When they had all been taken away for the night to a large house on the Zubov rampart, where a guardhouse had been set up, Pierre was separated from the rest and placed under close guard.
VOLUME IV
PART I
CHAPTER 1
Meanwhile in Petersburg a complex struggle was not only continuing in the highest circles, it was gaining in intensity. The parties involved – those of Rumyantsev, the French set, Marya Fyodorovna, the Tsarevich and others – found themselves drowned out as always by the buzzing of the court drones. But life in the city went on as before, an easy life, full of luxury, disturbed only by phantoms and reflections of real life, and this meant that a great effort of will was needed for them to realize just how dangerous and difficult the situation of the Russian people was. There were the same receptions and balls, the same French theatre, the same interests pursued at court, the same interests and intrigues pursued in government service. Only in the very highest circles was an effort made to bear in mind the full difficulty of the present situation. It was whispered that the two Empresses had adopted polarized attitudes towards these difficult circumstances. The Dowager Empress, Marya Fyodorovna, worried about the welfare of the charities and educational institutions of which she was patron, had made arrangements for them all to be evacuated to Kazan, and all their belongings were now packed. But when the younger Empress, Yelizaveta Alexeyevna, was asked what arrangements she might like to make, she replied graciously enough, with the patriotic spirit that was now her byword, that she couldn’t make any arrangements for state institutions, since they were the Tsar’s business, but as far as she personally was concerned, she stated in the same gracious way that she would be the last person to leave Petersburg.
On the 26th of August, the very day of the battle of Borodino, a soirée was held at Anna Pavlovna Scherer’s house, the high point of which was to be a reading of the Metropolitan’s letter written to accompany the icon of Saint Sergiy, which was being sent to the Tsar. This letter was considered a model of ecclesiastical and patriotic eloquence. It was to be read by no less a person than Prince Vasily, who was famous for his powers of declamation. (He was one of the Empress’s readers.) His declamatory skill consisted in delivering a torrent of words in sonorous tones and a sing-song voice that plunged up and down between a gentle murmur and a despairing wail irrespective of meaning, which meant it was entirely a matter of chance whether any particular words attracted a murmur or a wail. This reading, as always with Anna Pavlovna and her hospitality, was not without political significance. She was expecting a number of bigwigs, and she wanted to embarrass them for continuing to visit the French theatre, and appeal to their patriotic spirit. A lot of people had already arrived, but not all of the ones she was waiting for, so Anna Pavlovna delayed the reading and went about encouraging general conversation.
The hottest news in Petersburg concerned Countess Hélène Bezukhov, who was ill. The countess had fallen sick a few days ago, and missed a number of occasions at which she would normally have been the finest adornment. The word was that she refused to see anyone, and instead of engaging the famous Petersburg physicians who usually attended her, she had placed herself in the hands of some Italian doctor, who was giving her some new and unusual treatment.
Everybody knew only too well that the lovely countess’s indisposition arose from the difficulties of marrying two husbands at the same time, and the Italian doctor’s cure amounted to getting rid of the difficulties. But in the presence of Anna Pavlovna no one was bold enough to think thoughts like that; it was as if they knew nothing at all about it.
‘I hear the poor countess is very ill. The doctor says it’s angina pectoris.’
‘Angina? Oh, that’s an awful thing to have.’
‘They do say the rivals have been reconciled, thanks to the angina.’ They took great pleasure in mouthing the medical term.
‘I’m told the old count’s reaction was very moving. He cried like a baby when the doctor told him how serious it was.’
‘Oh, it would be a terrible loss. She’s such a charming woman.’
‘You’re talking about the poor countess,’ said Anna Pavlovna, sidling up. ‘I’ve sent for news of her. I did hear she was a bit better. Oh, there’s no doubt about it, she’s the loveliest woman in the world,’ said Anna Pavlovna, smiling at her own solemn words. ‘We do belong to different camps, but that doesn’t stop me giving the countess her due. She’s so unhappy.’
