War And Peace: Book 9 - CHAPTER VI

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THOUGH BALASHOV was accustomed to the pomp of courts, he was impressed by the

splendour and luxury of Napoleon's court.

Count de Turenne led him into the great reception-room, where a number of

generals, gentlemen-in-waiting, and Polish magnates were waiting to see the

Emperor. Many of them Balashov had seen at the court of the Russian Emperor.

Duroc told him that the Emperor Napoleon would receive the Russian general

before going out for his ride.

After a delay of several moments, a gentleman-in-waiting came into the great

reception-room, and bowing courteously to Balashov, invited him to follow

him.

Balashov went into the little reception-room, from which one door led to the

study, the room where he had received the Russian Emperor's last charges before

setting off. Balashov stood for a couple of minutes waiting. Hurried steps were

audible through the door. Both halves of the door were swiftly thrown open, and

in the complete stillness that followed other firm and resolute steps could be

heard from the study: it was Napoleon. He had only just finished dressing for

his ride. He was wearing a blue uniform, open over a white waistcoat, that came

low down over his round belly, riding-boots, and white doeskin breeches, fitting

tightly over his fat, short legs. His short hair had evidently just been

brushed, but one lock hung down in the middle of his broad forehead. His plump,

white neck stood out in sharp contrast to the black collar of his uniform; he

smelt of eau-de-cologne. His still young-looking, full face, with its prominent

chin, wore an expression of imperial graciousness and majestically condescending

welcome.

He walked out with a quivering strut, his head thrown a little back. His

whole stout, short figure, with his broad, fat shoulders and his prominent

stomach and chest, had that imposing air of dignity common in men of forty who

live in comfort. It was evident, too, that he happened that day to be in a

particularly good humour.

He nodded in acknowledgment of Balashov's low and respectful bow, and going

up to him, began to talk at once like a man who values every minute of his time,

and will not deign to preface what he is going to say, as he is sure of always

speaking well and saying the right thing.

“Good-day, general!” said he. “I have received the Emperor Alexander's letter

that you brought, and I am very glad to see you.” He glanced at Balashov's face

with his large eyes, and immediately looked past him.

It was obvious that he took no interest in Balashov's personality. It was

plain that only what was passing in his soul had for him any interest.

All that was outside him had no significance for him, because everything in the

world depended, as he fancied, on his will.

“I do not, and did not, desire war,” he said, “but you have forced me to it.

Even now” (he threw emphasis on the word) “I am ready to receive any

explanations you can give me.” And he began briefly and clearly explaining the

grounds of his displeasure with the Russian government.

Judging from the studiously composed and amicable tone of the French Emperor,

Balashov was thoroughly persuaded that he was desirous of peace, and intended to

enter into negotiations.

“Sire! The Emperor, my sovereign,” Balashov began, meaning to utter the

speech he had prepared long before as soon as Napoleon had finished speaking,

and looked inquiringly at him. But the look the Emperor turned upon him

disconcerted him. “You are embarrassed; recover yourself,” Napoleon seemed to

say, as with a hardly perceptible smile he scanned Balashov's sword and uniform.

Balashov regained his composure, and began to speak. He said that the Emperor

Alexander did not regard Kurakin's asking for his passport a sufficient cause

for war; that Kurakin had acted on his own initiative without the Tsar's

consent; that the Tsar did not desire war, and that he had no relations with

England.

“Not as yet,” Napoleon put in, and as though afraid to abandon himself

to his feelings, he frowned and nodded slightly as a sign to Balashov that he

might continue.

After saying all he had been instructed to say, Balashov wound up by saying

that the Emperor Alexander was desirous of peace, but that he would not enter

into negotiations except upon condition that… At that point Balashov hesitated;

he recollected words the Emperor Alexander had not written in his letter, but

had insisted on inserting in the rescript to Saltykov, and had commanded

Balashov to repeat to Napoleon. Balashov remembered those words: “As long as a

single enemy under arms remains on Russian soil,” but some complicated feeling

checked his utterance of them. He could not utter those words, though he tried

to do so. He stammered, and said: “On condition the French troops retreat beyond

the Niemen.”

Napoleon observed Balashov's embarrassment in the utterance of those last

words: his face quivered, and the calf of his left leg began twitching

rhythmically. Not moving from where he stood, he began speaking in a louder and

more hurried voice than before. During the speech that followed Balashov could

not help staring at the twitching of Napoleon's left leg, which grew more marked

as his voice grew louder.

“I am no less desirous of peace than the Emperor Alexander,” he began.

“Haven't I been doing everything for the last eighteen months to obtain it? For

eighteen months I have been waiting for an explanation, but before opening

negotiations, what is it that's required of me?” he said, frowning and making a

vigorous gesticulation with his fat, little white hand.

“The withdrawal of the forces beyond the Niemen, sire,” said Balashov.

“Beyond the Niemen?” repeated Napoleon. “So now you want me to retreat beyond

the Niemen—only beyond the Niemen?” repeated Napoleon, looking straight at

Balashov.

Balashov bowed his head respectfully.

Four months before he had been asked to withdraw from Pomerania; now

withdrawal beyond the Niemen was all that was required. Napoleon turned quickly

away, and began walking up and down the room.

“You say that I am required to withdraw beyond the Niemen before opening

negotiations; but two months ago I was required in the same way to withdraw

beyond the Oder and the Vistula, and in spite of that you agree to enter into

negotiations.”

He strode in silence from one corner of the room to the other and stopped

again, facing Balashov. Balashov noticed that his left leg was twitching more

rapidly than ever, and his face looked as though petrified in its stern

expression. Napoleon was aware of this twitching. “The vibration of my left calf

is a great sign with me,” he said in later days.

“Such demands as to retire beyond the Oder and the Vistula may be made to a

prince of Baden, but not to me,” Napoleon almost screamed, quite to his own

surprise. “If you were to give me Petersburg and Moscow I wouldn't accept such

conditions. You say: I began the war. But who was the first to join his army?

The Emperor Alexander, and not I. And you offer me negotiations when I have

spent millions, when you are in alliance with England, and when your position is

weak—you offer me negotiations! What is the object of your alliance with

England? What has it given you?” he asked hurriedly. The motive of his words was

obviously now not to enlarge on the benefits of peace and to consider its

possibility, but simply to prove his own rectitude, and his own power, and point

out the duplicity and the errors of Alexander.

He had plainly intended in entering on this conversation to point out the

advantages of his own position, and to signify that in spite of them he would

entertain the proposal of negotiations. But he had begun talking, and the more

he talked the less able was he to control the tenor of his words.

The whole gist of his words now was obviously to glorify himself and to

insult Alexander, precisely what he had least intended doing at the beginning of

the interview.

“I am told you have concluded a peace with the Turks?”

Balashov bent his head affirmatively. “Peace has been concluded…” he began.

But Napoleon did not allow him to speak. He clearly did not wish any one to

speak but himself, and he went on with the unrestrained volubility and

irritability to which people spoilt by success are so prone. “Yes, I know you

have made peace with the Turks without gaining Moldavia and Wallachia. I would

have given your Emperor those provinces just as I gave him Finland. Yes,” he

went on, “I promised, and would have given the Emperor Alexander Moldavia and

Wallachia, but now he will not possess those fair provinces. He might have

united them to his empire, however, and he would have enlarged the frontiers of

Russia from the Gulf of Bothnia to the mouth of the Danube. Catherine the Great

could have done no more,” Napoleon declared, growing hotter and hotter as he

walked up and down the room, and repeated to Balashov almost the words he had

used to Alexander himself at Tilsit. “All that he would have owed to my

friendship. Ah, what a fine reign! what a fine reign might have been that

of the Emperor Alexander. Oh, what a grand reign,” he repeated several times. He

stopped, took a gold snuffbox out of his pocket, and greedily put it to his

nose.

He turned a commiserating glance on Balashov, and as soon as he would have

made some observation, he hurriedly interrupted him again.

“What could he desire and look for that he would not have gained from my

friendship?…” said Napoleon, shrugging his shoulders with an air of perplexity.

“No, he has thought better to surround himself with my enemies. And with whom?”

he went on. “He has gathered round him the Steins, the Armfeldts, the

Bennigsens, the Wintzengerodes. Stein is a traitor, driven out of his own

country; Armfeldt an intriguing debauchee; Wintzengerode a renegade French

subject; Bennigsen is, indeed, rather more of a soldier than the rest, but still

he's incompetent; he could do nothing in 1807, and I should have thought he must

recall painful memories to the Emperor Alexander.… Even supposing he might make

use of them if they were competent,” Napoleon went on, his words hardly able to

keep pace with the rush of ideas that proved to him his right or his might

(which to his mind meant the same), “but they are not even that! They are no use

for war or for peace! Barclay, I'm told, is more capable than all of them, but I

shouldn't say so, judging from his first man

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1. Ebooks list page : 83
2. War And Peace: Book 4 - CHAPTER V
3. War And Peace: Book 2 - CHAPTER III
4. War And Peace: Book 2 - CHAPTER II
5. War And Peace: Book 2 - CHAPTER I
6. War And Peace: Book 2 - CHAPTER IV
7. War And Peace: Book 3 - CHAPTER XIX
8. War And Peace: Book 3 - CHAPTER XVI
9. War And Peace: Book 3 - CHAPTER XV
10. War And Peace: Book 3 - CHAPTER XIV
11. War And Peace: Book 2 - CHAPTER V
12. War And Peace: Book 2 - CHAPTER VI
13. War And Peace: Book 2 - CHAPTER XIX
14. War And Peace: Book 2 - CHAPTER XVI
15. War And Peace: Book 2 - CHAPTER XIV
16. War And Peace: Book 2 - CHAPTER XV