‘Bonaparte sets about Europe like a pirate-king on a captured ship,’ said Rostopchin, rehearsing a little saying he had had occasion to use before. ‘One can only wonder that the ruling sovereigns are so tolerant – or so easily dazzled. The Pope is next in line. Bonaparte is brazen enough to try and depose the head of the Catholic Church, and no one says a word. Our Emperor is the only one who has protested against the seizure of the Duke of Oldenburg’s lands. And even he . . .’ Count Rostopchin broke off at this point, sensing that he was on the very brink of prohibited criticism.
‘He’s been offered other bits of land instead of the Duchy of Oldenburg,’ said the old prince. ‘He shifts the dukes about anywhere he likes . . . It’s like me sending my serfs from Bald Hills over to Bogucharovo or down to Ryazan.’
‘The Duke of Oldenburg bears his misfortune with admirable strength of character and resignation,’ said Boris in a polite contribution to the discussion. He could say this because on the way down from Petersburg he had had the honour of being presented to the duke. The old prince stared at the young man as if he wanted to take him up on something, but he thought better of it, considering him too young.
‘I have read our protest against the Oldenburg affair, and I was surprised at the poor wording of it,’ said Count Rostopchin with the offhand manner of one who can criticize something because he is closely familiar with it.
Pierre looked at Rostopchin in innocent amazement, at a loss to understand why he should be bothered about the poor wording of the note.
‘Does it matter how the note is worded, Count,’ he said, ‘if the content is strong enough?’
‘My dear fellow, with five hundred thousand men behind us, it should be easy to get the style right,’ said Count Rostopchin. Pierre saw the point of Count Rostopchin’s dissatisfaction with the wording of the note.
‘Plenty of scribblers everywhere,’ said the old prince. ‘Up in Petersburg they do nothing else but write – not just notes, they keep on writing new laws. My Andrey up yonder, he’s written a thick volume of new laws for Russia. Everybody’s at it nowadays!’ and he gave a weird kind of laugh.
The conversation ground to a halt, and then the old general drew attention to himself by clearing his throat.
‘Did you hear what happened at the review in Petersburg? Marvellous performance by the new French ambassador!’
‘Eh? Oh yes, I did hear something. Blurted something out in his Majesty’s presence, didn’t he?’
‘His Majesty drew his attention to the grenadier division as they marched past,’ the general persisted, ‘and it seems the ambassador ignored him and had the gall to say “In France we don’t bother with stupid things like that.” The Emperor vouchsafed no response. At the next review his Majesty, so they say, gave him the cold shoulder.’
No one spoke. Here was a detail pertaining to the Tsar personally, but it was beyond criticism.
‘The cheek of the man!’ said the old prince. ‘Do you know Métivier? I threw him out of the house today. He came here and they let him in, even though I asked for no one to be admitted,’ said the old prince, glaring across at his daughter. And he went through the whole of his conversation with the French doctor and his reasons for believing Métivier was a spy. His reasons were very flimsy and obscure, but no one raised an objection.
After the main course champagne was served. The guests rose to congratulate the old prince. Princess Marya too went round to him. He treated her to a cold, spiteful glare, and offered her a clean-shaven, wrinkled cheek. There was a look on his face that said everything: their conversation that morning had not been forgotten, his decision still stood and only the presence of visitors prevented him from talking about it now.
When they proceeded to the drawing-room for coffee the old men sat down together. Prince Nikolay got more excited and began to expound his ideas on the impending war. He said that our wars against Bonaparte would always be lost while ever we went on seeking alliances with the Germans and meddling in European affairs that we couldn’t get out of because of the Peace of Tilsit. ‘We have no business fighting for or against Austria,’ he went on. ‘Our political interests are all to the east, and as far as Napoleon is concerned all we need is a well-armed force guarding the frontier and a strong policy, and he won’t dare cross the Russian frontier again, as he did in 1807.’
‘But how are we ever going to be able to fight the French, Prince!’ said Count Rostopchin. ‘How can we take arms against our teachers and our idols? Look at our young men, look at our ladies. The French are our gods, and Paris is our Paradise.’
He began to raise his voice so that everyone could hear.
