Chapter 10 chapter Ten

In the early hours of the 16th, the cavalry company under the command of Denisov, who belonged to Prince Bagration's contingent in which Nikolai Rostov served, set off from the camp for a campaign, and it is said that the cavalry company followed The other columns had ridden a mile or so later, when they were blocked on the main road and stopped advancing.Rostov saw Cossacks, the 1st and 2nd hussar companies, and infantry battalions with artillery advancing by him.Generals Bagration and Dolgorukov rode by with their adjutants on horseback.The fear he had endured before the battle as before, the inner struggle he had had to overcome it, his ideal of being a hussar to be honored in this battle, all this was in vain.Their cavalry company was left in reserve, and Nikolai Rostov passed the day in dismay.At eight o'clock in the morning, he heard the gunshots ahead, the sound of "Hurrah", he saw the wounded soldiers returning from the front (they were not many), and finally he saw hundreds of Cossacks escorting a detachment of French troops on the way. cavalry.Obviously this battle is over, and obviously the scale of the battle is not large, but it can be said to be an immediate success.Officers and soldiers returning from the front told of glorious victories, the capture of the city of Visau, and the capture of a whole company of French cavalry.After a night of frost, the day's weather was clear, sunny and pleasant autumn and the good news of victory, not only the officers and men who participated in the battle spread the good news of victory, but also those who rode to and from Rostov on horseback The facial expressions of the soldiers, officers, generals and adjutants running around also revealed the news.This made Nikolai's heart ache even more acutely, and he had vainly endured the terror before a battle, and he was passive and inactive on this happy day.

"Come here, Rostov, let's have a drink and relieve our worries!" cried Denisov, and sat down on the side of the road, with a military kettle and cold dishes to accompany the wine before him. Several officers formed a circle around Denisov's vegetable canister and chatted with each other over cold dishes. "Look, here's another one!" said an officer, pointing to a captured French dragoon escorted by two Cossack infantry. One of them was leading a large and beautiful French war-horse taken from a captive. "Sell the horse!" Denisov yelled at the Cossack.

"My lord, well..." The officers stood up and surrounded several Cossacks and a captured Frenchman.The French Dragoon is a fine lad, Alsatian, speaking French with a German accent.Out of breath and flushed with excitement, he turned his face now from one officer to the other when he heard French, and began to speak hastily.He said that he could not have been caught, that it was not his fault that he had been caught, but that it was the fault of Lecapoval (the squad leader) who had sent him to fetch the quilt, and that the Russians were already there, he told him.He adds a sentence to each sentence: Maisqu'onnefassepas demalamonpetit

cheval, ① while stroking his horse.It can be seen that he does not quite understand where he is.Sometimes he thinks that his capture can be forgiven, and sometimes he thinks that his chief is in front of him, and he expresses to the chief the diligence of his soldiers and his concern for duty.He brought to our rearguard the new atmosphere of the French army, which was alien to us. -------- ①French: Have mercy on my pony. Some Cossacks sold a horse for two gold rubles.Rostov, who received money from his family and was now one of the wealthiest men in the army, bought the horse. "Maisqu'onne fasse pas de ma la mon petitcheval" said the Alsatian kindly to Rostov when the horse had been handed over to the hussars.

-------- ① French: have mercy on the pony. Rostov smiled, comforted the dragoon, and gave him the money. "Hey, hey, let's go!" said the Cossack soldier, touching the captive's arm, telling him to go on. "King! King!" suddenly there was a shout among the hussars. They all began to trot, in a hurry, and Rostov saw several riders with white caps approaching on the road behind him.Everyone stayed where they were and waited. Rostov neither remembered nor felt how he got there and mounted his steed.The regret he felt for not being in the battle, the dryness he felt among people who were tired of watching him, disappeared in an instant, and all thoughts of self-seeking disappeared in an instant.A sense of happiness at the imminent arrival of the king almost engulfed him.He felt he had wasted the day, only to be compensated for the imminent arrival of the king.He felt very happy, like a lover waiting for a long-awaited date.He dared not look around in the queue, and though he did not look left and right, he smelt his approach with a sense of carnival.He felt this way not only because he heard the clopping hooves of the approaching riders, but because, with the king's presence, his surroundings seemed brighter, more cheerful, more significant, and More festive.The sun in Rostov's mind was getting closer and closer to him, and it radiated gentle and magnificent light around him. At last he felt that he was enveloped by this light. He heard the voice of the king. A gentle and calm, solemn and simple voice.In keeping with Rostov's premonition, a deathly silence fell, and in this silence the king's voice could be heard.

"Leshuzavds de Pavlograd?" he said doubtfully. "Laresrve, sire!" can be heard in the voice of someone answering, how ordinary the voice of the man's answer is after the extraordinary man has said the words "Leshuzaids de Panluqvad?" -------- ①French: Is it the hussars of the Paulograd Corps? ② French: Your Majesty, it is the reserve team. The king stopped near Rostov.Alexander's complexion is even better than when he reviewed it three days ago.The face glowed with the radiance of joyful youth, the radiance of a pure youth that reminds one of the playfulness of a child of fourteen, and it was, after all, the face of a majestic emperor.Occasionally, the Emperor's eyes glanced at the cavalry company, and his eyes met Rostov's, for at most two seconds.Whether the king understood Rostov's state of mind (Rostov felt that he understood everything), but he looked at Rostov's face with his blue eyes for about two seconds (his eyes showed a gentle light).Then he suddenly raised his eyebrows, kicked the horse with his left leg, and galloped forward.

The young emperor couldn't hold back, he really wanted to join the battle, and despite the repeated advice of his courtiers, he left the third column behind him at twelve o'clock and galloped towards the rear guard.Before the adjutants could catch up with the hussars, they came to meet the king with the news that the battle was successfully concluded. This battle, in which only one company of French cavalry was captured, was considered a brilliant victory over the French army. Therefore, the monarch and the whole army, especially when the smoke on the battlefield had not dissipated, were convinced that the French army was defeated and had to retreat.Within minutes of the king's passing, they called upon the cavalry battalions of Paulograd's regiment to advance.In Visau, a small town in Germany, Rostov once again saw the king.Before the king's arrival there had been a rather violent exchange of fire in the town square, where lay several dead bodies which had not been removed in time, and several wounded soldiers.Surrounded by a group of civil and military attendants, the king rode a bay mare of British style, which was different from the one he rode in the military parade. He leaned sideways, holding on to the monocular with that graceful posture, and raised it to his eyes. He kept looking at the soldier lying on the ground, not wearing a tall military cap, with blood dripping from his head.The wounded soldier was very unkempt, rough, and repulsive, and Rostov was deeply offended by his presence in the king's vicinity.Rostov saw that the king's slightly bent shoulders trembled, as if in a shudder, and saw his left foot begin to stab the horse's side convulsively with spurs, and the trained horse looked indifferently. , it stays where it is.An adjutant dismounted, helped the soldier up, and placed him on the stretcher in front of him, whereupon the soldier groaned.

"Be quiet, be quiet, can't you be quiet?" The king looked more uncomfortable than the dying soldier, so he rode away. Rostov saw tears welling up in the king's eyes, and heard him say to Czartoryzhsky in French as he was going away: "What a dreadful thing war is, what a dreadful thing! quelleter-riblechosequelaguerre!" -------- ① French: What a terrible thing war is. Within a day, the enemy's skirmisher line gave way to our side when there was no violent exchange of fire, so our advance guard camped in front of the city of Visau.The king thanked the advance guard and promised awards, giving each of them two shots of vodka.At this time, everyone felt happier than on the eve. The campfire crackled and the soldiers sang.Denisov was celebrating his promotion to major officer that night, Rostov had already drunk quite a lot, and at the end of the banquet he toasted the health of the King (not His Majesty the Emperor), as is said at official banquets Different, he said, "To the health of the gracious, great, and admirable King, we drink to his health, and to the victory of our army and the defeat of the French!"

"Since we've fought before," he said, "and didn't let the Frenchman go, just like the battle at Schon Graben. What's going to happen now that the king is leading the battle? We're all going to die, gladly." Died for him. Gentlemen, don't you? Maybe I don't say it, I've had too much to drink, but I feel it and you feel it too. To the health of Alexander I! Hurrah!" "Hurrah!" could be heard shouting enthusiastically from the officers. The old cavalry captain Kiels shouted passionately, which sounded more sincere than that of the twenty-year-old Rostov.

The officers finished their drinks and broke their glasses, and Keirs, who was wearing only a shirt and breeches and holding a glass in his hand, filled the others and walked towards the soldiers' bonfire, pretending to be He made a solemn posture and waved his hands. He had a long gray mustache on his face, and his white chest was exposed from an open shirt, and he stopped under the light of the campfire. "Guys, let's drink to the health of His Majesty the Emperor and to the victory over the enemy, Ulla!" he shouted in the baritone voice of a valiant old hussar. The hussars gathered together and responded with a loud shout.

In the middle of the night when everyone had dispersed, Denisov patted his friend Rostov on the shoulder with a short hand. "No one is cute on the journey, he fell in love with the Tsar." He said. "My friend, I believe, I believe, I feel the same, applaud..." "No, you don't understand!" Rostov got up, walked forward, wandered among the bonfires, and thought to himself that if he could die for the king, he would die not in saving the king (he dared not think of it), but in the sight of the king. What happiness that should be.He was indeed in love with the Tsar, cherished the glory of the Russian Armed Forces, cherished the hope of a future triumph.He was not alone in experiencing this feeling in those memorable days before the Battle of Austerlitz, nine out of ten soldiers in the Russian army loved their own Tsar and cherished the glory of the Russian Armed Forces, although Not to that degree of fanaticism.