We have reached the pivotal chapter involving the death of the Little Princess and birth of the Andrei’s son.

Andrei was the one thought lost. Yet Tolstoy has him return home as his wife endures child labor. Her suffering is a subject personal to Tolstoy as his own mother succumbed five months after the birth of his sister, when Tolstoy was nearly two years old.

This loss can be viewed as a punishment for Andrei’s vanity even though Andrei acknowledged and is trying to overcome his impiety. A lesson may be: there is no sin without consequence.

The Bolkonsky household had been overwhelmed with despair by Andrei’s status –– he is a symbolic good man, who was thought lost in a vain war.

When Andrei has the brief opportunity to see his wife, they dramatically take one another in. Lise is ailing. She is in need of the Lord’s grace and a medical miracle. To her, Andrei must appear out of a vision. Andrei, who has rarely been affectionate to Lise, recognizes what he should have valued is right before him.

He is finally there for her – at her final moment. He addresses her as Ma chérie (My Darling). He tries to comfort her by referencing the “mercy of God.” When the birth pangs resumed, Andrei was asked to exit. The German doctor hoped he could get Lise through the ordeal but the medical situation worsened. There came a point where the Lise sounded like a piteous and moaning animal.

Andrei tried to get back to her, but the room was locked. Soon, his wife’s screaming ceased and there was a terrible shriek of another woman. This was a reaction to Lise succumbing. Thereafter, arose heard the wail of an infant. Andrei was filled wonder and bewilderment. He realizes he is a father and breaks down.

The doctor came out and walked by Andrei without a word. Andrei went to see his wife, but she was no longer. She lied there with fixed open eyes and a staid expression. Her charming countenance revealed: “I love you all and have done no harm to anyone; and what have you done to me?” She is presented as taking on the sins of those around her.

Three days later the Little Princess was buried and Andrei knew in all of his soul that he was guilty of something he could neither remedy nor forget. This included pursuing military glory when he could have remained closer to her. Another five days passed and then the baby, the young Prince Nicholas Andréevich (which means son of Andrei) was baptized.

As referenced, Tolstoy never knew his own mother, Marya Volkonskya. His mother died roughly five months after the birth of his sister, Marya Nikolaevna Tolstaya, due to complications from the birth. You can see how the name of his mother and sister made its way into what you are reading. Tolstoy appears to be putting all this pathos from his family history into this moment. One could envision the author imagining how his mother looked in death.

Many scholars assert that Tolsoty placed an idealized view of his mother upon the character of Andrei’s sister -- Marya. There is substance to that. Nevertheless, some of this historical influence also likely made it into this final scene with Lise. It is understood that Tolstoy heard family stories and develop affection for his mother. In this chapter, the author saints his mother, in some respect, in having a character who shared his mother's fate take on the sins of her time while bringing forth new life who will have the chance to make the world better.

Lastly, Tolstoy’s mother was from the wealthier side of his family, with a surname that will look familiar to you – Volkonsky. It was Tolstoy's mother who was the heiress to the vast country estate of Yasnaya Polyana, a land which has been compared to the estate of the fictional Bolkonsky family estate of Bald Hills.

We move further into March of 1806 and return to Bald Hills, the estate of Andrei’s father. Despite letters and official inquiries, Andrei’s body had not been found nor was he on the list of prisoners.

The newspapers had reported the defeat at Austerlitz in brief and vague terms -- after months of detailing a series of optimistic and brilliant engagements. Nikolai was able to read between the lines and intuited the extent of the defeat. Eventually came a correspondence from Kutuzov: “Your son fell before my eyes, a standard in his hand and at the head of a regiment—he fell as a hero, worthy of his father and his fatherland.” However, no body was recovered.

The elder Bolkonsky became grim and withdrawn and revealed what he learned to his daughter. He focuses on the likelihood that Andrei is dead. Marya embraced her father with great love and empathy. She wished to mourn together, but her father exhorts disgust about the use and fate of the Army. “Scoundrels! Destroying the army and men! And why?" He instructs Marya to convey what is known to Andrei’s wife. The princess sank into an armchair and wept. She visualized her brother as he had been when he left -- when he was tender and amused as she placed the little icon on him. She wondered if he grasped a faith of The Almighty and repented of any unbelief. She deliberated whether he was now in the realm of "eternal peace and blessedness." Nikolai focuses on his belief that Andrei was likely killed as so much of the Glory of the Country.

Marya tries to speak to her sister-in-law. At first, Lise was caught up thinking and speaking about the wonder of baby she was about to have, how beautiful it felt within her and how much she would love it.

Marya thinks it best to break the news in small doses –– and first conveys, through tears, how worried she has been over her husband. Before dinner, Nikolai, whom Lise was always afraid of, made an awkward attempt to visit his ailing daughter-in-law. Lise, lost in a world of thought only seen in pregnant women, began to cry and asked if there was word about Andrei. Neither Father or Daughter could pull up the curtain and Marya eventually relayed it was “too soon for news.” It would be better to wait until after the baby arrived, who was expected in a few days.

Marya and her father carried and hid their grief in their own way. The old general would not cherish any hope. In one sense, he made up his mind that his son had been killed, but nevertheless sent an official to Austria to seek for any traces of his son. He would tell his acquaintances that his son had been killed and ordered a monument to his memory. He tried not to change his routine but his strength failed him. He walked, ate, and slept less. He became weaker. Marya still held out hope.

The mood of the household became one of general sorrow. The Little Princess absorbed the mood and started to look sickly and pale. She became overwhelmed by the inevitable pain to come. The midwife, was sent for – as well as a German physician from Moscow. The midwife springs into action and preparations were made for the birth – such as furniture being arranged.

Marya prayed. An old Nurse, a household serf, was keeping Marya company. She light candles for the Saints. An unspoken anxiety kept everyone awake and alert.

It was determined that the Labor had begun. Tolstoy describes that “the most solemn mystery in the world continued its course.” Night came, which was a harsh March night with winter unleashing on of her last storms with desperate fury. No one slept. This was not an easy Labor.

Men were sent in the storm to try to meet the doctor who was expected. Marya sat silent, her luminous eyes fixed on her nurse’s wrinkled face. The Nurse tried to assure Mary: “God is merciful, doctors are never needed.”

Soon there was an arrival making his way to the provincial. It was thought to be the doctor. Marya dressed to meet him and started to go out. However, this was not the doctor. There was a familiar voice asking of the family while speaking to the House Steward. Marya recognized that it was none other than her brother! She felt it could not be! Yet there he was, in a fur cloak, covered with snow. Home! Andrei was pale, thin, with a changed and strangely softened but agitated expression. He came up the stairs and embraced his sister. He had sent a letter, but it never made it. Soon, the German doctor arrived…and got to his work.

This episode examines some likely influences in Tolstoy’s writing of the Duel between Pierre & Dolokhov.

Dueling is a romanticized part of aristocratic life that stemmed from Western Europe, where the precursor were the jousts and mêlées of medieval knights. With the later development of militaries, there were where occasions were tribunals & commanders could order disputing officers to fight it out in organized affairs.

In Moscow of the early 19th century, engaging in a duel was a mark of sovereignty among the nobility. Just like in Western Europe and America, the practice was carried out with secrecy, explaining why Pierre’s duel was held around 8 a.m in the outskirts of a forest.

Some of the Decembrists, who rebelled against the Czar in 1825 and were veterans of the Napoleonic Wars, built a reputation for dueling. The affairs themselves could be quite full of pageantry and tension. Only on the rare occasion would duels result in permanent injury or death. Alexander Pushkin, Russia’s national poet, was in 20+ duels yet never killed anyone. He ultimately lost his life in his final duel, in 1837, with George D’Anthès, over the French officer’s pursuit of Pushkin’s wife. Pushkin was shot in the stomach and died two days later. Like America’s Alexander Hamilton, great sympathy lied with the loser.

It also appears that one of Tolstoy’s uncles , Fyodor Tolstoy, contributed to the characterization of Pierre’s adversary, Fyodor Dolokhov. The uncle was this wild man and adventurer of the 19th century, who died in 1848. He was born to a so-called poorer branch of the family and made the most of the opportunities his military service presented. A Polish friend, Faddey Bulgarin, once said: “Count Tolstoy was reckless to the point of frenzy.”

Fyodor holds a reputation as a successful duelist. Though there is little proof of victims, there are reports Fyodor defeated over 10 adversaries, either wounding or killing them – or at least claiming credit for same. Leo Tolstoy relayed that when a close friend of his uncle was challenged, his uncle eagerly stepped up to take his friend's place. There are accounts that Fyodor came close to dueling the aforementioned Alexander Pushkin, after the writer accused Fyodor of cheating at cards. This matter was resolved amicably and the two became close friends.

Fyodor really lived against the grain for a nobleman. Notably, he was bailed out of a massive gambling debt by a gypsy singer. He felt indebted and married her. From his travels, he even acquired a number of tattoos, which were exotic for one of his status. He would display these designs (reportedly of a gaudy bird, snakes and various patterns) to ladies and men in awe. He held the nickname, The American or Amerikanets, which appears to be based on his tales of traveling to Alaska, ventures which have been questioned by scholars.

Part of early fun of W&P was Dolokhov leading his friends, including Pierre, in a night out in Petersburg, which led to tying a hapless police officer to a small bear and throwing them both into a River. The real Fyodor is reported to have done something similar. Fyodor let either a small bear or monkey loose in the Captain’s quarters of a military vessel. For that he was exiled at the next stop.

Tolstoy's uncle was also a notorious gambler, which further influenced the character of Dolokhov. The uncle would take any occasion to gain an angle or cheat and Leo Tolstoy knows his relative to have said something like: “only fools rely on luck.”

Leo Tolstoy likely crafted his famous duel involving Pierre, in part, through his own experience in with a fellow nobleman and writer. The only notable instance of any such Demand of Satisfaction is his well-known affair with Ivan Turganev, who was ten years Tolstoy's senior. The challenge came around May of 1861 when Tolstoy was working on W&P. His rage over what was a fairly silly dispute likely helped frame Pierre’s mindset.

The quarrel was over a comment about childrearing within a years-long relationship that often involved debate. Turgenev relayed how proud he was that his only daughter was doing a salt-of-the-earth chore, mending clothes that the peasants could use. Tolstoy labeled the act "theatrical." Turgenev was insulted and threatened to slap Tolstoy. The two then sent caustic letters to one another, which resulted in Tolstoy issuing a challenge to Duel with rifles. They didn’t speak for 17 years but reconciled after some friendly missives and would meet at each other’s estates until Turgenev died in 1883.