First Epilogue: 1813-20 - Chapter V

by Leo Tolstoy

　　Natasha's wedding to Bezukhov, which took place in 1813, was thelast happy event in the family of the old Rostovs. Count Ilya Rostovdied that same year and, as always happens, after the father's deaththe family group broke up.

　　The events of the previous year: the burning of Moscow and theflight from it, the death of Prince Andrew, Natasha's despair, Petya'sdeath, and the old countess' grief fell blow after blow on the oldcount's head. He seemed to be unable to understand the meaning ofall these events, and bowed his old head in a spiritual sense as ifexpecting and inviting further blows which would finish him. He seemednow frightened and distraught and now unnaturally animated andenterprising.

　　The arrangements for Natasha's marriage occupied him for a while. Heordered dinners and suppers and obviously tried to appear cheerful,but his cheerfulness was not infectious as it used to be: on thecontrary it evoked the compassion of those who knew and liked him.

　　When Pierre and his wife had left, he grew very quiet and began tocomplain of depression. A few days later he fell ill and took to hisbed. He realized from the first that he would not get up again,despite the doctor's encouragement. The countess passed a fortnight inan armchair by his pillow without undressing. Every time she gavehim his medicine he sobbed and silently kissed her hand. On his lastday, sobbing, he asked her and his absent son to forgive him forhaving dissipated their property- that being the chief fault ofwhich he was conscious. After receiving communion and unction hequietly died; and next day a throng of acquaintances who came to paytheir last respects to the deceased filled the house rented by theRostovs. All these acquaintances, who had so often dined and danced athis house and had so often laughed at him, now said, with a commonfeeling of self-reproach and emotion, as if justifying themselves:"Well, whatever he may have been he was a most worthy man. You don'tmeet such men nowadays.... And which of us has not weaknesses of hisown?"

　　It was just when the count's affairs had become so involved thatit was impossible to say what would happen if he lived another yearthat he unexpectedly died.

　　Nicholas was with the Russian army in Paris when the news of hisfather's death reached him. He at once resigned his commission, andwithout waiting for it to be accepted took leave of absence and wentto Moscow. The state of the count's affairs became quite obvious amonth after his death, surprising everyone by the immense total ofsmall debts the existence of which no one had suspected. The debtsamounted to double the value of the property.

　　Friends and relations advised Nicholas to decline the inheritance.But he regarded such a refusal as a slur on his father's memory, whichhe held sacred, and therefore would not hear of refusing andaccepted the inheritance together with the obligation to pay thedebts.

　　The creditors who had so long been silent, restrained by a vague butpowerful influence exerted on them while he lived by the count'scareless good nature, all proceeded to enforce their claims at once.As always happens in such cases rivalry sprang up as to which shouldget paid first, and those who like Mitenka held promissory notes giventhem as presents now became the most exacting of the creditors.Nicholas was allowed no respite and no peace, and those who had seemedto pity the old man- the cause of their losses (if they werelosses)- now remorselessly pursued the young heir who hadvoluntarily undertaken the debts and was obviously not guilty ofcontracting them.

　　Not one of the plans Nicholas tried succeeded; the estate was soldby auction for half its value, and half the debts still remainedunpaid. Nicholas accepted thirty thousand rubles offered him by hisbrother-in-law Bezukhov to pay off debts he regarded as genuinelydue for value received. And to avoid being imprisoned for theremainder, as the creditors threatened, he re-entered the governmentservice.

　　He could not rejoin the army where he would have been made colonelat the next vacancy, for his mother now clung to him as her one holdon life; and so despite his reluctant to remain in Moscow among peoplewho had known him before, and despite his abhorrence of the civilservice, he accepted a post in Moscow in that service, doffed theuniform of which he was so fond, and moved with his mother and Sonyato a small house on the Sivtsev Vrazhek.

　　Natasha and Pierre were living in Petersburg at the time and hadno clear idea of Nicholas' circumstances. Having borrowed money fromhis brother-in-law, Nicholas tried to hide his wretched condition fromhim. His position was the more difficult because with his salary oftwelve hundred rubles he had not only to keep himself, his mother, andSonya, but had to shield his mother from knowledge of their poverty.The countess could not conceive of life without the luxuriousconditions she had been used to from childhood and, unable torealize how hard it was for her son, kept demanding now a carriage(which they did not keep) to send for a friend, now some expensivearticle of food for herself, or wine for her son, or money to buy apresent as a surprise for Natasha or Sonya, or for Nicholas himself.

　　Sonya kept house, attended on her aunt, read to her, put up with herwhims and secret ill-will, and helped Nicholas to conceal theirpoverty from the old countess. Nicholas felt himself irredeemablyindebted to Sonya for all she was doing for his mother and greatlyadmired her patience and devotion, but tried to keep aloof from her.

　　He seemed in his heart to reproach her for being too perfect, andbecause there was nothing to reproach her with. She had all thatpeople are valued for, but little that could have made him love her.He felt that the more he valued her the less he loved her. He hadtaken her at her word when she wrote giving him his freedom and nowbehaved as if all that had passed between them had been long forgottenand could never in any case be renewed.

　　Nicholas' position became worse and worse. The idea of puttingsomething aside out of his salary proved a dream. Not only did henot save anything, but to comply with his mother's demands he evenincurred some small debts. He could see no way out of thissituation. The idea of marrying some rich woman, which was suggestedto him by his female relations, was repugnant to him. The other wayout- his mother's death- never entered his head. He wished for nothingand hoped for nothing, and deep in his heart experienced a gloomyand stern satisfaction in an uncomplaining endurance of hisposition. He tried to avoid his old acquaintances with theircommiseration and offensive offers of assistance; he avoided alldistraction and recreation, and even at home did nothing but playcards with his mother, pace silently up and down the room, and smokeone pipe after another. He seemed carefully to cherish withinhimself the gloomy mood which alone enabled him to endure hisposition.