Book Twelve: 1812 - Chapter IV

by Leo Tolstoy

　　It is natural for us who were not living in those days to imaginethat when half Russia had been conquered and the inhabitants wereficeing to distant provinces, and one levy after another was beingraised for the defense of the fatherland, all Russians from thegreatest to the least were solely engaged in sacrificing themselves,saving their fatherland, or weeping over its downfall. The tales anddescriptions of that time without exception speak only of theself-sacrifice, patriotic devotion, despair, grief, and the heroism ofthe Russians. But it was not really so. It appears so to us because wesee only the general historic interest of that time and do not see allthe personal human interests that people had. Yet in reality thosepersonal interests of the moment so much transcend the generalinterests that they always prevent the public interest from being feltor even noticed. Most of the people at that time paid no attentionto the general progress of events but were guided only by theirprivate interests, and they were the very people whose activities atthat period were most useful.

　　Those who tried to understand the general course of events and totake part in it by self-sacrifice and heroism were the most uselessmembers of society, they saw everything upside down, and all theydid for the common good turned out to be useless and foolish- likePierre's and Mamonov's regiments which looted Russian villages, andthe lint the young ladies prepared and that never reached the wounded,and so on. Even those, fond of intellectual talk and of expressingtheir feelings, who discussed Russia's position at the timeinvoluntarily introduced into their conversation either a shade ofpretense and falsehood or useless condemnation and anger directedagainst people accused of actions no one could possibly be guiltyof. In historic events the rule forbidding us to eat of the fruit ofthe Tree of Knowledge is specially applicable. Only unconscious actionbears fruit, and he who plays a part in an historic event neverunderstands its significance. If he tries to realize it his effortsare fruitless.

　　The more closely a man was engaged in the events then taking placein Russia the less did he realize their significance. In Petersburgand in the provinces at a distance from Moscow, ladies, andgentlemen in militia uniforms, wept for Russia and its ancient capitaland talked of self-sacrifice and so on; but in the army whichretired beyond Moscow there was little talk or thought of Moscow,and when they caught sight of its burned ruins no one swore to beavenged on the French, but they thought about their next pay, theirnext quarters, of Matreshka the vivandiere, and like matters.

　　As the war had caught him in the service, Nicholas Rostov took aclose and prolonged part in the defense of his country, but did socasually, without any aim at self-sacrifice, and he therefore lookedat what was going on in Russia without despair and without dismallyracking his brains over it. Had he been asked what he thought of thestate of Russia, he would have said that it was not his business tothink 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 theirfull 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 ofa regiment in a couple of years' time.

　　As he looked at the matter in this way, he learned that he was beingsent to Voronezh to buy remounts for his division, not only withoutregret at being prevented from taking part in the coming battle, butwith the greatest pleasure- which he did not conceal and which hiscomrades fully understood.

　　A few days before the battle of Borodino, Nicholas received thenecessary money and warrants, and having sent some hussars on inadvance, he set out with post horses for Voronezh.

　　Only a man who has experienced it- that is, has passed some monthscontinuously in an atmosphere of campaigning and war- can understandthe delight Nicholas felt when he escaped from the region covered bythe army's foraging operations, provision trains, and hospitals. When-free from soldiers, wagons, and the filthy traces of a camp- he sawvillages with peasants and peasant women, gentlemen's countryhouses, fields where cattle were grazing, posthouses withstationmasters asleep in them, he rejoiced as though seeing all thisfor the first time. What for a long while specially surprised anddelighted him were the women, young and healthy, without a dozenofficers making up to each of them; women, too, who were pleased andflattered that a passing officer should joke with them.

　　In the highest spirits Nicholas arrived at night at a hotel inVoronezh, ordered things he had long been deprived of in camp, andnext day, very clean-shaven and in a full-dress uniform he had notworn for a long time, went to present himself to the authorities.

　　The commander of the militia was a civilian general, an old manwho was evidently pleased with his military designation and rank. Hereceived Nicholas brusquely (imagining this to be characteristicallymilitary) and questioned him with an important air, as ifconsidering the general progress of affairs and approving anddisapproving with full right to do so. Nicholas was in such goodspirits that this merely amused him.

　　From the commander of the militia he drove to the governor. Thegovernor was a brisk little man, very simple and affable. He indicatedthe stud farms at which Nicholas might procure horses, recommendedto him a horse dealer in the town and a landowner fourteen miles outof town who had the best horses, and promised to assist him in everyway.

　　"You are Count Ilya Rostov's son? My wife was a great friend of yourmother's. We are at home on Thursdays- today is Thursday, so pleasecome and see us quite informally," said the governor, taking leaveof him.

　　Immediately on leaving the governor's, Nicholas hired post horsesand, taking his squadron quartermaster with him, drove at a gallopto the landowner, fourteen miles away, who had the stud. Everythingseemed to him pleasant and easy during that first part of his stayin Voronezh and, as usually happens when a man is in a pleasantstate of mind, everything went well and easily.

　　The landowner to whom Nicholas went was a bachelor, an oldcavalryman, a horse fancier, a sportsman, the possessor of somecentury-old brandy and some old Hungarian wine, who had a snuggerywhere he smoked, and who owned some splendid horses.

　　In very few words Nicholas bought seventeen picked stallions for sixthousand 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 wasalready on the friendliest terms- galloped back over abominable roads,in the brightest frame of mind, continually urging on the driver so asto be in time for the governor's party.

　　When he had changed, poured water over his head, and scentedhimself, Nicholas arrived at the governor's rather late, but withthe phrase "better late than never" on his lips.

　　It was not a ball, nor had dancing been announced, but everyone knewthat Catherine Petrovna would play valses and the ecossaise on theclavichord and that there would be dancing, and so everyone had comeas to a ball.

　　Provincial life in 1812 went on very much as usual, but with thisdifference, that it was livelier in the towns in consequence of thearrival of many wealthy families from Moscow, and as in everythingthat went on in Russia at that time a special recklessness wasnoticeable, an "in for a penny, in for a pound- who cares?" spirit,and the inevitable small talk, instead of turning on the weather andmutual acquaintances, now turned on Moscow, the army, and Napoleon.

　　The society gathered together at the governor's was the best inVoronezh.

　　There were a great many ladies and some of Nicholas' Moscowacquaintances, but there were no men who could at all vie with thecavalier of St. George, the hussar remount officer, the good-naturedand well-bred Count Rostov. Among the men was an Italian prisoner,an officer of the French army; and Nicholas felt that the presenceof that prisoner enhanced his own importance as a Russian hero. TheItalian was, as it were, a war trophy. Nicholas felt this, it seemedto him that everyone regarded the Italian in the same light, and hetreated him cordially though with dignity and restraint.

　　As soon as Nicholas entered in his hussar uniform, diffusingaround him a fragrance of perfume and wine, and had uttered thewords "better late than never" and heard them repeated several timesby others, people clustered around him; all eyes turned on him, and hefelt at once that he had entered into his proper position in theprovince- that of a universal favorite: a very pleasant position,and intoxicatingly so after his long privations. At postingstations, at inns, and in the landowner's snuggery, maidservants hadbeen flattered by his notice, and here too at the governor's partythere were (as it seemed to Nicholas) an inexhaustible number ofpretty young women, married and unmarried, impatiently awaiting hisnotice. The women and girls flirted with him and, from the firstday, the people concerned themselves to get this fine youngdaredevil of an hussar married and settled down. Among these was thegovernor's wife herself, who welcomed Rostov as a near relative andcalled him "Nicholas."

　　Catherine Petrovna did actually play valses and the ecossaise, anddancing began in which Nicholas still further captivated theprovincial society by his agility. His particularly free manner ofdancing even surprised them all. Nicholas was himself rather surprisedat the way he danced that evening. He had never danced like that inMoscow and would even have considered such a very free and easy mannerimproper and in bad form, but here he felt it incumbent on him toastonish them all by something unusual, something they would have toaccept as the regular thing in the capital though new to them in theprovinces.

　　All the evening Nicholas paid attention to a blue-eyed, plump andpleasing little blonde, the wife of one of the provincial officials.With the naive conviction of young men in a merry mood that othermen's wives were created for them, Rostov did not leave the lady'sside and treated her husband in a friendly and conspiratorial style,as if, without speaking of it, they knew how capitally Nicholas andthe lady would get on together. The husband, however, did not seemto share that conviction and tried to behave morosely with Rostov. Butthe latter's good-natured naivete was so boundless that sometimes evenhe involuntarily yielded to Nicholas' good humor. Toward the end ofthe evening, however, as the wife's face grew more flushed andanimated, the husband's became more and more melancholy and solemn, asthough there were but a given amount of animation between them andas the wife's share increased the husband's diminished.