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AFTER ALL NAPOLEON had said to him, after those outbursts of wrath, and after
the last frigidly uttered words, “I will not detain you, general; you shall
receive my letter,” Balashov felt certain that Napoleon would not care to see
him again, would avoid indeed seeing again the envoy who had been treated by him
with contumely, and had been the eyewitness of his undignified outburst of fury.
But to his surprise Balashov received through Duroc an invitation to dine that
day at the Emperor's table.
There were present at dinner, Bessières, Caulaincourt, and Berthier.
Napoleon met Balashov with a good-humoured and friendly air. He had not the
slightest appearance of embarrassment or regret for his outbreak in the morning.
On the contrary he seemed trying to encourage Balashov. It was evident that it
had long been Napoleon's conviction that no possibility existed of his making
mistakes. To his mind all he did was good, not because it was in harmony with
any preconceived notion of good or bad, but simply because it was he who
did it.
The Emperor was in excellent spirits after his ride about Vilna, greeted and
followed with acclamations by crowds of the inhabitants. From every window in
the streets through which he had passed draperies and flags with his monogram
had been hanging, and Polish ladies had been waving handkerchiefs to welcome
him.
At dinner he sat Balashov beside him, and addressed him affably. He addressed
him indeed as though he regarded Balashov as one of his own courtiers, as one of
the people, who would sympathise with his plans and be sure to rejoice at his
successes. He talked, among other things, of Moscow, and began asking Balashov
questions about the ancient Russian capital, not simply as a traveller of
inquiring mind asks about a new place he intends to visit, but apparently with
the conviction that Balashov as a Russian must be flattered at his interest in
it.
“How many inhabitants are there in Moscow, how many horses? Is it true that
Moscow is called the holy city? How many churches are there in Moscow?” he
asked.
And when he was told there were over two hundred churches, he said: “Why is
there such a great number of churches?”
“The Russians are very religious,” replied Balashov.
“A great number, however, of monasteries and churches is always a sign of the
backwardness of a people,” said Napoleon, looking at Caulaincourt for
appreciation of this remark.
Balashov ventured respectfully to differ from the opinion of the French
Emperor.
“Every country has its customs,” he observed.
“But there's nothing like that anywhere else in Europe,” said Napoleon.
“I beg your majesty's pardon,” said Balashov; “besides Russia, there is
Spain, where there is also a great number of churches and monasteries.”
This reply of Balashov's, which suggested a covert allusion to the recent
discomfiture of the French in Spain, was highly appreciated when Balashov
repeated it at the court of the Emperor Alexander, though at the time at
Napoleon's dinner-table it was very little appreciated and passed indeed
unnoticed.
From the indifferent and perplexed faces of the marshals present it was
obvious that they were puzzled to discover wherein lay the point of the retort,
suggested by Balashov's intonation. “If there were a point, we fail to catch it,
or the remark was perhaps really pointless,” their expression seemed to say. So
little effect had this retort that Napoleon indeed certainly saw nothing in it;
and he naïvely asked Balashov through what towns the direct road from Vilna to
Moscow passed. Balashov, who had been all dinner-time on his guard, replied that
as, according to the proverb, every road leads to Rome, every road leads to
Moscow; that there were very many roads, and among them was the road to
Poltava, the one selected by Charles XII. Balashov could not help
flushing with delight at the felicity of this reply. Balashov had hardly uttered
the last word “Poltava” when Caulaincourt began talking of the badness of the
road from Petersburg to Moscow and his own Petersburg reminiscences.
After dinner they went to drink coffee in Napoleon's study, which had four
days before been the study of the Emperor Alexander. Napoleon sat down, stirring
his coffee in a Sèvres cup, and motioned Balashov to a seat beside him.
There is a well-known after-dinner mood which is more potent than any
rational consideration in making a man satisfied with himself and disposed to
regard every one as a friend. Napoleon was under the influence of this mood. He
fancied himself surrounded by persons who adored him. He felt no doubt that
Balashov too after his dinner was his friend and his worshipper. Napoleon
addressed him with an amicable and rather ironical smile.
“This is the very room, I am told, in which the Emperor Alexander used to
sit. Strange, isn't it, general?” he said, obviously without the slightest
misgiving that this remark could be other than agreeable to the Russian, since
it afforded a proof of his, Napoleon's, superiority over Alexander.
Balashov could make no reply to this, and he bowed in silence.
“Yes, four days ago, Wintzengerode and Stein were deliberating in this very
room,” Napoleon continued, with the same confident and ironical smile. “What I
can't understand,” he said, “is the Emperor Alexander's gathering round him all
my personal enemies. That I do not understand. Didn't he consider that I might
do the same?” he asked Balashov; and obviously the question brought him back to
a reminiscence of the morning's anger, which was still fresh in him. “And let
him know that I will do so,” Napoleon said, getting up and pushing away his cup.
“I'll drive all his kith and kin out of Germany—the Würtembergs and Badens and
Weimars…Yes, I'll drive them out. Let him get a refuge ready for them in
Russia.”
Balashov bowed his head, with an air that indicated that he would be glad to
withdraw, and was simply listening because he had no alternative but to listen
to what was said to him. Napoleon did not notice this expression. He was
addressing Balashov now, not as the envoy of his enemy, but as a man now quite
devoted to him and certain to rejoice at the humiliation of his former
master.
“And why has the Emperor Alexander taken the command of his troops? What's
that for? War is my profession, but his work is to reign and not to command
armies. What has induced him to take such a responsibility on himself?”
Napoleon again took his snuff-box, walked several times in silence up and
down the room, and all at once surprised Balashov by coming close up to him. And
with a faint smile, as confidently, rapidly, and swiftly, as though he were
doing something that Balashov could not but regard as an honour and a pleasure,
he put his hand up to the face of the Russian general of forty, and gave him a
little pinch on the ear with a smile on his lips.
To have the ear pulled by the Emperor was regarded as the greatest honour and
mark of favour at the French court.
“Well, you say nothing, admirer and courtier of the Emperor Alexander,” he
said, as though it were comic that there should be in his presence a courtier
and worshipper of any man other than him, Napoleon. “Are the horses ready for
the general?” he added, with a slight nod in acknowledgment of Balashov's bow.
“Give him mine; he has a long way to go.…”
The letter taken back by Balashov was Napoleon's last letter to Alexander.
Every detail of the conversation was transmitted to the Russian Emperor, and the
war began.
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