knights incited the peoples to +free the Holy Land; but the people did not go, for the unknown cause +which had previously impelled them to go no longer existed. The +history of the Godfreys and the Minnesingers can evidently not cover +the life of the peoples. And the history of the Godfreys and the +Minnesingers has remained the history of Godfreys and Minnesingers, +but the history of the life of the peoples and their impulses has +remained unknown. + +Still less does the history of authors and reformers explain to us +the life of the peoples. + +The history of culture explains to us the impulses and conditions of +life and thought of a writer or a reformer. We learn that Luther had a +hot temper and said such and such things; we learn that Rousseau was +suspicious and wrote such and such books; but we do not learn why +after the Reformation the peoples massacred one another, nor why +during the French Revolution they guillotined one another. + +If we unite both these kinds of history, as is done by the newest +historians, we shall have the history of monarchs and writers, but not +the history of the life of the peoples. + +CHAPTER V + +The life of the nations is not contained in the lives of a few +men, for the connection between those men and the nations has not been +found. The theory that this connection is based on the transference of +the collective will of a people to certain historical personages is an +hypothesis unconfirmed by the experience of history. + +The theory of the transference of the collective will of the +people to historic persons may perhaps explain much in the domain of +jurisprudence and be essential for its purposes, but in its +application to history, as soon as revolutions, conquests, or civil +wars occur- that is, as soon as history begins- that theory explains +nothing. + +The theory seems irrefutable just because the act of transference of +the people's will cannot be verified, for it never occurred. + +Whatever happens and whoever may stand at the head of affairs, the +theory can always say that such and such a person took the lead +because the collective will was transferred to him. + +The replies this theory gives to historical questions are like the +replies of a man who, watching the movements of a herd of cattle and +paying no attention to the varying quality of the pasturage in +different parts of the field, or to the driving of the herdsman, +should attribute the direction the herd takes to what animal happens +to be at its head. + +"The herd goes in that direction because the animal in front leads +it and the collective will of all the other animals is vested in +that leader." This is what historians of the first class say- those +who assume the unconditional transference of the people's will. + +"If the animals leading the herd change, this happens because the +collective will of all the animals is transferred from one leader to +another, according to whether the animal is or is not leading them +in the direction selected by the whole herd." Such is the reply +historians who assume that the collective will of the people is +delegated to rulers under conditions which they regard as known. (With +this method of observation it often happens that the observer, +influenced by the direction he himself prefers, regards those as +leaders who, owing to the people's change of direction, are no +longer in front, but on one side, or even in the rear.) + +"If the animals in front are continually changing and the +direction of the whole herd is constantly altered, this is because +in order to follow a given direction the animals transfer their will +to the animals that have attracted our attention, and to study the +movements of the herd we must watch the movements of all the prominent +animals moving on all sides of the herd." So say the third class of +historians who regard all historical persons, from monarchs to +journalists, as the expression of their age. + +The theory of the transference of the will of the people to historic +persons is merely a paraphrase- a restatement of the question in other +words. + +What causes historical events? Power. What is power? Power is the +collective will of the people transferred to one person. Under what +condition is the will of the people delegated to one person? On +condition that that person expresses the will of the whole people. +That is, power is power: in other words, power is a word the meaning +of which we do not understand. + +If the realm of human knowledge were confined to abstract reasoning, +then having subjected to criticism the explanation of "power" that +juridical science gives us, humanity would conclude that power is +merely a word and has no real existence. But to understand phenomena +man has, besides abstract reasoning, experience by which he verifies +his reflections. And experience tells us that power is not merely a +word but an actually existing phenomenon. + +Not to speak of the fact that no description of the collective +activity of men can do without the conception of power, the +existence of power is proved both by history and by observing +contemporary events. + +Whenever an event occurs a man appears or men appear, by whose +will the event seems to have taken place. Napoleon III issues a decree +and the French go to Mexico. The King of Prussia and Bismarck issue +decrees and an army enters Bohemia. Napoleon I issues a decree and +an army enters Russia. Alexander I gives a command and the French +submit to the Bourbons. Experience shows us that whatever event occurs +it is always related to the will of one or of several men who have +decreed it. + +The historians, in accord with the old habit of acknowledging divine +intervention in human affairs, want to see the cause of events in +the expression of the will of someone endowed with power, but that +supposition is not confirmed either by reason or by experience. + +On the one side reflection shows that the expression of a man's +will- his words- are only part of the general activity expressed in an +event, as for instance in a war or a revolution, and so without +assuming an incomprehensible, supernatural force- a miracle- one +cannot admit that words can be the immediate cause of the movements of +millions of men. On the other hand, even if we admitted that words +could be the cause of events, history shows that the expression of the +will of historical personages does not in most cases produce any +effect, that is to say, their commands are often not executed, and +sometimes the very opposite of what they order occurs. + +Without admitting divine intervention in the affairs of humanity +we cannot regard "power" as the cause of events. + +Power, from the standpoint of experience, is merely the relation +that exists between the expression of someone's will and the execution +of that will by others. + +To explain the conditions of that relationship we must first +establish a conception of the expression of will, referring it to +man and not to the Deity. + +If the Deity issues a command, expresses His will, as ancient +history tells us, the expression of that will is independent of time +and is not caused by anything, for the Divinity is not controlled by +an event. But speaking of commands that are the expression of the will +of men acting in time and in relation to one another, to explain the +connection of commands with events we must restore: (1) the +condition of all that takes place: the continuity of movement in +time both of the events and of the person who commands, and (2) the +inevitability of the connection between the person commanding and +those who execute his command. + +CHAPTER VI + +Only the expression of the will of the Deity, not dependent on time, +can relate to a whole series of events occurring over a period of +years or centuries, and only the Deity, independent of everything, can +by His sole will determine the direction of humanity's movement; but +man acts in time and himself takes part in what occurs. + +Reinstating the first condition omitted, that of time, we see that +no command can be executed without some preceding order having been +given rendering the execution of the last command possible. + +No command ever appears spontaneously, or itself covers a whole +series of occurrences; but each command follows from another, and +never refers to a whole series of events but always to one moment only +of an event. + +When, for instance, we say that Napoleon ordered armies to go to +war, we combine in one simultaneous expression a whole series of +consecutive commands dependent one on another. Napoleon could not have +commanded an invasion of Russia and never did so. Today he ordered +such and such papers to be written to Vienna, to Berlin, and to +Petersburg; tomorrow such and such decrees and orders to the army, the +fleet, the commissariat, and so on and so on- millions of commands, +which formed a whole series corresponding to a series of events +which brought the French armies into Russia. + +If throughout his reign Napoleon gave commands concerning an +invasion of England and expended on no other undertaking so much +time and effort, and yet during his whole reign never once attempted +to execute that design but undertook an expedition into Russia, with +which country he considered it desirable to be in alliance (a +conviction he repeatedly expressed)- this came about because his +commands did not correspond to the course of events in the first case, +but did so correspond in the latter. + +For an order to be certainly executed, it is necessary that a man +should order what can be executed. But to know what can and what +cannot be executed is impossible, not only in the case of Napoleon's +invasion of Russia in which millions participated, but even in the +simplest event, for in either case millions of obstacles may arise +to prevent its execution. Every order executed is always one of an +immense number unexecuted. All the impossible orders inconsistent with +the course of events remain unexecuted. Only the possible ones get +linked up with a consecutive series of commands corresponding to a +series of events, and are executed. + +Our false conception that an event is caused by a command which +precedes it is due to the fact that when the event has taken place and +out of thousands of others those few commands which were consistent +with that event have been executed, we forget about the others that +were not executed because they could not be. Apart from that, the +chief source of our error in this matter is due to the fact that in +the historical accounts a whole series of innumerable, diverse, and +petty events, such for instance as all those which led the French +armies to Russia, is generalized into one event in accord with the +result produced by that series of events, and corresponding with +this generalization the whole series of commands is also generalized +into a single expression of will. + +We say that Napoleon wished to invade Russia and invaded it. In +reality in all Napoleon's activity we never find anything resembling +an expression of that wish, but find a series of orders, or +expressions of his will, very variously and indefinitely directed. +Amid a long series of unexecuted orders of Napoleon's one series, +for the campaign of 1812, was carried out- not because those orders +differed in any way from the other, unexecuted orders but because they +coincided with the course of events that led the French army into +Russia; just as in stencil work this or that figure comes out not +because the color was laid on from this side or in that way, but +because it was laid on from all sides over the figure cut in the +stencil. + +So that examining the relation in time of the commands to the +events, we find that a command can never be the cause of the event, +but that a certain definite dependence exists between the two. + +To understand in what this dependence consists it is necessary to +reinstate another omitted condition of every command proceeding not +from the Deity but from a man, which is, that the man who gives the +command himself takes part in + +This relation of the commander to those he commands is just what +is called power. This relation consists in the following: + +For common action people always unite in certain combinations, in +which regardless of the difference of the aims set for the common +action, the relation between those taking part in it is always the +same. + +Men uniting in these combinations always assume such relations +toward one another that the larger number take a more direct share, +and the smaller number a less direct share, in the collective action +for which they have combined. + +Of all the combinations in which men unite for collective action one +of the most striking and definite examples is an army. + +Every army is composed of lower grades of the service- the rank +and file- of whom there are always the greatest number; of the next +higher military rank- corporals and noncommissioned officers of whom +there are fewer, and of still-higher officers of whom there are +still fewer, and so on to the highest military command which is +concentrated in one person. + +A military organization may be quite correctly compared to a cone, +of which the base with the largest diameter consists of the rank and +file; the next higher and smaller section of the cone consists of +the next higher grades of the army, and so on to the apex, the point +of which will represent the commander in chief. + +The soldiers, of whom there are the most, form the lower section +of the cone and its base. The soldier himself does the stabbing, +hacking, burning, and pillaging, and always receives orders for +these actions from men above him; he himself never gives an order. The +noncommissioned officers (of whom there are fewer) perform the +action itself less frequently than the soldiers, but they already give +commands. An officer still less often acts directly himself, but +commands still more frequently. A general does nothing but command the +troops, indicates the objective, and hardly ever uses a weapon +himself. The commander in chief never takes direct part in the +action itself, but only gives general orders concerning the movement +of the mass of the troops. A similar relation of people to one another +is seen in every combination of men for common activity- in +agriculture, trade, and every administration. + +And so without particularly analyzing all the contiguous sections of +a cone and of the ranks of an army, or the ranks and positions in +any administrative or public business whatever from the lowest to +the highest, we see a law by which men, to take associated action, +combine in such relations that the more directly they participate in +performing the action the less they can command and the more +numerous they are, while the less their direct participation in the +action itself, the more they command and the fewer of them there +are; rising in this way from the lowest ranks to the man at the top, +who takes the least direct share in the action and directs his +activity chiefly to commanding. + +This relation of the men who command to those they command is what +constitutes the essence of the conception called power. + +Having restored the condition of time under which all events +occur, find that a command is executed only when it is related to a +corresponding series of events. Restoring the essential condition of +relation between those who command and those who execute, we find that +by the very nature of the case those who command take the smallest +part in the action itself and that their activity is exclusively +directed to commanding. + +CHAPTER VII + +When an event is taking place people express their opinions and +wishes about it, and as the event results from the collective activity +of many people, some one of the opinions or wishes expressed is sure +to be fulfilled if but approximately. When one of the opinions +expressed is fulfilled, that opinion gets connected with the event +as a command preceding it. + +Men are hauling a log. Each of them expresses his opinion as to +how and where to haul it. They haul the log away, and it happens +that this is done as one of them said. He ordered it. There we have +command and power in their primary form. The man who worked most +with his hands could not think so much about what he was doing, or +reflect on or command what would result from the common activity; +while the man who commanded more would evidently work less with his +hands on account of his greater verbal activity. + +When some larger concourse of men direct their activity to a +common aim there is a yet sharper division of those who, because their +activity is given to directing and commanding, take less less part +in the direct work. + +When a man works alone he always has a certain set of reflections +which as it seems to him directed his past activity, justify his +present activity, and guide him in planning his future actions. Just +the same is done by a concourse of people, allowing those who do not +take a direct part in the activity to devise considerations, +justifications, and surmises concerning their collective activity. + +For reasons known or unknown to us the French began to drown and +kill one another. And corresponding to the event its justification +appears in people's belief that this was necessary for the welfare +of France, for liberty, and for equality. People ceased to kill one +another, and this event was accompanied by its justification in the +necessity for a centralization of power, resistance to Europe, and +so on. Men went from the west to the east killing their fellow men, +and the event was accompanied by phrases about the glory of France, +the baseness of England, and so on. History shows us that these +justifications of the events have no common sense and are all +contradictory, as in the case of killing a man as the result of +recognizing his rights, and the killing of millions in Russia for +the humiliation of England. But these justifications have a very +necessary significance in their own day. + +These justifications release those who produce the events from moral +responsibility. These temporary aims are like the broom fixed in front +of a locomotive to clear the snow from the rails in front: they +clear men's moral responsibilities from their path. + +Without such justification there would be no reply to the simplest +question that presents itself when examining each historical event. +How is it that millions of men commit collective crimes- make war, +commit murder, and so on? + +With the present complex forms of political and social life in +Europe can any event that is not prescribed, decreed, or ordered by +monarchs, ministers, parliaments, or newspapers be imagined? Is +there any collective action which cannot find its justification in +political unity, in patriotism, in the balance of power, or in +civilization? So that every event that occurs inevitably coincides +with some expressed wish and, receiving a justification, presents +itself as the result of the will of one man or of several men. + +In whatever direction a ship moves, the flow of the waves it cuts +will always be noticeable ahead of it. To those on board the ship +the movement of those waves will be the only perceptible motion. + +Only by watching closely moment by moment the movement of that +flow and comparing it with the movement of the ship do we convince +ourselves that every bit of it is occasioned by the forward movement +of the ship, and that we were led into error by the fact that we +ourselves were imperceptibly moving. + +We see the same if we watch moment by moment the movement of +historical characters (that is, re-establish the inevitable +condition of all that occurs- the continuity of movement in time) +and do not lose sight of the essential connection of historical +persons with the masses. + +When the ship moves in one direction there is one and the same +wave ahead of it, when it turns frequently the wave ahead of it also +turns frequently. But wherever it may turn there always will be the +wave anticipating its movement. + +Whatever happens it always appears that just that event was foreseen +and decreed. Wherever the ship may go, the rush of water which neither +directs nor increases its movement foams ahead of it, and at a +distance seems to us not merely to move of itself but to govern the +ship's movement also. + +Examining only those expressions of the will of historical persons +which, as commands, were related to events, historians have assumed +that the events depended on those commands. But examining the events +themselves and the connection in which the historical persons stood to +the people, we have found that they and their orders were dependent on +events. The incontestable proof of this deduction is that, however +many commands were issued, the event does not take place unless +there are other causes for it, but as soon as an event occurs- be it +what it may- then out of all the continually expressed wishes of +different people some will always be found which by their meaning +and their time of utterance are related as commands to the events. + +Arriving at this conclusion we can reply directly and positively +to these two essential questions of history: + +(1) What is power? + +(2) What force produces the movement of the nations? + +(1) Power is the relation of a given person to other individuals, in +which the more this person expresses opinions, predictions, and +justifications of the collective action that is performed, the less is +his participation in that action. + +(2) The movement of nations is caused not by power, nor by +intellectual activity, nor even by a combination of the two as +historians have supposed, but by the activity of all the people who +participate in the events, and who always combine in such a way that +those taking the largest direct share in the event take on +themselves the least responsibility and vice versa. + +Morally the wielder of power appears to cause the event; +physically it is those who submit to the power. But as the moral +activity is inconceivable without the physical, the cause of the event +is neither in the one nor in the other but in the union of the two. + +Or in other words, the conception of a cause is inapplicable to +the phenomena we are examining. + +In the last analysis we reach the circle of infinity- that final +limit to which in every domain of thought man's reason arrives if it +is not playing with the subject. Electricity produces heat, heat +produces electricity. Atoms attract each other and atoms repel one +another. + +Speaking of the interaction of heat and electricity and of atoms, we +cannot say why this occurs, and we say that it is so because it is +inconceivable otherwise, because it must be so and that it is a law. +The same applies to historical events. Why war and revolution occur we +do not know. We only know that to produce the one or the other action, +people combine in a certain formation in which they all take part, and +we say that this is so because it is unthinkable otherwise, or in +other words that it is a law. + +CHAPTER VIII + +If history dealt only with external phenomena, the establishment +of this simple and obvious law would suffice and we should have +finished our argument. But the law of history relates to man. A +particle of matter cannot tell us that it does not feel the law of +attraction or repulsion and that that law is untrue, but man, who is +the subject of history, says plainly: I am free and am therefore not +subject to the law. + +The presence of the problem of man's free will, though +unexpressed, is felt at every step of history. + +All seriously thinking historians have involuntarily encountered +this question. All the contradictions and obscurities of history and +the false path historical science has followed are due solely to the +lack of a solution of that question. + +If the will of every man were free, that is, if each man could act +as he pleased, all history would be a series of disconnected +incidents. + +If in a thousand years even one man in a million could act freely, +that is, as he chose, it is evident that one single free act of that +man's in violation of the laws governing human action would destroy +the possibility of the existence of any laws for the whole of +humanity. + +If there be a single law governing the actions of men, free will +cannot exist, for then man's will is subject to that law. + +In this contradiction lies the problem of free will, which from most +ancient times has occupied the best human minds and from most +ancient times has been presented in its whole tremendous significance. + +The problem is that regarding man as a subject of observation from +whatever point of view- theological, historical, ethical, or +philosophic- we find a general law of necessity to which he (like +all that exists) is subject. But regarding him from within ourselves +as what we are conscious of, we feel ourselves to be free. + +This consciousness is a source of self-cognition quite apart from +and independent of reason. Through his reason man observes himself, +but only through consciousness does he know himself. + +Apart from consciousness of self no observation or application of +reason is conceivable. + +To understand, observe, and draw conclusions, man must first of +all be conscious of himself as living. A man is only conscious of +himself as a living being by the fact that he wills, that is, is +conscious of his volition. But his will- which forms the essence of +his life- man recognizes (and can but recognize) as free. + +If, observing himself, man sees that his will is always directed +by one and the same law (whether he observes the necessity of taking +food, using his brain, or anything else) he cannot recognize this +never-varying direction of his will otherwise than as a limitation +of it. Were it not free it could not be limited. A man's will seems to +him to be limited just because he is not conscious of it except as +free. + +You say: I am not and am not free. But I have lifted my hand and let +it fall. Everyone understands that this illogical reply is an +irrefutable demonstration of freedom. + +That reply is the expression of a consciousness that is not +subject to reason. + +If the consciousness of freedom were not a separate and +independent source of self-consciousness it would be subject to +reasoning and to experience, but in fact such subjection does not +exist and is inconceivable. + +A series of experiments and arguments proves to every man that he, +as an object of observation, is subject to certain laws, and man +submits to them and never resists the laws of gravity or +impermeability once he has become acquainted with them. But the same +series of experiments and arguments proves to him that the complete +freedom of which he is conscious in himself is impossible, and that +his every action depends on his organization, his character, and the +motives acting upon him; yet man never submits to the deductions of +these experiments and arguments. Having learned from experiment and +argument that a stone falls downwards, a man indubitably believes this +and always expects the law that he has learned to be fulfilled. + +But learning just as certainly that his will is subject to laws, +he does not and cannot believe this. + +However often experiment and reasoning may show a man that under the +same conditions and with the same character he will do the same +thing as before, yet when under the same conditions and with the +same character he approaches for the thousandth time the action that +always ends in the same way, he feels as certainly convinced as before +the experiment that he can act as he pleases. Every man, savage or +sage, however incontestably reason and experiment may prove to him +that it is impossible to imagine two different courses of action in +precisely the same conditions, feels that without this irrational +conception (which constitutes the essence of freedom) he cannot +imagine life. He feels that however impossible it may be, it is so, +for without this conception of freedom not only would he be unable +to understand life, but he would be unable to live for a single +moment. + +He could not live, because all man's efforts, all his impulses to +life, are only efforts to increase freedom. Wealth and poverty, fame +and obscurity, power and subordination, strength and weakness, +health and disease, culture and ignorance, work and leisure, repletion +and hunger, virtue and vice, are only greater or lesser degrees of +freedom. + +A man having no freedom cannot be conceived of except as deprived of +life. + +If the conception of freedom appears to reason to be a senseless +contradiction like the possibility of performing two actions at one +and the same instant of time, or of an effect without a cause, that +only proves that consciousness is not subject to reason. + +This unshakable, irrefutable consciousness of freedom, +uncontrolled by experiment or argument, recognized by all thinkers and +felt by everyone without exception, this consciousness without which +no conception of man is possible constitutes the other side of the +question. + +Man is the creation of an all-powerful, all-good, and all-seeing +God. What is sin, the conception of which arises from the +consciousness of man's freedom? That is a question for theology. + +The actions of men are subject to general immutable laws expressed +in statistics. What is man's responsibility to society, the conception +of which results from the conception of freedom? That is a question +for jurisprudence. + +Man's actions proceed from his innate character and the motives +acting upon him. What is conscience and the perception of right and +wrong in actions that follows from the consciousness of freedom? +That is a question for ethics. + +Man in connection with the general life of humanity appears +subject to laws which determine that life. But the same man apart from +that connection appears to free. How should the past life of nations +and of humanity be regarded- as the result of the free, or as the +result of the constrained, activity of man? That is a question for +history. + +Only in our self-confident day of the popularization of knowledge- +thanks to that most powerful engine of ignorance, the diffusion of +printed matter- has the question of the freedom of will been put on +a level on which the question itself cannot exist. In our time the +majority of so-called advanced people- that is, the crowd of +ignoramuses- have taken the work of the naturalists who deal with +one side of the question for a solution of the whole problem. + +They say and write and print that the soul and freedom do not exist, +for the life of man is expressed by muscular movements and muscular +movements are conditioned by the activity of the nerves; the soul +and free will do not exist because at an unknown period of time we +sprang from the apes. They say this, not at all suspecting that +thousands of years ago that same law of necessity which with such +ardor they are now trying to prove by physiology and comparative +zoology was not merely acknowledged by all the religions and all the +thinkers, but has never been denied. They do not see that the role +of the natural sciences in this matter is merely to serve as an +instrument for the illumination of one side of it. For the fact +that, from the point of view of observation, reason and the will are +merely secretions of the brain, and that man following the general law +may have developed from lower animals at some unknown period of +time, only explains from a fresh side the truth admitted thousands +of years ago by all the religious and philosophic theories- that +from the point of view of reason man is subject to the law of +necessity; but it does not advance by a hair's breadth the solution of +the question, which has another, opposite, side, based on the +consciousness of freedom. + +If men descended from the apes at an unknown period of time, that is +as comprehensible as that they were made from a handful of earth at +a certain period of time (in the first case the unknown quantity is +the time, in the second case it is the origin); and the question of +how man's consciousness of freedom is to be reconciled with the law of +necessity to which he is subject cannot be solved by comparative +physiology and zoology, for in a frog, a rabbit, or an ape, we can +observe only the muscular nervous activity, but in man we observe +consciousness as well as the muscular and nervous activity. + +The naturalists and their followers, thinking they can solve this +question, are like plasterers set to plaster one side of the walls +of a church who, availing themselves of the absence of the chief +superintendent of the work, should in an access of zeal plaster over +the windows, icons, woodwork, and still unbuttressed walls, and should +be delighted that from their point of view as plasterers, everything +is now so smooth and regular. + +CHAPTER IX + +For the solution of the question of free will or inevitability, +history has this advantage over other branches of knowledge in which +the question is dealt with, that for history this question does not +refer to the essence of man's free will but its manifestation in the +past and under certain conditions. + +In regard to this question, history stands to the other sciences +as experimental science stands to abstract science. + +The subject for history is not man's will itself but our +presentation of it. + +And so for history, the insoluble mystery presented by the +incompatibility of free will and inevitability does not exist as it +does for theology, ethics, and philosophy. History surveys a +presentation of man's life in which the union of these two +contradictions has already taken place. + +In actual life each historic event, each human action, is very +clearly and definitely understood without any sense of +contradiction, although each event presents itself as partly free +and partly compulsory. + +To solve the question of how freedom and necessity are combined +and what constitutes the essence of these two conceptions, the +philosophy of history can and should follow a path contrary to that +taken by other sciences. Instead of first defining the conceptions +of freedom and inevitability in themselves, and then ranging the +phenomena of life under those definitions, history should deduce a +definition of the conception of freedom and inevitability themselves +from the immense quantity of phenomena of which it is cognizant and +that always appear dependent on these two elements. + +Whatever presentation of the activity of many men or of an +individual we may consider, we always regard it as the result partly +of man's free will and partly of the law of inevitability. + +Whether we speak of the migration of the peoples and the +incursions of the barbarians, or of the decrees of Napoleon III, or of +someone's action an hour ago in choosing one direction out of +several for his walk, we are unconscious of any contradiction. The +degree of freedom and inevitability governing the actions of these +people is clearly defined for us. + +Our conception of the degree of freedom often varies according to +differences in the point of view from which we regard the event, but +every human action appears to us as a certain combination of freedom +and inevitability. In every action we examine we see a certain measure +of freedom and a certain measure of inevitability. And always the more +freedom we see in any action the less inevitability do we perceive, +and the more inevitability the less freedom. + +The proportion of freedom to inevitability decreases and increases +according to the point of view from which the action is regarded, +but their relation is always one of inverse proportion. + +A sinking man who clutches at another and drowns him; or a hungry +mother exhausted by feeding her baby, who steals some food; or a man +trained to discipline who on duty at the word of command kills a +defenseless man- seem less guilty, that is, less free and more subject +to the law of necessity, to one who knows the circumstances in which +these people were placed, and more free to one who does not know +that the man was himself drowning, that the mother was hungry, that +the soldier was in the ranks, and so on. Similarly a man who committed +a murder twenty years ago and has since lived peaceably and harmlessly +in society seems less guilty and his action more due to the law of +inevitability, to someone who considers his action after twenty +years have elapsed than to one who examined it the day after it was +committed. And in the same way every action of an insane, intoxicated, +or highly excited man appears less free and more inevitable to one who +knows the mental condition of him who committed the action, and +seems more free and less inevitable to one who does not know it. In +all these cases the conception of freedom is increased or diminished +and the conception of compulsion is correspondingly decreased or +increased, according to the point of view from which the action is +regarded. So that the greater the conception of necessity the +smaller the conception of freedom and vice versa. + +Religion, the common sense of mankind, the science of jurisprudence, +and history itself understand alike this relation between necessity +and freedom. + +All cases without exception in which our conception of freedom and +necessity is increased and diminished depend on three considerations: + +(1) The relation to the external world of the man who commits the +deeds. + +(2) His relation to time. + +(3) His relation to the causes leading to the action. + +The first consideration is the clearness of our perception of the +man's relation to the external world and the greater or lesser +clearness of our understanding of the definite position occupied by +the man in relation to everything coexisting with him. This is what +makes it evident that a drowning man is less free and more subject +to necessity than one standing on dry ground, and that makes the +actions of a man closely connected with others in a thickly +populated district, or of one bound by family, official, or business +duties, seem certainly less free and more subject to necessity than +those of a man living in solitude and seclusion. + +If we consider a man alone, apart from his relation to everything +around him, each action of his seems to us free. But if we see his +relation to anything around him, if we see his connection with +anything whatever- with a man who speaks to him, a book he reads, +the work on which he is engaged, even with the air he breathes or +the light that falls on the things about him- we see that each of +these circumstances has an influence on him and controls at least some +side of his activity. And the more we perceive of these influences the +more our conception of his freedom diminishes and the more our +conception of the necessity that weighs on him increases. + +The second consideration is the more or less evident time relation +of the man to the world and the clearness of our perception of the +place the man's action occupies in time. That is the ground which +makes the fall of the first man, resulting in the production of the +human race, appear evidently less free than a man's entry into +marriage today. It is the reason why the life and activity of people +who lived centuries ago and are connected with me in time cannot +seem to me as free as the life of a contemporary, the consequences +of which are still unknown to me. + +The degree of our conception of freedom or inevitability depends +in this respect on the greater or lesser lapse of time between the +performance of the action and our judgment of it. + +If I examine an act I performed a moment ago in approximately the +same circumstances as those I am in now, my action appears to me +undoubtedly free. But if I examine an act performed a month ago, +then being in different circumstances, I cannot help recognizing +that if that act had not been committed much that resulted from it- +good, agreeable, and even essential- would not have taken place. If +I reflect on an action still more remote, ten years ago or more, +then the consequences of my action are still plainer to me and I +find it hard to imagine what would have happened had that action not +been performed. The farther I go back in memory, or what is the same +thing the farther I go forward in my judgment, the more doubtful +becomes my belief in the freedom of my action. + +In history we find a very similar progress of conviction +concerning the part played by free will in the general affairs of +humanity. A contemporary event seems to us to be indubitably the doing +of all the known participants, but with a more remote event we already +see its inevitable results which prevent our considering anything else +possible. And the farther we go back in examining events the less +arbitrary do they appear. + +The Austro-Prussian war appears to us undoubtedly the result of +the crafty conduct of Bismarck, and so on. The Napoleonic wars still +seem to us, though already questionably, to be the outcome of their +heroes' will. But in the Crusades we already see an event occupying +its definite place in history and without which we cannot imagine +the modern history of Europe, though to the chroniclers of the +Crusades that event appeared as merely due to the will of certain +people. In regard to the migration of the peoples it does not enter +anyone's head today to suppose that the renovation of the European +world depended on Attila's caprice. The farther back in history the +object of our observation lies, the more doubtful does the free will +of those concerned in the event become and the more manifest the law +of inevitability. + +The third consideration is the degree to which we apprehend that +endless chain of causation inevitably demanded by reason, in which +each phenomenon comprehended, and therefore man's every action, must +have its definite place as a result of what has gone before and as a +cause of what will follow. + +The better we are acquainted with the physiological, +psychological, and historical laws deduced by observation and by which +man is controlled, and the more correctly we perceive the +physiological, psychological, and historical causes of the action, and +the simpler the action we are observing and the less complex the +character and mind of the man in question, the more subject to +inevitability and the less free do our actions and those of others +appear. + +When we do not at all understand the cause of an action, whether a +crime, a good action, or even one that is simply nonmoral, we +ascribe a greater amount of freedom to it. In the case of a crime we +most urgently demand the punishment for such an act; in the case of +a virtuous act we rate its merit most highly. In an indifferent case +we recognize in it more individuality, originality, and +independence. But if even one of the innumerable causes of the act +is known to us we recognize a certain element of necessity and are +less insistent on punishment for the crime, or the acknowledgment of +the merit of the virtuous act, or the freedom of the apparently +original action. That a criminal was reared among male factors +mitigates his fault in our eyes. The self-sacrifice of a father or +mother, or self-sacrifice with the possibility of a reward, is more +comprehensible than gratuitous self-sacrifice, and therefore seems +less deserving of sympathy and less the result of free will. The +founder of a sect or party, or an inventor, impresses us less when +we know how or by what the way was prepared for his activity. If we +have a large range of examples, if our observation is constantly +directed to seeking the correlation of cause and effect in people's +actions, their actions appear to us more under compulsion and less +free the more correctly we connect the effects with the causes. If +we examined simple actions and had a vast number of such actions under +observation, our conception of their inevitability would be still +greater. The dishonest conduct of the son of a dishonest father, the +misconduct of a woman who had fallen into bad company, a drunkard's +relapse into drunkenness, and so on are actions that seem to us less +free the better we understand their cause. If the man whose actions we +are considering is on a very low stage of mental development, like a +child, a madman, or a simpleton- then, knowing the causes of the act +and the simplicity of the character and intelligence in question, we +see so large an element of necessity and so little free will that as +soon as we know the cause prompting the action we can foretell the +result. + +On these three considerations alone is based the conception of +irresponsibility for crimes and the extenuating circumstances admitted +by all legislative codes. The responsibility appears greater or less +according to our greater or lesser knowledge of the circumstances in +which the man was placed whose action is being judged, and according +to the greater or lesser interval of time between the commission of +the action and its investigation, and according to the greater or +lesser understanding of the causes that led to the action. + +CHAPTER X + +Thus our conception of free will and inevitability gradually +diminishes or increases according to the greater or lesser +connection with the external world, the greater or lesser remoteness +of time, and the greater or lesser dependence on the causes in +relation to which we contemplate a man's life. + +So that if we examine the case of a man whose connection with the +external world is well known, where the time between the action and +its examination is great, and where the causes of the action are +most accessible, we get the conception of a maximum of inevitability +and a minimum of free will. If we examine a man little dependent on +external conditions, whose action was performed very recently, and the +causes of whose action are beyond our ken, we get the conception of +a minimum of inevitability and a maximum of freedom. + +In neither case- however we may change our point of view, however +plain we may make to ourselves the connection between the man and +the external world, however inaccessible it may be to us, however long +or short the period of time, however intelligible or +incomprehensible the causes of the action may be- can we ever conceive +either complete freedom or complete necessity. + +(1) To whatever degree we may imagine a man to be exempt from the +influence of the external world, we never get a conception of +freedom in space. Every human action is inevitably conditioned by what +surrounds him and by his own body. I lift my arm and let it fall. My +action seems to me free; but asking myself whether I could raise my +arm in every direction, I see that I raised it in the direction in +which there was least obstruction to that action either from things +around me or from the construction of my own body. I chose one out +of all the possible directions because in it there were fewest +obstacles. For my action to be free it was necessary that it should +encounter no obstacles. To conceive of a man being free we must +imagine him outside space, which is evidently impossible. + +(2) However much we approximate the time of judgment to the time +of the deed, we never get a conception of freedom in time. For if I +examine an action committed a second ago I must still recognize it +as not being free, for it is irrevocably linked to the moment at which +it was committed. Can I lift my arm? I lift it, but ask myself: +could I have abstained from lifting my arm at the moment that has +already passed? To convince myself of this I do not lift it the next +moment. But I am not now abstaining from doing so at the first +moment when I asked the question. Time has gone by which I could not +detain, the arm I then lifted is no longer the same as the arm I now +refrain from lifting, nor is the air in which I lifted it the same +that now surrounds me. The moment in which the first movement was made +is irrevocable, and at that moment I could make only one movement, and +whatever movement I made would be the only one. That I did not lift my +arm a moment later does not prove that I could have abstained from +lifting it then. And since I could make only one movement at that +single moment of time, it could not have been any other. To imagine it +as free, it is necessary to imagine it in the present, on the boundary +between the past and the future- that is, outside time, which is +impossible. + +(3) However much the difficulty of understanding the causes may be +increased, we never reach a conception of complete freedom, that is, +an absence of cause. However inaccessible to us may be the cause of +the expression of will in any action, our own or another's, the +first demand of reason is the assumption of and search for a cause, +for without a cause no phenomenon is conceivable. I raise my arm to +perform an action independently of any cause, but my wish to perform +an action without a cause is the cause of my action. + +But even if- imagining a man quite exempt from all influences, +examining only his momentary action in the present, unevoked by any +cause- we were to admit so infinitely small a remainder of +inevitability as equaled zero, we should even then not have arrived at +the conception of complete freedom in man, for a being uninfluenced by +the external world, standing outside of time and independent of cause, +is no longer a man. + +In the same way we can never imagine the action of a man quite +devoid of freedom and entirely subject to the law of inevitability. + +(1) However we may increase our knowledge of the conditions of space +in which man is situated, that knowledge can never be complete, for +the number of those conditions is as infinite as the infinity of +space. And therefore so long as not all the conditions influencing men +are defined, there is no complete inevitability but a certain +measure of freedom remains. + +(2) However we may prolong the period of time between the action +we are examining and the judgment upon it, that period will be finite, +while time is infinite, and so in this respect too there can never +be absolute inevitability. + +(3) However accessible may be the chain of causation of any +action, we shall never know the whole chain since it is endless, and +so again we never reach absolute inevitability. + +But besides this, even if, admitting the remaining minimum of +freedom to equal zero, we assumed in some given case- as for +instance in that of a dying man, an unborn babe, or an idiot- complete +absence of freedom, by so doing we should destroy the very +conception of man in the case we are examining, for as soon as there +is no freedom there is also no man. And so the conception of the +action of a man subject solely to the law of inevitability without any +element of freedom is just as impossible as the conception of a +man's completely free action. + +And so to imagine the action of a man entirely subject to the law of +inevitability without any freedom, we must assume the knowledge of +an infinite number of space relations, an infinitely long period of +time, and an infinite series of causes. + +To imagine a man perfectly free and not subject to the law of +inevitability, we must imagine him all alone, beyond space, beyond +time, and free from dependence on cause. + +In the first case, if inevitability were possible without freedom we +should have reached a definition of inevitability by the laws of +inevitability itself, that is, a mere form without content. + +In the second case, if freedom were possible without inevitability +we should have arrived at unconditioned freedom beyond space, time, +and cause, which by the fact of its being unconditioned and +unlimited would be nothing, or mere content without form. + +We should in fact have reached those two fundamentals of which man's +whole outlook on the universe is constructed- the incomprehensible +essence of life, and the laws defining that essence. + +Reason says: (1) space with all the forms of matter that give it +visibility is infinite, and cannot be imagined otherwise. (2) Time +is infinite motion without a moment of rest and is unthinkable +otherwise. (3) The connection between cause and effect has no +beginning and can have no end. + +Consciousness says: (1) I alone am, and all that exists is but me, +consequently I include space. (2) I measure flowing time by the +fixed moment of the present in which alone I am conscious of myself as +living, consequently I am outside time. (3) I am beyond cause, for I +feel myself to be the cause of every manifestation of my life. + +Reason gives expression to the laws of inevitability. +Consciousness gives expression to the essence of freedom. + +Freedom not limited by anything is the essence of life, in man's +consciousness. Inevitability without content is man's reason in its +three forms. + +Freedom is the thing examined. Inevitability is what examines. +Freedom is the content. Inevitability is the form. + +Only by separating the two sources of cognition, related to one +another as form to content, do we get the mutually exclusive and +separately incomprehensible conceptions of freedom and inevitability. + +Only by uniting them do we get a clear conception of man's life. + +Apart from these two concepts which in their union mutually define +one another as form and content, no conception of life is possible. + +All that we know of the life of man is merely a certain relation +of free will to inevitability, that is, of consciousness to the laws +of reason. + +All that we know of the external world of nature is only a certain +relation of the forces of nature to inevitability, or of the essence +of life to the laws of reason. + +The great natural forces lie outside us and we are not conscious +of them; we call those forces gravitation, inertia, electricity, +animal force, and so on, but we are conscious of the force of life +in man and we call that freedom. + +But just as the force of gravitation, incomprehensible in itself but +felt by every man, is understood by us only to the extent to which +we know the laws of inevitability to which it is subject (from the +first knowledge that all bodies have weight, up to Newton's law), so +too the force of free will, incomprehensible in itself but of which +everyone is conscious, is intelligible to us only in as far as we know +the laws of inevitability to which it is subject (from the fact that +every man dies, up to the knowledge of the most complex economic and +historic laws). + +All knowledge is merely a bringing of this essence of life under the +laws of reason. + +Man's free will differs from every other force in that man is +directly conscious of it, but in the eyes of reason it in no way +differs from any other force. The forces of gravitation, +electricity, or chemical affinity are only distinguished from one +another in that they are differently defined by reason. Just so the +force of man's free will is distinguished by reason from the other +forces of nature only by the definition reason gives it. Freedom, +apart from necessity, that is, apart from the laws of reason that +define it, differs in no way from gravitation, or heat, or the force +that makes things grow; for reason, it is only a momentary undefinable +sensation of life. + +And as the undefinable essence of the force moving the heavenly +bodies, the undefinable essence of the forces of heat and electricity, +or of chemical affinity, or of the vital force, forms the content of +astronomy, physics, chemistry, botany, zoology, and so on, just in the +same way does the force of free will form the content of history. +But just as the subject of every science is the manifestation of +this unknown essence of life while that essence itself can only be the +subject of metaphysics, even the manifestation of the force of free +will in human beings in space, in time, and in dependence on cause +forms the subject of history, while free will itself is the subject of +metaphysics. + +In the experimental sciences what we know we call the laws of +inevitability, what is unknown to us we call vital force. Vital +force is only an expression for the unknown remainder over and above +what we know of the essence of life. + +So also in history what is known to us we call laws of +inevitability, what is unknown we call free will. Free will is for +history only an expression for the unknown remainder of what we know +about the laws of human life. + +CHAPTER XI + +History examines the manifestations of man's free will in connection +with the external world in time and in dependence on cause, that is, +it defines this freedom by the laws of reason, and so history is a +science only in so far as this free will is defined by those laws. + +The recognition of man's free will as something capable of +influencing historical events, that is, as not subject to laws, is the +same for history as the recognition of a free force moving the +heavenly bodies would be for astronomy. + +That assumption would destroy the possibility of the existence of +laws, that is, of any science whatever. If there is even a single body +moving freely, then the laws of Kepler and Newton are negatived and no +conception of the movement of the heavenly bodies any longer exists. +If any single action is due to free will, then not a single historical +law can exist, nor any conception of historical events. + +For history, lines exist of the movement of human wills, one end +of which is hidden in the unknown but at the other end of which a +consciousness of man's will in the present moves in space, time, and +dependence on cause. + +The more this field of motion spreads out before our eyes, the +more evident are the laws of that movement. To discover and define +those laws is the problem of history. + +From the standpoint from which the science of history now regards +its subject on the path it now follows, seeking the causes of events +in man's freewill, a scientific enunciation of those laws is +impossible, for however man's free will may be restricted, as soon +as we recognize it as a force not subject to law, the existence of law +becomes impossible. + +Only by reducing this element of free will to the infinitesimal, +that is, by regarding it as an infinitely small quantity, can we +convince ourselves of the absolute inaccessibility of the causes, +and then instead of seeking causes, history will take the discovery of +laws as its problem. + +The search for these laws has long been begun and the new methods of +thought which history must adopt are being worked out simultaneously +with the self-destruction toward which- ever dissecting and dissecting +the causes of phenomena- the old method of history is moving. + +All human sciences have traveled along that path. Arriving at +infinitesimals, mathematics, the most exact of sciences, abandons +the process of analysis and enters on the new process of the +integration of unknown, infinitely small, quantities. Abandoning the +conception of cause, mathematics seeks law, that is, the property +common to all unknown, infinitely small, elements. + +In another form but along the same path of reflection the other +sciences have proceeded. When Newton enunciated the law of gravity +he did not say that the sun or the earth had a property of attraction; +he said that all bodies from the largest to the smallest have the +property of attracting one another, that is, leaving aside the +question of the cause of the movement of the bodies, he expressed +the property common to all bodies from the infinitely large to the +infinitely small. The same is done by the natural sciences: leaving +aside the question of cause, they seek for laws. History stands on the +same path. And if history has for its object the study of the movement +of the nations and of humanity and not the narration of episodes in +the lives of individuals, it too, setting aside the conception of +cause, should seek the laws common to all the inseparably +interconnected infinitesimal elements of free will. + +CHAPTER XII + +From the time the law of Copernicus was discovered and proved, the +mere recognition of the fact that it was not the sun but the earth +that moves sufficed to destroy the whole cosmography of the +ancients. By disproving that law it might have been possible to retain +the old conception of the movements of the bodies, but without +disproving it, it would seem impossible to continue studying the +Ptolemaic worlds. But even after the discovery of the law of +Copernicus the Ptolemaic worlds were still studied for a long time. + +From the time the first person said and proved that the number of +births or of crimes is subject to mathematical laws, and that this +or that mode of government is determined by certain geographical and +economic conditions, and that certain relations of population to +soil produce migrations of peoples, the foundations on which history +had been built were destroyed in their essence. + +By refuting these new laws the former view of history might have +been retained; but without refuting them it would seem impossible to +continue studying historic events as the results of man's free will. +For if a certain mode of government was established or certain +migrations of peoples took place in consequence of such and such +geographic, ethnographic, or economic conditions, then the free will +of those individuals who appear to us to have established that mode of +government or occasioned the migrations can no longer be regarded as +the cause. + +And yet the former history continues to be studied side by side with +the laws of statistics, geography, political economy, comparative +philology, and geology, which directly contradict its assumptions. + +The struggle between the old views and the new was long and +stubbornly fought out in physical philosophy. Theology stood on +guard for the old views and accused the new of violating revelation. +But when truth conquered, theology established itself just as firmly +on the new foundation. + +Just as prolonged and stubborn is the struggle now proceeding +between the old and the new conception of history, and theology in the +same way stands on guard for the old view, and accuses the new view of +subverting revelation. + +In the one case as in the other, on both sides the struggle provokes +passion and stifles truth. On the one hand there is fear and regret +for the loss of the whole edifice constructed through the ages, on the +other is the passion for destruction. + +To the men who fought against the rising truths of physical +philosophy, it seemed that if they admitted that truth it would +destroy faith in God, in the creation of the firmament, and in the +miracle of Joshua the son of Nun. To the defenders of the laws of +Copernicus and Newton, to Voltaire for example, it seemed that the +laws of astronomy destroyed religion, and he utilized the law of +gravitation as a weapon against religion. + +Just so it now seems as if we have only to admit the law of +inevitability, to destroy the conception of the soul, of good and +evil, and all the institutions of state and church that have been +built up on those conceptions. + +So too, like Voltaire in his time, uninvited defenders of the law of +inevitability today use that law as a weapon against religion, +though the law of inevitability in history, like the law of Copernicus +in astronomy, far from destroying, even strengthens the foundation +on which the institutions of state and church are erected. + +As in the question of astronomy then, so in the question of +history now, the whole difference of opinion is based on the +recognition or nonrecognition of something absolute, serving as the +measure of visible phenomena. In astronomy it was the immovability +of the earth, in history it is the independence of personality- free +will. + +As with astronomy the difficulty of recognizing the motion of the +earth lay in abandoning the immediate sensation of the earth's +fixity and of the motion of the planets, so in history the +difficulty of recognizing the subjection of personality to the laws of +space, time, and cause lies in renouncing the direct feeling of the +independence of one's own personality. But as in astronomy the new +view said: "It is true that we do not feel the movement of the +earth, but by admitting its immobility we arrive at absurdity, while +by admitting its motion (which we do not feel) we arrive at laws," +so also in history the new view says: "It is true that we are not +conscious of our dependence, but by admitting our free will we +arrive at absurdity, while by admitting our dependence on the external +world, on time, and on cause, we arrive at laws." + +In the first case it was necessary to renounce the consciousness +of an unreal immobility in space and to recognize a motion we did +not feel; in the present case it is similarly necessary to renounce +a freedom that does not exist, and to recognize a dependence of +which we are not conscious. + +% Notes: +% SiSU: http://www.jus.uio.no/sisu +% SiSU markup for 0.16 and later +% SiSU markup: http://www.jus.uio.no/sisu/sample +% Output: http://www.jus.uio.no/sisu/war_and_peace.leo_tolstoy +% Markup: http://www.jus.uio.no/sisu/sample/markup/war_and_peace.leo_tolstoy.sst +% Syntax: http://www.jus.uio.no/sisu/sample/syntax/war_and_peace.leo_tolstoy.sst.html |