On the precipice of the Battle of Austerlitz, Tolstoy illustrates the bravado and immaturity of youth.

Here, I explore how Tolstoy incorporates elements of his own vice from his younger days, including pride and ambition. Both his early and late material speak to this, most notably personal journals from his time at university as well as the spiritual work, My Confession, written in 1879, when in his early 50s. The latter was an attempt to grapple with eternal questions such as: What am I doing?, and Why am I here? Tolstoy pursues answers in the mold of how Solomon (or “the Preacher”) is presented as taking them on in Ecclesiastes.

Tolstoy appears to have reached the conclusion that those outside his social class (most notably humble peasants) have a higher chance of living in virtue and connecting with the Almighty. He implicitly argues for a reversion to a more simple Faith based on the Teachings of Christ.

Early in Confession, Tolstoy famously wrote:

I cannot think of those years without horror….. I killed men in war and challenged men to duels…. I lost at cards, consumed the labor of the peasants, sentenced them to punishments, lived loosely and deceived people. Lying, robbery, adultery of all kinds, drunkenness, violence, murder -- there was no crime I did not commit, and in spite of that people praised my conduct and my contemporaries considered and consider me to be a comparatively moral man.

He could barely imagine such depravity among the peasant class.

Tolstoy also references his early skepticism of the Russian Orthodox Church, especially as to rituals and teachings found outside the Gospel, such as certain prayers and the veneration of saints.

He reflects that his “false faith” became trying to become the perfect earthly man and he rigorously tried to formulate methods to achieve success.

Some of Tolstoy’s suggestions, taken from his journals, are: never hesitate to speak before onlookers; lead the conversation and speak deliberately; do not constantly move from conversation to conversation or language or language; seek the company of High Society; and invite the most important ladies – as that will be the event to be at!

An aunt who helped raise him strongly suggested that he have relations with a married woman of the highest status – as she believed nothing so fully formed a young man. She also wanted him to become an aide-de-camp, if possible to the Emperor. She further advised to marry into extreme wealth and become possessed of as many serfs as possible.

Tolstoy’s journals continue in a self-help fashion, suggesting: do not put off what you set out to do; make an effort and the thoughts and ideas of how to achieve goals will come; write down your plan and do not get up from the table until you make sufficient progress.

Tolstoy also set regimented schedules for himself: 9-10 a.m.: Bathe and exercise, 10-12 a.m,: Music, play a least four pages of sheets, all scales and chords; 6-8 p.m.: Attend to his studies; 8-10 p.m.: Estate management.

His time at the University of Kazan was an intense period of self-observation and served as a preparatory stage, filled with experimentation and vice, for where he wound up.

Ultimately, Tolstoy came to realize his aristocratic peers developed this heightened arrogance, believing they are in the best position guide their fellow man. The rejection of such self-perfection efforts was significant to Tolstoy developing into an elderly sage, where pilgrimages were made to his estate.

It is manifestly important to consider how Tolstoy embraces General Kutuzov as Napoleon’s opposite - as more Godly and attuned to the unknowable nature of life. This symbolic depiction made the old general a national hero.

This episode finishes by examining how the sinful ambitions he very much shared are fused into the characters of Napoleon, Boris, Berg, Anatole, Vasilly, Andrei, Pierre and Nicholas.

Three days after the review and a near 40 mile march south, Denisov’s squadron was assigned to be a reserve unit in the early stages of the monumental Battle of Austerlitz.

Rostov was in something of a depression, as he wasted the inner struggle it took to conquer his apprehension. While idle, he observed squadrons of Cossacks, hussars, infantry and artillery pass. Around 9 a.m., he heard firing and shouts. Later, a handful of French prisoners were brought back. A successful small affair culminated and the Village of Wishau was taken, building false confidence. The morning glitter of the sun was in keeping with news of the victory.

Denisov tried to cheer up Rostov, “Come here. Let’s dwink to dwown our gwief!” A fellow Hussar soon noticed: “There! They are bringing another!,” pointing to a captive French dragoon along with his horse. Denisov was able to buy the horse for two gold pieces with money from Rostov. The prisoner was from Alsace, a Rhine border area heavily influenced by German speakers. The Hussars realized their prisoner brought aspects of culture so alien to them. Such contacts and influences would have profound impact on the progression of history.

The day takes a dramatic upon shouts of “The Emperor! The Emperor!” as The Imperial Guard was spotted. All regret at not getting into action vanished and Rostov mounted his horse with joy. Nearer to him came that human sun and Rostov felt enveloped in his rays.

Rostov again heard Alexander’s voice, so kindly and calm, inquiring if he was passing “The Pavlograd Hussars.” The Emperor drew level with Rostov and halted. Alexander’s face shone with gaiety and youth. Rostov believed the Emperor’s light blue eyes met his but could only hope Alexander understood what was within his soul. The Czar soon signaled his horse and galloped away.

Tolstoy describes how Alexander could not resist being present and was thrilled by news of the successful engagement. The battle was represented as a brilliant victory, however, there was a mistaken belief that a solid portion of the French were retreating.

The Pavlograds were ordered to advance to Wischau -- described as a quant German town. Rostov saw the Emperor for a third time, here at a market place where there had been heavy firing and lay several killed and wounded.

The Emperor was riding a mare and leaning while holding at some magnifying glasses (a lorgnette). He gazed at a bleeding soldier who was so revolting that his proximity to royalty bothered Rostov. An adjutant lifted the soldier to place him on a stretcher, causing the soldier to groan. The Czar, so enthusiastic to put men in peril, instructed: “Gently, gently! Can’t you do it more gently?” Soon enough he rode away. Rostov saw tears filling the Emperor’s eyes and heard him say to his close advisor, Adam Czartorýski: “What a terrible thing war! Quelle terrible chose que la guerre!”

Soon enough, the Pavlograd Hussars were stationed before Wischau. The Emperor’s gratitude was announced, rewards were promised and the men received a double ration of vodka. The campfires crackled and soldiers’ songs resounded.

Denisov celebrated a promotion to the rank of major, and Rostov, quite inebriated, proposed a toast. To the “the health of our Sovereign, that good, enchanting and great man! Let us drink to his health and to the certain defeat of the French! If we fought before, not letting the French pass at Schön Grabern, what shall we not do now when he is at the front? We will all die for him gladly! Is it not so? Perhaps I am not saying it right, I have drunk a good deal—but that is how I feel, and so do you! To the health of Alexander the First!" Hurrah! Hurrah!” responded the Hussars. Even the old cavalry captain, Kirsten, shouted no less sincerely.

Later that night, Denisov patted Rostov and announced: “As there’s no one to fall in love with on campaign, he’s fallen in love with the Czar!.” Rostov told Denisov not to belittle his emotions and walked off to wander among the campfires, dreaming of what happiness it would be to die—not in saving the Emperor’s life but simply to die before his eyes. He was in love with the Czar and the hope of future triumph. He was hardly the only one to experience such pathos in those memorable moments preceding the true affair at Austerlitz.

The day after the review, Boris rides to Olmütz to build on his burgeoning relationship with Andrei, with the goal of obtaining a position of adjutant. He reflected, “It is all well for Rostov, whose father sends him 20,000 rubles at a time, to NOT wish to be anyone’s lackey, but I who have little but my brains, must not miss any opportunity!”

Olmütz was transformed into the headquarters where the Emperors resided. When Boris inquired of Andrei, he was shunned by officials who grew tired of the number of low-level officers who were coming and going. He learned Andrei would return the next day, so at that time Boris visited Kutuzov’s quarters and found Andrei in a reception room. He noticed Andrei with an older General, who was hardly keeping Andrei’s interest. Andrei, clearly part of the inner circle of influence, was ecstatic to interrupt the old man and turned to Boris with a smile. Boris realized that besides discipline, subordination and order prescribed in the official Army code, there was a more important way of life, which forced the General to the sideline. Boris resolved to become part of this higher world.

Andrei informed Boris that he had been occupied with the Austrian command and references the historic General Franz von Weyrother, who plays a critical role in the upcoming Battle of Austerlitz. Boris could only pretend to understand who Andrei was alluding to. Andrei conveys that he will recommend Boris for a position as an adjunct. Boris is thankful and very much desires an audience with Kutuzov but Andrei explains the commander’s staff is overflowing with many who have no use.

Andrei wishes to refer Boris to the historic advisor to the Czar, Peter Dolgorúkov, who Andrei labels “a good friend and excellent fellow.” Therefore, they went to the local palace where a significant council of war of the Hofkriegsrat and Russian Command just finished.

The consensus was to advance and vanquish Napoleon. Dolgorúkov was under the spell of the event, where the ambitions misguided youth prevailed. This was contrary to the views of Kutuzov. All voices who counseled delay were silenced by conclusive evidence of the victory that awaited. The advantages included: superior numbers, the perceived quality of troops, knowledge of the terrain, and that the allies were inspired by the Emperors.

Dolgorúkov was exhausted but eager for inevitable victory. Andrei introduced his protégé, but Dolgorúkov was unable to get beyond the impending action. Dolgorúkov referenced how Napoleon sent a letter, proposing peace, which was viewed as a ruse to gain time. Tolstoy brings out the historic affront crafted in response. Dolgorúkov explains “What was most amusing was how we could not think how to address our reply! Not to Napolean as ‘Consul’ nor ‘Emperor,’ or ‘General Bonaparte.’” The fictional Diplomat Bilibin jokingly suggested “Usurper and Enemy of Mankind.” What was agreed on was: To the Head of the French Government / Au chef du gouvernement français.

Andrei acknowledges how much Napoleon will be insulted, which makes Dolgorúkov recall a tale about Napoleon, who held held a reputation “as the most cunning and subtle diplomat, a combination of French adroitness and Italian play-acting!” On one purported occasion, Bonaparte wished to take the measure of a Russian ambassador, Count Markov, and purposely dropped a handkerchief and then stood looking at Markov, expecting Markov to assist. Instead, Markov dropped his own and picked it up without touching Bonaparte’s.

When Andrei reintroduces Boris, the young man receives passing acknowledgment, but is told his appeal will be addressed another time. Still, Boris was enraptured by his surroundings. He recognized he was among the springs that set in motion enormous movements of men. If left just in his regiment, he would consider himself an obedient and insignificant atom.

As exiting, they all noticed a short man with a clever face and sharply projecting jaw, who nodded to Dolgorúkov as to an intimate friend but stared at Andrei with cool intensity. “Who was that?” asked Boris. Andrei explained, “He is one of the most remarkable, but to me most unpleasant of men—the Minister of Foreign Affairs, Prince Adam Czartorýski.... It is such men as he who decide the fate of nations.”

Tolstoy is referencing an extremely significant Polish statesman, who lived to just over 90. At the time of the novel is set, Czartorýski was a close friend and trusted advisor to Tsar Alexander, but was later famous for trying restore sovereignty to Poland.