Sevastopol Sketches (Tolstoy)
Short summary
Sevastopol, Russian Empire, 1854-1855. During the Crimean War siege, Tolstoy portrayed the city's defense through three sketches. In December 1854, a visitor crossed the harbor and found ordinary people quietly performing duties amid constant bombardment. The military hospital revealed war's true nature - not glorious pageantry but human suffering endured with dignity. Wounded soldiers displayed quiet heroism, like an old sailor who lost his leg but spoke matter-of-factly about pain coming mostly from thinking too much.
The hero of my tale, whom I love with all the power of my soul, whom I have tried to portray in all his beauty, who has been, is, and will be beautiful—is Truth.
In May 1855, Lieutenant-Captain Mikhaylof returned to Sevastopol after recovering from wounds. He encountered the rigid social hierarchy that persisted even under siege - aristocratic staff officers treated line officers with condescension. Despite superstitious fears, Mikhaylof volunteered for duty at the bastions. During a night sortie, brutal hand-to-hand combat erupted. Captain Praskukhin died instantly from a bomb while Mikhaylof survived with head wounds. Dawn revealed hundreds of corpses, and during a truce, soldiers from both sides collected their dead, exchanging cigarettes with surprising friendliness.
In August 1855, brothers Michael and Vladimir Kozeltsof traveled to the besieged city. Vladimir, seventeen and fresh from military college, dreamed of glory but discovered terror instead. During the final allied bombardment on August 27th, French forces captured the crucial Malakhov Redoubt. Michael died leading a counterattack, while Vladimir fell defending his battery. With Sevastopol's position untenable, Russian forces evacuated, destroying fortifications and scuttling ships as they withdrew across the pontoon bridge to the north side.
Detailed summary by parts
Subtitles for the three parts and their division into sections are editorial.
In December 1854: First impressions of the besieged city
The first sketch opened with dawn breaking over Sevastopol in December 1854, as the city endured the early months of siege. A visitor crossing the bay by boat witnessed the strange mixture of war and everyday life that characterized the besieged fortress. The harbor bustled with activity as soldiers, sailors, and civilians went about their business amid the constant thunder of cannons from the bastions.
Some feeling of courage or pride surely enters your soul, and the blood flows faster in your veins, at the thought that you, too, are in Sevastopol.
The visitor's first impressions proved disappointing - instead of heroic enthusiasm, he found ordinary people quietly going about their daily tasks. The defenders showed no outward signs of the legendary courage that had made Sevastopol famous. However, this initial disenchantment gave way to profound respect when the visitor entered the military hospital and witnessed the true cost of the siege.
You will see war, not with its orderly, beautiful, and brilliant ranks, its music and beating drums, its waving banners... but war in its real aspect of blood, suffering, and death.
In the hospital, the visitor encountered wounded soldiers who displayed quiet heroism in their suffering. An old sailor who had lost his leg above the knee spoke matter-of-factly about his injury, explaining that pain came mostly from thinking too much about it. The hospital revealed the true nature of war - not glorious pageantry but human suffering endured with remarkable dignity.
It mostly all comes of thinking... If you don't think, it's nothing much. It mostly all comes of thinking.
In May 1855: An officers experience in the thick of battle
Mikhaylofs arrival and introduction to Sevastopol life
The second sketch focused on Lieutenant-Captain Mikhaylof, who returned to Sevastopol after recovering from a head wound.
Walking through Sevastopol, Mikhaylof dreamed of military glory and promotion while reading a letter from friends back home. His provincial acquaintances spoke of him as a hero, imagining romantic notions of his service that contrasted sharply with the grim reality. On the boulevard, military bands played while officers and civilians promenaded, maintaining an illusion of normalcy despite the ongoing bombardment.
Mikhaylof encountered the social hierarchy that dominated military life in Sevastopol. He longed to associate with the aristocratic staff officers but felt excluded by his humble origins and lack of connections. The rigid class distinctions persisted even under the constant threat of death.
Social interactions and preparations for duty
Mikhaylof briefly joined a group of aristocratic officers including Adjutant Kalougin and Prince Galtsin.
These officers treated Mikhaylof with polite condescension, allowing him to walk with them briefly before subtly excluding him from their circle. The encounter highlighted the pervasive vanity and social climbing that infected even the defenders of a besieged city.
Vanity! vanity! vanity! everywhere, even on the brink of the grave and among men ready to die for a lofty cause. Vanity! It seems to be the characteristic feature... of our time.
Despite not being scheduled for duty, Mikhaylof volunteered to replace an ill officer at the bastions. His sense of duty overcame his superstitious fear of the number thirteen - this would be his thirteenth time at the fortifications. He prepared for what he believed might be his final night, writing a farewell letter to his father.
The night action and battle at the bastions
Meanwhile, the aristocratic officers spent their evening in comfortable quarters, discussing Petersburg society and enjoying wine. When orders came for a sortie, Captain Praskukhin reluctantly joined the action.
The night battle erupted with terrible violence. Russian forces attacked French positions in hand-to-hand combat while bombs and shells exploded continuously. Mikhaylof led his company through the trenches under heavy fire, experiencing both terror and exhilaration. The fighting was chaotic and brutal, with men falling constantly around him.
During the retreat, Praskukhin walked alongside Mikhaylof when a bomb landed nearby. In the seconds before it exploded, Praskukhin's mind raced through memories of debts, loves, and regrets. The bomb killed him instantly, while Mikhaylof survived with a head wound. Baron Pesth participated in the assault and later boasted about his exploits, though his actual contribution was minimal.
Aftermath, casualties, and reflections on war
Dawn revealed the terrible cost of the night's fighting. The valley between the opposing lines was strewn with hundreds of corpses in grey and blue uniforms. During a brief truce, soldiers from both sides met to collect their dead, exchanging cigarettes and conversation with surprising friendliness.
Hundreds of bodies, freshly stained with blood... lay with stiffened limbs on the dewy, flowery valley... And, just as on other days, the dawn appeared over the Sapoún hill.
The sketch concluded with Tolstoy's reflection on the paradox of Christian nations engaged in mutual slaughter. Despite witnessing the carnage they had created, the soldiers did not fall to their knees in repentance but resumed fighting when the truce ended. The author questioned where good and evil lay in this tale, finding both virtues and flaws in all participants.
In August 1855: The final assault and evacuation
The Kozeltsof brothers journey to Sevastopol
The final sketch opened with Lieutenant Kozeltsof traveling toward Sevastopol in August 1855.
He encountered convoys of wounded soldiers leaving the city, their grim reports contrasting with his own ambitions for military glory. At a posting station, he met his younger brother Vladimir, fresh from military college.
Vladimir had volunteered for Sevastopol service, driven by patriotic idealism and dreams of heroism. The brothers' reunion was complicated by Michael's discovery that Vladimir owed money to fellow officers. After settling the debt, they traveled together toward the besieged city, their relationship strained by this financial embarrassment and their different perspectives on duty and honor.
As they approached Sevastopol, the sounds of bombardment grew louder and more ominous. Vladimir's romantic notions of war began to give way to apprehension as the reality of the siege became apparent. The brothers crossed the dangerous pontoon bridge under enemy fire, with Vladimir experiencing his first taste of genuine terror.
Settling into positions and preparing for battle
Vladimir was assigned to an artillery battery commanded by a practical officer who cared little for the young ensign's aristocratic pretensions. The battery included Lieutenant-Captain Kraut, a competent Russo-German officer.
Vladimir struggled with his fear and self-doubt, tormented by the possibility that he might prove to be a coward. His first night in the bombproof was spent in terror, listening to the constant bombardment and wrestling with his conscience. He was accompanied by Junker Vlang, who became devoted to him.
O Lord! am I really a vile, miserable coward... when it's for my Fatherland, for the Tsar, for whom I used to long to die? No! I am a miserable, wretched being!
Through prayer and self-reflection, Vladimir found the courage to face his duties. Meanwhile, Michael rejoined his regiment at the Fifth Bastion, where he encountered the grim realities of prolonged siege warfare. The officers had become hardened by months of constant danger, their initial enthusiasm replaced by weary professionalism.
Growing tension and preliminary engagements
The bombardment intensified as the allies prepared for their final assault. Vladimir was assigned to command a mortar battery, where he worked alongside experienced soldiers including the fearless Melnikof.
Despite his initial terror, Vladimir discovered reserves of courage when faced with actual combat. He successfully directed his battery's fire and found that action dispelled his fears. The soldiers respected his bravery and dedication, while Vlang remained constantly at his side, alternating between cowardice and devotion.
Deep in each soul dwells a noble spark, capable of making him a hero; but the spark wearies of burning—a fateful moment may come when it will flash into flame.
The officers at the bastions had developed a grim camaraderie, sustained by alcohol and gambling to cope with the constant stress. Michael participated in card games where officers risked money they didn't have, their behavior reflecting the moral degradation that prolonged warfare could produce. Yet beneath this surface corruption, the essential nobility of their sacrifice remained.
The great bombardment and assault begins
On August 27th, the final allied bombardment began with unprecedented intensity. The fortress shook under the heaviest artillery fire of the entire siege. Vladimir commanded his mortars with growing confidence, his fear replaced by professional competence and even a certain exhilaration in the face of danger.
The French assault commenced at noon, with enemy columns advancing across the valley toward the Russian positions. The Malakhov Redoubt, key to Sevastopol's defense, came under direct attack. Michael led his company in a desperate counterattack, displaying the courage that had sustained the garrison throughout the siege.
Fighting with desperate valor, Michael was mortally wounded while leading his men forward. As he lay dying, he asked whether the French had been repulsed. A priest, trying to comfort him, falsely assured him that victory was theirs, though the French flag already flew over the Malakhov. Michael died believing he had fulfilled his duty to the end.
Final battles and the evacuation of Sevastopol
Vladimir's battery was overrun by French troops attacking from behind. In the final moments, Vlang showed unexpected heroism, urging Vladimir to follow him to safety while wielding a linstock against the enemy. But Vladimir fell, killed by French fire, while Vlang escaped to witness the evacuation.
With the Malakhov captured, Sevastopol's position became untenable. The Russian command ordered the evacuation of the southern side of the city. Throughout the night, the defeated garrison crossed to the north side while explosions destroyed the fortifications they could no longer hold.
The evacuation proceeded in darkness, with soldiers, sailors, and civilians crowding the pontoon bridge under enemy observation. Ships were scuttled in the harbor, and the great fortifications that had withstood eleven months of siege were blown up by their own defenders. The withdrawal marked the end of one of history's most heroic defenses.
These people—Christians confessing the one great law of love and self-sacrifice—looking at what they have done, do not at once fall repentant on their knees.