War & Peace Podnotes, A Study Guide

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.

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.

The first Sevastopol Sketch focuses on December of 1854. Sevastopol is a name of Greek origin and is a well-known port city in Crimea. Before it was Ukrainian -- and before it was Russian or under Russian occupation -- it was part of the Crimean Khanate, heavily influenced by the Ottomans. Greek names were stamped on conquered cities just north of the Black Sea (think also Melitopol, Mariupol, and Kherson) by Czars & Czarinas as a show of respect for Greek culture. Notably, Greeks had a presence there going back thousands of years. The first Sketch focuses on a sunrise to sunset amidst the Siege. We take in Sevastopol through the perspective of an officer and get closer to the infamous bastions as the day goes on. Around 8 a.m., you (the officer) take notice of the rising sun above Sapun Ridge, which rises 240 meters. There is a changing of the guard, a soldier washing his face in frigid water, as well as doctors and nurses reporting to their stations. Life gets moving amidst the backdrop of death, which you can observe through wagons transporting the departed. You traverse a muddy beach, passing over a dead horse, and get into a small boat pulled by an old man and boy. The vessel sails around a disabled warship and soon reaches a wharf near the city center. Sevastopol remains a traditional city but has also become a war encampment. The surface bears the scars of cannon fire. There is a bustle – smoking, chatting, gambling and arguing. You take in: Cossacks with their horses, women with their children, and trades-folk. All their faces express enthusiasm in carrying on. Nobody is paralyzed by fear. Most importantly, you approach the Sevastopol Assembly Hall, which is serving as a hospital. You enter to the sights, sounds and smell of the wounded. Some are in hammocks, but the majority are on the floor. You are overcome through absorbing the pervasive suffering. You address a few of the men and they respond to your empathy. You meet one who lost his leg, who graciously thanks God that he will get his discharge. He tells you that it is best not to dwell. You come across housewives, one visiting her husband and another who was severely wounded while delivering food to her husband. You come across a blonde man with swollen face and labored breathing who is near death. You sense his internal fire of pain. You see an old gaunt solder changing his clothes. His body displays a lifetime of hardship. You can’t find words to convey your admiration. You take in the horrors of the operating area. Sleepless doctors are at work administering chloroform and hacking limbs. You see repeated -- the placing a sharp curved knife into a healthy part of the body and the men coming to with piercing cries. What follows is an arm or leg being thrown onto a pile. The men in queue for such treatment obsess over the terror that lies ahead. Tolstoy’s point is that such is the reality of War, not the music and drum beats and gallantry, and waving flags. This is the grim nature of suffering and death. You leave and head to an actual bastion. You reflect on what you observed and grasp your insignificance. You take a moment to behold the majestic sky -- The Lord’s sky. For any War & Peace reader, this scene bring to mind Andrei on the field of Austerlitz, gazing from the grass at the brilliant sky. Your mind soars above the fine city with a lovely church; and Your mind is restored.

In his Sevastopol Sketches, Tolstoy develops his ability to depict the reality of death within military conflict. His proficiency stemmed from service including three years in the Caucuses as well as action during the Crimean War (1853-56), both as a junior artillery officer. During his time near Chechnya (north of Georgia and west of Dagestan), Tolstoy observed such brutal Russian tactics as punitive raids and the indiscriminate the shelling of small villages. He was also affected by the burning of forests to deny Chechens cover. This area hosts a Muslim population by reason of Ottoman influence. Russia has attempted to purge Chechens from what Russia claimed as a southern frontier multiple times and this area remains filled with tension. With respect to the Crimean War, in 1853, Czar Nicholas declared war on the Ottoman Empire, Russia’s historic rival. Nicholas asserted the obligation to protect Christians in Ottoman territory and reasserted land-claims in the Danubian principalities. Russian leadership has long dreamed of retaking Istanbul (Constantinople), which was a center of Christianity for centuries. Napoleon III was at the forefront of the response to the Czar’s ambitions in 1853. A coalition (Turks, French & English) united to neutralize Russian expansion and protect the balance of power in Europe. It was hardly lost on Tolstoy that Russia served as a similar bulwark against Napoleon I. Tolstoy lived through the great humiliation of the Crimean War but immortalized one of Russia’s triumphs in repelling Napoleon I in 1812. This makes the great influences on him A Tale of Two Napoleons. A thread through The Sevastopol Sketches and War & Peace is the horrific nature of war. The subject is not glorified. The Sketches involve three vignettes of the 11-month Siege: November of 1854, May of 1855, and August of 1855. It was late in the Summer of 1855 when Sevastopol finally fell. The Sketches read like novellas. The first takes the reader on tour of Sevastopol – from the relative safety of a bay, through an infirmary, marketplace, and finally toward the front line. We are taken inside the Assembly Hall -- a make-shift hospital filled with causalities and disease. Tolstoy then depicts the activity of soldiers and citizens. He discusses merchants going about their trade as well as carriage drivers delivering goods and transporting the dead. The second vignette delves into the senseless vanity of war and pursuit of truth, which Tolstoy describes as the hero of any effort. The last and longest story provides a view of the end of the Siege through the eyes of fictional brothers. We are given a glimpse of the spectacle of incoming and outgoing artillery, the charges of the allies, and the valiant defense. Amidst the Crimean war, Czar Nicholas died in March of 1855 and Alexander II took the throne, who holds the reputation of a reformer. There was societal reflection that so much of the fighting was done by serfs tied to the land. These serfs were exposed to ideas of freedom and nationhood and there was a reckoning that their system could not stand. The serfs (over 20 million souls) were freed in 1861. Tolstoy proceeds on one of his great explorations - regarding the cause of historical events. He finds that people hold the ultimate power and are somehow (all at once), ready to be moved. This is opposed to the theory that a few great leaders move men. Lastly, the experience of the Crimean War transformed Tolstoy from traditional patriot to an everlasting dissident.

This is part 2 of 3 on Tolstoy’s 2nd Sevastopol Sketch, which focuses on May of 1855 and declares the ineffable value of Truth as hero. I’m presenting this episode after covering Austerlitz, a conflict symbolic of the vain pursuits of rulers. Further, similar to the result of Austerlitz, the Crimean War was a extraordinary humiliation for Russia that forced societal change. This sketch also contains memorable depictions of death amidst armed conflict. This story places the reader 6 months into the 11-month siege where “the Angel of Death hovers over all. “ This includes the 4.5 mile-long defensive line made of trenches with 8 major bastions. Notably, the Crimean War marks one of the rare times in the 19th century where France, England & Ottomans where allies. The War is also notable for advances in technology by the victors, including in naval artillery and how it was documented using telegraphs and photos. Florence Nightingale also gained recognition for her approach to nursing. This sketch focuses on a handful of fictional low-ranking officers. The climax is an artillery shell landing between two, where time slows down. Tolstoy brings you into their souls. The book begins with an introduction then focuses on the lead, Mikhailov, who is unmarried and noted not to own land. He is physically awkward and simple, but still “a man of worth.” He is thinking of a letter from a friend and day-dreams how his macabre reality can be a ladder for advancement. He realizes how many men he knew perished and how many he will meet who will meet the same end. He is lamenting transferring to Crimea. Mikhailov walks to the main boulevard an encounters his fellows - a small group imbued with basic decency as well as vice. In describing their hierarchy, it is pointed out how in any walk-of-life, there is someone higher – a so-called aristocrat. The various characters profiled include: Kalugin- an adjunct depicted as having a Gentleman’s demeanor; Prince Galstin - who holds the highest rank among this group; and Col. Neferdoff and Calvary Captain Praskukhin, who share the designation as two of the “122 men of the world” who volunteered from retirement. The group commiserates about their war stories and complaints. In describing the superficial natures of these men, Tolstoy paraphrases the first chapter of Ecclesiastes, similar to how he did when Andrei was lying on his back at Austerlitz. In a narrator’s voice, Tolstoy cries out: Vanity! vanity! Vanity everywhere, even on the brink of the grave, and among men ready to die for the highest convictions. Vanity! It must be a … peculiar malady of our century…Why did Homer and Shakespeare talk of love, of glory, of suffering, while the literature of our age is nothing but an endless narrative of aspiring elitists and vanity? Mikhailov, before his assignment, travels to his apartment and realizes his next trip to bastion would be his 13th. He felt he would be killed but would vacillate and fathom: “if I make it…..I will be promoted.” All the men had similar forebodings. Mikhailov then writes a farewell note to his father. His servant of 12 years, Nikita, was inebriated and prepared his Master. This included dressing Mikhailov and putting together a bundle of cheese and vodka. Mikhailov insults Nikita yet an affection is portrayed and both share a poignant goodbye. The other men went to Prince Galtsin’s quarters, where he has multiple servants and a piano. The men have tea and crackers and discuss tales of heroic actions and the latest updates on casualties. Prince Galstin then sat at his piano and Praskukhin sings along. The men know what lies ahead and make the best of their situation. As they leave for their posts, they notice the bombs overhead, with Kalugin observing how the “real work of the night has begun.” Tolstoy has the men to regard the visual of artillery fire as a celestial show. A Cossack soldier arrives and mentions how reinforcements are needed to replace the many killed. Kalugin follows the Cossack but Prince Galtsin doesn’t have to and walks the streets, where the cannon and rifle fire are palpable. He passes wounded soldiers, many carried on stretchers, others supported by the arms of a comrade. He was able to question one of them. The wounded met the onrush of a contingent of the Ottomans, yelling Allah! Nearly all of this unit were killed and the Ottomans took a valuable position. Galtsin was shocked and was nearly arguing with the man, hoping the hear that the enemy was repulsed. Others join in to relay the reality and Galtsin feels ashamed for impugning the man. He follows the wounded to a vast hall serving as a triage center, where after being looked at, some would get transported to a hospital and others to a chapel serving as a morgue. Tolstoy then takes us to the Horror inside.

Tolstoy affirms that only the will of the Deity, who is not dependent on time, can make sense of any monumental event or series of events. Tolstoy acknowledges his belief in an omnipotent God, who determines the Way. This majestic being is something we can never come close to understanding. Even the most renowned, like Napoleon, cannot veer humanity in the direction they intend. This is because man acts in his limited time and sphere. Thus, historians who attribute grand events to so-called “Great Men,” are engaged in a vain pursuit. This outlook is not surprising given Tolstoy’s affinity of Scripture, particularly the Wisdom literature of Job and Ecclesiastes. In analyzing the futility of attributing an effect to a purported cause, Tolstoy proffers that no command can be executed without an endless chain of proceeding orders. There is no such thing as a command that appears spontaneously. At best, we can say every command and event refers to a sliver in time that can only have influence over the fraction that comes after. Tolstoy suggests there is a general consensus that paramount decisions are made akin to the setting in motion of a clock -- such that a single command is often thought to govern a whole series of occurrences. For example, “Napoleon wished to invade Russia and did so in 1812.” However, Napoleon could never have commanded such a movement in one fell swoop. Instead, there were countless preceding missives and orders to his generals as well as the leaders of Vienna, Berlin and St. Petersburg. It is more accurate to say that events took on a direction that humanity, for some impossible to define reason, were ready to move in. The true reasons behind such movements are something only The Deity can comprehend. Tolstoy reflects that Napoleon was more of a natural adversary of England. Therefore, there was a greater chance of him coming up with a plan to invade England as opposed to crossing the Vistula River. Tolstoy posits that for any order to be executed -- in a philosophical sense – it is necessary that said order be possible. This is not only in the case in military endeavors, but in everyday transactions, for there are always a myriad of contingencies that could arise to prevent a command’s execution. With respect to invading Russia, there would have been many directives that if analyzed soberly and in hindsight, would never have been possible. We have this false conception that an event is caused by a command because what occurred is looked at as a plan coming together. Yet for every directive executed there are an immense number unexecuted and forgotten. Thus, Tolstoy goes back to his theme -- that it is virtually impossible to attribute causes to grand historical events. Tolstoy then turns to wrestling regarding the nature of power in looking at how commands and directives play out between related events, that is between very close in time events. Tolstoy finds it important to understand the roles of those giving and taking orders. In most endeavors, there are small numbers giving orders and large numbers subject to them. In military life, army leadership resembles a cone where the thickest part, the base, consists of the rank and file. Here exists the domain of the soldiers, who are told where to march and who to kill. On the next level are the noncommissioned officers, who give commands to soldiers below and get into action less frequently. An officer like Andrei customarily participates even less in the battles, but commands more. At the top, there is the commander like Kutuzov or Napoleon, who rarely takes direct part in the action. Tolstoy feels there is similar relation of people (between the few who give orders and the majority who take them) in most common activities—including in agriculture and trade. It is this relationship which constitutes the essence of power. For example, while Napoleon may be given credit or blame for the way a particular battle turned out, All the people in the cone have a voice! When the overwhelming majority figuratively decide to swim in the same direction, that is where the greatest power lies. Thus, Napoleon guided people toward where they were already headed. Yet behind it all is a Deity, whose guiding influence we will never fully grasp.

Note: There are NO spoilers in the the 2nd Epilogue to War & Peace, which is analyzed in bonus chapters. This final part of the novel involves a metaphysical exploration of the philosophy underlying W&P. This is a complex chapter easy to get lost in. Tolstoy wrestles with one of his common themes -- Are people led or are they ready to move and inevitably pops up someone to guide them in the direction they were going? Tolstoy emphasizes that the life of the nations is not symbolically expressed by the lives of great men such as like Napoleon, Czar Alexander or Kutuzov. Thus, Napoleon cannot be said to sum up the French people at the turn of the 19th Century. It is people themselves who are always the story of their times! Tolstoy proffers that prominent historians/academics tend to teach, using animals as an allegory for historical movements — a herd of cattle goes in a direction because the animal in front leads and the collective will of the others vest in that leader; and if the one at the top changes, it is because of another transfer of collective will. Tolstoy preaches there is a false appeal in believing any such theory. For the academic, watching the aforesaid herd, pays no attention to the varying quality of the cows in different parts of the field or the driving of the herdsman. Such assessments are made with the benefit of hindsight and attribution of bias. Academics tend to prop up figures they find important based on values they wish to advance. Historians are mistaken when they regard historical persons, from monarchs to artists to journalists, as expressions of their age. A significant aspect of power lies with the people. The responsibility for what happens in this world, remains with each of us. Tolstoy then explores concept of “power” and how that word is understood. When we look at what causes historical events, we cannot help but incorporate this force. “Power” is something you can’t see – as you can visualize a cannon or statue -- yet it exists. There is an ineffability of the word. Yet we all give “power” significance because of our ability to reason and life experience. Whenever a major event occurs, a man will appear by whose will it took place. To him we attach power. Examples given are: Napoleon III issues a decree and the French go to Mexico; the Kings of Prussia and Bismarck issue decrees and an army enters Bohemia; Napoleon I issues a decree Russia is invaded; Alexander I gives a command and the French submit to the Bourbons. However, reflection shows that it is more than such words that moves men. A prominent man’s orders are only part of the story, as there is also the physical act of the multitudes agreeing and going along. History shows that a monarch’s expression of the will often produces no effect, as such commands are often not executed; and other times the very opposite of what is ordered occurs. Power, from the standpoint of experience, is better defined as the relation that exists between the expression of someone’s will and the execution of that will by others. When there is a bilateral relationship – then there can be said to be power! Tolstoy ends the chapter referencing an ancient school of thought, where historians took for granted a divine role in human affairs. When a deity issues a command, the expression of that will is independent of time and is not caused by anything, for divinity is not controlled or tied down by our concept of power. He finds the ancients more useful than most academics with respect to studying the nature of power and causality.

Note: There are NO spoilers in the the 2nd Epilogue to War & Peace, which is analyzed in bonus chapters. This final part of the novel involves a metaphysical exploration of the philosophy underlying W&P. As Tolstoy (through Marya Bolkonskaya) expressed early in the novel, it is preferable to abide by the laws of Christ rather than academic sources. Tolstoy posits that history cannot take a step forward {meaning an understanding of history can’t be approached} until there is a return to belief in a divinity that interferes in human affairs. Though Tolstoy wants to advance his Faith in an all-knowing and omni-benevolent God, he realizes within the age of Enlightenment, such a switch is not possible. The subtext is to trust the wisdom of God more than “enlightened minds” trying to interpret history. Tolstoy attempts to conceptualize the concept of power and what he means is the force that produces historical events, a province formerly attributed to God. His memorable definition of power is “the collective will of a people transferred to a ruler by either express or unspoken consent.” Essentially, he sets up a nature of power only to challenge it. Tolstoy stresses that power comes from the people and is given away. He argues that we take for granted Napoleon could raise 600,000 men from a cross-section of Europe to go to war. In Tolstoy’s view, Napoleon had no supernatural qualities nor moral force. Though critical, Tolstoy feels studying Napolean leads to a closer understanding of the nature of power – even if the efforts lays bare our limitations. Tolstoy points out how various historical figures had immense influence but lacked morality. He references Louis XI and the Austrian diplomat, Klemens Von Metternich. He was searching for the set of qualities they had allowing them to wield such influence. Tolstoy then questions whether leaders regarded as subpar are representative of any collective will. He then acknowledges how mistakes, accidents and unexpected developments precipitate major events. Palace coups, for example, begin with designs of such a small group that it is difficult to associate them with a collective will. Rebellions can also begin with the most unlikely causes – such a Cossack rebellion led by Yemelyan Pugachev, which began after taxation on fishing. We are asked to consider: Are those who led such rebellions motivated by any collective will? When lands are conquered is it ever representative of the will of the people conquered? Tolstoy also ponders: when power is transferred (by a supposed collective will) is it conditionally or unconditionally transferred? He explores whether rulers break spoken or unspoken covenants and forfeit power. He expresses that leaders must be held to do the right thing but acknowledges the complexity of determining what is right. It is something of a magical formula. Such unknowns can include: taxing a population too much or too little; not granting freedoms vs. being too permissive; not keeping up with the times vs. respecting tradition. He appears to be comparing the values of a given time (such as “equality,” “enlightenment” and “progressivism”) with the timeless values found in Scripture. He speaks to the changing values of historians/academics and highlights how such perceptions effect how they judge events. Ultimately, Tolstoy sees a problem with historical analysis and presses on the inability to determine causes. He argues that the belief in a God who controls events, common among peasants, is just as valid as any level of historical analysis. This chapter is something of a challenge to intelligentsia. Tolstoy wrote 300+ chapters of W&P to express that it is impossible for humans to pin down the causes of Napoleon's invasion of Russia. Nevertheless amidst the tumult -- he was able to portray the greatness that can’t help but shine through the most trying of circumstances.

Envision a locomotive the way many would circa 1860. What technology! It wasn’t brand new (as they were invented in 1804) but it was a Monster of the age in terms of making the world move. Tolstoy envisions the locomotive as a symbol of great historical movements and uses this symbolism to describe the limitations historians face in finding causes for such movements. He posits three people viewing the mighty locomotive and trying to explain the cause of the movement. The first, Tolstoy deals with a simple peasant. The man is overawed by the train and thinks the Devil (or some divine force) makes it move. With no understanding of mechanics, he concludes that something beyond man is at play. That is all the simple man needs for an explanation. Tolstoy doesn't discount this view out-of-hand. Instead, he finds as much value in this posture as with more scientific thinkers. The second hypothetical person looking at the locomotive is a more sophisticated and inquisitive type from the Age of Enlightenment. He sees the wheels moving and estimates that is the cause. Like historians looking for the cause of a great event, the inquisitive man is attempting to break down possible causes of the train's movement but can not get at it with any efficiency. Instead, he only finds a piece of the puzzle. If he studies the matter long enough, he may also discover that the pressure of steam in the boiler is another cause. However, one can continue the exercise infinitely through asking what process generates steam and so on. Basically, the inquisitor will go from cause to cause and pick ones that stand out to him while neglecting ones just as valid. Tolstoy is trying to exemplify the limited analysis historians often perform. The third hypothetical observer notices awe-inspiring black smoke rising out of the train’s chimney. Seeing such a powerful manifestation, perhaps for the first time, this person may wrongly attribute the “cause” of the train's movement to something that stands out. Tolstoy is making the point: historians can mistake byproducts for causes. Tolstoy believes it is theoretically possible that some super-intelligence could see the big picture and know all the reasons for events. In other words, this all-seeing-eye could see everything that every happened at every point in history. But as to human capability, our vision only goes so far. Tolstoy describes that we generally describe the force that compels men to do something as “power,” but that word does not do the concept justice. One of his goals is to further explore "power" in this Epilogue. He believes a great deal of the "power" that makes our world move it is not understood. The same reasoning applies to movements of people. The causes are complex and often inaccessible. Tolstoy compares the process of trying to understand history to the types of money in circulation – paper money, metal coins and gold. He feels that most efforts of historians can be compared to paper money; not worth their weight and fungible. People may believe certain theories; but that is because of their Faith in a certain currency and not because of any true value of the theory. Gold is what Tolstoy seems to have stumbled upon in writing War & Peace. He gets to the essence of power through creating fictional characters symbolizing how each level of society reacted to the Napoleonic wars in a way that has stood the test of time. The second half of the19th century was a time of great consideration of metaphysics and Tolstoy was an essential part of that Locomotive.

Tolstoy presents his view on how academics view history. He essentially argues that historians have limited reliability. Tolstoy embarks on the path of grappling with the nature of power. He urges avoiding the trap of thinking Great Men move people. Instead, it is actually people (like You) who combine when they are willing to move. It is people (like You) who do all the heavy lifting and rarely get any of the credit. Tolstoy initially describes biographers of famous personages as well as authors of histories related to specific people of a country (say the French or Danish). He views these authors as attributing power to rulers or heroes in a superficial manner. This is the way he sees the way Julius Caesar or Napoleon are analyzed - as super-humans with incredible logistical knowledge who moved the course of humanity. He feels such works are limited by subjective views. Some works try to deify so-called Great Men but others are overly critical of them. Tolstoy believes accuracy is undermined through authors having an agenda. In present times, let’s take someone writing about the United States: Do they present it our history as a land of opportunity," or are they presenting it more in accord with the N.Y Times 1619 project? The question of history, in Tolstoy’s view, is too often determined by what lens the author wishes to see it through. For another example, Tolstoy would probably argue that Doris Kearns Goodwin set out to laud Lincoln when she wrote Team of Rivals: The Political Genius of Abraham Lincoln. She walked down a path of re-introducing the virtue of Lincoln to an audience ready to accept it. Tolstoy then examines “universalist” or generalist historians, who look beyond one person or country. These are non-specialists who look at the multiplicity of forces at work in leading to movements. Such authors make the effort to see the overall interplay of people and causes. Tolstoy finds it to be a noble attempt but still problematic. These academics would tend to say someone like Napoleon was destined to come along because of the excesses of the French Revolution. Or that a man of prudence and great leadership like George Washington was destined to rise from colonial aristocracy. Tolstoy believes such laudatory analysis involves too much bias and guesswork. He infers that historians usually know exactly where they want to wind up when they start a project. Tolstoy finds this generalist brand of historian gets one thing right: historical characters are products of their time and age. What is neglected, however, is the millions of citizens who in Napoleon’s day, who wished to support him or the various coalitions that united against him. There is a call to war but also an attraction of the people to the movements. Then Tolstoy takes on historians of arts and culture, meaning those who place significance on men with ideas that are thought to move people – such as Martin Luther (posting of his 95 Theses), Thomas Paine (writing Common Sense), or Marx & Engels (Communist Manifesto). He finds that even Rousseau’s Social Contract (from 1762) was connected to the moralities and whims of the time. Another contemporary example: what led to violence in the streets in 1789 in France or in 2020 in the United States; the stirring of people up through ideas?, or people just ready to take to the streets for reasons they though justified? Tolstoy posits that there is an atmosphere to an age, a collective experience ready for one message or another -- and the people who act are those who move mountains. Tolstoy assigned to this last class of academics the sins of arrogance and pride for believing just a tiny class of persons with ideas they think original have more influence than they actually have. To sum it up: War & Peace is about the invasion of 1812 and Tolstoy advances the notion that the effort was much more than Napoleon thinking the military effort was a good idea.

Tolstoy starts his infamous epilogue by giving his definition of the term "history" as the life of nations and humanity. He describes that a limitation of this definition is the inability of man to sufficiently pin down the history of any nation or human movement. He posits there is more to it than the scientific approach of piecing together what happened and then attributing motivations based on objective analysis. For the most part, piecing together history is inadequate guesswork, some efforts more eloquent than others. Tolstoy then focuses on ancient civilizations and how they dealt with explaining reasons for historical events. He suggests ancient historians tended to regard rulers (say a Julius Caesar, Hannibal, or famous King), as symbolic of the group ruled. Tolstoy thinks that approach has shortcomings. He then asks the most important question of the Second Epilogue, How do rulers get the masses to act as they wished? He doesn’t think it is just a question of acquiring the raw power to impose one's will. Rulers obviously held tremendous influence but Tolstoy feels they are figureheads. Notably, an under-appreciated amount of power is in the hands of the masses whose actions make up historical events. Said in another way: there is a symbiotic energy between the ruler and ruled. Tolstoy very much agreed with the ancients on not look too deeply for the reasoning of monumental events - they often believed that God willed events to be so. Tolstoy laments the role of God being cast aside by Enlightenment historians, especially in discussing the Napoleonic Wars. He doesn’t think the great movements between 1793-1812 can all be attributed to Napoleon -- despite the adulation Napoleon received during his own lifetime and from the generations that followed. Tolstoy is suggesting Napoleon (who was no great man of Faith) was a tool in God’s arsenal for His divine plan. Like the ancients, Tolstoy believed God acts, at least in part, to reward, punish or teach. Perhaps it was a reaction to his time’s attempt to remove the perception of God’s influence that led to creation of what is widely regarded as the greatest novel written.

This subset of episodes, will take on the twelve chapters of the second epilogue of War & Peace. This somewhat controversial epilogue is a presentation of the author’s philosophy that underlies the book. A common critique of the second epilogue is how confusing and apart it seems from the rest. The first epilogue revolves around the characters and resolves some of their journeys. The readers are then presented with an epilogue that takes on metaphysical questions – i.e., questions about the nature of reality, space and time, as well as change. It tackles the following issues: the of nature of history, nature of man, reverence for the Almighty, God as the ultimate mover of events (favoring Classical thinkers over Enlightenment ones), the relationship of the citizenry to the leaders they march off to war for, the lack of an ability to determine human causality, the nature of free will, as well as other mysteries of the ages. Tolstoy suggests never having the pride to think you can figure out something so complicated as the reasons, from a historical perspective, for the epic movements such as the Napoleonic wars and in particular, Bonaparte’s invasion of Russia. Instead, the epilogue highlights the author’s presumption that “Man is the creation of all powerful, all good, and all seeing God,” who moves the course of history in accord with His mysterious Will. That ideal drove Tolstoy and his novel. The epilogue, as well as the very title of the book, also explores the duality of man. War and peace, for example, like light and darkness, is within each of us. Tolstoy posits we are all connected, in that we often make individual choices in similar patterns with comparable motivations. Therefore, when working together (knowingly or not) we can pull the world in virtuous or troublesome destinations (including war-mongering or peace-making). Another lesson of the epilogue: try not to let you inner state of war overtake your peaceful nature more than necessary; such decisions can effect you more than you realize. Tolstoy discusses 'free will' in this epilogue. He questions how free we can be when so many circumstances constrain our freedom. For example, if we have three young children - how free can one be with respect to a subset of their decisions. And when discussing free will, are we even talking about the freedom to do something (like live in some unorthodox way); or freedom from something (like poverty or an oppressive leader). No matter, Tolstoy argues human actions, as the ancients posited, all work to effect God’s ultimate purpose, which we can explore but have lack the complete ability to understand. In Tolstoy's own exploration of these heady concepts, he created one of the great novels of the ages.

Andrei lies moaning from a head wound on the Pratzen Heights, symbolic of the numerous souls dead or wounded. The depiction of Andrei chasing military glory but falling short, was influenced by how Kutuzov historically lost his son-in-law, Theodor von Tiesenhausen, at Austerlitz. Kutuzov sent the young noble, who served as an aide-de-camp, to rally retreating troops. After Tiesenhausen seized a fallen standard and ran forward, he was quickly shot in the chest. Frenchmen swarmed him and there was a barbaric scuffle over his military decorations. When Napoleon took a victory lap, he noticed the “glorious” sight of the barely alive Tiesenhausen still holding the flagstaff. Andrei is a physical causality but was imbued with a realization of the baseness of war. Going in and out of consciousness, Andrei held onto the value of his vision. Unable to open his eyes, he thought, “Where is it, that lofty sky that I did not know?” He did not remember the intricate battle plans nor leading the charge. What brought him back to earth was the burning pain in his head. When he heard the sound of approaching horses and French voices, he finally opened his eyes and captured the clouds floating majestically and the blue infinity beyond. Tolstoy has Napolean have a fictional interaction with Andrei while making his triumphant walk. Napolean comments on the gallantry of the fallen, notably a grenadier whose body was swelling and blackening. It is sinking in for Andrei that there is very little admirable about such a man’s life being wasted. Napolean approached Andrei, whose hand was still on the flagstaff and asserted: “That’s a fine death!” Andrei now regarded Bonaparte’s words as the buzzing of a fly. Napoleon seemed insignificant compared with the sky, which is representative of the Almighty. Andrei desperately wished to be assisted back to life. He collected all his strength to utter a sickly groan. Napoleon immediately ordered Andrei to be treated and rode on met Marshal Lannes, who congratulated his Master. Andrei remained in agony, but regained his bearings after he was placed with other wounded officers. Napoleon encounters Andrei once again when he inspects the overflow of valuable prisoners. The senior officer captured was Nikolai Repnin-Volkonsky, an Imperial Guard Colonel, who Andrei recognized from Petersburg. Napoleon commended Repnin, saying: “Your regiment was honorable in fulfilling their duty.” Repnin responded “The praise of a great commander is a soldier’s highest reward.” More kind yet superficial words were bestowed on a young lieutenant. Napoleon then sees and remembers Andrei and calls him, “mon brave” an old fashioned term meaning “my good fellow” or “my good man.” Andrei remains silent on the only occasion he would meet his one-time idol. All the vain interests that absorbed men like Napoleon now seemed so insignificant. This is Tolstoy’s comment on the value of military glory. Andrei thought of the pettiness of such men compared to the lofty, equitable and gentle sky. His mind was on a plane of solemnity. Various factors led to his mental state including: the loss of blood, nearness of death and appreciation of the divine. Napoleon instructed that Andrei and others be cared for by his own doctor and bid Prince Repnin, Au revoir!” He galloped away -- shining with satisfaction. Frenchmen who had carried Andrei had stolen the gold icon his sister gave him. However, seeing the favor the Emperor bestowed, quickly returned the charm. Beholding the icon made Andrei consider: “it would be good if everything were as clear and simple as it seems to Mar’ya.” He yearns to know where he should seek for help and what to expect beyond the grave. Andrei considered the nature of the Almighty and how to address his prayers. Andrei realizes that he understands the greatness of something incomprehensible but paramount. He conceptualized the Almighty’s ineffable power and contrasted this with image on his amulet, which is a critique of graven images. When Andrei’s stretcher moved on, he again felt pain that was difficult to endure. He experienced visions of his father, wife, sister, and future son. He considered his quiet home life and peaceful happiness that he never appreciated. He realized only the heavens promised a similar peace. Upon examination, Napoleon’s doctor pronounced a grave prognosis: “He is a nervous and sickly subject…and will not recover.” Inevitably, the doctor and War Machine moved on leaving Andrei and others to the care of the inhabitants of the district. And that finally ends analysis Book 1 and about 25% of the novel.

This project is approaching the final chapter of Book I, a critical juncture with Napoleon victorious and holding the greatest reputation man can bestow. Even after Napoleon suffered a string of defeats years later, his reputation was colossal when Tolstoy wrote War &Peace. Many readers coming to this book do not realize Napoleon is something of a dark force utilized to portray how to view those who send others to die for a ruler's vain ambitions. In this regard, it is important to recall how Tolstoy was influenced the Bible book of Ecclesiastes, which comments on vainglorious ambitions as well as the meaningless of everything without an appreciation of the Transcendent. Tolstoy is reaching to you from another age, highlighting how you can recognize War’s profane nature compared to what is above. Tolstoy recognizes how calls to war are a siren’s song as well as how easy it is to get young men to answer, usually via a small bounty or appeal to patriotism. Acknowledging the idiosyncratic pacifist Tolstoy became, his work still recognizes how a defensive war is more justified than the type of conflict at Austerlitz. Further, Tolstoy was exceptionally critical of his own government, which makes War & Peace so relevant in our times. In this spirit, I bring up the following story: Upon Russia’s mass invasion of Ukraine in early 2022, Aleksei Nikitin, a regular citizen from Moscow, tried to make a difference and stood up to power. Aleksei recognized crossing his neighbors’ border and unleashing the largest land invasion since the Second World War is the type of aggression Tolstoy condemned. Aleksei brought Tolstoy into his public protest by writing an excerpt on a poster-board from the 1894 essay “On Patriotism.” It read: “Patriotism is the abdication of human dignity, reason and conscience and a slavish submission to those in power. Patriotism is slavery.” It was a controversial sentiment then and remains so. This essay described Tolstoy’s conception of patriotism -- in that militaristic age -- as a vulgar sentiment used by governments to justify their war machines. He argued it is opposite to what he took out of the Bible, namely Christian brotherhood. Aleksei’s use of the essay speaks to what Tolstoy has Andrei grasp as Andrei views the senselessness of a red-haired Russian artilleryman squaring off against a French attacker – both Christians struggling over a mop as if it was the Holy Grail. Tolstoy was speaking to the baseness of what he witnessed, as a soldier on campaigns in Chechnya and being on the losing side of the Crimean War. Tolstoy points out that men mercilessly hacking one another have a great deal more in common with one another – than the men of supposedly higher status, who sent them to die. Tolstoy described, in another part of the essay: "It is even impossible to imagine, how and for what, Russian and German workmen, peacefully and conjointly working on the frontiers or in the capitals, should clash. And much less easily can one imagine animosity between some Kazan peasant who supplies Germans with wheat, and a German who supplies the peasant with scythes and machines. It is the same between French, German, and Italian workmen." Aleksei Nikitin was arrested and the Moscow police statement on the proceeding was carefully worded and likely came from their Intelligence Service: “This writer’s (Tolstoy’s) works and articles were harshly critical of the ruling (Czarist) regime, including justifying violence against the government. Therefore, the actions of Citizen Nikitin should be interpreted as a call to overthrow the existing authorities and also to follow the ideology of Tolstoy.” This was a revealing acknowledgement that the philosophy of Tolstoy is threat to a system throwing countless men into their War Machine. Nevertheless, the Russian government succeeded in stunting that portion of citizenry who were in line with the ideals of Tolstoy. Once the internal dissension was suppressed, the Russian leader found it prudent to create, a “Tolstoy Peace Prize.” Over his career, Tolstoy brought out how such aggression brings out an ever-lasting hatred by those affected. Some of such work involves Chechnya. One of Tolstoy’s first short stories, “The Raid,” from 1853, explored amidst the Chechen landscape -- what motivates man to kill his fellow. Further, one of his final works, “Hadji Murad,” tells the story of brutal campaigns against Chechnya, which involved the burning of villages, fields, and livestock. Tolstoy took to heart how raids would leave the helpless crying in despair. He recognized, how such aggression promotes a natural resistance, like many Chechens have demonstrated for generations; and like the overwhelming majority of Ukrainians have capably demonstrated in our times.

This pivotal short section depicts one of the iconic episodes of Austerlitz, namely retreating Russian forces falling through ice amidst an artillery barrage. French General Adolphe Marbot provided a contemporary report on this phenomenon and Czar Alexander appears to have relayed to his inner circle, years later in 1814, that he watched helplessly as thousands of his men perish in the frozen waters. A large number is realistic given accepted casualty figures. Estimates of allied losses indicate 12,000 Russians and 4,000 Austrians dead or wounded and 12,000 captured. French losses were around 1,400 killed and 7,000 injured. For nearly a century, which covers the period Tolstoy was writing, it was accepted that thousands perished in this dramatic way. However, academic scrutiny on the episode gained steam in 1902 when Oxford historian Reginald L. Poole published an influential article in The English Historical Review. Poole notes that accounts of the weather in the local Oberamtmann newspaper for early December 1805 indicate the ice was relatively thin, so Poole suggests a vast army retreat would not have been realistic. Nevertheless, a report of relatively thin ice is...relative...and the weather was naturally subject to getting colder from publication. Poole also notes that French engineers drained some of the waters within a few days of the battle, whereupon they discovered 30 cannons and the remains of 150 horses but only three people. Still there are few specifics on the actual draining. While there remains a great deal of mystery surrounding the event, cannon balls assuredly pierced the ice, leading to a grand spectacle. Tolstoy puts the fictional Fedor Dolokhov in this mix of the columns retreating in the southern portion of the field after the fight was lost at all points. Dolokhov is among a group crowding around an escape route by a dam and the attendant waters near the Village of Augesd (Awg-est or Ow-gest), which was reachable by cannon fire from the Pratzen Heights. It was within the rules of engagement to fire at such retreating soldiers, provided it was done at active combatants and not those surrendering or too injured to pose a threat. Tolstoy makes a critical contrast, remarking how this area only knew peace for generations. On the quant dam, which also served as a bridge, an old miller would ordinarily sit in his tasseled cap fishing with his grandson nearby while locals steered their two-horse carts back and forth with goods. On December 2, 1805, however, terrified men crowded together, nearly crushing one another amidst an artillery barrage. Many were struck down like bowling pins. At intervals, they took fire and some went down while others were forced to step over the dead. It was something of a macabre carnival game. Dolokhov is a character men & women love and actors would love to play. Youthful, masculine, handsome, with a dark and wild side. Not wealthy and of privilege like the plentiful assembly of aristocrats Tolstoy crafts, Dolokhov still reflects a side of Tolstoy as in the author’s younger days he was quite the debauched gambler. Dolokhov had been wounded and imbued with survival instincts. He was escaping with some ten men of his company, representing all that was left of it. His contingent got stymied at an approach because a dead horse had to be dragged out of the narrow path. Soon enough, a cannon ball takes someone out behind Dolokov and another fell in front of him, so Dolokhov was splashed with blood. He is desperate. Each of these men thought, “If we get a hundred yards further and we are saved, but shall we remain here another two minutes….it is certain death.” Dolokhov frees himself, leaves the edge of the dam and runs onto the ice. Come this way!” he beckons, jumping about the ice which creaked under him. “It bears!” The ice swayed and it was plain that it would give way under his weight alone. The men hesitated in stepping onto the ice, but realized they had no choice. A nearby general on horseback tried to say something but was quickly taken out and it was an ugly death. Seeing their leader fall, the men realized they had to try and ran onto that ice. So they went, running and sliding away from danger. Very soon, the ice gave way. First under one man, then another, and on and on. Cries of horror were heard as a group went down in a great mass and struggled in the freezing water. Tolstoy puts a number as forty men, which is well within reason. As the chapter ends, cannon balls continue to pound the ice.

This episode explores the background of the Czar reduced to tears after the Battle of Austerlitz. Many readers know little of the ruler Nicholas Rostov and countless officers were so devoted to. Over the last few years, you may have watched Ridley Scott’s film “Napoleon.” I argue that the casting of Alexandr embraces a view of the filmmaker that aligns with the perception the fictional Nicholas held. Edouard Philipponnat as Alexandr was the standout in the film and embraced a youthful exuberance. Handsome and dashing, Scott captured the energy that Tolstoy depicts. Should you view a portrait of Alexandr, however, you will not see the equivalent of an Edourd or Brad Pitt. You will discover something that fits of Alexander Pushkin’s description of Alexandr of being a “Balding Dandy.” Pushkin was exiled by Alexandr for anti-Czarist sentiments. Napoleon even wrote Josephine in 1807: “I am satisfied with Alexander and he ought to be satisfied with me. If he were a woman, I think I would make him my mistress.” Historically, the opposite may have been true. Alexandr may have taken up an affair with Josephine and assuredly did so with numerous beautiful and intelligent woman of the aristocracy. More Importantly, Alexandr has a fascinating background which contributes to turning him into the lamenting Sovereign at Austerlitz. Alexander’s grandfather was Peter III, who was born in northern German speaking lands and was also, for a time, the presumptive heir for the throne of Sweden. Peter served as Czar for only six months before his wife, Catherine, plotted to overthrew him in 1762. Catherine was Germanic royalty who converted to Orthodoxy upon her marriage. Catherine moved quickly against her husband, who she regarded as lacking sense and maturity. She also considered him a drunk. Nevertheless, some German historians find Peter to be cultured and open-minded. Peter did have an openness to adapting European technology and placed the sciences on a prestigious level. After the coup, Peter was held in a prison and likely strangled. The official account was that the cause was a stroke or bowel obstruction. Catherine then ruled as regent for her son Paul, but never gave up any authority when Paul became of-age, around 1772. Catherine alleged, in memoirs and conversation, that Paul was sired by one of her lovers, which would mean Alexandr was not of any so-called Royal blood. Nevertheless, she took notable efforts to educate Paul’s two sons, Alexandr and Konstantin. When Catherine died in 1796, Paul assumed leadership and met a similar end as Peter after a five year reign. Paul shares a complex reputation and was quite notably influenced by his love of Prussia, especially their military. Paul was most assuredly strangled in 1801. This second murder of a Czar within 40 years is what brought Alexandr (then 23) to the throne. As referenced, Catherine dedicated time to instruct Alexandr and his brother Konstantin. She would relay the importance of the French Revolution and read to them the Declaration of the Rights of Man. More consequentially, Catherine assigned Alexandr a Swiss tutor, Frédéric-César de La Harpe, to teach Enlightenment ideals. For generations, aristocratic households were commonly hiring French and Swiss educators. Peter the Great had a Swiss soldier and advisor, François Lefort, instruct him on how to follow the path of Europe. Alexandr took to his Swiss tutor and had a keen mind toward European ways. As soon as he became Czar, he put aspects of his education into practice, including creating an intellectual inner circle. Early on, this close group planned various reforms such as easing censorship and planning for a Constitution of the type sprouting around Europe. There was a recognition that serfs were the agricultural and military backbone – but this system would eventually have to change. Alexandr desired phase out serfdom but it didn’t end until 1861. Alexandr went as far as issuing a voluntary decree - noting landowners could free their serfs and give them land if they desired. He understood what could and could not be done. Reports are that Alexandr considered himself to be inspired – something of a Chosen One. He felt it was ordained that he would prevail at the pivotal battle at Austerlitz, which he chose to be present at. The all-encompassing loss caused him to become utterly devastated.

Nicholas continues on his mission looking for Kutuzov or the Emperor. He notices broken carriages along the roads and hordes of troops in worsening levels of disorganization. Many are wounded. He reaches an area safe from cannon fire coming from the Pratzen Heights and slows to realize that there is no point to what he is doing. He has nothing of import to convey to the Tsar or to Kutuzov, should they remain alive. He learns the direction surviving commanders headed and hears conflicting reports about Alexandr being wounded or killed. One soldier, however, expressed confidence the Tsar was driven away at full speed in a carriage pulled by his customary driver, Illya Ivanych, Rostov rides on -- not knowing how to direct himself. He took in the scenery and local architecture, including a church, symbolic of the sacred blotted out by War. He felt that if the Emperor was slain, he should have no desire to save himself. The point is that Alexandr, who does not know the thousands of young men he sent to their ignominious end, remains Rostov’s end-and-be-all. This is a contrast to Andrei, who finally realizes there is something much greater than ambitious rulers. Rostov soon passes the battlefield where the largest number perished. Here, “men lied like heaps of manure on well-kept plowland.” There were 10 to 15 dead to each couple of acres. Those wounded stumbled together in twos and threes and Rostov absorbed their screams and groans. Rostov became noticeable on his horse and some French on higher ground trained a few shots at him. He was snapped out of his moroseness through thinking of his mother’s love. Once again Nicholas adopts the instincts of a rabbit who senses danger and escapes. He made it to a small village many utilized as a Haven. Upon hearing more rumors about the Emperor, he continued on for a couple of miles, coming to a ditch where he saw two men who seemed out of place on their grand horses. Another stood by a tree and Rostov noticed it was his Monarch. Such a scenario may be thought fictional or symbolic – namely, Alexandr becoming virtually alone in the disorder of the retreat. However, there is enough truth in this description to commend Tolstoy for weaving fiction and history in the way that Shakespeare did with his Histories, where the Bard’s writing often stands for a greater truth. What happened historically was that the struggle for The Pratzen Heights decided the Battle and Kutuzov remained at the center of the conflict for as long as prudent. Both Kutozov and even Weyrother were shouting orders, trying to rally men, dispatching messengers -- all actions of reputable commanders. Amidst the chaos, there are reports that Alexander was separated from his Guard and wound up with some of the survivors of Gen. Miloradovich’s brigade. At one point, Alexandr was found “on damp ground under a tree, with his face covered with a handkerchief, bitterly crying.” This was the account of Gen. Carl Freidrich Graf von Toll. The sentiment portrayed by Tolstoy is that Alexandr started the day envisioning he would be at the head of His army, like a Greek Warrior-King, at least at the moment of Triumph. Yet the accounts are that he was reduced to the image of something like……Job among the ash heap. So Tolstoy depicts Rostov as having the opportunity to comfort his Beloved. Yet Tolstoy does NOT have Nicholas take that step. Instead, Rostov backs down with the fear of a youth who cannot approach his true love. Though Nicholas had played over a million speeches in his head on what he would say to Alexandr should they meet, he was now immobilized by fear. Instead he convinces himself of the imprudence of an approach at such an unpleasant moment. He felt any such interaction should be reserved for when Rostov was dying on the field and there would be a poetic moment of thanks. Tolstoy then has Von Toll come into the scene and upon seeing the Emperor, comfort him while the two spend a few moments under an apple tree.

Tolstoy hardly ends the novel with the revelation imparted to Andrei. Instead, it continues for another 1000 pages, in substantial part, exploring the triviality so paramount to those without such vision. The story moves back to earth to focus on the historic disgrace for Alexandr and Francis. It is entirely the opposite for Napoleon, who came out on top of The Battle of Three Emperors. Yet the bravado with which men enter a fight for those like Bonaparte, has lost some of the luster. So many of us can be brought to both planes by the right presentation – either recognizing the responsibility of answering a call to arms; or appreciating the Sublime. Tolstoy is presenting this contrast as one of the great humanists, who wrote his masterpiece 60 years after Austerlitz. The segue of Nicholas taking on his futile mission with such fervor after Andrei takes in the infinite sky, highlights how vulnerable we are to mindsets of emperor worship and patriotic devotion – more so at younger ages without the experience of war. Just before the battle, Andrei was imagining, ”this will be the battle that makes me.” He is thinking of how the Battle of Toulon, in 1793, was a springboard for Napoleon. Tolstoy is showing how common it is for decent men to reach the point they will sacrifice their lives for military glory. The point of this episode is to appreciate how easy a man can pulled into that mindset; and it is one of the great lessons of War & Peace. This episode brings you through a few examples of such calls, in fiction and history. What often comes to mind for the American audience is the speech in Braveheart – iconic fiction based on the historic Battle of Stirling Bridge (1297), written by Randall Wallace & Mel Gibson and naturally delivered by Mel. Napoleon assuredly had the knack of attracting men to risk their lives for his vision and also referenced is one of his inspirational appeals that came shortly after the Battle of Lodi in 1796: “To you, soldiers, will belong the immortal honor of redeeming the fairest portion of Europe. The French people, free and respected by the whole world, shall give to Europe a glorious peace, which shall indemnify it for all the sacrifices which it has borne the last six years. Then, by your own firesides you shall repose and your fellow citizens, when they point out any one of you, shall say: ‘He belonged to the army of Italy that fought in the Italian campaign!’” The last reference is to a speech attributed to St. Bernard, an abbot from Clairvaux, France, in the 1100s, where he motivated the Knights of the Second Crusade in a Palm Sunday speech: “Christian warriors, He who gave His life for you, today demands yours in return. These are struggles worthy of you, combats in which it is glorious to conquer and advantageous to die. Illustrious knights, generous defenders of the Cross, remember your fathers, who conquered Jerusalem, and whose names are inscribed in Heaven. Abandon the things that perish, to gather unfading palms and conquer a Kingdom that has no end.” These are appeals to a sense of manhood and patriotism, and once again it is the spirit Andrei relinquishes. He is now is given a more ideal, godly and transcendent point of view.

Tolstoy brings you back from Andrei’s spiritual revelation to focus on Nicholas Rostov, who is imbued with the Confidence of Youth. General Bagratión had assented to Rostov’s request to be brought off the reserve line and selected him for a fool’s errand – as Bagratión is presented as understanding the futility of the attack. This is in contrast to Prince Dolgorúkov, part of Alexandr’s inner circle, who felt victory was ordained. Dolgorúkov holds much of the blame for this debacle as reports indicate that he told Alexandr it would be cowardice to avoid confrontation. Rostov is to be sent to either Kutuzov or the Emperor, who are thought to be near the Pratzen Heights, under the rubric of seeking guidance on how to advance. However, Bragratión knows that the distance the messenger would cover would likely have him killed or never be able to deliver the message. Rostov perceived no such danger and was overjoyed to be selected. He serves the literary vehicle that brings you through a historic military folly. Nicholas moved along Bagratión’s troops and then came upon General Feodor Uvárov’s revered cavalry, where he noticed fine horseman preparing for battle. Uvárov commanded a reserve force of the Imperial Guard. As Rostov moved passed them, the sound of cannon and musketry was growing louder. Around Pratzen, volleys of musketry and cannon from the slopes merged into a general roar. Rostov took it in, including the sight of masses of infantry moving in all directions and getting into action. Soon came first sign of trouble, which didn’t really register -- there were Uhlans, a light calvary unit, in disordered ranks retreating from an attack. At that point Tolstoy has Rostov sense the rolling thunder of Uvárov’s famous charge. He perceived the thud of hooves and jingle of weaponry. As Rostov turned toward the horsemen in the open expanse of field he shared, he realized there was a stampede headed straight toward him. He barely gets out of their way amidst the order to charge. The look of these men was of complete earnestness. Yet the reality was most were headed to their demise. Rostov had to turn his horse and briefly join them, to avoid getting crushed. One of the last to pass scowled at what he considered an idiot impeding the way. As the calvary passed, he could here the common chant of “Ura!” He got his bearings and soon noticed much of the calvary likely reached their destination as their ranks were mixed with some foreign cavalry. He could see nothing more, as smoke from cannon fire enveloped everything and he continued on. Tolstly points out, in a nod to military history that this brilliant charge amazed the French themselves – and for a few moments broke the French infantry and captured a regimental eagle. Rostov was afforded the luxury of envying doomed men he thought glorious. He considered that while these men had positions of honor, he may get to see the Emperor again. Through a mix of men running about and cannon fire, he heard a voice he recognized as Boris. Boris shared the elated smile of a vane young man who survives fire for the first time and relayed his own success story, that his Imperial Guard unit unexpectedly got into action after they took fire and drove the French back. Rostov soon reveals how he is delivering a letter to “His Majesty.” He clarifies he means Alexandr, not the nearby Grand Duke, who commands the Guard. Their common friend Berg gets in this mix and the three are united. Berg cannot stop bragging about a minor wound to his hand, referencing his own lineage from a warrior class of German knights When Rostov extricated himself from this reunion reality soon hit. It was all coming together – the retreating Uhlans, Boris’s unit involved in action, and the French getting behind parts of his army around Pratzen. He later learned that large sections of Russian and Austrian soldiers had been firing at one another. When he again observed Russian and Austrian forces running in confused crowds, he was seized by a panic and started to sense the battle was lost. He realized how many were dying and that perhaps he would meet the same end. Rostov heard, in different languages, blame being cast. He considered, “My God! What does it all mean?” He could not believe these soldiers could act so dishonorably when the Emperor might see them. Finally, he noticed French cannons and troops on the Pratzen Heights themselves, in the spot where he had been ordered to look for Kutuzov.

This paramount chapter involves Tolstoy using Andrei to grasp the transcendence of the Almighty God which the author revered. More particularly, when Andrei takes in the vastness of the sky, Tolstoy conveys the vulgarity of this earth compared with His infinite nature. Further, Tolstoy lays bare the senselessness of war for most of the men shooting and hacking each other. There will be a depiction of opposing soldiers in a tug-of-war over the most insignificant object – a broomstick, highlighting the meaninglessness many sacrifice themselves for. The chapter begins with the battle intensifying while Kutuzov was riding near the rear of a column down a hill. He stops at a deserted house on a majestic hell, symbolic of war interrupting civility. Fog was clearing as some of the French became more visible, at first over a mile away. However, additional forces were quickly found to be ascending toward them. Upon noticing, the expressions on most of the Russian officers changed to Holy terror. Andrei embraces the moment, thinking “Here it is! The decisive moment! My turn has come!” Soon a cloud of smoke from a blast of artillery spread all round. A voice of naïve terror shouted, “Brothers! All is lost!” There was an instantaneous break of morale and the men ran in different directions. Andrei took in bewildering sights as Kutuzov was encouraged to leave and avoid being taken prisoner. With stoicism, Kutuzov wiped away blood flowing from his cheek and noted the true damage was to his army by reason of their humiliating performance. He vainly called for the soldiers to maintain discipline. Kutuzov rode toward the sound of artillery – where one of the batteries was under attack. The French noticed Kutuzov and fired at him. There were many casualties, including an officer carrying the Battle Flag. Kutuzov called out to Andrei with a trembling voice. Andrei, feeling shame and rage leapt from his horse and picked up the fallen Standard. He called to his men, in a piercing scream: “Forward, lads!” He was not physically powerful and was challenged in carrying the flag. Yet he proceeded with full confidence his army would follow him, which they did and soon overtook him. A burly sergeant assisted with the swaying flag, but was killed. Undaunted, Andrei stumbled along. He embraced being the primary target and essentially dared the enemy to hit him. He reached within 20 paces of French soldiers seizing horses and canons as prizes. Through the whistle of bullets and men dropping, he focused on reaching the seized Battery. However, he became distracted by the most unusual but symbolic confrontation -- a red-haired gunner from his army in a tall cylindrical hat comically askew pulling one end of a cleaning mop while a French soldier tugged at the other. He took in their contorted faces filled with venom. Andrei realized the absurdity and that the gunner should have retreated, as there were other Frenchmen nearby. His comrade won the broom but Tolstoy notes the man’s fate was about to be decided when Andrei lost the moment though taking a heavy blow. He felt as if hit on the head with the full swing of a bludgeon. The pain was disorienting but he felt worse about not seeing how the fracas over the broom ended. The Comment is that all such efforts, for the men doing the hacking and dying, are as useless as fighting over a broom. Andrei’s perception slows down and as he falls on his back. “What’s this? Am I falling? My legs are giving way…” He opens his eyes, hoping to see the struggle for the mop. However, he absorbed what couldn’t be more opposite -- something vast and Godly, Above him there was only the sky—the lofty sky, not clear yet immeasurably lofty, with gray clouds gliding. “How quiet, peaceful, and solemn; not as it was as I ran. No, not as we ran, shouting and fighting, not at all as the gunner and the Frenchman with terrified faces struggling for the mop. How differently do those clouds glide across that lofty infinite sky! How was it I did not see that sky before? And how happy I am to have found it at last!" This is where Tolstoy briefly quotes and paraphrases Ecclesiastes: "Yes! All is vanity, all falsehood except that infinite sky. There is nothing, nothing but that. But even it does not exist, there is nothing but quiet and peace." And Andrei thanks God for this realization!