Book Eleven: 1812 - Chapter XII

by Leo Tolstoy

　　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 forBelaya Tserkov where that regiment was forming, the countess wasseized with terror. The thought that both her sons were at the war,had both gone from under her wing, that today or tomorrow either orboth of them might be killed like the three sons of one of heracquaintances, struck her that summer for the first time with cruelclearness. She tried to get Nicholas back and wished to go herselfto join Petya, or to get him an appointment somewhere in Petersburg,but neither of these proved possible. Petya could not return unlesshis regiment did so or unless he was transferred to another regimenton active service. Nicholas was somewhere with the army and had notsent a word since his last letter, in which he had given a detailedaccount of his meeting with Princess Mary. The countess did notsleep at night, or when she did fall asleep dreamed that she saw hersons lying dead. After many consultations and conversations, the countat last devised means to tranquillize her. He got Petya transferredfrom Obolenski's regiment to Bezukhov's, which was in training nearMoscow. Though Petya would remain in the service, this transferwould give the countess the consolation of seeing at least one ofher sons under her wing, and she hoped to arrange matters for herPetya so as not to let him go again, but always get him appointed toplaces where he could not possibly take part in a battle. As long asNicholas alone was in danger the countess imagined that she lovedher first-born more than all her other children and even reproachedherself for it; but when her youngest: the scapegrace who had been badat lessons, was always breaking things in the house and making himselfa nuisance to everybody, that snub-nosed Petya with his merry blackeyes and fresh rosy cheeks where soft down was just beginning to show-when he was thrown amid those big, dreadful, cruel men who werefighting somewhere about something and apparently finding pleasurein it- then his mother thought she loved him more, much more, than allher other children. The nearer the time came for Petya to return,the more uneasy grew the countess. She began to think she wouldnever live to see such happiness. The presence of Sonya, of herbeloved Natasha, or even of her husband irritated her. "What do I wantwith them? I want no one but Petya," she thought.

　　At the end of August the Rostovs received another letter fromNicholas. He wrote from the province of Voronezh where he had beensent to procure remounts, but that letter did not set the countessat ease. Knowing that one son was out of danger she became the moreanxious about Petya.

　　Though by the twentieth of August nearly all the Rostovs'acquaintances had left Moscow, and though everybody tried topersuade the countess to get away as quickly as possible, she wouldnot bear of leaving before her treasure, her adored Petya, returned.On the twenty-eighth of August he arrived. The passionate tendernesswith which his mother received him did not please the sixteen-year-oldofficer. Though she concealed from him her intention of keeping himunder her wing, Petya guessed her designs, and instinctively fearingthat he might give way to emotion when with her- might "becomewomanish" as he termed it to himself- he treated her coldly, avoidedher, and during his stay in Moscow attached himself exclusively toNatasha for whom he had always had a particularly brotherlytenderness, almost lover-like.

　　Owing to the count's customary carelessness nothing was ready fortheir departure by the twenty-eighth of August and the carts that wereto come from their Ryazan and Moscow estates to remove their householdbelongings did not arrive till the thirtieth.

　　From the twenty-eighth till the thirty-first all Moscow was in abustle and commotion. Every day thousands of men wounded at Borodinowere brought in by the Dorogomilov gate and taken to various partsof Moscow, and thousands of carts conveyed the inhabitants and theirpossessions out by the other gates. In spite of Rostopchin'sbroadsheets, or because of them or independently of them, thestrangest and most contradictory rumors were current in the town. Somesaid that no one was to be allowed to leave the city, others on thecontrary said that all the icons had been taken out of the churchesand everybody was to be ordered to leave. Some said there had beenanother battle after Borodino at which the French had been routed,while others on the contrary reported that the Russian army bad beendestroyed. Some talked about the Moscow militia which, preceded by theclergy, would go to the Three Hills; others whispered that Augustinhad been forbidden to leave, that traitors had been seized, that thepeasants were rioting and robbing people on their way from Moscow, andso on. But all this was only talk; in reality (though the Council ofFili, at which it was decided to abandon Moscow, had not yet beenheld) 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 savetheir belongings. It was felt that everything would suddenly breakup 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 dieimmediately, but yet looks about him and straightens the cap that isawry on his head, so Moscow involuntarily continued its wonted life,though it knew that the time of its destruction was near when theconditions of life to which its people were accustomed to submit wouldbe completely upset.

　　During the three days preceding the occupation of Moscow the wholeRostov family was absorbed in various activities. The head of thefamily, Count Ilya Rostov, continually drove about the city collectingthe current rumors from all sides and gave superficial and hastyorders at home about the preparations for their departure.

　　The countess watched the things being packed, was dissatisfiedwith everything, was constantly in pursuit of Petya who was alwaysrunning away from her, and was jealous of Natasha with whom he spentall his time. Sonya alone directed the practical side of matters bygetting things packed. But of late Sonya had been particularly sad andsilent. Nicholas' letter in which he mentioned Princess Mary hadelicited, in her presence, joyous comments from the countess, whosaw an intervention of Providence in this meeting of the princessand Nicholas.

　　"I was never pleased at Bolkonski's engagement to Natasha," said thecountess, "but I always wanted Nicholas to marry the princess, and hada presentiment that it would happen. What a good thing it would be!"

　　Sonya felt that this was true: that the only possibility ofretrieving 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 onherself all the difficult work of directing the storing and packing oftheir things and was busy for whole days. The count and countessturned to her when they had any orders to give. Petya and Natasha onthe contrary, far from helping their parents, were generally anuisance and a hindrance to everyone. Almost all day long the houseresounded with their running feet, their cries, and theirspontaneous laughter. They laughed and were gay not because therewas any reason to laugh, but because gaiety and mirth were in theirhearts and so everything that happened was a cause for gaiety andlaughter to them. Petya was in high spirits because having left home aboy he had returned (as everybody told him) a fine young man,because he was at home, because he had left Belaya Tserkov where therewas no hope of soon taking part in a battle and had come to Moscowwhere there was to be fighting in a few days, and chiefly becauseNatasha, whose lead he always followed, was in high spirits. Natashawas gay because she had been sad too long and now nothing reminded herof the cause of her sadness, and because she was feeling well. She wasalso happy because she had someone to adore her: the adoration ofothers was a lubricant the wheels of her machine needed to make themrun freely- and Petya adored her. Above all, they were gay becausethere was a war near Moscow, there would be fighting at the towngates, arms were being given out, everybody was escaping- going awaysomewhere, and in general something extraordinary was happening, andthat is always exciting, especially to the young.