War and Peace - Leo Tolstoy [406]
Balashov, feeling it necessary to object, said that on the Russian side things did not look so gloomy. Napoleon said nothing, went on looking at him mockingly, and obviously was not listening to him. Balashov said that in Russia all sorts of good things were expected from the war. Napoleon nodded condescendingly, as if to say: “I know it’s your duty to say so, but you don’t believe it yourself, I have persuaded you.”
At the end of Balashov’s speech, Napoleon again took out his snuffbox, snuffed from it, and gave a signal by stamping his foot twice on the floor. The door opened; a respectfully flexing gentleman-in-waiting handed the emperor his hat and gloves, another handed him a handkerchief. Napoleon, without looking at them, turned to Balashov.
“Assure the emperor Alexander on my behalf,” he said, taking his hat, “that I am as devoted to him as before: I know him perfectly and value his lofty qualities very highly. Je ne vous retiens plus, général, vous recevrez ma lettre à l’Empereur.”†412 And Napoleon quickly went to the door. Everyone in the reception room rushed forward and down the stairs.
VII
After all that Napoleon had said to him, after those outbursts of wrath, and after those last drily spoken words—“Je ne vous retiens plus, général, vous recevrez ma lettre”—Balashov was convinced that Napoleon not only would not wish to see him, but would try not to see him—the envoy he had insulted and, moreover, the witness to his unseemly vehemence. But, to his surprise, Balashov received that day, through Duroc, an invitation to the emperor’s table.
Bessières, Caulaincourt, and Berthier were at dinner.
Napoleon met Balashov with a cheerful and benign air. Not only was there no expression in him of embarrassment or self-reproach for his morning’s outburst, but, on the contrary, he tried to encourage Balashov. Clearly it was Napoleon’s long-standing conviction that the possibility of mistakes did not exist for him, and to his mind everything he did was good, not because it agreed with any notion of what was good and bad, but because he did it.
The emperor was very cheerful after his promenade on horseback in Vilno, where crowds of rapturous people met him and followed him. In all the windows of the streets he rode down, carpets, banners, and his monogram were put out, and Polish ladies greeted him waving their handkerchiefs.
At dinner, seating Balashov beside him, he treated him not only benignly but as if he counted Balashov among his courtiers, among the people who sympathized with his plans and were supposed to be glad of his successes. Among other subjects, he talked about Moscow and began to ask Balashov about the Russian capital, not merely as a curious traveler asks about a new place he intends to visit, but as if convinced that Balashov, as a Russian, must be flattered by his curiosity.
“How many inhabitants does Moscow have? How many houses? Is it true that Moscou is called Moscou la sainte? How many churches are there in Moscou?” he asked.
And to the reply that there were more than two hundred churches, he said:
“Why such a profusion of churches?”
“The Russians are very pious,” answered Balashov.
“However, a great number of monasteries and churches is always a sign of a nation’s backwardness,” said Napoleon, turning to Caulaincourt for an appreciation of this judgment.
Balashov respectfully allowed himself to disagree with the French emperor’s opinion.
“Each country has its customs,” he said.
“But there’s nothing like that anywhere in Europe now,” said Napoleon.
“I beg Your Majesty’s pardon,” said Balashov, “besides Russia there is also Spain, where there are just as many churches and monasteries.”
This reply of Balashov’s, alluding to the recent defeat of the French in Spain,17 was highly appreciated later on, according to Balashov’s account, at the court of the emperor Alexander, but very little appreciated now, at Napoleon’s dinner, and went unnoticed.
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