Chapter Summaries: Dole: The two emperors. Napoleon decorates Lazaref. Napoleon's appearance. Comments among the soldiers. Nikolai's painful reflections. Contrasts. Nikolai's violence at dinner.
Briggs: Alexander and Napoleon meet. Nikolay is depressed and gets drunk.
Maude: Napoleon and Alexander as allies. Perplexity of Nicholas. 'Another bottle'
Translation:
XXI.
In the square where the sovereign went were standing face to face, to the right a battalion of the Preobrazhensky, and to the left a battalion of the French guard in bear hats.
At the time as the sovereign drove to one flank of the battalions, who made up the guard, to the opposite flank jumped another crowd of riders and ahead of them Rostov found Napoleon. This could not be another. He rode in a gallop in his little hat, with an Andreevsky ribbon across his shoulder, in an uncovered above his white camisole blue uniform, on an unusually thoroughbred gray Arab horse, on a raspberry, gold sewn saddle. Driving to Aleksandr, he raised his hat and at this movement the cavalry eye of Rostov could not notice that Napoleon badly and not firmly sat on his horse. The battalions screamed: hoorah and vivat Emperor!470 Napoleon said something to Aleksandr. Both emperors got off from their horses and took each other by the hand. On the face of Napoleon was an unpleasant feigned smile. Aleksandr with an affectionate expression spoke something to him.
Rostov, not lowering his eyes, despite the stomp of the horses of the French gendarmes, who besieged the crowd, watched every movement of Emperor Aleksandr and Bonaparte. He was so surprised and struck that Aleksandr held himself as an equal with Bonaparte, and how Bonaparte was completely free, as if this closeness with the sovereign was natural and familiar to him, how an equal approached the Russian tsar.
Aleksandr and Napoleon with a long tail of suites came up to the right flank of the Preobrazhensky battalion, all in the crowd which stood here. The crowd found itself suddenly so close to the emperors that Rostov, standing in its front ranks, had become fearful of how he would be recognized.
— Sire, I ask your permission to give the order of the legion of honor to the bravest of your soldiers,471 — said a sharp, precise voice, finishing talking at every letter.
This was spoken by the little by height Bonaparte, from below looking in the eyes of Aleksandr. Aleksandr carefully listened to that what he said, and tilting his head, nicely smiled.
— To that who bravest of all led himself in this war,472 — added Napoleon, striking every syllable, outrageous for Rostov’s calmness and certainly looking around the ranks of the Russian soldiers, elongated before him, all holding on guard and still looking at the face of their emperor.
— Let me, your majesty, ask the opinion of a colonel, 473 — said Aleksandr and he made a few hasty steps to Prince Kozlovsky, commander of the battalion. Bonaparte had begun between that to take off his glove from his white, little hand and, tearing it off, threw it. An adjutant, back hastily thrown forward, raised it.
— Whom to give it to? — not loudly, in Russian asked Emperor Aleksandr to Kozlovsky.
— Who do you order, your majesty.
The sovereign with a displeased grimace, looking back, said:
— We need to respond to him already.
Kozlovsky with a decisive look turned back into the ranks and in that glance seized Rostov.
"Whether it is really not me?" thought Rostov.
— Lazarev! — commanded the frowning colonel; and the first by rank soldier, Lazarev, smartly got out forward.
— What again are you? Stop here! — whispered a voice to Lazarev, not knowing where he was to go. Lazarev stopped, scared sideways at the colonel, and his face trembled, as this is with soldiers, caused by being before the front.
Napoleon a little bit turned his head backwards and took something backwards of his little chubby hand, as if he wished to take something. The faces of his suites, guessing at that same second the business, fussed, whispered, delivered something one to another, and the page, that very one, whom yesterday saw Rostov at Boris’s, ran out forward and respectfully leaned over his extended hand and not forcing him to wait for one second, invested in him the order in a red ribbon. Napoleon, not looking, reaped two fingertips. The order was found between them. Napoleon came up to Lazarev, who, rolling his eyes, stubbornly continued to look only at his sovereign, and turned back to Emperor Aleksandr, showing by this that what he did now, he did for his ally. The small white hand with the order touched to the buttons of the soldier Lazarev. As if Napoleon knew that for this, for forever this soldier was to be happy, awarded and distinguished from all the world, the need was only for him and Napoleon’s hand to touch to the breast of the honored soldier. Napoleon only attached the cross to the breast of Lazarev and, letting his hand go, turned to Aleksandr, as if he knew that the cross should stick to the breast of Lazarev. The cross really stuck.
A Russian and French helpful hand, instantly picking up the cross, hitched it to the uniform. Lazarev gloomily looked at the small man with white hands, which did something above him, and still keeping on guard, again beginning to look at the eye of Aleksandr, as if he asked Aleksandr: whether all should still stand, whether he was not ordered to walk now, or maybe there was still something to do. Yet he was not ordered, and he for quite long stayed in this motionless condition.
The sovereigns sat down to ride and left. The Preobrazhensky, upsetting ranks, mixed up with the French guardsmen and sat down behind tables prepared for them.
Lazarev sat in an honorary location; he was embraced, congratulated and shook his hand with Russian and French officers. A crowd of officers and people approached, so that only to look at Lazarev. A rumble of speech of Russians and French and laughter stood in the square around the tables. Two officers with flushed faces, funny and happy, passed by Rostov.
— What is it, brother, refreshment? All in silver, — said one. — Saw Lazarev?
— I saw.
— Tomorrow, they speak, Preobrazhensky will subdue them.
— No, that Lazarev, what happiness! 1200 francs for life pension.
— So here is a hat, guys! — shouted a Preobrazhensky, putting on a furry hat of a Frenchman.
— As good as a miracle, a beauty!
— Did you hear the review? — said a guard officer to another. — The third day was Napoleon, France, bravery;474 yesterday was Alexsandr, Russia, greatness;475 one day our sovereign will give a review, but on the other day Napoleon. Tomorrow the sovereign will send the George to the bravest of the French guardsmen. It cannot be already! I should answer by that already.
Boris with his friend Zhilinsky also came to look at the banquet of the Preobrazhensky. Returning back, Boris saw Rostov, who stood in a corner at home.
— Rostov! Hello; I have not seen you, — he said to him, and could not hold on, so that to not ask him, what he was doing: so weird, gloomily and disturbed was the face of Rostov.
— Nothing, nothing, — was response of Rostov.
— You called for?
— Yes, called for.
Rostov long stood in the corner, from afar looking at the feasting. In his mind happened agonizing work, which he could in no way lead to the end. In his soul rose scary doubt. He remembered Denisov with his changed expression, with his humility and all of the hospital with those severed hands and feet, with its mud and diseases. To him it seemed so lively that he now felt this sick smell of dead bodies, he looked around so that to understand from where this smell could happen. He remembered this complacent Bonaparte with his white hand, who was now the Emperor, who was loved and respected by the Emperor Aleksandr. For what again were those torn off hands, legs, and dead people? Then he remembered the awarded Lazarev and Denisov, punished and unforgiven. He made in himself these strange thoughts that frightened him.
The smell of the food of the Preobrazhensky and hunger called him from this state: the need was to have a bite of something before leaving. He went to the hotel which he saw in the morning. At the hotel he caught so many people and officers, so the same as he, arriving in civilian dress that he forcibly got lunch. Two officers, one with his division, had joined to him. The conversation naturally called for being about the peace. The officers, friends of Rostov, as a big part of the army, were unhappy at the peace concluded after Friedland. They said that were they still to hold, Napoleon would be gone, that he had no troops or bread, and that there really was no charge. Nikolay silently ate and predominantly drank. He alone drank two bottles of wine. He was internally ascended and allowing his work to torment him. He was afraid to give up his thoughts and could not be behind them. Suddenly at the words of one of the officers, how it was a shame to look at the French, Rostov started to shout with a fervor not justifiable, and because of this extremely surprised the officers.
— And how may you judge what would be better! — he shouted with a face suddenly overflowing with blood. — How may you judge about the acts of the sovereign, what do we have the right to reason?! We cannot understand the goals or deeds of the sovereign!
— Yes I did not speak words about the sovereign, — justified the officer, not being able to, other than Rostov being drunk, explain to himself his irascibility.
Yet Rostov did not listen to him.
— We are not diplomatic officials, but we are soldiers and nothing more, — he continued. — To die we are told — so we die. But if we are punished, it means — we are to blame; we do not judge. If the sovereign emperor acknowledges Bonaparte as emperor and concludes with him a union — it means we need to. But would we begin to judge all and to reason, nothing in that way saintly will remain. The way we say, no God, no nothing, — hitting the table shouted Nikolay, quite inappropriately, by the concepts of his interlocutors, but quite consistently going with his thoughts.
— Our business is to enforce our duty, to chop and not to think, here and everywhere, — he concluded.
— And drink, — said one of the officers, not wishing to argue.
— Yes, and drink, — picked up Nikolay. — Hey you! More bottles! — he shouted.
470 Vive l’Empereur! (Long live the Emperor!)
471 Sire, je vous demande la permission de donner la légion d’honneur au plus brave de vos soldats, (Sir, I ask your permission to give the Legion of Honor to the bravest of your soldiers,)
472 A celui qui s’est le plus vaillament conduit dans cette dernière guerre, (To him who most valiantly led in this last war,)
473 Votre majesté me permettra-t-elle de demander l’avis du colonel (Will your majesty allow me to ask the advice of the colonel?)
474 Napoléon, France, bravoure; (Napoleon, France, bravery;)
475 Alexandre, Russie, grandeur; (Alexander, Russia, greatness;)
Time: See previous chapter
Mentioned: To-morrow, the morning
Locations: See previous chapter, a hotel
Mentioned: France (and French), Arabian, Russian (Russie in the French), hospital, Friedland.
Pevear and Volkhonsky notes: We see Napoleon and Alexander here through Rostov's eyes.
Briggs: Alexander and Napoleon meet. Nikolay is depressed and gets drunk.
Maude: Napoleon and Alexander as allies. Perplexity of Nicholas. 'Another bottle'
Translation:
XXI.
In the square where the sovereign went were standing face to face, to the right a battalion of the Preobrazhensky, and to the left a battalion of the French guard in bear hats.
At the time as the sovereign drove to one flank of the battalions, who made up the guard, to the opposite flank jumped another crowd of riders and ahead of them Rostov found Napoleon. This could not be another. He rode in a gallop in his little hat, with an Andreevsky ribbon across his shoulder, in an uncovered above his white camisole blue uniform, on an unusually thoroughbred gray Arab horse, on a raspberry, gold sewn saddle. Driving to Aleksandr, he raised his hat and at this movement the cavalry eye of Rostov could not notice that Napoleon badly and not firmly sat on his horse. The battalions screamed: hoorah and vivat Emperor!470 Napoleon said something to Aleksandr. Both emperors got off from their horses and took each other by the hand. On the face of Napoleon was an unpleasant feigned smile. Aleksandr with an affectionate expression spoke something to him.
Rostov, not lowering his eyes, despite the stomp of the horses of the French gendarmes, who besieged the crowd, watched every movement of Emperor Aleksandr and Bonaparte. He was so surprised and struck that Aleksandr held himself as an equal with Bonaparte, and how Bonaparte was completely free, as if this closeness with the sovereign was natural and familiar to him, how an equal approached the Russian tsar.
Aleksandr and Napoleon with a long tail of suites came up to the right flank of the Preobrazhensky battalion, all in the crowd which stood here. The crowd found itself suddenly so close to the emperors that Rostov, standing in its front ranks, had become fearful of how he would be recognized.
— Sire, I ask your permission to give the order of the legion of honor to the bravest of your soldiers,471 — said a sharp, precise voice, finishing talking at every letter.
This was spoken by the little by height Bonaparte, from below looking in the eyes of Aleksandr. Aleksandr carefully listened to that what he said, and tilting his head, nicely smiled.
— To that who bravest of all led himself in this war,472 — added Napoleon, striking every syllable, outrageous for Rostov’s calmness and certainly looking around the ranks of the Russian soldiers, elongated before him, all holding on guard and still looking at the face of their emperor.
— Let me, your majesty, ask the opinion of a colonel, 473 — said Aleksandr and he made a few hasty steps to Prince Kozlovsky, commander of the battalion. Bonaparte had begun between that to take off his glove from his white, little hand and, tearing it off, threw it. An adjutant, back hastily thrown forward, raised it.
— Whom to give it to? — not loudly, in Russian asked Emperor Aleksandr to Kozlovsky.
— Who do you order, your majesty.
The sovereign with a displeased grimace, looking back, said:
— We need to respond to him already.
Kozlovsky with a decisive look turned back into the ranks and in that glance seized Rostov.
"Whether it is really not me?" thought Rostov.
— Lazarev! — commanded the frowning colonel; and the first by rank soldier, Lazarev, smartly got out forward.
— What again are you? Stop here! — whispered a voice to Lazarev, not knowing where he was to go. Lazarev stopped, scared sideways at the colonel, and his face trembled, as this is with soldiers, caused by being before the front.
Napoleon a little bit turned his head backwards and took something backwards of his little chubby hand, as if he wished to take something. The faces of his suites, guessing at that same second the business, fussed, whispered, delivered something one to another, and the page, that very one, whom yesterday saw Rostov at Boris’s, ran out forward and respectfully leaned over his extended hand and not forcing him to wait for one second, invested in him the order in a red ribbon. Napoleon, not looking, reaped two fingertips. The order was found between them. Napoleon came up to Lazarev, who, rolling his eyes, stubbornly continued to look only at his sovereign, and turned back to Emperor Aleksandr, showing by this that what he did now, he did for his ally. The small white hand with the order touched to the buttons of the soldier Lazarev. As if Napoleon knew that for this, for forever this soldier was to be happy, awarded and distinguished from all the world, the need was only for him and Napoleon’s hand to touch to the breast of the honored soldier. Napoleon only attached the cross to the breast of Lazarev and, letting his hand go, turned to Aleksandr, as if he knew that the cross should stick to the breast of Lazarev. The cross really stuck.
A Russian and French helpful hand, instantly picking up the cross, hitched it to the uniform. Lazarev gloomily looked at the small man with white hands, which did something above him, and still keeping on guard, again beginning to look at the eye of Aleksandr, as if he asked Aleksandr: whether all should still stand, whether he was not ordered to walk now, or maybe there was still something to do. Yet he was not ordered, and he for quite long stayed in this motionless condition.
The sovereigns sat down to ride and left. The Preobrazhensky, upsetting ranks, mixed up with the French guardsmen and sat down behind tables prepared for them.
Lazarev sat in an honorary location; he was embraced, congratulated and shook his hand with Russian and French officers. A crowd of officers and people approached, so that only to look at Lazarev. A rumble of speech of Russians and French and laughter stood in the square around the tables. Two officers with flushed faces, funny and happy, passed by Rostov.
— What is it, brother, refreshment? All in silver, — said one. — Saw Lazarev?
— I saw.
— Tomorrow, they speak, Preobrazhensky will subdue them.
— No, that Lazarev, what happiness! 1200 francs for life pension.
— So here is a hat, guys! — shouted a Preobrazhensky, putting on a furry hat of a Frenchman.
— As good as a miracle, a beauty!
— Did you hear the review? — said a guard officer to another. — The third day was Napoleon, France, bravery;474 yesterday was Alexsandr, Russia, greatness;475 one day our sovereign will give a review, but on the other day Napoleon. Tomorrow the sovereign will send the George to the bravest of the French guardsmen. It cannot be already! I should answer by that already.
Boris with his friend Zhilinsky also came to look at the banquet of the Preobrazhensky. Returning back, Boris saw Rostov, who stood in a corner at home.
— Rostov! Hello; I have not seen you, — he said to him, and could not hold on, so that to not ask him, what he was doing: so weird, gloomily and disturbed was the face of Rostov.
— Nothing, nothing, — was response of Rostov.
— You called for?
— Yes, called for.
Rostov long stood in the corner, from afar looking at the feasting. In his mind happened agonizing work, which he could in no way lead to the end. In his soul rose scary doubt. He remembered Denisov with his changed expression, with his humility and all of the hospital with those severed hands and feet, with its mud and diseases. To him it seemed so lively that he now felt this sick smell of dead bodies, he looked around so that to understand from where this smell could happen. He remembered this complacent Bonaparte with his white hand, who was now the Emperor, who was loved and respected by the Emperor Aleksandr. For what again were those torn off hands, legs, and dead people? Then he remembered the awarded Lazarev and Denisov, punished and unforgiven. He made in himself these strange thoughts that frightened him.
The smell of the food of the Preobrazhensky and hunger called him from this state: the need was to have a bite of something before leaving. He went to the hotel which he saw in the morning. At the hotel he caught so many people and officers, so the same as he, arriving in civilian dress that he forcibly got lunch. Two officers, one with his division, had joined to him. The conversation naturally called for being about the peace. The officers, friends of Rostov, as a big part of the army, were unhappy at the peace concluded after Friedland. They said that were they still to hold, Napoleon would be gone, that he had no troops or bread, and that there really was no charge. Nikolay silently ate and predominantly drank. He alone drank two bottles of wine. He was internally ascended and allowing his work to torment him. He was afraid to give up his thoughts and could not be behind them. Suddenly at the words of one of the officers, how it was a shame to look at the French, Rostov started to shout with a fervor not justifiable, and because of this extremely surprised the officers.
— And how may you judge what would be better! — he shouted with a face suddenly overflowing with blood. — How may you judge about the acts of the sovereign, what do we have the right to reason?! We cannot understand the goals or deeds of the sovereign!
— Yes I did not speak words about the sovereign, — justified the officer, not being able to, other than Rostov being drunk, explain to himself his irascibility.
Yet Rostov did not listen to him.
— We are not diplomatic officials, but we are soldiers and nothing more, — he continued. — To die we are told — so we die. But if we are punished, it means — we are to blame; we do not judge. If the sovereign emperor acknowledges Bonaparte as emperor and concludes with him a union — it means we need to. But would we begin to judge all and to reason, nothing in that way saintly will remain. The way we say, no God, no nothing, — hitting the table shouted Nikolay, quite inappropriately, by the concepts of his interlocutors, but quite consistently going with his thoughts.
— Our business is to enforce our duty, to chop and not to think, here and everywhere, — he concluded.
— And drink, — said one of the officers, not wishing to argue.
— Yes, and drink, — picked up Nikolay. — Hey you! More bottles! — he shouted.
470 Vive l’Empereur! (Long live the Emperor!)
471 Sire, je vous demande la permission de donner la légion d’honneur au plus brave de vos soldats, (Sir, I ask your permission to give the Legion of Honor to the bravest of your soldiers,)
472 A celui qui s’est le plus vaillament conduit dans cette dernière guerre, (To him who most valiantly led in this last war,)
473 Votre majesté me permettra-t-elle de demander l’avis du colonel (Will your majesty allow me to ask the advice of the colonel?)
474 Napoléon, France, bravoure; (Napoleon, France, bravery;)
475 Alexandre, Russie, grandeur; (Alexander, Russia, greatness;)
Time: See previous chapter
Mentioned: To-morrow, the morning
Locations: See previous chapter, a hotel
Mentioned: France (and French), Arabian, Russian (Russie in the French), hospital, Friedland.
Pevear and Volkhonsky notes: We see Napoleon and Alexander here through Rostov's eyes.
Rostov "could not help noticing that Napoleon sat on his horse poorly and unsteadily...Napoleon's face wore an unpleasantly false smile. Alexander was saying something to him with a benign expression."
He sees that Napoleon and Alexander treat each other as equals.
Napoleon tears a glove and puts Alexander and the commander of the battalion (Kozlovsky) in an awkward position by making them pick someone to give it to. This puts Lazarev, who is the one that was selected, in a very
awkward position, as he isn't sure what to do and is being pulled by three different sides (Alexander/Kozlovsky, Napoleon, and the soldiers around him). Napoleon puts the cross (or rather, he places it there and others
soldiers have to fasten it to him) on Lazerev's uniform. Very comical/parodic scene.
awkward position, as he isn't sure what to do and is being pulled by three different sides (Alexander/Kozlovsky, Napoleon, and the soldiers around him). Napoleon puts the cross (or rather, he places it there and others
soldiers have to fasten it to him) on Lazerev's uniform. Very comical/parodic scene.
Now, as the soldiers are congratulating each other, one day the passwords will be given by Alexander, the next day by Napoleon, further cementing that union.
When Boris invites Rostov to come by, Rostov is struggling with doubts, the visions of the hospital: "he remembered that self-satisfied Bonaparte with his white little hand, who was now an emperor, whom the emperor
Alexander liked and respected. Why, then, those torn-off arms and legs, those dead people? Then he remembered the rewarded Lazarev and Denisov punished and unforgiven. He caught himself in such strange thoughts
that it made him frightened."
Alexander liked and respected. Why, then, those torn-off arms and legs, those dead people? Then he remembered the rewarded Lazarev and Denisov punished and unforgiven. He caught himself in such strange thoughts
that it made him frightened."
"The officers, Rostov's comrades, like the greater part of the army, were displeased with the peace concluded after Friedland."
Rostov decides he is uninterested in listening to it, uninterested in remaining with doubts, and decides that no one can judge the emperor and that he must be right because he is the emperor. "We're not diplomatic officials,
we're soldiers and nothing more...We're old to die--and we die. If we're punished, it means we're guilty, it's not for us to judge...Next we'll be saying there's no God, no anything,"
we're soldiers and nothing more...We're old to die--and we die. If we're punished, it means we're guilty, it's not for us to judge...Next we'll be saying there's no God, no anything,"
Of course, everything is tied together with alcohol and being drunk. End of Part 2.
Characters (characters who do not appear, but are mentioned are placed in italics. First appearances are in Bold. First mentions are underlined. Final appearance denoted by *):
Emperor Alexander (also "sovereign" and "the Russian tsar")
Emperor Napoleon Bonaparte
Nikolai Rostof
Prince Kozlovsky
Lazaref (as in Dole. "Lazarev" in Briggs, Edmonds, and Dunnigan, and others.)
Boris
Zhilinsky
Denisof
(of course many undifferentiated soldiers and officers, including the two Rostov drinks with and lectures at the end of the chapter)
Abridged Versions: End of Part 2 in Mandelker, Dunnigan, Edmonds, and Briggs.
End of Part Five for Garnett. End of Part the Fifth in Wiener.
Chapter 24 in Bell and End of Part One.
Gibian: Chapter 18: end of Book Five.
Gibian: Chapter 18: end of Book Five.
Fuller: Entire Chapter is cut.
Komroff: Detail removal gets rid of a lot of then humor of the scene, such as Alexander and Kozlovsky trying to figure out who to bestow the honor on and Napoleon "magically" putting the cross on Lazaref. The last
episode of the chapter, with Rostov lecturing the officers, is removed, ending with his doubts. End of Part Five.
episode of the chapter, with Rostov lecturing the officers, is removed, ending with his doubts. End of Part Five.
Kropotkin: Entire chapter is cut.
Bromfield: See previous chapter.
Simmons: Chapter 18: The Lazarev episode is cut and replaced with "Napoleon publicly decorates a Russian soldier, Lazarev, with the Legion of Honor. After the ceremony the two emperors depart, and the Preobrazhensk
battalion and the French Guards sit down to a banquet together. End of Book Five.
Simmons: Chapter 18: The Lazarev episode is cut and replaced with "Napoleon publicly decorates a Russian soldier, Lazarev, with the Legion of Honor. After the ceremony the two emperors depart, and the Preobrazhensk
battalion and the French Guards sit down to a banquet together. End of Book Five.
Additional Notes: Maude: "the Preobrazhensk regiment was unable to return the hospitality to the French Guards in equal style, as they had no silver plate and, despite Alexander's readiness to pay highly for it, could
not obtain any."
not obtain any."
Troyat (324): Tolstoy found room for in his diary--there, he calls Napoleon a "poor rider," a "robber of painting and statues" who delights in strolling through battlefields, where he "thrills at
the sight of the corpses and wounded men." "He is not interesting, but the crowds around him are, those he affects. At the beginning, he is narrow-minded but fair, in comparison with
Murat and Barras; then groping, complacent and happy; and finally, insane: wanting to take the daughter of the Caesars into his bed. Total madness, senility and incompetence at St.
Helena. The false grandeur simply because the field of action was so great, but as soon as it began to shrink--incompetence. And a shameful death!"
Kaufman: Page 102: “he had been relegated in my mind to the status of “lowbrow.” Modeled on Tolstoy’s own father, a high-spirited, hot-tempered aristocrat of the old school, Nikolai is, as the author describes him in a notebook, “very good at saying the obvious.” Indeed, his last name in an early draft of the novel, Prostoy, or Simple, captures something of his unconvoluted relationship to life that seemed so foreign to me, and that irked some of Tolstoy’s more radical, “sophisticated” contemporaries to no end.”
Davidov: Page 53: "I cannot express how this news affected me! It was not that the notion of armistice and peace were repugnant to me. Indeed, the endless retreats, even after successes, the constant occupation and subsequent abandonment of positions considered impregnable and vacated the moment the enemy showed up, and the absence of offensive actions - all this drove me to despair. I was well aware of the glaring inequality of talent between Bennigsen and Napoleon, the disparity in numbers between our army and the enemy forces, the conviction among most of our soldiers that Napoleon was invincible. Then, too, there was the material chaos that plagued us after the defeat at Friedland, the lack of reserves, the enormous distance between ourselves and the militias still in the formative stage, and a host of other equally important circumstances. I recognized all this, but I dismissed it completely from my mind when I heard the casual words uttered by Sheping. I felt nothing but the shame of entering peace talks without avenging Friedland, and was quite beside myself with indignation, as if the duty of answering to our country for the grave wrongs to its glory and honour had fallen upon me alone...There were crowds of people there: Englishmen, Swedes, Prussians, French Royalists, Russian military and civil servants who knew nothing of either military or civil service, men of intrigue and without employment. It resembled a market-place for political and (Page 54) military speculators whose previous hopes and actions had already thrown them into bankruptcy....I looked around at the fashionable crowd that had gathered, reflecting that these were the very people who were recently so confident that Napoleon could be easily defeated. They were enough to ensure that my lips would remain sealed. With hangers-on such as these, how could we even think of continuing our struggle with the enemy? I had stumbled into the midst of what was to me a new world - people who lived under a real roof, never giving a thought to what might be happening on the battlefield. How different from the world I had left a couple of hours ago, where men spent their time under open skies, facing bullets and cannonballs, geared up for endless fighting."
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