Lev Nikolayevich Tolstoy

WAR AND PEACE

PART ONE

- Eh bien, mon prince. Genes et Lucques ne sont plus que des apanages, des estates, de la famille Buonaparte. Non, je vous previens, que si vous ne me dites pas, que nous avons la guerre, si vous vous permettez encore de pallier toutes les infamies, toutes les atrocites de cet Antichrist (ma parole, j "y crois) - je ne vous connais plus, vous n "etes plus mon ami, vous n" etes plus my faithful slave, comme vous dites. [ Well, prince, Genoa and Lucca have become no more than the estates of the Bonaparte family. No, I warn you, if you don’t tell me that we are at war, if you still allow yourself to defend all the nasty things, all the horrors of this Antichrist (really, I believe that he is the Antichrist) - I don’t know you anymore, you don’t my friend, you are no longer my faithful slave, as you say. ] Well, hello, hello. Je vois que je vous fais peur, [ I see that I scare you ] sit down and talk.

So said in July 1805 the famous Anna Pavlovna Sherer, maid of honor and close associate of Empress Maria Feodorovna, meeting the important and bureaucratic Prince Vasily, who was the first to come to her evening. Anna Pavlovna coughed for several days, she had the flu, as she said (flu was then a new word, used only by rare people). In the notes sent out in the morning with the red footman, it was written without distinction in all:

"Si vous n" avez rien de mieux a faire, M. le comte (or mon prince), et si la perspective de passer la soiree chez une pauvre malade ne vous effraye pas trop, je serai charmee de vous voir chez moi entre 7 et 10 heures Annette Scherer".

[ If you, count (or prince), have nothing better in mind, and if the prospect of an evening with a poor patient does not frighten you too much, then I will be very glad to see you today between seven and ten o'clock. Anna Sherer. ]

– Dieu, quelle virulente sortie [ ABOUT! what a brutal attack! ] - answered, not at all embarrassed by such a meeting, the prince entered, in a court, embroidered uniform, in stockings, shoes, with stars, with a bright expression of a flat face. He spoke in that exquisite French language, which our grandfathers not only spoke, but also thought, and with those quiet, patronizing intonations that are characteristic of a significant person who has grown old in society and at court. He went up to Anna Pavlovna, kissed her hand, offering her his perfumed and shining bald head, and calmly sat down on the sofa.

– Avant tout dites moi, comment vous allez, chere amie? [ First of all, how is your health? ] Calm down your friend,” he said, without changing his voice and tone, in which, due to decency and participation, indifference and even mockery shone through.

- How can you be healthy ... when you suffer morally? Is it possible to remain calm in our time, when a person has a feeling? Anna Pavlovna said. “You’ve been with me all evening, I hope?”

- And the holiday of the English envoy? Today is Wednesday. I need to show myself there,” said the prince. - My daughter will pick me up and take me.

I thought this holiday was cancelled. Je vous avoue que toutes ces fetes et tous ces feux d "artifice commencent a devenir insipides. [ I confess that all these holidays and fireworks are becoming unbearable. ]

“If they knew that you wanted this, the holiday would have been canceled,” the prince said, out of habit, like a wound clock, saying things that he did not want to be believed.

– Ne me tourmentez pas. Eh bien, qu "a-t-on decide par rapport a la depeche de Novosiizoff? Vous savez tout. [ Don't torment me. Well, what did they decide on the occasion of Novosiltsov's dispatch? You all know. ]

- How can I tell you? said the prince in a cold, bored tone. - Qu "a-t-on decide? On a decide que Buonaparte a brule ses vaisseaux, et je crois que nous sommes en train de bruler les notres. [ What do you think? It was decided that Bonaparte had burned his ships; and we, too, seem ready to burn ours. ] - Prince Vasily always spoke lazily, as an actor speaks the role of an old play. Anna Pavlovna Sherer, on the contrary, despite her forty years, was full of animation and impulses.

Being an enthusiast became her social position, and sometimes, when she didn’t even want to, she, in order not to deceive the expectations of people who knew her, became an enthusiast. The restrained smile that constantly played on Anna Pavlovna's face, although it did not go to her obsolete features, expressed, like in spoiled children, the constant consciousness of her sweet shortcoming, from which she does not want, cannot and does not find it necessary to correct herself.

In the middle of a conversation about political actions, Anna Pavlovna got excited.

“Ah, don’t tell me about Austria! I don't understand anything, maybe, but Austria never wanted and doesn't want war. She betrays us. Russia alone must be the savior of Europe. Our benefactor knows his high calling and will be faithful to it. Here's one thing I believe in. Our good and wonderful sovereign has the greatest role in the world, and he is so virtuous and good that God will not leave him, and he will fulfill his calling to crush the hydra of the revolution, which is now even more terrible in the face of this murderer and villain. We alone must atone for the blood of the righteous... Whom shall we rely on, I ask you?... England with its commercial spirit will not and cannot understand the whole loftiness of the soul of Emperor Alexander. She refused to clear Malta. She wants to see, looking for the back thought of our actions. What did they say to Novosiltsov?... Nothing. They did not understand, they cannot understand the selflessness of our emperor, who wants nothing for himself and wants everything for the good of the world. And what did they promise? Nothing. And what they promised, and that will not happen! Prussia has already declared that Bonaparte is invincible and that all of Europe can do nothing against him... And I do not believe in a single word either Hardenberg or Gaugwitz. Cette fameuse neutralite prussienne, ce n "est qu" un piege. [ This notorious neutrality of Prussia is only a trap. ] I believe in one God and in the high destiny of our dear emperor. He will save Europe!…” She suddenly stopped with a smile of mockery at her ardor.

“I think,” said the prince, smiling, “that if you had been sent instead of our dear Winzengerode, you would have taken the consent of the Prussian king by storm. You are so eloquent. Will you give me tea?

- Now. A propos,” she added, calming down again, “today I have two very interesting people, le vicomte de Morte Mariet, il est allie aux Montmorency par les Rohans, [ By the way, - Viscount Mortemar, ] he is related to Montmorency through the Rogans, ] one of the best surnames in France. This is one of the good emigrants, of the real ones. And then l "abbe Morio: [ Abbe Morio: ] do you know this deep mind? He was received by the sovereign. You know?

- A! I will be very glad, - said the prince. “Tell me,” he added, as if he had just remembered something and especially casually, while what he asked about was the main purpose of his visit, “it’s true that l "imperatrice-mere [ empress mother ] wants the appointment of Baron Funke as first secretary in Vienna? C "est un pauvre sire, ce baron, a ce qu" il parait. [ This baron seems to be an insignificant person. ] - Prince Vasily wanted to assign his son to this place, which they tried to deliver to the baron through Empress Maria Feodorovna.

Anna Pavlovna almost closed her eyes as a sign that neither she nor anyone else can judge what the Empress likes or likes.

- Monsieur le baron de Funke a ete recommande a l "imperatrice-mere par sa soeur, [ Baron Funke is recommended to the Empress Mother by her sister, ] she just said in a sad, dry tone. While Anna Pavlovna called

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Part one

I

- Eh bien, mon prince. Gênes et Lucques ne sont plus que des apanages, des estates, de la famille Buonaparte. Non, je vous préviens que si vous ne me dites pas que nous avons la guerre, si vous vous permettez encore de pallier toutes les infamies, toutes les atrocités de cet Antichrist (ma parole, j'y crois) - je ne vous connais plus , vous n'êtes plus mon ami, vous n'êtes plus my faithful slave, comme vous dites. Well, hello, hello. Je vois que je vous fais peur, sit down and tell me.

So said in July 1805 the famous Anna Pavlovna Sherer, maid of honor and close associate of Empress Maria Feodorovna, meeting the important and bureaucratic Prince Vasily, who was the first to come to her evening. Anna Pavlovna coughed for several days, she had flu, as she said (flu was then a new word, used only by rare people). In the notes sent out in the morning with the red footman, it was written without distinction in all:

"Si vous n'avez rien de mieux a faire, Monsieur le comte (or mon prince), et si la perspective de passer la soirée chez une pauvre malade ne vous effraye pas trop, je serai charmée de vous voir chez moi entre 7 et 10 heures. Annette Scherer"

“If they knew that you wanted this, the holiday would have been canceled,” the prince said, out of habit, like a wound clock, saying things that he did not want to be believed.

– Ne me tourmentez pas. Eh bien, qu'a-t-on décidé par rapport and la dépêche de Novosilzoff? Vous savez tout.

- How can I tell you? said the prince in a cold, bored tone. - Qu'a-t-on decide? On a décidé que Buonaparte a brûlé ses vaisseaux, et je crois que nous sommes en train de brûler les nôtres.

Prince Vasily always spoke lazily, as an actor speaks the role of an old play. Anna Pavlovna Sherer, on the contrary, despite her forty years, was full of animation and impulses.

Being an enthusiast became her social position, and sometimes, when she didn’t even want to, she, in order not to deceive the expectations of people who knew her, became an enthusiast. The restrained smile that constantly played on Anna Pavlovna's face, although it did not go to her obsolete features, expressed, like in spoiled children, the constant consciousness of her sweet shortcoming, from which she does not want, cannot and does not find it necessary to correct herself.

In the middle of a conversation about political actions, Anna Pavlovna got excited.

“Ah, don’t tell me about Austria! I don't understand anything, maybe, but Austria never wanted and doesn't want war. She betrays us. Russia alone must be the savior of Europe. Our benefactor knows his high calling and will be faithful to it. Here's one thing I believe in. Our good and wonderful sovereign has the greatest role in the world, and he is so virtuous and good that God will not leave him, and he will fulfill his calling to crush the hydra of the revolution, which is now even more terrible in the face of this murderer and villain. We alone must atone for the blood of the righteous. Whom shall we rely on, I ask you?.. England with her commercial spirit will not and cannot understand the whole loftiness of the soul of Emperor Alexander. She refused to clear Malta. She wants to see, looking for the back thought of our actions. What did they say to Novosiltsev? Nothing. They did not understand, they cannot understand the selflessness of our emperor, who wants nothing for himself and wants everything for the good of the world. And what did they promise? Nothing. And what they promised, and that will not happen! Prussia has already declared that Bonaparte is invincible and that the whole of Europe can do nothing against him... And I do not believe a single word of either Hardenberg or Gaugwitz. Cette fameuse neutralité prussienne, ce n'est qu'un pièe. I believe in one God and in the high destiny of our dear emperor. He will save Europe!.. - She suddenly stopped with a smile of mockery at her ardor.

“I think,” said the prince, smiling, “that if you were sent instead of our dear Winzengerode, you would take the consent of the Prussian king by storm. You are so eloquent. Will you give me tea?

- Now. A propos,” she added, calming down again, “today I have two very interesting people, le vicomte de Mortemart, il est allié aux Montmorency par les Rohans, one of the best families in France. This is one of the good emigrants, of the real ones. And then l'abbe Morio; do you know this deep mind? He was received by the sovereign. You know?

- A? I will be very glad, - said the prince. “Tell me,” he added, as if he had just remembered something and especially casually, when what he asked about was the main purpose of his visit, “is it true that I'impératrice-merè desires the appointment of Baron Funke as First Secretary to Vienna? C'est un pauvre sire, ce baron, and her qu'il paraît. - Prince Vasily wanted to assign his son to this place, which they tried to deliver to the baron through Empress Maria Feodorovna.

Anna Pavlovna almost closed her eyes as a sign that neither she nor anyone else can judge what the Empress likes or likes.

“Monsieur le baron de Funke a été recommandé a l’impératrice-mèe par sa soeur,” she said only in a sad, dry tone. While Anna Pavlovna named the empress, her face suddenly presented a deep and sincere expression of devotion and respect, combined with sadness, which happened to her every time she mentioned her high patroness in a conversation. She said that Her Majesty had deigned to give Baron Funke a beaucoup d'estime, and again her eyes turned sad.

The prince was indifferently silent. Anna Pavlovna, with her courtly and feminine dexterity and quickness of tact, wanted to snap the prince for daring to speak in such a way about the person recommended by the empress, and at the same time console him.

“Mais a propos de votre famille,” she said, “do you know that your daughter, since she leaves, has been fait les délices de tout le monde.” On la trouve belle comme le jour.

The prince leaned in as a sign of respect and gratitude.

“I often think,” Anna Pavlovna continued after a moment’s silence, moving closer to the prince and smiling affectionately at him, as if showing by this that political and secular conversations are over and heartfelt conversations are now beginning, “I often think how sometimes the happiness of life is unfairly distributed. Why did fate give you such two glorious children (with the exception of Anatole, your younger one, I don’t love him, - she put in peremptorily, raising her eyebrows), - such lovely children? And you really value them least of all, and therefore you are not worthy of them.

And she smiled her delighted smile.

– Que voulez vous? Lafater aurait dit que je n'ai pas la bosse de la paternité, said the prince.

- Stop joking. I wanted to have a serious talk with you. You know, I'm not happy with your younger son. Between us, be it said (her face took on a sad expression), they talked about him at her majesty and pity you ...

The prince did not answer, but she silently, looking at him significantly, waited for an answer. Prince Vasily grimaced.

- What should I do? he said at last. “You know, I did everything a father can for their education, and both came out des imbeciles. Hippolyte is at least a dead fool, while Anatole is restless. Here is one difference,” he said, smiling more unnaturally and animatedly than usual, and at the same time showing especially sharply something unexpectedly coarse and unpleasant in the wrinkles that had formed around his mouth.

“And why would children be born to people like you?” If you weren't a father, I wouldn't be able to reproach you with anything," said Anna Pavlovna, raising her eyes thoughtfully.

- Je suis votre faithful slave, et a vous seule je puis l'avouer. My children are ce sont les entraves de mon existence. This is my cross. This is how I explain myself. Que voulez-vous? .. - He paused, gesturing his resignation to a cruel fate.

Anna Pavlovna thought for a moment.

- You never thought about marrying your prodigal son Anatole. They say, she said, that old maids are ont la manie des mariages. I do not yet feel this weakness behind me, but I have one petite personne who is very unhappy with her father, une parente a nous, une princesse Bolkonskaya. - Prince Vasily did not answer, although with the quickness of thought and memory characteristic of secular people, he showed with a movement of his head that he had taken this information into consideration.

“No, do you know that this Anatole costs me forty thousand a year,” he said, apparently unable to restrain the sad train of his thoughts. He paused.

- What will happen in five years, if it goes like this? Voilà l'avantage d'être pèe. Is she rich, your princess?

“My father is very rich and stingy. He lives in the village. You know, this well-known prince Bolkonsky, who was retired under the late emperor and nicknamed the Prussian king. He is a very intelligent man, but odd and heavy. La pauvre petite est malheureuse comme les pierres. She has a brother, that's what recently married Lise Meinen, Kutuzov's adjutant. He will be with me today.

II

Anna Pavlovna's drawing room began to gradually fill up. The highest nobility of St. Petersburg arrived, people of the most heterogeneous in age and character, but the same in the society in which everyone lived; the daughter of Prince Vasily, the beautiful Helen, arrived, who had called in for her father to go with him to the feast of the envoy. She was in cypher and a ball gown. Also known as la femme la plus séduisante de Pétersbourg, the young, little Princess Bolkonskaya, who got married last winter and now did not go to big light due to her pregnancy, but still traveled for small evenings. Prince Hippolyte, son of Prince Vasily, arrived with Mortemar, whom he introduced; Abbé Morio and many others also came.

- You haven't seen yet - or: - you don't know ma tante? Anna Pavlovna would say to the visiting guests, and very seriously lead them to a little old woman in high bows, who floated out of another room, as soon as the guests began to arrive, she called them by name, slowly shifting her eyes from the guest to ma tante, and then departed.

All the guests performed the ceremony of greeting an unknown, uninteresting and unnecessary aunt. Anna Pavlovna followed their greetings with sad, solemn sympathy, tacitly approving them. Ma tante spoke to everyone in the same terms about his health, about her health and about the health of Her Majesty, which today was, thank God, better. All those who approached, without showing haste out of decency, with a sense of relief from the heavy duty they had performed, departed from the old woman, so that they would not go up to her all evening.

The young Princess Bolkonskaya arrived with work in an embroidered gold velvet bag. Her pretty, with a slightly blackened mustache, her upper lip was short in teeth, but it opened all the nicer and stretched out even more nicely sometimes and fell on the lower one. As is the case with quite attractive women, her shortcomings—the shortness of her lips and her half-open mouth—seemed to be her special, her own beauty. It was fun for everyone to look at this pretty mother-to-be, full of health and liveliness, who so easily endured her situation. It seemed to the old men and the bored, gloomy young people that they themselves were becoming like her after spending some time talking with her. Anyone who spoke to her and saw at every word her bright smile and shining white teeth, which were constantly visible, thought that he was especially amiable today. And that's what everyone thought.

The little princess, waddling, walked around the table with small quick steps with a work bag on her arm and, gaily straightening her dress, sat down on the sofa, near the silver samovar, as if everything she did was partie de plaisir for her and for all those around her.

And she spread her hands to show her, in lace, an elegant gray dress, girded with a wide ribbon a little below her breasts.

“Soyez tranquille, Lise, vous serez toujours la plus jolie,” answered Anna Pavlovna.

“Vous savez, mon mari m'abandonne,” she continued in the same tone, addressing the general, “il va se faire tuer. Dites-moi, pourquoi cette vilaine guerre,” she said to Prince Vasily and, without waiting for an answer, turned to the daughter of Prince Vasily, the beautiful Helen.

- Quelle delicieuse personne, que cette petite princesse! - said Prince Vasily quietly to Anna Pavlovna.

Shortly after the little princess, a massive, fat young man with a cropped head, spectacles, light trousers in the fashion of the time, with a high frill, and in a brown tailcoat, entered. This fat young man was the illegitimate son of the famous Catherine's nobleman, Count Bezukhov, who was now dying in Moscow. He had not served anywhere yet, had just arrived from abroad, where he had been brought up, and was for the first time in society. Anna Pavlovna greeted him with a bow, which belonged to the people of the lowest hierarchy in her salon. But, despite this inferior greeting, at the sight of Pierre entering, Anna Pavlovna displayed anxiety and fear, similar to that which is expressed at the sight of something too huge and unusual for the place. Although Pierre was indeed somewhat larger than the other men in the room, this fear could only relate to that intelligent and at the same time timid, observant and natural look that distinguished him from everyone in this living room.

“C’est bien aimable a vous, monsieur Pierre, d’être venu voir une pauvre malade,” Anna Pavlovna told him, exchanging frightened glances with her aunt, to whom she was leading him. Pierre murmured something incomprehensible and continued to look for something with his eyes. He smiled joyfully, cheerfully, bowing to the little princess as if he were a close acquaintance, and went up to his aunt. Anna Pavlovna's fear was not in vain, because Pierre, without listening to his aunt's speech about her majesty's health, left her. Anna Pavlovna stopped him in fright with the words:

"You don't know Abbe Morio?" He is a very interesting person…” she said.

– Yes, I heard about his plan for eternal peace, and it is very interesting, but hardly possible…

“Do you think? ..” Anna Pavlovna said, in order to say something and turn again to her occupations as a mistress of the house, but Pierre did the reverse impoliteness. First, he, without listening to the words of his interlocutor, left; now he stopped his interlocutor with his conversation, who needed to leave him. Bending his head and spreading his big legs, he began to prove to Anna Pavlovna why he believed that the abbot's plan was a chimera.

"We'll talk later," said Anna Pavlovna, smiling.

And, having got rid of a young man who did not know how to live, she returned to her occupations as a mistress of the house and continued to listen and look, ready to give help to the point where the conversation was weakening. Just as the owner of a spinning shop, having seated the workers in their places, paces around the establishment, noticing the immobility or the unusual, creaking, too loud sound of the spindle, hastily walks, restrains or sets it in its proper course, so Anna Pavlovna, pacing around her drawing room, approached a mug that was silent or talked too much, and with one word or movement, it again started a regular, decent conversational machine. But among these worries, one could see in her a special fear for Pierre. She looked at him solicitously as he approached to hear what was being said about Mortemart, and went to another circle where the abbe was speaking. For Pierre, brought up abroad, this evening of Anna Pavlovna was the first he saw in Russia. He knew that all the intelligentsia of St. Petersburg were gathered here, and his eyes widened like a child in a toy shop. He was afraid of missing the smart conversations he might overhear. Looking at the confident and graceful expressions of the faces gathered here, he kept waiting for something especially clever. Finally, he approached Morio. The conversation seemed interesting to him, and he stopped, waiting for an opportunity to express his thoughts, as young people like it.

III

Anna Pavlovna's evening was started. The spindles from different sides evenly and incessantly rustled. Apart from ma tante, beside which sat only one elderly lady with a weepy, thin face, somewhat a stranger in this brilliant society, the society was divided into three circles. In one, more masculine, the center was the abbot; in another, young one, the beautiful Princess Helen, daughter of Prince Vasily, and the pretty, ruddy, too plump for her youth, little Princess Bolkonskaya. In the third - Mortemar and Anna Pavlovna.

The viscount was a good-looking young man with soft features and manners, who obviously considered himself a celebrity, but, out of good manners, modestly allowed himself to be used by the society in which he was. Anna Pavlovna, obviously, treated her guests to them. Just as a good maître d' serves as something supernaturally beautiful that piece of beef that you don't want to eat if you see it in a dirty kitchen, so this evening Anna Pavlovna served her guests first the viscount, then the abbot, as something supernaturally refined. Mortemart's circle immediately started talking about the murder of the Duke of Enghien. The viscount said that the Duke of Enghien died from his generosity and that there were special reasons for Bonaparte's anger.

- Ah! voyons. Contez-nous cela, vicomte,” said Anna Pavlovna, feeling with joy how something a la Louis XV echoed this phrase, “contez-nous cela, vicomte.”

The viscount bowed in humility and smiled courteously. Anna Pavlovna made a circle around the viscount and invited everyone to listen to his story.

“Le vicomte a été personnellement connu de monseigneur,” Anna Pavlovna whispered to one. “Le vicomte est un parfait conteur,” she said to another. “Comme on voit l’homme de la bonne compagnie,” she said to the third; and the viscount was served to society in the most elegant and favorable light for it, like roast beef on a hot dish sprinkled with herbs.

The viscount was about to begin his story and smiled thinly.

“Come over here, chèe Hélène,” Anna Pavlovna said to the beautiful princess, who was sitting at a distance, forming the center of another circle.

Princess Helen smiled; she got up with the same unchanging smile of a quite beautiful woman, with which she entered the drawing-room. Slightly noisy in her white ball gown trimmed with ivy and moss, and shining with the whiteness of her shoulders, with the gloss of her hair and diamonds, she walked straight between the parting men, not looking at anyone, but smiling at everyone and, as if kindly giving everyone the right to admire the beauty of her figure. , full of shoulders, very open, according to the fashion of that time, chest and back, and as if bringing with her the splendor of the ball, she went up to Anna Pavlovna. Helen was so pretty that not only was there no trace of coquetry in her, but, on the contrary, she seemed ashamed of her undoubted and too strong and victorious acting beauty. She seemed to wish and could not belittle the effect of her beauty.

The princess, smiling and talking to everyone, suddenly made a rearrangement and, sitting down, gaily recovered herself.

“Now I feel good,” she said, and, asking to begin, she set to work.

Prince Hippolyte carried her purse over to her, crossed over after her, and, drawing an armchair close to her, sat down beside her.

She will go to the village.

“How is it not a sin for you to deprive us of your lovely wife?”

“André,” said his wife, addressing her husband in the same coquettish tone with which she addressed strangers, “what a story the viscount told us about m lle Georges and Bonaparte!

Prince Andrei closed his eyes and turned away. Pierre, who had not taken his joyful, friendly eyes from the moment Prince Andrei entered the living room, went up to him and took his hand. Prince Andrei, without looking back, wrinkled his face into a grimace, expressing annoyance at the one who touched his hand, but, seeing Pierre's smiling face, he smiled an unexpectedly kind and pleasant smile.

- That's how! .. And you are in the big world! he said to Pierre.

“I knew you would,” Pierre answered. “I will come to you for supper,” he added quietly, so as not to disturb the viscount, who continued his story. - Can?

“No, you can’t,” said Prince Andrei, laughing, shaking hands letting Pierre know that there was no need to ask. He wanted to say something else, but at that time Prince Vasily and his daughter got up, and the men got up to give them way.

“Excuse me, my dear viscount,” said Prince Vasily to the Frenchman, gently pulling him by the sleeve down to the chair so that he would not get up. “This unfortunate feast at the Messenger’s is depriving me of my pleasure and interrupting you. I am very sad to leave your delightful evening,” he said to Anna Pavlovna.

His daughter, Princess Helen, lightly holding the folds of her dress, went between the chairs, and the smile shone even brighter on her beautiful face. Pierre looked with almost frightened, enthusiastic eyes at this beauty when she passed him.

“Very good,” said Prince Andrei.

“Very,” said Pierre.

Passing by, Prince Vasily grabbed Pierre by the hand and turned to Anna Pavlovna.

“Educate me this bear,” he said. - Here he lives with me for a month, and for the first time I see him in the light. Nothing is so necessary for a young man as a society of smart women.

PART ONE

I

Eh bien, mon prince. Genes et Lucques ne sont plus que des apanages, des estates, de la famille Buonaparte. Non, je vous previens, que si vous ne me dites pas, que nous avons la guerre, si vous vous permettez encore de pallier toutes les infamies, toutes les atrocites de cet Antichrist (ma parole, j "y crois) - je ne vous connais plus, vous n "etes plus mon ami, vous n" etes plus my faithful slave, comme vous dites. [ Well, prince, Genoa and Lucca have become no more than the estates of the Bonaparte family. No, I warn you, if you do not tell me that we are at war, if you still allow yourself to defend all the nasty things, all the horrors of this Antichrist (really, I believe that he is the Antichrist) - I don’t know you anymore, you don’t my friend, you are no longer my faithful slave, as you say . ] Well, hello, hello. Je vois que je vous fais peur, [ I see that I scare you , ] sit down and talk.

So said in July 1805 the famous Anna Pavlovna Sherer, maid of honor and close associate of Empress Maria Feodorovna, meeting the important and bureaucratic Prince Vasily, who was the first to come to her evening. Anna Pavlovna coughed for several days, she had flu as she said flu was then a new word, used only by rare people). In the notes sent out in the morning with the red footman, it was written without distinction in all:

"Si vous n" avez rien de mieux a faire, M. le comte (or mon prince), et si la perspective de passer la soiree chez une pauvre malade ne vous effraye pas trop, je serai charmee de vous voir chez moi entre 7 et 10 heures Annette Scherer".

[ If you, count (or prince), have nothing better in mind, and if the prospect of an evening with a poor patient does not frighten you too much, then I will be very glad to see you today between seven and ten o'clock. Anna Scherer . ]

Dieu, quelle virulente sortie [ ABOUT! what a brutal attack! ] - answered, not at all embarrassed by such a meeting, the prince entered, in a court, embroidered uniform, in stockings, shoes, with stars, with a bright expression of a flat face. He spoke in that exquisite French language, which our grandfathers not only spoke, but also thought, and with those quiet, patronizing intonations that are characteristic of a significant person who has grown old in society and at court. He went up to Anna Pavlovna, kissed her hand, offering her his perfumed and shining bald head, and calmly sat down on the sofa.

Avant tout dites moi, comment vous allez, chere amie? [ First of all, how is your health? ] Calm down your friend, - he said, without changing his voice and tone, in which, due to decency and participation, indifference and even mockery shone through.

How can you be healthy ... when you suffer morally? Is it possible to remain calm in our time, when a person has a feeling? Anna Pavlovna said. - You're with me all evening, I hope?

And the holiday of the English envoy? Today is Wednesday. I need to appear there, - said the prince. - My daughter will pick me up and take me.

I thought this holiday was cancelled. Je vous avoue que toutes ces fetes et tous ces feux d "artifice commencent a devenir insipides. [ I confess, all these holidays and fireworks are becoming unbearable . ]

If they knew that you want this, the holiday would be canceled, ”said the prince, out of habit, like a wound clock, saying things that he didn’t want to be believed.

Ne me tourmentez pas. Eh bien, qu "a-t-on decide par rapport a la depeche de Novosiizoff? Vous savez tout. [ Don't torment me. Well, what did they decide on the occasion of Novosiltsov's dispatch? you all know . ]

How can you tell? - said the prince in a cold, bored tone. - Qu "a-t-on decide? On a decide que Buonaparte a brule ses vaisseaux, et je crois que nous sommes en train de bruler les notres. [ What do you think? It was decided that Bonaparte had burned his ships; and we too seem ready to burn our . ] - Prince Vasily always spoke lazily, as an actor speaks the role of an old play. Anna Pavlovna Sherer, on the contrary, despite her forty years, was full of animation and impulses.

Being an enthusiast became her social position, and sometimes, when she didn’t even want to, she, in order not to deceive the expectations of people who knew her, became an enthusiast. The restrained smile that constantly played on Anna Pavlovna's face, although it did not go to her obsolete features, expressed, like in spoiled children, the constant consciousness of her sweet shortcoming, from which she does not want, cannot and does not find it necessary to correct herself.

In the middle of a conversation about political actions, Anna Pavlovna got excited.

Oh, don't tell me about Austria! I don't understand anything, maybe, but Austria never wanted and doesn't want war. She betrays us. Russia alone must be the savior of Europe. Our benefactor knows his high calling and will be faithful to it. Here's one thing I believe in. Our good and wonderful sovereign has the greatest role in the world, and he is so virtuous and good that God will not leave him, and he will fulfill his calling to crush the hydra of the revolution, which is now even more terrible in the face of this murderer and villain. We alone must atone for the blood of the righteous... Whom shall we rely on, I ask you?... England with its commercial spirit will not and cannot understand the whole loftiness of the soul of Emperor Alexander. She refused to clear Malta. She wants to see, looking for the back thought of our actions. What did they say to Novosiltsov?... Nothing. They did not understand, they cannot understand the selflessness of our emperor, who wants nothing for himself and wants everything for the good of the world. And what did they promise? Nothing. And what they promised, and that will not happen! Prussia has already declared that Bonaparte is invincible and that all of Europe can do nothing against him... And I do not believe in a single word either Hardenberg or Gaugwitz. Cette fameuse neutralite prussienne, ce n "est qu" un piege. [ This notorious neutrality of Prussia is only a trap . ] I believe in one God and in the high destiny of our dear emperor. He will save Europe!... - She suddenly stopped with a smile of mockery at her ardor.

From the end of 1811, increased armament and concentration of forces of Western Europe began, and in 1812 these forces - millions of people (including those who transported and fed the army) moved from West to East, to the borders of Russia, to which, in the same way, with In 1811, the forces of Russia were drawn together. On June 12, the forces of Western Europe crossed the borders of Russia, and the war began, that is, an event contrary to human reason and all human nature took place. Millions of people committed against each other such countless atrocities, deceptions, betrayals, thefts, forgeries and issuance of false banknotes, robberies, arson and murders, which in whole centuries the annals of all the courts of the world will not collect and on which, in this period of time, people, those who committed them were not regarded as crimes.

What produced this extraordinary event? What were the reasons for it? Historians say with naive certainty that the causes of this event were the insult inflicted on the Duke of Oldenburg, non-compliance with the continental system, Napoleon's lust for power, Alexander's firmness, diplomats' mistakes, etc.

Consequently, Metternich, Rumyantsev, or Talleyrand, between the exit and the reception, had only to try hard and write a more ingenious piece of paper or Napoleon to write to Alexander: Monsieur, mon frère, je consens à rendre le duché au duc d'Oldenbourg, - and there would be no war .

It is clear that such was the case for contemporaries. It is clear that it seemed to Napoleon that the intrigues of England were the cause of the war (as he said this on the island of St. Helena); it is understandable that it seemed to the members of the English Chamber that Napoleon's lust for power was the cause of the war; that it seemed to the Prince of Oldenburg that the cause of the war was the violence committed against him; that it seemed to the merchants that the cause of the war was the continental system, which was ruining Europe, that it seemed to the old soldiers and generals that the main reason was the need to put them to work; to the legitimists of that time that it was necessary to restore les bons principes, and to the diplomats of that time that everything happened because the alliance of Russia with Austria in 1809 was not skillfully hidden from Napoleon and that memorandum No. 178 was awkwardly written. that these and an innumerable, infinite number of causes, the number of which depends on the innumerable difference of points of view, seemed to contemporaries; but for us, the descendants, who contemplate in all its volume the enormity of the event that has taken place and delve into its simple and terrible meaning, these reasons seem insufficient. It is incomprehensible to us that millions of Christians killed and tortured each other, because Napoleon was power-hungry, Alexander is firm, the policy of England is cunning and the Duke of Oldenburg is offended. It is impossible to understand what connection these circumstances have with the very fact of murder and violence; why, due to the fact that the duke was offended, thousands of people from the other side of Europe killed and ruined the people of Smolensk and Moscow provinces and were killed by them.

For us, descendants, who are not historians, who are not carried away by the process of research and therefore contemplate the event with unobscured common sense, its causes appear in innumerable numbers. The more we delve into the search for causes, the more they are revealed to us, and any single reason or a whole series of reasons seems to us equally just in itself, and equally false in its insignificance in comparison with the enormity of the event, and equally false in its invalidity ( without the participation of all other coincident causes) to produce an accomplished event. The same reason as Napoleon's refusal to withdraw his troops beyond the Vistula and give back the Duchy of Oldenburg seems to us the desire or unwillingness of the first French corporal to enter the secondary service: for if he did not want to go to the service and did not want another, third, and a thousandth corporal and soldier, so much less people would be in Napoleon's army, and there could be no war.

If Napoleon had not been offended by the demand to retreat beyond the Vistula and had not ordered the troops to advance, there would have been no war; but if all the sergeants did not wish to enter the secondary service, there could also be no war. There could also be no war if there were no intrigues of England and there were no Prince of Oldenburg and a feeling of insult in Alexander, and there would be no autocratic power in Russia, and there would be no French revolution and the subsequent dictatorship and empire, and all that, what produced the French Revolution, and so on. Without one of these reasons, nothing could have happened. Therefore, all these causes - billions of reasons - coincided in order to produce what was. And therefore, nothing was the exclusive cause of the event, and the event had to happen only because it had to happen. Millions of people, having renounced their human feelings and their minds, had to go to the East from the West and kill their own kind, just as several centuries ago, crowds of people went from East to West, killing their own kind.

The actions of Napoleon and Alexander, on whose word it seemed that the event took place or not took place, were as little arbitrary as the action of every soldier who went on a campaign by lot or by recruitment. It could not be otherwise, because in order for the will of Napoleon and Alexander (those people on whom the event seemed to depend) to be fulfilled, the coincidence of innumerable circumstances was necessary, without one of which the event could not have taken place. It was necessary that millions of people in whose hands was real power, soldiers who fired, carried provisions and guns, it was necessary that they agreed to fulfill this will of individual and weak people and were led to this by countless complex, diverse reasons.

Fatalism in history is inevitable for explaining unreasonable phenomena (that is, those whose rationality we do not understand). The more we try to rationally explain these phenomena in history, the more unreasonable and incomprehensible they become for us.

Each person lives for himself, enjoys freedom to achieve his personal goals and feels with his whole being that he can now do or not do such and such an action; but as soon as he does it, so this action, committed at a certain moment in time, becomes irrevocable and becomes the property of history, in which it has not a free, but a predetermined significance.

There are two aspects of life in every person: personal life, which is all the more free, the more abstract its interests, and spontaneous, swarm life, where a person inevitably fulfills the laws prescribed to him.

A person consciously lives for himself, but serves as an unconscious tool for achieving historical, universal goals. A perfect deed is irrevocable, and its action, coinciding in time with millions of actions of other people, acquires historical significance. The higher a person stands on the social ladder, the more he is connected with great people, the more power he has over other people, the more obvious is the predestination and inevitability of his every action.

"The heart of the king is in the hand of God."

The king is a slave of history.

History, that is, the unconscious, general, swarming life of mankind, uses every minute of the life of kings as a tool for its own purposes.

Napoleon, despite the fact that more than ever, now, in 1812, it seemed to him that verser or not verser le sang de ses peuples depended on him (as Alexander wrote to him in his last letter), never more than now was subject to those inevitable laws that forced him (acting in relation to himself, as it seemed to him, according to his will) to do for the common cause, for the sake of history, what had to be done.