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.

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.

Part III of Book I focuses on Pierre. We are taken off the battlefield. The attitude has changed toward the new Count Bezúkhov, with this section serving as a critique on the vane pursuits of men within Tolstoy’s own class.

Instead of retreating after being foiled in his attempt to usurp Pierre’s estate, Vassily uses his proximity to become Pierre’s mentor.  He even uses his daughter, Hélène, to attract  Pierre’s focus. The description of Vassily is as a true man of this world. His heart is so corrupted, he barely notices the sins he commits throughout the day.  Schemes consume his existence. He had dozens going on at once, in various stages.  

Pierre’s life is turned on its head – no longer neglected, he was always signing papers, making appearances and visiting his estates. So quickly did those who thought him foolish become convinced of his nobility. He was lured into a state of intoxication - as though he were the center of an important movement. Vassily procured fancy titles for Pierre, one being “Gentleman of the Bedchamber” Камер-юнкер (Kammer-junker) which conferred the status of “Councilor of State.” 

 Pierre’s relationship changed with the “three princesses” who lived in his father’s mansion. He showed them mercy, letting them stay and granting Vassily’s request to endow the eldest with 30,000 rubles.  It seemed so natural to Pierre that everyone love him and he could not help believing their sincerity.

Vassily had the air of a man oppressed by business, who would not leave a helpless youth to the designs of OTHER rogues. Vassily had Pierre accompany him to St. Petersburg, on the way telling him a “diplomatic career now lies open before you.”  As he used pleasing words, Vissily siphoned thousands of rubles collected from Pierre’s peasants.

 Pierre found a similar atmosphere in Petersburg -- bewilderment, bustle and continual expectation among aristocratic acquaintances.    Many of his friends were confronting the War.  He was aware that Anatole, Andrei and Dólokhov were abroad. Much of his time was taken up with dinners and balls but chiefly he was at Prince Vasssily’s, mansion, spending time with Hélène. 

Pierre received one of Anna Pávlovna’s invitations, which noted “You will find the beautiful Hélène here.” Pierre realized the growing link between them was noticed by others. Anna, who hosted the event that got the novel moving, was symbolic of the change of attitude. She now found Pierre charming in every way. At her gala, a diplomat from Berlin explained the latest alliance between Czar Alexander and Frederik William III, who conferred in Potsdam.

Anna arranges for Pierre to stay close to Hélène. “Isn’t she exquisite?” Anna said to Pierre, as she glided about. “And how she carries herself! Such masterly perfection of manner! Happy the man who wins her!”  Anna ensures they will both entertain Anna’s elderly aunt. Hélène quickly gave Pierre her smile that none forgot. The conversation among the three was dull – as the aunt spoke of a collection of snuffboxes.

Helene wore a lovely dress cut very low at front and back.  The two were very close and had an unspoken conversation. “So, you have never noticed before how beautiful I am? Yes, I am a woman who may belong to anyone—to you too.”  At that moment Pierre felt that Hélène must be his wife. Hélène already had power over him and he realized this may NOT be a good thing.

Pierre could not sleep that night. He considered,  “Yes, she’s good looking…but there is something vile, something wrong… I have been told that her brother Anatole was in love with her and she with him, that there was quite a scandal and that that’s why he was sent away.  And Hippolyte is her brother... Prince Vassily is her father... It’s bad....”  In considering her worthlessness, he nevertheless envisioned Hélène as his wife and how she would love him and become quite different.

This episode examines Tolstoy’s influences in the sense that Tolstoy takes attitudes from major events of his day, including the humiliating defeat of the Crimean War of 1856, and imposes them on his characters.  Tolstoy was conceptualizing and writing War & Peace in the 1850s and 60s, when liberal reforms were being pursued. Tolstoy therefore brings an idealism to his rendition of the victory over Napoleon in 1812.  The episode also has a brief review of Part 1 of Book 1 to ready the reader to take on Part 3, as many major characters were absent from Part 2.

Over the first two parts of Book 1, there is a contrast of storing-telling. Part 1 involves the more relatable domestic affairs of high society combined with an eye toward Napoleon’s advances in the Summer of 1805.  Part 2 is a historical exposition of the acceleration of the War of the Third Coalition during the Fall of 1805.    

War & Peace is the product of thousands of pages of drafts as well as the unfinished works, “The Distant Field” and “The Decembrists.”   Greater exposition of this process is detailed on the 1996 book by Kathryn B. Feuer, “Tolstoy and the Genesis of War and Peace.”

The Decembrist Revolt was a failed movement some characters of War & Peace would have been involved with after the story ends. The rebellion occurred after Emperor Alexander died in 1825 and one of the goals was to replace the autocracy of Czar with a Constitutional monarchy.  Many involved were executed or sent to Siberia. Exiles were only released around 1856, when reforms sought in 1825 were being re-evaluated. In one sense, this novel involves men similar to Pierre and Andrei, who could not imagine what they were being thrown into in 1805 and ultimately became Decembrists 20 years later.

Pierre, who can described as "the heart" of the novel, unpredictably inherits the largest fortune in the country, and was exposed to the ideals of his time. He pursued the goal of absorbing and implementing the best of reforms. That is perhaps the greatest hero journey of War & Peace.

Tolstoy also takes the reader back to when serfs were conscripted to fight in the major wars, which he witnessed the final stages of. Ironically, it was the serfs contact with Central and Western Europe that highlighted Russian authorities could no longer keep citizens tied to the land. Later in the novel, you will meet the symbolic Platon Karataev, a simple serf, who lives in the moment with a wisdom and decency that escapes members of Tolstoy’s class.

Yet the enduring nature of this work is how it did not result in a novel centered on politics or history, but became a work of morality and even spirituality.  

War & Peace also presents number of everlasting contrasts beyond class, including traditional values v. reform and urban/government centers v. the countryside.   The latter aspect involves Tolstoy’s descriptions of cultured landowners, who he believes should manage their estates as if there are Garden of Edens.

Bagration’s men held off the French for as long as practical and retreated in the darkness. The goal was to fight until the sun went down.

Tushin accompanied the working guns and encountered officers as well as some wounded. He was overwhelmed with grief, having come down from his heroic effort.  Orders were to leave the wounded but those affected felt it best to keep up with the retreat. Among the injured was Nicholas Rostov, pleading for a seat on the gun carriage. Tushin gave him a spot.

They reached the village of Gruntersdorf and heard a nearby skirmish that repelled the French for the final time. Sounds from a gloomy river were overshadowed by hoofs, wheels and groans of the wounded. The soldiers became agitated amidst confusing orders. All remained stationary on the muddy road and fires were lit. From pain and cold, a feverish shivering overtook Rostov. His eyes were transfixed by the dazzlingly red fire. Tushin held great sympathy for the young man. Other soldiers appealed to Tushin for courtesies such as a spot at the fire, water, or moving his carriage a trifle, all which he accommodated. In contrast, two nearby soldiers quarreled over a boot.

Tushin was summoned by Prince Bagration, who was nearby with other commanders. Bagration was offering platitudes and getting updates. His gathering included the stubborn general who was in the standoff, who was now flushed by vodka and enjoying dinner. Also present was Zherkóv and Andrei. In a corner stood the accountant, shaking his head. It dawned on him that he had no place on the battlefield. Close by was a French colonel taken prisoner.

The general in the standoff relayed what he had wished to have done. “When I saw, Your excellency, that their first battalion was disorganized, I stopped…and thought: ‘I’ll let them come on and will meet them with the fire of the whole battalion!” So much chaos enveloped the situation that he convinced himself of what he said. Zherkov joined in the congratulatory banter. 

Bagration praised all divisions but inquired how the guns in the center were abandoned. He turned to the staff officer initially sent to Tushin, who could only relay how contentious the battle was. Tushin then presented himself. While Tushin was Herculean in the field, he was rendered timid. He stumbled over a captured French standard and was laughed at. Confronted, he felt undeserved guilt and could only offer, “I don’t know... Your excellency... I had no men.”

Andrei came to his defense, noting he found most of Tushin’s men and horses knocked out, two guns smashed, and no support. He announced, “We owe today’s success chiefly to the action of that battery and the heroic endurance of Captain Tushin and his company.” Andrei left the table and depression enveloped him over the reality of war being so unlike what he envisioned.

This section closes by centering on Rostov’s thoughts as sat by the fire. “When will all this end?” Rostov closed his eyes thinking rest could quell his pain. He envisioned his mother’s care for him, Sónya’s love and Natasha’s laughter. He compared this to current life, which included Captain Denísov as well as Telyánin and the affair over the stolen money. When able to sleep, nightmares would manifest that soldiers were pulling his wounded arm. He opened his eyes and noticed flakes of snow. “There is no one to help me or pity me. Yet I was once at home, strong, happy, and loved.” As Rostov absorbed the snowflakes and reflected on winters at home. He thought of his gliding sleigh, fur coat, and affection of his family. “And why did I come here?”

The next day the French army did not renew their attack and the remnants of Bagration’s detachment was reunited with Kutuzov’s army.

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 losing of the Crimean War but immortalized one of Russia’s great triumphs in repelling Napoleon I in 1812. It makes his great influences -- A Tale of Two Napoleons. 

A thread through The Sevastopol Sketches and War & Peace is that Tolstoy conveys war's horrific nature. He does not glorify the subject.

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. Notably, we are taken inside the Assembly Hall -- a make-shift hospital filled with causalities and disease. Tolstoy then depicts the everyday 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. He 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 also proceeds on one of his great explorations - regarding the cause of historical events. He finds that people hold the ultimate power and are often somehow (all at once) ready to be moved. This is opposed to the theory a few great leaders move men.  

Lastly, the experience of the Crimean War transformed Tolstoy from traditional patriot to an everlasting dissident.

The 1790 Siege of Izmail is profiled as Tolstoy builds this experience into War &Peace characters who advanced to leadership roles, most notably General Kutuzov.

The Siege was led by General Alexander Suvorov against an Ottoman stronghold near the mouth of the Danube and along the northwest coast of the Black Sea. The Russian and Ottoman empires spent centuries fighting for influence in this area. The loss of Izmail was a factor in the Ottomans leaving the North Black Sea region. While the Turks withdrew, the Muslim population who remained evidence their legacy. 

Kutuzov played a pivotal role in the Siege and was almost killed. He both trained and led a contingent of men across a formidable moat to approach the fortress.  Once the walls were actually reached, improvised ladders were utilized by Cossack reserves. Kutuzov himself fell back on multiple occasions and persevered as bodies fell around him. Notably, Kutuzov did not captain from the back -- but was in the thick-of-it as much as anybody. His generalship contributed to his rise in rank. He proved he could lead men to victory, even when they faced the gravest of odds.

Throughout the ordeal, the invaders took tremendous casualties from cannon fire. Once Izmael was breached, the Russians unleashed a savagery whose reputation has endured.

The War of the Third Coalition (1805) was a monumental loss for Russian forces, while the Siege (1790) was moment of national triumph, which was immortalized in poetry and song, including “Let the Thunder of Victory Rumble.” Tolstoy notably describes the fictional Timokhin (who led a mad charge against Murat’s attack at Shöngrabern) as a veteran of Izmail

It is the character of the men at Izmail (both brave and savage) that Tolstoy is trying to represent, which would have been more apparent to late 19th century readers.

The infantry regiments that had been caught unaware and scattered in the woods amidst the French assault. Soldiers shouted, “Cut off!” - a most dangerous sentiment.  “Surrounded?! We’re lost!” was the collective reply.

The General realized that he, an officer of 22 years, would be held responsible. He forgot his standoff with the cavalry colonel.   Tolstoy notes, “The moment of moral conviction, which decides the fate of battles had arrived.  Would his soldiers attend to the desperate voice of their commander or continue their flight?” Despite his shouts, the soldiers continued to run about in a panic.

Nevertheless, there was a sea-change! The French disappeared as a special unit emerged from the woods -- Timokhin’s company, filled with sharpshooters.

Timokhin was previously singled out by Kutuzov for his participation in the Siege of Izmail in 1790.  Kutuzov recalled Timokhin had a penchant for drinking but was a good soul.  Tushin and Timokhin are fictional, but symbolic to the Battle of Shöngrabern. Timokhin, brandishing a sword, rushed at the enemy with such a mad determination, it inspired the rest.  

His behavior was reminiscent of the historic Siege, which has honorable and horrific aspects. The effort repelled the Ottomans from a critical position.  After taking heavy casualties, Russian forces rampaged the city. Many were raped and executed. The massacre troubled Kutuzov’s soul. 

The story turns to Dólokhov, who also possessed the fighting spirt that repelled the French. Dólokhov, running beside Timokhin, killed a Frenchman and seized a surrendering officer – who he dragged to a superior. Dolokhov brazenly approached his commander. “The whole company can bear witness. I beg you will remember this!” Dólokhov then untied his handkerchief and exhibited his wound.

The story moves to Tushin’s battery. Critical support had been moved yet this battery continued firing. The French could not surmise anyone would fire from such an undefended position. 

The French eventually countered but Tushin was absorbed in the task before him and his artilleryman admired his resolve. In a childlike glee, the men only noticed when balls fell among them, tearing apart both men and horses. The horses were replaced and wounded carried off, as their four guns turned against ten. Tushin’s companion officer had been killed and 17 of 40 from the battery were casualties.  Still they were merry. 

Tushin was in a feverish delirium.  It seemed so long ago since he fired the first shot. He regarded the corner of the field he stood as familiar. He gave his guns nicknames. “Matvévna, dear old lady, don’t let me down!” He imagined himself as a god throwing cannon balls. Around him, his crew bustled; and they all looked at Tushin as a father.

Suddenly a voice of a staff officer yelled out: “Captain Tushin! Are you mad? You have twice been ordered to retreat...”

Tushin was taken out of the zone. A cannon ball caused the officer to duck. As he galloped off – he shouted “Retire! All to retire!” 

A moment later, Prince Andrei arrived. As one ball after another landed, he felt a shudder. He delivered the order and tried to have the guns taken. Andrei and Tushin did not speak -- as both were busy securing the only two working cannons on a cart and moving them down a hill.

Andrei then told Tushin. “Well, till we meet again...” holding out his hand. “Good-bye, my dear fellow,” replied Tushin. “Dear Soul! Good-bye, my dear fellow!” and tears suddenly filled Tushin's eyes. 

Tushin’s battery managed to set fire to Schöngrabern, which delayed the advance of the French, who were occupied putting out fires.  The left flank —which consisted of the Azóv and Podólsk regiments as well as the Pávlograd hussars, tried to attack but were stymied by superior forces under Gen. Lannes.

Bagration sent Zherkóv to the general commanding the left flank with orders to retreat. Zherkóv, who Andrei once chastised for unprofessionalism, made the decision to deviate from duty but give himself the best chance to live. He began to “look” for the general in places he would not be.  

The commanders who should have received the message to retreat led the units that Nicolas Rostov (Hussars) and Dolokhov (Semënov) were a part of. There was confusion and posturing between the leaders, a colonel and general. With lofty words, they were arguing that that the other should proceed. Neither was ready for action. Their men had just been engaged in peaceful pursuits. Nonetheless, cannon and musketry thundered while Lannes’ forces edged closer.

The Colonel of the Hussars acknowledged he was outranked but voiced reluctance to sacrifice his Hussars. The two were not showing the initiative Tushin manifested.  They expanded their chests and rode slowly towards the front, where it became evident it was impossible for cavalry to act effectively. While the French continued to get closer, the two looked at one another like fighting cocks. Finally, the rattle of musketry diverted their attention.

Nearby, the French attacked the men collecting wood. It was no longer even possible for the Hussars to advance as they were cut off from the line of retreat. It was now necessary to clear a way through.

The rumor of a hasty movement spread. The Hussars and infantry instinctively knew their commanders did NOT know what to do.  Rostov would be thrown into the fray. There was nothing between the Hussars and the enemy but open space. Tolstoy refers to that terrible dividing line between “us” and “them.” It is a line between relative safety and the high possibility of death. All the soldiers where agitated by the question of whether and how they would cross that line. Rostov knew his time had come to experience the joy of an attack.

Out rang Captain Denisov’s voice “Fo’ward, with God, lads!” - “At a twot fo’ward!” Rostov’s horse, Rook, pulled at the reins and broke into a gallop. Rostov became elated and noticed a solitary tree ahead of him. He crossed the line and there was nothing so terrible. The enemy grew closer and larger. “Oh, how I will slash at him!” and “Let anyone come my way now!” thought Rostov. “Hur-a-a-a-ah!” came a roar of voices. 

The French were close enough to strike. As Rostov raised his saber, the world moved passed him. He didn’t realize what had happened when his horse took a shot. Rostov felt as if in a dream – like he was carried forward with unnatural speed. In reality, he stayed on the same spot. From behind him, Bondarchúk, a hussar he knew, jolted past. “How is it I am not moving? I have fallen, I am killed!”  Rostov was absorbing nothing but the motionless earth. There was warm blood under his arm.  He then considered, “I am wounded and the horse is killed.” Rook tried, bleeding from the head, to rise on his forelegs but fell back.  After disentangling his leg, Rostov become some philosophical and Tolstoy brings you into the experience of the young officer facing battle.

“Can something bad have happened to me?” At that moment he realized his wrist was hanging on his numb left arm.  People were running toward him “They will help me!” However, these were French carrying a prisoner. “Can it be that they will take me too?  Just a moment before he had been ready to hack them to pieces but now their proximity was terrifying. “Who are they? Can they be running at me? And why? To kill me? Me whom everyone is so fond of?” He remembered his mother’s love as well as that of his family and his friends. Any intention to kill him seemed impossible.

Rostov remain stationary. He could see the expression of the foremost Frenchman. That excited and alien face, holding a bayonet, frightened Rostov. Rostov seized his pistol but instead of firing it, flung it and ran with all his might toward the bushes. He moved with the feeling of the hare fleeing from hounds. The fear for losing his young and happy life consumed him.

Rostov put a good distance between himself and his pursuers. He noticed his left arm felt heavy and he could run no more. A Frenchman stopped and took aim. Rostov closed his eyes and stooped down. Bullets whistled past him. He mustered his last remaining strength and reached the bushes. Fortunate for him, some friendly sharpshooters gave him cover.

The Battle of Schöngrabern intensifies upon Murat’s breaking of the truce and resultant barrage of cannon fire. 

General Bagratión and his contingent reached the highest point of the right flank then rode down to where musketry was heard. On account of smoke, they could barely see. They quickly encountered wounded. One man was dragged by two soldiers after a bullet pierced his throat. He was gurgling and spitting blood. Another walked aimlessly, groaning while swinging a limp arm. Blood streamed over his coat as if it poured from a bottle. His face showed fear rather than suffering.  

Some soldiers were ascending the hill Bagration was descending. Despite the general’s presence, most were too disorganized to be deferential.  Rows of friendly soldiers became visible through the smoke. One officer catching sight of Bagration shouted at a crowd of retreating soldiers to STOP retreating. 

Shots drowned out the sound of voices. The air reeked of smoke. Some men were using their ramrods while others fired. The atmosphere was filled with the whistling of bullets. 

The commander of one regiment, a thin, feeble elderly man with a pleasant smile and drooping eyelids, rode up to Bagration and welcomed him as a host does an honored guest. He reported that his regiment had been attacked by cavalry. He was unclear on whether the attack had been repulsed. He could not account for the troops entrusted to him and did know whether his regiment had merely broken up. This is insightful exposition of the Fog of War.  

Prince Andrei was struck by the changed expression on Bagration’s face. It expressed a concentrated and happy resolution. That dull, sleepy expression was gone. He now had the steady eyes of a hawk. Bagration turned to an adjunct and ordered the calling up of two battalions of Chasseurs for reinforcement.  

Bagration was urged to fall back - as he was in an extraordinarily dangerous situation. He gave another order to cease firing and re-form. While he was speaking, the smoke began to move as if drawn by an invisible hand. It became clear that the French were advancing.  

Right near Bagration marched a company commander, a round-faced man, with a silly and happy expression— who had previously rushed out of the shed with Tushin. This fella was thinking of how dashing he would appear as he passed the commander. He was strutting like a peacock, inattentive to the surrounding danger. 

A throng of soldiers with knapsacks and muskets marched in step. Each seemed to be repeating to himself, at each alternate step, “Left... left... left...” A cannon ball the flew over the heads of Bagration and his suite, falling into that very column, taking out a high number.

Bagratión rode around the ranks and dismounted. He gave the reins to a Cossack, handed over his felt coat, stretched his legs and set his cap straight. “Well done, lads!” exhorted Bagratión. “Glad to do our best, your ex’len-lency!”. “Forward, with God!” continued Bagratión, in a resolute, sonorous voice. Andrei felt that an invisible power was leading them all forward.

The head of the French column, with its officers at the vanguard, appeared from below the hill. The French were near. Andrei could distinguish their bandoliers, red epaulets and even their faces. Bagration gave no further orders and silently continued to walk in front of the ranks.

One shot after another rang out. Several men caught bullets, among them the round-faced officer who had just marched so gaily. One moment he was full of life and pride, the next, like so many through the ages, he was laid to waste.

 Bagration looked round and shouted, “Hurrah!”

“Hurrah!!!" came the response, which shouted from the ranks, with men passing Bagration and racing one another on their horses. They rushed in an irregular but joyous manner down the hill at their foe.