Briggs: Pierre sees violent action in and around the Rayevsky redoubt.
Maude: Pierre at the Borodino bridge. Under fire. Goes to Raevski's Redoubt. His horse wounded under him. The Raevski Redoubt. The young officer. Pierre is accepted at the Redoubt as one of the family. The flame of hidden fire in the men's souls. Shortage of ammunition. Pierre sees ammunition wagons blown up
Pevear and Volokhosnky (Chapters 31-32): Pierre rides to the Ravsky redoubt. Among the artillerists. Around him the redoubt is taken and retaken.
Translation:
XXXI.
The general, behind which galloped Pierre, going down under the mountain, coolly turned to the left and Pierre, having lost him of kind, jumped up to the ranks of the infantry soldiers, marching ahead of him. He tried to leave from them forward, then to the left, then to the right; but everywhere were soldiers, with equally preoccupied faces, busy with some invisible, but obviously important business. All with equally displeased and interrogative looks looked at this thick man in a white hat, unknown for what trampling them with his horse.
— What rides in the middle of the battalion! — one shouted at him. Another pushed the butt of his horse, and Pierre, huddled to the bow and barely holding his shied away horse, jumped out forward of the soldiers, where it was spacious.
Ahead of him was a bridge, but at the bridge, shooting, were standing other soldiers. Pierre drove to them. Himself not knowing this, Pierre drove in to the bridge across the Koloch, which was between Gorky and Borodino, and at which the first action of the battle (occupying Borodino) attacked the French. Pierre saw that ahead of him was a bridge, and from both parties at the bridge and at the meadow, at those ranks of lying hay, which he saw yesterday, in the smoke soldiers did something; but, despite the incessant shooting happening at this location, he in no way thought that here was the field of the battle. He did not hear the noises of bullets, screeching from all parties, and the strikes, flying over across it, did not see the enemy, arriving on that side of the river, and for long did not see the slain and wounded, although many fell near from it. With a smile not coming off from his face, he looked around himself.
— What rides before this line? — again shouted someone at him.
— To the left, to the right take it, — he shouted.
Pierre took to the right and suddenly came together with a familiar to him adjutant of General Raevsky. This adjutant angrily looked at Pierre, obviously pulling together also to give a shout at him, but, upon learning of him, nodded his head.
— How are you here? — he spoke and galloped farther.
Pierre, feeling himself not in his location and without affairs, fearing to again hinder someone, galloped behind the adjutant.
— This here, is what again? Can I go with you? — he asked.
— Now, now, — was the response of the adjutant and, jumping to a thick colonel, standing at the meadow, delivered something to him and so now turned to Pierre.
— You what for are hit here, count? — he said to him with a smile. — All curious?
— Yes, yes, — said Pierre. Yet the adjutant, turning his horse, rode farther.
— Here thank God, — said the adjutant; — but at the left flank at Bagration’s a terrible roast is going.
— Is it really? — ask Pierre. — This is where again?
— Yes here go with me to the mound, from where it is seen. But we have a battery still passable, — said the adjutant. — What but, ride?
— Yes, I will go with you, — said Pierre, looking around himself and looking for the eyes of his horse trainer. Here only for the first time Pierre saw the wounded, wandering by foot and carried on stretchers. At this very meadow with odorous rows of hay, by which he drove through yesterday, across the ranks, awkwardly tucking his head, still lied one soldier with a fallen down shako. — But this from what is not raised? — was starting Pierre; but, seeing the strict face of the adjutant, looking back at that same side, he fell silent.
Pierre did not find his horse trainer and together with the adjutant went by the bottom of the hollow to the mound of Raevsky. The horse of Pierre was behind against the adjutant and evenly shook him.
— It is seen you are not used to riding on horseback, count? — asked the adjutant.
— No, nothing, but she very much jumps at something, — with perplexity said Pierre.
— Uh!... Yes it is wounded, — said the adjutant, — right, front, above the knee. It must be a bullet. Congratulations, count, — he said, — the baptism of fire.710
Driving in the smoke by the sixth corps, behind the artillery, which, putting forward shots, were stunning their own shots, they arrived to a small wood. In the wood was cool, quiet and it smelled of autumn. Pierre and the adjutant got off from their horses and by foot entered onto the mountain.
— Here is the general? — asked the adjutant, coming up to the mound.
— Now they were, go here, — pointing to the right, answering him.
The adjutant turned back to Pierre, as if not knowing what now to do with him.
— Do not worry, — said Pierre. — I will go to the mound, can I?
— Yes go, from there all is seen and is not so dangerous. But I will call for you.
Pierre went to the battery, and the adjutant went farther. They were not seen, and now much after Pierre found out that this adjutant on this day had his arm ripped off.
The mound, on which entered Pierre, was that famous (then famous to the Russians under the name of the barrow battery or the battery of Raevsky, but to the French under the name of the much redoubt, fatal redoubt, central redoubt)711 place, around which were put ten thousand people and which the French counted the most important point of positions.
This redoubt consisted of a mound, at which with three parties were dug up ditches. At the entrenched ditch location were standing nine shooting guns, protruding at the hole of shafts.
At the line with the mound were standing from both parties guns, also incessantly shooting. A little behind the guns were standing infantry troops. Entering on this mound, Pierre in no way thought that this entrenched small ditched place, at which stood and shot a few guns, was a very major place in the battle.
To Pierre, the opposite, it seemed that this place (it was because of how he was found out at it) was one of the most minor places of the battle.
Entering on the mound, Pierre sat down at the end of the ditches surrounding the battery and with an unconsciously joyful smile watched that what was done around him. Occasionally Pierre all with that same smile got up and, trying to not hinder soldiers, charging and rolling guns, incessantly running past him with bags and charges, paced by the battery. The guns from this battery incessantly one behind another fired, stunning their own sounds and covering all the surrounding with powder smoke.
At the counterposition was that creepy feeling, which was felt between the infantry soldiers in cover, here at the battery, where a not large number of people were busy with the limited business, separated from the other ditch, here felt equal and common to all, as would a family of revitalization.
The appearance of the non-military figure of Pierre in his white hat first unpleasantly struck these people. The soldiers, passing by him, were surprised and even scaredly squinted at his figure. An older artillery officer, tall with long feet, a pockmarked person, as if so that to look at the action of the extreme guns, came up to Pierre and curiously looked at him.
A young, chubby officer, still an absolute child, obviously only now released from the corps, disposing of the quite carefully entrusted to him two guns, strictly turned to Pierre.
— Sir, let me ask you from the roads, — he said to him, — here you cannot be.
The soldiers disapprovingly rocked their heads, looking at Pierre. Yet when all made sure that this person in a white hat not only not did no evil, but still sat on the slope of a shaft, or with a timid smile, courteously avoiding before the soldiers, paced by the battery under shots, so the same calmly, as by a boulevard, then little by little the sense of unfriendly perplexity to him began to go over to an affectionate and joking participation, like that, which soldiers have to its animals, dogs, roosters, goats, and to all animals, living in military teams. These soldiers now already mentally passed Pierre in its family, appropriating him to themselves and giving him the nickname: "our baron", about his nickname it was affectionately laughed between themselves.
Another cannonball exploded on the land two steps from Pierre. He, cleaning the sprinkled cannonball land from his dress, with a smile turned back around himself.
— And how of this are you not afraid, baron, right! — turned to Pierre a redhead broad soldier, grinning strong white teeth.
— But you aren't afraid? — asked Pierre.
— But that how again? — was the response of the soldier. — Because it has no mercy, it smacks, so intestines out. It cannot be to not be afraid, — he said laughing.
A few soldiers with fun and affectionate faces stopped beside Pierre. They were as if not awaiting for him to speak, as all, and this opening gladdened them.
— Our business is a soldier’s. But here a baron, so surprising. Here is such a baron!
— By places! — shouted the young officer at the gathered around Pierre soldiers. This young officer apparently carried out his position for the first or second time, and because of this with a special distinctness and form approached with the soldiers and with the chief.
The erratic firing of the guns and weapons intensified by all the weeds, in particular to the left, there where were the flushes of Bagration, but from behind the smoke of shots, from this place where was Pierre, it could not be to see almost anything. Moreover the security for that, as would a family (separated from all others) circle of people, was in the battery, absorbed all the attention of Pierre. His first unconsciously joyful excitement, produced by the look and sounds of the field of the battle, was replaced now, in particular after this kind lonely lying soldier in the meadow, by another feeling. Sitting now at the slope of the ditches, he watched the surrounding him faces.
At the tenth hour already twenty people were carried away from the battery; two guns were smashed, and more and more often in the battery hit shells, and flew in buzzing and whistling distant bullets. Yet the people, formerly in the battery, as if did not notice this; from all parties was heard merry dialect and jokes.
— A pomegranate! — shouted a soldier at the approaching, flying with a whistle grenade — Not here! To the infantry! — with laughter added another, noticing that the grenade flew over and hit in the ranks of the cover.
— What, familiar? — laughed another soldier to a sat down peasant under the flying cannonball.
A few soldiers gathered at the shaft, looking at that what was done ahead.
— And the chain took off, you see, backwards they have passed, — they said, digging across the shaft.
— Their business to see, — shouted at them an old noncommissioned officer. — Backwards they have passed, means back is where the business is. — And the noncommissioned officer, taking behind one shoulder of the soldier, pushed his knee. Was heard laughter.
— To the fifth gun, roll up! — shouted from one of the parties.
— At once, friendlier, by burlack, — was heard the funny shouting changer of the gun.
— Oh, our master’s hat a little bit not knocked down, — showing teeth, laughed at Pierre the redhead joker. — Oh, awkward, — he reproachfully added at a cannonball, hitting at the wheel and the leg of a man. — Well you foxes! — laughed another at the curving militias, entering in the battery behind the wounded. — Or not tasty porridge? Ah, ravens, stabbed! — he shouted at the militias, hesitating before the soldier with the torn off foot. — The tое some, a little, — mimicked the peasant. — passion not love!
Pierre noticed how after each hit shot, after each loss, all more and more flared up the common revitalization.
As from advancing thunderstorm clouds, more and more often, lighter and lighter flashed in the faces of all these people (as would in an ongoing rebuff) lighting a hidden, flaring up fire.
Pierre did not watch the forward field of the battle and was not interested in knowing about what was done there: he was all absorbed in the contemplation of this all more and more flaring up fire, which exactly so the same (he felt) flared up in his soul.
At the ninth hour the infantry soldiers, formerly ahead of the battery in the bushes and by the river Kamenka, retreated. From the battery it was seen how they ran backwards past it, carrying on their guns wounded. Some general with a suite entered on the mound and, talking with the colonel, angrily looking at Pierre, came down again downwards, ordering the covering infantry standing behind the battery, to lie down, so that to be subjected to less shots. Following behind these ranks of infantry, to the right of the battery, was heard a drum, commands shouting, and from the battery it was seen how the ranks of the infantry moved forward.
Pierre watched across the shaft. One face especially was thrown in his eye. This was an officer, who with a pale, young face was walking backwards, carrying a lowered sword, and anxiously looking around.
The ranks of the infantry soldier hid in smoke, was heard their lingering shout and the frequent shooting of guns. In a few minutes a crowd of wounded and stretchers passed from there. In the battery still more often began to hit shells. Some people lied uncleared. About the guns more troublesome and livelier moved the soldiers. No one now turned attention to Pierre. Two times he was angrily shouted at for that he was in the way. The older officer with a frowned face, with large, fast steps went over from one gun to another. The young officer, still more reddened, still harder commanded the soldiers. The soldiers served the charges, turned, charged and did their business with a tense panache. They went bouncing as on springs.
The thunderous cloud moved forward, and brightly in all faces burned that fire, behind the flaring up which watched Pierre. He stood beside the elder officer. The young officer ran up, with a hand to the shako of the senior.
— I have the honor to report, sir colonel, we have only eight charges, whether you order to continue to fire? — he asked.
— Buckshot! — not answering shouted the older officer, watching across the shafts.
Suddenly something happened; the officer gasped and curling up sat down on the land, as flies a wounded bird. All was made weird, not clear and mainly cloudy, in the eyes of Pierre.
One behind another whistled shots and fighting at the parapet, at the soldier, at the guns. Pierre, before not hearing these noises, now only heard these sounds alone. The side view of the battery, the right, with screaming "hoorah" ran soldiers not forward, but backwards, as it seemed to Pierre.
A cannon ball stroked at the very edge of the shaft, before which stood Pierre, poured land, and in his eyes flashed a black ball, and at that same instant slapped something. The militias, included in the battery, ran backwards.
— All buckshot! — shouted the officer.
The noncommissioned officer ran up to the senior officer and in a scared whisper (as for dinner reports a butler to a host that there is no more required wine) said that there were no more charges.
— Robbers, what to do! — shouted the officer, turning around to Pierre. The face of the elder officer was red and his sweaty, frowning eyes shone. — Run to the reserves, bring boxes! — he shouted, angrily going around the look of Pierre and turning to his soldier.
— I will go, — said Pierre. The officer, not answering him, in large steps went to another side.
— Not to fire... Wait! — he shouted.
The soldier, who was ordered to go for the charges, faced with Pierre.
— Oh, baron, there is not a place for you here, — he said and ran downwards.
Pierre ran behind the soldier, going around that place at which sat the young officer.
One, another, a third cannon ball flew by above him, hit ahead, from the sides, to the back. Pierre escaped downwards. "Where am I?" he suddenly remembered, already running up to green boxes. He stopped in indecision, going to his backwards or forward. Suddenly a terrible push threw him backwards, on the land. At that same instant shined much fire illuminating him, and at that same moment rang out a deafening, ringing in the ears thunder, crackle and whistling.
Pierre, waking up, sat on his rear, leaning his hands about the land; the box, about which he was, was not; only lied around green, burnt boards and rags in scorched grass, and a horse, ruffling in the wreckage of the shafts, galloped from him, but another, so the same as Pierre himself, lied on the land and piercingly, lingeringly screamed.
710 le baptême du feu. (the baptism of fire.)
711 la grande redoute, la fatale redoute, la redoute du centre (the great redoubt, the fatal redoubt, the central redoubt)
Time: see previous chapter, ten o'clock, a few minutes later
Locations: Kolocha, Raevski's mound (also Mound Battery, Raevski's Battery, la grande redoute (great redoubt in Briggs), la fatale redoute (fatal redoubt in Briggs.), and la redoute du centre (center redoubt in Briggs.)
Mentioned: Gorki, Borodino, French, Kamenka
Pevear and Volokhonsky Notes:
Pierre loses the general and ends up riding in the middle of a battalion, which angers the soldiers around him. The actions of both him and the soldiers are invisible or for unknown reasons. "soldiers were doing something in the smoke" is a phrase that encapsulates a lot of it. Pierre then gets oriented and rides with someone to go see the left flank where Bagration is and where things are getting really bad. Pierre's horse gets wounded and with the help of Raevsky's adjutant, who would lose his arm that day, walks up to the battery that the French considered the most important point of the position.
Pierre has no idea how important it is and is happy the entire time.
"In contrast to the dread that was felt among the covering infantrymen, here at the battery, where a small number of people, busy with their work, were restricted, separated from the others by a trench--here one could feel a sort of family animation, the same and common to them all."
Tolstoy spends quite a bit of time talking about how the soldiers around Pierre receive him, accept him like an animal, and make fun of him. In a call back to the earlier war portions of the novel, despite the artillery guns being under heavy fire, the soldiers are merry and almost do not notice it, referring to the cannonballs as women. The men are cartoonish and speak in almost nonsense, just like the peasants, who are deliberately referenced. Things begin to get worse as the guns are disappearing more and more and the infantry begin to lie down to avoid being shot. Pierre watches someone die and "Everything became strange, vague, and bleak in Pierre's eyes."
Pierre volunteers to get more charges and nearly gets hit with a cannonball, which causes him to fall.
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 *):
Pierre (and his horse. Also called "count", "barin", and "Our Gentleman".)
General Rayevsky (his adjutant plays a large role in the chapter.)
Bagration
Abridged Versions: No break in Bell.
Gibian: Chapter 31.
Fuller: Chapter is preserved and followed by a line break.
Komroff: A lot of the description of Pierre's early feelings and initial interactions with the soldiers is removed, as well as the majority of his time with Raevsky's adjutant. A lot of conversation the artillerymen have where they ape peasants is removed. Chapter is followed by a line break.
Kropotkin: Entire chapter is cut.
Bromfield: Chapter 12: Pierre rides at six in the morning while thinking about his conversation with Andrei and watches the puffs of smoke. He looks for General Bennigsen while soldiers are angry he is walking among them. He sees Bagration riding out of the smoke and begins to get shot at and "he was trembling all over and his teeth were chattering." He sees an Uhlan whose arm has been ripped off and is begging for vodka. Pierre tries to help and look for the dressing station and runs into Prince Andrei who tries to get him to run away.
Simmons: Chapter 31: a lot of the humorous moments in the chapter are cut, making it a more straightforward war scene. The discussion about Raevski's mound is cut.
Additional Notes:
At Raevsky's redoubt today stands the Principal Monument to Russian Forces.
Briggs: To take a specific example: Pierre, watching a cannonball crashes down into the Rayevsky redoubt and takes a man's leg off, hears another soldier call out in response: 'Ekh! Neskladnaya!' (III, II, 31). The English versions of this are: 'Ekh! You beastly thing!' (Dole); 'O, awkward one!' (Weiner); 'Hey, awkward hussy!' (Garnett); 'Awkward baggage!' (Maude); 'Oh you hussy!' (Edmonds); 'Ah, you're a bungler!' (Dunnigan). Curiously enough the best in terms of natural speech is Clara Bell's: 'Ah, you brute!' The original, with connotations of both awkwardness and feminity, is rather difficult to translate, but one thing is certain: no soldier in the heat of battle ever said anything like most of the phrases we have been offered so far."
"The previous translations of War and Peace have erred slightly too much on the puritan side, literal fidelity being set at a higher premium than writing naturally in English. It is now time to move somewhat in the other direction."
Segur/Townsend: Page 75: "Caulaincourt replied, "You'll see me up there very soon--dead or alive!" With that he dashed off and mowed down everything that stood in his way. Then, having led his cuirassiers around to the left, he was the first to enter this gory redoubt, but a bullet struck and killed him. His conquest became his grave!"
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