23 January, Position on the river Belbek1    I lived for more than a month in Eski-Orda, near Simferopol. It seemed dull, but now I look back on that life with regret. But then there’s good reason to regret the 14th brigade when you’re in the 11th. I’ve never seen a better brigade in the artillery than the former, or a worse one than the latter. Filimonov, in whose battery I am, is the dirtiest creature you could imagine. Odakhovsky, the senior officer, is a nasty mean little Pole, and the other officers are under their influence and lack a sense of direction. And I’m tied to, and even dependent on these people! I’ve been to Sevastopol, got some money, talked with Totleben, walked to the 4th bastion and played cards. I’m very dissatisfied with myself. I must go to the baths tomorrow. I must copy out my plan for the rifle battalions2 and write a memorandum.

28 January    Played shtoss for two days and nights. The result is understandable – the loss of everything – the Yasnaya Polyana house.3 I think there’s no point in writing – I’m so disgusted with myself that I’d like to forget about my existence. They say that Persia has declared war on Turkey and that peace is bound to be concluded.

3, 4, 5 February    I’ve been to Sevastopol. Showed my plan to Kashinsky. He seemed displeased. Didn’t manage to call on Krasnokutsky, who had called on me when I was out. The fleet4 has assembled; something is under way. There’s been action at Eupatoria5 – I asked to be sent there, but in vain.

6, 7, 8 February    Played cards again and lost another 200 roubles. I can’t promise to stop. I’d like to win everything back, but could get terribly embroiled. I want to win back the whole 2,000. It’s impossible, but nothing could be easier than to lose another 400, and then what? It’s terribly bad – not to mention the waste of health and time. Tomorrow I’ll ask Odakhovsky for another game and that will be the last time. Translated a ballad of Heine’s6 and read The Misfortune of Being Clever. I must write tomorrow without fail, and write a lot.

12 February    Lost seventy-five roubles again. God is still merciful to me in that there has been no unpleasantness, but what will happen later? My only hope is in Him! A bad business at Eupatoria – an attack repulsed, which is being called a reconnaissance. Time, time, youth, dreams, thoughts – everything is being lost without trace. I’m squandering my life, not living. My losses are forcing me to come to my senses a bit.

14 February    […] The thought of retirement or of the Military Academy occurs to me more and more often. I’ve written to Stolypin to try and get myself transferred to Kishinyov. From there I could arrange one of these two things.

1 March    Annenkov has been put in charge of the commissariat of both armies. Gorchakov has replaced Menshikov. Thank God! The Emperor died on 18 February and we’ve been taking the oath of allegiance to the new Emperor today. Great changes are in store for Russia. One must work hard and be brave to share in these important moments of Russia’s life.

2, 3, 4 March    These last few days I’ve twice worked for several hours at a time on my plan for reorganising the army.7 It’s making slow progress, but I’m not giving up the idea. I took communion today. Yesterday a conversation about divinity and faith inspired me with a great idea, a stupendous idea, to the realisation of which I feel capable of devoting my life. This idea is the founding of a new religion appropriate to the stage of development of mankind – the religion of Christ, but purged of beliefs and mysticism, a practical religion, not promising future bliss but giving bliss on earth. I realise that this idea can only be implemented by generations of people consciously working towards this end. One generation will bequeath the idea to the next, and some day reason or fanaticism will implement it. Consciously to work towards the union of mankind by religion is the basis of the idea which I hope will absorb me.

6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11 March    I’ve lost another 200 roubles to Odakhovsky, so that I’ve reached the ultimate extremes of embarrassment. Gorchakov has arrived with the whole Staff; I’ve been to see him and was well received, but there is no news of a transfer to the Staff, which I very much desire. I won’t ask, but I’ll wait for him to do it himself, or for my aunt to write a letter. Was weak enough to allow Stolypin to induce me to take part in a sortie,8 although I’m not only glad of it now, but regret not having gone with the assault column. In general this trip from the 9th to the 11th has been full of interesting events. Bronevsky is one of the nicest people I’ve ever met. A military career is not for me, and the sooner I get out of it to devote myself fully to a literary one the better.

12 March    Wrote about a sheet of Youth in the morning, then played knucklebones and chatted with Bronevsky. We have a plan to set up a boarding-house.9 He fully shares this good idea.

13 March    Got on with Youth and wrote a letter to Tatyana Alexandrovna. The plan for the boarding-house is taking shape. I’ve failed in so many things that in order to accomplish this one I’ll work steadily, diligently and with care.

18 March    I’ve re-read the pages of my diary in which I examine myself and look for ways or methods of improvement. To start with I adopted the most logical and scientific method, but the least practicable one – that of fathoming with the aid of one’s reason the best and most useful virtues and trying to attain them. Later on I understood that virtue is only the negation of vice, for man is good, and I wanted to cure myself of vices. But there were too many of them, and reform on a spiritual basis would be possible only for a spiritual being; but man has two natures, two wills. Then I realised that gradualness is necessary for reform. But that is impossible too. One needs with the aid of one’s reason to manufacture a situation in which improvement is possible, in which the will of the flesh and the will of the spirit most nearly accord; one needs certain methods of reform. And I accidentally hit upon one such method – I discovered a standard for determining in what situations goodness is easy or difficult. In general man aspires towards the spiritual life, and to attain spiritual aims one needs a situation in which the satisfaction of the desires of the flesh does not contradict, but rather accords with desires of the spirit – ambition, love of woman, love of nature, art, and poetry.

And so my new rule, in addition to the ones I set myself long ago, is to be energetic, judicious and modest: always to be energetic in pursuit of spiritual aims, to weigh up all my actions on the basis that those are good which aspire towards spiritual aims, and to be modest, so that the pleasure of being satisfied with myself should not turn into the pleasure of exciting praise or surprise in others. I often wished also to work systematically for my own material well-being, but this aim was too diversified, and besides I made the mistake of wishing to mould it independently of circumstances. With my present rule, however, I will work for the improvement of my well-being to the extent to which it will provide me with the means for a spiritual life, and I will only work in such a way as not to run counter to circumstances. My vocation, as far as I can understand from ten years’ experience, is not practical activity, and so estate management is least of all compatible with my bent. Today the idea occurred to me of renting out my property to my brother-in-law. In that way I should attain three aims: I should free myself from the cares of estate management and the habits of my youth, impose limits on myself, and free myself of my debts. Today I wrote about a sheet of Youth.

20 March    For two days I’ve written absolutely nothing except the rough draft of a letter to Valeryan and two letters to Nekrasov. One is an answer to a letter received from him today in which he asks me to send him some articles about the war. I’ll have to write them myself. I’ll describe Sevastopol in various phases, and write an idyll of the officers’ way of life.

21 March    I’ve done nothing. Received a delightful letter from Masha in which she describes how she made Turgenev’s acquaintance.10 A dear, wonderful letter elevating me in my own opinion and rousing me to action. But I’ve been morally and physically ill all day today. On the 24th we’re going to Sevastopol.

27 March    The first day of Easter. Went to Sevastopol the day before yesterday; the trip was somehow particularly pleasant and successful. In all my comrades from the South11 I observed real pleasure at seeing me again – even in the Bashi-bazouk12 and Kryzhanovsky. Most pleasant of all for me was to read the reviews in the journals, very flattering reviews, of Notes of a Billiard-Marker.13 It’s gratifying and useful because, by inflaming my vanity, it rouses me to activity. Unfortunately I don’t yet see any sign of the latter – for five days or so I haven’t written a line of Youth, although I’ve started writing Sevastopol by Day and Night,14 and I haven’t yet got down to answering the nice letters – two from Nekrasov, and one each from Valeryan, Masha, Nikolenka and Auntie. I’ve been offered through Neverezhky the post of senior adjutant, and after some hard thinking have accepted it – I don’t know what will come of it.15 Turgenev says quite rightly that we writers need to occupy ourselves with some one thing, and I’ll be better able to occupy myself with literature in that position than in any other. I’ll suppress my vanity – my desire for promotion and crosses – very foolish vanity, especially for a man who has already found his career. I did nothing today and probably for that reason am in a strange, cold and bad-tempered frame of mind. We’re going to Sevastopol not on the 24th, but on the 1st of April.

2 April    Yesterday the battery arrived. I’m living in Sevastopol. Our losses already amount to five thousand, but we’re holding out not merely well, but in such a way that our defence must clearly prove to the enemy the impossibility of ever taking Sevastopol. Wrote two pages of Sevastopol in the evening.

3, 4, 5, 6, 7 April, morning    All these days I’ve been so occupied with what has been happening and partly with my duties that I haven’t had time yet to write anything except for one incoherent page of Youth. Since the 4th the bombardment has eased up, but it still continues. The day before yesterday I spent the night in the 4th bastion.16 From time to time a ship fires on the town. Yesterday a shell fell near a boy and a girl who were playing horses in the street: they put their arms round each other and fell down together. The girl is the daughter of a sailor’s wife. Every day she has been coming to my quarters under a hail of shells and bombs. My cold is so terrible that I can’t settle down to anything.

11 April, 4th Bastion    I’ve written very, very little of Youth or Sevastopol in recent days; my cold and feverish condition were the reason for this. Moreover, I’m irritated – especially now when I’m ill – by the fact that it doesn’t occur to anybody that I’m good for anything except chair à canon, [cannon fodder], and the most useless kind at that. I want to fall in love again with a nurse I saw at the dressing station.

12 April, 4th Bastion    Got on with Sevastopol by Day and Night and, I think, it’s not bad, and I hope to finish it tomorrow. What a wonderful spirit there is among the sailors! How much superior they are to our soldiers! My lads are a nice lot too, and I enjoy being with them. Yesterday there was another explosion at the 5th battalion: the firing seems to have increased on our side and to have decreased on theirs.

13 April    Still at the same 4th bastion, which I’m beginning to like very much. I’m writing quite a lot. Finished Sevastopol by Day and Night today, and wrote a bit of Youth. The constant charm of danger and my observations of the soldiers I’m living with, the sailors and the very methods of war are so pleasant that I don’t want to leave here, especially as I would like to be present at the assault, if there is one.

14 April    Still at the same 4th bastion, where I feel splendid. Finished a chapter of Youth yesterday, and it’s not at all bad. Generally speaking my work on Youth will lure me on now by the attraction of work begun and nearly half finished. Today I want to write the chapter ‘The Haymaking’, begin revising Sevastopol and begin the soldier’s story of how he was hit.17 O God, I thank Thee for Thy constant protection! How surely Thou leadest me to what is good. And what a worthless creature I would be if Thou were to abandon me. Abandon me not, O God! Help me on my way, not for the satisfaction of my worthless aims, but for the attainment of the great, eternal aim of existence, unknown to me but of which I am aware.

21 April    Seven days in which I’ve done absolutely nothing except for two rewritten sheets of Sevastopol and a proposed address.18 The day before yesterday we were driven out of the lodgements opposite the 5th bastion, and driven out shamefully. Morale gets lower every day, and the thought of the possibility of the capture of Sevastopol is beginning to become apparent in many ways.

19 May, Position on the river Belbek    On 15 May I was appointed commander of a mountain platoon and moved to a camp on the Belbek, twenty versts from Sevastopol. There’s a lot to do; I want to attend to the commissariat myself and I see how easy it is to steal – so easy that it’s impossible not to steal. I have many plans with regard to this thieving, but I don’t know what will come of them. The countryside is delightful, but it’s hot. I’ve done nothing all this time.

31 May    On the 26th Selenginsky, Volynsky and Kamchatsky redoubts were captured. I was in Sevastopol the next day and I’m convinced that it won’t fall. My command causes me a good deal of trouble, especially the financial accounts. I’m definitely not capable of practical activity; or if I am capable, then it’s only with a great effort, which it isn’t worth making since my career is not to be a practical one. […]

31 May    11 p.m. Finished reading Faust in the morning. […]

2 June    Got up late. Succumbed to the effect of the sores, and did nothing except for reading Henri Esmond.19 Went to see the doctor, who tried to reassure me, but didn’t succeed.

8, 9 June    Laziness, laziness. Health bad. Reading Vanity Fair all day. […]

11 June    Worked easily in the morning and with great pleasure, but started late and didn’t resume in the evening. Apart from that, I twice showed lack of character over the cauterising with lapis, and also in eating cherries. That makes three.

It’s absurd that having started writing rules at fifteen I should still be doing so at thirty, without having trusted in, or followed a single one, but still for some reason believing in them and wanting them. Rules should be moral and practical. Here are practical ones, without which there can be no happiness: moderation and acquisition. Money.

12, 13, 14, 15 June    Spent two days drilling, went to Bakhchisaray yesterday and received a letter and my article20 from Panayev. I was flattered that it has been read to the Emperor. My service in Russia is beginning to infuriate me, as it did in the Caucasus. Laziness. Vanity, telling Stolypin about my article, and irritability, hitting men at drill. My health gets worse and worse and I think salivation is starting. It’s amazing how loathsome I am, how altogether unhappy and repulsive to myself.

18 June    Finished Notes of a Cadet,21 wrote a letter and sent it off. After dinner I lazed about and read Pendennis.22 […]

24 June    I’m making it a rule when writing to draw up a programme, make a rough draft and a fair copy, but not give a final polish to each section. If you read a thing too often, you make incorrect and unfavourable judgements, the charm and interest of novelty and surprise disappear, and you often strike out what is good and only seems bad from frequent repetition. But the main thing is that with this method you retain enthusiasm for the work. Worked the whole day and can’t reproach myself with anything. Hurrah!

26 June    Finished A Spring Night;23 it doesn’t seem as good now as it did before. Can’t reproach myself with anything.

27 June, Bakhchisaray    Went to Bakhchisaray and read A Spring Night to Kovalevsky, who was very pleased with it. My pride was flattered and I was angry with Kryzhanovsky when I learned from Kovalevsky that I had been invited long ago to take part in the Brussels journal.24 […]

30 June, Position on the river Belbek. 28 June. Use of the day.    Left Bakhchisaray early in the morning, reached my lodgings, had something to eat, gave some orders, wrote a bit of the Diary and set off for Sevastopol. At Inkerman I gave some money to Yelchaninov, visited the Staff officers who are becoming more and more repulsive to me and finally reached Sevastopol. My first encounter was with a shell which burst between the Nikolayevskaya battery and the Grafskyaya pier (next day bullets were found near the library). The second was the news that Nakhimov is mortally wounded. Bronevsky, Meshchersky and Kaloshin are all nice and are fond of me. On the way back next day, 29 June, – the morning of which I spent partly in the officers’ battery and partly with Meshchersky – I came across Baron Ferzen at Inkerman and was awfully glad. I really am, I think, beginning to acquire a reputation in Petersburg. The Emperor has ordered Sevastopol in December to be translated into French. […]

5 July    I’m beginning to be very lazy. The time has only now come when my vanity is being truly tested. I could get on well in life if I were willing to write without following my convictions.

Facts: Soldiers on horseback are awfully fond of singing. Laziness, laziness, laziness.

6 July    I hope that today is the last day of the idleness in which I’ve spent the whole week. All today I’ve been reading a stupid novel by Balzac25 and have only just taken up my pen. Thoughts: Write the diary of an officer in Sevastopol26 – various aspects, phases and moments of military life – and publish it in some newspaper. I’m thinking of settling on this idea; although my chief occupation must be Youth and Early Manhood, the other would be for money, practice in style, and variety. Reproaches: (1) Laziness (2) Irritability.

8 July    Health very bad, and I can’t work. I’ve done absolutely nothing. I need to accumulate money (1) to pay my debts, (2) to redeem my estate and have the opportunity to free my peasants. I’ll copy out rules for play, but only as a means of cutting my losses when I have to play, not of winning. As for the surplus left over from my command of the unit, I’ll certainly take it and not tell anyone about it. If I’m asked, I’ll say that I took it; I know that it’s honest. […]

12 July    Wrote nothing all day, read Balzac and have been solely occupied with the new chest.27 I’ve decided that I’ll keep no government money at all. I’m even surprised how the idea could have occurred to me of even taking what was completely surplus. […]

17 July    Health worse. Did nothing. Three rules: (1) Be what I am: (a) a writer by aptitude, (b) an aristocrat by birth. (2) Never speak ill of anyone, and (3) Be economical with money.

19, 20 July    Received a letter from Panayev today. They are pleased with Notes of a Cadet and will print it in the 8th number. […]

2 August    In conversation with Stolypin today about serfdom in Russia, the idea occurred to me more clearly than ever before of writing my four stages in the history of a Russian landowner,28 with myself as the hero in Khabarovka. The main idea of the novel should be the impossibility of an educated landowner in our times living a just life while serfdom exists. All its miseries should be exposed, and the means of remedying them indicated.

7 August, Position on the river Belbek    I’ve been to Inkerman and Sevastopol. Won 100 roubles from Odakhovsky and am quits with everyone in the Crimea. Sold Mashtak.29 Was in good spirits. Decided from today to live only on my pay. I’ll play with the money I get from home, and if I lose, then nec plus ultra [at the very most] 960 roubles. All that is owed to me and all I receive will be added to the capital I’m accumulating, also what is left from the unit, also everything I win. So far there is only 200 from Rosen. I’ve behaved well.

25 August    I’ve just been looking at the sky. A wonderful night. O God, have mercy upon me. I am a bad man. Grant that I may be good and happy. Lord have mercy. The stars are in the sky. A bombardment in Sevastopol, music in the camp. I’ve done no good; on the contrary I won some money from Korsakov. I’ve been to Simferopol.

2 September    Haven’t written my diary for a week. Lost a clean 1500 roubles. Sevastopol has surrendered; I was there on my birthday. Worked well today putting my description together.30 I owe Rosen 300 roubles and lied to him.

17 September    Received news yesterday that A Night has been mutilated and published.31 It seems that the Blues32 have got their eyes on me. It’s because of my articles. But I wish Russia could always have such moral writers. I can’t be a sickly-sweet one, though, and I can’t write empty nothings, without ideas and above all without any aim. Despite a first moment of anger when I vowed never again to take up a pen, literature must be my chief and only occupation, taking precedence over all other inclinations and occupations. My aim is literary fame. And the good I can do by my works. Tomorrow I’ll go to Karalez33 and ask for my discharge, and in the morning I’ll get on with Youth. […]

19 September, Kermenchik34 I’ve moved to Kermenchik; I’m staying with a secret agent a spy. Very interesting. As for women, there seems to be no hope. Wrote a little of Sevastopol in August. Did no good to anyone, and no evil. I need at all costs to win fame. I want to publish Youth myself. I’ll go to the south coast, get some money and apply to return home.

20 September    Lots of pretty girls, and sensuality is tormenting me. […]

21 September    I’ll come to grief if I don’t reform. Given my character, education, circumstances and abilities, there is no middle course for me – either a brilliant or a wretched future. All my strength of character must go into reform. My chief vices: (1) lack of character – non-fulfilment of plans. Means of reform: (1) to know my general aim, and (2) to think about and note down my future activities and carry them out even if they are bad. My aims: (1) the good of my neighbour and (2) organising myself in such a way as to be able to do this. At the present moment the second is more important than the first, so I must remember all the plans I’ve made, even if they are contrary to the first general aim. I must prescribe certain actions in advance, at first as few and as easy as possible, and above all ones that don’t contradict each other.

My chief aim in life is the good of my neighbour, and its conditional aims – literary fame, based on usefulness and the good of my neighbour; wealth, based on work useful to my neighbour, capital turnover and play, and all devoted towards goodness; and fame in the service, based on usefulness to the country. I’ll analyse in my diary what I’ve done each day to achieve these four aims, and how often I’ve failed to accomplish what I planned.

Tomorrow, for the first aim, I’ll write letters to my aunts and my brother Dmitry, and inquire about the men’s food, health and accommodation; for the second I’ll draft the plan of an article and write it (or else Youth) or as well as Youth; for the third I’ll do the accounts and write to my headman, and for the fourth I’ll study the locality.

23 September    Wrote a letter to Aunt Pelageya Ilinichna, gave advice and promised the Greeks help,35 which I’ll give. For the second aim I drafted the plan of Sevastopol in August; for the third, wrote to my headman; for the fourth, rode to our station. Didn’t write Youth, didn’t bother about the men and didn’t do the accounts. […]

1 October, Foti-Sala36    These last three days I’ve been constantly busy and on the move; yesterday I even fired two rounds of grape shot. Haven’t washed or undressed, and have behaved in a disorganised way. Completely forgot my aims. […]

10 October    I’ve been in a lazily apathetic, perpetually dissatisfied state for a long time now. Won another 130 roubles at cards. Bought a horse and bridle for 150. What nonsense! My career is literature – to write and write! From tomorrow I’ll work all my life or throw up everything – rules, religion, propriety – everything.

21 November    I’m in Petersburg, at Turgenev’s.37 Lost 2800 before leaving, and only just managed to transfer 600 to my debtors. Picked up 875 roubles in the country. It’s most important for me to behave myself well here. For that the main thing I need is: (1) to deal cautiously but boldly with people who can harm me, (2) to manage my expenses carefully and (3) to work. Tomorrow I’ll get on with Youth and write a bit of the diary.38

Notes

1 A position some six or seven miles from Sevastopol.

2 The plan has not survived.

3 The big house at Yasnaya Polyana in which Tolstoy was born, and which had to be sold, transferred and rebuilt elsewhere to pay Tolstoy’s gambling losses at shtoss (an old-fashioned card game).

4 The enemy fleet.

5 Prince Menshikov’s plan to take Eupatoria by storm, which was a failure.

6 It is not known which one.

7 Some draft notes have survived about the shortcomings of the Russian officers and men and the loss of morale in the Russian army.

8 An attack on the French positions near Sevastopol on the night of 10–11 March – the highlight of the ‘trip’ referred to in the next sentence.

9 Nothing came of this.

10 In October 1854. Turgenev found her very nice, attractive and intelligent.

11 Men who served with him in the Danube Army.

12 A. O. Serzhputovsky. The nickname was popularly used of HQ staff officers.

13 Especially the review by Dudyshkin in Notes of the Fatherland, No. 2, 1855.

14 The future stories Sevastopol in December and Sevastopol in May.

15 Nothing came of it, since his rank was not sufficiently senior for the appointment.

16 His first night in one of the more exposed positions in Sevastopol, where he was to remain until 15 May.

17 The incident comes in Sevastopol in December, not in a separate story.

18 A memorandum Tolstoy wrote to the Commander-in-Chief apropos of an officer’s proposed patriotic address to the defenders of Sevastopol.

19 Tolstoy’s spelling of Thackeray’s novel might suggest that he was reading it in French – although his spelling of foreign names was notoriously unreliable and he refers to it later in English as Esmond’s life. Vanity Fair in the next entry is given its English title and not translated into Russian.

20 The June issue of The Contemporary, containing Tolstoy’s story Sevastopol in December. Tolstoy frequently referred to his stories as ‘articles’.

21 The Wood-felling.

22 Here the title of Thackeray’s novel is given in Russian, and in abbreviated form.

23 Sevastopol in May.

24 The semi-official Russian journal Le Nord published in French. Tolstoy only heard indirectly, and not from his immediate superior, that he had been invited to participate.

25 Le lys dans la vallée.

26 A fragment of what may have been the start of this abandoned project has survived (An Extract from the Diary of Staff-Captain A. of the L. L. Infantry Regiment).

27 It is not clear whether this refers to the unit’s money chest, or to a new type of ammunition chest which was being designed.

28 The Novel of a Russian Landowner.

29 A horse.

30 A report for his superior officer on the final bombardment of Sevastopol.

31 Sevastopol in May.

32 The gendarmes.

33 The place on the river Belbek where the left flank of the Russian army was temporarily stationed.

34 A village near Bakhchisaray.

35 ‘Nicholas I’s legion’ consisting of local Greek volunteers, to whom Tolstoy promised artillery support.

36 A village near Bakhchisaray.

37 Tolstoy arrived in Petersburg on 21 November. He had been sent as a military courier with a report on the artillery action at Sevastopol and stayed with Turgenev, who had become acquainted with his sister and brother and to whom he had dedicated his story The Wood-felling. A plaque now marks the house on the Fontanka near the Anichkov bridge where Tolstoy shared Turgenev’s apartment.

38 Perhaps the diary referred to in Note 26.