Excerpt: The Blue Rose of Vitebsk

Seventy five miles to the south-east of the pontoon bridges lay Vilna where the imperial court of Alexander Pavlovich Romanov, Emperor and autocrat of all the Russias. While French troops crossed the Neimen the officers of the Russian headquarters were preparing to honour their emperor with a grand ball. General Bennigsen had volunteered his estate at Zakret and, just outside of Vilna, and for days now the perfectly manicured gardens had been being prepared for the event. Servants busied themselves with all of the finer details, under the watchful eyes of old Bennigsen himself who inspected everything and, upon finding anything wanting, never hesitated to order things to be done again to a higher standard.
Due to the house on the estate containing no ballroom it had been decided that the guests would dance in a covered gallery in the garden, built specifically for the purpose. Just a day previously, however, the gallery had collapsed while being inspected and the Tsar, unwilling to cancel such an event and show any fear of the impending war, announced that the ball would not be postponed and that they would dance in the open air.
The grounds at the Zakret estate were renowned for their landscaped beauty with fountains, lakes and waterfalls and, in June, lusciously green grass on the spacious lawns. The garden was filled with the scent of the linden trees in full bloom and many of them were hung with decorative lanterns.
In the early evening light the guests started to arrive; generals and other officers from headquarters, aides to the emperor, and dignitaries from both the local area and Petersburg. The fading light and the luminescent glow of the lanterns gave the event a beauty worthy of its honoured guests. The orchestra played a fine variety of dances and the guests floated elegantly around the lawn in a dazzling variety of colours, the vivid hues of officers uniforms mixing with the ladies in the latest of fashions and the civilian gentleman in their long dark coats.
Alexander himself danced with the Countess de Choiseul-Gouffier and then mingled seemingly effortlessly in the crowd, drifting between guests and talking cheerfully as though there were no fears nor cares in the world. An atmosphere of gaiety permeated the whole proceedings and thanks to the Tsar's relaxed and charming presence no mention was made of the hostile clouds of war that hung so ominously over the horizon.
It was late in the evening and the guests were moving inside the house to be seated for supper when General Balashov approached wearing a dark blue officers tunic with peaked red collars and gold epaulettes.
“Your Majesty, may we speak privately for one moment.”
Alexander nodded his assent and the two strolled out into the breeze of the garden which was now deserted by all but certain of the house staff.
“It has begun, your Majesty. I have just received a messenger from the border; Bonaparte has crossed the Neimen and is even now expected to be marching on Kaunas. Our scouts report the whole of the grand army is making its way into Russia.”
The Tsar stood silent for a moment and then took the General by the arm and walked down the lawn through the colonnade of lindens.
“The reports are confirmed?” he asked.
“Yes, your Majesty. A Cossack patrol made contact in the early hours of this morning.”
“What skulduggery! The fox negotiates with one hand while striking with the other. We shall make him regret this action, Alexander Dmitriyevich, we have no option but to drive him from our lands at the tip of the sword.”
“What action should be taken, should I send a messenger to General de Tolly?”
“For the moment, General, we have a ball to finish. I don't wish the guests to know that the hour of crisis is upon us, let them first enjoy their supper. You may inform the other guests after my departure. I will return to Vilna and I will summon you when you're needed further.
“As you wish, your Majesty,” replied the General.
“Now Sir,” said the Tsar with a forced smile, touching the General on the elbow and turning towards the house, “let us see if our host's hospitality can live up to his Hanoverian bluster!” And with that the pair returned to the house.
The supper was followed by a final dance of the mazurka before the guests gathered on the south lawn for a fireworks display. They watched as each of the meticulously planned fireworks flickered up and burst in the moonlit sky before fading away.
After the last of the fireworks had traced its sparkling trail across the sky Alexander sighed quietly and summoned his carriage to return him to Vilna. General Balashov waited only moments before informing the generals who were present and word spread rapidly through the guests. The festivities were most definitely over.