Monsieur Pierre (20; all ages as of the start of the book), afterwards Count Pyotr Kirílych Bezúkhov. The Count’s illegitimate son, educated abroad, and easily led both into dissipation and into idealistic theories of life.
Katerína Semënovna Mámontova; Kátish, Catiche, “eldest princess.” The eldest of Kiríl Vladímirovich’s three nieces and expected beneficiaries of his will.
The Bolkónskis
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Prince Nikoláy Andréevich Bolkónski. A harsh martinet, full of old-time prejudices, living a bitter, lonely life at his estate of Bald Hills.
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Prince Andréy Nikoláevich Bolkónski (27); Andrúsha, André. Son of Nikoláy Andrévich, adjutant to General Kutúzov.
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Princess Lizavéta Bolkónskaya (née Mienen); Lise, Liza, “little princess.” Andréy Nikoláevich’s wife.
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Prince Nikoláy Andréevich Bolkónski; Nikolúshka, Koko, Nikólenka. Andréy and Lizavéta’s son.
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Princess Márya Nikoláevna Bolkónskaya; Másha, Máshka, Marie.
The Drubetskóys
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Prince Borís Drubetskóy; Borénka. A relation of the Rostóvs; cold, calculating, and selfish, and through influence is rapidly advanced.
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Princess Anna Mikháylovna Drubetskáya. Poor but intriguing; Borís’ mother.
The Kurágins
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Prince Vasíli Sergéevich Kurágin (“near 60”); Basile. Close relative of Count Kiríl Bezúkhov.
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Prince Ippolit Kurágin; Hippolyte. Vasíli Sergéevich’s older son; in the diplomatic service, but dissipated and foolish.
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Prince Anatole Kurágin. Vasíli Sergéevich’s younger son; a debauched spendthrift.
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Princess Elèna Vasílievna Kurágina; Elèn, Hélène. Vasíli Sergéevich’s daughter.
The Rostóvs
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Count Ilyá Andréevich Rostóv. A wealthy but extravagant proprietor whose affairs go from bad to worse.
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Countess Natálya Rostóva (née Shinshiná), his wife.
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Count Nikoláy Ilyítch Rostóv (20); Nikolúshka, Nikólenka, Nicolas. Ilyá Andréevich’s eldest son, openhearted, gallant, generous; serving in the hussars (cavalry).
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Count Pyotr Ilýnich Rostóv (9); Pétya. Ilyá Andréevich’s youngest son.
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Countess Véra Rostóva (19). Ilyá Andréevich’s oldest daughter; later married to Alphonse Berg.
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Countess Natálya Ilyníchna Rostóva (13); Natásha, Natáli, Nathalie. Ilyá Andréevich’s youngest daughter.
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Sófya Alexándrovna (15); Sónya, Sonyúshka; Sophie. Ilyá Andréevich’s orphan niece who lives with them.
Others
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Márya Dmítrievna Akhrosímova. The godmother to Natálya Rostóva, known as le terrible dragon.
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Osip Alexéevich Bazdéev. The Freemason, Pierre’s “Benefactor.”
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Alphonse Kárlovich Berg. A conceited young officer.
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Vasíli Dmítrich Denísov; Váska, Vasíli Fëdorovich. A gallant soldier and poet.
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Fëdor Iványch Dólokhov (25); Fédya. A gambler and roué, brave but bad.
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Márya Ivánovna Dólokhova. The mother of Fëdor Iványch.
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Julie Karágina (21). A friend of the Rostóv daughters.
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Mikháil Ivánovich. Prince Nikoláy Bolkónski’s live-in architect.
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General Mikháil Ilariónovich Kutúzov. The real-life commander-in-chief of the Russian army during Napoleon’s invasion.
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Anna Pávlovna Schérer (40). A well-known Petersburg socialite, maid-of-honour to and favorite of the dowager empress Márya Fëderovna.
War and Peace
Book I
Part I
1805
I
“Well, Prince, so Genoa and Lucca are now just family estates of the Buonapartes. But I warn you, if you don’t tell me that this means war, if you still try to defend the infamies and horrors perpetrated by that Antichrist—I really believe he is Antichrist—I will have nothing more to do with you and you are no longer my friend, no longer my ‘faithful slave,’ as you call yourself! But how do you do? I see I have frightened you—sit down and tell me all the news.”
It was in July, 1805, and the speaker was the well-known Anna Pávlovna Schérer, maid of honor and favorite of the Empress Márya Fëdorovna. With these words she greeted Prince Vasíli Kurágin, a man of high rank and importance, who was the first to arrive at her reception. Anna Pávlovna had had a cough for some days. She was, as she said, suffering from la grippe; grippe being then a new word in St. Petersburg, used only by the elite.
All her invitations without exception, written in French, and delivered by a scarlet-liveried footman that morning, ran as follows:
“If you have nothing better to do, Count (or Prince), and if the prospect of spending an evening with a poor invalid is not too terrible, I shall be very charmed to see you tonight between 7 and 10—Annette Schérer.”
“Heavens! what a virulent attack!” replied the prince, not in the least disconcerted by this reception. He had just entered, wearing an embroidered court uniform, knee breeches, and shoes, and had stars on his breast and a serene expression on his flat face. He spoke in that refined French in which our grandfathers not only spoke but thought, and with the gentle, patronizing intonation natural to a man of importance who had grown old in society and at court. He went up to Anna Pávlovna, kissed her hand, presenting to her his bald, scented, and shining head, and complacently seated himself on the sofa.
“First of all, dear friend, tell me how you are. Set your friend’s mind at rest,” said he without altering his tone, beneath the politeness and affected sympathy of which indifference and even irony could be discerned.
“Can one be well while suffering morally? Can one be calm in times like these if one has any feeling?” said Anna Pávlovna. “You are staying the whole evening, I hope?”
“And the fête at the English ambassador’s? Today is Wednesday. I must put in an appearance there,” said the prince. “My daughter is coming for me to take me there.”
“I thought today’s fête had been canceled. I confess all these festivities and fireworks are becoming wearisome.”
“If they had known that you wished it, the entertainment would have been put off,” said the prince, who, like a wound-up clock, by force of habit said things he did not even wish to be believed.
“Don’t tease! Well, and what has been decided about Novosíltsev’s dispatch? You know everything.”
“What can one say about it?” replied the prince in a cold, listless tone. “What has been decided? They have decided that Buonaparte has burnt his boats, and I believe that we are ready to burn ours.”
Prince Vasíli always spoke languidly, like an actor repeating a stale part. Anna Pávlovna Schérer on the contrary, despite her forty years, overflowed with animation and impulsiveness. To be an enthusiast had become her social vocation and, sometimes even when she did not feel like it, she became enthusiastic in order not to disappoint the expectations of those who knew
