War and peace 3 volume short. Description of the third part of the third volume of the novel by L. N. Tolstoy "War and Peace" chapter by chapter. The manager of the Bolkonsky Alpatych estate is going to Smolensk. Giving orders from the old prince to the manager takes more than two hours

In June 1812 the war begins, Napoleon becomes the head of the army. Emperor Alexander, having learned that the enemy had crossed the border, he sent Adjutant General Balashev to Napoleon. Balashev spends four days with the French, who do not recognize him as important, which he had at the Russian court, and finally Napoleon receives him in the very palace from which the Russian emperor sent him. Napoleon listens only to himself, not noticing that he often falls into contradictions.

Prince Andrey wants to find Anatole Kuragin and challenge him to a duel; for this he goes to St. Petersburg, and then to the Turkish army, where he serves at the headquarters of Kutuzov. When Bolkonsky learns about the beginning of the war with Napoleon, he asks for a transfer to the Western Army; Kutuzov gives him an assignment to Barclay de Tolly and releases him. On the way, Prince Andrei calls in the Bald Mountains, where outwardly everything is the same, but the old prince is very annoyed with Princess Mary and noticeably brings m-lle Bourienne closer to him. A difficult conversation takes place between the old prince and Andrey, Prince Andrey leaves.

In the Drissa camp, where the main apartment of the Russian army was located, Bolkonsky finds many opposing parties; at the military council, he finally understands that there is no military science, and everything is decided "in the ranks." He asks the sovereign for permission to serve in the army, and not at court.

Pavlograd regiment, which still serves Nikolai Rostov, already a captain, retreats from Poland to the Russian borders; none of the hussars think about where and why they are going. On July 12, one of the officers tells in the presence of Rostov about the feat of Raevsky, who brought two sons to the Saltanovskaya dam and went on the attack next to them; This story raises doubts in Rostov: he does not believe the story and does not see the point in such an act, if it really happened. The next day, at the town of Ostrovne, the Rostov squadron hit the French dragoons, who were pushing the Russian lancers. Nikolai captured a French officer "with a room face" - for this he received the St. George Cross, but he himself could not understand what confuses him in this so-called feat.

Rostov live in Moscow, Natasha is very ill, doctors visit her; at the end of Peter's Lent, Natasha decides to go to fast. On Sunday, July 12, the Rostovs went to mass at the Razumovskys' home church. Natasha is very impressed by the prayer (“Let us pray to the Lord in peace”). She gradually returns to life and even begins to sing again, which she has not done for a long time. Pierre brings the sovereign's appeal to the Muscovites to the Rostovs, everyone is touched, and Petya asks to be allowed to go to war. Having not received permission, Petya decides the next day to go to meet the sovereign, who is coming to Moscow, in order to express to him his desire to serve the fatherland.

In the crowd of Muscovites meeting the tsar, Petya was nearly crushed. Together with others, he stood in front of the Kremlin Palace, when the sovereign went out onto the balcony and began to throw biscuits to the people - Petya got one biscuit. Returning home, Petya resolutely announced that he would certainly go to war, and the next day the old count went to find out how to attach Petya somewhere safer. On the third day of his stay in Moscow, the tsar met with the nobility and merchants. Everyone was in awe. The nobility donated the militia, and the merchants donated money.

The old Prince Bolkonsky is weakening; despite the fact that Prince Andrei informed his father in a letter that the French were already at Vitebsk and that his family's stay in the Bald Mountains was unsafe, the old prince laid a new garden and a new building on his estate. Prince Nikolai Andreevich sends the manager Alpatych to Smolensk with instructions, he, having arrived in the city, stops at the inn, at the familiar owner - Ferapontov. Alpatych gives the governor a letter from the prince and hears advice to go to Moscow. The bombardment begins, and then the fire of Smolensk. Ferapontov, who previously did not want to even hear about the departure, suddenly begins to distribute bags of food to the soldiers: “Bring everything, guys! […] Decided! Race!" Alpatych meets Prince Andrei, and he writes a note to his sister, offering to urgently leave for Moscow.

For Prince Andrei, the fire of Smolensk "was an epoch" - a feeling of anger against the enemy made him forget his grief. He was called in the regiment "our prince", they loved him and were proud of him, and he was kind and meek "with his regimental officers." His father, having sent his family to Moscow, decided to stay in the Bald Mountains and defend them "to the last extremity"; Princess Mary does not agree to leave with her nephews and stays with her father. After the departure of Nikolushka, the old prince has a stroke, and he is transported to Bogucharovo. For three weeks, the paralyzed prince lies in Bogucharovo, and finally he dies, asking for forgiveness from his daughter before his death.

Princess Mary, after her father's funeral, is going to leave Bogucharovo for Moscow, but the Bogucharovo peasants do not want to let the princess go. By chance, Rostov turns up in Bogucharovo, easily pacified the peasants, and the princess can leave. Both she and Nikolai think about the will of providence that arranged their meeting.

When Kutuzov appointed commander in chief, he calls Prince Andrei to him; he arrives in Tsarevo-Zaimishche, at the main apartment. Kutuzov listens with sympathy to the news of the death of the old prince and invites Prince Andrei to serve at the headquarters, but Bolkonsky asks for permission to remain in the regiment. Denisov, who also arrived at the main apartment, hurries to present Kutuzov's plan guerrilla war, but Kutuzov listens to Denisov (as well as the report of the general on duty) obviously inattentively, as if “by his experience of life”, despising everything that was said to him. And Prince Andrei leaves Kutuzov completely reassured. “He understands,” Bolkonsky thinks about Kutuzov, “that there is something stronger and more significant than his will, this is the inevitable course of events, and he knows how to see them, knows how to understand their meaning […] And the main thing is that he is Russian ".

This is what he says before the battle of Borodino to Pierre, who came to see the battle. “While Russia was healthy, a stranger could serve it and there was a wonderful minister, but as soon as it is in danger, you need your own, dear person,” Bolkonsky explains the appointment of Kutuzov as commander-in-chief instead of Barclay. During the battle, Prince Andrei was mortally wounded; they bring him to the tent to the dressing station, where he sees Anatol Kuragin on the next table - his leg is being amputated. Bolkonsky is seized with a new feeling - a feeling of compassion and love for everyone, including his enemies.

The appearance of Pierre on the Borodino field is preceded by a description of the Moscow society, where they refused to speak French (and even take a fine for a French word or phrase), where Rostopchinsky posters are distributed, with their pseudo-folk rude tone. Pierre feels a special joyful "sacrificial" feeling: "everything is nonsense in comparison with something," which Pierre could not understand to himself. On the way to Borodino, he meets militiamen and wounded soldiers, one of whom says: "They want to pile on all the people." On the field of Borodin, Bezukhov sees a prayer service before the miraculous icon of Smolensk, meets some of his acquaintances, including Dolokhov, who asks for forgiveness from Pierre.

During the battle, Bezukhov ended up on Raevsky's battery. The soldiers soon get used to him, call him "our master"; when the charges run out, Pierre volunteers to bring new ones, but before he could reach the charging boxes, there was a deafening explosion. Pierre runs to the battery, where the French are already in charge; the French officer and Pierre simultaneously grab each other, but the flying cannonball makes them unclench their hands, and the Russian soldiers who run up drive the French away. Pierre is horrified by the sight of the dead and wounded; he leaves the battlefield and walks three miles along the Mozhaisk road. He sits on the side of the road; after a while, three soldiers make a fire nearby and call Pierre to supper. After dinner, they go together to Mozhaisk, on the way they meet the bereator Pierre, who takes Bezukhov to the inn. At night, Pierre has a dream in which a benefactor (as he calls Bazdeev) speaks to him; the voice says that one must be able to unite in one's soul "the meaning of everything." “No,” Pierre hears in a dream, “not to connect, but to match.” Pierre returns to Moscow.

Two more characters are given in close-up during the Battle of Borodino: Napoleon and Kutuzov. On the eve of the battle, Napoleon receives a gift from the Empress from Paris - a portrait of his son; he orders the portrait to be taken out to show it to the old guard. Tolstoy claims that Napoleon's orders before the battle of Borodino were no worse than all his other orders, but nothing depended on the will of the French emperor. Near Borodino, the French army suffered a moral defeat - this, according to Tolstoy, is the most important result of the battle.

Kutuzov did not make any orders during the battle: he knew that "an elusive force called the spirit of the army" decides the outcome of the battle, and he led this force "as far as it was in his power." When the adjutant Wolzogen arrives at the commander-in-chief with news from Barclay that the left flank is upset and the troops are fleeing, Kutuzov violently attacks him, claiming that the enemy has been beaten off everywhere and that tomorrow there will be an offensive. And this mood of Kutuzov is transmitted to the soldiers.

After the battle of Borodino, Russian troops retreat to Fili; the main issue that the military leaders are discussing is the question of protecting Moscow. Kutuzov, realizing that there is no way to defend Moscow, gives the order to retreat. At the same time, Rostopchin, not understanding the meaning of what is happening, ascribes to himself the leading role in the abandonment and fire of Moscow, that is, in an event that could not have happened by the will of one person and could not have happened in the circumstances of that time. He advises Pierre to leave Moscow, reminding him of his connection with the Masons, gives the crowd to be torn apart by the merchant's son Vereshchagin and leaves Moscow. The French enter Moscow. Napoleon is standing on Poklonnaya Hill, waiting for the deputation of the boyars and playing generous scenes in his imagination; he is told that Moscow is empty.

On the eve of leaving Moscow, the Rostovs were getting ready to leave. When the carts were already laid, one of the wounded officers (the day before several wounded were taken into the house by the Rostovs) asked permission to go further with the Rostovs in their cart. The countess at first objected - after all, the last fortune was lost - but Natasha convinced her parents to give all the carts to the wounded, and leave most of the things. Among the wounded officers who traveled with the Rostovs from Moscow was Andrei Bolkonsky. In Mytishchi, during another stop, Natasha entered the room where Prince Andrei was lying. Since then, she has looked after him on all holidays and overnight stays.

Pierre did not leave Moscow, but left his home and began to live in the house of Bazdeev's widow. even before the trip to Borodino, he learned from one of the Masonic brothers that the Apocalypse predicted the invasion of Napoleon; he began to calculate the meaning of the name of Napoleon ("the beast" from the Apocalypse), and this number was equal to 666; the same amount was obtained from the numerical value of his name. So Pierre discovered his destiny - to kill Napoleon. He remains in Moscow and prepares for a great feat. When the French enter Moscow, officer Rambal comes to Bazdeev's house with his batman. The insane brother of Bazdeev, who lived in the same house, shoots at Rambal, but Pierre snatches the pistol from him. During dinner, Rambal frankly tells Pierre about himself, about his love affairs; Pierre tells the Frenchman the story of his love for Natasha. The next morning he goes to the city, no longer believing his intention to kill Napoleon, saves the girl, stands up for the Armenian family, which is robbed by the French; he is arrested by a detachment of French lancers.

“The movement of mankind, arising from the innumerable number of human arbitrariness, takes place continuously. Comprehension of the laws of this movement is the goal of history. But in order to comprehend the laws of the continuous movement of the sum of all the arbitrariness of people, the human mind admits arbitrary, discontinuous units. One takes a continuous series of events and considers it separately from the other. Or they consider the action of one person, a king, a commander, as the sum of the actions of people, although in fact this sum is never expressed in the activity of one historical person. However, all the conclusions of history are groundless. In retreat, the Russian army moves away from Borodino for one hundred and twenty miles, beyond Moscow. Napoleon's army reaches Moscow and stops there. There was no movement for the next five weeks. Kutuzov and the entire Russian army already believed that the battle of Borodino was won by them.

Kutuzov wrote to the sovereign about the victory. But when he ordered his army to prepare for a new battle, news of unheard-of losses began to come incessantly.

In such circumstances, it was impossible to start a new battle. The whole army was waiting for the attack, Kutuzov was supported, but at the same time they understood that the battle would certainly be lost.

All the highest military nobility gathered at the Filey. Generals and other commanders spoke about the new battle. From these conversations, Kutuzov understood that there was no physical possibility to defend Moscow.

“... To such an extent it was not possible that if some insane commander in chief gave the order to give battle, there would be confusion and there would still be no battle.”

Meanwhile, some generals insisted on fighting, trying to emphasize their Russian patriotism. In case of failure, if they failed to defend Moscow, they hoped to shift their blame to Kutuzov.

Kutuzov is in deep thought. He reproaches himself for allowing Napoleon to Moscow, trying to understand his miscalculations and find a way out of the current situation. “Moscow must be abandoned. The troops must retreat, and this order must be given. He stops the conversations of the generals and goes to the peasant's hut, in which a military council is soon to be held.

At the council, the participants argue and again express their conflicting opinions. Then Kutuzov takes the floor. "By the power vested in me by my sovereign and fatherland, I order a retreat," he says.

It was a sad but inevitable event. Moscow was abandoned and burned. The same thing happened in all the cities and villages of the Russian land, starting from Smolensk. The people expected the enemy. There were no popular uprisings, no unrest of any kind, only calmness and consciousness of a unifying goal.

As soon as the enemy approached, the rich inhabitants left the area, while the poor remained and destroyed everything that remained with the help of fire. Residents left Moscow. The question of whether it would be good or bad under the control of the French did not even arise. No one wanted to be under the command of the French.

Helen has two admirers - a young foreign prince and a St. Petersburg nobleman, who holds one of the highest positions in the state. Helen successfully develops warm relations with both of them: she converts to Catholicism in order to marry the prince and demands marriage from the Russian nobleman.

In St. Petersburg society, Helen and her fate are discussed, but they are not condemned for the fact that she seeks to marry with her husband alive. Only Marya Dmitrievna Akhrosimova allowed herself criticism; at the ball she openly and sharply demonstrated her contempt for Helen.

In early August, Helen finally made up her mind. She writes a letter to Pierre Bezukhov, in which she announces her intention to marry and that she has entered into the one true religion. Helen asks for a divorce and compliance with all necessary formalities.

A letter from his wife is given to Pierre when he was on the Borodino field. The battle is over, and Bezukhov, in a vague mind, wanders senselessly through the battlefield, imagining in his dreams how he will return to ordinary life, lie down and try to understand everything that he saw and experienced. He falls asleep right on the side of the road.

At night, he is awakened by soldiers who have settled down to eat, feed Pierre and bring him to Mozhaisk. There, Pierre has a dream full of gunshots, groans, the smell of blood and gunpowder. Waking up with a feeling of horror and fear of death, he realizes that everything is quiet around him.

Pierre remembers the soldiers. Their will, firmness and calmness in combat conditions, with all the horror that was happening around, delight him. He would like to be like them.

In the morning, Pierre was informed that the French had advanced near Mozhaisk. The Russian army retreats, about ten thousand wounded died on the roads. Pierre leaves and learns about the death of Prince Andrei on the way.

Arriving in Moscow, Pierre receives an invitation from Adjutant Rostopchin to come to the Moscow Governor-General. Rostopchin recommends that Pierre put an end to the brotherhood.

Upon arrival home, Pierre reads his wife's letter. His head is churning with fragmented thoughts. All night he thinks about Prince Andrei, about the soldiers, about his wife, and in the morning he goes out through the back porch to the gate. Until the end of the Moscow ruin, no one else saw Pierre and did not know where he was.

Almost all of the Rostovs' acquaintances had already left, but they themselves did not leave Moscow almost until the enemy entered the city. The countess was very worried about the fate of her sons who were in the army. At night, she was tormented by heavy dreams: her sons dreamed of her dead.

In order to calm his wife a little, the count transferred Petya to another regiment. The countess was still waiting for her son, and he finally appeared. Two days later, a move was scheduled, for which nothing was ready in the family.

At the end of August, all of Moscow was in motion. Every day, thousands of wounded in the battle of Borodino were transported around the city. Thousands of carts with residents left Moscow. At the Rostovs, only Sonya, who had been very sad lately, was engaged in preparations for departure. She knows that Nikolai was carried away by Marya and wants to marry her.

On the day of the move, everything in the Rostovs' house was turned upside down, chests were standing around, hay was lying around, men were walking back and forth. The count has gone somewhere, the countess is suffering from a headache, Petya has gone to a friend, and only Sonya is watching the packing. Natasha sorts out old outfits.

A huge train of wounded men stopped in the street. Natasha went out into the street, saw a young pale officer and suggested to the chief that the wounded should stay at their house.

Dozens of carts with the wounded began to turn towards the Rostovs. Another wagon arrived at night. It contained the wounded Prince Andrei Bolkonsky. He was placed in an outbuilding.

In the morning everything was finally ready to move. Thirty carts were waiting for the Rostovs. A wounded officer approaches the count and asks to be taken with him and his orderly.

It was ordered to release two or three carts for the wounded.

Berg appears in his neat droshky on a pair of well-fed savras little ones.

He ended up in Moscow to buy some things from those who were leaving on the cheap. He asks Rostov for loaders.

The wounded are placed in empty carts. After lunch, everyone is on their way.

On the way, Sonya notices the carriage of Prince Andrei. The Countess decides not to tell Natasha anything. Natasha sees Pierre Bezukhov in a coachman's caftan, calls him. He comes up and says that he is staying in Moscow.

On the morning of September 2, the Russian army was already on the other side of Moscow and outside the city. Napoleon stood on Poklonnaya Hill and looked at the spectacle that opened before him. He was in excellent spirits. He demands to bring the boyars to whom he wants to address with a prepared speech.

The emperor wants to show himself magnanimous, but there is no one to appreciate this - Moscow is empty.

Napoleon gives a sign with his hand, and at the sound of a signal gun, the troops move to Moscow. Napoleon dismounted at the Dorogomilovsky outpost and walked there for a long time, waiting for the deputation.

When it turned out that Moscow was empty, Napoleon was amazed. There is almost no one in the city!

After meeting with Kutuzov, Count Rostopchin was extremely offended that he was not invited to the military council.

Kutuzov did not pay attention to his offer to take part in the defense of the capital and returned to Moscow. Soon Rostopchin received a letter from Kutuzov, in which he asked him to send policemen to send troops through the city. Rostopchin realized that the troops were leaving.

Subsequently, Count Rostopchin will say that at that time he did everything to keep calm in Moscow and expel the inhabitants from it.

However, he believed that one should not just leave Moscow - it was necessary to do it beautifully, with heroism. He decided to try on the role of the leader of the people's feelings. For a long time, he distributed posters about the war, in which he ridiculed military leaders.

Nevertheless, people left. Rostopchin releases the madmen from the clinic, releases the criminals and lays all his guilt on one unfortunate politician, whom he gives to the mob to be torn to pieces.

French troops entered Moscow. The Napoleonic army is exhausted. Dispersing to their apartments, the French give themselves up to looting, which they are engaged in for the next five weeks. At the exit from Moscow, everyone carries or carries with them a bunch of valuable things.

Pierre is close to insanity, leaves his home to get rid of confused thoughts. Lives in the apartment of the late Bazdeev. At first, he thought that his books and papers would help him clear his mind, but no matter what he read, the memories of the Battle of Borodino always passed in front of him in succession and there was a feeling of his insignificance in comparison with the truth, simplicity and strength of those people whom he called "they ". Pierre decides to take part in the people's defense of Moscow, but, realizing that they will not defend it, he decided to kill Napoleon himself.

The French come to Bazdeev's house. Pierre accidentally demonstrates his knowledge of the French language, after which he has to communicate with people he hates. He has yet to leave them.

The Rostov convoy stands in Mytishchi. You can see how Moscow is burning, you can hear how people are praying and crying. But Natasha doesn't seem to notice anything.

Sonya told her about the wounding of Prince Andrei and that he was here, that the wound was severe and it was impossible to see Bolkonsky now.

At night, Natasha runs to the hut where Prince Andrei is. She is afraid to see him, afraid that he is disfigured, crippled. Prince Andrei was the same as always, although exhausted. The inflamed complexion of his face, the brilliant eyes fixed enthusiastically on her, and especially the tender childish neck protruding from the turn-down collar of his shirt, gave him a special, innocent, childish look, which, however, Natasha did not notice in Prince Andrey. She walked over and knelt down. Andrew smiled and extended his hand to her. A week has passed since Bolkonsky was wounded. He kept falling into unconsciousness. In one of the moments of clarity of consciousness, he suddenly asks to bring the Gospel. When his request was granted, he again fell into delirium.

At night, Prince Andrei comes to his senses and begins to think about love. “Not the love that loves for something, but the love that I experienced for the first time, when, dying, I saw my enemy and still fell in love with him. Love your neighbors, love your enemies.

To love everything is to love God in all his manifestations. You can love a dear person with human love; but only the enemy can be loved by the love of God. By loving with human love, one can pass from love to hatred: but Divine love cannot change. She is the essence of the soul. And of all people, I did not love or hate anyone else like her.

Bolkonsky thinks about Natasha, and when the thought of how he dreams of seeing her at least once flashes through his mind, she appears before him. She asks for forgiveness, and Prince Andrei says that he loves her even more than before.

From that day on, during the entire further journey of the Rostovs, at all rests and overnight stays, Natasha did not leave the wounded Bolkonsky, and the doctor had to admit that he did not expect from the girl either such firmness or such skill in walking after the wounded.

Pierre is serious about carrying out his plan to assassinate Napoleon. He takes a dagger with him and walks through burning Moscow to the Arbat.

On the way, he suddenly heard a desperate cry and saw a family - a woman, two girls, from ten to twelve years old, a boy of seven years old. A baby was crying in the arms of the old nanny. The man, a short, round-shouldered man in a uniform, was opening chests and pulling out some robes from under them. It turned out that their daughter burned in the fire.

Pierre found the girl in the garden under a bench, took her to her relatives and saw that that family was no longer in the same place. There were other people there. The French approached either a Georgian or an Armenian family - an old man in a new sheepskin coat and new boots, an old woman and a young woman of extraordinary beauty. One of them pulled off the old man's boots, the other silently looked at the Armenian woman.

Pierre rushed to the Armenians when the marauder was already tearing the necklace from the neck of the Armenian woman. She screamed. Throwing the marauder aside, Bezukhov knocked him down and began to beat him with his fists. At that moment, a French lancer cavalry appeared.

Pierre was beaten, his hands were tied and he was searched. Of all the detainees, he seemed to the French the most suspicious. Pierre was placed separately from other prisoners.

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Volume One

Petersburg, summer 1805. Among other guests, Pierre Bezukhov, the illegitimate son of a wealthy nobleman, and Prince Andrei Bolkonsky are present at the evening at the maid of honor Scherer. The conversation turns to Napoleon, and both friends try to defend the great man from the condemnations of the hostess of the evening and her guests. Prince Andrei is going to war because he dreams of glory equal to that of Napoleon, and Pierre does not know what to do, participates in the revelry of St. Petersburg youth (Fyodor Dolokhov, a poor, but extremely strong-willed and determined officer, occupies a special place here); for another mischief, Pierre was expelled from the capital, and Dolokhov was demoted to the soldiers.

Further, the author takes us to Moscow, to the house of Count Rostov, a kind, hospitable landowner, who arranges a dinner in honor of the name day of his wife and youngest daughter. A special family structure unites the Rostovs' parents and children - Nikolai (he is going to war with Napoleon), Natasha, Petya and Sonya (a poor relative of the Rostovs); only the eldest daughter, Vera, seems to be a stranger.

At the Rostovs, the holiday continues, everyone is having fun, dancing, and at this time in another Moscow house - at the old Count Bezukhov - the owner is dying. An intrigue begins around the count's will: Prince Vasily Kuragin (a Petersburg courtier) and three princesses - all of them are distant relatives of the count and his heirs - are trying to steal a portfolio with Bezukhov's new will, according to which Pierre becomes his main heir; Anna Mikhailovna Drubetskaya, a poor lady from an aristocratic old family, selflessly devoted to her son Boris and seeking patronage for him everywhere, interferes with stealing the portfolio, and Pierre, now Count Bezukhov, gets a huge fortune. Pierre becomes his own person in Petersburg society; Prince Kuragin tries to marry him to his daughter - the beautiful Helen - and succeeds in this.

In Bald Mountains, the estate of Nikolai Andreevich Bolkonsky, the father of Prince Andrei, life goes on as usual; the old prince is constantly busy - either writing notes, or giving lessons to his daughter Marya, or working in the garden. Prince Andrei arrives with his pregnant wife Lisa; he leaves his wife in his father's house, and he himself goes to war.

Autumn 1805; the Russian army in Austria takes part in the campaign of the allied states (Austria and Prussia) against Napoleon. Commander-in-Chief Kutuzov does everything to avoid Russian participation in the battle - at the review of the infantry regiment, he draws the attention of the Austrian general to the poor uniforms (especially shoes) of Russian soldiers; right up to the battle of Austerlitz, the Russian army retreats in order to join the allies and not accept battles with the French. In order for the main Russian forces to be able to retreat, Kutuzov sends a detachment of four thousand under the command of Bagration to detain the French; Kutuzov manages to conclude a truce with Murat (French marshal), which allows him to gain time.

Junker Nikolai Rostov serves in the Pavlograd Hussar Regiment; he lives in an apartment in the German village where the regiment is stationed, along with his squadron commander, captain Vasily Denisov. One morning, Denisov lost his wallet with money - Rostov found out that Lieutenant Telyanin had taken the wallet. But this offense of Telyanin casts a shadow on the entire regiment - and the regiment commander demands that Rostov admit his mistake and apologize. The officers support the commander - and Rostov concedes; he does not apologize, but retracts his accusations, and Telyanin is expelled from the regiment due to illness. Meanwhile, the regiment goes on a campaign, and the junker's baptism of fire takes place during the crossing of the Enns River; the hussars must be the last to cross and set fire to the bridge.

During the battle of Shengraben (between the detachment of Bagration and the vanguard of the French army), Rostov is wounded (a horse was killed under him, he concussed his hand when he fell); he sees the French approaching and "with the feeling of a hare running away from the dogs", throws his pistol at the Frenchman and runs.

For participation in the battle, Rostov was promoted to cornet and awarded the soldier's St. George's Cross. He comes from Olmutz, where the Russian army is encamped in preparation for the review, to the Izmailovsky regiment, where Boris Drubetskoy is stationed, to see his childhood friend and collect letters and money sent to him from Moscow. He tells Boris and Berg, who lives with Drubetsky, the story of his injury - but not in the way it really happened, but in the way they usually tell about cavalry attacks (“how he chopped right and left”, etc.) .

During the review, Rostov experiences a feeling of love and adoration for Emperor Alexander; this feeling only intensifies during the battle of Austerlitz, when Nicholas sees the king - pale, crying from defeat, alone in the middle of an empty field.

Prince Andrei, right up to the Battle of Austerlitz, lives in anticipation of the great feat that he is destined to accomplish. He is annoyed by everything that is discordant with this feeling of his - and the trick of the mocking officer Zherkov, who congratulated the Austrian general on the next defeat of the Austrians, and the episode on the road when the doctor's wife asks to intercede for her and Prince Andrei is confronted by a convoy officer. During the Battle of Shengraben, Bolkonsky notices Captain Tushin, a “small round-shouldered officer” with an unheroic appearance, who is in command of the battery. The successful actions of Tushin's battery ensured the success of the battle, but when the captain reported to Bagration about the actions of his gunners, he became more shy than during the battle. Prince Andrei is disappointed - his idea of \u200b\u200bthe heroic does not fit either with the behavior of Tushin, or with the behavior of Bagration himself, who essentially did not order anything, but only agreed with what the adjutants and superiors who approached him offered him.

On the eve of the battle of Austerlitz there was a military council at which the Austrian General Weyrother read the disposition of the upcoming battle. During the council, Kutuzov openly slept, not seeing any use in any disposition and foreseeing that tomorrow's battle would be lost. Prince Andrei wanted to express his thoughts and his plan, but Kutuzov interrupted the council and suggested that everyone disperse. At night, Bolkonsky thinks about tomorrow's battle and about his decisive participation in it. He wants glory and is ready to give everything for it: “Death, wounds, loss of family, nothing is scary to me.”

The next morning, as soon as the sun came out of the fog, Napoleon signaled to start the battle - it was the day of the anniversary of his coronation, and he was happy and confident. Kutuzov, on the other hand, looked gloomy - he immediately noticed that confusion was beginning in the allied troops. Before the battle, the emperor asks Kutuzov why the battle does not begin, and hears from the old commander in chief: “That’s why I don’t start, sir, because we are not at the parade and not on Tsaritsyn Meadow.” Very soon, the Russian troops, finding the enemy much closer than expected, break up the ranks and flee. Kutuzov demands to stop them, and Prince Andrei, with a banner in his hands, rushes forward, dragging the battalion with him. Almost immediately he is wounded, he falls and sees a high sky above him with clouds quietly crawling over it. All his former dreams of glory seem to him insignificant; insignificant and petty seems to him and his idol, Napoleon, circling the battlefield after the French utterly defeated the allies. “Here is a beautiful death,” says Napoleon, looking at Bolkonsky. Convinced that Bolkonsky is still alive, Napoleon orders him to be taken to the dressing station. Among the hopelessly wounded, Prince Andrei was left in the care of the inhabitants.

Volume two

Nikolai Rostov comes home on vacation; Denisov goes with him. Rostov is everywhere - both at home and by acquaintances, that is, by all of Moscow - is accepted as a hero; he becomes close to Dolokhov (and becomes one of his seconds in a duel with Bezukhov). Dolokhov proposes to Sonya, but she, in love with Nikolai, refuses; at a farewell feast hosted by Dolokhov for his friends before leaving for the army, he beats Rostov (apparently not quite honestly) for a large sum, as if taking revenge on him for Sonin's refusal.

An atmosphere of love and fun reigns in the Rostovs' house, created primarily by Natasha. She sings and dances beautifully (at the ball with Yogel, the dance teacher, Natasha dances a mazurka with Denisov, which causes general admiration). When Rostov returns home in a depressed state after a loss, he hears Natasha's singing and forgets about everything - about the loss, about Dolokhov: "all this is nonsense‹...› but here it is - the real one." Nikolai admits to his father that he lost; when he manages to collect the required amount, he leaves for the army. Denisov, admired by Natasha, asks for her hand in marriage, is refused and leaves.

In December 1805, Prince Vasily visited the Bald Mountains with his youngest son, Anatole; Kuragin's goal was to marry his dissolute son to a wealthy heiress, Princess Marya. The princess was extraordinarily excited by the arrival of Anatole; the old prince did not want this marriage - he did not love the Kuragins and did not want to part with his daughter. By chance, Princess Mary notices Anatole, embracing her French companion, m-lle Bourienne; to her father's delight, she refuses Anatole.

After the battle of Austerlitz, the old prince receives a letter from Kutuzov, which says that Prince Andrei "fell a hero worthy of his father and his fatherland." It also says that Bolkonsky was not found among the dead; this allows us to hope that Prince Andrei is alive. Meanwhile, Princess Lisa, Andrey's wife, is about to give birth, and on the very night of the birth, Andrey returns. Princess Lisa dies; on her dead face, Bolkonsky reads the question: “What have you done to me?” - the feeling of guilt before the deceased wife no longer leaves him.

Pierre Bezukhov is tormented by the question of his wife's connection with Dolokhov: hints from acquaintances and an anonymous letter constantly raise this question. At a dinner in the Moscow English Club, arranged in honor of Bagration, a quarrel breaks out between Bezukhov and Dolokhov; Pierre challenges Dolokhov to a duel, in which he (who does not know how to shoot and has never held a pistol in his hands before) wounds his opponent. After a difficult explanation with Helen, Pierre leaves Moscow for St. Petersburg, leaving her a power of attorney to manage his Great Russian estates (which makes up most of his fortune).

On the way to St. Petersburg, Bezukhov stops at the postal station in Torzhok, where he meets famous freemason Osip Alekseevich Bazdeev, who instructs him - disappointed, confused, not knowing how and why to live on - and gives him a letter of recommendation to one of the St. Petersburg Masons. Upon arrival, Pierre joins the Masonic lodge: he is delighted with the truth that has been revealed to him, although the ritual of initiation into Masons confuses him somewhat. Filled with a desire to do good to his neighbors, in particular to his peasants, Pierre goes to his estates in the Kyiv province. There he very zealously embarks on reforms, but, having no "practical tenacity", turns out to be completely deceived by his manager.

Returning from a southern trip, Pierre visits his friend Bolkonsky at his estate, Bogucharovo. After Austerlitz, Prince Andrei firmly decided not to serve anywhere (in order to get rid of active service, he accepted the position of collecting the militia under the command of his father). All his worries are focused on his son. Pierre notices the "faded, dead look" of his friend, his detachment. Pierre's enthusiasm, his new views contrast sharply with Bolkonsky's skeptical mood; Prince Andrei believes that neither schools nor hospitals are needed for the peasants, and serfdom should be abolished not for the peasants - they are used to it - but for the landlords, who are corrupted by unlimited power over other people. When friends go to the Bald Mountains, to the father and sister of Prince Andrei, a conversation takes place between them (on the ferry during the crossing): Pierre sets out to Prince Andrei his new views (“we do not live now only on this piece of land, but we lived and will live forever there, in everything"), and Bolkonsky for the first time after Austerlitz sees the "high, eternal sky"; “something better that was in him suddenly woke up joyfully in his soul.” While Pierre was in the Bald Mountains, he enjoyed close, friendly relations not only with Prince Andrei, but also with all his relatives and household; for Bolkonsky, a new life (internally) began from a meeting with Pierre.

Returning from vacation to the regiment, Nikolai Rostov felt at home. Everything was clear, known in advance; True, it was necessary to think about how to feed people and horses - the regiment lost almost half of the people from hunger and disease. Denisov decides to recapture the food transport assigned to the infantry regiment; summoned to the headquarters, he meets Telyanin there (in the position of chief provisions officer), beats him and for this he must stand trial. Taking advantage of the fact that he was slightly wounded, Denisov goes to the hospital. Rostov visits Denisov in the hospital - he is struck by the sight of sick soldiers lying on straw and overcoats on the floor, the smell of a rotting body; in the officers' chambers, he meets Tushin, who has lost his arm, and Denisov, who, after some persuasion, agrees to submit a request for pardon to the sovereign.

With this letter, Rostov goes to Tilsit, where the meeting of two emperors, Alexander and Napoleon, takes place. At the apartment of Boris Drubetskoy, enlisted in the retinue of the Russian emperor, Nikolai sees yesterday's enemies - French officers, with whom Drubetskoy willingly communicates. All this - both the unexpected friendship of the adored tsar with yesterday's usurper Bonaparte, and the free friendly communication of the retinue officers with the French - all irritates Rostov. He cannot understand why battles were needed, arms and legs torn off, if the emperors are so kind to each other and reward each other and the soldiers of the enemy armies with the highest orders of their countries. By chance, he manages to pass a letter with Denisov's request to a familiar general, and he gives it to the tsar, but Alexander refuses: "the law is stronger than me." Terrible doubts in Rostov's soul end with the fact that he convinces familiar officers, like him, who are dissatisfied with the peace with Napoleon, and most importantly, himself that the sovereign knows better what needs to be done. And “our business is to cut and not think,” he says, drowning out his doubts with wine.

Those enterprises that Pierre started at home and could not bring to any result were executed by Prince Andrei. He transferred three hundred souls to free cultivators (that is, he freed them from serfdom); replaced corvée with dues on other estates; peasant children began to be taught to read and write, etc. In the spring of 1809, Bolkonsky went on business to the Ryazan estates. On the way, he notices how green and sunny everything is; only the huge old oak "did not want to submit to the charm of spring" - it seems to Prince Andrei in harmony with the sight of this gnarled oak that his life is over.

On guardian affairs, Bolkonsky needs to see Ilya Rostov, the district marshal of the nobility, and Prince Andrei goes to Otradnoye, the Rostov estate. At night, Prince Andrei hears the conversation between Natasha and Sonya: Natasha is full of delight from the charms of the night, and in the soul of Prince Andrei "an unexpected confusion of young thoughts and hopes arose." When - already in July - he passed the very grove where he saw the old gnarled oak, he was transformed: “juicy young leaves made their way through the hundred-year-old hard bark without knots.” “No, life is not over at thirty-one,” Prince Andrei decides; he goes to St. Petersburg to "take an active part in life."

In St. Petersburg, Bolkonsky becomes close to Speransky, the state secretary, an energetic reformer close to the emperor. For Speransky, Prince Andrei feels a feeling of admiration, "similar to the one he once felt for Bonaparte." The prince becomes a member of the commission for drafting the military regulations. At this time, Pierre Bezukhov also lives in St. Petersburg - he became disillusioned with Freemasonry, reconciled (outwardly) with his wife Helen; in the eyes of the world, he is an eccentric and kind fellow, but in his soul "the hard work of inner development" continues.

The Rostovs also end up in St. Petersburg, because the old count, wanting to improve his money matters, comes to the capital to look for places of service. Berg proposes to Vera and marries her. Boris Drubetskoy, already a close friend in the salon of Countess Helen Bezukhova, begins to go to the Rostovs, unable to resist Natasha's charm; in a conversation with her mother, Natasha admits that she is not in love with Boris and is not going to marry him, but she likes that he travels. The countess spoke with Drubetskoy, and he stopped visiting the Rostovs.

On New Year's Eve there should be a ball at the Catherine's grandee. The Rostovs are carefully preparing for the ball; at the ball itself, Natasha experiences fear and timidity, delight and excitement. Prince Andrei invites her to dance, and "the wine of her charms hit him in the head": after the ball, his work in the commission, the speech of the sovereign in the Council, and the activities of Speransky seem insignificant to him. He proposes to Natasha, and the Rostovs accept him, but according to the condition set by the old prince Bolkonsky, the wedding can take place only after a year. This year Bolkonsky is going abroad.

Nikolai Rostov comes on vacation to Otradnoye. He is trying to put the household affairs in order, trying to check the accounts of Mitenka's clerk, but nothing comes of it. In mid-September, Nikolai, the old count, Natasha and Petya, with a pack of dogs and a retinue of hunters, go out on a big hunt. Soon they are joined by their distant relative and neighbor ("uncle"). The old count with his servants let the wolf through, for which the hunter Danilo scolded him, as if forgetting that the count was his master. At this time, another wolf came out to Nikolai, and the dogs of Rostov took him. Later, the hunters met the hunt of a neighbor - Ilagin; the dogs of Ilagin, Rostov and the uncle chased the hare, but his uncle's dog Rugay took it, which delighted the uncle. Then Rostov with Natasha and Petya go to their uncle. After dinner, uncle began to play the guitar, and Natasha went to dance. When they returned to Otradnoye, Natasha admitted that she would never be as happy and calm as now.

Christmas time has come; Natasha languishes from longing for Prince Andrei - for a short time, she, like everyone else, is entertained by a trip dressed up to her neighbors, but the thought that "her best time is wasted" torments her. During Christmas time, Nikolai especially acutely felt love for Sonya and announced her to his mother and father, but this conversation upset them very much: the Rostovs hoped that Nikolai's marriage to a rich bride would improve their property circumstances. Nikolai returns to the regiment, and the old count with Sonya and Natasha leaves for Moscow.

Old Bolkonsky also lives in Moscow; he has visibly aged, become more irritable, relations with his daughter have deteriorated, which torments the old man himself, and especially Princess Marya. When Count Rostov and Natasha come to the Bolkonskys, they receive the Rostovs unfriendly: the prince - with a calculation, and Princess Marya - herself suffering from awkwardness. Natasha is hurt by this; to console her, Marya Dmitrievna, in whose house the Rostovs were staying, took her a ticket to the opera. In the theater, the Rostovs meet Boris Drubetskoy, now fiancé Julie Karagina, Dolokhov, Helen Bezukhova and her brother Anatole Kuragin. Natasha meets Anatole. Helen invites the Rostovs to her place, where Anatole pursues Natasha, tells her about his love for her. He secretly sends her letters and is going to kidnap her in order to get married in secret (Anatole was already married, but almost no one knew this).

The kidnapping fails - Sonya accidentally finds out about him and confesses to Marya Dmitrievna; Pierre tells Natasha that Anatole is married. Arriving Prince Andrei learns about Natasha's refusal (she sent a letter to Princess Marya) and about her affair with Anatole; through Pierre, he returns Natasha her letters. When Pierre comes to Natasha and sees her tear-stained face, he feels sorry for her and at the same time he unexpectedly tells her that if he were “the best person in the world”, then “on his knees he would ask for her hands and love” . In tears of "tenderness and happiness" he leaves.

Volume three

In June 1812, the war begins, Napoleon becomes the head of the army. Emperor Alexander, having learned that the enemy had crossed the border, sent Adjutant General Balashev to Napoleon. Balashev spends four days with the French, who do not recognize the importance he had at the Russian court, and finally Napoleon receives him in the very palace from which the Russian emperor sent him. Napoleon listens only to himself, not noticing that he often falls into contradictions.

Prince Andrei wants to find Anatole Kuragin and challenge him to a duel; for this he goes to St. Petersburg, and then to the Turkish army, where he serves at the headquarters of Kutuzov. When Bolkonsky learns about the beginning of the war with Napoleon, he asks for a transfer to the Western Army; Kutuzov gives him an assignment to Barclay de Tolly and releases him. On the way, Prince Andrei calls in the Bald Mountains, where outwardly everything is the same, but the old prince is very annoyed with Princess Mary and noticeably brings m-lle Bourienne closer to him. A difficult conversation takes place between the old prince and Andrey, Prince Andrey leaves.

The Pavlograd regiment, in which Nikolai Rostov still serves, already a captain, retreats from Poland to the Russian borders; none of the hussars think about where and why they are going. On July 12, one of the officers tells in the presence of Rostov about the feat of Raevsky, who brought two sons to the Saltanovskaya dam and went on the attack next to them; This story raises doubts in Rostov: he does not believe the story and does not see the point in such an act, if it really happened. The next day, at the town of Ostrovne, the Rostov squadron hit the French dragoons, who were pushing the Russian lancers. Nikolai captured a French officer "with a room face" - for this he received the St. George Cross, but he himself could not understand what confuses him in this so-called feat.

The Rostovs live in Moscow, Natasha is very ill, doctors visit her; at the end of Peter's Lent, Natasha decides to go to fast. On Sunday, July 12, the Rostovs went to mass at the Razumovskys' home church. Natasha is very impressed by the prayer (“Let us pray to the Lord in peace”). She gradually returns to life and even begins to sing again, which she has not done for a long time. Pierre brings the sovereign's appeal to the Muscovites to the Rostovs, everyone is touched, and Petya asks to be allowed to go to war. Having not received permission, Petya decides the next day to go to meet the sovereign, who is coming to Moscow, in order to express to him his desire to serve the fatherland.

The old Prince Bolkonsky is weakening; despite the fact that Prince Andrei informed his father in a letter that the French were already at Vitebsk and that his family's stay in the Bald Mountains was unsafe, the old prince laid a new garden and a new building on his estate. Prince Nikolai Andreevich sends the manager Alpatych to Smolensk with instructions, he, having arrived in the city, stops at the inn, at the familiar owner - Ferapontov. Alpatych gives the governor a letter from the prince and hears advice to go to Moscow. The bombardment begins, and then the fire of Smolensk. Ferapontov, who previously did not want to even hear about the departure, suddenly begins to distribute bags of food to the soldiers: “Bring everything, guys! ‹…› I made up my mind! Race!" Alpatych meets Prince Andrei, and he writes a note to his sister, offering to urgently leave for Moscow.

When Kutuzov is appointed commander in chief, he calls on Prince Andrei to himself; he arrives in Tsarevo-Zaimishche, at the main apartment. Kutuzov listens with sympathy to the news of the death of the old prince and invites Prince Andrei to serve at the headquarters, but Bolkonsky asks for permission to remain in the regiment. Denisov, who also arrived at the main apartment, hurries to present Kutuzov with a plan for a guerrilla war, but Kutuzov listens to Denisov (as well as the report of the general on duty) clearly inattentively, as if “by his life experience” despising everything that was said to him. And Prince Andrei leaves Kutuzov completely reassured. “He understands,” Bolkonsky thinks about Kutuzov, “that there is something stronger and more significant than his will, this is the inevitable course of events, and he knows how to see them, knows how to understand their meaning‹…› And the main thing is that he is Russian ".

After the battle of Borodino, Russian troops retreat to Fili; the main issue that the military leaders are discussing is the question of protecting Moscow. Kutuzov, realizing that there is no way to defend Moscow, gives the order to retreat. At the same time, Rostopchin, not understanding the meaning of what is happening, ascribes to himself the leading role in the abandonment and fire of Moscow - that is, in an event that could not have happened by the will of one person and could not have happened in the circumstances of that time. He advises Pierre to leave Moscow, reminding him of his connection with the Masons, gives the crowd to be torn apart by the merchant's son Vereshchagin and leaves Moscow. The French enter Moscow. Napoleon is standing on Poklonnaya Hill, waiting for the deputation of the boyars and playing generous scenes in his imagination; he is told that Moscow is empty.

Pierre did not leave Moscow, but left his home and began to live in the house of Bazdeev's widow. Even before the trip to Borodino, he learned from one of the Masonic brothers that the Apocalypse predicted the invasion of Napoleon; he began to calculate the meaning of the name of Napoleon ("the beast" from the Apocalypse), and this number was equal to 666; the same amount was obtained from the numerical value of his name. So Pierre discovered his destiny - to kill Napoleon. He remains in Moscow and prepares for a great feat. When the French enter Moscow, officer Rambal comes to Bazdeev's house with his batman. The insane brother of Bazdeev, who lived in the same house, shoots at Rambal, but Pierre snatches the pistol from him. During dinner, Rambal frankly tells Pierre about himself, about his love affairs; Pierre tells the Frenchman the story of his love for Natasha. The next morning he goes to the city, no longer believing his intention to kill Napoleon, saves the girl, stands up for the Armenian family, which is robbed by the French; he is arrested by a detachment of French lancers.

Volume Four

Petersburg life, "preoccupied only with ghosts, reflections of life," went on in the old way. Anna Pavlovna Scherer had an evening at which Metropolitan Platon's letter to the sovereign was read and Helen Bezukhova's illness was discussed. The next day, news was received about the abandonment of Moscow; after some time, Colonel Michaud arrived from Kutuzov with the news of the abandonment and fire of Moscow; during a conversation with Michaud, Alexander said that he himself would stand at the head of his army, but would not sign peace. Meanwhile, Napoleon sends Lauriston to Kutuzov with an offer of peace, but Kutuzov refuses "any kind of deal." The tsar demanded offensive actions, and, despite Kutuzov's reluctance, the Tarutino battle was given.

One autumn night, Kutuzov receives news that the French have left Moscow. Until the very expulsion of the enemy from the borders of Russia, all the activities of Kutuzov are aimed only at keeping the troops from useless offensives and clashes with the dying enemy. The French army melts in retreat; Kutuzov, on the way from Krasnoe to the main apartment, addresses the soldiers and officers: “While they were strong, we did not feel sorry for ourselves, but now you can feel sorry for them. They are people too." Intrigues do not stop against the commander-in-chief, and in Vilna the sovereign reprimands Kutuzov for his slowness and mistakes. Nevertheless, Kutuzov was awarded George I degree. But in the upcoming campaign - already outside of Russia - Kutuzov is not needed. “There was nothing left for the representative of the people's war but death. And he died."

Nikolai Rostov goes for repairs (to buy horses for the division) to Voronezh, where he meets Princess Marya; he again has thoughts of marrying her, but he is bound by the promise he made to Sonya. Unexpectedly, he receives a letter from Sonya, in which she returns his word to him (the letter was written at the insistence of the Countess). Princess Mary, having learned that her brother is in Yaroslavl, near the Rostovs, goes to him. She sees Natasha, her grief and feels closeness between herself and Natasha. She finds her brother in a state where he already knows that he will die. Natasha understood the meaning of the turning point that occurred in Prince Andrei shortly before her sister's arrival: she tells Princess Marya that Prince Andrei is "too good, he cannot live." When Prince Andrei died, Natasha and Princess Marya experienced "reverent emotion" before the sacrament of death.

The arrested Pierre is brought to the guardhouse, where he is kept along with other detainees; he is interrogated by French officers, then he gets interrogated by Marshal Davout. Davout was known for his cruelty, but when Pierre and the French marshal exchanged glances, they both vaguely felt that they were brothers. This look saved Pierre. He, along with others, was taken to the place of execution, where the French shot five, and Pierre and the rest of the prisoners were taken to the barracks. The spectacle of the execution had a terrible effect on Bezukhov, in his soul "everything fell into a heap of senseless rubbish." A neighbor in the barracks (his name was Platon Karataev) fed Pierre and reassured him with his affectionate speech. Pierre forever remembered Karataev as the personification of everything "Russian kind and round." Plato sews shirts for the French and several times notices that there are different people among the French. A party of prisoners is taken out of Moscow, and together with the retreating army they go along the Smolensk road. During one of the crossings, Karataev falls ill and is killed by the French. After that, Bezukhov has a dream at a halt in which he sees a ball, the surface of which consists of drops. Drops move, move; “Here he is, Karataev, spilled over and disappeared,” Pierre dreams. The next morning, a detachment of prisoners was repulsed by Russian partisans.

Denisov, the commander of the partisan detachment, is about to join forces with a small detachment of Dolokhov to attack a large French transport with Russian prisoners. From the German general, the head of a large detachment, a messenger arrives with a proposal to join in joint action against the French. This messenger was Petya Rostov, who remained for a day in Denisov's detachment. Petya sees Tikhon Shcherbaty returning to the detachment, a peasant who went to "take his tongue" and escaped the chase. Dolokhov arrives and, together with Petya Rostov, goes on reconnaissance to the French. When Petya returns to the detachment, he asks the Cossack to sharpen his saber; he almost falls asleep, and he dreams of the music. The next morning, the detachment attacks the French transport, and Petya dies during the skirmish. Among the captured prisoners was Pierre.

After his release, Pierre is in Orel - he is ill, the physical hardships he has experienced are affecting, but mentally he feels freedom he has never experienced before. He learns about the death of his wife, that Prince Andrei was alive for another month after being wounded. Arriving in Moscow, Pierre goes to Princess Mary, where he meets Natasha. After the death of Prince Andrei, Natasha closed herself in her grief; from this state she is brought out by the news of the death of Petya. She does not leave her mother for three weeks, and only she can ease the grief of the countess. When Princess Marya leaves for Moscow, Natasha, at the insistence of her father, goes with her. Pierre discusses with Princess Mary the possibility of happiness with Natasha; Natasha also awakens love for Pierre.

Epilogue

Seven years have passed. Natasha marries Pierre in 1813. The old Count Rostov is dying. Nikolai retires, accepts an inheritance - the debts turn out to be twice as much as the estates. He, along with his mother and Sonya, settled in Moscow, in a modest apartment. Having met Princess Marya, he tries to be restrained and dry with her (the thought of marrying a rich bride is unpleasant to him), but an explanation takes place between them, and in the fall of 1814 Rostov marries Princess Bolkonskaya. They move to the Bald Mountains; Nikolai skillfully manages the household and soon pays off his debts. Sonya lives in his house; “She, like a cat, took root not with people, but with the house.”

In December 1820, Natasha and her children stayed with her brother. They are waiting for Pierre's arrival from Petersburg. Pierre arrives, brings gifts to everyone. In the office between Pierre, Denisov (he is also visiting the Rostovs) and Nikolai, a conversation takes place, Pierre is a member of a secret society; he talks about bad government and the need for change. Nikolai disagrees with Pierre and says that he cannot accept the secret society. During the conversation, Nikolenka Bolkonsky, the son of Prince Andrei, is present. At night, he dreams that he, along with Uncle Pierre, in helmets, as in the book of Plutarch, are walking ahead of a huge army. Nikolenka wakes up with thoughts of her father and the future glory.

retold

The third volume of the novel "War and Peace" covers mainly the military events of 1812: the offensive of the French troops, the Battle of Borodino and the capture of Moscow by Napoleon. Numerous "military" episodes are closely intertwined with descriptions of the "peaceful" life of the characters, in which the author emphasizes the influence of historical changes on the fate and worldview not only of the characters in the novel, but of the entire Russian people. The summary of the 3rd volume of "War and Peace", which can be read online on our website without downloading, will allow you to quickly get acquainted with the main events of this part of the novel.

Important quotations are highlighted in gray, this will help to more accurately convey the meaning of the third volume.

Part 1

Chapter 1

June 12, 1812 the forces of Western Europe crossed the borders Russian Empire. Starting the first part of the third volume of "War and Peace" with reflections on the coming war, the author comes to the conclusion that it was inevitable.

Chapter 2

On May 29, Napoleon travels from Dresden, Germany, to Poland, where his army is stationed. On the way, Bonaparte orders the French army to move to the borders of Russia, although he had previously written to Emperor Alexander that he did not want war. French troops cross the Neman River and begin an offensive against Russia.

Chapter 3

Russian Emperor Alexander is in Vilna. The emperor did not have an exact plan of action - they were waiting for the war, but did not prepare for it. On the day when the French troops crossed the Neman, Alexander was at a ball in his honor.

Upon learning of the French offensive, Alexander writes a letter to Napoleon stating that if the French do not leave the territory of Russia, he will be forced to repel the attack.

Chapters 4-5

Alexander sends Adjutant General Balashev to deliver the letter personally to Napoleon. Balashev is not given due respect at the French outposts (even having learned his high rank), but they still promise to take him to Napoleon. Balashev spent several days in the French camp, after which he was transferred to Vilna, now occupied by the French.

Chapter 6

Reception of Balashev by Bonaparte (in the same house where the Russian emperor sent him a few days ago). Napoleon reports that he has read Alexander's letter and claims that he does not want war. Balashev replies that peace is possible only if the French troops retreat. In anger, Napoleon says that it was not he who started the war, but Alexander, who “was the first to come to the army”, made peace with the Turks and an alliance with England.

Chapter 7

Balashev receives an invitation to dinner from Napoleon. Over coffee, Napoleon talks about the fact that Alexander brought all his personal enemies closer to him. Bonaparte does not understand why Alexander "took command of the troops": "war is my trade, and his business is to reign, not to command the troops."

Balashev leaves, hands Bonaparte's letter and retells the details of their conversation to Alexander. The war begins.

Chapter 8

Prince Andrei travels to St. Petersburg in search of Anatole Kuragin (in order to challenge him to a duel), but instead of an opponent he meets Kutuzov, who offers to join the Turkish army as part of the Russian army. After receiving news of the war in 1812, Andrei was transferred to the Western army.

On the way, Andrey calls in Bald Mountains. There was a split in the family: the elder Bolkonsky was courting Bourien, blaming Marya for ill-bringing Nikolushka, Andrei's son. Bolkonsky is angry with his father because of his attitude towards Marya, moreover, he does not feel the same tenderness for his son. Leaving, Bolkonsky thinks that he does not know why he is going to war.

Chapter 9

Bolkonsky arrives in the Drissa camp, in the main apartment (headquarters) of the Russian. Existing Russian political parties are dissatisfied with the course of hostilities, but not everyone is aware of their real threat. Officials write a letter to Alexander, advising the sovereign to leave the army (located near the Drissa camp) and begin to rule from the capital.

Chapter 10

Another offensive of Bonaparte. Alexander inspects the Drissa camp set up by General Pfulem, with which many military leaders are dissatisfied. At the apartment of General Benigsen, Bolkonsky personally meets with Pfuel (a typical German theorist who feels himself in place only behind the map).

Chapter 11

At the military council, Pfuel puts forward his plan of action, those present for a long time heatedly argue about its correctness, suggesting other options for action: "everyone is good, and everyone is bad, and the benefits of any situation can be obvious only at the moment when the event happens" . Andrey thinks that "there is and cannot be any military science," since in war there are no predetermined conditions and circumstances. The next day, Bolkonsky decides to serve in the army, and not in the headquarters.

Chapter 12

The Pavlograd regiment, in which Nikolai Rostov serves, retreats to Poland. Bypassing the river Drissa, they are approaching the Russian borders.

Having learned about the feat of Raevsky, who, having brought two sons, still boys, to the dam, went on the attack with them, Rostov doubts his heroism, since he considers it wrong and unreasonable to lead the boys on the attack. In addition, he knows that any stories about exploits are exaggerated and are needed only to glorify the Russian army.

Chapter 13

The officers have fun in an abandoned tavern.

Chapters 14-15

The squadron of Rostov acts to Ostrovna. The beginning of the battle. At the time of the French pursuit of the Russian lancers (lightly armed cavalry), Rostov noticed that if the French were hit now, they would not resist, and would attack the enemy with their squadron. The French retreat. Nikolai captures a French officer with a "quiet, roomy face", for which Rostov is awarded the St. George Cross and given a battalion of hussars.

Nikolai is tormented by conflicting thoughts about his feat and heroism, he does not understand why to kill the French, because they are "even more afraid of us."

Chapter 16

The Rostovs with the whole family returned to their home in Moscow. After the break with Prince Andrei, Natasha began a serious illness - the girl did not drink, did not eat, coughed. The doctors could not understand the causes of Natasha's illness, not realizing that the reasons lay in the depressed state of mind of the girl. However, youth took its toll, and Natasha gradually began to forget her grief and recover.

Chapter 17

Natasha avoids any entertainment, refuses to sing, she is very worried about her betrayal of Andrei. The girl recalls happy moments, thinking that there will be no more joyful days. Natasha moves away from her relatives and is glad only for Pierre to come to them, but she does not realize that Bezukhov loves her.

Following the example of Agrafena Ivanovna (a neighbor of the Rostovs in Otradnoye), Natasha decides to attend all church services that awaken in her a sense of "the possibility of a new, pure life and happiness." After Communion (a church ceremony, one of the seven Sacraments, which consists in the consecration of bread and wine and their subsequent eating), the girl felt calm and happy.

Chapter 18

Disturbing rumors about the course of the war are spreading in Moscow. On July 11, a manifesto was received on the collection of the Russian militia against the French. On Sunday, the Rostovs, as usual, go to the house church of the Razumovskys. During the service, the priest begins to read a prayer for the salvation of Russia from enemy invasion. Natasha asks God to forgive her and everyone, and give them peace and happiness in life.

Chapter 19

All Pierre's thoughts are filled with memories of Natasha, but he feels that a catastrophe is coming that will change his life. The Freemason brother told Pierre that the Apocalypse of John predicted a prophecy about the appearance of Napoleon. Carrying out calculations, Bezukhov writes the name of Bonaparte in numbers, and, adding them up, gets the “number of the beast” - 666. And then his own, and also gets 666. Pierre decides that he is connected with Napoleon, and stopping Bonaparte is his highest mission.

Chapter 20

Bezukhov at a dinner at the Rostovs. Natasha admits to Pierre that he is important to her. The girl is interested in whether Prince Andrei will ever be able to forgive her. Pierre is unable to finish his answer, as he is overcome by a feeling of tenderness and love for Natasha.

The Rostovs read a manifesto aloud, in which in question"about the dangers threatening Russia, about the hopes placed by the sovereign on Moscow" . Petya asks his parents to identify him for military service, but the count claims that all this is nonsense.

Pierre decides not to visit the Rostovs anymore because of his love for Natasha.

Chapter 21

Alexander I arrives in Moscow. Petya is going to personally ask the sovereign to send him to military service, but when he finds himself in a screaming, excited crowd at the Kremlin, he changes his mind. After dinner, Alexander comes out with a biscuit, a piece of which falls into the crowd. In the crush, Petya manages to grab a piece, although he himself does not understand why. Returning home, Petya says that if he is not allowed to fight, he will run away.

Chapters 22-23

A meeting of nobles and merchants takes place in the Sloboda yard. They don't want to help the militia. Alexander appears and everyone, with tears in their eyes, listens to his inspired speech about the need to immediately help the Russian army and then give significant amounts. Pierre, feeling that he was ready to sacrifice everything, gave a thousand people. Old man Rostov, impressed by Alexander's speech, immediately went to enlist Petya in the army.

Part 2

Chapter 1

At the beginning of the second part of the third volume of "War and Peace" the author discusses the events of the war of 1812 and the role of Alexander and Napoleon in it. Tolstoy writes that their will, in fact, did not matter.

Napoleon moves inland, approaches Smolensk. Residents of Smolensk burn the city and head towards Moscow, "inciting hatred for the enemy" among residents of other cities.

Chapter 2

Bald Mountains. After the last quarrel with his son Andrei, the elder Bolkonsky alienates Bourien from himself. A letter arrives from Andrey, in which the prince writes about the course of the war and the approach of the enemy, advises the family to move away from the epicenter of the battles - to Moscow. The old prince has little idea of the scale of the war, he is sure that the French will never penetrate further than the Neman.

Chapters 3-4

The old prince Bolkonsky sends Alpatych (manager of the estate) to Smolensk to find out the situation. In Smolensk, Alpatych observes the accumulation of Russian troops, people are fleeing the city.
Siege of Smolensk. The city is rented out, people collect things and set fire to their houses. Among the crowd, Prince Andrei meets Alpatych and sends a letter through him to his relatives so that they immediately leave for Moscow.

Chapter 5

Having visited the Bald Mountains (from where his relatives had already left), Andrei returns to the regiment and on the way he sees bathing soldiers: “naked, white human meat floundered in this dirty puddle with laughter and boom.” From what he sees, Bolkonsky shudders, feeling disgust and horror.

Bagration's letter to Arakcheev, in which the military leader accuses the Minister of War and Commander-in-Chief Barclay de Tolly. He writes that they left Smolensk in vain, because Napoleon was at a disadvantage. Bagration emphasizes that the army should be commanded by one, not two.

Chapter 6

Petersburg. In Helen's salon, the war is treated as empty demonstrations that will soon end. Prince Vasily speaks sharply about Kutuzov, but after the appointment of Kutuzov as commander-in-chief of "the armies and the entire region occupied by troops", he warmly stands up for the commander.

Chapter 7

The French are moving from Smolensk to Moscow.

Chapter 8

Bald Mountains. Old Bolkonsky realizes the approach of the war and orders his daughter and grandson to leave for Bogucharovo. The prince has a stroke, he is paralyzed. Old Bolkonsky is transported to Bogucharovo, where he lies unconscious and delirious. Being next to her seriously ill father, Marya "often watched him, not with the hope of finding signs of relief, but watched, often wanting to find signs of approaching the end." The girl begins to think about what had not occurred to her for years: “thoughts about a free life without the eternal fear of a father, even thoughts about the possibility of love and family happiness, like the temptations of the devil, were constantly rushing in her imagination.” The old prince gets better for a while and he asks his daughter for forgiveness for everything he did. He says Russia is dead. Before his death, the prince is delirious, he has a second stroke, and he dies.

Chapters 9-12

Marya is very worried about the death of her father, reproaching herself for waiting for his death. Upon learning of the approach of the French, Marya decides to leave immediately, as she does not want to be captured by the enemy.

The Bogucharov peasants (people with a “wild character”) do not want to let Mary go to Moscow, and the head of the peasants, Dron, refuses even to give the princess horses and carts for her things.

Chapter 13

Nikolai Rostov, Ilyin (a young officer) and Lavrushka (former Denisov's serf serving at Rostov) visit Bogucharovo in search of hay for horses. Meeting of Nicholas and Mary. The princess, seeing in him a man of her own circle, tells in a broken voice about the rebellion of the peasants. Rostov was struck by the look of Marya, he assures the girl that he will accompany her, and no one will dare to prevent her from leaving.

Chapter 14

Rostov pacifies the rioting peasants in Bogucharovo. Marya's departure from Bogucharov. The princess is grateful to Nikolai for his help. The girl understands that she loves Rostov, reassuring herself that no one will know about it. Nikolai also really liked Marya, he thinks that their wedding would make everyone happy.

Chapter 15

At the call of Kutuzov, Prince Andrei arrives at the main apartment in Tsarevo-Zaimishche. Bolkonsky meets Denisov, the men remember their love for Natasha, perceiving this as a distant past.
Denisov sets out to Kutuzov his plan for a guerrilla war (in theory, very sensible), but the commander-in-chief almost does not listen to him - Kutuzov despised “knowledge and intelligence in the war and knew something else that should have solved the matter”.

Chapter 16

Kutuzov wants to keep Bolkonsky with him, but Andrei, having thanked him, refuses. Kutuzov agrees that "there are always many advisers, but there are no people." He promises Andrei that the French will eat horse meat, the main thing is patience and time.

Chapter 17

In Moscow, the approach of the French is treated lightly, as if there had never been a report of their approach.

Chapter 18

After long hesitation, Bezukhov leaves for the army in Mozhaisk and goes further with the army. Encountering troops everywhere along the way, Pierre feels a sense of unease and restlessness, while feeling the need to sacrifice everything for everyone.

Chapter 19

Reasoning, the author writes that the Battle of Borodino did not matter to both opponents. And the battle itself did not take place as planned in advance: it began suddenly, in an open area, where it was impossible to hold out for more than three hours without losing the entire army.

Chapter 20

On the way to the army, Bezukhov sees militiamen passing by. Pierre was visited by a strange thought that struck him: “that out of those thousands of people alive, healthy, young and old, there were probably twenty thousand doomed to wounds and death.” "They may die tomorrow, why do they think of anything other than death?" .

Chapter 21

Arriving at the army, Bezukhov witnesses a church procession and a prayer service - the icon of the Smolensk Mother of God, taken out by the army from Smolensk, was brought to the battlefield.

Chapters 22-23

Pierre meets with Boris Drubetsky and other acquaintances. On their faces, Bezukhov sees animation and anxiety on their faces. “But it seemed to Pierre that the reason for the excitement expressed in some of these persons lay more in matters of personal success” than in the general victory of the Russian people over the enemy.

Bezukhov also meets Dolokhov. Fedorov reconciles before the battle with Pierre (earlier, Pierre severely wounded Dolokhov in a duel as he courted Helen), saying that he does not know how the coming battle will end and who will survive. Dolokhov regrets what happened and asks for forgiveness for everything, hugs Bezukhov with tears in his eyes.

Chapter 24

On the eve of the battle, Bolkonsky feels the same strong excitement and irritation as before Austerlitz. For the first time he clearly understands the "possibility of death".

Meeting of Andrey and Pierre. Bolkonsky is unpleasant to see Bezukhov reminding him of the past. Pierre becomes uneasy when he notices this.

Chapter 25

Andrei is talking with Pierre and the officers about the disposition of the troops, about Kutuzov, about the upcoming battle. Bolkonsky talks about the war, expressing the same thoughts that guide Kutuzov: that in war everything depends on the people and the case, and success depends on the feeling in every soldier. Andrei is confident in the victory of the Russians.

Left alone, Bolkonsky tells Pierre that the French for him are enemies who have ruined his house, so they need to be destroyed. When Pierre leaves, it seems to him that this is their last meeting.

Chapter 26

In a conversation with Napoleon before the Battle of Borodino, Prefect Bosset assures the emperor that he will see Moscow in three days. Napoleon tells the French army that victory depends only on them.

Chapter 27

Napoleon inspects the battlefield, indicates the disposition and issues orders that, for various reasons, cannot be carried out.

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Before the battle, Napoleon is nervous, but tries not to show it. In a conversation with the adjutant, Bonaparte asks his opinion about the upcoming battle. The adjutant answers with the words of Bonaparte, spoken by him in Smolensk: the wine is uncorked, we must drink it. Napoleon agrees that we must only go forward.

The beginning of the Battle of Borodino at dawn. "The game has begun" .

Chapter 30

Standing on the mound, Pierre admires the panorama of the battle, the area covered with troops and the smoke of shots: “it was all lively, majestic and unexpected.” Wanting to be in the thick of the battle, he goes after the general.

Chapter 31

Pierre is on the front line, while not immediately noticing the wounded and killed and realizing that he is already on the battlefield. General Raevsky's adjutant takes him with him to Raevsky's battery.

The height of the battle. Piera sees that from the moment the battle began, twenty dead have already been taken out of the battery. Russian soldiers, without giving up, beat off the attack of the French, even with a lack of shells. Pierre, wanting to help, runs after the soldier to the boxes of shells. But a terrible push (a cannonball fired by the French fell nearby) threw him back. When he woke up, only the boards remained of the box.

Chapter 32

Attack by the French of Raevsky's battery. Fight Bezukhov with a French officer. Pierre was clearly physically stronger than the enemy, but, trying to dodge the cannonball flying nearby, he releases the Frenchman, and the enemy runs away to his own. Bezukhov runs back to Raevsky's battery, "stumbling over the dead and wounded, who, it seemed to him, were catching him by the legs." Before reaching, he sees that the Russians have recaptured the battery from the French. Pierre is horrified by the number of dead and wounded, he thought that now the French would “be horrified by what they had done” and stop the battle, but the shooting only intensified.

Chapters 33-34

Napoleon leads the Battle of Borodino. Looking through the pipe, he cannot understand where the French troops are and where the enemy troops are. In the heat of battle, it was difficult to make out what was happening now, so Napoleon's orders were not always correct and were late. Everything happened not by the will of the emperor or the military leaders, but by the will of the crowd rushing across the field.

Napoleon begins to doubt victory. He sees that there is no battle as such, there is a senseless murder that will lead to nothing, and for the first time the war seemed to him unnecessary and terrible.

Chapter 35

During the Battle of Borodino, Kutuzov does not try to change anything, allowing what needs to be done to happen, only following the elusive force - the “spirit of the army”, leading it if possible.

Chapter 36

Bolkonsky's regiment is in reserves under heavy French fire. One of the shells falls near Andrei. They shouted to him “Lie down!”, but he, wanting to show fearlessness, remains standing and receives a severe wound in the stomach. The prince is taken to the dressing station. Bolkonsky thinks that he does not want to part with life, because "there was something in this life that I did not understand and do not understand."

Chapter 37

At the dressing station, Andrey notices the wounded, heavily sobbing Anatol Kuragin, after a serious injury, his leg was amputated. In semi-delusion, Bolkonsky recalls Natasha, how he first saw her at the ball and how he is connected with this wounded man (Anatole), he feels sorry for Rostov.

Chapter 38

The terrible sight of the battlefield with thousands of dead amazes Napoleon. It seems to him that the war with Russia took place at his will and is horrified by what happened.

Chapter 39

The author reflects on the results and significance of the Battle of Borodino, which, according to history, the Russians lost. Tolstoy believes that in this battle the Russians won a moral victory - one that "convinces the enemy of the moral superiority of his enemy and of his impotence."

Part 3

Chapters 1-2

The third part of the third volume of "War and Peace", like the previous parts, begins with the author's reflections on the driving forces of history. He believes that historical laws can only be understood by leaving kings, generals and ministers alone, by starting to study "homogeneous, infinitesimal elements that guide the masses."

The Russians are retreating, the French are gradually approaching Moscow.

Chapter 3

Kutuzov's conversation with the generals on Poklonnaya Hill. The Commander-in-Chief understands that physical forces are not enough to protect Moscow.

Chapter 4

Military Council in Fili, which is attended by the generals of the Russian army. Kutuzov asks: is it worth risking the loss of the army and Moscow by accepting the battle, or giving up the city without a fight? Benigsen believes that giving up Moscow is unacceptable. Disputes begin in the council, as a result, Kutuzov gives the order to retreat.

Chapter 5

Reflecting on the fact that the inhabitants of Moscow left the city, the author believes that this was inevitable. The rich took everything of value and left the city. Those who could not leave tried to burn everything that was left so that the enemy would not get it. This does not please the Governor-General Count Rostopchin, who tried to convince people to stay in the city.

Chapter 7

In St. Petersburg, Helen becomes close to a nobleman and a foreign prince. Meet a Catholic Jesuit. His words about God impress the woman, and Bezukhov accepts Catholicism (while considering Pierre an adherent of a false religion).

Chapter 7

Helen wants to get married a second time, preparing secular society for this. A woman spreads a rumor that she cannot choose between two applicants. Hélène writes a letter to Pierre asking for a divorce.

Chapters 8-9

After the Battle of Borodino, Pierre goes to Mozhaisk. He reflects on what he saw in the war and wants to return to normal living conditions as soon as possible. Pierre arranges to spend the night at an inn in Mozhaisk. Before going to sleep, he recalls the behavior of soldiers on the battlefield, their firmness and calmness, he wants to be a simple soldier.

In a dream, Bezukhov sees a dinner attended by Dolokhov, Anatole, Denisov, Nesvitsky. They all have fun, sing and shout loudly, but this does not prevent them from hearing the "voice of the benefactor." “Pierre did not understand what the benefactor was saying, but he knew that the benefactor was talking about good”, about the possibility of being like “they”, because all “they” were good. Pierre tries to attract their attention to himself, but wakes up and understands that “simplicity is obedience to God”, “and they (Dolokhov, Anatol, Denisov, Nesvitsky) are simple. They don't talk, they do."

Pierre goes to Moscow. On the way, he is informed of the deaths of Anatole Kuragin and Andrei Bolkonsky.

Chapters 10-11

In Moscow, Bezukhov summons Rostopchin. Upon learning that Pierre is a Freemason, the Count reports that many prominent figures of Freemasonry have been arrested on suspicion of spreading French propaganda, and therefore advises Pierre to break ties with the Freemasons and leave himself.

Pierre reads Helen's letter and does not understand the meaning of what is written. In the morning, a police official sent by Rastopchin comes to Pierre. Not accepting him, Bezukhov hurriedly leaves through the back porch of the house and "disappears".

Chapter 12

Peter's return home. There are various rumors in Moscow before the French invasion, but people understand that the city will be surrendered. The Rostovs are about to leave.

Chapter 13

Natasha meets a convoy with the wounded on the street and seeks permission for the wounded to stop at their house. Petya arrives at lunchtime with a message that Rostopchin calls on everyone to go and fight on the Three Mountains tomorrow. The countess is very worried about her son and wants to leave as soon as possible.

Chapter 14

Natasha is busy collecting things for departure - she packs only the necessary and expensive ones. A carriage with the wounded Bolkonsky stops at the Rostovs' house.

Chapters 15-16

The last day before the surrender of Moscow to the French. The wounded ask Count Rostov to take them with him. Ilya Andreevich orders some carts to be unloaded, but the countess is dissatisfied with her husband, reproaching him for ruining his children with this, and forbids this. Natasha is angry with her mother, calling her act an abomination and disgusting. The girl screams at her mother, but then asks for forgiveness. The Countess gives in.

Chapter 17

The Rostovs are leaving Moscow. The Countess and Sonya decide not to tell Natasha yet that the mortally wounded Bolkonsky is in the very first wagon.

On the way, the Rostovs meet Bezukhov dressed up in a coachman's caftan. He looks confused, hesitantly answers their questions and, kissing Natasha's hand, leaves.

Chapter 18

After returning to Moscow, Pierre experienced a feeling of hopelessness and confusion, it seemed to him that “everything is now over, everything is mixed up, everything has collapsed, that there is neither right nor guilty, that there will be nothing ahead and that there is no way out of this situation.” Bezukhov settles in the apartment of the widow of the freemason Bazdeev, finds peasant clothes for himself and is going to buy a gun.

Chapters 19-20

The author compares the deserted Moscow with a beehive that has become de-matured. Being on Poklonnaya Hill, Napoleon waits in vain for the deputation of the "boyars". Looking at Moscow, he thinks that his long-standing desire, which seemed impossible to him, has finally come true. Napoleon is informed that the city is empty, he cannot believe it.

Chapters 21-23

Description of the movement of Russian troops in Moscow, who took away the last wounded and those who wanted to leave the city. Crush on the Moskvoretsky bridge. Some, taking advantage of the tightness and confusion, robbed the abandoned shops. Before the enemy enters Moscow, riots begin in the city among those who remain in the city: street fights, a revelry of factory workers, a procession of a crowd along the street, etc.

Chapters 24-25

The authority of Rostopchin among those who remained in Moscow is weakening. Wanting to regain the trust of the people, he brings Vereshchagin to them (translator, writer, who was dubbed a traitor and the main culprit in the surrender of Moscow). Gives him to be torn to pieces by a fierce crowd, which brutally kills a man in a matter of minutes. The count believes that he gave Vereshchagin to the crowd for the good of the people.

Chapter 26

French troops have entered Moscow, and robberies and looting continue in the empty city, although the military leaders are trying to stop the soldiers. The Kremlin tried to protect four people who were quickly killed.

The author reflects on the causes of the fire in Moscow. He believes that "it was placed in such conditions under which any wooden city should burn down." After all, the city could not help but burn down, where soldiers live, smoking pipes and kindling fires in the streets. The author points out that "Moscow was burned by the inhabitants who left it", due to the fact that they "did not bring bread and salt and keys to the French", simply leaving the city.

Chapters 27-29

Being at Bazdeev's apartment, Pierre is in a state close to insanity. He is determined to kill Napoleon, although he does not know how.

Having accidentally witnessed the attack of an old madman (Bazdeev's brother) on the French officer Rambal, Pierre saves the Frenchman by knocking out a pistol aimed at Rambal from the hands of Bazdeev's brother. The Frenchman begins to consider Bezukhov his friend. During dinner, men discuss love topics. Pierre's confessions. He says that “all his life he loved and loves only one woman”, but she “can never belong to him”, tells the story of Natasha and Andrei, reveals her name and position in society to the Frenchman.

Chapters 30-31

While lodging for the night in Mytishchi, the Rostovs see the glow of the Moscow fire. Natasha learns that the wounded Andrey is traveling with them. All day thinking about what she will see him, the girl makes her way to him at night. “He was the same as always,” but the girl is struck by his “special, innocent, childish appearance, which, however, she had never seen in Prince Andrei.” Bolkonsky smiled and extended his hand to her.

Chapter 32

For seven days after being wounded, Bolkonsky was unconscious. When he wakes up, he suffers from unbearable pain. The doctor considers his wound fatal, assuming that Andrey will die soon.
Bolkonsky is changing his views on the world. He realizes that love for the sake of love itself is not true, since it is necessary to love everyone: both enemies and relatives with “divine love” - “loving with human love, you can go from love to hatred; but divine love cannot change" - "it is the essence of the soul". Andrei confesses this love to Natasha. The prince asks her forgiveness, saying that he loves her even more now. Natasha takes care of the wounded Bolkonsky without leaving him a single step.

Chapters 33-34

Pierre walks the streets of Moscow, he is delirious, as his plan to kill Napoleon with a dagger fell through - Bonaparte left the city 5 hours ago. Hearing cries for help, which seemed to sober him up, Bezukhov takes a child out of the burning house. Pierre tries to find the mother of the rescued girl and ends up giving the child to a woman who knew her parents. Immediately he notices how the French are robbing a young beautiful Armenian woman and an elderly old man. Bezukhov stands up for them, starting with violent force to strangle one of the French. Pierre is taken into custody by the French patrol, who arrested suspicious Russians. Since Bezukhov seemed the most suspicious, he was placed separately under a strict guard.

Results of the third volume

The third volume of "War and Peace" is the key in the whole epic - it is in it that Tolstoy describes the culminating episode not only of his novel, but also of Russian history of the 19th century as a whole - the Battle of Borodino, around which many storylines of the work develop. The author, depicting horrific military episodes, emphasizes that even in the most difficult moments, the only feeling that can withstand any difficulties is the feeling of all-encompassing love for humanity: for relatives, friends and even the enemy.

This brief retelling of the 3rd volume of "War and Peace" was made by a teacher of Russian literature.

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Lev Nikolayevich Tolstoy

War and Peace

PART ONE

From the end of 1811, increased armament and concentration of forces in Western Europe began, and in 1812 these forces - millions of people (including those who transported and fed the army) moved from West to East, to the borders of Russia, to which, in the same way, with In 1811, the forces of Russia were drawn together. On June 12, the forces of Western Europe crossed the borders of Russia, and the war began, that is, an event contrary to human reason and all human nature took place. Millions of people have committed against each other such countless atrocities, deceptions, treason, theft, forgery and issuance of false banknotes, robberies, arson and murders, which for centuries will not be collected by the chronicle of all the courts of the world and which, in this period of time, people those who committed them were not looked upon as crimes.

What produced this extraordinary event? What were the reasons for it? Historians say with naive certainty that the causes of this event were the insult inflicted on the Duke of Oldenburg, non-compliance with the continental system, Napoleon's lust for power, Alexander's firmness, diplomats' mistakes, etc.

Consequently, it was only necessary for Metternich, Rumyantsev or Talleyrand, between the exit and the reception, to try hard and write a more ingenious piece of paper or Napoleon to write to Alexander: Monsieur mon fr

It is clear that such was the case for contemporaries. It is clear that it seemed to Napoleon that the intrigues of England were the cause of the war (as he said this on the island of St. Helena); it is understandable that it seemed to the members of the English Chamber that Napoleon's lust for power was the cause of the war; that it seemed to the Prince of Oldenburg that the cause of the war was the violence committed against him; that it seemed to the merchants that the cause of the war was the continental system that was ruining Europe, that it seemed to the old soldiers and generals that main reason there was a need to put them to work; to the legitimists of the time that it was necessary to restore les bons principes [good principles], and to the diplomats of the time that everything happened because the alliance of Russia with Austria in 1809 was not cleverly hidden from Napoleon and that m

For us, descendants, who are not historians, who are not carried away by the process of research and therefore contemplate the event with unobscured common sense, its causes appear in innumerable numbers. The more we delve into the search for causes, the more they are revealed to us, and any single reason or a whole series of reasons seems to us equally just in itself, and equally false in its insignificance in comparison with the enormity of the event, and equally false in its invalidity ( without the participation of all other coincident causes) to produce an accomplished event. The same reason as Napoleon's refusal to withdraw his troops beyond the Vistula and give back the Duchy of Oldenburg seems to us the desire or unwillingness of the first French corporal to enter the secondary service: for if he did not want to go to the service and would not want another, and the third , and a thousandth corporal and soldier, so much less people would be in Napoleon's army, and there could be no war.

If Napoleon had not been offended by the demand to retreat beyond the Vistula and had not ordered the troops to advance, there would have been no war; but if all the sergeants did not wish to enter the secondary service, there could also be no war. There could also be no war if there were no intrigues of England, and there would be no Prince of Oldenburg and a feeling of insult in Alexander, and there would be no autocratic power in Russia, and there would be no French revolution and the subsequent dictatorship and empire, and all that that produced the French Revolution, and so on. Without one of these reasons, nothing could have happened. Therefore, all these reasons - billions of reasons - coincided in order to produce what was. And therefore, nothing was the exclusive cause of the event, and the event had to happen only because it had to happen. Millions of people, having renounced their human feelings and their minds, had to go to the East from the West and kill their own kind, just as several centuries ago crowds of people went from East to West, killing their own kind.

The actions of Napoleon and Alexander, on whose word it seemed that the event took place or not took place, were as little arbitrary as the action of every soldier who went on a campaign by lot or by recruitment. It could not be otherwise, because in order for the will of Napoleon and Alexander (those people on whom the event seemed to depend) to be fulfilled, the coincidence of innumerable circumstances was necessary, without one of which the event could not have taken place. It was necessary that millions of people in whose hands was real power, soldiers who fired, carried provisions and guns, it was necessary that they agreed to fulfill this will of individual and weak people and were led to this by countless complex, diverse reasons.

Fatalism in history is inevitable for explaining unreasonable phenomena (that is, those whose rationality we do not understand). The more we try to rationally explain these phenomena in history, the more unreasonable and incomprehensible they become for us.

Each person lives for himself, enjoys freedom to achieve his personal goals and feels with his whole being that he can now do or not do such and such an action; but as soon as he does it, so this action, committed at a certain moment in time, becomes irrevocable and becomes the property of history, in which it has not a free, but a predetermined significance.

There are two aspects of life in every person: personal life, which is all the more free, the more abstract its interests, and spontaneous, swarm life, where a person inevitably fulfills the laws prescribed to him.

A person consciously lives for himself, but serves as an unconscious tool for achieving historical, universal goals. A perfect deed is irrevocable, and its action, coinciding in time with millions of actions of other people, acquires historical significance. The higher a person stands on the social ladder, than with big people he is bound, the more power he has over other people, the more obvious is the predestination and inevitability of his every act.

"The heart of the king is in the hand of God."

The king is a slave of history.

History, that is, the unconscious, general, swarming life of mankind, uses every minute of the life of kings as a tool for its own purposes.

Napoleon, despite the fact that more than ever, now, in 1812, it seemed to him that it depended on him verser or not verser le sang de ses peuples [to shed or not to shed the blood of his peoples] (as he wrote in his last letter to him Alexander), never more than now was subject to those inevitable laws that forced him (acting in relation to himself, as it seemed to him, according to his own arbitrariness) to do for the common cause, for the sake of history, what had to be done.

The people of the West moved to the East in order to kill each other. And according to the law of the coincidence of causes, thousands of petty reasons for this movement and for the war coincided with this event: reproaches for non-observance of the continental system, and the Duke of Oldenburg, and the movement of troops to Prussia, undertaken (as it seemed to Napoleon) only to to achieve an armed peace, and the love and habit of the French emperor for war, which coincided with the disposition of his people, the fascination with the grandeur of preparations, and the costs of preparation, and the need to acquire such benefits that would pay for these costs, and intoxicated honors in Dresden, and diplomatic negotiations, which, in the opinion of contemporaries, were led with a sincere desire to achieve peace and which only hurt the vanity of both sides, and millions and millions of other reasons that were faked as an event that was about to happen, coincided with it.

When an apple is ripe and falls, why does it fall? Is it because it gravitates towards the earth, because the rod dries up, because it dries up in the sun, because it becomes heavier, because the wind shakes it, because the boy standing below wants to eat it?

Nothing is the reason. All this is only a coincidence of the conditions under which every vital, organic, spontaneous event takes place. And the botanist who finds that the apple falls down because the cellulose decomposes and the like will be just as right and just as wrong as that child standing below who says that the apple fell down because he wanted to eat. him and that he prayed for it. Just as right and wrong will be the one who says that Napoleon went to Moscow because he wanted it, and because he died because Alexander wanted him to die: how right and wrong will he who says that he collapsed into a million pounds the dug-out mountain fell because the last worker struck under it for the last time with a pick. In historical events, the so-called great men are labels that give names to the event, which, like labels, have the least connection with the event itself.

Each of their actions, which seems to them arbitrary for themselves, is in the historical sense involuntary, but is in connection with the entire course of history and is determined eternally.

On May 29, Napoleon left Dresden, where he stayed for three weeks, surrounded by a court made up of princes, dukes, kings, and even one emperor. Before leaving, Napoleon treated the princes, kings and the emperor who deserved it, scolded the kings and princes with whom he was not completely satisfied, presented his own, that is, pearls and diamonds taken from other kings, to the Empress of Austria and, tenderly embracing the Empress Marie-Louise , as his historian says, left her grieved by separation, which she - this Marie-Louise, who was considered his wife, despite the fact that another wife remained in Paris - seemed unable to endure. Despite the fact that diplomats still firmly believed in the possibility of peace and worked diligently towards this goal, despite the fact that Emperor Napoleon himself wrote a letter to Emperor Alexander, calling him Monsieur mon fr

The army moved from west to east, and variable gears carried him there. On June 10, he caught up with the army and spent the night in the Vilkovis forest, in an apartment prepared for him, on the estate of a Polish count.

The next day, Napoleon, having overtaken the army, drove up to the Neman in a carriage and, in order to inspect the area of the crossing, changed into a Polish uniform and drove ashore.

Seeing on the other side the Cossacks (les Cosaques) and the spreading steppes (les Steppes), in the middle of which was Moscou la ville sainte, [Moscow, the holy city,] the capital of that, similar to the Scythian, state, where Alexander the Great went, - Napoleon, unexpectedly for everyone and contrary to both strategic and diplomatic considerations, ordered an offensive, and the next day his troops began to cross the Neman.

On the 12th, early in the morning, he left the tent that had been pitched that day on the steep left bank of the Neman, and looked through the telescope at the streams of his troops emerging from the Vilkovissky forest, spilling over three bridges built on the Neman. The troops knew about the presence of the emperor, looked for him with their eyes, and when they found a figure in a frock coat and hat separated from the retinue on the mountain in front of the tent, they threw their hats up, shouted: “Vive l" Empereur! [Long live the emperor!] - and alone for others, without being exhausted, flowed out, all flowed out of the huge forest that had hidden them hitherto, and, upset, crossed over three bridges to the other side.

On fera du chemin cette fois-ci. Oh! quand il s "en m

On June 13, Napoleon was given a small thoroughbred Arabian horse, and he sat down and galloped to one of the bridges across the Neman, constantly deafened by enthusiastic cries, which he obviously endured only because it was impossible to forbid them to express their love for him with these cries. ; but these cries, accompanying him everywhere, weighed him down and distracted him from the military care that had seized him from the time he joined the army. He crossed one of the bridges that swayed on boats to the other side, turned sharply to the left and galloped towards Kovno, preceded by the enthusiastic guards chasseurs, who were dying of happiness, clearing the way for the troops galloping ahead of him. Having approached the wide river Viliya, he stopped near the Polish uhlan regiment, which stood on the bank.

Vivat! - the Poles shouted enthusiastically, upsetting the front and crushing each other in order to see him. Napoleon examined the river, got off his horse and sat down on a log lying on the bank. At a wordless sign, they gave him a trumpet, he put it on the back of a happy page that ran up and began to look at the other side. Then he went deeper into examining the sheet of the map spread out between the logs. Without raising his head, he said something, and two of his adjutants galloped towards the Polish lancers.

What? What did he say? - was heard in the ranks of the Polish lancers, when one adjutant galloped up to them.

It was ordered, having found a ford, to go to the other side. A Polish lancer colonel, a handsome old man, flushed and confused with excitement, asked the adjutant if he would be allowed to cross the river with his lancers without finding a ford. He, with obvious fear of rejection, like a boy who asks permission to mount a horse, asked to be allowed to swim across the river in the eyes of the emperor. The adjutant said that, probably, the emperor would not be dissatisfied with this excessive zeal.

As soon as the adjutant said this, an old mustachioed officer with a happy face and sparkling eyes, raising his saber, shouted: “Vivat! - and, commanding the lancers to follow him, he gave the spurs to the horse and galloped to the river. He viciously pushed the horse that hesitated under him and thumped into the water, heading deeper into the rapids of the current. Hundreds of lancers galloped after him. It was cold and eerie in the middle and in the rapids of the current. Lancers clung to each other, fell off their horses, some horses drowned, people drowned, the rest tried to swim, some on the saddle, some holding on to the mane. They tried to swim forward to the other side and, despite the fact that there was a crossing half a verst away, they were proud that they were swimming and drowning in this river under the gaze of a man sitting on a log and not even looking at what they were doing. When the returning adjutant, having chosen a convenient moment, allowed himself to draw the emperor's attention to the devotion of the Poles to his person, a small man in a gray frock coat got up and, calling Berthier to him, began to walk up and down the shore with him, giving him orders and occasionally looking with displeasure on the drowning lancers that entertained his attention.

For him, the conviction was not new that his presence at all ends of the world, from Africa to the steppes of Muscovy, equally amazes and plunges people into the madness of self-forgetfulness. He ordered a horse to be brought to him and rode to his camp.

About forty lancers drowned in the river, despite the boats sent to help. Most washed back to this shore. The colonel and several men swam across the river and with difficulty climbed to the other side. But as soon as they got out in a wet dress slapped on them, flowing in streams, they shouted: “Vivat!”, Enthusiastically looking at the place where Napoleon stood, but where he was no longer there, and at that moment considered themselves happy.

In the evening, Napoleon, between two orders - one to deliver prepared fake Russian banknotes for import to Russia as soon as possible, and the other to shoot a Saxon, in whose intercepted letter information about orders for the French army was found - made a third order - on the inclusion of a Polish colonel who threw himself needlessly into the river to the cohort of honor (L

Qnos vult perdere - dementat. [Whom wants to destroy - deprive the mind (lat.)]

Meanwhile, the Russian emperor had already been living in Vilna for more than a month, making reviews and maneuvers. Nothing was ready for the war, which everyone expected and in preparation for which the emperor had come from Petersburg. There was no general plan of action. The hesitations as to which plan, of all those proposed, should be adopted, only intensified after the emperor's month-long stay in the main apartment. In the three armies there was a separate commander-in-chief in each, but there was no common commander over all the armies, and the emperor did not assume this title.

The longer the emperor lived in Vilna, the less and less they prepared for war, tired of waiting for it. All the aspirations of the people surrounding the sovereign, it seemed, were aimed only at making the sovereign, while having a good time, forget about the upcoming war.

After many balls and holidays with the Polish magnates, with the courtiers and with the sovereign himself, in the month of June, one of the Polish adjutant generals of the sovereign had the idea to give dinner and a ball to the sovereign on behalf of his adjutant generals. This idea was welcomed by all. The Emperor agreed. The adjutant generals collected money by subscription. The person who could be most pleasing to the sovereign was invited to be the hostess of the ball. Count Benigsen, a landowner in the Vilna province, offered his country house for this holiday, and on June 13 a dinner, a ball, boating and fireworks were scheduled at Zakret, Count Benigsen's country house.

On the very day on which Napoleon gave the order to cross the Neman and his advanced troops, pushing back the Cossacks, crossed the Russian border, Alexander spent the evening at Benigsen's dacha - at a ball given by adjutant generals.

It was a cheerful, brilliant holiday; experts in the business said that so many beauties rarely gathered in one place. Countess Bezukhova, among other Russian ladies who came for the sovereign from St. Petersburg to Vilna, was at this ball, obscuring the sophisticated Polish ladies with her heavy, so-called Russian beauty. She was noticed, and the sovereign honored her with a dance.

Boris Drubetskoy, en gar

At twelve o'clock in the morning they were still dancing. Helen, who did not have a worthy gentleman, herself offered the mazurka to Boris. They sat in the third pair. Boris, coolly looking at Helen's shiny bare shoulders, protruding from a dark gauze dress with gold, talked about old acquaintances and at the same time, imperceptibly to himself and others, did not stop watching the sovereign for a second, who was in the same hall. The sovereign did not dance; he stood at the door and stopped one or the other with those kind words that he alone knew how to utter.

At the beginning of the mazurka, Boris saw that the adjutant general Balashev, one of the closest persons to the sovereign, approached him and stopped courtly close to the sovereign, who was talking to a Polish lady. After talking with the lady, the emperor looked inquiringly and, apparently realizing that Balashev did this only because there were important reasons for this, nodded slightly to the lady and turned to Balashev. Balashev had just begun to speak, as surprise was expressed on the sovereign's face. He took Balashev's arm and walked with him through the hall, unconsciously clearing for himself on both sides of the sazhens for three broad roads that stood aside in front of him. Boris noticed the agitated face of Arakcheev, while the sovereign went with Balashev. Arakcheev, looking frowningly at the sovereign and sniffing his red nose, moved out of the crowd, as if expecting the sovereign to turn to him. (Boris realized that Arakcheev was jealous of Balashev and was dissatisfied with the fact that some, obviously important, news was not transmitted to the sovereign through him.)

But the sovereign with Balashev passed, without noticing Arakcheev, through the exit door into the illuminated garden. Arakcheev, holding his sword and looking around angrily, walked twenty paces behind them.

As long as Boris continued to make the figures of the mazurka, he never ceased to be tormented by the thought of what kind of news Balashev brought and how to find out before others.

In the figure where he had to choose the ladies, whispering to Helen that he wanted to take Countess Pototskaya, who, it seems, went out onto the balcony, he, sliding his feet on the parquet, ran out the exit door into the garden and, noticing the sovereign entering with Balashev on the terrace , paused. The Emperor and Balashev were heading for the door. Boris, in a hurry, as if not having time to move away, respectfully pressed himself against the lintel and bent his head.

The sovereign, with the excitement of a personally offended person, finished the following words:

Enter Russia without declaring war. I will make peace only when not a single armed enemy remains on my land,” he said. As it seemed to Boris, it was pleasant for the sovereign to express these words: he was pleased with the form of expression of his thoughts, but was dissatisfied with the fact that Boris heard them.

So that no one knows anything! added the sovereign, frowning. Boris realized that this was referring to him, and, closing his eyes, tilted his head slightly. The emperor again entered the hall and stayed at the ball for about half an hour.

Boris was the first to learn the news of the crossing of the Neman by the French troops, and thanks to this he had the opportunity to show some important persons that much hidden from others is known to him, and through this he had the opportunity to rise higher in the opinion of these persons.

The unexpected news that the French had crossed the Neman was especially unexpected after a month of unfulfilled expectations, and at the ball! The emperor, in the first minute of receiving the news, under the influence of indignation and insult, found that, which later became famous, a saying that he himself liked and fully expressed his feelings. Returning home from the ball, at two in the morning the sovereign sent for Secretary Shishkov and ordered him to write an order to the troops and a rescript to Field Marshal Prince Saltykov, in which he certainly demanded that the words be placed that he would not reconcile until at least one an armed Frenchman will remain on Russian soil.

The next day the following letter was written to Napoleon.

Monsieur mon fr

(sign Alexandra.

["My lord brother! Yesterday it dawned on me that, despite the frankness with which I observed my obligations in relation to Your Imperial Majesty, Your troops crossed the Russian borders, and only now received a note from St. Petersburg, which Count Lauriston informs me about this invasion, that Your Majesty considers yourself in hostile relations with me since the time when Prince Kurakin demanded his passports. The reasons on which the Duke of Bassano based his refusal to issue these passports could never have led me to suppose that my ambassador's act was the occasion for the attack. And in fact, he had no order from me to do so, as he himself announced; and as soon as I found out about this, I immediately expressed my displeasure to Prince Kurakin, ordering him to fulfill the duties still entrusted to him. If Your Majesty is not disposed to shed the blood of our subjects because of such a misunderstanding, and if you agree to withdraw your troops from the Russian possessions, then I will ignore everything that has happened, and an agreement between us will be possible. Otherwise, I will be forced to repel an attack that was not initiated by anything on my part. Your Majesty, you still have the opportunity to save humanity from the scourge of a new war.

(signed) Alexander".]

On June 13, at two o'clock in the morning, the sovereign, having called Balashev to him and read his letter to Napoleon to him, ordered him to take this letter and personally hand it over to the French emperor. Sending Balashev, the sovereign again repeated to him the words that he would not reconcile until at least one armed enemy remained on Russian soil, and ordered certainly convey these words to Napoleon. The emperor did not write these words in a letter, because he felt with his tact that these words were inconvenient to convey at the moment when the last attempt at reconciliation was being made; but he certainly ordered Balashev to hand them over to Napoleon personally.

Leaving on the night of June 13-14, Balashev, accompanied by a trumpeter and two Cossacks, arrived at dawn in the village of Rykonty, at the French outposts on this side of the Neman. He was stopped by French cavalry sentries.

A French hussar non-commissioned officer, in a crimson uniform and a shaggy hat, shouted at Balashev, who was approaching, ordering him to stop. Balashev did not immediately stop, but continued to move along the road at a pace.

The non-commissioned officer, frowning and muttering some kind of curse, advanced with his horse's chest on Balashev, took up his saber and rudely shouted at the Russian general, asking him: is he deaf that he does not hear what they say to him. Balashev named himself. The non-commissioned officer sent a soldier to the officer.

Paying no attention to Balashev, the non-commissioned officer began to talk with his comrades about his regimental affairs and did not look at the Russian general.

It was unusually strange for Balashev, after being close to the highest power and might, after a conversation three hours ago with the sovereign and generally accustomed to honors in his service, to see here, on Russian soil, this hostile and, most importantly, disrespectful attitude of brute force towards himself.

The sun was just beginning to rise from behind the clouds; the air was fresh and dewy. On the way, the herd was driven out of the village. In the fields, one by one, like bubbles in water, the larks burst up with a chuckle.

Balashev looked around him, waiting for the arrival of an officer from the village. The Russian Cossacks, and the trumpeter, and the French hussars silently looked at each other from time to time.

A French hussar colonel, apparently just out of bed, rode out of the village on a handsome, well-fed gray horse, accompanied by two hussars. On the officer, on the soldiers and on their horses there was a look of contentment and panache.

This was the first time of the campaign, when the troops were still in good order, almost equal to a lookout, peaceful activity, only with a touch of elegant militancy in clothes and with a moral touch of that fun and enterprise that always accompany the beginning of campaigns.

The French colonel could hardly hold back a yawn, but he was courteous and, apparently, understood the full significance of Balashev. He led him past his soldiers by the chain and informed him that his desire to be presented to the emperor would probably be immediately fulfilled, since the imperial apartment, as far as he knew, was not far away.

They passed the village of Rykonty, past the French hussar hitching posts, sentries and soldiers saluting their colonel and examining the Russian uniform with curiosity, and drove to the other side of the village. According to the colonel, the head of the division was two kilometers away, who would receive Balashev and escort him to his destination.

The sun had already risen and shone cheerfully on the bright greenery.

They had just left behind the inn on the mountain, when a group of horsemen appeared from under the mountain towards them, in front of which, on a black horse with a harness shining in the sun, rode a tall man in a hat with feathers and black hair curled to the shoulders, in a red mantle and with long legs protruding forward, as the French ride. This man galloped towards Balashev, shining and fluttering in the bright June sun with his feathers, stones and gold galloons.

Balashev was already at a distance of two horses from a rider galloping towards him with a solemnly theatrical face in bracelets, feathers, necklaces and gold, when Yulner, a French colonel, respectfully whispered: "Le roi de Naples." [King of Naples.] Indeed, it was Murat, now called the Neapolitan king. Although it was completely incomprehensible why he was a Neapolitan king, he was called that, and he himself was convinced of this and therefore had a more solemn and important air than before. He was so sure that he was really the Neapolitan king that, on the eve of his departure from Naples, during his walk with his wife through the streets of Naples, several Italians shouted to him: “Viva il re!”, [Long live the king! (Italian)] he turned to his wife with a sad smile and said: “Les malheureux, ils ne savent pas que je les quitte demain! [Unfortunate, they don't know that I'm leaving them tomorrow!]

But despite the fact that he firmly believed that he was a Neapolitan king, and that he regretted the sorrow of his subjects who were leaving him, in recent times, after he was ordered to enter the service again, and especially after a meeting with Napoleon in Danzig, when his august brother-in-law said to him: “Je vous ai fait Roi pour r

Seeing the Russian general, he, royally, solemnly, threw back his head with his hair curled to his shoulders and looked inquiringly at the French colonel. The colonel respectfully conveyed to His Majesty the meaning of Balashev, whose name he could not pronounce.

De Balmacheve! - said the king (with his determination overcoming the difficulty presented to the colonel), - charm

Sire, - answered Balashev. - l "Empereur mon ma Votre Majest, [The Sovereign Emperor of Russia does not want her, as your Majesty deign to see ... Your Majesty.] with the inevitable affectation of increasing the title, referring to a person for whom this title is still news.

Murat's face shone with stupid contentment while he listened to monsieur de Balachoff. But royaut

So you don't think Emperor Alexander was the instigator? he said unexpectedly with a good-natured stupid smile.

Balashev said why he really believed that Napoleon was the instigator of the war.

Eh, mon cher g

Balashev rode on, according to Murat, expecting to be presented to Napoleon himself very soon. But instead of an early meeting with Napoleon, sentries of the Davout infantry corps again detained him at the next village, as well as in the forward chain, and the adjutant of the corps commander called him to the village to Marshal Davout.

Davout was Arakcheev of Emperor Napoleon - Arakcheev is not a coward, but just as serviceable, cruel and incapable of expressing his devotion except by cruelty.

The mechanism of the state organism needs these people, just as wolves are needed in the organism of nature, and they always exist, always appear and hold on, no matter how incongruous their presence and proximity to the head of government may seem. Only this necessity can explain how the cruel, who personally tore out the mustaches of the grenadiers and who, due to his weakness, could not endure the danger, the uneducated, uncourt Arakcheev, could remain in such strength with the knightly noble and gentle character of Alexander.

Balashev found Marshal Davout in the barn of a peasant's hut, sitting on a barrel and busy written works(he checked the scores). The adjutant stood beside him. It was possible to find a better place, but Marshal Davout was one of those people who purposely put themselves in the most gloomy conditions of life in order to have the right to be gloomy. For the same reason they are always hastily and stubbornly busy. "Where is there to think about the happy side of human life, when, you see, I'm sitting on a barrel in a dirty shed and working," his expression said. The main pleasure and need of these people is that, having met the revival of life, to throw this revival into the eyes of my gloomy, stubborn activity. Davout gave himself this pleasure when Balashev was brought in. He went even deeper into his work when the Russian general entered, and, looking through his glasses at the lively face of Balashev, impressed by the beautiful morning and the conversation with Murat, did not get up, did not even move, but frowned even more and grinned maliciously.

Noticing the unpleasant impression made by this method on Balashev's face, Davout raised his head and coldly asked what he needed.

Assuming that such a reception could be made to him only because Davout did not know that he was the adjutant general of Emperor Alexander and even his representative before Napoleon, Balashev hastened to announce his rank and appointment. Contrary to his expectations, Davout, after listening to Balashev, became even more severe and rude.

Where is your package? - he said. - Donnez-le moi, ije l "enverrai

Balashev said that he had an order to personally deliver the package to the emperor himself.

The orders of your emperor are carried out in your army, but here, - said Davout, - you must do what you are told.

And as if in order to make the Russian general even more aware of his dependence on brute force, Davout sent an adjutant for the duty officer.

Balashev took out a package that concluded the letter of the sovereign, and put it on the table (a table consisting of a door on which torn hinges stuck out, laid on two barrels). Davout took the envelope and read the inscription.

You have the right to show or not to show me respect,” said Balashev. - But let me tell you that I have the honor to bear the rank of Adjutant General of His Majesty ...

Davout looked at him in silence, and some excitement and embarrassment, expressed on Balashev's face, apparently gave him pleasure.

You will be given your due,” he said, and putting the envelope in his pocket, he left the barn.

A minute later, the adjutant of the marshal, Mr. de Castres, entered and led Balashev into the room prepared for him.

Balashev dined that day with the marshal in the same shed, on the same board on barrels.

The next day, Davout left early in the morning and, having invited Balashev to his place, told him impressively that he asked him to stay here, to move along with the luggage, if they had orders to do so, and not to talk to anyone except Monsieur de Castro.

After four days of solitude, boredom, a consciousness of subservience and insignificance, especially palpable after the environment of power in which he had so recently found himself, after several crossings together with the marshal's luggage, with French troops occupying the entire area, Balashev was brought to Vilna, now occupied by the French , to the same outpost on which he left four days ago.

The next day, the imperial chamberlain, monsieur de Turenne, came to Balashev and conveyed to him the desire of Emperor Napoleon to honor him with an audience.

Four days ago, guards from the Preobrazhensky Regiment stood at the house to which Balashev was brought, but now there were two French grenadiers in blue uniforms open on their chests and in shaggy hats, a convoy of hussars and lancers and a brilliant retinue of adjutants, pages and generals, waiting for the exit Napoleon around the riding horse standing at the porch and his mameluke Rustav. Napoleon received Balashev in the same house in Vilva from which Alexander sent him.

Despite Balashev's habit of court solemnity, the luxury and splendor of the court of Emperor Napoleon struck him.

Count Turen led him into a large waiting room, where many generals, chamberlains and Polish magnates were waiting, many of whom Balashev had seen at the court of the Russian emperor. Duroc said that Emperor Napoleon would receive the Russian general before his walk.

After several minutes of waiting, the chamberlain on duty went out into the large reception room and, bowing politely to Balashev, invited him to follow him.

Balashev entered a small reception room, from which there was one door leading to an office, the same office from which the Russian emperor sent him. Balashev stood for two minutes, waiting. Hasty footsteps sounded outside the door. Both halves of the door quickly opened, the chamberlain who had opened it respectfully stopped, waiting, everything was quiet, and other, firm, resolute steps sounded from the office: it was Napoleon. He has just finished his riding toilet. He was in a blue uniform, open over a white waistcoat, descending on a round stomach, in white leggings, tight-fitting fat thighs of short legs, and in over the knee boots. His short hair, obviously, had just been combed, but one strand of hair went down over the middle of his wide forehead. His plump white neck protruded sharply from behind the black collar of his uniform; he smelled of cologne. On his youthful full face with a protruding chin was an expression of gracious and majestic imperial greeting.

He went out, trembling rapidly at every step, and throwing back his head a little. His whole plump, short figure, with broad, thick shoulders and an involuntarily protruding belly and chest, had that representative, portly appearance that people of forty years of age who live in the hall have. In addition, it was evident that he was in the best mood that day.

He nodded his head in response to Balashev's low and respectful bow, and, going up to him, immediately began to speak like a man who values every minute of his time and does not condescend to prepare his speeches, but is confident that he will always say well and what to say.

Hello general! - he said. - I received the letter from Emperor Alexander, which you delivered, and I am very glad to see you. - He looked into Balashev's face with his large eyes and immediately began to look ahead past him.

It was obvious that he was not at all interested in the personality of Balashev. It was evident that only what was happening in his soul, was of interest to him. Everything that was outside of him did not matter to him, because everything in the world, as it seemed to him, depended only on his will.

I do not want and did not want war, he said, but I was forced into it. Me and Now(he said this word with emphasis) ready to accept any explanation you can give me. - And he clearly and briefly began to state the reasons for his displeasure against the Russian government.

Judging by the moderately calm and friendly tone with which the French emperor spoke, Balashev was firmly convinced that he wanted peace and intended to enter into negotiations.

Sire! L "Empereur, mon ma

- More No, - put in Napoleon and, as if afraid to give in to his feelings, frowned and slightly nodded his head, thus letting Balashev feel that he could continue.

Having expressed everything that he was ordered, Balashev said that Emperor Alexander wanted peace, but would not start negotiations except on the condition that ... Here Balashev hesitated: he remembered those words that Emperor Alexander did not write in a letter, but which he certainly ordered Saltykov to insert them into the rescript and which he ordered Balashev to hand over to Napoleon. Balashev remembered these words: “until not a single armed enemy remains on Russian soil,” but some kind of complex feeling held him back. He couldn't say those words even though he wanted to. He hesitated and said: on the condition that the French troops retreat beyond the Neman.

Napoleon noticed Balashev's embarrassment when uttering his last words; his face trembled, the left calf of his leg began to tremble measuredly. Without moving from his seat, he began to speak in a voice higher and more hasty than before. During the subsequent speech, Balashev, more than once lowering his eyes, involuntarily observed the trembling of the calf in Napoleon's left leg, which intensified the more he raised his voice.

I wish peace no less than Emperor Alexander,” he began. - Haven't I been doing everything for eighteen months to get it? I've been waiting eighteen months for an explanation. But in order to start negotiations, what is required of me? he said, frowning and making an energetic questioning gesture with his small white and plump hand.

The retreat of the troops for the Neman, sovereign, - said Balashev.

For the Neman? repeated Napoleon. - So now you want to retreat behind the Neman - only for the Neman? repeated Napoleon, looking directly at Balashev.

Balashev bowed his head respectfully.

Instead of demanding four months ago to retreat from Numberania, now they demanded to retreat only beyond the Neman. Napoleon quickly turned and began to pace the room.

You say that I am required to retreat beyond the Neman in order to start negotiations; but two months ago they demanded of me to retreat across the Oder and the Vistula in exactly the same way, and in spite of this, you agree to negotiate.

He silently walked from one corner of the room to the other and again stopped in front of Balashev. His face seemed to be petrified in its stern expression, and his left leg trembled even faster than before. Napoleon knew this trembling of his left calf. La vibration de mon mollet gauche est un grand signe chez moi, [The trembling of my left calf is a great sign,] he later said.

Such proposals as to clear the Oder and the Vistula can be made to the Prince of Baden, and not to me, - quite unexpectedly for himself, Napoleon almost cried out. - If you gave me Petersburg and Moscow, I would not accept these conditions. Are you saying I started a war? And who came to the army first? - Emperor Alexander, not me. And you offer me negotiations when I have spent millions, while you are in alliance with England and when your position is bad - you offer me negotiations! And what is the purpose of your alliance with England? What did she give you? - he said hastily, obviously already directing his speech not in order to express the benefits of concluding peace and discuss its possibility, but only in order to prove both his rightness and his strength, and to prove the wrongness and mistakes of Alexander.

The introduction of his speech was made, obviously, to show the advantage of his position and to show that, despite the fact, he accepts the opening of negotiations. But he had already begun to speak, and the more he spoke, the less able he was to control his speech.

The whole purpose of his speech now, obviously, was only to exalt himself and insult Alexander, that is, to do exactly the very thing that he least of all wanted at the beginning of the meeting.

They say you made peace with the Turks?

Balashev nodded his head affirmatively.

The world is concluded ... - he began. But Napoleon did not let him speak. He evidently needed to speak on his own, alone, and he continued to speak with that eloquence and intemperance of irritability to which spoiled people are so prone.

Yes, I know you made peace with the Turks without getting Moldavia and Wallachia. And I would give your sovereign these provinces just as I gave him Finland. Yes, - he continued, - I promised and would give Moldavia and Wallachia to Emperor Alexander, and now he will not have these beautiful provinces. He could, however, have annexed them to his empire, and in one reign he would have extended Russia from the Gulf of Bothnia to the mouths of the Danube. Catherine the Great could not have done more,” said Napoleon, flaring up more and more, walking around the room and repeating to Balashev almost the same words that he had said to Alexander himself in Tilsit. - Tout cela il l "aurait d

Quel beau r aurait pu tre celui de l "Empereur Alexandre! [He would owe all this to my friendship ... Oh, what a wonderful reign, what a wonderful reign! Oh, what a wonderful reign could be the reign of Emperor Alexander!]

He glanced at Balashev with regret, and just as Balashev wanted to notice something, he again hastily interrupted him.

What could he want and look for that he would not find in my friendship? .. - said Napoleon, shrugging his shoulders in bewilderment. - No, he found it best to surround himself with my enemies, and with whom? he continued. - He called the Steins, Armfelds, Wintzingerode, Benigsen, Stein - a traitor expelled from his fatherland, Armfeld - a libertine and intriguer, Wintzingerode - a fugitive subject of France, Benigsen is somewhat more military than others, but still incapable, who does nothing knew how to do in 1807 and which should have aroused terrible memories in Emperor Alexander ... Suppose, if they were capable, we could use them, ”continued Napoleon, barely managing to keep up with the incessantly arising considerations showing him his rightness or strength (which in his concept it was the same) - but even that is not: they are not suitable either for war or for peace. Barclay, they say, is more efficient than all of them; but I won't say that, judging by his first movements. What are they doing? What are all these courtiers doing! Pfuel proposes, Armfeld argues, Bennigsen considers, and Barclay, called to act, does not know what to decide on, and time passes. One Bagration is a military man. He is stupid, but he has experience, eye and determination ... And what role does your young sovereign play in this ugly crowd. They compromise him and blame everything that happens on him. Un souverain ne doit

It's been a week since the campaign started and you haven't been able to defend Vilna. You are cut in two and driven out of the Polish provinces. Your army murmurs...

On the contrary, Your Majesty, - said Balashev, who barely had time to remember what was said to him, and hardly followed this firework of words, - the troops are burning with desire ...

I know everything,” Napoleon interrupted him, “I know everything, and I know the number of your battalions as surely as mine. You do not have two hundred thousand troops, but I have three times as many. I give you my word of honor, - said Napoleon, forgetting that his word of honor could not matter in any way, - I give you ma parole d "honneur que j" ai cinq cent trente mille hommes de ce c

To each of Napoleon's phrases, Balashev wanted and had something to object to; he incessantly made the gesture of a man who wanted to say something, but Napoleon interrupted him. For example, about the madness of the Swedes, Balashev wanted to say that Sweden is an island when Russia is for it; but Napoleon cried out angrily to drown out his voice. Napoleon was in that state of irritation in which one must speak, speak, and speak, only in order to prove his justice to himself. It became hard for Balashev: he, as an ambassador, was afraid to drop his dignity and felt the need to object; but, like a man, he shrunk morally before forgetting the unreasonable anger in which, obviously, Napoleon was. He knew that all the words now spoken by Napoleon were of no importance, that he himself, when he came to his senses, would be ashamed of them. Balashev stood with lowered eyes, looking at Napoleon's moving thick legs, and tried to avoid his gaze.

What are these allies of yours to me? Napoleon said. - My allies are the Poles: there are eighty thousand of them, they fight like lions. And there will be two hundred thousand.

And, probably even more indignant that, having said this, he had told an obvious lie and that Balashev, in the same pose of submission to his fate, silently stood in front of him, he abruptly turned back, went up to Balashev’s very face and, making energetic and quick gestures with his white hands, almost shouted:

Know that if you shake Prussia against me, know that I will erase it from the map of Europe,” he said with a pale face distorted by anger, striking with an energetic gesture of one small hand on the other. - Yes, I will throw you over the Dvina, over the Dnieper and restore against you that barrier that Europe was criminal and blind, which allowed it to be destroyed. Yes, that’s what will happen to you, that’s what you won by moving away from me, ”he said and silently walked several times around the room, shaking his thick shoulders. He put a snuff-box in his waistcoat pocket, took it out again, put it to his nose several times, and stopped in front of Balashev. He paused, looked mockingly straight into Balashev's eyes, and said in a low voice: "Et cependant quel beau r aurait pu avoir votre matre!

Balashev, feeling the need to object, said that things were not presented in such a gloomy way from the Russian side. Napoleon was silent, continuing to look at him mockingly and, obviously, not listening to him. Balashev said that in Russia they expect all the best from the war. Napoleon condescendingly nodded his head, as if to say: "I know it is your duty to say so, but you yourself do not believe in it, you are convinced by me."

At the end of Balashev's speech, Napoleon again took out his snuffbox, sniffed from it and, as a signal, thumped the floor twice with his foot. The door opened; a respectfully arching chamberlain handed the emperor a hat and gloves, another handed a handkerchief. Napoleon, not looking at them, turned to Balashev.

Assure Emperor Alexander on my behalf, - said the ots, taking his hat, - that I am devoted to him as before: I know him completely and highly appreciate his high qualities. Je ne vous retiens plus, g

After all that Napoleon had said to him, after these outbursts of anger, and after the last dry words:

"Je ne vous retiens plus, g

At dinner were Bessières, Caulaincourt and Berthier. Napoleon met Balashev with a cheerful and affectionate air. Not only was there no expression of shyness in him or reproach to himself for his morning outburst, but, on the contrary, he tried to encourage Balashev. It was evident that for a long time already for Napoleon there was no possibility of error in his conviction, and that in his concept everything that he did was good, not because it converged with the idea of \u200b\u200bwhat is good and bad, but because he did This.

The emperor was very cheerful after his horseback ride through Vilna, in which crowds of people enthusiastically met and saw him off. In all the windows of the streets along which he passed, carpets, banners, his monograms were displayed, and Polish ladies, greeting him, waved their handkerchiefs at him.

At dinner, having seated Balashev next to him, he treated him not only affectionately, but treated him as if he considered Balashev among his courtiers, among those people who sympathized with his plans and should have rejoiced at his successes. Among other things, he spoke about Moscow and began to ask Balashev about the Russian capital, not only as an inquisitive traveler asks about a new place he intends to visit, but as if with the conviction that Balashev, as a Russian, should be flattered by this curiosity.

How many inhabitants in Moscow, how many houses? Is it true that Moscou is called Moscou la sainte? [saint?] How many churches are there in Moscou? he asked.

And in response that there were more than two hundred churches, he said:

Why such an abyss of churches?

The Russians are very devout, Balashev answered.

However, a large number of monasteries and churches is always a sign of the backwardness of the people, - said Napoleon, looking back at Caulaincourt for an assessment of this judgment.

Balashev respectfully allowed himself to disagree with the opinion of the French emperor.

Every country has its own customs, he said.

But nowhere else in Europe is there anything like it,” said Napoleon.

I apologize to Your Majesty, - said Balashev, - besides Russia, there is also Spain, where there are also many churches and monasteries.

This answer by Balashev, hinting at the recent defeat of the French in Spain, was later highly appreciated, according to Balashev's stories, at the court of Emperor Alexander and very little appreciated now, at Napoleon's dinner, and passed unnoticed.

From the indifferent and perplexed faces of the gentlemen of the marshals, it was clear that they were perplexed, what was the witticism, which was hinted at by Balashev's intonation. “If she was, then we did not understand her or she is not witty at all,” said the facial expressions of the marshals. This answer was so little appreciated that Napoleon did not even notice it resolutely and naively asked Balashev about which cities there was a direct road to Moscow from here. Balashev, who was on his guard all the time of dinner, answered that comme tout chemin m Poltava, chosen by Charles XII, said Balashev, involuntarily flushing with pleasure at the success of this answer. Before Balashev had time to say the last words: "Poltawa", Caulaincourt was already talking about the inconvenience of the road from Petersburg to Moscow and about his Petersburg memories.

After dinner we went to drink coffee in Napoleon's study, which four days earlier had been the study of Emperor Alexander. Napoleon sat down, touching the coffee in a Sevres cup, and pointed to a chair meanly to Balashev.

There is a certain post-dinner mood in a person, which, stronger than any reasonable reasons, makes a person be pleased with himself and consider everyone his friends. Napoleon was in this location. It seemed to him that he was surrounded by people who adored him. He was convinced that Balashev, after his dinner, was his friend and admirer. Napoleon turned to him with a pleasant and slightly mocking smile.

This is the same room, I was told, in which Emperor Alexander lived. Strange, isn't it, General? - he said, obviously not doubting that this appeal could not but be pleasant to his interlocutor, since it proved the superiority of him, Napoleon, over Alexander.

Balashev could not answer this and silently bowed his head.

Yes, in this room, four days ago, Winzingerode and Stein conferred,” Napoleon continued with the same mocking, confident smile. “What I cannot understand,” he said, “is that Emperor Alexander brought all my personal enemies closer to him. I do not understand this. Did he think that I could do the same? - he turned to Balashev with a question, and, obviously, this memory pushed him back into that trail of morning anger, which was still fresh in him.

And let him know that I will do it,” said Napoleon, getting up and pushing his cup away with his hand. - I will expel from Germany all his relatives, Wirtemberg, Baden, Weimar ... yes, I will expel them. Let him prepare a refuge for them in Russia!

Balashev bowed his head, showing with his appearance that he would like to take his leave and is listening only because he cannot but listen to what he is told. Napoleon did not notice this expression; he addressed Balashev not as an ambassador of his enemy, but as a man who was now completely devoted to him and should rejoice at the humiliation of his former master.

And why did Emperor Alexander take command of the troops? What is it for? War is my trade, and his business is to reign, not to command troops. Why did he take on such responsibility?

Napoleon again took the snuffbox, silently walked several times around the room and suddenly unexpectedly approached Balashev and with a slight smile so confidently, quickly, simply, as if he was doing some business not only important, but also pleasant for Balashev, raised his hand to his face. a forty-year-old Russian general and, taking him by the ear, tugged slightly, smiling only with his lips.

Avoir l "oreille tir

Eh bien, vous ne dites rien, admirateur et courtisan de l "Empereur Alexandre? [Well, why don't you say anything, adorer and courtier of Emperor Alexander?] - he said, as if it was funny to be in his presence someone any courtisan and admirateur [court and admirer], except for him, Napoleon.

Are the horses ready for the general? he added, bowing his head slightly in response to Balashev's bow.

Give him mine, he has a long way to go...

The letter brought by Balashev was Napoleon's last letter to Alexander. All the details of the conversation were transferred to the Russian emperor, and the war began.

After his meeting in Moscow with Pierre, Prince Andrei went to Petersburg on business, as he told his relatives, but, in essence, in order to meet there Prince Anatole Kuragin, whom he considered it necessary to meet. Kuragin, whom he inquired about when he arrived in Petersburg, was no longer there. Pierre let his brother-in-law know that Prince Andrei was coming for him. Anatole Kuragin immediately received an appointment from the Minister of War and left for the Moldavian army. At the same time, in St. Petersburg, Prince Andrei met Kutuzov, his former general, always disposed towards him, and Kutuzov invited him to go with him to the Moldavian army, where the old general was appointed commander in chief. Prince Andrei, having received an appointment to be at the headquarters of the main apartment, left for Turkey.

Prince Andrei considered it inconvenient to write to Kuragin and summon him. Without giving a new reason for a duel, Prince Andrei considered the challenge on his part compromising Countess Rostov, and therefore he sought a personal meeting with Kuragin, in which he intended to find a new reason for a duel. But in the Turkish army, he also failed to meet Kuragin, who returned to Russia shortly after the arrival of Prince Andrei in the Turkish army. IN new country and in the new conditions of life, Prince Andrei began to live easier. After the betrayal of his bride, who struck him the more, the more diligently he concealed from everyone the effect made on him, the conditions of life in which he was happy were difficult for him, and the freedom and independence that he so cherished before were even more difficult. He not only did not think about those former thoughts that first came to him, looking at the sky on the field of Austerlitz, which he liked to develop with Pierre and which filled his solitude in Bogucharov, and then in Switzerland and Rome; but he was even afraid to recall these thoughts, which opened up endless and bright horizons. He was now interested only in the most immediate, not connected with the former, practical interests, which he seized on with the greater greed, than the former ones were hidden from him. It was as if that endless receding vault of the sky that had previously stood above him suddenly turned into a low, definite vault that crushed him, in which everything was clear, but nothing was eternal and mysterious.

Of the activities presented to him, military service was the simplest and most familiar to him. As a general on duty at Kutuzov's headquarters, he stubbornly and diligently went about his business, surprising Kutuzov with his willingness to work and accuracy. Not finding Kuragin in Turkey, Prince Andrei did not consider it necessary to gallop after him again to Russia; but for all that, he knew that, no matter how much time passed, he could not, having met Kuragin, despite all the contempt that he had for him, despite all the proofs that he made to himself, that he should not humiliate himself before a collision with him, he knew that, having met him, he could not help calling him, just as a hungry man could not help throwing himself at food. And this awareness that the insult had not yet been vented, that the anger had not been poured out, but lay on the heart, poisoned the artificial calm that Prince Andrei arranged for himself in Turkey in the form of preoccupied, troublesome and somewhat ambitious and vain activity.

In the 12th year, when the news of the war with Napoleon reached Bukaresht (where Kutuzov lived for two months, spending days and nights at his wall), Prince Andrei asked Kutuzov to be transferred to the Western Army. Kutuzov, who was already tired of Bolkonsky with his activities, which served him as a reproach for idleness, Kutuzov very willingly let him go and gave him an assignment to Barclay de Tolly.

Before leaving for the army, which was in the Drissa camp in May, Prince Andrei drove into the Bald Mountains, which were on his very road, being three versts from the Smolensk highway. The last three years and the life of Prince Andrei were so many upheavals, he changed his mind, re-felt, re-saw so much (he traveled both west and east), that he was strangely and unexpectedly struck at the entrance to the Bald Mountains by everything exactly the same, to the smallest detail, - exactly the same course of life. He, as in an enchanted, sleeping castle, drove into the alley and into the stone gates of the Lysogorsky house. The same sedateness, the same purity, the same silence were in this house, the same furniture, the same walls, the same sounds, the same smell and those same timid faces, only somewhat older. Princess Marya was still the same timid, ugly, aging girl, in fear and eternal moral suffering, living the best years of her life without benefit and joy. Bourienne was the same joyfully enjoying every minute of her life and filled with the most joyful hopes for herself, self-satisfied, coquettish girl. She only became more confident, as it seemed to Prince Andrei. The teacher Dessalles, brought by him from Switzerland, was dressed in a frock coat of Russian cut, distorting his language, spoke Russian with the servants, but he was still the same limitedly intelligent, educated, virtuous and pedantic teacher. The old prince changed physically only by the fact that one missing tooth became noticeable on the side of his mouth; morally, he was still the same as before, only with even greater anger and distrust of the reality of what was happening in the world. Only Nikolushka grew up, changed, flushed, overgrown with curly dark hair and, without knowing it, laughing and having fun, lifted the upper lip of his pretty mouth in the same way as the deceased little princess lifted it. He alone did not obey the law of immutability in this enchanted, sleeping castle. But although outwardly everything remained the same, the internal relations of all these persons had changed since Prince Andrei had not seen them. The members of the family were divided into two camps, alien and hostile to each other, which now converged only in his presence - for him changing their usual way of life. To one belonged the old prince, m-lle Bourienne and the architect, to the other - Princess Marya, Dessalles, Nikolushka and all the nannies and mothers.

During his stay in the Bald Mountains, everyone at home dined together, but everyone was embarrassed, and Prince Andrei felt that he was a guest for whom they made an exception, that he embarrassed everyone with his presence. During dinner on the first day, Prince Andrei, involuntarily sensing this, was silent, and the old prince, noticing the unnaturalness of his condition, also sullenly fell silent and now after dinner he went to his room. When in the evening Prince Andrei came to him and, trying to stir him up, began to tell him about the campaign of the young Count Kamensky, the old prince unexpectedly began a conversation with him about Princess Mary, condemning her for her superstition, for her dislike for m lle Bourienne, who, according to him, there was one truly devoted to him.

The old prince said that if he was ill, it was only from Princess Marya; that she deliberately torments and irritates him; that she spoils the little prince Nikolai with mischief and stupid speeches. The old prince knew very well that he was torturing his daughter, that her life was very hard, but he also knew that he could not help but torment her and that she deserved it. “Why does Prince Andrei, who sees this, tell me nothing about my sister? thought the old prince. - Why does he think that I am a villain or an old fool, for no reason moved away from my daughter and brought a Frenchwoman closer to me? He does not understand, and therefore it is necessary to explain to him, it is necessary that he listen, ”thought the old prince. And he began to explain the reasons why he could not bear the stupid nature of his daughter.

If you ask me, - said Prince Andrei, without looking at his father (for the first time in his life he condemned his father), - I did not want to talk; but if you ask me, I will tell you frankly my opinion about all this. If there are misunderstandings and discord between you and Masha, then I can’t blame her in any way - I know how much she loves and respects you. If you ask me, - Prince Andrei continued, getting annoyed, because he was always ready for irritation lately, - then I can say one thing: if there are misunderstandings, then the cause of them is an insignificant woman who should not have been a friend of her sister .

The old man at first looked at his son with fixed eyes and unnaturally revealed with a smile a new lack of a tooth, to which Prince Andrei could not get used.

What kind of girlfriend, dove? A? Already talked! A?

Father, I didn’t want to be a judge, ”said Prince Andrei in a bilious and harsh tone,“ but you called me, and I said and I will always say that Princess Mary is not to blame, but to blame ... this Frenchwoman is to blame ...

And he awarded! .. he awarded! .. - said the old man in a low voice and, as it seemed to Prince Andrei, with embarrassment, but then he suddenly jumped up and shouted: - Get out, get out! So that your spirit is not here! ..

Prince Andrei wanted to leave immediately, but Princess Mary begged to stay another day. On this day, Prince Andrei did not see his father, who did not go out and did not let anyone in, except m lle Bourienne and Tikhon, and asked several times if his son had left. The next day, before leaving, Prince Andrei went to take his son's half. A healthy, curly-haired boy sat on his lap. Prince Andrei began to tell him the tale of Bluebeard, but, without finishing it, he thought. He was not thinking of this pretty boy-son while he held him on his lap, but was thinking of himself. He searched with horror and did not find in himself either repentance that he had irritated his father, or regret that he (in a quarrel for the first time in his life) was leaving him. The main thing for him was that he was looking for and did not find that former tenderness for his son, which he hoped to arouse in himself by caressing the boy and placing him on his knees.

Well, tell me, - said the son. Prince Andrei, without answering him, removed him from the columns and left the room.

As soon as Prince Andrei left his daily activities, especially as soon as he entered the former conditions of life, in which he was even when he was happy, the melancholy of life seized him with the same force, and he hurried to quickly get away from these memories and find some business soon.

You are going decisively, Andr

Thank God that I can go, - said Prince Andrei, - I am very sorry that you cannot.

Why are you saying this! - said Princess Mary. - Why are you saying this now, when you are going to this terrible war and he is so old! M-lle Bourienne said that he asked about you ... - As soon as she started talking about it, her lips trembled and tears dripped. Prince Andrei turned away from her and began to pace the room.

Oh my god! My God! - he said. - And how do you think what and who - what a nonentity can be the cause of people's misfortune! he said with malice, which frightened Princess Mary.

She realized that, speaking of people whom he called insignificance, he meant not only m lle Bourienne, who made his misfortune, but also the person who ruined his happiness.

If I were a woman, I would do it, Marie. This is the virtue of a woman. But a man should not and cannot forget and forgive,” he said, and although he had not thought about Kuragin until that moment, all the unexpressed malice suddenly rose in his heart. “If Princess Mary is already persuading me to forgive, then it means that I should have been punished for a long time,” he thought. And, no longer answering Princess Marya, he now began to think about that joyful, angry moment when he would meet Kuragin, who (he knew) was in the army.

Princess Mary begged her brother to wait another day, saying that she knew how unhappy her father would be if Andrei left without reconciling with him; but Prince Andrei answered that he would probably soon come again from the army, that he would certainly write to his father, and that now the longer he stayed, the more this dissension would be aggravated.

“So it should be! - thought Prince Andrei, leaving the alley of the Lysogorsk house. - She, a miserable innocent creature, remains to be eaten by an old man who has gone out of his mind. The old man feels that he is guilty, but he cannot change himself. My boy is growing and enjoying a life in which he will be the same as everyone else, deceived or deceiving. I'm going to the army, why? - I don’t know myself, and I want to meet the person whom I despise in order to give him the opportunity to kill me and laugh at me! And before there were all the same conditions of life, but before they all knitted together, and now everything crumbled. Some meaningless phenomena, without any connection, one after another presented themselves to Prince Andrei.

Prince Andrei arrived at the main army quarters at the end of June. The troops of the first army, the one with which the sovereign was located, were located in a fortified camp near Drissa; the troops of the second army retreated, seeking to join the first army, from which - as they said - they were cut off by a large force of the French. Everyone was dissatisfied with the general course of military affairs in the Russian army; but no one thought about the danger of an invasion of the Russian provinces, no one even imagined that the war could be transferred further than the western Polish provinces.

Prince Andrei found Barclay de Tolly, to whom he was assigned, on the banks of the Drissa. Since there was not a single large village or town in the vicinity of the camp, the whole huge number of generals and courtiers who were with the army were located in a circle of ten miles around the best houses of the villages, on this and on the other side of the river. Barclay de Tolly stood four versts from the sovereign. He received Bolkonsky dryly and coldly and said in his German reprimand that he would report on him to the sovereign to determine his appointment, and for the time being asked him to be at his headquarters. Anatole Kuragin, whom Prince Andrei hoped to find in the army, was not here: he was in St. Petersburg, and Bolkonsky was pleased with this news. The interest of the center of the huge war that was being carried out occupied Prince Andrei, and he was glad for a while to be freed from the irritation that the thought of Kuragin produced in him. During the first four days, during which he did not demand anywhere, Prince Andrei traveled around the entire fortified camp and, with the help of his knowledge and conversations with knowledgeable people, tried to form a definite idea about him. But the question of whether this camp is profitable or disadvantageous remained unresolved for Prince Andrei. He had already managed to deduce from his military experience the conviction that in military affairs the most thoughtfully considered plans mean nothing (as he saw it in the Austerlitz campaign), that everything depends on how one responds to unexpected and unforeseen actions of the enemy, that everything depends on how and by whom the whole thing is conducted. In order to clarify this last question for himself, Prince Andrei, using his position and acquaintances, tried to delve into the nature of the management of the army, the persons and parties participating in it, and deduced for himself the following concept of the state of affairs.

When the sovereign was still in Vilna, the army was divided into three: the 1st army was under the command of Barclay de Tolly, the 2nd under the command of Bagration, the 3rd under the command of Tormasov. The sovereign was with the first army, but not as commander in chief. The order did not say that the sovereign would command, it only said that the sovereign would be with the army. In addition, under the sovereign personally there was no headquarters of the commander-in-chief, but there was the headquarters of the imperial main apartment. Under him was the chief of the imperial headquarters, Quartermaster General Prince Volkonsky, generals, aide-de-camp, diplomatic officials and a large number of foreigners, but there was no army headquarters. In addition, without a position with the sovereign were: Arakcheev - the former Minister of War, Count Benigsen - the eldest of the generals by rank, Grand Duke Tsarevich Konstantin Pavlovich, Count Rumyantsev - Chancellor, Stein - a former Prussian minister, Armfeld - a Swedish general, Pfuel - the main drafter of the campaign plan, Adjutant General Pauluchi - a Sardinian native, Wolzogen and many others. Although these persons were without military positions in the army, they had influence by their position, and often the corps commander and even the commander-in-chief did not know what Benigsen, or the Grand Duke, or Arakcheev, or Prince Volkonsky was asking or advising for. and did not know whether such and such an order in the form of advice was issued from him or from the sovereign and whether it was necessary or not to execute it. But this was an external situation, but the essential meaning of the presence of the sovereign and all these persons, from the court point (and in the presence of the sovereign, everyone becomes courtiers), was clear to everyone. He was as follows: the sovereign did not assume the title of commander in chief, but disposed of all the armies; the people around him were his assistants. Arakcheev was a faithful executor-guardian of order and bodyguard of the sovereign; Benigsen was a landowner of the Vilna province, who seemed to be doing les honneurs [was busy with the business of receiving the sovereign] of the region, but in essence he was a good general, useful for advice and in order to have him always ready to replace Barclay. The Grand Duke was here because it pleased him. The former minister, Stein, was there because he was useful for advice, and because Emperor Alexander highly valued his personal qualities. Armfeld was a bitter hater of Napoleon and a self-confident general, which always had an influence on Alexander. Pauluchi was here because he was bold and resolute in speeches, the Adjutant Generals were here because they were everywhere where the sovereign was, and, finally, - most importantly - Pfuel was here because he, having drawn up a plan of war against Napoleon and forcing Alexander to believe in the expediency of this plan, he directed the whole matter of the war. Under Pfule there was Wolzogen, who conveyed Pfuel's thoughts in a more accessible form than Pfuel himself, a sharp, self-confident to the point of contempt for everything, an armchair theorist.

In addition to these named persons, Russians and foreigners (especially foreigners, who, with the courage characteristic of people in activities among a foreign environment, every day offered new unexpected ideas), there were many more persons of secondary importance who were with the army because their principals were here.

The first party was: Pfuel and his followers, war theorists who believe that there is a science of war and that this science has its own immutable laws, the laws of oblique movement, detour, etc. Pfuel and his followers demanded a retreat into the interior of the country, deviations from the exact laws prescribed by the imaginary theory of war, and in any deviation from this theory they saw only barbarism, ignorance or malice. German princes, Wolzogen, Wintzingerode and others, mostly Germans, belonged to this party.

The second batch was the opposite of the first. As always happens, at one extreme there were representatives of the other extreme. The people of this party were those who, ever since Vilna, had demanded an offensive against Poland and freedom from all plans drawn up in advance. In addition to the fact that the representatives of this party were representatives of bold actions, they were at the same time representatives of nationality, as a result of which they became even more one-sided in the dispute. These were Russians: Bagration, Yermolov, who was beginning to rise, and others. At this time, the well-known joke of Yermolov was widespread, as if asking the sovereign for one favor - his promotion to the Germans. The people of this party said, recalling Suvorov, that one should not think, not prick a card with needles, but fight, beat the enemy, not let him into Russia and not let the army lose heart.

The third party, in which the sovereign had the most confidence, belonged to the court makers of transactions between both directions. The people of this party, for the most part non-military and to which Arakcheev belonged, thought and said what people usually say who have no convictions, but who wish to appear as such. They said that, without a doubt, a war, especially with such a genius as Bonaparte (he was again called Bonaparte), requires the most profound considerations, a deep knowledge of science, and in this matter Pfuel is a genius; but at the same time it is impossible not to admit that theoreticians are often one-sided, and therefore one should not completely trust them, one must listen both to what Pfuel's opponents say, and to what practical people, experienced in military affairs, and from everything say take the average. The people of this party insisted that, by holding the Drissa camp according to the Pfuel plan, they would change the movements of other armies. Although neither one nor the other goal was achieved by this course of action, it seemed better to the people of this party.

The fourth direction was the direction of which the most prominent representative was the Grand Duke, the heir to the Tsarevich, who could not forget his disappointment at Austerlitz, where, as if at a review, he rode in front of the guards in a helmet and tunic, hoping to valiantly crush the French, and, unexpectedly falling into the first line , forcibly left in general confusion. The people of this party had in their judgments both the quality and the lack of sincerity. They were afraid of Napoleon, they saw strength in him, weakness in themselves and directly expressed it. They said: “Nothing but grief, shame and death will come out of all this! So we left Vilna, we left Vitebsk, we will leave Drissa too. The only thing left for us to do wisely is to make peace, and as soon as possible, before we are driven out of Petersburg!”

This view, widely spread in the highest spheres of the army, found support both in St. Petersburg and in Chancellor Rumyantsev, who, for other state reasons, also stood for peace.

The fifth were adherents of Barclay de Tolly, not so much as a person, but as a minister of war and commander in chief. They said: “Whatever he is (they always started like that), but he is an honest, efficient person, and there is no one better than him. Give him real power, because war cannot go on successfully without unity of command, and he will show what he can do, as he showed himself in Finland. If our army is organized and strong and retreated to Drissa without suffering any defeats, then we owe this only to Barclay. If now they replace Barclay with Bennigsen, then everything will perish, because Bennigsen had already shown his inability in 1807,” said the people of this party.

The sixth, the Bennigsenists, said, on the contrary, that after all there was no one more efficient and more experienced than Bennigsen, and no matter how you turn around, you will still come to him. And the people of this party argued that our entire retreat to Drissa was a shameful defeat and an uninterrupted series of mistakes. “The more mistakes they make,” they said, “the better: at least they will soon realize that this cannot go on. And what is needed is not some kind of Barclay, but a person like Benigsen, who already showed himself in 1807, to whom Napoleon himself gave justice, and such a person who would be willingly recognized as the authority - and such is only one Benigsen.

Seventh - there were faces that always exist, especially under young sovereigns, and who were especially numerous under Emperor Alexander, - the faces of generals and aide-de-camp, passionately devoted to the sovereign, not as an emperor, but as a person, adoring him sincerely and disinterestedly, like him adored Rostov in 1805, and those who see in it not only all virtues, but also all human qualities. Although these persons admired the modesty of the sovereign, who refused to command the troops, they condemned this excessive modesty and wished only one thing and insisted that the adored sovereign, leaving excessive distrust of himself, openly announce that he was becoming the head of the army, would amount to himself the headquarters of the commander-in-chief and, consulting, where necessary, with experienced theoreticians and practitioners, he himself would lead his troops, whom this alone would bring to the highest state of inspiration.

The eighth, largest group of people, which, by its huge number, related to others, as 99 to the 1st, consisted of people who did not want peace, or war, or offensive movements, or a defensive camp, either under Drissa or anywhere else. there was no Barclay, no sovereign, no Pfuel, no Benigsen, but they wanted only one thing, and the most essential: the greatest benefits and pleasures for themselves. In that muddy water of intersecting and entangled intrigues that swarmed at the sovereign's main apartment, it was possible to succeed in a great deal in such a way that would have been unthinkable at another time. One, not wanting only to lose his advantageous position, today agreed with Pfuel, tomorrow with his opponent, the day after tomorrow he claimed that he had no opinion on a well-known subject, only in order to avoid responsibility and please the sovereign. Another, wishing to acquire benefits, attracted the attention of the sovereign, loudly shouting the very thing that the sovereign had hinted at the day before, arguing and shouting in council, hitting his chest and challenging those who disagreed to a duel and thereby showing that he was ready to be a victim of the common good. The third simply begged for himself, between two councils and in the absence of enemies, a lump sum for his faithful service, knowing that now there would be no time to refuse him. The fourth inadvertently caught the eye of the sovereign, burdened with work. The fifth, in order to achieve the long-desired goal - dinner with the sovereign, fiercely proved the rightness or wrongness of the newly expressed opinion and for this he cited more or less strong and fair evidence.

All the people of this party were catching rubles, crosses, ranks, and in this catching they only followed the direction of the weather vane of the royal mercy, and as soon as they noticed that the weather vane turned in one direction, how all this drone population of the army began to blow in the same direction, so that the sovereign the harder it was to turn it into another. In the midst of the uncertainty of the situation, in the midst of a threatening, serious danger, which gave everything a particularly disturbing character, amid this whirlwind of intrigues, vanities, clashes of different views and feelings, with the diversity of all these people, this eighth, largest party of people hired by personal interests, gave great confusion and confusion to the common cause. No matter what question was raised, and even a swarm of these drones, without having yet blown off the previous topic, flew over to a new one and, with its buzz, drowned out and obscured the sincere, arguing voices.

Of all these parties, at the very time that Prince Andrei arrived at the army, another ninth party gathered, and began to raise its voice. It was a party of old, sensible, state-experienced people who knew how, without sharing any of the contradictory opinions, to abstractly look at everything that was going on at the headquarters of the main apartment, and think over the means to get out of this uncertainty, indecision, confusion and weakness.

The people of this party said and thought that everything bad comes mainly from the presence of the sovereign with the military court at the army; that the army has carried over that indefinite, conditional, and vacillating precariousness of relations which is convenient at court but harmful in the army; that the sovereign needs to reign, and not to rule the army; that the only way out of this situation is the departure of the sovereign with his court from the army; that the mere presence of the sovereign paralyzes fifty thousand troops needed to ensure his personal safety; that the worst but independent commander-in-chief would be better than the best, but bound by the presence and power of the sovereign.

At the same time that Prince Andrei was living idle under Drissa, Shishkov, the Secretary of State, who was one of the main representatives of this party, wrote a letter to the sovereign, which Balashev and Arakcheev agreed to sign. In this letter, using the permission given to him by the sovereign to discuss the general course of affairs, he respectfully and under the pretext of the need for the sovereign to inspire the people in the capital to war, suggested that the sovereign leave the army.

The sovereign's inspiration of the people and the appeal to him to defend the fatherland - that same (as far as it was produced by the personal presence of the sovereign in Moscow) inspiration of the people, which was the main reason for the triumph of Russia, was presented to the sovereign and accepted by him as a pretext for leaving the army.

This letter had not yet been submitted to the sovereign, when Barclay conveyed to Bolkonsky at dinner that the sovereign personally wanted to see Prince Andrei in order to ask him about Turkey, and that Prince Andrei had to appear at Benigsen's apartment at six o'clock in the evening.

On the same day, news was received in the sovereign's apartment about Napoleon's new movement, which could be dangerous for the army - news that later turned out to be unfair. And on the same morning, Colonel Michaud, circling the Dris fortifications with the sovereign, proved to the sovereign that this fortified camp, arranged by Pfuel and still considered chef-d "

Prince Andrei arrived at the apartment of General Benigsen, who occupied a small landowner's house on the very bank of the river. Neither Bennigsen nor the sovereign was there, but Chernyshev, the sovereign's adjutant wing, received Bolkonsky and announced to him that the sovereign had gone with General Benigsen and the Marquis Pauluchi another time that day to bypass the fortifications of the Drissa camp, the convenience of which was beginning to be strongly doubted. .

Chernyshev was sitting with a book of a French novel by the window of the first room. This room was probably formerly a hall; there was still an organ in it, on which some kind of carpets were piled, and in one corner stood the folding bed of adjutant Benigsen. This adjutant was here. He, apparently worn out by a feast or business, sat on a folded bed and dozed off. Two doors led from the hall: one directly into the former living room, the other to the right into the office. From the first door came voices speaking German and occasionally French. There, in the former living room, at the request of the sovereign, not a military council was gathered (the sovereign loved uncertainty), but some persons whose opinion about the upcoming difficulties he wanted to know. It was not a military council, but, as it were, a council of the elect to clarify certain issues personally for the sovereign. The following were invited to this half-council: the Swedish General Armfeld, Adjutant General Wolzogen, Winzingerode, whom Napoleon called a fugitive French subject, Michaud, Toll, not a military man at all - Count Stein and, finally, Pfuel himself, who, as Prince Andrei heard, was la cheville ouvri

Pfuel at first glance, in his Russian general's badly tailored uniform, which sat awkwardly, as if dressed up, seemed familiar to Prince Andrei, although he had never seen him. It included Weyrother, and Mack, and Schmidt, and many other German theoretic generals whom Prince Andrei managed to see in 1805; but he was more typical than all of them. Such a German theorist, who combined everything that was in those Germans, Prince Andrei had never seen before.

Pful was short, very thin, but broad-boned, coarse, healthy build, with a wide pelvis and bony shoulder blades. His face was very wrinkled, with deep-set eyes. His hair in front at the temples, obviously, was hastily smoothed with a brush, behind it naively stuck out tassels. He, looking around uneasily and angrily, entered the room, as if he were afraid of everything in the large room into which he had entered. Holding his sword with an awkward movement, he turned to Chernyshev, asking in German where the sovereign was. He evidently wanted to go through the rooms as soon as possible, complete the bows and salutations, and sit down to work in front of the map, where he felt himself in the right place. He hurriedly nodded his head at Chernyshev's words and smiled ironically, listening to his words that the sovereign was inspecting the fortifications that he, Pfuel himself, had laid according to his theory. He muttered something bass and cool, as self-confident Germans say, to himself: Dummkopf ... or: zu Grunde die ganze Geschichte ... or: s "wird was gescheites d" raus werden ... [nonsense ... to hell with the whole thing ... (German)] Prince Andrei did not hear and wanted to pass, but Chernyshev introduced Prince Andrei to Pful, noting that Prince Andrei had come from Turkey, where the war had ended so happily. Pfuel almost glanced not so much at Prince Andrei as through him, and said with a laugh: "Da muss ein schoner taktischcr Krieg gewesen sein." [“Something must have been the right tactical war.” (German)] - And, laughing contemptuously, he went into the room from which voices were heard.

Evidently, Pfuel, who was always ready for ironic irritation, was especially agitated today by the fact that they dared to inspect his camp without him and judge him. Prince Andrei, from this one short meeting with Pfuel, thanks to his memories of Austerlitz, made up a clear characterization of this man. Pfuel was one of those hopelessly, invariably, self-confident people to the point of martyrdom, which only Germans are, and precisely because only Germans are self-confident on the basis of an abstract idea - science, that is, an imaginary knowledge of perfect truth. The Frenchman is self-confident because he considers himself personally, both in mind and body, irresistibly charming for both men and women. An Englishman is self-confident on the grounds that he is a citizen of the most comfortable state in the world, and therefore, as an Englishman, he always knows what he needs to do, and knows that everything he does as an Englishman is undoubtedly good. The Italian is self-confident because he is agitated and easily forgets himself and others. The Russian is self-confident precisely because he knows nothing and does not want to know, because he does not believe that it is possible to fully know anything. The German is self-confident worse than anyone, and harder than everyone, and more repulsive than everyone, because he imagines that he knows the truth, a science that he himself invented, but which for him is absolute truth. Such, obviously, was Pfuel. He had a science - the theory of oblique movement, which he derived from the history of the wars of Frederick the Great, and everything that he met in the recent history of the wars of Frederick the Great, and everything that he met in the latest military history, seemed to him nonsense, barbarism, an ugly clash in which so many mistakes were made on both sides that these wars could not be called wars: they did not fit the theory and could not serve as the subject of science.

In 1806, Pfuel was one of the drafters of the plan for the war that ended in Jena and Auerstet; but in the outcome of this war, he did not see the slightest evidence of the incorrectness of his theory. On the contrary, the deviations made from his theory, according to his concepts, were the only reason for all the failure, and he said with his characteristic joyful irony: "Ich sagte ja, daji die ganze Geschichte zum Teufel gehen wird." [After all, I told you that the whole thing will go to hell (German)] Pfuel was one of those theoreticians who love their theory so much that they forget the purpose of theory - its application to practice; in love with theory, he hated all practice and did not want to know it. He even rejoiced in his failure, because failure, which came from the deviation in practice from theory, proved to him only the validity of his theory.

He said a few words to Prince Andrei and Chernyshev about a real war with the expression of a man who knows in advance that everything will be bad and that he is not even dissatisfied with it. The uncombed tassels of hair sticking out at the back of the head and the hastily slicked temples confirmed this with particular eloquence.

He went into another room, and the bassy and grumbling sounds of his voice were immediately heard from there.

Before Prince Andrei had time to follow Pfuel with his eyes, Count Bennigsen hurriedly entered the room and, nodding his head to Bolkonsky, without stopping, went into the office, giving some orders to his adjutant. The sovereign followed him, and Bennigsen hurried forward to prepare something and have time to meet the sovereign. Chernyshev and Prince Andrei went out onto the porch. The sovereign with a tired look dismounted from his horse. Marquis Pauluchi said something to the Emperor. The sovereign, bowing his head to the left, listened with an unhappy look to Paulucci, who spoke with particular fervor. The emperor moved forward, apparently wanting to end the conversation, but the flushed, agitated Italian, forgetting decency, followed him, continuing to say:

Very glad to see you, go to where they have gathered and wait for me. - The emperor went into the office. Behind him walked Prince Pyotr Mikhailovich Volkonsky, Baron Stein, and the doors closed behind them. Prince Andrei, using the permission of the sovereign, went with Pauluchi, whom he had known back in Turkey, to the drawing room where the council had gathered.

Prince Pyotr Mikhailovich Volkonsky served as the chief of staff of the sovereign. Volkonsky left the office and, bringing the cards into the drawing room and laying them out on the table, he passed on questions on which he wished to hear the opinion of the assembled gentlemen. The fact was that at night the news was received (later turned out to be false) about the movement of the French around the Drissa camp.

The first to speak was General Armfeld, unexpectedly, in order to avoid the present difficulty, by proposing a completely new, in no way (except to show that he, too, may have an opinion) inexplicable position away from the Petersburg and Moscow roads, on which, in his opinion, the army should have united to wait for the enemy. It was evident that Armfeld had drawn up this plan long ago, and that he now presented it not so much with the aim of answering the proposed questions, to which this plan did not answer, but with the aim of taking the opportunity to express it. It was one of millions of assumptions that could be made just as thoroughly as others without having any idea of what character the war would take. Some challenged his opinion, some defended it. The young Colonel Toll disputed the opinion of the Swedish general more than others, and during the argument he took out a written notebook from his side pocket, which he asked permission to read. In a lengthy note, Tol proposed a different plan of campaign - completely contrary to both Armfeld's plan and Pfuel's plan. Pauluchi, objecting to Tolya, proposed a plan for moving forward and attacking, which alone, according to him, could lead us out of the unknown and the trap, as he called the Dris camp in which we were. Pfuel during these disputes and his interpreter Wolzogen (his bridge in a courtly sense) were silent. Pfuel only snorted contemptuously and turned away, showing that he would never stoop to object to the nonsense that he now hears. But when Prince Volkonsky, who was in charge of the debate, called him to present his opinion, he only said:

What am I to ask? General Armfeld offered an excellent position with an open rear. Or attack von diesem italienischen Herrn, sehr sch (German)] Or retreat. Auch gut. [Also good (German)] Why ask me? - he said. “Because you know everything better than me. - But when Volkonsky, frowning, said that he was asking his opinion on behalf of the sovereign, then Pfuel got up and, suddenly animated, began to say:

They spoiled everything, confused everyone, everyone wanted to know better than me, and now they came to me: how to fix it? Nothing to fix. Everything must be done exactly according to the reasons I have set forth,” he said, tapping his bony fingers on the table. - What is the difficulty? Nonsense, Kinderspiel. [Kids toys (German)] - He went up to the map and began to speak quickly, poking a dry finger on the map and proving that no accident can change the expediency of the Dris camp, that everything is foreseen and that if the enemy really goes around, then the enemy must inevitably be destroyed.

Pauluchi, who did not know German, began to ask him in French. Wolzogen came to the aid of his principal, who did not speak French well, and began to translate his words, barely keeping up with Pfuel, who quickly proved that everything, everything, not only what happened, but everything that could happen, everything was foreseen in his plan, and that if now there were difficulties, then all the fault was only in the fact that everything was not carried out exactly. He constantly laughed ironically, proved, and finally contemptuously gave up proving, just as a mathematician quits verifying the correctness of a problem once proven in various ways. Wolzogen replaced him, continuing to expound his thoughts in French and occasionally saying to Pfuel: "Nicht wahr, Exellenz?" [Isn't that right, Your Excellency? (German)] Pfuel, as in a battle a heated man beats his own, angrily shouted at Wolzogen:

Nun ja, was soll denn da noch expliziert werden? [Well, yes, what else is there to interpret? (German)] - Pauluchi and Michaud attacked Wolzogen in two voices in French. Armfeld addressed Pfuel in German. Tol explained in Russian to Prince Volkonsky. Prince Andrew silently listened and watched.

Of all these persons, the embittered, resolute and stupidly self-confident Pful was the most arousing interest in Prince Andrei. He was one of all the people present here, obviously, he did not want anything for himself, he did not harbor enmity towards anyone, but only wanted one thing - to put into action the plan drawn up according to the theory he had deduced over the years of work. He was ridiculous, was unpleasant with his irony, but at the same time he inspired involuntary respect with his boundless devotion to the idea. In addition, in all the speeches of all the speakers, with the exception of Pfuel, there was one common feature that was not at the military council in 1805 - it was now, although hidden, but a panic fear of the genius of Napoleon, a fear that was expressed in every objection. Everything was supposed to be possible for Napoleon, they were waiting for him from all sides, and with his terrible name they destroyed one another's assumptions. One Pful, it seemed, considered him, Napoleon, the same barbarian as all the opponents of his theory. But, in addition to a sense of respect, Pful inspired Prince Andrei with a sense of pity. From the tone with which the courtiers treated him, from what Pauluchi allowed himself to say to the emperor, but most importantly from the somewhat desperate expression of Pfuel himself, it was clear that others knew and he himself felt that his fall was near. And, despite his self-confidence and German grumpy irony, he was pitiful with his smoothed hair on the temples and tassels sticking out at the back of his head. Apparently, although he hid it under the guise of irritation and contempt, he was in despair because the only opportunity now to check on vast experience and prove to the whole world the correctness of his theory eluded him.

The debate went on for a long time, and the longer it went on, the more disputes flared up, reaching shouts and personalities, and the less it was possible to draw any general conclusion from everything that was said. Prince Andrei, listening to this multilingual dialect and these assumptions, plans and denials and cries, was only surprised at what they all said. Those thoughts that had come to him for a long time and often during his military activities, that there is and cannot be any military science and therefore there can be no so-called military genius, now received for him the complete evidence of the truth. “What kind of theory and science could there be in a matter in which the conditions and circumstances are unknown and cannot be determined, in which the strength of the leaders of the war can be even less determined? No one could and cannot know what the position of our and the enemy army will be in a day, and no one can know what the strength of this or that detachment is. Sometimes, when there is no coward in front who will shout: “We are cut off! - and run, and there is a cheerful, courageous person in front who will shout: “Hurrah! - a detachment of five thousand is worth thirty thousand, as at Shepgraben, and sometimes fifty thousand run before eight, as at Austerlitz. What kind of science can there be in such a matter, in which, as in any practical matter, nothing can be determined and everything depends on innumerable conditions, the significance of which is determined in one minute, about which no one knows when it will come. Armfeld says that our army is cut off, and Pauluchi says that we have placed the French army between two fires; Michaud says that the worthlessness of the Drissa camp lies in the fact that the river is behind, and Pfuel says that this is his strength. Tol proposes one plan, Armfeld proposes another; and everyone is good, and everyone is bad, and the benefits of any situation can be obvious only at the moment when the event takes place. And why does everyone say: a military genius? Is a genius the person who manages to order the delivery of crackers in time and go to the right, to the left? Just because military people are clothed with brilliance and power, and masses of scoundrels flatter power, giving it the unusual qualities of a genius, they are called geniuses. Against, the best generals people I knew were stupid or distracted people. The best Bagration, - Napoleon himself admitted this. And Bonaparte himself! I remember his self-satisfied and limited face on the field of Austerlitz. Not only does a good commander not need genius and any special qualities, but, on the contrary, he needs the absence of the best, highest, human qualities - love, poetry, tenderness, philosophical inquisitive doubt. He must be limited, firmly convinced that what he does is very important (otherwise he will lack patience), and then only he will be a brave commander. God forbid, if he is a man, he will love someone, take pity, think about what is fair and what is not. It is clear that from time immemorial the theory of geniuses has been forged for them, because they are the authorities. The merit in the success of military affairs does not depend on them, but on the person who shouts in the ranks: they are gone, or shouts: hurrah! And only in these ranks can you serve with confidence that you are useful!“

So thought Prince Andrei, listening to the talk, and woke up only when Pauluchi called him and everyone was already dispersing.

The next day, at the review, the sovereign asked Prince Andrei where he wanted to serve, and Prince Andrei lost himself forever in the court world, not asking to stay with the person of the sovereign, but asking permission to serve in the army.

Before the opening of the campaign, Rostov received a letter from his parents, in which, briefly informing him of Natasha's illness and the break with Prince Andrei (this break was explained to him by Natasha's refusal), they again asked him to retire and come home. Nikolai, having received this letter, did not try to ask for a vacation or resignation, but wrote to his parents that he was very sorry about Natasha's illness and break with her fiancé and that he would do everything possible to fulfill their desire. He wrote to Sonya separately.

“Adorable friend of my soul,” he wrote. “Nothing but honor could keep me from returning to the village. But now, before the opening of the campaign, I would consider myself dishonorable not only before all my comrades, but also before myself, if I preferred my happiness to my duty and love for the fatherland. But this is the last parting. Believe that immediately after the war, if I am alive and loved by you, I will drop everything and fly to you to press you forever to my fiery chest.

Indeed, only the opening of the campaign delayed Rostov and prevented him from coming - as he promised - and marrying Sonya. Otradnensky autumn with hunting and winter with Christmas time and with Sonya's love opened up to him the prospect of quiet aristocratic joys and tranquility, which he had not known before and which now beckoned him to them. “A glorious wife, children, a kind flock of hounds, dashing ten - twelve packs of greyhounds, household, neighbors, election service! he thought. But now there was a campaign, and it was necessary to remain in the regiment. And since this was necessary, Nikolai Rostov, by his nature, was also pleased with the life he led in the regiment, and managed to make this life pleasant for himself.

Arriving from vacation, joyfully greeted by his comrades, Nikolai sent for repairs and brought excellent horses from Little Russia, which pleased him and earned him praise from his superiors. In his absence, he was promoted to captain, and when the regiment was put on martial law with an increased kit, he again received his former squadron.

A campaign began, the regiment was moved to Poland, a double salary was issued, new officers arrived, new people, horses; and, most importantly, that excited, cheerful mood that accompanies the outbreak of war has spread; and Rostov, conscious of his advantageous position in the regiment, devoted himself entirely to the pleasures and interests of military service, although he knew that sooner or later he would have to leave them.

The troops retreated from Vilna for various complex state, political and tactical reasons. Each step of the retreat was accompanied by a complex play of interests, conclusions and passions in the main headquarters. For the hussars of the Pavlograd regiment, this whole retreat, at the best time of summer, with sufficient food, was the simplest and most fun thing to do. They could lose heart, worry and intrigue in the main apartment, but in the deep army they did not ask themselves where, why they were going. If they regretted that they were retreating, it was only because they had to leave the habitable apartment, from the pretty lady. If it occurred to anyone that things were bad, then, as a good military man should, the one to whom it occurred to him tried to be cheerful and not think about the general course of affairs, but think about his immediate business. At first they cheerfully stood near Vilna, making acquaintances with the Polish landowners and waiting and serving reviews of the sovereign and other high commanders. Then the order came to retreat to the Sventsians and destroy the provisions that could not be taken away. The Sventsians were remembered by the hussars only because it was drunk camp, as the whole army called the camp near Sventsyan, and because in Sventsyan there were many complaints against the troops because, taking advantage of the order to take provisions, they took away horses, carriages, and carpets from the Polish lords among the provisions. Rostov remembered Sventsyany because on the first day of entering this place he changed the sergeant-major and could not cope with all the people of the squadron who got drunk, who, without his knowledge, took away five barrels of old beer. From Sventsyan they retreated further and further to Drissa, and again retreated from Drissa, already approaching the Russian borders.

On July 12, on the night before the case, there was a strong storm with rain and a thunderstorm. The summer of 1812 was generally remarkable for its storms.

Pavlograd's two squadrons bivouacked, among the rye field, already beaten to the ground by cattle and horses. The rain was pouring down, and Rostov, with the young officer Ilyin, who was patronized by him, sat under a hastily fenced hut. An officer of their regiment, with a long mustache extending from his cheeks, who went to headquarters and was caught in the rain, went to Rostov.

I, count, from headquarters. Have you heard the feat of Raevsky? - And the officer told the details of the Saltanovsky battle, heard by him at headquarters.

Rostov, shrugging his neck, behind which the water flowed, smoked a pipe and listened inattentively, occasionally glancing at the young officer Ilyin, who huddled around him. This officer, a sixteen-year-old boy who had recently entered the regiment, was now in relation to Nikolai what Nikolai had been in relation to Denisov seven years ago. Ilyin tried to imitate Rostov in everything and, like a woman, was in love with him.

An officer with a double mustache, Zdrzhinsky, spoke pompously about how the Saltanovskaya dam was the Thermopylae of the Russians, how General Raevsky committed an act worthy of antiquity on this dam. Zdrzhinsky told the act of Raevsky, who brought his two sons to the dam under terrible fire and went on the attack next to them. Rostov listened to the story and not only did not say anything to confirm Zdrzhinsky's delight, but, on the contrary, had the appearance of a man who was ashamed of what he was being told, although he did not intend to object. Rostov, after the Austerlitz and 1807 campaigns, knew from his own experience that, telling military incidents, they always lie, just as he himself lied when telling; secondly, he had such experience that he knew how everything happens in the war is not at all the way we can imagine and tell. And therefore he did not like Zdrzhinsky's story, and he did not like Zdrzhinsky himself, who, with his mustache from his cheeks, as usual bent low over the face of the person to whom he was telling, and crowded him into a cramped hut. Rostov silently looked at him. “Firstly, on the dam that was attacked, it must have been such confusion and crowding that if Raevsky brought his sons out, then this could not affect anyone, except for about ten people who were near him , - thought Rostov, - the rest could not see how and with whom Raevsky walked along the dam. But even those who saw this could not be very inspired, because what did they care about Raevsky's tender parental feelings when it was about their own skin? Then the fate of the fatherland did not depend on the fact that they would take or not take the Saltanovskaya dam, as they describe it to us about Thermopylae. And so, why was it necessary to make such a sacrifice? And then, why here, in the war, interfere with their children? Not only would I not lead my brother Petya, even Ilyin, even this stranger to me, but a good boy, I would try to put somewhere under protection, ”Rostov continued to think, listening to Zdrzhinsky. But he did not say his thoughts: he already had experience in this. He knew that this story contributed to the glorification of our weapons, and therefore it was necessary to pretend that you did not doubt it. And so he did.

However, there is no urine, - said Ilyin, who noticed that Rostov did not like Zdrzhinsky's conversation. - And stockings, and a shirt, and it leaked under me. I'm going to look for shelter. The rain seems to be better. - Ilyin left, and Zdrzhinsky left.

Five minutes later, Ilyin, splashing through the mud, ran to the hut.

Hooray! Rostov, let's go faster. Found! Here is two hundred paces of a tavern, ours have already climbed there. At least we dry off, and Marya Genrikhovna is there.

Marya Genrikhovna was the wife of the regimental doctor, a young, pretty German woman whom the doctor had married in Poland. The doctor, either because he did not have the means, or because he did not want to be separated from his young wife at first, took her everywhere with him to the hussar regiment, and the doctor's jealousy became a common subject of jokes between hussar officers.

Rostov threw on his cloak, called Lavrushka after him with his belongings, and went with Ilyin, sometimes rolling in the mud, sometimes splashing straight in the subsiding rain, in the darkness of the evening, occasionally broken by distant lightning.

Rostov, where are you?

Here. What lightning! they were talking.

In the abandoned tavern, in front of which stood the doctor's wagon, there were already about five officers. Marya Genrikhovna, a plump blond German woman in a blouse and nightcap, was sitting in the front corner on a wide bench. Her husband, the doctor, slept behind her. Rostov and Ilyin, met with cheerful exclamations and laughter, entered the room.

AND! what fun you have, ”said Rostov, laughing.

And what are you yawning?

Good! So it flows from them! Don't wet our living room.

Don't get Marya Genrikhovna's dress dirty, the voices answered.

Rostov and Ilyin hurried to find a corner where, without violating the modesty of Marya Genrikhovna, they could change their wet clothes. They went behind the partition to change their clothes; but in a small closet, filling it all up, with one candle on an empty box, three officers were sitting, playing cards, and would not give up their place for anything. Marya Genrikhovna gave up her skirt for a while in order to use it instead of a curtain, and behind this curtain, Rostov and Ilyin, with the help of Lavrushka, who brought packs, took off their wet and put on a dry dress.

A fire was kindled in the broken stove. They took out a board and, having fixed it on two saddles, covered it with a blanket, took out a samovar, a cellar and half a bottle of rum, and, asking Marya Genrikhovna to be the hostess, everyone crowded around her. Who offered her a clean handkerchief to wipe her lovely hands, who put a Hungarian coat under her legs so that it would not be damp, who curtained the window with a raincoat so that it would not blow, who fanned the flies from her husband’s face so that he would not wake up.

Leave him alone,” said Marya Genrikhovna, smiling timidly and happily, “he sleeps well after a sleepless night.

It’s impossible, Marya Genrikhovna, ”the officer answered,“ we must serve the doctor. Everything, maybe, and he will take pity on me when he cuts his leg or arm.

There were only three glasses; the water was so dirty that it was impossible to decide when the tea was strong or weak, and there was only six glasses of water in the samovar, but it was all the more pleasant, in turn and seniority, to receive your glass from Marya Genrikhovna’s plump hands with short, not quite clean nails . All the officers really seemed to be in love with Marya Genrikhovna that evening. Even those officers who were playing cards behind the partition soon gave up the game and went over to the samovar, obeying the general mood of wooing Marya Genrikhovna. Marya Genrikhovna, seeing herself surrounded by such brilliant and courteous youth, beamed with happiness, no matter how hard she tried to hide it and no matter how obviously shy at every sleepy movement of her husband sleeping behind her.

There was only one spoon, there was most of the sugar, but they did not have time to stir it, and therefore it was decided that she would stir the sugar in turn for everyone. Rostov, having received his glass and poured rum into it, asked Marya Genrikhovna to stir it.

Are you sugar free? - she said, smiling all the time, as if everything she said, and everything others said, was very funny and had another meaning.

Yes, I don’t have sugar, I just want you to stir with your pen.

Marya Genrikhovna agreed and began to look for the spoon, which someone had already seized.

You are a finger, Marya Genrikhovna, - said Rostov, - it will be even more pleasant.

Hot! said Marya Genrikhovna, blushing with pleasure.

Ilyin took a bucket of water and, dropping rum into it, came to Marya Genrikhovna, asking her to stir it with her finger.

This is my cup, he said. - Just put your finger in, I'll drink it all.

When the samovar was all drunk, Rostov took the cards and offered to play kings with Marya Genrikhovna. A lot was cast as to who should form the party of Marya Genrikhovna. The rules of the game, at the suggestion of Rostov, were that the one who would be the king had the right to kiss the hand of Marya Genrikhovna, and that the one who remained a scoundrel would go to put a new samovar for the doctor when he wakes up.

Well, what if Marya Genrikhovna becomes king? Ilyin asked.

She is a queen too! And her orders are the law.

The game had just begun, when the doctor's confused head suddenly rose from behind Marya Genrikhovna. He had not slept for a long time and listened to what was said, and apparently did not find anything cheerful, funny or amusing in everything that was said and done. His face was sad and dejected. He did not greet the officers, scratched himself and asked for permission to leave, as he was blocked from the road. As soon as he left, all the officers burst into loud laughter, and Marya Genrikhovna blushed to tears, and thus became even more attractive to the eyes of all the officers. Returning from the yard, the doctor told his wife (who had already ceased to smile so happily and, fearfully awaiting the verdict, looked at him) that the rain had passed and that we had to go to spend the night in a wagon, otherwise they would all be dragged away.

Yes, I'll send a messenger ... two! Rostov said. - Come on, doctor.

I'll be on the watch myself! Ilyin said.

No, gentlemen, you slept well, but I didn’t sleep for two nights, ”said the doctor and sat down gloomily beside his wife, waiting for the game to end.

Looking at the gloomy face of the doctor, looking askance at his wife, the officers became even more cheerful, and many could not help laughing, for which they hastily tried to find plausible pretexts. When the doctor left, taking his wife away, and got into the wagon with her, the officers lay down in the tavern, covering themselves with wet overcoats; but they didn’t sleep for a long time, now talking, remembering the doctor’s fright and the doctor’s merriment, now running out onto the porch and reporting what was happening in the wagon. Several times Rostov, wrapping himself up, wanted to fall asleep; but again someone's remark amused him, the conversation began again, and again there was heard the causeless, cheerful, childish laughter.

At three o'clock, no one had yet fallen asleep, when the sergeant-major appeared with the order to march to the town of Ostrovna.

All with the same accent and laughter, the officers hurriedly began to gather; again put the samovar on the dirty water. But Rostov, without waiting for tea, went to the squadron. It was already light; The rain stopped, the clouds dispersed. It was damp and cold, especially in a damp dress. Leaving the tavern, Rostov and Ilyin both looked in the twilight of dawn into the doctor's leather tent, glossy from the rain, from under the apron of which the doctor's legs stuck out and in the middle of which the doctor's bonnet was visible on the pillow and sleepy breathing was heard.

Indeed, she is very nice! Rostov said to Ilyin, who was leaving with him.

What a beauty woman! Ilyin replied with sixteen-year-old seriousness.

Half an hour later, the lined up squadron stood on the road. The command was heard: “Sit down! The soldiers crossed themselves and began to sit down. Rostov, riding forward, commanded: “March! - and, stretching out in four people, the hussars, sounding with the slap of hooves on the wet road, the strumming of sabers and in a low voice, set off along the large road lined with birches, following the infantry and the battery walking ahead.

Broken blue-lilac clouds, reddening at sunrise, were quickly driven by the wind. It got brighter and brighter. One could clearly see that curly grass that always sits along country roads, still wet from yesterday's rain; the hanging branches of the birch trees, also wet, swayed in the wind and dropped light drops to the side. The faces of the soldiers became clearer and clearer. Rostov rode with Ilyin, who did not lag behind him, along the side of the road, between a double row of birches.

Rostov in the campaign allowed himself the freedom to ride not on a front-line horse, but on a Cossack. Both a connoisseur and a hunter, he recently got himself a dashing Don, large and kind playful horse, on which no one jumped him. Riding this horse was a pleasure for Rostov. He thought of the horse, of the morning, of the doctor's wife, and never once thought of the impending danger.

Before, Rostov, going into business, was afraid; now he did not feel the least sense of fear. Not because he was not afraid that he was accustomed to fire (one cannot get used to danger), but because he had learned to control his soul in the face of danger. He was accustomed, going into business, to think about everything, except for what seemed to be more interesting than anything else - about the impending danger. No matter how hard he tried, or reproached himself for cowardice during the first time of his service, he could not achieve this; but over the years it has now become self-evident. He was now riding beside Ilyin between the birches, occasionally tearing leaves from the branches that came to hand, sometimes touching the horse's groin with his foot, sometimes giving, without turning, his smoked pipe to the hussar who was riding behind, with such a calm and carefree look, as if he were riding ride. It was a pity for him to look at the agitated face of Ilyin, who spoke a lot and uneasily; he knew from experience that agonizing state of expectation of fear and death in which the cornet was, and he knew that nothing but time would help him.

The sun had just appeared on a clear strip from under the clouds, when the wind died down, as if he did not dare to spoil this charming summer morning after a thunderstorm; the drops were still falling, but already sheer, and everything was quiet. The sun came out completely, appeared on the horizon and disappeared in a narrow and long cloud that stood above it. A few minutes later the sun appeared even brighter on the upper edge of the cloud, tearing its edges. Everything lit up and sparkled. And along with this light, as if answering it, shots of guns were heard ahead.

Rostov had not yet had time to think over and determine how far these shots were, when the adjutant of Count Osterman-Tolstoy galloped up from Vitebsk with orders to trot along the road.

The squadron drove around the infantry and the battery, which was also in a hurry to go faster, went downhill and, passing through some empty, without inhabitants, village, again climbed the mountain. The horses began to soar, the people blushed.

Stop, equalize! - the command of the divisional was heard ahead.

Left shoulder forward, step march! - commanded ahead.

And the hussars along the line of troops went to the left flank of the position and stood behind our lancers, who were in the first line. On the right, our infantry stood in a dense column - these were reserves; Above it on the mountain, in the clean, clean air, in the morning, oblique and bright, illumination, on the very horizon, our cannons were visible. Enemy columns and cannons were visible ahead beyond the hollow. In the hollow we could hear our chain, already in action and merrily snapping with the enemy.

Rostov, as from the sounds of the most cheerful music, felt cheerful in his soul from these sounds, which had not been heard for a long time. Trap-ta-ta-tap! - they suddenly clapped, then quickly, one after another, several shots. Everything fell silent again, and again crackers seemed to crackle, on which someone was walking.

The hussars stood for about an hour in one place. The cannonade began. Count Osterman and his retinue rode behind the squadron, stopped, spoke with the regimental commander, and rode off to the cannons on the mountain.

Following the departure of Osterman, a command was heard from the lancers:

Form a column to attack! - The infantry ahead of them doubled up in platoons to let the cavalry through. The lancers set off, swaying with the weathercocks of their peaks, and at a trot went downhill towards the French cavalry, which appeared under the mountain to the left.

As soon as the lancers went downhill, the hussars were ordered to move uphill, to cover the battery. While the hussars took the place of the uhlans, distant, missing bullets flew from the chain, screeching and whistling.

This sound, which had not been heard for a long time, had an even more joyful and exciting effect on Rostov than the previous sounds of shooting. He, straightening up, looked at the battlefield that opened from the mountain, and wholeheartedly participated in the movement of the lancers. The lancers flew close to the French dragoons, something got tangled up in the smoke, and after five minutes the lancers rushed back not to the place where they were standing, but to the left. Between the orange lancers on red horses and behind them, in a large bunch, blue French dragoons on gray horses were visible.

Rostov, with his keen hunting eye, was one of the first to see these blue French dragoons pursuing our lancers. Closer, closer, the uhlans moved in disordered crowds, and the French dragoons pursuing them. It was already possible to see how these people, who seemed small under the mountain, collided, overtook each other and waved their arms or sabers.

Rostov looked at what was going on in front of him as if he were being persecuted. He instinctively felt that if they now attacked the French dragoons with the hussars, they would not resist; but if you strike, it was necessary now, this very minute, otherwise it would be too late. He looked around him. The captain, standing beside him, kept his eyes on the cavalry below in the same way.

Andrey Sevastyanych, - said Rostov, - after all, we doubt them ...

It would be a dashing thing, - said the captain, - but in fact ...

Rostov, without listening to him, pushed his horse, galloped ahead of the squadron, and before he had time to command the movement, the whole squadron, experiencing the same thing as he, set off after him. Rostov himself did not know how and why he did it. He did all this, as he did on the hunt, without thinking, without understanding. He saw that the dragoons were close, that they were jumping, upset; he knew that they would not stand it, he knew that there was only one minute that would not return if he missed it. The bullets squealed and whistled so excitedly around him, the horse begged forward so eagerly that he could not stand it. He touched the horse, commanded, and at the same instant, hearing the sound of the clatter of his deployed squadron behind him, at full trot, began to descend to the dragoons downhill. As soon as they went downhill, their gait of the lynx involuntarily turned into a gallop, becoming faster and faster as they approached their lancers and the French dragoons galloping after them. The dragoons were close. The front ones, seeing the hussars, began to turn back, the rear ones to stop. With the feeling with which he rushed across the wolf, Rostov, releasing his bottom in full swing, galloped across the frustrated ranks of the French dragoons. One lancer stopped, one on foot crouched to the ground so as not to be crushed, one horse without a rider got mixed up with the hussars. Almost all French dragoons galloped back. Rostov, choosing one of them on a gray horse, set off after him. On the way he ran into a bush; a good horse carried him over him, and, barely managing on the saddle, Nikolai saw that in a few moments he would catch up with the enemy whom he had chosen as his target. This Frenchman, probably an officer - according to his uniform, bent over, galloped on his gray horse, urging it on with a saber. A moment later, Rostov's horse struck the officer's horse with its chest, almost knocked it down, and at the same instant Rostov, without knowing why, raised his saber and struck the Frenchman with it.

At the same moment he did this, all the revival of Rostov suddenly disappeared. The officer fell not so much from a blow with a saber, which only slightly cut his arm above the elbow, but from a horse's push and from fear. Rostov, holding back his horse, looked for his enemy with his eyes in order to see whom he had defeated. A French dragoon officer jumped on the ground with one foot, the other caught in the stirrup. He, screwing up his eyes in fear, as if expecting every second of a new blow, grimaced, looked up at Rostov with an expression of horror. His face, pale and splattered with mud, blond, young, with a hole in his chin and bright blue eyes, was the most not for a battlefield, not an enemy face, but the simplest room face. Even before Rostov had decided what he would do with him, the officer shouted: "Je me rends!" [I give up!] In a hurry, he wanted and could not disentangle his leg from the stirrup and, without taking his frightened blue eyes off, looked at Rostov. The hussars jumped up and freed his leg and put him on the saddle. Hussars from different sides were busy with the dragoons: one was wounded, but, with his face covered in blood, did not give up his horse; the other, embracing the hussar, sat on the back of his horse; the third climbed, supported by a hussar, onto his horse. Ahead ran, firing, the French infantry. The hussars hastily galloped back with their prisoners. Rostov galloped back with the others, experiencing some kind of unpleasant feeling that squeezed his heart. Something obscure, confused, which he could not explain to himself, was revealed to him by the capture of this officer and the blow that he dealt him.

Count Osterman-Tolstoy met the returning hussars, called Rostov, thanked him and said that he would present to the sovereign about his valiant deed and would ask for the St. George Cross for him. When Rostov was demanded to Count Osterman, he, remembering that his attack had been launched without orders, was fully convinced that the boss was demanding him in order to punish him for his unauthorized act. Therefore, Osterman's flattering words and the promise of a reward should have struck Rostov all the more joyfully; but the same unpleasant, vague feeling morally sickened him. “What the hell is bothering me? he asked himself as he drove away from the general. - Ilyin? No, he's whole. Did I embarrass myself with something? No. Everything is not right! Something else tormented him, like remorse. - Yes, yes, this French officer with a hole. And I remember well how my hand stopped when I picked it up.

Rostov saw the prisoners being taken away and galloped after them to see his Frenchman with a hole in his chin. He, in his strange uniform, sat on a clockwork hussar horse and looked around him uneasily. The wound on his hand was almost not a wound. He feigned a smile at Rostov and waved his hand in the form of a greeting. Rostov was still embarrassed and somehow ashamed.

All this and the next day, Rostov's friends and comrades noticed that he was not boring, not angry, but silent, thoughtful and concentrated. He drank reluctantly, tried to remain alone and kept thinking about something.

Rostov kept thinking about this brilliant feat of his, which, to his surprise, bought him the George Cross and even made him a reputation as a brave man - and could not understand something. “So they are even more afraid of ours! he thought. - So that's all there is, what is called heroism? And did I do it for the fatherland? And what is he to blame for with his hole and blue eyes? And how scared he was! He thought I would kill him. Why should I kill him? My hand trembled. And they gave me the George Cross. I don't understand anything!"

But while Nikolai was processing these questions in himself and still did not give himself a clear account of what so embarrassed him, the wheel of happiness in the service, as often happens, turned in his favor. He was pushed forward after the Ostrovnensky case, they gave him a battalion of hussars, and when it was necessary to use a brave officer, they gave him instructions.

Having received news of Natasha's illness, the countess, still not quite healthy and weak, came to Moscow with Petya and the whole house, and the entire Rostov family moved from Marya Dmitrievna to their house and completely settled in Moscow.

Natasha's illness was so serious that, to her happiness and to the happiness of her relatives, the thought of everything that had caused her illness, her act and the break with her fiancé passed into the background. She was so ill that it was impossible to think how much she was to blame for everything that happened, while she did not eat, did not sleep, noticeably lost weight, coughed and was, as the doctors made her feel, in danger. All he had to think about was helping her. Doctors went to Natasha both individually and in consultations, spoke a lot in French, German and Latin, condemned one another, prescribed the most diverse medicines for all diseases known to them; but not one of them came up with the simple thought that they could not be aware of the illness that Natasha suffered, just as no illness that a living person is obsessed with could be known: for every living person has his own characteristics and always has special and its own new, complex, unknown disease to medicine, not a disease of the lungs, liver, skin, heart, nerves, etc., recorded in medicine, but a disease consisting of one of the innumerable compounds in the suffering of these organs. This simple thought could not come to doctors (just as the thought cannot come to a sorcerer that he cannot conjure) because their life's work was to heal, because they received money for that, and because they spent the best years of their lives on this business. But the main thing is that this thought could not come to the doctors because they saw that they were undoubtedly useful, and were really useful for all the Rostovs at home. They were useful not because they forced the patient to swallow mostly harmful substances (this harm was not very sensitive, because harmful substances were given in small quantities), but they were useful, necessary, inevitable (the reason is why there always are and will be imaginary healers, soothsayers, homeopaths and allopaths) because they satisfied the moral needs of the sick and people who love the sick. They satisfied that eternal human need of hope for relief, the need for sympathy and activity that a person experiences during suffering. They satisfied that eternal, human need, which is noticeable in a child in the most primitive form, to rub the place that is bruised. The child will kill himself and immediately run into the hands of the mother, the nanny in order to be kissed and rubbed on the sore spot, and it becomes easier for him when the sore spot is rubbed or kissed. The child does not believe that the strongest and wisest of him do not have the means to help his pain. And the hope for relief and the expression of sympathy while the mother rubs his bump consoles him. Doctors for Natasha were useful in that they kissed and rubbed bobo, assuring that it would pass immediately if the coachman went to the Arbat pharmacy and took seven hryvnias of powders and pills in a pretty box for a ruble, and if these powders were sure to be taken in two hours, no more and no less, the patient would take in boiled water.

What would Sonya, the count and the countess do, how would they look at the weak, melting Natasha, doing nothing, if there weren’t these pills by the hour, drinking warm, chicken cutlets and all the details of life prescribed by the doctor, observing which was a lesson and comfort for others? The stricter and more complex these rules were, the more comforting it was for those around. How would the count endure the illness of his beloved daughter, if he did not know that Natasha's illness cost him thousands of rubles and that he would not spare thousands more to do her good: if he did not know that if she did not recover, he would not he will spare thousands more and take her abroad and hold consultations there; if he had not been able to tell the details about how Metivier and Feller did not understand, but Freeze understood, and Mudrov defined the disease even better? What would the countess do if she could not sometimes quarrel with the sick Natasha because she did not fully comply with the doctor's prescriptions?

You will never get well, - she said, forgetting her grief in annoyance, - if you do not obey the doctor and take your medicine at the wrong time! After all, you can’t joke about this when you can get pneumonia, ”the countess said, and in the pronunciation of this one word, incomprehensible to more than her, she already found great consolation. What would Sonya do if she didn’t have the joyful consciousness that she didn’t undress for three nights at first in order to be ready to fulfill exactly all the doctor’s instructions, and that she now doesn’t sleep at night so as not to miss the clock in which it is necessary to give harmless pills from a golden box? Even Natasha herself, who, although she said that no medicines could cure her and that all this was nonsense - and she was glad to see that so many donations were made for her that she had to take medicines at certain hours, and even she was happy was that she, neglecting the fulfillment of the prescribed, could show that she did not believe in treatment and did not value her life.

The doctor went every day, felt the pulse, looked at the tongue and, not paying attention to her dead face, joked with her. But on the other hand, when he went out into another room, the countess hurriedly followed him, and he, assuming a serious look and shaking his head thoughtfully, said that, although there was danger, he hoped for the effect of this last medicine, and that we had to wait and see. ; that the disease is more moral, but ...

The countess, trying to hide this act from herself and from the doctor, put a gold piece into his hand and each time returned to the patient with a calm heart.

The signs of Natasha's illness were that she ate little, slept little, coughed, and never perked up. Doctors said that the patient should not be left without medical help, and therefore they kept her in the stuffy air in the city. And in the summer of 1812, the Rostovs did not leave for the village.

Despite the large number of swallowed pills, drops and powders from jars and boxes, from which madame Schoss, the hunter for these gizmos, gathered a large collection, despite the absence of the usual village life, youth took its toll: Natasha's grief began to be covered with a layer of impressions of her life, it such excruciating pain ceased to lie on her heart, it began to become past, and Natasha began to recover physically.

Natasha was calmer, but not more cheerful. She not only avoided all external conditions of joy: balls, skating, concerts, theater; but she never laughed so that her tears were not heard because of her laughter. She couldn't sing. As soon as she began to laugh or tried to sing alone with herself, tears choked her: tears of remorse, tears of memories of that irrevocable, pure time; tears of annoyance that so, for nothing, she ruined her young life, which could have been so happy. Laughter and singing especially seemed to her a blasphemy against her grief. She never thought of coquetry; she didn't even have to refrain. She said and felt that at that time all men were to her exactly the same as the jester Nastasya Ivanovna. The inner guard firmly forbade her any joy. And she did not have all the former interests of life from that girlish, carefree, hopeful way of life. More often and most painfully, she recalled the autumn months, the hunt, her uncle, and Christmas time spent with Nicolas in Otradnoe. What would she give to bring back even one day from that time! But it was over forever. The foreboding did not deceive her then that that state of freedom and openness to all joys would never return again. But I had to live.

It was comforting to her to think that she was not better, as she had thought before, but worse and much worse than everyone, everyone, who only exists in the world. But this was not enough. She knew this and asked herself: “What next? And then there was nothing. There was no joy in life, and life passed. Natasha, apparently, tried only not to be a burden to anyone and not to interfere with anyone, but for herself she did not need anything. She moved away from everyone at home, and only with her brother Petya was it easy for her. She liked to be with him more than with the others; and sometimes, when she was with him eye to eye, she laughed. She hardly left the house, and of those who came to see them, she was glad only for Pierre. It was impossible to treat her more tenderly, more carefully, and at the same time more seriously than Count Bezukhov treated her. Natasha Osss consciously felt this tenderness of treatment and therefore found great pleasure in his company. But she was not even grateful to him for his tenderness; nothing good on the part of Pierre seemed to her an effort. It seemed so natural for Pierre to be kind to everyone that there was no merit in his kindness. Sometimes Natasha noticed Pierre's embarrassment and awkwardness in her presence, especially when he wanted to do something nice for her or when he was afraid that something in the conversation would bring Natasha to painful memories. She noticed this and attributed it to his general kindness and shyness, which, according to her, the same as with her, should have been with everyone. After those inadvertent words that, if he were free, he would ask her hands and love on his knees, said at a moment of such strong excitement for her, Pierre never said anything about his feelings for Natasha; and it was obvious to her that those words, which then so comforted her, were spoken, as all sorts of meaningless words are spoken to comfort a crying child. Not because Pierre was a married man, but because Natasha felt between herself and him in the highest degree that force of moral barriers - the absence of which she felt with Kyragin - it never occurred to her that not only love from her or, even less, from his side, could come out of her relationship with Pierre, but even that kind of tender, recognizing herself, the poetic friendship between a man and a woman, of which she knew several examples.

At the end of the Petrovsky post, Agrafena Ivanovna Belova, the Rostovs' Otradnenskaya neighbor, came to Moscow to bow to the Moscow saints. She invited Natasha to go to bed, and Natasha seized on this idea with joy. Despite the doctor’s prohibition to go out early in the morning, Natasha insisted on fasting, and not fasting as usual in the Rostovs’ house, that is, listening to three services at home, but in order to fast as Agrafena Ivanovna used to, that is, all week without missing a single Vespers, Mass or Matins.

The countess liked Natasha's zeal; in her soul, after unsuccessful medical treatment, she hoped that prayer would help her with more medicines, and although with fear and hiding from the doctor, she agreed to Natasha's desire and entrusted her to Belova. Agrafena Ivanovna came at three o'clock in the morning to wake Natasha, and for the most part found her no longer asleep. Natasha was afraid to oversleep the time of matins. Hastily washing herself and humbly dressing in her worst dress and an old mantilla, shuddering with freshness, Natasha went out into the deserted streets, transparently lit by the morning dawn. On the advice of Agrafena Ivanovna, Natasha did not preach in her parish, but in the church, in which, according to the pious Belova, there was a priest of a very strict and high life. There were always few people in the church; Natasha and Belova stood in their usual place in front of the icon of the Mother of God, embedded in the back of the left choir, and Natasha’s new sense of humility in front of the great, incomprehensible, seized her when she, at this unusual hour in the morning, looking at the black face of the Mother of God, lit by candles burning in front of him, and the light of the morning falling from the window, she listened to the sounds of the service, which she tried to follow, understanding them. When she understood them, her personal feeling with its shades joined her prayer; when she did not understand, it was still sweeter for her to think that the desire to understand everything is pride, that it is impossible to understand everything, that one must only believe and surrender to God, who at that moment - she felt - ruled her soul. She crossed herself, bowed, and when she did not understand, she only, horrified by her abomination, asked God to forgive her for everything, for everything, and have mercy. The prayers to which she devoted herself most were the prayers of repentance. Returning home at the early hour of the morning, when there were only masons going to work, janitors sweeping the street, and everyone was still sleeping in the houses, Natasha experienced a new feeling for her of the possibility of correcting herself from her vices and the possibility of a new, pure life and happiness.

During the whole week in which she led this life, this feeling grew every day. And the happiness of communion or communication, as Agrafena Ivanovna said to her joyfully playing with this word, seemed to her so great that it seemed to her that she would not live to see this blessed Sunday.

But the happy day came, and when Natasha, on that memorable Sunday, in a white muslin dress, returned from communion, for the first time after many months she felt calm and unburdened by the life that lay ahead of her.

The doctor who came that day examined Natasha and ordered to continue the last powders that he prescribed two weeks ago.

It is imperative to continue - in the morning and in the evening, - he said, apparently himself conscientiously pleased with his success. - Just be careful, please. Be calm, countess, - the doctor said jokingly, deftly picking up the golden one in the flesh of his hand, - soon he will sing again and become frisky. Very, very much in favor of her last remedy. She brightened up a lot.

The countess looked at her nails and spat, returning to the living room with a cheerful face.

At the beginning of July, more and more disturbing rumors about the course of the war spread in Moscow: they talked about the sovereign's appeal to the people, about the arrival of the sovereign himself from the army to Moscow. And since the manifesto and appeal had not been received before July 11, exaggerated rumors circulated about them and about the situation in Russia. They said that the sovereign was leaving because the army was in danger, they said that Smolensk had been surrendered, that Napoleon had a million troops, and that only a miracle could save Russia.

July 11th, Saturday, the manifesto was received but not yet printed; and Pierre, who was with the Rostovs, promised the next day, on Sunday, to come to dinner and bring a manifesto and an appeal, which he would get from Count Rostopchin.

On this Sunday, the Rostovs, as usual, went to Mass at the house church of the Razumovskys. It was a hot July day. Already at ten o'clock, when the Rostovs got out of the carriage in front of the church, in the hot air, in the cries of peddlers, in the bright and light summer dresses of the crowd, in the dusty leaves of the trees of the boulevard, in the sounds of music and the white pantaloons of the battalion that passed for divorce, in the thunder of the pavement and In the bright glare of the hot sun there was that summer languor, contentment and dissatisfaction with the present, which is especially sharply felt on a clear hot day in the city. In the church of the Razumovskys there was all the nobility of Moscow, all the acquaintances of the Rostovs (this year, as if expecting something, a lot of wealthy families, usually moving around the villages, remained in the city). Passing behind the livery footman, who was parting the crowd near her mother, Natasha heard the voice of a young man speaking in a too loud whisper about her:

This is Rostov, the same one ...

How thin, but still good!

She heard, or it seemed to her, that the names of Kuragin and Bolkonsky were mentioned. However, it always seemed to her. It always seemed to her that everyone, looking at her, was only thinking about what had happened to her. Suffering and dying in her soul, as always in the crowd, Natasha walked in her purple silk dress with black lace in the way women know how to walk - the calmer and more majestic, the more painful and ashamed she felt in her soul. She knew and was not mistaken that she was good, but this did not please her now, as before. On the contrary, it tormented her most of all lately, and especially on this bright, hot summer day in the city. “Another Sunday, another week,” she said to herself, remembering how she had been here that Sunday, “and still the same life without life, and all the same conditions in which it used to be so easy to live before. She is good, young, and I know that now I am good, before I was bad, but now I am good, I know, she thought, but the best years pass in vain, for no one. She stood beside her mother and exchanged relations with close acquaintances. Natasha, out of habit, looked at the ladies' toilets, condemned the tenue [demeanor] and the indecent way of crossing herself with the hand in the small space of one standing close by, again thought with annoyance that they were judging her, that she was judging, and suddenly, hearing the sounds of the service, she was horrified at her vileness, horrified at the fact that her former purity was again lost by her.

The handsome, quiet old man served with that meek solemnity that has such a majestic, calming effect on the souls of those who pray. The royal doors closed, the veil slowly drew back; a mysterious quiet voice said something from there. Tears, incomprehensible to her, stood in Natasha's chest, and a joyful and agonizing feeling agitated her.

“Teach me what to do, how to improve myself forever, forever, how to deal with my life…” she thought.

The deacon went out to the pulpit, straightened out his long hair from under the surplice with his thumb wide apart, and, placing a cross on his chest, loudly and solemnly began to read the words of the prayer:

“Let us pray to the Lord for peace.”

“Peace, all together, without distinction of class, without enmity, and united by brotherly love, we will pray,” thought Natasha.

About the peace from above and about the salvation of our souls!

“About the world of angels and souls of all incorporeal beings that live above us,” Natasha prayed.

When they prayed for the army, she remembered her brother and Denisov. When they prayed for sailors and travelers, she remembered Prince Andrei and prayed for him, and prayed that God would forgive her the evil that she had done to him. When they prayed for those who love us, she prayed for her family, for her father, mother, Sonya, for the first time now realizing all her guilt before them and feeling all the strength of her love for them. When we prayed for those who hate us, she invented enemies and haters for herself in order to pray for them. She counted creditors and all those who had dealt with her father among the enemies, and every time she thought of enemies and haters, she remembered Anatole, who had done her so much evil, and although he was not a hater, she joyfully prayed for him as for enemy. Only during prayer did she feel able to clearly and calmly remember both Prince Andrei and Anatole, as people for whom her feelings were destroyed in comparison with her feeling of fear and reverence for God. When they prayed for the royal family and for the Synod, she bowed especially low and crossed herself, telling herself that if she did not understand, she could not doubt and still love the ruling Synod and pray for it.

Having finished the litany, the deacon crossed the orarion around his chest and said:

“Let us commit ourselves and our lives to Christ our God.”

“We will betray ourselves to God,” Natasha repeated in her soul. “My God, I commit myself to your will,” she thought. - I don't want anything, I don't want; teach me what to do, where to use my will! Yes, take me, take me! - Natasha said with touching impatience in her soul, without crossing herself, lowering her thin hands and as if expecting that an invisible force would take her and save her from herself, from her regrets, desires, reproaches, hopes and vices.

The Countess several times during the service looked back at the tender, with shining eyes, face of her daughter and prayed to God that he would help her.

Unexpectedly, in the middle and not in the order of the service, which Natasha knew well, the deacon brought out a stool, the same one on which kneeling prayers were read on Trinity Day, and placed it in front of the royal doors. The priest came out in his purple velvet skufi, straightened his hair, and with an effort knelt down. They all did the same and looked at each other in bewilderment. It was a prayer just received from the Synod, a prayer for the salvation of Russia from enemy invasion.

“Lord, God of strength, God of our salvation,” the priest began in that clear, unpompous and meek voice, which only spiritual Slavic readers read and which has such an irresistible effect on the Russian heart. - Lord God of strength, God of our salvation! Look now in mercy and bounty on your humble people, and hear philanthropicly, and have mercy, and have mercy on us. Behold the enemy, confuse your land and want to lay the whole world empty, rise up on us; all the people of iniquity have gathered, to destroy your property, to destroy your honest Jerusalem, your beloved Russia: to desecrate your temples, dig up altars and desecrate our shrine. How long, Lord, how long will sinners boast? How long do you use to have legal power?

Lord Lord! Hear us praying to you: strengthen with your strength the most pious, most autocratic great sovereign of our Emperor Alexander Pavlovich; remember his righteousness and meekness, reward him according to his goodness, which is what keeps us, your beloved Israel. Bless his advice, undertakings and deeds; establish with your almighty right hand his kingdom and give him victory over the enemy, as Moses against Amalek, Gideon against Midian and David against Goliath. Save his army; put the bow of copper on the muscles that have taken up arms in your name, and gird them with strength for battle. Take up arms and a shield, and rise up to help us, let them be ashamed and put to shame who think evil to us, let them be before the faithful army, like dust before the face of the wind, and let your strong angel insult and drive them; let a net come to them, but they will not know, and catch them, but hide them, let them embrace them; let them fall under the feet of your servants, and let them be trampled under our howl. God! it will not fail you to save in many and in small; thou art a god, let no man prevail against thee.

God our fathers! Remember your bounty and mercy, even from the ages: do not reject us from your face, disdain our unworthiness below, but have mercy on us according to your great mercy and, according to the multitude of your bounties, despise our iniquities and sins. Create a pure heart in us, and renew a right spirit in our womb; Strengthen us all with faith in you, affirm with hope, inspire with true love for each other, arm with unanimity for the righteous defense of obsession, even if you gave us and our father, so that the rod of the wicked does not ascend to the lot of the sanctified.

Lord our God, we believe in him and trust in him, do not disgrace us from the hope of your mercy and create a sign for the good, as if they see those who hate us and our Orthodox faith, and they will be put to shame and perish; and may all countries be taken away, for the name of you is the Lord, and we are your people. Show us, O Lord, now give us your mercy and your salvation; rejoice in the hearts of your servants about your mercy; strike our enemies, and crush them under the feet of your faithful soon. You are the intercession, help and victory of those who hope in you, and we send glory to you, father and son and holy spirit, now and forever, and forever and ever. Amen".

In the state of spiritual openness in which Natasha was, this prayer had a strong effect on her. She listened to every word about the victory of Moses against Amalek, and Gideon against Midian, and David against Goliath, and about the destruction of your Jerusalem, and asked God with that tenderness and softness with which her heart was overflowing; but she did not understand well what she was asking God for in that prayer. She wholeheartedly participated in the petition for a right spirit, for the strengthening of the heart with faith, hope, and for inspiring them with love. But she could not pray for the trampling of her enemies under her feet, when a few minutes before that she only wished to have more of them, to love them, to pray for them. But she, too, could not doubt the correctness of the kneeling prayer read. She felt in her soul a reverent and trembling horror before the punishment that befell people for their sins, and especially for her sins, and asked God to forgive them all and her and give them all and her peace and happiness in life. . And it seemed to her that God heard her prayer.

From the day Pierre, leaving the Rostovs and remembering Natasha's grateful look, looked at the comet standing in the sky and felt that something new had opened up for him, the question of the futility and madness of everything earthly that had always tormented him ceased to present itself to him. . This terrible question: why? for what? - which had previously presented itself to him in the middle of every lesson, was now replaced for him not by another question and not by an answer to the former question, but by the presentation her. Whether he heard, and whether he himself carried on insignificant conversations, whether he read, or found out about the meanness and senselessness of human beings, he was not horrified, as before; he did not ask himself why people were busy when everything was so brief and unknown, but he remembered her in the form in which he saw her for the last time, and all his doubts disappeared, not because she answered the questions that presented themselves to him , but because the idea of her instantly transferred him to another, bright area of mental activity, in which there could be no right or wrong, to the area of \u200b\u200bbeauty and love, for which it was worth living. Whatever the abomination of life seemed to him, he said to himself:

“Well, let such and such rob the state and the king, and the state and the king pay him honors; and yesterday she smiled at me and asked me to come, and I love her, and no one will ever know this, ”he thought.

Pierre still went to society, drank just as much and led the same idle and distracted life, because, in addition to those hours that he spent with the Rostovs, he had to spend the rest of the time, and the habits and acquaintances he made in Moscow , irresistibly attracted him to the life that captured him. But lately, when more and more disturbing rumors came from the theater of war, and when Natasha's health began to improve and she ceased to arouse in him the former feeling of thrifty pity, he began to be seized by more and more incomprehensible restlessness. He felt that the position he was in could not last long, that a catastrophe was coming that was to change his whole life, and he looked impatiently for signs of this approaching catastrophe in everything. One of the Masonic brothers revealed to Pierre the following prophecy, derived from the Apocalypse of John the Evangelist, regarding Napoleon.

In the Apocalypse, chapter thirteen, verse eighteen, it is said: “Here is wisdom; whoever has a mind, let him honor the number of the beast: for the number of man is and his number is six hundred and sixty-six.

And the same chapter in verse five: “And the mouth was given to him saying great and blasphemous; and a region was given to him to create four months - ten two months.

French letters, like the Hebrew number-image, according to which the first ten letters are units, and the other tens, have the following meaning:

a b c d e f g h i k.. l..m..n..o..p..q..r..s..t.. u…v w.. x.. y.. z

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 20 30 40 50 60 70 80 90 100 110 120 130 140 150 160

By writing in this alphabet in numbers the words L "empereur Napol

On the eve of the Sunday on which the prayer was read, Pierre promised the Rostovs to bring them from Count Rostopchin, with whom he was well acquainted, both an appeal to Russia and the latest news from the army. In the morning, having called on Count Rostopchin, Pierre found a courier from the army who had just arrived at his place.

The courier was one of the Moscow ballroom dancers familiar to Pierre.

For God's sake, can you relieve me? - said the courier, - I have a bag full of letters to my parents.

Among these letters was a letter from Nikolai Rostov to his father. Pierre took this letter. In addition, Count Rostopchin gave Pierre the sovereign's appeal to Moscow, just printed, the last orders for the army and his last poster. After reviewing the orders for the army, Pierre found in one of them, between the news of the wounded, killed and awarded, the name of Nikolai Rostov, awarded George 4th degree for his bravery in the Ostrovnensky case, and in the same order the appointment of Prince Andrei Bolkonsky commander of the Jaeger regiment. Although he did not want to remind the Rostovs of Bolkonsky, Pierre could not refrain from wishing to please them with the news of his son's award and, leaving the appeal, the poster and other orders with him, in order to bring them to dinner himself, sent a printed order and a letter to Rostov.

A conversation with Count Rostopchin, his tone of concern and haste, a meeting with a courier who carelessly talked about how bad things were going in the army, rumors about spies found in Moscow, about a paper circulating around Moscow, which says that Napoleon promises to to be in both Russian capitals, the conversation about the expected arrival of the sovereign tomorrow - all this with renewed vigor aroused in Pierre that feeling of excitement and expectation that had not left him since the appearance of the comet, and especially since the beginning of the war.

Pierre had long had the idea to enter the military service, and he would have fulfilled it if it had not interfered with him, firstly, his belonging to that Masonic society with which he was bound by oath and which preached eternal peace and the abolition of war, and, secondly, the fact that he, looking at a large number of Muscovites who put on uniforms and preached patriotism, was for some reason ashamed to take such a step. The main reason why he did not fulfill his intention to enter the military service was the vague idea that he was l "Russe Besuhof, having the meaning of the animal number 666, that his participation in the great cause of the position of the limit of power the beast the one who speaks is great and blasphemous, predetermined from eternity, and that therefore he should not undertake anything and wait for what should be done.

End of free trial.