Book One: 1805 - Chapter 5

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"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.

Read next: Book One: 1805#Chapter 6

Read previous: Book One: 1805#Chapter 4

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