Book Nine: 1812 - Chapter XXI

by Leo Tolstoy

　　After the definite refusal he had received, Petya went to his roomand there locked himself in and wept bitterly. When he came in to tea,silent, morose, and with tear-stained face, everybody pretended not tonotice anything.

　　Next day the Emperor arrived in Moscow, and several of theRostovs' domestic serfs begged permission to go to have a look at him.That morning Petya was a long time dressing and arranging his hair andcollar to look like a grown-up man. He frowned before his lookingglass, gesticulated, shrugged his shoulders, and finally, withoutsaying a word to anyone, took his cap and left the house by the backdoor, trying to avoid notice. Petya decided to go straight to wherethe Emperor was and to explain frankly to some gentleman-in-waiting(he imagined the Emperor to be always surrounded bygentlemen-in-waiting) that he, Count Rostov, in spite of his youthwished to serve his country; that youth could be no hindrance toloyalty, and that he was ready to... While dressing, Petya hadprepared 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 forsuccess in reaching the Emperor- he even thought how surprisedeveryone would be at his youthfulness- and yet in the arrangement ofhis collar and hair and by his sedate deliberate walk he wished toappear a grown-up man. But the farther he went and the more hisattention was diverted by the ever-increasing crowds moving toward theKremlin, the less he remembered to walk with the sedateness anddeliberation of a man. As he approached the Kremlin he even began toavoid being crushed and resolutely stuck out his elbows in amenacing way. But within the Trinity Gateway he was so pressed tothe wall by people who probably were unaware of the patrioticintentions with which he had come that in spite of all hisdetermination he had to give in, and stop while carriages passed in,rumbling beneath the archway. Beside Petya stood a peasant woman, afootman, two tradesmen, and a discharged soldier. After standingsome time in the gateway, Petya tried to move forward in front ofthe others without waiting for all the carriages to pass, and he beganresolutely working his way with his elbows, but the woman just infront of him, who was the first against whom he directed hisefforts, angrily shouted at him:

　　"What are you shoving for, young lordling? Don't you see we're allstanding still? Then why push?"

　　"Anybody can shove," said the footman, and also began working hiselbows to such effect that he pushed Petya into a very filthy cornerof the gateway.

　　Petya wiped his perspiring face with his hands and pulled up thedamp collar which he had arranged so well at home to seem like aman's.

　　He felt that he no longer looked presentable, and feared that ifhe were now to approach the gentlemen-in-waiting in that plight hewould not be admitted to the Emperor. But it was impossible to smartenoneself up or move to another place, because of the crowd. One ofthe generals who drove past was an acquaintance of the Rostovs', andPetya thought of asking his help, but came to the conclusion that thatwould not be a manly thing to do. When the carriages had all passedin, the crowd, carrying Petya with it, streamed forward into theKremlin Square which was already full of people. There were people notonly in the square, but everywhere- on the slopes and on the roofs. Assoon as Petya found himself in the square he clearly heard the soundof bells and the joyous voices of the crowd that filled the wholeKremlin.

　　For a while the crowd was less dense, but suddenly all heads werebared, and everyone rushed forward in one direction. Petya was beingpressed so that he could scarcely breathe, and everybody shouted,"Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!" Petya stood on tiptoe and pushed andpinched, 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 randown her cheeks.

　　"Father! Angel! Dear one!" she kept repeating, wiping away her tearswith her fingers.

　　"Hurrah!" was heard on all sides.

　　For a moment the crowd stood still, but then it made another rushforward.

　　Quite beside himself, Petya, clinching his teeth and rolling hiseyes ferociously, pushed forward, elbowing his way and shouting"hurrah!" as if he were prepared that instant to kill himself andeveryone else, but on both sides of him other people with similarlyferocious faces pushed forward and everybody shouted "hurrah!"

　　"So this is what the Emperor is!" thought Petya. "No, I can'tpetition him myself- that would be too bold." But in spite of thishe continued to struggle desperately forward, and from between thebacks of those in front he caught glimpses of an open space with astrip of red cloth spread out on it; but just then the crowd swayedback- the police in front were pushing back those who had pressedtoo close to the procession: the Emperor was passing from the palaceto the Cathedral of the Assumption- and Petya unexpectedly receivedsuch a blow on his side and ribs and was squeezed so hard thatsuddenly everything grew dim before his eyes and he lostconsciousness. When he came to himself, a man of clerical appearancewith a tuft of gray hair at the back of his head and wearing ashabby blue cassock- probably a church clerk and chanter- washolding him under the arm with one hand while warding off the pressureof the crowd with the other.

　　"You've crushed the young gentleman!" said the clerk. "What areyou up to? Gently!... They've crushed him, crushed him!"

　　The Emperor entered the Cathedral of the Assumption. The crowdspread out again more evenly, and the clerk led Petya- pale andbreathless- to the Tsar-cannon. Several people were sorry for Petya,and suddenly a crowd turned toward him and pressed round him. Thosewho stood nearest him attended to him, unbuttoned his coat, seated himon 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!"- variousvoices were heard saying.

　　Petya soon came to himself, the color returned to his face, the painhad passed, and at the cost of that temporary unpleasantness he hadobtained a place by the cannon from where he hoped to see theEmperor who would be returning that way. Petya no longer thought ofpresenting his petition. If he could only see the Emperor he wouldbe 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'sarrival and of thanksgiving for the conclusion of peace with theTurks- the crowd outside spread out and hawkers appeared, sellingkvas, gingerbread, and poppyseed sweets (of which Petya wasparticularly fond), and ordinary conversation could again be heard.A tradesman's wife was showing a rent in her shawl and telling howmuch the shawl had cost; another was saying that all silk goods hadnow got dear. The clerk who had rescued Petya was talking to afunctionary about the priests who were officiating that day with thebishop. The clerk several times used the word "plenary" (of theservice), a word Petya did not understand. Two young citizens werejoking with some serf girls who were cracking nuts. All theseconversations, especially the joking with the girls, were such asmight have had a particular charm for Petya at his age, but they didnot interest him now. He sat on his elevation- the pedestal of thecannon- still agitated as before by the thought of the Emperor andby his love for him. The feeling of pain and fear he had experiencedwhen he was being crushed, together with that of rapture, stillfurther intensified his sense of the importance of the occasion.

　　Suddenly the sound of a firing of cannon was heard from theembankment, to celebrate the signing of peace with the Turks, andthe crowd rushed impetuously toward the embankment to watch thefiring. Petya too would have run there, but the clerk who had takenthe young gentleman under his protection stopped him. The firing wasstill proceeding when officers, generals, and gentlemen-in-waitingcame running out of the cathedral, and after them others in a moreleisurely manner: caps were again raised, and those who had run tolook at the cannon ran back again. At last four men in uniforms andsashes emerged from the cathedral doors. "Hurrah! hurrah!" shouted thecrowd again.

　　"Which is he? Which?" asked Petya in a tearful voice, of thosearound him, but no one answered him, everybody was too excited; andPetya, fixing on one of those four men, whom he could not clearlysee for the tears of joy that filled his eyes, concentrated all hisenthusiasm on him- though it happened not to be the Emperor-frantically shouted "Hurrah!" and resolved that tomorrow, come whatmight, he would join the army.

　　The crowd ran after the Emperor, followed him to the palace, andbegan to disperse. It was already late, and Petya had not eatenanything and was drenched with perspiration, yet he did not go homebut stood with that diminishing, but still considerable, crowdbefore the palace while the Emperor dined- looking in at the palacewindows, expecting he knew not what, and envying alike the notables hesaw arriving at the entrance to dine with the Emperor and the courtfootmen who served at table, glimpses of whom could be seen throughthe 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 Petyawith 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 handbroke off, fell on the balcony parapet, and then to the ground. Acoachman in a jerkin, who stood nearest, sprang forward and snatchedit up. Several people in the crowd rushed at the coachman. Seeing thisthe Emperor had a plateful of biscuits brought him and beganthrowing them down from the balcony. Petya's eyes grew bloodshot,and still more excited by the danger of being crushed, he rushed atthe biscuits. He did not know why, but he had to have a biscuit fromthe Tsar's hand and he felt that he must not give way. He sprangforward and upset an old woman who was catching at a biscuit; theold woman did not consider herself defeated though she was lying onthe ground- she grabbed at some biscuits but her hand did not reachthem. Petya pushed her hand away with his knee, seized a biscuit,and as if fearing to be too late, again shouted "Hurrah!" with a voicealready hoarse.

　　The Emperor went in, and after that the greater part of the crowdbegan to disperse.

　　"There! I said if only we waited- and so it was!" was being joyfullysaid by various people.

　　Happy as Petya was, he felt sad at having to go home knowing thatall the enjoyment of that day was over. He did not go straight homefrom the Kremlin, but called on his friend Obolenski, who wasfifteen and was also entering the regiment. On returning home Petyaannounced resolutely and firmly that if he was not allowed to enterthe service he would run away. And next day, Count Ilya Rostov- thoughhe had not yet quite yielded- went to inquire how he could arrange forPetya to serve where there would be least danger.