This edition examines the second Sevastopol Sketch, where Tolstoy covers an all-too-common artillery battle and truce afterward. It focuses on May of 1855, roughly six months into the 11-month Siege during the Crimean War.

In the recent W&P episode, Tolstoy describes how young soldiers are typically unable to speak the truth and will conform their wartime stories to the expectations of their audience, as well as put themselves in the best light. He plays this out using the fictional Rostov, who was fearful and shaky on this horse as he headed into one of his first calvary charges. Rostov’s horse was shot out from under him and he fell to the ground, disoriented. When he came to, Rostov quickly became in fear of losing his life and ran into the woods like an animal pursued, with the French in hot pursuit. He soon pondered, “Why did I even come here?” However, when he conveyed this event days later, he told his old friends (Boris & Berg) how he was in a frenzy while charging and slashing at the French. Truth was completely lost on the symbolic good-hearted lad.

Tolstoy, a decade before publishing W&P, memorably wrote that the hero of his second Sevastopol Sketch (roughly 35 pages), whom he loves with all of his soul, was Truth. It is something War obscures. He succeeded in conveying a truth of War in this sketch, namely its brutality.

Tolstoy describes how men, full of lofty and petty hopes, just hours before, now lie as corpses or hideously mangled casualties after an artillery battle typical to what he witnessed firsthand.

He conveyed that the men involved, as opposed to the ideal of Truth, could not be said to symbolize good or evil. They made up of the spectrum of human behavior: good bad and ugly. Some were motivated by serving their fellow man and others by vane concerns. Some were men of resolve, others of fickleness. The same could be said of the French.

He labels the mid-levels officers sending their fellow men to near-certain death as “petty Napoleons,” implying that they are enemies of each man fighting as much as those wearing opposing uniforms.

At the end of this Sketch, Tolstoy focuses on the aftermath of a battle where white flags are raised and time is granted to collect the dead and wounded. The townspeople come out and many of the soldiers converge. Their better natures are manifest. They pat each other on the back, speak of the valour exhibited, and even exchange small gifts like tobacco.

Tolstoy expresses that these men are Christians who should all profess the Love of Him above and discard their arms, fall on their knees in repentance, and embrace their brothers in Christ. Yet he acknowledges, this will not happen, as when the flags are raised, the malevolent cycle will repeat itself.

The latter part of this chapter has Nicholas Rostov continuing his parley with Boris and Berg. I broke it into two episodes because the latter section deals with the first interaction between Andrei and Nichols, who surprisingly are not familiar with one another.

After Rostov alludes to his award, Boris retrieves the money and letter from Rostov’s family. Upon reading a few lines, Rostov hid his face, ashamed he frightened his family over his trivial injury. Berg then makes the mistake of commenting on Rostov’s bounty; as Rostov was given an excuse to turn his frustration at Berg. Berg is asked to temporarily leave and Rostov is free to lament. Also in the correspondence was a letter of recommendation for a position with General Bagration. However, Rostov throws it away. He does not want to be anyone’s adjutant, which he views as a servant’s job. Boris picks it up and confesses how much he would prefer such a position.

When the wine arrived, Berg was invited back. Over the bottle, the conversation became animated with the friends relaying their adventures, one from the vantage point of a hussar and the others from service close to the Imperial family.

Attention soon focuses on how Rostov was hurt. Without any intention of dishonesty, he gave an exaggerated account and conformed his story to expectations of what a cavalry attack would be. Notably, Rostov couldn’t have told the Truth: that he fell off his horse and ran into the woods. Tolstoy is implying that young men who face battle are prone to spin such tales. Rostov goes on to describe the battle at Schöngrabern as a collective memory, incorporating the bravery of those around him.

Rostov fervently relayed how he was aflame with excitement, flying like a hurricane at the French and cutting them down with his saber. He was carried away with lies. Just as he was saying: “You cannot imagine the frenzy,” Prince Andrei, entered the room, looking for Boris, as he had received a letter from Pierre requesting he help the young lad advance in his career. Andrei took notice of the young braggart. Already disillusioned by war, Andrei could not stand such boasting. He composed himself and gave Boris a pleasant greeting but frowned at Rostov, who noticed the affront. Boris then inquired of the battle plans. “We shall probably advance,” was Andrei’s reply.

Andrei turned to Rostóv and asked him if he was at Schöngrabern. When Rostov replied he was, Andrei calmly noted: “Yes, there are many stories now told about that affair.” Rostov took the bait, saying “Yes, stories!, But ours are those of men who have been under fire! Our have some weight, not like the stories of those on the staff who get rewards for doing nothing”

“Of whom you imagine me to be one?” retorted Andrei, with an amiable smile. Rostov was irate but recognized his adversary’s self-possession. He mustered, “I don’t know you and, frankly, I don’t want to. I am speaking of the staff in general.” Andrei calmly continues “I see you wish to insult me, and it would be very easy to do so if you lack sufficient self-respect, but admit that the time and place are badly chosen as in a day or two we shall all have to take part in a greater duel.” He added, “you know my name and where to find me, but don’t forget that I do not regard either myself or you as having been insulted, and as a man older than you, my advice is to let the matter drop.”

Andrei takes his exit after telling Boris they will speak further after the review. Rostov soon leaves for his own camp on horseback and dwells on the interaction. He replayed the events, thinking what he ought to have said. He imagines challenging Andrei to a duel and covering him with a pistol. While he wanted to see that small proud man cower, at the same time he realized there was no one else he had come across that he would so much like to have as a friend.

This chapter begins to highlight the optimism of the Coalition approaching the Battle of Austerlitz. We also experience a rare crossing of the major characters, Nicholas and Andrei.

While Nicholas was riding with the Pavlograd Hussars, Boris was serving more comfortably with the Imperial Guard, accompanying Czar Alexander as he traveled toward Olmütz, Moravia, a mostly German speaking enclave of the Holy Roman Empire that sits along a tributary of the Danube River. The allies were uniting in their largest numbers with plans to square off against Napoleon’s Grande Armée. Kutúzov’s forces already reached Olmütz while the Guards were stationed 10 miles away. All units were preparing to be reviewed by Emperors Alexander and Francis II.

Nicholas receives a note from Boris, informing him that Boris arrived with the letter and money from his family. Nicholas was elated as he was dire need of funds and set off at once to find his childhood friend. Rostov’s unit was no longer on the run, so his camp swarmed with sutlers (civilian merchants). The Hussars held feast after feast, celebrating and receiving honors. Nicholas attained a promotion to cornet, a relatively low officer’s rank. He also had to buy Denisov’s horse, “Bedouin,” after his trusty “Rook” fell in battle. With such expenses, he was in serious debt.

Nicolas is over asking himself – Why am I Here? The morale of his unit infused him with a proud spirit, as he never obtained any personal glory. Nevertheless, he proudly dons his crumpled hussar cap and shabby cadet jacket. He wishes to appear more seasoned than anyone he will come across.

Commanded by Grand Duke Konstantin Pavlovich, the Imperial Guards made their march west as if on a pleasure trip, with knapsacks on carts and the finest of provisions from Austria. While supplies to Russia’s fighting regiments was notoriously poor, the Austrian authorities made sure the Imperial Guard and Emperor were well taken care of. Everywhere they stopped, bands and fanfare welcomed them and a grand ball was organized.

Boris had marched along and been quartered with Berg, who was promoted to Captain, mostly for competently arranging financial matters. Berg was rising in accord with his ambition. Boris also had his eyes on advancement, making acquaintance of many of influence. He received a letter of recommendation from Pierre and become acquainted with Andrei, through whom he hoped to gain a post on Kutuzov’s staff.

Nicholas finds Boris & Berg sitting, clean and neatly dressed, at a table in tidy quarters, playing chess. Nicholas enthusiastically greats them and imitates their old Nurse’s mangled French, saying “Petisenfans, allay cushay dormir!” Meaning, Oh children, go to sleep. All can immediately spot how much each has changed. They had not met for half a year and each young man had taken such important steps along life’s Road.

Boris rose to meet his old friend and Nicholas initially resisted because he wanted to roughhouse with Boris. Still, Boris acted in accord with etiquette , embracing Nicholas and kissing him three times. They then boisterously exchanged greetings and took notice of the attractive German land-lady. Nicholas points out how both his friend had become dandies. Soon they ordered wine.

Boris soon asks Nicholas about his experiences and if he has been under fire. Without speaking, Nicholas smiled and shook the cross of St. George fastened to his uniform and showcased his bandaged arm. The background of this award is significant as St. George (of Cappadocian Greek origin) was a 4th Century Roman Soldier who converted to Christianity and was martyred when he would not recant his faith. There is also a legend he slayed a dragon when a lovely princess was going to be sacrificed to the beast. Paintings and awards often depict his symbolic victory over evil. The figure and tale holds immense significance in Russian history.

This is an introduction to Calvary Maiden, a source Tolstoy used to portray the experiences of soldiers during the Napoleonic Wars. Tolstoy utilized a variety of such works to craft, more than 50 years after the events depicted in War & Peace, the spirit of that first decade and a half of the 19th century.

This source material was an unconventional choice as Calvary Maiden contains the journals of a young woman, Nadezhda Andreyevna Durova, who presented as a man to pursue military ambitions. Her material was first published in 1836, well-after her 9 years of service that commenced in 1806. It was rare but not unprecedented for a woman to so serve. However, journaling her experience made Durova the first known woman in the Czar's army.

There are considerable embellishments and falsehoods in Durova's work. Most notably, Durova represents that she ran away from her beloved father's home at about 15 to pursue her military career. However, Durova was likely around 22, and her adventures started after a brief marriage and having a son. The inaccuracies could be attributable to accommodating government censors, pleasing editors, or for a variety of personal reasons. It does appear that when Durova left home, she initially linked up with a Cossack regiment and later joined a series of calvary regiments, obtaining a position as a junior line officer.

Durova has a contemporarily relevant ethnic background. She advertises being born of one of the most beautiful women in Ukraine, which had been something of a free state while under Cossack rule, but was dissolved in 1773-74 and dominated by Czars/Czarinas. Durova’s maternal grandfather was a Ukrainian civil servant. At 16, her mother (also named Nadezhda) became enamored with a Muscovite Hussar who traveled to family’s small town near Poltova, an Ukrainian city with historical import. Her Ukrainian grandfather forbade any such match, as would have been customary. Nevertheless, the two eloped and the young couple was able to pursue their own path as military life initially kept them on the move. Being around this lifestyle very much fascinated her.

Durova was firstborn and describes herself as a monstrously ugly infant and the bane of her mother’s existence. However, her father (Andrej Durov) is characterized as industrious, loving and kind. It appears Andrej was descended from a low level of Polish nobility. This would have allowed his male descendants to gain an officer position, which Durova, in her disguise, was able to merit.

Durova sheds light on her escape from roles traditionally associated with females of the time, such as: wife, mother, tutor, mistress and hostess. She participated in some of the grand military events of the day and capably describes life in both war and peacetime. She is one of few authors to focus on the latter, the downtime which often makes up the bulk of a soldier's experience.

Though always in their hearts, it had been months since the Rostovs received news of Nicholas. When Count Ilya finally received a letter from his son, he ran his study with it. Anna Drubetskaya, Boris’ mother, was living with the family and aimed to be useful. She found Ilya sobbing and laughing. His darling boy suffered a small wound but was promoted. He found this reason to thank God. Still, he wonders how to tell his wife of the injury. Anna therefore took the rest of the day preparing the Countess.

Young Natasha convinced Anna to reveal the nature of the letter and promised to keep it secret. She broke her word right away, telling Sonya (who is devoted to Nicholas) as well as her little brother, Petya. Sonya cried and Natasha comforted her -- noting it was just “a little wound.” Petya takes the missive with resolve and adds how he would have “killed many Frenchmen.”

Natasha asks Sonya, “Do you remember Nicholas?” She means in the sense of holding the same feelings. Sonya reveals, “I am in love with your brother and whatever may happen, shall never cease to love him.” Natasha no longer feels the same about Boris. Her childlike love has faded. Natasha knew there was such love as Sonya was describing, but never experienced it. They discuss whether it would be proper for Sonya to write Nicholas and reference his commitment. Sonya decides that if she is mentioned in the letter, she will write. Natasha does not have any compulsion to write Boris as she feels it would just come out awkward. Pétya reveals Natasha has developed affections for the new Count Bezúkhov as well as her Italian singing coach.

After dinner, the Countess was in her room focused on a portrait of Nicholas. Anna arrived with the letter while Ilya listened through a keyhole. There was crying, silence, then voices in happy intonation. Anna opened the door and exhibited a proud expression. Anna embraced her husband and in came Véra, Natasha, Sonya and Pétya. All went over the letter. There was a description of the campaign, battles and the promotion. Nicholas sent his love and asked for his parents’ blessings. He sent a special greeting to “dear Sónya, whom he loved and thought of just the same as ever.” When Sonya heard this, she blushed, cried and ran to the dancing hall, where she whirled around at full speed.

The practical Vera asked, “Why are you crying, Mamma? One should be glad and not cry.” This was true but not wise to express. She was reproached by the family while her mother thought, “and who is it she takes after?”

The letter was read over among tutors, nurses and servants. Each time the Countess did so with fresh pleasure. She contemplated how incredible it was that her son, once a scarcely perceptible motion under her heart, who had learned to say little words, was now away in a foreign land doing warrior’s work as a model officer. It was the universal experience - showing how children imperceptibly grow from the cradle to manhood. Yet it does not exist for a mother. Her boy’s growth, at each stage, seemed as extraordinary to her as if it never existed in others. She thought, “What style! and “what a heart and soul!” She noticed how Nicholas barely wrote of his exploits and sufferings, but mentions Denísov and others.

A bountiful response would come from the family, as a new officer needs supplies which are NOT paid for by the army. Preparations were being made, along drafts of letters. 6,000 rubles was collected. There was a question of how to reach Nicholas as he was on the move and the postal system was notoriously ill-managed.

Anna would prove her worth yet again in conveying the material. She had curried favor with authorities (couriers for Grand Duke Constantine Pávlovich, a historic figure and elder brother of Alexander I) to secure a means of communication to reach Boris, who would convey any package to Nicholas.

Once separated for the evening, Anatole fell right asleep. The charmed women did not.

Marya considered, “Is he really to be my husband? This stranger who is so kind.” However, she soon feels the force of evil near her as a Satanic image mixed with Anatole’s. She rang for her maid, asking her to sleep in her room. Lise grumbled how uncomfortable she was in bed. Anatole’s presence reminded her of when she was not impacted by pregnancy and loneliness. Amélie Bourienne walked about the winter garden, working out this scenario where she would allow herself to be seduced, then try to win Anatole with a story about how her poor mother’s ghost shamed her. Conveying this would hopefully guilt Anatole into marrying her. Such projection contrasts with Marya, who would never so play with spirits.

Bolkonsky could not sleep and reflected, “The first man that turns up—she forgets her father and becomes so unlike herself!” He is disappointed Marya did not have the pride to see Anatole’s nature. He considers casting off Bourienne and aims to reveal the truth, in part, to convince Marya not to leave Bald Hills.

The next morning, Anatole and Amélie recognized how much each had to “say” to the other. They took the opportunity to rendezvous in the garden when Marya went to meet her father.

Marya was told, “I have a proposition and refer it to you. Prince Vasíli finds you to his taste as a daughter-in-law and makes a proposal to you on his protégé’s behalf.” Marya asks for her father’s input but realizes he does not approve. He informs her Anatole will take her dowry and bring Bourienne into the marriage. Marya become despondent and her father feigned speaking in jest. He advises Marya to take an hour to pray over the matter and adds, “Remember that your happiness depends on your decision. He receives his orders from his father and will marry you or anybody; but you are free to choose.”

Mary wishes to accept but what her father said had an impact. An invisible force led her into the conservatory, where she recognized the whispering of Amélie. A few steps away, she saw Anatole fully embracing the French woman. Marya was shocked. Amélie screamed and ran off. Anatole composed himself, bowed with a smirk, as if inviting Marya to join in a laugh and retreated.

Marya was summoned an hour later as she comforted Amélie. She gazed at Amélie with tender affection and stroked her hair. Amélie was apologetic, “You who are so pure… can never understand being so carried away.” Marya responded, “I love you more than ever and will do all I can for your happiness.” She then she went to address Anatole’s father.

Vasíli was optimistic. “My dear! My son’s fate is in your hands. Decide, my gentle Marie, whom I have always loved as a daughter!” Bolkonsky put the matter bluntly, “Do you wish or not to be Prince Anatole Kurágin’s wife? Reply and then I reserve the right to state my opinion.” Marya answered, “My desire is never to leave you, Father.” Vasíli did not relent, “Will you not give us a little hope of touching your heart? Say ‘perhaps’... The future is so long.” Marya continued, “Prince, I have said all in my heart. I thank you for the honor but shall never be your son’s wife.” Bolkonsky then steered Vasíli out the door and sends Marya to her room. “Well, so that’s finished, my dear fellow! I am very glad to have seen you.”

Marya contemplated, “My vocation is to be content with another kind of happiness, of love and self-sacrifice. Cost what it may, I will arrange poor Amélie’s happiness as she loves Anatole so passionately and repents. I will give her the means; I will ask my father and Andrei. I shall be so happy when she is his wife. She has been so unfortunate, alone and helpless! And how she must love him if she could so forget herself! Perhaps I might have done the same!”

Marya comes from her room to meet Anatole and is quickly smitten by his attractiveness. He introduced himself and stood smiling with his chest expanded. He was hardly eloquent but had the invaluable faculty of composure. He knew he inspired curiosity, awe and lust. Marie wished to convey that she did not expect to interest him.

The conversation became genial thanks to Lise. Speaking French, she drew all into her stories. Shaking a finger at Anatole, she reveals, “I have heard of your doings in Paris!” With Paris referenced, Bourienne jumped in and Anatole thought, “la petite est gentile.”

Bolkonsky remained in his study, considering how Vasíli is a shallow soul with his son likely in the same mold. Their presence brought up whether he could part from the daughter he cherished. “Why should she marry? To be unhappy?” He thought of Lise, thinking a better husband than his son could not be found. Still, Lise was not content. He realized some women remain happier and have more agency unmarried. He also demanded any suitor be worthy. As Vasíli stepped in to drag Pierre into marriage, Bolkonsky is preparing to keep Marya out.

Upon meeting his guests, Bolkonsky noticed Anatole flirting with Bourienne and already felt Marya was playing the fool. He went up to Vasíli, exchanged pleasantries and discussed news of the war, but soon broke off to chastise his daughter for her new look, reducing her to tears.

Bolkonsky then addressed Anatole and spoke in a way where Anatole felt compelled to hold back laughter. “My dear boy…So, you wish to serve the Tsar and the country? It is wartime, such a fine fellow must serve. Well, are you off to the front?” In responding, Anatole must ask his father what unit he is attached to, which confirms Bolkonsky’s suspicions of his quality.

Nevertheless, as soon as Vasíli got Bolkonsky alone, Vasíli announced his hopes. Bolkonsky said he would ask Marya tomorrow in everyone’s presence. If she is willing, Anatole can “stay on,” but still notes “I’ll see,” implying he would be the final arbiter. Vasíli adds “I will tell you frankly, Anatole is no genius, but he is an honest, goodhearted lad, excellent son, and would be no less a relative.”

Anatole remains busy entertaining the women of the House. Attributable to their loneliness, all were charmed. Even Marya forgot her plainness. Anatole seemed out of a dream: kind, confident, masculine, and magnanimous. Aspirations of a family rose in Marya’s imagination. “Am I too cold with him? I remain reserved because in the depth of my soul I feel too near to him already.” In contrast, Anatole thought, “Poor girl, she’s devilish ugly!”

Bourienne’s passions were also spurred. Without any status, relatives, or even a country, she did not intend to devote her life to serving Bolkonsky. She dreamed of a prince like this who would appreciate her looks and fall in love. Her aunt had told her about such scenarios. It was not calculation that guided her as she didn’t have the sense to plan. She just wished to try to please the man before her. Anatole was cognizant of his power and the feeling that most intensely rose was a passionate lust for Bourienne.

Mary was soon asked to play on the clavichord. Her favorite sonata bore her into animated poetic world. In her lovely eyes there was a look of hope and joy. Anatole faced Marie but concentrated on Bourienne. Mary would look at Bourienne, thinking, “How happy I am now, and how happy I may be with such a friend and such a husband!

When it came to retire, Anatole kissed Marya’s hand. He did the same to Bourienne, which was a breach of protocol. She flushed as Marya considered, “Is it possible Amélie thinks I could be jealous of her, and not value her devotion.” Lastly, Anatole went up to Lise and they had a playful interaction to close the night.

In August of 1908, when 80 years old, Tolstoy penned the open letter, “The Blessings of Love,” referring to the Love which embodies the Almighty. Tolstoy wrote much, later-in-life, about his religious convictions, but this episode will focus on this relatively short letter addressed to “Good People Everywhere.”

Tolstoy explicitly introduces the concept of divine Love in War & Peace through Mayra reaching out in prayer when she faces the temptation for physical pleasure when Anatole pays a courting visit. She feels the Lord has placed in her heart the direction to orient herself around heavenly Love. She is reminded to focus on the Lord’s command of Love: meaning commitment to others as demonstrated by God’s willingness to sacrifice his Son.

Tolstoy begins his missive with special appeal to those “fighting on behalf of one government or another, which nobody needs.” He specifically reaches out to his “Dear Brothers” including: “King, Minister, Merchant, Worker, and Peasant.”

He notes that the further he reaches in life, the more it becomes clear that we need to focus on this transcendent Love. Tolstoy proffers that our earthly toils distract us from this obligation; but it is what the Lord desires for our short indeterminate lifespans, which lie between the voids of pre-birth and post-death. Tolstoy, believing his end was immanent, was acknowledging the transience and fragility of terrestrial life. He did not dread the prospect of death, but viewed it as natural and beneficial, like one day passing into another.

He writes that our lives have such potential for joy, where we can appreciate the heavens and nature, with a stewardship for what is before us. Instead, we wind up creatures constructing buildings, factories and roads, often for the latest commerce system that mass produces items Tolstoy believes nobody needs. Such industrial demands create pollution and sicken workers (physically and mentally), who dwell in the slums of the early 20th century. In mining pursuits, Tolstoy emphasizes, somewhat metaphorically, how workers descend into the earth to extract stones and iron. This stands in contrast to looking upwards and outwards – towards the divine.

Instead of living joyfully and being prone to God’s bounty, we hate, kill, harass and accumulate. Some utilitarian masters-of-the-day claim to be guided by a greater good. Others are influenced by habit, tradition, or imitation. However, without focus on the divine, so many have been reduced to fighting like animals, and live a perversion of what life should be.

Ultimately, we must do what coincides with the demands of our soul, namely to act in the spirit of brotherly Love.

Tolstoy proposes: let the those fighting for so-called freedom or order, put a tinge of their efforts toward living out this Love. He is confident everyone will see the fruits of their labor and experience a bliss. Even if you try it for a day, it will make you unlikely to turn back. For Love transcends death. He appears to be referencing popular Gospel teachings, such as to live to accumulate treasures in heaven, instead of riches on earth, which will inevitably perish. For divine Love is eternal.

Tolstoy concludes that all of his fame, wealth, and devices of social life are trivial compared to the Love the soul demands. Therefore, we are to live with sacrificial intent. Such a life is open to us and calls.