After Count Rastopchin receives a letter from Kutuzov formally confirming the abandonment of Moscow, he is forced to face the reality of his situation. All this time he has been living in his own fantasy world, his own version of history upon which he would leave a lasting mark. He would mold the patriotic sentiment of the people into a well-armed militia prepared to defend Moscow until the end. Unfortunately for him, history (according to Tolstoy) had other plans. In his blistering criticism of the count, Tolstoy remarks that Rastopchin’s psyche has become entwined with an artificial role of his own imagination, but is now forced to confront this. And in a fit of hatred for his new found powerlessness, Rastopchin orders Vereshchagin, the supposed traitor, be brought to him.
What follows is a scene reminiscent of the murder of Simon in Lord of the Flies. Rastopchin uses Vereshchagin as a scapegoat, claiming he is the sole reason why the French are taking over Moscow. In an attempt to harness the latent patriotism in the people and prove to himself his role isn’t entirely meaningless, the count orders the crowd to take the prisoner’s life. They are hesitant at first and begin to lurch forward, but stop themselves. (In retrospect, it seems they were not originally inclined to rise up and kill this traitor, just as the Russian people were not inclined to revolt at the news of the abandonment of Moscow, but the actions Rastopchin takes to force his vision upon the world further demonstrate his inadequacy as a leader and his lack of connection with the people.) Finally, after Vereshchagin howls in pain from being nailed in the head with a saber, the crowd leaps into action. It is this cry that dissolves the “barrier of human feeling” that triggers a primal instinct in the crowd. (In trying to harness the patriotic sentiments of the people, Rastopchin only succeeds in bringing out the worst of the crowd, another shot by Tolstoy at his shoddy leadership skills.) They swarm forward and immediately overtake Vereshchagin, beating him from all sides. In a frenzied state, the people feel that what was started, must be finished. And so ended the life of Vereshchagin in a brutal ecstasy of pain.
Just as Rastopchin channels his self-hatred into the crowd and ultimately the murder of Vereshchagin, Jack in Lord of the Flies channels the boys’ fear of the imagined monster into the murder of Simon. It is the same kind of instinctual behavior in action here. The boys, engaged in a ritual chant to ward off the storm, are absorbed in an act that is fundamentally primal. They circle up and move to the rhythm of the chant, shouting “Kill the best! Cut his throat! Spill his blood!” One of the boys, Roger, even plays the part of a pig in a reenactment of a hunt. In chanting, they become a singular, bloodthirsty mass and as Simon stumbles out of the foliage, he is swallowed up like Vereshchagin in the mob. He plays the same role of scapegoat, for they all believe him to be the beast that resides on top of the mountain. Under Jack’s leadership, the band of boys unleash a latent primal force just like the crowd under Rastopchin’s leadership.
Lord of the Flies comparison aside, this entire scene continues Tolstoy’s roast of Rastopchin. He is the epitome of everything a leader should not be according to Tolstoy: self-involved, reactionary, and clueless as to the inevitability of history.
Reading War & Peace 
With a book like War and Peace, connections are not so easy to come by due to the historical and somewhat fantastical nature of the novel. The connection to Lord of the Flies you have made is brilliant and very relevant to the text. Although I have never read Lord of the Flies, I have heard about the scene you described. I think it’s very interesting that this literary connection spans quite a bit of time. Nice post!
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