The doomed advance commenced around 5 a.m., when still quite dark. The idea was for General Bagration’s left flank to initiate the attack on the French right flank and drive the enemy into the mountains. Officers were hurriedly drinking tea and eating a decent breakfast while buttoning their coats and buckling their swords. Battalion and regimental commanders, along with their adjuncts, mounted their horses and gave final instructions. Austrian guides were now moving among the troops and heralding the advance. Those who would be moving were anxious amidst the cold and mist. The soldiers had been eating their rations, which consisted of a biscuit, while some beat their feet (while sitting around fires) to a tolerable warmth. The allied army reached a critical point, to either keep what they had or destroy it. Thus, into the fires went chairs, tables, wheels and everything that was not needed or could not be carried. The men then hoisted their bags onto carts, readied their muskets, and ran to form rank. There were a lot of non-combatant equipment men and logistics people who harnessed and packed the wagons. Soon the tramp of thousands of marching feet resounded. The throng moved without seeing where they were headed, as great masses of familiar men were surrounded by smoke and fog. For most, their senses heightened and they listened intently and looked about, each strengthened by their numbers. The columns thus advanced, descending and ascending hills, going over new and unknown ground. Nowhere did they encounter the French. The troops marched with enthusiasm for about an hour before the greater part had to halt and an unpleasant consciousness of some blunder spread. Tolstoy notes how such a mindset moves through such a body so rapidly is impossible to define. It was understood that large units were crossing one other. For example, in one area, several thousand cavalry crossed in front of the infantry. In contrast to the jovial spirit with which the troops had started, they were now filled with vexation and anger. The disorder was attributed to “those stupid Germans,” often called “sausage-eaters.” There were even visible altercations between some Austrian and Russian leaders. While stationary, the troops grew listless and dispirited. After this inauspicious development that lasted the better part of an hour, some soldiers started to hear shots. It was beyond the fog and irregular but then came at more frequent intervals. A small contingent who expected to come upon the enemy down by a stream stumbled upon the French in the fog. Similar interactions, of advancing and halting and exchanging uneven shots with the enemy, played out among the first, second and third columns in the lowlands, amidst thick fog. The 4th column, which Kutuzov was with, stood on the Infamous Pratzen Heights. On this higher ground, much of the field was becoming observable as the day developed and sun rose. High up in the village of Schlappanitz –the Great Napoleon stood with his marshals, observing the field and the Pratzen Heights. He was basking in the crimson sun that was rising in a striking blue sky. He donned the famous blue cloak he wore on his Italian campaign, sitting on his gray Arab horse. He gazed at the hills which seemed to rise out of the sea of mist and on which his adversaries were moving, listening to the sounds of firing. He is imbued by as already having the air of having victory. One part of the Russian forces already descended into a valley toward the ponds and lakes and another were leaving the Pratzen Heights, which Napolean abandoned before the battle but intended to retake and regarded as the key position. Napoleon plainly noticed the disorderly movement of his enemy and that the columns moving near The Pratzen Heights constituted the center of the Russian army, which was sufficiently weakened to be successfully attacked.

In the early morning hours of December 2nd, 1805, Rostov was patrolling the skirmishing line near Bagration’s detachment. Behind him he could see his army’s campfires glowing. In front the French were covered by misty darkness. Rostov was exhausted. His eyes would close and his fancy appeared—now the Emperor, then Denísov or whirling Moscow memories. His hussar companion occasionally alerted him to steer his horse out of bushes. He was disappointed his unit was not advancing and wanted to ask for permission to join the attack. He was dreaming about The Czar, envisioning how they would have a chance encounter and he would receive an assignment. He was confident he would do a superb job and develop a relationship with the sovereign. How faithfully he would guard Alexander, tell him the truth and unmask any deceivers! Rostov pictured how he would humiliate and kill an enemy of the state, either a Frenchman or a deceitful German ally, all in the presence of Alexander. Suddenly, a distant shout aroused him. He opened his eyes but only noticed the surrounding hills and white patches of snow. His mind veered toward his sister, who he wished to tell of his acquaintance with the Czar. Soon enough, there noticeable sounds in the distance. It appeared to be commotion from a group. He noticed fires igniting all along the landscape. The shouting grew louder. He was near one of the main French camps. Rostov could hear French spoken but not the words. The voices merged into a roar only an army could produce. The lights spread and he heard the triumphant shouting of the enemy – the famous, “Vive l’Empereur! Vive l’Empereur!” He was witnessing inspired men, more genuine than anything in Rostov’s camp. The spectacle was so obvious that it attracted Generals Bagration and Dulgarukov. The latter suggested it was just a decoy. Dulgarukov felt the main force retreated but Bagration realized his adversary was a force to be reckoned with and directed Rostov and a few others to investigate. Rostov was frightened but thrilled to propel into danger. Bagration called out for the group to not go beyond a certain stream. Rostov pretended not to hear the order. The French voices grew closer and soon enough there was shooting. The Hussars presence may have been noticed but it also could have been excited French firing into the air. Rostov’s group retreated back to Bagration. Rostov reported that the French presence was consistent with previous scouting. Bagration thanked Rostov, who leaped at the opportunity to ask to join a squadron that would advance. Bagration allows Rostov to join his own unit, sensing he is meeting Ilya Rostov’s son. Rostov thanks the Lord and felt he was a step closer to becoming involved with the Emperor. Tolstoy, as Narrator, lets us in on what was happening among the French. There was celebration because Napoleon was riding and sometimes walking through the camps while his written orders were being read. This would cause the fires, as soldiers would light wisps of straw and run after him; and others would fire guns into the air. Further, the soldiers knew the critical battle would be fought on the anniversary of Napoleon's coronation, just a year prior at Notre Dame. This was considered a good omen. Tolstoy conveys Napoleon’s inspirational and historic message. It includes: Soldiers! I direct all your battalions. I will keep out of fire if you -- with your habitual valor carry disorder and confusion into the enemy’s ranks -- but should victory be in doubt, even for a moment, you will see your Emperor exposing himself to the first blows of the enemy, for there must be no doubt of victory, especially on this day when the honour of the French infantry is at stake, so necessary to the honour of our nation.

In a few chapters, you will read one of the triumphs in literature, borrowed from the Wisdom Literature of the Old Testament. Tolstoy will have the fictional Andrei recognize the Vanity of our world. On the battlefield, Andrei is placed in a posture that makes him attuned to absorbing the nature of war & peace; and much more. In preparation for this moment, I ask you to take a tiny step toward developing the ability to see behind the vanity & vexation of our existence. If inclined, read the beginning of Ecclesiastes – as Andrei will paraphrase this material while speaking to the meaningless and futility of not seeing beyond the issues of the day. Conceding most will never going to do that… the critical and initial part of Ecclesiastes 1 reads: Vanity of vanities, saith the Preacher (often identified as Solomon); All is vanity. What profit hath a man of all his labour, which he taketh under the sun? Then Scripture references then unrelenting cycles of nature -- One generation passeth away, and another cometh: but the earth abideth; The sun also ariseth, and the sun goeth down, and hasteneth to his place where it arose. The wind goeth toward the south, and turneth about unto the north; it whirleth about continually, and returneth again according to his circuits. All the rivers run into the sea, yet the sea is not full; unto the place from where the rivers come, thither they return again. War & Peace is an everlasting work, in part, by reason of Tolstoy’s influence from Scripture. Within this vein, Tolstoy has been able to capture the artist’s ability to see beyond and touch the Transcendent! Tolstoy was able to skillfully -- not to just look to the baseness of what is in front, or below us, in creating something entertaining -- but he is able to enter the sacred space of fulfilling the spiritual need of appreciating the infiniteness above. So, this chapter is a reminder open yourself to this dynamic. For you ALL have Your own wars and periods of peace. Therefore, take a moment, to recognize what is here and now is not as significant as it seems, whether it is the Battle at Austerlitz or the so-call grand historical events of Your life. All of that is microscopic compared to what is above. If you are not interested in wrestling with the Bible, you can at least, take a look up to the sky and concentrate for a few seconds. This simple exercise gives us a sense of our size and the ineffability of what we are taking in. Consider our quarrels and even the wars men are so-often thrown into and what really mean in the grand sense. The exercise will build and appreciation for a pivotal moment in the book and more importantly, life in general. You will catch this moment soon, if you don’t know it already, on the fields of Austerlitz. Moreover, most readers fail realize something rather obvious, that the title and phrase War & Peace appears in the famous poetry of Chapter 3 of Ecclesiastes, where the Scripture notes that there is a Time for every purpose under Heaven, including a time for War; and a Time of Peace.

The night before the Battle, General Weyrother, who coordinated the advance, traveled to Kutuzov’s quarters in a castle near Austerlitz for a council of war. Kutuzov was a reluctant and relegated host. Weyrother is presented as full of vigor while Kutuzov was morose, with his uniform unbuttoned and nearly asleep in a chair. Weyrother was familiar with the terrain but was unable to competently explain the nature of this Moravian land. He spoke in front of an enormous map and went through the battle-plan. It involved a flanking maneuver and pursuit over a forest as well as descriptions of how the columns would march. He was exhausted and lost all sense of deference to the other attendees. Kutuzov’s response was to snore – at one point waking up startled and giving a condescending “YES! YES!,” and nodding off again. Tolstoy then symbolizes how some high-level officers are said to have reacted at the historic encounter. Friedrich Wilhelm Graf von Buxhöwden, hardly paid attention. Like many of the Russian officer class, his name had German roots. Mikhail Miloradovich “with wide-open eyes and a mustache twisted upwards,” sat in a military posture remaining silent. Unimpressed, he complained to himself but loud enough to be heard, “A geography lesson!?” Dimitry Dohktúrov, a small and modest man was studying the unfamiliar localities on the map and found the plan confusing. There was also Count Louis Langeron, a French émigré, who gazed at his delicate fingers twirling a gold snuffbox. He tried to contribute his own ideas but was rebuffed. A prominent Polish official, Ignacy Przebyszéwski, was described as carrying a dignified politeness. Thus, the command was an eclectic mix of ethnic Germans, aristocratic Russians, a Frenchman and even a Pole. Late in the council, Langeron finally got a chance to convey how difficult it would be to carry out such a strategy since the enemy’s position was only assumed and Bonaparte might attack and render the plan worthless. Tolstoy expresses that those spoken down to could have advised Weyrother about military matters. It is a hindsight presentation of a doomed mission. Historically, Weyrother would not have been spearheading the effort if Gen. Johann Schmit had not been killed. Weyrother met all objections with contempt, finding it ridiculous to debate a disposition approved by the Emperors. He felt the only thing to fear was the French retreating. He noted: “If Napolean could attack us, he would have done so today.” When Weyrother is nearly finished, Tolstoy brings in the fictional Andrei to get into the mindset of the noble officer who faces such an affair. Andrei asks for a clarification but Weyrother cuts him off with “Gentlemen, the dispositions for tomorrow—or rather for today, for it is past midnight—cannot be altered. You have heard them and we shall all do our duty. Before a battle, there is nothing more important than to have a good sleep.” Andrei could sense that nobody was inspired by the talk. He wondered how Alexander was not influenced by Kutuzov’s reticence. He realized all their lives were placed at needless risk. He considers, “It is very likely that I shall be killed tomorrow” and a series of memories arose. Andrei remembered parting from his father and dwelled on his wife and her pregnancy. In a softened mood he went out into the early December night. “Tomorrow everything may be over for me and these memories will be no more.” He became certain he would be called to account as a soldier and man. He pictured the battle in light of the sober analysis from Kutuzov. He imagined having the opportunity to firmly express his opinion of the futility of the present course to Kutuzov, Weyrother and the Emperors. While they would be impressed, no one would listen to him. He visualizes the forthcoming hesitation. He senses that his Toulon (the famous battle that catapulted Napoleon’s career) will present itself and envisions taking a regiment and leading it victory. He even pictures Kutuzov being removed appointed in the Commander’s place! However, another voice suggesting he would be wounded or killed. He considered, “I don’t know what will happen, but admits he desires Glory -- to be known to men and loved by them.” He finds no Fault that earthly glory is all that he lives for! In pursuit of such esteem, he fears nothing, neither his own death nor the loss of his family. Though his family is precious, he has psyched himself up to point that he would trade them all for just a moment of that glory.

This chapter continues to examine the precipice of Austerlitz, where misguided confidence continues to build. Yet we can observe cracks in that veneer, namely relating to how Tolstoy portrays the Czar. As the Emperor occupied Wischau, his French physician was summoned. While Alexander was initially excited by the movement of the troops, calvary charges, and clashes, he became ill upon observing casualties and the reality of war. Ten days prior, while in Olmütz, French General Anne-Jean-Marie-René-Savary, requested and received an audience with the Czar. Savary quickly noticed the overconfidence of Alexander’s inexperienced advisers and that Kutuzov (who advocated patience) was sidelined. Alexander explained to Savary how it was Napoleon’s ambition that brought them all to the precipice of slaughter. This was where Savary was presented with the infamous letter addressed “to the head of the French Government.” Ultimately, the allied army left in five large columns, toward Austerlitz, around 11/17/1805. In this section, Tolstoy focuses on Savory being sent to the Czar a second time in an 11th hour attempt to negotiate when near the battlefield. Alexander read this outreach as weakness. Savary was admitted, but Alexander refused a proposal to meet directly with Napoleon. The Czar’s army was overjoyed upon learning of this notable rejection. Instead, Prince Dolgorúkov was sent to meet Napoleon. Tolstoy doesn’t mention this here, but Napoleon keenly set up his camp to show Dolgorúkov miserable surroundings and dispirited men. Dolgorúkov told Napoleon that for peace, he must withdraw from Belgium, Holland, Switzerland, & Lombardy. Napoleon announced in reply: “Then we must fight.” Dolgorúkov later assured the Czar that the French were ripe to be vanquished. The day before the Battle, there a bustling of activity, which lead to 80,000 men being stretched out over six miles, ready to advance. Information would have to travel along that chain, which would prove a challenge. Tolstoy poetically explains how like the working of an intricate clock, decisions have results. He speaks of wheels interlocking and gathering momentum based on an initial push from the Emperor’s headquarters. "One wheel slowly moved and another was set in motion, and then third, and then wheels began to revolve faster and faster, levers and cogwheels, chimes to play, figures pop out, and the hands advance with regular motion. Just as with clock, so it is with a military machine…" The result was 160,000 men — all their passions, desires, remorse, humiliations, sufferings, outbursts of pride, fear, and enthusiasm — ready to embark on the Battle of Three Emperors. The story turns to the fictional Andrei, who was in constant attendance of those who made the critical decisions relating to Austerlitz. Andrei became aware how Kutuzov was dissatisfied – as most at headquarters were dismissive of him. Dolgorúkov relays his impression of Napoleon, namely that the General was afraid of a battle and that his hour had come! Dolgorúkov finds Napoleon vain and superficial: “He is a man in a gray overcoat, very anxious that I should call him ‘Your Majesty,’ but who, to his chagrin, got no title from me!” He continues: “We mustn’t forget Suvórov and his rule—not to put yourself in a position to be attacked, but yourself to attack. Believe me in war the energy of young men often shows the way better than all the experience than the old procrastinators” Dolgorúkov went on to explain the battle plan, a flanking attack formulated by Austrian General Weyrother. Andrei offered one of his own, but was shut down and told to bring up any such suggestions at the next council. Bilibin, the fictional diplomat, enters this dynamic. He proffers how no Russian officers are involved in spearheading the advance, and the three discuss who is said to be leading the units. After a long and frenetic day, Andrei gets a quiet moment with Kutuzov and asks him what he thinks will come of the upcoming battle: Kutúzov looked sternly at his adjutant and, after a pause, replied: "I think the battle will be lost, and so I told Count Tolstoy and asked him to tell the Emperor. What do you think he rep

On the precipice of the Battle of Austerlitz, Tolstoy illustrates the bravado and immaturity of youth. Here, I explore how Tolstoy incorporates elements of his own vice from his younger days, including pride and ambition. Both his early and late material speak to this, most notably personal journals from his time at university as well as the spiritual work, My Confession, written in 1879, when in his early 50s. The latter was an attempt to grapple with eternal questions such as: What am I doing?, and Why am I here? Tolstoy pursues answers in the mold of how Solomon (or “the Preacher”) is presented as taking them on in Ecclesiastes. Tolstoy appears to have reached the conclusion that those outside his social class (most notably humble peasants) have a higher chance of living in virtue and connecting with the Almighty. He implicitly argues for a reversion to a more simple Faith based on the Teachings of Christ. Early in Confession, Tolstoy famously wrote: I cannot think of those years without horror….. I killed men in war and challenged men to duels…. I lost at cards, consumed the labor of the peasants, sentenced them to punishments, lived loosely and deceived people. Lying, robbery, adultery of all kinds, drunkenness, violence, murder -- there was no crime I did not commit, and in spite of that people praised my conduct and my contemporaries considered and consider me to be a comparatively moral man. He could barely imagine such depravity among the peasant class. Tolstoy also references his early skepticism of the Russian Orthodox Church, especially as to rituals and teachings found outside the Gospel, such as certain prayers and the veneration of saints. He reflects that his “false faith” became trying to become the perfect earthly man and he rigorously tried to formulate methods to achieve success. Some of Tolstoy’s suggestions, taken from his journals, are: never hesitate to speak before onlookers; lead the conversation and speak deliberately; do not constantly move from conversation to conversation or language or language; seek the company of High Society; and invite the most important ladies – as that will be the event to be at! An aunt who helped raise him strongly suggested that he have relations with a married woman of the highest status – as she believed nothing so fully formed a young man. She also wanted him to become an aide-de-camp, if possible to the Emperor. She further advised to marry into extreme wealth and become possessed of as many serfs as possible. Tolstoy’s journals continue in a self-help fashion, suggesting: do not put off what you set out to do; make an effort and the thoughts and ideas of how to achieve goals will come; write down your plan and do not get up from the table until you make sufficient progress. Tolstoy also set regimented schedules for himself: 9-10 a.m.: Bathe and exercise, 10-12 a.m,: Music, play a least four pages of sheets, all scales and chords; 6-8 p.m.: Attend to his studies; 8-10 p.m.: Estate management. His time at the University of Kazan was an intense period of self-observation and served as a preparatory stage, filled with experimentation and vice, for where he wound up. Ultimately, Tolstoy came to realize his aristocratic peers developed this heightened arrogance, believing they are in the best position guide their fellow man. The rejection of such self-perfection efforts was significant to Tolstoy developing into an elderly sage, where pilgrimages were made to his estate. It is manifestly important to consider how Tolstoy embraces General Kutuzov as Napoleon’s opposite - as more Godly and attuned to the unknowable nature of life. This symbolic depiction made the old general a national hero. This episode finishes by examining how the sinful ambitions he very much shared are fused into the characters of Napoleon, Boris, Berg, Anatole, Vasilly, Andrei, Pierre and Nicholas.

Three days after the review and a near 40 mile march south, Denisov’s squadron was assigned to be a reserve unit in the early stages of the monumental Battle of Austerlitz. Rostov was in something of a depression, as he wasted the inner struggle it took to conquer his apprehension. While idle, he observed squadrons of Cossacks, hussars, infantry and artillery pass. Around 9 a.m., he heard firing and shouts. Later, a handful of French prisoners were brought back. A successful small affair culminated and the Village of Wishau was taken, building false confidence. The morning glitter of the sun was in keeping with news of the victory. Denisov tried to cheer up Rostov, “Come here. Let’s dwink to dwown our gwief!” A fellow Hussar soon noticed: “There! They are bringing another!,” pointing to a captive French dragoon along with his horse. Denisov was able to buy the horse for two gold pieces with money from Rostov. The prisoner was from Alsace, a Rhine border area heavily influenced by German speakers. The Hussars realized their prisoner brought aspects of culture so alien to them. Such contacts and influences would have profound impact on the progression of history. The day takes a dramatic upon shouts of “The Emperor! The Emperor!” as The Imperial Guard was spotted. All regret at not getting into action vanished and Rostov mounted his horse with joy. Nearer to him came that human sun and Rostov felt enveloped in his rays. Rostov again heard Alexander’s voice, so kindly and calm, inquiring if he was passing “The Pavlograd Hussars.” The Emperor drew level with Rostov and halted. Alexander’s face shone with gaiety and youth. Rostov believed the Emperor’s light blue eyes met his but could only hope Alexander understood what was within his soul. The Czar soon signaled his horse and galloped away. Tolstoy describes how Alexander could not resist being present and was thrilled by news of the successful engagement. The battle was represented as a brilliant victory, however, there was a mistaken belief that a solid portion of the French were retreating. The Pavlograds were ordered to advance to Wischau -- described as a quant German town. Rostov saw the Emperor for a third time, here at a market place where there had been heavy firing and lay several killed and wounded. The Emperor was riding a mare and leaning while holding at some magnifying glasses (a lorgnette). He gazed at a bleeding soldier who was so revolting that his proximity to royalty bothered Rostov. An adjutant lifted the soldier to place him on a stretcher, causing the soldier to groan. The Czar, so enthusiastic to put men in peril, instructed: “Gently, gently! Can’t you do it more gently?” Soon enough he rode away. Rostov saw tears filling the Emperor’s eyes and heard him say to his close advisor, Adam Czartorýski: “What a terrible thing war! Quelle terrible chose que la guerre!” Soon enough, the Pavlograd Hussars were stationed before Wischau. The Emperor’s gratitude was announced, rewards were promised and the men received a double ration of vodka. The campfires crackled and soldiers’ songs resounded. Denisov celebrated a promotion to the rank of major, and Rostov, quite inebriated, proposed a toast. To the “the health of our Sovereign, that good, enchanting and great man! Let us drink to his health and to the certain defeat of the French! If we fought before, not letting the French pass at Schön Grabern, what shall we not do now when he is at the front? We will all die for him gladly! Is it not so? Perhaps I am not saying it right, I have drunk a good deal—but that is how I feel, and so do you! To the health of Alexander the First!" Hurrah! Hurrah!” responded the Hussars. Even the old cavalry captain, Kirsten, shouted no less sincerely. Later that night, Denisov patted Rostov and announced: “As there’s no one to fall in love with on campaign, he’s fallen in love with the Czar!.” Rostov told Denisov not to belittle his emotions and walked off to wander among the campfires, dreaming of what happiness it would be to die—not in saving the Emperor’s life but simply to die before his eyes. He was in love with the Czar and the hope of future triumph. He was hardly the only one to experience such pathos in those memorable moments preceding the true affair at Austerlitz.

The day after the review, Boris rides to Olmütz to build on his burgeoning relationship with Andrei, with the goal of obtaining a position of adjutant. He reflected, “It is all well for Rostov, whose father sends him 20,000 rubles at a time, to NOT wish to be anyone’s lackey, but I who have little but my brains, must not miss any opportunity!” Olmütz was transformed into the headquarters where the Emperors resided. When Boris inquired of Andrei, he was shunned by officials who grew tired of the number of low-level officers who were coming and going. He learned Andrei would return the next day, so at that time Boris visited Kutuzov’s quarters and found Andrei in a reception room. He noticed Andrei with an older General, who was hardly keeping Andrei’s interest. Andrei, clearly part of the inner circle of influence, was ecstatic to interrupt the old man and turned to Boris with a smile. Boris realized that besides discipline, subordination and order prescribed in the official Army code, there was a more important way of life, which forced the General to the sideline. Boris resolved to become part of this higher world. Andrei informed Boris that he had been occupied with the Austrian command and references the historic General Franz von Weyrother, who plays a critical role in the upcoming Battle of Austerlitz. Boris could only pretend to understand who Andrei was alluding to. Andrei conveys that he will recommend Boris for a position as an adjunct. Boris is thankful and very much desires an audience with Kutuzov but Andrei explains the commander’s staff is overflowing with many who have no use. Andrei wishes to refer Boris to the historic advisor to the Czar, Peter Dolgorúkov, who Andrei labels “a good friend and excellent fellow.” Therefore, they went to the local palace where a significant council of war of the Hofkriegsrat and Russian Command just finished. The consensus was to advance and vanquish Napoleon. Dolgorúkov was under the spell of the event, where the ambitions misguided youth prevailed. This was contrary to the views of Kutuzov. All voices who counseled delay were silenced by conclusive evidence of the victory that awaited. The advantages included: superior numbers, the perceived quality of troops, knowledge of the terrain, and that the allies were inspired by the Emperors. Dolgorúkov was exhausted but eager for inevitable victory. Andrei introduced his protégé, but Dolgorúkov was unable to get beyond the impending action. Dolgorúkov referenced how Napoleon sent a letter, proposing peace, which was viewed as a ruse to gain time. Tolstoy brings out the historic affront crafted in response. Dolgorúkov explains “What was most amusing was how we could not think how to address our reply! Not to Napolean as ‘Consul’ nor ‘Emperor,’ or ‘General Bonaparte.’” The fictional Diplomat Bilibin jokingly suggested “Usurper and Enemy of Mankind.” What was agreed on was: To the Head of the French Government / Au chef du gouvernement français. Andrei acknowledges how much Napoleon will be insulted, which makes Dolgorúkov recall a tale about Napoleon, who held held a reputation “as the most cunning and subtle diplomat, a combination of French adroitness and Italian play-acting!” On one purported occasion, Bonaparte wished to take the measure of a Russian ambassador, Count Markov, and purposely dropped a handkerchief and then stood looking at Markov, expecting Markov to assist. Instead, Markov dropped his own and picked it up without touching Bonaparte’s. When Andrei reintroduces Boris, the young man receives passing acknowledgment, but is told his appeal will be addressed another time. Still, Boris was enraptured by his surroundings. He recognized he was among the springs that set in motion enormous movements of men. If left just in his regiment, he would consider himself an obedient and insignificant atom. As exiting, they all noticed a short man with a clever face and sharply projecting jaw, who nodded to Dolgorúkov as to an intimate friend but stared at Andrei with cool intensity. “Who was that?” asked Boris. Andrei explained, “He is one of the most remarkable, but to me most unpleasant of men—the Minister of Foreign Affairs, Prince Adam Czartorýski.... It is such men as he who decide the fate of nations.” Tolstoy is referencing an extremely significant Polish statesman, who lived to just over 90. At the time of the novel is set, Czartorýski was a close friend and trusted advisor to Tsar Alexander, but was later famous for trying restore sovereignty to Poland.

This second episode on the Calvary Maiden takes you through some of the formative years of the author, Nadezhda Durova. Durova wrote briefly of her years growing up then focused on her time dressing as a man and serving for 10 years as a low-level officer in the Czar’s army, starting around 1806. Her journals were source material for Tolstoy as to the lives of those who served in the period War & Peace is set, 1805-1812. It is presented to give you a glimpse into those frequently nameless and overlooked, who often gave their lives in the Napoleonic conflicts. Durova’s story brings up still-relevant issues of identify, in terms how some who grew up in modern-day Ukraine or partitioned Poland, had different ties, (some to Polish nobility, others to Cossacks, some to Turks, others to runaway serfs), identified themselves. A number, like Durova, graciously accepted a life of service to the Czar. Others, like the former serf, Taras Shevchenko, or the Polish Diplomat, Adam Czartoryski, advanced the idea of nationhood and identity separate from Russian domination. This episode is a brief overview of Durova’s experience from when she was 4 months-old, when she begins to articulate the ever-present animosity with her mother. This is illustrated with Durova being thrown out of a moving carriage upon her mother became frustrated while nursing. Her father then gave her to the primary care of one of his male servants, who Durova clung to at the sight of her mother. For her first four years of life, Durova’s family remained on the road, in military service, where she was affected by hussars shouting, drilling and riding their horses. This lifestyle attracted her. Her Muscovite father recognized life with a growing family mandated a different position and traveled to Moscow in search of same. It was at that time that Durova and her mother returned to her parents’ home near the Poltova region in Ukraine. She spent time on the property marching, making forts, and pretending to be in hussar service. Her maternal grandparents, who initially rejected their Ukrainian daughter marrying a Muscovite, reconciled with the situation. Durova’s father eventually received a commission to become a district mayor in Sarapul, near the Kama River in the foothills of the Ural Mountains. She spent the better part of a decade in this colder climate. She would often run away and explore nearby forests and rivers. Her father accepted her adventurous inclinations and gifted her horse, Alcides, who remained with Durova well into her military service. Durova would often wake up at the crack-of-dawn and take Alcides for a liberating run, with servants becoming accustomed to this unusual dynamic. This frustrated her mother to no end. However, her kind father and the rest of the family got a kick out of Durova’s precociousness. She remained in Sarapul until her mother grew tired of her presence and encouraged sending her back to Ukraine to live with her grandmother.

Tolstoy addresses the over-confidence of Napoleon’s adversaries prior to the battle of Austerlitz, when Kutuzov’s forces and the Austrians reached their limit of no further retreat, winding up near Olmütz. Here, Emperors Alexandr & Francis would review their troops that numbered around 80K (both seasoned and reinforcements) before a 40-mile march south to fight the French, who had around 50K soldiers near Brünn. Napoleon’s supply lines were extended after traveling so far into the Holy Roman Empire and Kutuzov is historically thought to have been reticent to engage Napoleon as he thought it better to draw the French further east and wait for Prussia to align against Napoleon. Yet he recognized with two Emperors meeting face-to-face and the French occupying Vienna, there was a compelling reason to fight. He also recognized Alexandr wanted to be the first Czar since Peter I to lead a battle of such magnitude. Moreover, the recent skirmishes created a consensus, this would be where Napoleon’s magnificent run ended. We are brought to the morning of the review. From the crack of dawn, there was preparation, with throngs of men moving and halting upon command. Groups turned with banners and wheeled around each other. Prominent was the rhythmic beating of hooves and drums while calvary soldiers were carried on their steeds. From the artillery wagons, polished cannons and guns glimmered. Every soldier was shaved, with weapons clean and polished and generals strutted in their fancy parade uniforms. Even the horses were groomed to the point their coats shined like satin. This Review bordered on the sacred. The men held inner feelings of insignificance before Majesty but were also conscious of their strength as a part of an enormous tempest. By 10:00 a.m., the army was extended in three lines: cavalry in front, then artillery, and in the third row - infantry. All were ready to greet Alexandr and Francis. Soon enough, ran an excited whisper, “They’re coming!” Joy swept over the troops as hundreds of riders guarding the leaders moved closer as trumpets heralded. At the head where the two Emperors. Alexander’s youthful but majestic voice was heard. Those nearby roared “Hurrah!” so deafeningly that the men were awed by their own power. Rostov was in that throng and experienced what all others had: self-forgetfulness, a proud consciousness of might and devotion. He knew a single word from him would lead all to go through fire and and perform deeds of the highest heroism. “Hurrah! continued to thunder. Rostov was near the trumpeters and recognized the Tsar. He could distinguish every detail of his face. Alexandr’s every movement was enchanting. The Tsar said something in French to Francis. Every sound from him was a gift from heaven. Rostov felt the most powerful flow of love for his sovereign, which he longed to demonstrate and considered, “if the Emperor would speak to me, I would die of happiness.” The Tsar addressed the officers: “I thank you all, gentlemen, I thank you with my whole heart.” When Alexandr moved down the line, he was accompanied by a sea of high-level aides. Rostov noticed Bolkonsky among them. When thinking of their recent quarrel, Rostov realized Andrei was correct to suggest the matter be dropped. Such a disagreement was “not even worth thinking of at such a moment! At a time of such love, rapture and such self-sacrifice. What do any such affronts matter? For, I love and forgive everybody!” When the troops saw their Emperors, they instantly felt they could lay down their lives. It a phenomena that exists through the ages and Tolstoy gets you to question such devotion. After some time, select soldiers began a ceremonial march past Alexandr, including Rostov, a who was a fine horseman. He rode Bedouin, recently purchased from Denísov and it seemed the animal knew he was in the presence of royalty. “Fine fellows, those Pavlograds!” commented the Emperor. When it was over, the soldiers collected in groups and began to talk. All discussion soon turned to Bonaparte and how he would be vanquished, especially if reinforcements came from Prussia. Soon enough the conversation in every group centered on Emperor Alexandr. His every word and movement was described with ecstasy. They all had one wish: to advance as soon as possible! All felt they could not fail.

This edition examines the second Sevastopol Sketch, where Tolstoy covers an all-too-common artillery battle and truce afterward. It focuses on May of 1855, roughly six months into the 11-month Siege during the Crimean War. In the recent W&P episode, Tolstoy describes how young soldiers are typically unable to speak the truth and will conform their wartime stories to the expectations of their audience, as well as put themselves in the best light. He plays this out using the fictional Rostov, who was fearful and shaky on this horse as he headed into one of his first calvary charges. Rostov’s horse was shot out from under him and he fell to the ground, disoriented. When he came to, Rostov quickly became in fear of losing his life and ran into the woods like an animal pursued, with the French in hot pursuit. He soon pondered, “Why did I even come here?” However, when he conveyed this event days later, he told his old friends (Boris & Berg) how he was in a frenzy while charging and slashing at the French. Truth was completely lost on the symbolic good-hearted lad. Tolstoy, a decade before publishing W&P, memorably wrote that the hero of his second Sevastopol Sketch (roughly 35 pages), whom he loves with all of his soul, was Truth. It is something War obscures. He succeeded in conveying a truth of War in this sketch, namely its brutality. Tolstoy describes how men, full of lofty and petty hopes, just hours before, now lie as corpses or hideously mangled casualties after an artillery battle typical to what he witnessed firsthand. He conveyed that the men involved, as opposed to the ideal of Truth, could not be said to symbolize good or evil. They made up of the spectrum of human behavior: good bad and ugly. Some were motivated by serving their fellow man and others by vane concerns. Some were men of resolve, others of fickleness. The same could be said of the French. He labels the mid-levels officers sending their fellow men to near-certain death as “petty Napoleons,” implying that they are enemies of each man fighting as much as those wearing opposing uniforms. At the end of this Sketch, Tolstoy focuses on the aftermath of a battle where white flags are raised and time is granted to collect the dead and wounded. The townspeople come out and many of the soldiers converge. Their better natures are manifest. They pat each other on the back, speak of the valour exhibited, and even exchange small gifts like tobacco. Tolstoy expresses that these men are Christians who should all profess the Love of Him above and discard their arms, fall on their knees in repentance, and embrace their brothers in Christ. Yet he acknowledges, this will not happen, as when the flags are raised, the malevolent cycle will repeat itself.

The latter part of this chapter has Nicholas Rostov continuing his parley with Boris and Berg. I broke it into two episodes because the latter section deals with the first interaction between Andrei and Nichols, who surprisingly are not familiar with one another. After Rostov alludes to his award, Boris retrieves the money and letter from Rostov’s family. Upon reading a few lines, Rostov hid his face, ashamed he frightened his family over his trivial injury. Berg then makes the mistake of commenting on Rostov’s bounty; as Rostov was given an excuse to turn his frustration at Berg. Berg is asked to temporarily leave and Rostov is free to lament. Also in the correspondence was a letter of recommendation for a position with General Bagration. However, Rostov throws it away. He does not want to be anyone’s adjutant, which he views as a servant’s job. Boris picks it up and confesses how much he would prefer such a position. When the wine arrived, Berg was invited back. Over the bottle, the conversation became animated with the friends relaying their adventures, one from the vantage point of a hussar and the others from service close to the Imperial family. Attention soon focuses on how Rostov was hurt. Without any intention of dishonesty, he gave an exaggerated account and conformed his story to expectations of what a cavalry attack would be. Notably, Rostov couldn’t have told the Truth: that he fell off his horse and ran into the woods. Tolstoy is implying that young men who face battle are prone to spin such tales. Rostov goes on to describe the battle at Schöngrabern as a collective memory, incorporating the bravery of those around him. Rostov fervently relayed how he was aflame with excitement, flying like a hurricane at the French and cutting them down with his saber. He was carried away with lies. Just as he was saying: “You cannot imagine the frenzy,” Prince Andrei, entered the room, looking for Boris, as he had received a letter from Pierre requesting he help the young lad advance in his career. Andrei took notice of the young braggart. Already disillusioned by war, Andrei could not stand such boasting. He composed himself and gave Boris a pleasant greeting but frowned at Rostov, who noticed the affront. Boris then inquired of the battle plans. “We shall probably advance,” was Andrei’s reply. Andrei turned to Rostóv and asked him if he was at Schöngrabern. When Rostov replied he was, Andrei calmly noted: “Yes, there are many stories now told about that affair.” Rostov took the bait, saying “Yes, stories!, But ours are those of men who have been under fire! Our have some weight, not like the stories of those on the staff who get rewards for doing nothing” “Of whom you imagine me to be one?” retorted Andrei, with an amiable smile. Rostov was irate but recognized his adversary’s self-possession. He mustered, “I don’t know you and, frankly, I don’t want to. I am speaking of the staff in general.” Andrei calmly continues “I see you wish to insult me, and it would be very easy to do so if you lack sufficient self-respect, but admit that the time and place are badly chosen as in a day or two we shall all have to take part in a greater duel.” He added, “you know my name and where to find me, but don’t forget that I do not regard either myself or you as having been insulted, and as a man older than you, my advice is to let the matter drop.” Andrei takes his exit after telling Boris they will speak further after the review. Rostov soon leaves for his own camp on horseback and dwells on the interaction. He replayed the events, thinking what he ought to have said. He imagines challenging Andrei to a duel and covering him with a pistol. While he wanted to see that small proud man cower, at the same time he realized there was no one else he had come across that he would so much like to have as a friend.

This chapter begins to highlight the optimism of the Coalition approaching the Battle of Austerlitz. We also experience a rare crossing of the major characters, Nicholas and Andrei. While Nicholas was riding with the Pavlograd Hussars, Boris was serving more comfortably with the Imperial Guard, accompanying Czar Alexander as he traveled toward Olmütz, Moravia, a mostly German speaking enclave of the Holy Roman Empire that sits along a tributary of the Danube River. The allies were uniting in their largest numbers with plans to square off against Napoleon’s Grande Armée. Kutúzov’s forces already reached Olmütz while the Guards were stationed 10 miles away. All units were preparing to be reviewed by Emperors Alexander and Francis II. Nicholas receives a note from Boris, informing him that Boris arrived with the letter and money from his family. Nicholas was elated as he was dire need of funds and set off at once to find his childhood friend. Rostov’s unit was no longer on the run, so his camp swarmed with sutlers (civilian merchants). The Hussars held feast after feast, celebrating and receiving honors. Nicholas attained a promotion to cornet, a relatively low officer’s rank. He also had to buy Denisov’s horse, “Bedouin,” after his trusty “Rook” fell in battle. With such expenses, he was in serious debt. Nicolas is over asking himself – Why am I Here? The morale of his unit infused him with a proud spirit, as he never obtained any personal glory. Nevertheless, he proudly dons his crumpled hussar cap and shabby cadet jacket. He wishes to appear more seasoned than anyone he will come across. Commanded by Grand Duke Konstantin Pavlovich, the Imperial Guards made their march west as if on a pleasure trip, with knapsacks on carts and the finest of provisions from Austria. While supplies to Russia’s fighting regiments was notoriously poor, the Austrian authorities made sure the Imperial Guard and Emperor were well taken care of. Everywhere they stopped, bands and fanfare welcomed them and a grand ball was organized. Boris had marched along and been quartered with Berg, who was promoted to Captain, mostly for competently arranging financial matters. Berg was rising in accord with his ambition. Boris also had his eyes on advancement, making acquaintance of many of influence. He received a letter of recommendation from Pierre and become acquainted with Andrei, through whom he hoped to gain a post on Kutuzov’s staff. Nicholas finds Boris & Berg sitting, clean and neatly dressed, at a table in tidy quarters, playing chess. Nicholas enthusiastically greats them and imitates their old Nurse’s mangled French, saying “Petisenfans, allay cushay dormir!” Meaning, Oh children, go to sleep. All can immediately spot how much each has changed. They had not met for half a year and each young man had taken such important steps along life’s Road. Boris rose to meet his old friend and Nicholas initially resisted because he wanted to roughhouse with Boris. Still, Boris acted in accord with etiquette , embracing Nicholas and kissing him three times. They then boisterously exchanged greetings and took notice of the attractive German land-lady. Nicholas points out how both his friend had become dandies. Soon they ordered wine. Boris soon asks Nicholas about his experiences and if he has been under fire. Without speaking, Nicholas smiled and shook the cross of St. George fastened to his uniform and showcased his bandaged arm. The background of this award is significant as St. George (of Cappadocian Greek origin) was a 4th Century Roman Soldier who converted to Christianity and was martyred when he would not recant his faith. There is also a legend he slayed a dragon when a lovely princess was going to be sacrificed to the beast. Paintings and awards often depict his symbolic victory over evil. The figure and tale holds immense significance in Russian history.

This is an introduction to Calvary Maiden, a source Tolstoy used to portray the experiences of soldiers during the Napoleonic Wars. Tolstoy utilized a variety of such works to craft, more than 50 years after the events depicted in War & Peace, the spirit of that first decade and a half of the 19th century. This source material was an unconventional choice as Calvary Maiden contains the journals of a young woman, Nadezhda Andreyevna Durova, who presented as a man to pursue military ambitions. Her material was first published in 1836, well-after her 9 years of service that commenced in 1806. It was rare but not unprecedented for a woman to so serve. However, journaling her experience made Durova the first known woman in the Czar's army. There are considerable embellishments and falsehoods in Durova's work. Most notably, Durova represents that she ran away from her beloved father's home at about 15 to pursue her military career. However, Durova was likely around 22, and her adventures started after a brief marriage and having a son. The inaccuracies could be attributable to accommodating government censors, pleasing editors, or for a variety of personal reasons. It does appear that when Durova left home, she initially linked up with a Cossack regiment and later joined a series of calvary regiments, obtaining a position as a junior line officer. Durova has a contemporarily relevant ethnic background. She advertises being born of one of the most beautiful women in Ukraine, which had been something of a free state while under Cossack rule, but was dissolved in 1773-74 and dominated by Czars/Czarinas. Durova’s maternal grandfather was a Ukrainian civil servant. At 16, her mother (also named Nadezhda) became enamored with a Muscovite Hussar who traveled to family’s small town near Poltova, an Ukrainian city with historical import. Her Ukrainian grandfather forbade any such match, as would have been customary. Nevertheless, the two eloped and the young couple was able to pursue their own path as military life initially kept them on the move. Being around this lifestyle very much fascinated her. Durova was firstborn and describes herself as a monstrously ugly infant and the bane of her mother’s existence. However, her father (Andrej Durov) is characterized as industrious, loving and kind. It appears Andrej was descended from a low level of Polish nobility. This would have allowed his male descendants to gain an officer position, which Durova, in her disguise, was able to merit. Durova sheds light on her escape from roles traditionally associated with females of the time, such as: wife, mother, tutor, mistress and hostess. She participated in some of the grand military events of the day and capably describes life in both war and peacetime. She is one of few authors to focus on the latter, the downtime which often makes up the bulk of a soldier's experience.

Though always in their hearts, it had been months since the Rostovs received news of Nicholas. When Count Ilya finally received a letter from his son, he ran his study with it. Anna Drubetskaya, Boris’ mother, was living with the family and aimed to be useful. She found Ilya sobbing and laughing. His darling boy suffered a small wound but was promoted. He found this reason to thank God. Still, he wonders how to tell his wife of the injury. Anna therefore took the rest of the day preparing the Countess. Young Natasha convinced Anna to reveal the nature of the letter and promised to keep it secret. She broke her word right away, telling Sonya (who is devoted to Nicholas) as well as her little brother, Petya. Sonya cried and Natasha comforted her -- noting it was just “a little wound.” Petya takes the missive with resolve and adds how he would have “killed many Frenchmen.” Natasha asks Sonya, “Do you remember Nicholas?” She means in the sense of holding the same feelings. Sonya reveals, “I am in love with your brother and whatever may happen, shall never cease to love him.” Natasha no longer feels the same about Boris. Her childlike love has faded. Natasha knew there was such love as Sonya was describing, but never experienced it. They discuss whether it would be proper for Sonya to write Nicholas and reference his commitment. Sonya decides that if she is mentioned in the letter, she will write. Natasha does not have any compulsion to write Boris as she feels it would just come out awkward. Pétya reveals Natasha has developed affections for the new Count Bezúkhov as well as her Italian singing coach. After dinner, the Countess was in her room focused on a portrait of Nicholas. Anna arrived with the letter while Ilya listened through a keyhole. There was crying, silence, then voices in happy intonation. Anna opened the door and exhibited a proud expression. Anna embraced her husband and in came Véra, Natasha, Sonya and Pétya. All went over the letter. There was a description of the campaign, battles and the promotion. Nicholas sent his love and asked for his parents’ blessings. He sent a special greeting to “dear Sónya, whom he loved and thought of just the same as ever.” When Sonya heard this, she blushed, cried and ran to the dancing hall, where she whirled around at full speed. The practical Vera asked, “Why are you crying, Mamma? One should be glad and not cry.” This was true but not wise to express. She was reproached by the family while her mother thought, “and who is it she takes after?” The letter was read over among tutors, nurses and servants. Each time the Countess did so with fresh pleasure. She contemplated how incredible it was that her son, once a scarcely perceptible motion under her heart, who had learned to say little words, was now away in a foreign land doing warrior’s work as a model officer. It was the universal experience - showing how children imperceptibly grow from the cradle to manhood. Yet it does not exist for a mother. Her boy’s growth, at each stage, seemed as extraordinary to her as if it never existed in others. She thought, “What style! and “what a heart and soul!” She noticed how Nicholas barely wrote of his exploits and sufferings, but mentions Denísov and others. A bountiful response would come from the family, as a new officer needs supplies which are NOT paid for by the army. Preparations were being made, along drafts of letters. 6,000 rubles was collected. There was a question of how to reach Nicholas as he was on the move and the postal system was notoriously ill-managed. Anna would prove her worth yet again in conveying the material. She had curried favor with authorities (couriers for Grand Duke Constantine Pávlovich, a historic figure and elder brother of Alexander I) to secure a means of communication to reach Boris, who would convey any package to Nicholas.

Once separated for the evening, Anatole fell right asleep. The charmed women did not. Marya considered, “Is he really to be my husband? This stranger who is so kind.” However, she soon feels the force of evil near her as a Satanic image mixed with Anatole’s. She rang for her maid, asking her to sleep in her room. Lise grumbled how uncomfortable she was in bed. Anatole’s presence reminded her of when she was not impacted by pregnancy and loneliness. Amélie Bourienne walked about the winter garden, working out this scenario where she would allow herself to be seduced, then try to win Anatole with a story about how her poor mother’s ghost shamed her. Conveying this would hopefully guilt Anatole into marrying her. Such projection contrasts with Marya, who would never so play with spirits. Bolkonsky could not sleep and reflected, “The first man that turns up—she forgets her father and becomes so unlike herself!” He is disappointed Marya did not have the pride to see Anatole’s nature. He considers casting off Bourienne and aims to reveal the truth, in part, to convince Marya not to leave Bald Hills. The next morning, Anatole and Amélie recognized how much each had to “say” to the other. They took the opportunity to rendezvous in the garden when Marya went to meet her father. Marya was told, “I have a proposition and refer it to you. Prince Vasíli finds you to his taste as a daughter-in-law and makes a proposal to you on his protégé’s behalf.” Marya asks for her father’s input but realizes he does not approve. He informs her Anatole will take her dowry and bring Bourienne into the marriage. Marya become despondent and her father feigned speaking in jest. He advises Marya to take an hour to pray over the matter and adds, “Remember that your happiness depends on your decision. He receives his orders from his father and will marry you or anybody; but you are free to choose.” Mary wishes to accept but what her father said had an impact. An invisible force led her into the conservatory, where she recognized the whispering of Amélie. A few steps away, she saw Anatole fully embracing the French woman. Marya was shocked. Amélie screamed and ran off. Anatole composed himself, bowed with a smirk, as if inviting Marya to join in a laugh and retreated. Marya was summoned an hour later as she comforted Amélie. She gazed at Amélie with tender affection and stroked her hair. Amélie was apologetic, “You who are so pure… can never understand being so carried away.” Marya responded, “I love you more than ever and will do all I can for your happiness.” She then she went to address Anatole’s father. Vasíli was optimistic. “My dear! My son’s fate is in your hands. Decide, my gentle Marie, whom I have always loved as a daughter!” Bolkonsky put the matter bluntly, “Do you wish or not to be Prince Anatole Kurágin’s wife? Reply and then I reserve the right to state my opinion.” Marya answered, “My desire is never to leave you, Father.” Vasíli did not relent, “Will you not give us a little hope of touching your heart? Say ‘perhaps’... The future is so long.” Marya continued, “Prince, I have said all in my heart. I thank you for the honor but shall never be your son’s wife.” Bolkonsky then steered Vasíli out the door and sends Marya to her room. “Well, so that’s finished, my dear fellow! I am very glad to have seen you.” Marya contemplated, “My vocation is to be content with another kind of happiness, of love and self-sacrifice. Cost what it may, I will arrange poor Amélie’s happiness as she loves Anatole so passionately and repents. I will give her the means; I will ask my father and Andrei. I shall be so happy when she is his wife. She has been so unfortunate, alone and helpless! And how she must love him if she could so forget herself! Perhaps I might have done the same!”

Marya comes from her room to meet Anatole and is quickly smitten by his attractiveness. He introduced himself and stood smiling with his chest expanded. He was hardly eloquent but had the invaluable faculty of composure. He knew he inspired curiosity, awe and lust. Marie wished to convey that she did not expect to interest him. The conversation became genial thanks to Lise. Speaking French, she drew all into her stories. Shaking a finger at Anatole, she reveals, “I have heard of your doings in Paris!” With Paris referenced, Bourienne jumped in and Anatole thought, “la petite est gentile.” Bolkonsky remained in his study, considering how Vasíli is a shallow soul with his son likely in the same mold. Their presence brought up whether he could part from the daughter he cherished. “Why should she marry? To be unhappy?” He thought of Lise, thinking a better husband than his son could not be found. Still, Lise was not content. He realized some women remain happier and have more agency unmarried. He also demanded any suitor be worthy. As Vasíli stepped in to drag Pierre into marriage, Bolkonsky is preparing to keep Marya out. Upon meeting his guests, Bolkonsky noticed Anatole flirting with Bourienne and already felt Marya was playing the fool. He went up to Vasíli, exchanged pleasantries and discussed news of the war, but soon broke off to chastise his daughter for her new look, reducing her to tears. Bolkonsky then addressed Anatole and spoke in a way where Anatole felt compelled to hold back laughter. “My dear boy…So, you wish to serve the Tsar and the country? It is wartime, such a fine fellow must serve. Well, are you off to the front?” In responding, Anatole must ask his father what unit he is attached to, which confirms Bolkonsky’s suspicions of his quality. Nevertheless, as soon as Vasíli got Bolkonsky alone, Vasíli announced his hopes. Bolkonsky said he would ask Marya tomorrow in everyone’s presence. If she is willing, Anatole can “stay on,” but still notes “I’ll see,” implying he would be the final arbiter. Vasíli adds “I will tell you frankly, Anatole is no genius, but he is an honest, goodhearted lad, excellent son, and would be no less a relative.” Anatole remains busy entertaining the women of the House. Attributable to their loneliness, all were charmed. Even Marya forgot her plainness. Anatole seemed out of a dream: kind, confident, masculine, and magnanimous. Aspirations of a family rose in Marya’s imagination. “Am I too cold with him? I remain reserved because in the depth of my soul I feel too near to him already.” In contrast, Anatole thought, “Poor girl, she’s devilish ugly!” Bourienne’s passions were also spurred. Without any status, relatives, or even a country, she did not intend to devote her life to serving Bolkonsky. She dreamed of a prince like this who would appreciate her looks and fall in love. Her aunt had told her about such scenarios. It was not calculation that guided her as she didn’t have the sense to plan. She just wished to try to please the man before her. Anatole was cognizant of his power and the feeling that most intensely rose was a passionate lust for Bourienne. Mary was soon asked to play on the clavichord. Her favorite sonata bore her into animated poetic world. In her lovely eyes there was a look of hope and joy. Anatole faced Marie but concentrated on Bourienne. Mary would look at Bourienne, thinking, “How happy I am now, and how happy I may be with such a friend and such a husband! When it came to retire, Anatole kissed Marya’s hand. He did the same to Bourienne, which was a breach of protocol. She flushed as Marya considered, “Is it possible Amélie thinks I could be jealous of her, and not value her devotion.” Lastly, Anatole went up to Lise and they had a playful interaction to close the night.

In August of 1908, when 80 years old, Tolstoy penned the open letter, “The Blessings of Love,” referring to the Love which embodies the Almighty. Tolstoy wrote much, later-in-life, about his religious convictions, but this episode will focus on this relatively short letter addressed to “Good People Everywhere.” Tolstoy explicitly introduces the concept of divine Love in War & Peace through Mayra reaching out in prayer when she faces the temptation for physical pleasure when Anatole pays a courting visit. She feels the Lord has placed in her heart the direction to orient herself around heavenly Love. She is reminded to focus on the Lord’s command of Love: meaning commitment to others as demonstrated by God’s willingness to sacrifice his Son. Tolstoy begins his missive with special appeal to those “fighting on behalf of one government or another, which nobody needs.” He specifically reaches out to his “Dear Brothers” including: “King, Minister, Merchant, Worker, and Peasant.” He notes that the further he reaches in life, the more it becomes clear that we need to focus on this transcendent Love. Tolstoy proffers that our earthly toils distract us from this obligation; but it is what the Lord desires for our short indeterminate lifespans, which lie between the voids of pre-birth and post-death. Tolstoy, believing his end was immanent, was acknowledging the transience and fragility of terrestrial life. He did not dread the prospect of death, but viewed it as natural and beneficial, like one day passing into another. He writes that our lives have such potential for joy, where we can appreciate the heavens and nature, with a stewardship for what is before us. Instead, we wind up creatures constructing buildings, factories and roads, often for the latest commerce system that mass produces items Tolstoy believes nobody needs. Such industrial demands create pollution and sicken workers (physically and mentally), who dwell in the slums of the early 20th century. In mining pursuits, Tolstoy emphasizes, somewhat metaphorically, how workers descend into the earth to extract stones and iron. This stands in contrast to looking upwards and outwards – towards the divine. Instead of living joyfully and being prone to God’s bounty, we hate, kill, harass and accumulate. Some utilitarian masters-of-the-day claim to be guided by a greater good. Others are influenced by habit, tradition, or imitation. However, without focus on the divine, so many have been reduced to fighting like animals, and live a perversion of what life should be. Ultimately, we must do what coincides with the demands of our soul, namely to act in the spirit of brotherly Love. Tolstoy proposes: let the those fighting for so-called freedom or order, put a tinge of their efforts toward living out this Love. He is confident everyone will see the fruits of their labor and experience a bliss. Even if you try it for a day, it will make you unlikely to turn back. For Love transcends death. He appears to be referencing popular Gospel teachings, such as to live to accumulate treasures in heaven, instead of riches on earth, which will inevitably perish. For divine Love is eternal. Tolstoy concludes that all of his fame, wealth, and devices of social life are trivial compared to the Love the soul demands. Therefore, we are to live with sacrificial intent. Such a life is open to us and calls.

Nicholas Bolkónski receives a letter from Vasíli Kuragin, who would be visiting with his prodigal son, Anatole. This is a suitor for Marya. Bolkónski always held a poor opinion of Vasíli, but this view converted into an utter contempt. On the morning Vasíli was to arrive, the head serf, Alpátych, deferentially explained that he had the path swept of snow after being informed a “minister” was arriving. Bolkónski exploded, “A minister? Who gave orders to sweep? For me, there are no ministers!” He does not want Vasíli to receive special treatment. Bolkónski swung a walking stick near Alpátych and shouted, “Throw the snow back on the road!” At mealtime, Amélie Bourienne brings up the impending visit and Bolkónski references how he got Vasíli his initial governmental position. He alludes, with disdain, to the obvious reason for the visit. Bourienne changes the subject to flowers in the conservatory. This, along with the soup, placated Bolkónski. Later Bolkónski went to check on Lise, who avoided the meal under the pretense of her pregnancy. He asked how she was feeling. Lise, who pregnancy made plain, lived in trepidation, but grew accustomed to life and took a fancy to Bourienne. Bolkónski then visited his head serf. Alpátych relayed the snow was shoveled back and pleaded, “Forgive me..... It was only my stupidity.” “All right,” responded Bolkónski and stretched out his hand to be kissed. Vasíli and Anatole arrived that evening and were met by servants, who had to drag the sleighs and baggage over re-laden snow. Once settled, Anatole became at ease. He regarded life as a continual round of amusement and realized, why not marry her if she has so much money? He shaved, scented himself and held his head high as he approached his father. He asks, “Father, is she truly hideous?” He is rebuked, “Enough! Remember, for you everything depends on this.” Marya, in contrast, sat alone in her room, forlorn. Lise and Bourienne had a better sense of how to make an elegant presentation and put heartfelt effort into preparing Marya, acting with the naïve conviction that dress or hairstyle could make a face pretty. Marya was so plain that nothing helped. Neither thought of her as a rival in terms of beauty. Marya remained piteous and her companions eventually retreated. Alone, Marya let her mind wander and dreamed of a husband, a dominant attractive man. She dreamed of the joy of physical relations and fancied nursing her own child, with her husband gazing tenderly. However, the visualization broke and she realized, “I am too unattractive.” She was soon summoned to meet Anatole. She felt appalled at what she had been thinking and went to the nearby prayer room, where she fixed her eyes on an icon of her Savior. A painful thought filled her soul, Could the joy of love, earthly love for a man, be for her? With a handsome guest invading the threshold, this deeply hidden longing revealed itself. Instead of trying take steps to satisfy her desire, she appeals in prayer: Oh Lord… How am I to renounce these vile fancies, so as peacefully to fulfill Thy will?” God placed the answer in her heart, revealing that she was to focus on divine love, that selfless love motivated by commitment to others, as demonstrated by God being willing to sacrifice his Son. The Lord continues, Desire nothing for thyself… be not envious or fearful. The future and thy own fate must remain hidden, but live so that thou mayest be ready for anything. If it be God’s will for thee to marry, be ready to fulfill His will. With this consolation, Princess Marya crossed herself and was mentally prepared to present herself, thinking no more of superficialities, as nothing could matter in comparison with the will of God.

This second and final part of the first Sevastopol Sketch takes you from the Assembly Hall to the artillery fortifications/bastions. After taking in the majestic sky, you are brought back to earth, to the vulgarity of war. A funeral procession marches by. The music and banners cover up the beastliness you observed in the Hall. You reach the lively city center and pass inns, shops and street merchants. You notice the variety of officers, many finding relief in alcohol. You overhear the musings of soldiers covering the latest battles, logistics, leadership, and field conditions. Causalities are relayed with the ease of giving weather updates. The tales of these men will be told for generations. You hear reports from the infamous 4th bastion, which is spoken of with transcendent reverence. Those in the most critical positions find themselves best able to focus on the task at hand, much like the fictional Captain Tushin at the Battle of Shongräben. You drift towards the bastions amidst a frozen mist on an avenue destroyed by artillery. You notice pierced roofs and broken windows. A stone walkway gives way to crude boards and beams. As you near and ascend a steep hill, officers (in groups of four) are hauling the wounded on stretchers. Near the top of the hill, you observe the action as bullets whiz about. Below is a trench of foul-smelling muck that leads to more directly to the bastions. There is an elevated path on the hill, but it exposes you. You nevertheless use it as the alternative is dreadful. In a few hundred paces you reach a battery and notice broken guns and cannon balls. Artillery whistles and thuds about you. For a moment, you believe you reached the 4th Bastion. However, it is the relatively safer Yazonovsky Redoubt. After a short stay, you traverse a narrow trench leading you to the infamous stronghold. You pass sharp-shooters eating, smoking and chatting. Others are playing cards. This is their home and they make the best of their lot. A soldier of the 4th Bastion takes interest in you and tries to ease your nerves. There seems to be only one large working cannon in a battery, which a naval officer demonstrates the use of. Much was destroyed the day before. The enemy (French) are only 30 to 40 fathoms away. 60-80 yards. Naval officers are working the smaller guns. These wrinkled and sunburned men have wide shoulders, powerful torsos and stout legs. Their resolve is unimpeachable. A naval officer appears to have killed two of the enemy and you absorb their countenance, craving for revenge. Balls of death volley your way and the earth shatters. There are showers of dirt, stones and debris. Some of your own become casualties. You expect the next shell will end your life, but it passes and you become exuberant. You dare the enemy to strike you! You visualize a dying man being carried. His face is imbued with exaltation. His eyes shine bright as he uses all his energy to hold his head up. In a trembling voice, he says – Farewell brothers. You are transfixed by the valiance of the men as you take your leave – they are the defenders of Sevastopol. They are unwavering in spirit and demonstrate unparalleled courage under fire. This is the dynamic in the early days of the Siege - when holding out was viewed as a military impossibility. However, there was still no chance of a surrender. It was an effort worthy of the heroes of Greece.