Briggs: Pierre watches the battlefield from a mound at Gorki.
Maude: Pierre views the battlefield from the knoll at Gorki
Pevear and Volokhonsky: Pierre observes the battle from Gorki. He rides to the bridge over the Kolocha.
Translation:
XXX.
Returning from Prince Andrey at Gorky, Pierre, ordering the owner to prepare horses and in the early morning to wake him up, immediately already fell asleep behind the partition, in the corner which Boris yielded to him.
When Pierre really woke up on the next morning, in the hut now was nobody. Glasses rattled in the small windows. The horse trainer stood, pushing him.
— Your excellency, your excellency, your excellency... — stubbornly, not looking at Pierre and apparently having lost hopes in waking him up, rocking him behind the shoulder, sentenced the horse trainer.
— What? Started? Time? — began talking Pierre, waking up.
— Please hear the firing, — said the horse trainer, a retired soldier; — now all the gentlemen have raised, the lordly himself a long time ago drove through.
Pierre hastily dressed and ran out to the porch. On the courtyard it was clear, fresh, dewy and funny. The sun, only now breaking free from behind the clouds, overshadowing it, splashed before the half broken cloud rays across the roofs of the opposite streets, to the covered in dew dust roads, on the walls of the houses, on the windows, the fence and on the horses of Pierre, standing at the huts. The rumble of the guns was clearly heard in the courtyard. By the street broke through an adjutant with a Cossack.
— Time, count, time! — screamed the adjutant.
Ordering to lead behind by himself a horse, Pierre went by the street to the mound, from which he yesterday watched on the field of the battle. On this mound was a crowd of the military and was heard the French dialect of the staff, and could be seen the gray hair of the head of Kutuzov, with his white with red band cap and gray back of his head, going down on his shoulders. Kutuzov watched in a pipe forward by the big road.
Entering by the steps of the entry on the mound, Pierre looked ahead of himself and froze from admiration before the beauty of the spectacle. This was that same panorama, which he admired yesterday from this mound; but now all this terrain was covered in troops and the smoke of shots, and the oblique rays of the bright sun, rising back to the left of Pierre, throwing on him in the clean morning the air raw with a gold and pink tint of light and dark, long shadows. The distant forest, finishing the panorama, exactly whipped from that precious yellow-green stone, were seen its curved line of peaks in the horizon, and between them behind Valuev erupted the big Smolensk road, all covered in troops. Nearer shone a gold field and copses. Everywhere, in the front, right and left, were seen troops. All this was lively, majestical and sudden; but that, what only more struck Pierre — was the view of the field of the battle itself, Borodino and the hollows above Koloch by both sides of it.
Above the Koloch, at Borodino and by both sides of it, especially to the left, there, where, at the swampy banks, the Voyna flows at the Koloch, stood fog, which melting, ran and shined through at the output of the bright sun, and the enchanting colors and outlines were all visible through it. To this fog joined smoke shots, and by this fog and smoke everywhere shone the lightning of the morning light, then by the water, then by the dew, then by the bayonets of the troops, crowded by the shores and at Borodino. Through this fog could be seen a white church, somewhere in the roofs of the huts of Borodino, somewhere the solid masses of soldiers, somewhere green boxes and guns. And all this moved or seemed to be moving because of how the fog and smoke dragged on by all this space. As in this lower terrain about Borodino, covered in fog, so and beyond it, above and especially to the left throughout the lines, by the forests, by the fields, lower, at the peaks of elevation, were born incessantly by themselves from nothing, cannon, that lonely, that herd, that rare, that frequent clubs of smoke, that, swollen, growing, swirling, merging, were seen by all this space.
These smoke shots, and, weird to say, their sounds produced the main beauty of the spectacle.
"Puff!" — suddenly was seen the round, dense, play of purple, gray and milky-white colors — the smoke, and "boom!" — was heard through a second sound of this smoke.
"Puff-puff," rose two smokes, pushing and merging; and "boom-boom" confirmed the sounds that what saw the eye.
Pierre looked around at the first smoke, which left a round, tight ball, and now at his location were balls of smoke, stretching on the side and a puff... (with a stop) a puff-puff — were born still three, still four, and at everyone of those same constellations of boom... boom-boom-boom — answered the beautiful, solid, faithful sounds. It seemed that, how this smoke ran, that what they were standing, and past them ran the forest, field and brilliant bayonets. From the left parties by the fields and bushes incessantly were born this large smoke with their own solemn echoes, and, nearer still by the bottom and the forests flashed a small, not succeeding to round off the haze of the guns, and exactly so the same gave their small echoes. Trah-ta-ta-tah, — cracked the guns and although often, but not rightly and poorly in comparison with the gunshots.
Pierre wanted to be there, where was this smoke, these brilliant bayonets, this movement, these sounds. He turned back at Kutuzov and at his retinue, so that check their impression with others. All exactly so the same as he, and, as to him it seemed, with that same feeling looked forward at the field of battle. In all faces glowed now that hidden heat (chaleur latente) feeling, which Pierre noticed yesterday and which he got completely after his conversation with Prince Andrey.
— Ride, darling, ride, Christ with you, — spoke Kutuzov, not lowering his eye from the field of battle, to the general, standing beside him.
Listening to the order, this general passed by Pierre, outright from mound.
— To the crossing! — coldly and strictly said the general in answer to the question of one of the staff, where he rode.
"And I, and I," thought Pierre and went by the direction behind the general.
The general sat down on a horse, which was given to him by a Cossack. Pierre came up to his owner, holding the horses. Asking, which was more humble, Pierre climbed on a horse, grabbed behind the mane, pressed his inverted heels feet to the belly of the horse, and feeling that his glasses declined and that he it was not in his forces to take away his hands from the mane and reins, galloped behind the general, exciting a smile in the staff, from the mound watching him.
Mentioned: the day before
Locations: Gorki
Mentioned: Valuevo, Smolensk, Borodino, Kolocha, Voyna, the ford (crossing in Maude. Pevear and Volokhonsky, and Briggs)
Pevear and Volokhonsky Notes: We now flip to Pierre's groom who has to wake Pierre up when the battle begins. The chapter spends a lot of time in description. "It was lively, majestic, and unexpected; but what struck Pierre most of all was the sight of the battlefield itself, Borodino and the hollows above the Kolocha on both sides of it."
The battlefield is covered by a moving mist and is then followed by the smoke of the cannons and guns. Pierre sees the "hidden warmth" in the suite of Kutuzov that he noticed in Andrei. Pierre decides to follow a general to the crossing and the chapter bookends humor as the officers are laughing at Pierre trying to ride his horse while his glasses are falling off.
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 Andrei
Pierre (also his horses and his "equerry" or groom that had once been a soldier. Also called "illustriousness" and "count".)
Boris
Kutuzof (also "serene highness".)
Abridged Versions: Start of Chapter 4 in Bell with no break.
Gibian: Chapter 30.
Fuller: The section with the puffs of smoke is either severely shortened or removed but chapter is basically preserved and followed by a line break.
Komroff: The intro of the chapter is removed almost entirely, getting to the groom waking Pierre up much quicker. The initial long description of the battlefield is shortened significantly as is the puffs of smoke. The way Kutuzov and his suite's feeling toward the battle is worded in a way that does not mention Prince Andrei but matches Pierre's own feelings. The humor at the end of the chapter is also removed. Followed by a line break.
Kropotkin: Entire chapter is cut.
Bromfield: No real corresponding chapter.
Simmons: Chapter 30: A lot of the description of the battlefield that makes up the meat of the chapter is removed, as is the humor at the end of the chapter.
Additional Notes:
Walter/Carruthers: Chapter 1: "the huge cannonballs flew by above us (?), thundering so violently that we would have believed the earth would burst to pieces...all sorts of shells and rockets broke out of the fortress like a cloudburst."
Denisov/Troubetzskoy: Page 37: "As the armies moved forward, a heavy snowstorm struck, making it impossible to see anything more than a few steps away...I have to say in truth that over the course of the sixteen campaigns in my service record and throughout the period of all the Napoleonic campaigns, I have never seen anything to compare with it! For about half an hour you could not hear a cannon or a musket shot, only the indescribable roar of thousands of brave soldiers as they cut one another to pieces in hand-to-hand combat. Mounds of dead bodies were covered by new mounds; soldiers were tumbling in their hundreds on top of each other, so that this corner of the battlefield resembled a high parapet of some hastily erected barricade."
Speirs: Page 44: “Tolstoy intimates that henceforth each character in the novel is to be seen from two points of view - “his individual life” and “his elemental swarm-life.” The further away one stands from individuals, the more clearly one sees how helpless they are in the arrangement of their affairs...Tolstoy...is concerned with the question of responsibility - the problems of guilt and retribution.”
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