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The elder Bolkonsky became grim and withdrawn and revealed what he learned to his daughter.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 Almightyand 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 routinebut 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.
