And the The Welcome to Russian History Retold. Episode 161, Leo Tolstoy, Manhood, Part 2. Last episode, we recounted the early part of Tolstoy's literary career

with the publication of childhood through his stationing in the Crimea.

Today, we start with the Siege of Sevastopol. But before we go any further,

today's upload of this podcast marks the fifth anniversary of the beginning of.

Russian rulers history podcast which I first

recorded and uploaded on April 30th 2010. Here's hoping for another five years

can't guarantee it, but I really enjoy it and I love the feedback I'm getting from all of you listeners.

So thank you very much for listening and all the great comments I've gotten and everything else associated with this

podcast. It's been a real pleasure doing it and hope to continue going on. On with

the podcast. Leo had just left Kishinev heading to Sevastopol to help with the siege.

The Russians had just lost the battles of Alma and Incerman taking heavy casualties.

What Tolstoy was to find out was the men were dying not because they were brave, and they were,

but because of incompetence both by the officers and the equipment the men had.

While the French and the British had rifles, his side had outdated muskets.

Russian artillery, though, was as good as any in the world but the fighting men were

outclassed and outgunned. Tolstoy was lucky to have been an artillery men and

not in the infantry otherwise we might never have seen his greatness.

While in Sevastopol, Tolstoy was writing two books, Youth, the follow-up to Childhood and Boyhood, and Savastopol's sketches, his account of the Siege.

On top of it, his memoirs of a billiard-maker, or billiard-marker, came out in the contemporary. Critics were beside themselves. The works were brilliant.

He of course was thrilled. As he wrote in his diary, quote, what gave me most pleasure was to read the critics' notices. They speak of the

memoirs of a billiard marker and very flattering terms. This sensation is both pleasant and useful, for by feeding my pride it drives me to action.

Alas, for the last five days I've not written a single word of youth, although I did begin Sevastopol by day and night.

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