Chapter Summaries: Dole: Battle Scenes. At the front. Effect of the battle on Bagration. The enemy's charge. "Left! left! left!" Charge of the Sixth Jagers. The enemy yield.
Briggs: Battle scenes. Bagration in the thick of things.
Maude (chapters 18-19): Battle scenes. Quarrelsome commanders. Nicholas injured
Translation:
XVIII. Prince Bagration, leaving the tallest point of our right flank, began to go down, where was heard the erratic shooting and nothing was seen from gunpowder smoke. The nearer they went down to the hollow, the less they saw, yet by that became more sensitive to the closeness of the current field of battle. They began to meet the wounded. One with a bloodied head, without a hat, was dragged by two soldiers below the arm. He wheezed and spit. The bullet hit, it was seen, in the mouth or in the throat. Another, meeting them, cheerfully was walking without a gun, loudly whining and waving from the fresh pain of his hand, out of which blood poured, as from a flask, onto his overcoat. His face seemed more scared than suffering. He in that moment of going backwards was injured. Crossing the road, they began to coolly go down and in the descent were seen a few persons that were lying down; they met a crowd of soldiers, in numbers which were both wounded and not wounded. The soldiers went to the mountain, heavily breathing, and, despite the view of the general, loudly talked and waved their hands. Ahead, in the smoke, now were visible ranks of gray overcoats, and an officer, seeing Bagration, screamingly ran at the soldiers of the marching crowd, demanding for them to come back. Bagration drove to the rows that were there, here quickly snapped shots, drowning out the dialects and command shouting. All of the air was impregnated by the powder smoke. The faces of the soldiers all were smoked by gunpowder and lively. Others drove in ramrods, others poured onto the shelves, got charges from bags, and a third fired. Yet at whom they fired, this was not seen from the gunpowder smoke, not carried away by the wind. Quite often were heard the pleasant sounds of buzzing and whistling. “What is this? — thought Prince Andrey, driving to this crowd of soldiers. — This is not a chain, because of how they are in a heap! This is not an attack, because of how they do not move; not a square: they are not standing so.” A thin, weak in view, old man, the regimental commander, with a nice smile, from over the eyelids that were more than half closed over his senile eyes, giving him a gentle view, drove to Prince Bagration and accepted him as a master accepts a dear guest. He reported to Prince Bagration that against his regiment was the horse attack of the French, but that, although this attack was repulsed, the regiment lost more than half of its people. The regimental commander said that the attack was repulsed, inventing this military name to what was happening in his regiment; but he really himself did not know what was happening in this half an hour to the entrusted to him troops, and could not with credibility say whether the attack was repulsed or his regiment was broken by the attack. In the beginning of the action he knew only that all his regiment began to shoot and throw grenades and beat people, that then someone shouted: “cavalry”, and ours began to be under fire. And fired still now not at the cavalry, which hid, but at the on foot French, which appeared in the hollow and fired at ours. Prince Bagration tipped his head in a sign that all this was completely so as he desired and assumed. Turning to an adjutant, he ordered him to bring from the mountains two battalions of the 6th Jaegers, by which they now drove through. Prince Andrey was struck by what occurred in the face of Prince Bagration in this moment of turning. His face expressed that focused and happy determination which is in a person that has finished on a warm day and thrown themselves into water after taking a running start. There was no sleepy dull eye, or feignedly thoughtfully kind eye: his round, solid, hawkish eyes enthusiastically and somewhat contemptuously looked forward, obviously not stopping, although in his movements stayed that former slowness and measurement. The regimental commander turned to Prince Bagration, begging him to drive off backwards, as here it was too dangerous. “Have mercy, your excellency, for God!” he spoke, for confirmation looking at the retinue officer, who turned away from him. “Here, please look!” he gave notice to the bullets, which incessantly squealed, sang and whistled about them. He spoke with such a tone of request and reproach, as how a carpenter speaks taken for an ax master: “our business is habitual, but your hands pray.” He spoke so, as if he himself could not be killed by these bullets, and his half closed eyes gave his words a still more convincing expression. The staff officer joined to the admonitions of the regimental commander; but Prince Bagration did not respond to them and only ordered a stop to the firing and to build up so that to give a place suitable for two battalions. At that time as he spoke, as if an invisible hand reached out right to left, with the rising wind, the canopy smoke, the hiding hollow, and the opposite mountain with the moving by it French had opened before them. All eyes were unwittingly directed to that French column, moving forward to them and wriggling by the ledges of the terrain. Now visible were the furry hats of the soldiers; now could be distinguished the officers from the rank and file; it was seen how fluttered about the staff their flags. — Go gloriously, — said someone in the retinue of Bagration. The head columns came down now in the hollow. The collision must happen on this side of the descent... The leftovers of our regiment, the former in this case hastily under construction, departed to the right; from behind them, dispersing laggards, approached harmoniously two battalions of the 6th Jaegers. They were still not equal with Bagration, but now heard the rough, overweight step, repulsing leg in all the mass of people. From the left flank was walking nearer to Bagration the company commander, a chubby, stately man with a foolish, happy expression face, the same that was running out of the booth. He, apparently, did not think in this moment besides how he would pass by his superiors well. With fruity complacency he was walking easily on muscular legs, exactly as he swam, without the slightest effort stretching out and distinguishing this ease from the heavy step of the soldiers, marching by his steps. He carried by his legs a taken out thin, narrow sword (a bent skewer, not similar to weapons) and, looking back on the superiors, backwards, not losing a step, flexibly turned to all of the strong camp. It seemed, all the forces of his soul were directed in the best way to pass by his superiors, and, feeling that he carried out this business okay, he was happy. “Left... left... left…”, it seemed, he internally sentenced across every step, and by this tact with diverse strict faces moved the wall of soldier figures weighed down with satchels and guns, as if every one of these hundred soldiers mentally across step sentenced: “left... left... left…”. The thick major, panting and scattering his step, went around the bush by the road; behind were the soldiers, out of breath, with a scared face for their failure, trotting and catching up to the company; a cannon ball, pushing the air, flew above the head of Prince Bagration and the suite and in tact with: “left — left!” struck in the column. “Close up!” was heard the flaunting voice of the company commander. The soldiers in an arc bypassed something in that location, where fell the cannon ball, and the old admirer, the flank’s noncommissioned officer, was behind the slain, catching up with his row, bouncing, changed leg, hit on a step and angrily turned back. “Left... left... left…,” it seemed, was heard from behind the threatening silence and monotonous sound striking at once about the feet on the ground. — Well done, guys! — said Prince Bagration. “Glad... ho-ho-ho-ho!...” was heard by the rows. A glum soldier, going left, shouted, turning back his eyes at Bagration with such an expression, as if saying: “We know ourselves”; Another, not looking back and as if fearing having fun, with an agape mouth, shouted and passed. The order was to stay and take off backpacks. Bagration travelled past by his ranks and tore from his horse. He gave a Cossack the reins, stripped off and gave a burka, straightened his legs and corrected the cap on his head. The head of the French columns, with officers ahead, appeared from below mountains. — From the Lord! — spoke Bagration in a solid, audible voice, in a moment turned around to the front and, swinging his hands a little, in an awkward step of a cavalryman, as from laboring, went forward by the uneven field. Prince Andrey felt that irresistible power attracting him forward, and felt great happiness.315 Now the French became close; now Prince Andrey, going nearby Bagration, was clearly distinguishing between the bandages, the red epaulettes, and even the faces of the French. (He clearly saw one old French officer, with inverted feet in boots, adhering behind the bushes, with labor walking on the mountain.) Prince Bagration did not give new orders and all the same was silently walking before the rows. Suddenly between the French cracked one shot, another, a third... and by all the confusion the enemy rows smashed through the smoke and tore through firing. A few people of ours fell, including the chubby officer, going by so funnily and carefully. Yet at that same moment as the first shot rang out, Bagration turned back and shouted: “hoorah!” “Hoorah-ah-ah-ah!” the lingering screaming spread by our lines and, overtaking Prince Bagration and each other, the inconsistent, yet fun and lively crowd of ours ran below the mountain to disturb the French. 315 Here occurred that attack about which Thier speaks: “Les russes se conduisirent vaillamment, et chose rare à la guerre, on vit deux masses d’infanterie marcher résolument l’une contre l’autre sans qu’aucune des deux céda avant d’être abordée” (The Russians behaved valiantly, and a rare thing in war, we saw two masses of infantry marching resolutely one against the other without one of two giving in before being approached); Napoleon on the island of St. Helen, said: “Quelques bataillons russes montrèrent de l’intrepidité” (“Some Russian battalions showed intrepidity). [The Russians led themselves valiantly, and a thing that is rare in war, two masses of infantry went resolutely against another, and neither one of either of them lost itself in the confrontation”]. The words of Napoleon: [some Russians battalions showed fearlessness.]
Time: See previous chapter. There is a mention of the last half hour.
Location: See previous chapter.
Mentioned: French, Russian (Les Russes in French), St. Helena (not included in Bell.
Pevear and Volkhonsky notes: Really start to see the consequences of the violence when they meet the wounded. Heavy smoke covers everything and those who are bothering to shoot their guns have no idea where the shots are going or if they are hitting anything.
Briggs: Battle scenes. Bagration in the thick of things.
Maude (chapters 18-19): Battle scenes. Quarrelsome commanders. Nicholas injured
Translation:
XVIII. Prince Bagration, leaving the tallest point of our right flank, began to go down, where was heard the erratic shooting and nothing was seen from gunpowder smoke. The nearer they went down to the hollow, the less they saw, yet by that became more sensitive to the closeness of the current field of battle. They began to meet the wounded. One with a bloodied head, without a hat, was dragged by two soldiers below the arm. He wheezed and spit. The bullet hit, it was seen, in the mouth or in the throat. Another, meeting them, cheerfully was walking without a gun, loudly whining and waving from the fresh pain of his hand, out of which blood poured, as from a flask, onto his overcoat. His face seemed more scared than suffering. He in that moment of going backwards was injured. Crossing the road, they began to coolly go down and in the descent were seen a few persons that were lying down; they met a crowd of soldiers, in numbers which were both wounded and not wounded. The soldiers went to the mountain, heavily breathing, and, despite the view of the general, loudly talked and waved their hands. Ahead, in the smoke, now were visible ranks of gray overcoats, and an officer, seeing Bagration, screamingly ran at the soldiers of the marching crowd, demanding for them to come back. Bagration drove to the rows that were there, here quickly snapped shots, drowning out the dialects and command shouting. All of the air was impregnated by the powder smoke. The faces of the soldiers all were smoked by gunpowder and lively. Others drove in ramrods, others poured onto the shelves, got charges from bags, and a third fired. Yet at whom they fired, this was not seen from the gunpowder smoke, not carried away by the wind. Quite often were heard the pleasant sounds of buzzing and whistling. “What is this? — thought Prince Andrey, driving to this crowd of soldiers. — This is not a chain, because of how they are in a heap! This is not an attack, because of how they do not move; not a square: they are not standing so.” A thin, weak in view, old man, the regimental commander, with a nice smile, from over the eyelids that were more than half closed over his senile eyes, giving him a gentle view, drove to Prince Bagration and accepted him as a master accepts a dear guest. He reported to Prince Bagration that against his regiment was the horse attack of the French, but that, although this attack was repulsed, the regiment lost more than half of its people. The regimental commander said that the attack was repulsed, inventing this military name to what was happening in his regiment; but he really himself did not know what was happening in this half an hour to the entrusted to him troops, and could not with credibility say whether the attack was repulsed or his regiment was broken by the attack. In the beginning of the action he knew only that all his regiment began to shoot and throw grenades and beat people, that then someone shouted: “cavalry”, and ours began to be under fire. And fired still now not at the cavalry, which hid, but at the on foot French, which appeared in the hollow and fired at ours. Prince Bagration tipped his head in a sign that all this was completely so as he desired and assumed. Turning to an adjutant, he ordered him to bring from the mountains two battalions of the 6th Jaegers, by which they now drove through. Prince Andrey was struck by what occurred in the face of Prince Bagration in this moment of turning. His face expressed that focused and happy determination which is in a person that has finished on a warm day and thrown themselves into water after taking a running start. There was no sleepy dull eye, or feignedly thoughtfully kind eye: his round, solid, hawkish eyes enthusiastically and somewhat contemptuously looked forward, obviously not stopping, although in his movements stayed that former slowness and measurement. The regimental commander turned to Prince Bagration, begging him to drive off backwards, as here it was too dangerous. “Have mercy, your excellency, for God!” he spoke, for confirmation looking at the retinue officer, who turned away from him. “Here, please look!” he gave notice to the bullets, which incessantly squealed, sang and whistled about them. He spoke with such a tone of request and reproach, as how a carpenter speaks taken for an ax master: “our business is habitual, but your hands pray.” He spoke so, as if he himself could not be killed by these bullets, and his half closed eyes gave his words a still more convincing expression. The staff officer joined to the admonitions of the regimental commander; but Prince Bagration did not respond to them and only ordered a stop to the firing and to build up so that to give a place suitable for two battalions. At that time as he spoke, as if an invisible hand reached out right to left, with the rising wind, the canopy smoke, the hiding hollow, and the opposite mountain with the moving by it French had opened before them. All eyes were unwittingly directed to that French column, moving forward to them and wriggling by the ledges of the terrain. Now visible were the furry hats of the soldiers; now could be distinguished the officers from the rank and file; it was seen how fluttered about the staff their flags. — Go gloriously, — said someone in the retinue of Bagration. The head columns came down now in the hollow. The collision must happen on this side of the descent... The leftovers of our regiment, the former in this case hastily under construction, departed to the right; from behind them, dispersing laggards, approached harmoniously two battalions of the 6th Jaegers. They were still not equal with Bagration, but now heard the rough, overweight step, repulsing leg in all the mass of people. From the left flank was walking nearer to Bagration the company commander, a chubby, stately man with a foolish, happy expression face, the same that was running out of the booth. He, apparently, did not think in this moment besides how he would pass by his superiors well. With fruity complacency he was walking easily on muscular legs, exactly as he swam, without the slightest effort stretching out and distinguishing this ease from the heavy step of the soldiers, marching by his steps. He carried by his legs a taken out thin, narrow sword (a bent skewer, not similar to weapons) and, looking back on the superiors, backwards, not losing a step, flexibly turned to all of the strong camp. It seemed, all the forces of his soul were directed in the best way to pass by his superiors, and, feeling that he carried out this business okay, he was happy. “Left... left... left…”, it seemed, he internally sentenced across every step, and by this tact with diverse strict faces moved the wall of soldier figures weighed down with satchels and guns, as if every one of these hundred soldiers mentally across step sentenced: “left... left... left…”. The thick major, panting and scattering his step, went around the bush by the road; behind were the soldiers, out of breath, with a scared face for their failure, trotting and catching up to the company; a cannon ball, pushing the air, flew above the head of Prince Bagration and the suite and in tact with: “left — left!” struck in the column. “Close up!” was heard the flaunting voice of the company commander. The soldiers in an arc bypassed something in that location, where fell the cannon ball, and the old admirer, the flank’s noncommissioned officer, was behind the slain, catching up with his row, bouncing, changed leg, hit on a step and angrily turned back. “Left... left... left…,” it seemed, was heard from behind the threatening silence and monotonous sound striking at once about the feet on the ground. — Well done, guys! — said Prince Bagration. “Glad... ho-ho-ho-ho!...” was heard by the rows. A glum soldier, going left, shouted, turning back his eyes at Bagration with such an expression, as if saying: “We know ourselves”; Another, not looking back and as if fearing having fun, with an agape mouth, shouted and passed. The order was to stay and take off backpacks. Bagration travelled past by his ranks and tore from his horse. He gave a Cossack the reins, stripped off and gave a burka, straightened his legs and corrected the cap on his head. The head of the French columns, with officers ahead, appeared from below mountains. — From the Lord! — spoke Bagration in a solid, audible voice, in a moment turned around to the front and, swinging his hands a little, in an awkward step of a cavalryman, as from laboring, went forward by the uneven field. Prince Andrey felt that irresistible power attracting him forward, and felt great happiness.315 Now the French became close; now Prince Andrey, going nearby Bagration, was clearly distinguishing between the bandages, the red epaulettes, and even the faces of the French. (He clearly saw one old French officer, with inverted feet in boots, adhering behind the bushes, with labor walking on the mountain.) Prince Bagration did not give new orders and all the same was silently walking before the rows. Suddenly between the French cracked one shot, another, a third... and by all the confusion the enemy rows smashed through the smoke and tore through firing. A few people of ours fell, including the chubby officer, going by so funnily and carefully. Yet at that same moment as the first shot rang out, Bagration turned back and shouted: “hoorah!” “Hoorah-ah-ah-ah!” the lingering screaming spread by our lines and, overtaking Prince Bagration and each other, the inconsistent, yet fun and lively crowd of ours ran below the mountain to disturb the French. 315 Here occurred that attack about which Thier speaks: “Les russes se conduisirent vaillamment, et chose rare à la guerre, on vit deux masses d’infanterie marcher résolument l’une contre l’autre sans qu’aucune des deux céda avant d’être abordée” (The Russians behaved valiantly, and a rare thing in war, we saw two masses of infantry marching resolutely one against the other without one of two giving in before being approached); Napoleon on the island of St. Helen, said: “Quelques bataillons russes montrèrent de l’intrepidité” (“Some Russian battalions showed intrepidity). [The Russians led themselves valiantly, and a thing that is rare in war, two masses of infantry went resolutely against another, and neither one of either of them lost itself in the confrontation”]. The words of Napoleon: [some Russians battalions showed fearlessness.]
Time: See previous chapter. There is a mention of the last half hour.
Location: See previous chapter.
Mentioned: French, Russian (Les Russes in French), St. Helena (not included in Bell.
Pevear and Volkhonsky notes: Really start to see the consequences of the violence when they meet the wounded. Heavy smoke covers everything and those who are bothering to shoot their guns have no idea where the shots are going or if they are hitting anything.
Andrei begins to realize what war looks like and sees that the armies don’t stay in their formations. Those giving reports have no idea what actually happened. Tolstoy still identifies them as “our men” and even “our regiment”.
Prince Bagration finally has a change and shows positive emotion when he gets to get two battalions to come with him to take an attack. Bagration will not back down as the others ask him to go to safety. Still, even in this chaos, the
ideas of parade and personal glory appear. A soldier carrying a sword that can’t really be considered a weapon (contrast Bagration’s sword in the previous chapter). This long ridiculous episode of the marching past the superior
interrupts the flow of the narrative and calls attention to itself. This man is shot and presumably killed at the end of the chapter. It is like Tolstoy can’t resist it.
ideas of parade and personal glory appear. A soldier carrying a sword that can’t really be considered a weapon (contrast Bagration’s sword in the previous chapter). This long ridiculous episode of the marching past the superior
interrupts the flow of the narrative and calls attention to itself. This man is shot and presumably killed at the end of the chapter. It is like Tolstoy can’t resist it.
“Prince Andrei felt that some invincible force was drawing him forward, and he experienced great happiness.”
The Tolstoy footnote about Thiers saying how valiantly the Russians behave, even quoting Napoleon’s thoughts that they were dauntless.
The chapter ends with “our men” chasing “the disordered French”
Characters (characters who do not appear, but are mentioned are placed in italics. First appearances are in Bold. First mentions are underlined. Final appearance denoted by *):
Prince Bagration (also”the general” and “your illustriousness”)
Regimental commander (no reason to think he is one mentioned previously, especially since Tolstoy gives him a description in the chapter)
Prince Andrei
The prince’s personal adjutant
An officer on duty (“The staff officer” here)
An infantry officer (here called “company commander” in Dole. Tolstoy connects him as the one who interrupted Tushin’s conversation in chapter 16)
Napoleon Bonaparte (just “Napoleon” and just in the footnote)
(many many undifferentiated soldiers, some notable ones that perhaps aren’t quite characters include the one that had a bullet enter his mouth or throat, the one without his musket with an injured hand, a stout major (not to be
confused with the stout major in chapter 15), a straggler falling behind his company, “an old calvalryman” who takes care of some of the wounded, a “morose-looking soldier” who looks at Bagration, an “elderly French officer”
having trouble getting up the hill, and a Cossack who takes the horse)
confused with the stout major in chapter 15), a straggler falling behind his company, “an old calvalryman” who takes care of some of the wounded, a “morose-looking soldier” who looks at Bagration, an “elderly French officer”
having trouble getting up the hill, and a Cossack who takes the horse)
(not counting “Thiers” or “Thaine” as in Dole as a character, at least for now. Mandelker uses the footnote as an endnote and puts the star for it at the end of the chapter. Maude also uses endnote and places it at the second
Hurrah rather than after Andrei’s feeling of a force pulling him. Dunnigan and Garnett do not include the footnote)
Hurrah rather than after Andrei’s feeling of a force pulling him. Dunnigan and Garnett do not include the footnote)
Abridged Versions: No break in Bell
Gibian: Chapter 14: line break instead of chapter break at end.
Gibian: Chapter 14: line break instead of chapter break at end.
Fuller: Entire chapter except the footnote is preserved and followed by a line break.
Komroff: The description of the man with the wounded hand is shortened. Andrei’s line expressing bewilderment over the disorganization of the soldiers is removed. A little bit of the colonel’s report is gone, as is Bagration’s
initial reaction. Bagration being asked to get in a safer spot is also shortened. The chapter then ends, with a line break, saying that “The engagement would take place then on the nearer side of the slope.” This cuts the
marching, the company commander, and the two sides shooting each other at the end. The footnote is also removed
initial reaction. Bagration being asked to get in a safer spot is also shortened. The chapter then ends, with a line break, saying that “The engagement would take place then on the nearer side of the slope.” This cuts the
marching, the company commander, and the two sides shooting each other at the end. The footnote is also removed
Kropotkin: Entire chapter is cut.
Bromfield: Chapter 19: Rather than a footnote, the information is just placed in the next paragraph after Andrei feels the “force”.
Simmons: Chapter 14: entire chapter is cut and replaced with "Inspired by Bagration's courage on the field, the Sixth Chasseurs successfully stem the advance of a French column". Line break.
Simmons: Chapter 14: entire chapter is cut and replaced with "Inspired by Bagration's courage on the field, the Sixth Chasseurs successfully stem the advance of a French column". Line break.
Additional Notes:
The Raid (Garnett): Page 16-17: “The smoke of the cannon, of the shells and of the muskets melted away in the greenness of the wood and mingled with the mist...The earth groaned at the sound; there was a continual flash
of light, and the smoke, through which one could scarcely discern the moving figures of the gunners, blinded the eyes.”
Bruenig: Page 118: “Napoleon’s...was more concerned with arranging and ordering his version of the events of his career so as to impose an appearance of unity and coherence upon his achievements. The fruits of this effort
are to be seen in his memoirs, sometimes referred to as “the gospel according to St. Helena,” which often bear scant resemblance to events which actually took place and are particularly distorted when they deal with the
emperor’s intentions and motives.”
Reiners/Wilson: Page 79: “‘Bravery and presence of mind are found in the highway robber as much as in heroes; the only difference is that the conqueror is an illustrious robber who impresses by the scale of his actions and compels respect by the force at his command, whereas the average thief is a nameless ruffian, the more disreputable, the more despised. The former reaps laurels as the reward for his violence,, the other ends on the gallows.”
The Raid (Garnett): Page 16-17: “The smoke of the cannon, of the shells and of the muskets melted away in the greenness of the wood and mingled with the mist...The earth groaned at the sound; there was a continual flash
of light, and the smoke, through which one could scarcely discern the moving figures of the gunners, blinded the eyes.”
Bruenig: Page 118: “Napoleon’s...was more concerned with arranging and ordering his version of the events of his career so as to impose an appearance of unity and coherence upon his achievements. The fruits of this effort
are to be seen in his memoirs, sometimes referred to as “the gospel according to St. Helena,” which often bear scant resemblance to events which actually took place and are particularly distorted when they deal with the
emperor’s intentions and motives.”
Reiners/Wilson: Page 79: “‘Bravery and presence of mind are found in the highway robber as much as in heroes; the only difference is that the conqueror is an illustrious robber who impresses by the scale of his actions and compels respect by the force at his command, whereas the average thief is a nameless ruffian, the more disreputable, the more despised. The former reaps laurels as the reward for his violence,, the other ends on the gallows.”
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