The behavior of Prince Andrew in the battle of Austerlitz. Battle of Austerlitz in the novel "War and Peace"

/ / / Andrei Bolkonsky on the battlefield near Austerlitz (analysis of an episode from Tolstoy's novel "War and Peace")

The novel "War and Peace" is filled with diverse characters who have individual characters, who are endowed with their own exclusively personal beliefs. And all this is thanks to the talent and skill of the author, who was not only a successful writer, but also a wonderful psychologist.

In the text of the novel, the reader encounters the image of Prince Andrei, which, according to the first idea, was supposed to become a secondary image. However, in the course of writing the novel, Lev Nikolayevich determines the main role for Bolkonsky, makes him an active figure throughout the entire work.

At the very beginning of the novel, he is depicted as a protester. He resists everything that surrounds him. According to Andrei, secular society, and everything that surrounds it, simply stopped in development. The hero wants to get away from this, to break free, to become further and higher than the ordinary. For this reason, Andrei sets a goal for himself - to accomplish a military feat, to become famous. Napoleon himself becomes a role model for Bolkonsky.

The day of the Battle of Austerlitz is extremely important for the protagonist. Andrey's ambitious plans are not realized. A real turning point is taking place in his soul, which will entail a change in the prince's worldview, his rethinking of life and the search for a new truth.

Reading the episode of the battle, the reader is transported to the area of ​​Pratsezhnaya Gora. Prince Andrei fell there, he was wounded. Now, his head is completely unoccupied with thoughts of battle. Peering into the sky, the hero realized that he knew nothing about this life before.

Being in this state, Bolkonsky was able to rethink his attitude towards Napoleon. Warriors ran past the prince. But the voice of his idol was heard from afar. Only now Napoleon seemed like a small, insignificant person, a vain and cruel leader who could enjoy the misfortune of others.

Andrew's soul was filled with inexplicable sensations. The desire to accomplish a military feat was destroyed. Bolkonsky was at a loss. However, the high sky gave peace. Bolkonsky realized that happiness must be sought elsewhere. Now the hero thought about the Almighty, about his family, about his wife and son. The thought of calm home comfort took possession of him. She gave him pleasure.

Being on the verge of death, a complete rethinking of life takes place in the hero. He refuses military service and is more interested in his family.

The episode of the battle near Austerlitz reveals to readers a completely different Bolkonsky, explains the reason for his internal fracture. Of course, Prince Andrei's thoughts about life and death, about the most important values ​​in life make us think about the same questions.

Battle of Austerlitz.

"Soldiers! The Russian army comes out against you to avenge the Austrian, Ulm army. These are the same battalions which you defeated at Gollabrunn and which you have been constantly pursuing to this place ever since. The positions we occupy are powerful, and as long as they go to get around me on the right, they will expose me to the flank! Soldiers! I myself will lead your battalions. I will keep far from the fire if you, with your usual courage, bring disorder and confusion into the ranks of the enemy; but if victory is even for a moment doubtful, you will see your emperor exposed to the first blows of the enemy, because there can be no hesitation in victory, especially on a day when the honor of the French infantry, which is so necessary for the honor of his nation, is at issue.

Under the pretext of withdrawing the wounded, do not upset the ranks! Let everyone be fully imbued with the idea that it is necessary to defeat these mercenaries of England, inspired by such hatred against our nation. This victory will end our march, and we may return to our winter quarters, where we shall be found by the new French troops which are being formed in France; and then the peace I will make will be worthy of my people, you and me.

“At five o’clock in the morning it was still completely dark. The troops of the center, reserves and the right flank of Bagration were still standing motionless, but on the left flank the columns of infantry, cavalry and artillery, which were supposed to be the first to descend from the heights, in order to attack the French right flank and push it back, according to the disposition, to the Bohemian mountains, they were already stirring and began to rise from their lodgings. The smoke from the fires into which they threw everything superfluous ate the eyes. It was cold and dark. The officers hurriedly drank tea and had breakfast, the soldiers chewed crackers, beat the shot with their feet, warming themselves , and flocked against the fires, throwing the remains of booths, chairs, tables, wheels, tubs, everything superfluous that could not be taken with them into the firewood. The Austrian columnists scurried between the Russian troops and served as harbingers of the performance. , the regiment began to move: the soldiers ran away from the fires, hid tubes in their tops, bags in carts, disassembled their guns and lined up. the officers buttoned up, put on their swords and knapsacks, and, shouting, went around the ranks; convoys and batmen harnessed, stacked and tied the wagons. Adjutants, battalion and regimental commanders mounted on horseback, crossed themselves, gave their last orders, instructions and assignments to the remaining convoys, and the monotonous tramp of a thousand feet sounded. The columns moved, not knowing where and not seeing from the surrounding people, from the smoke and from the growing fog, neither the area from which they left, nor the one into which they entered.

A soldier on the move is just as encircled, constrained, and drawn by his regiment, as a sailor is by the ship on which he is. No matter how far he goes, no matter how strange, unknown and dangerous latitudes he enters, around him - as for a sailor, always and everywhere the same decks, masts, ropes of his ship - always and everywhere the same comrades, the same rows, the same sergeant major Ivan Mitrich, the same company dog ​​Zhuchka, the same bosses. A soldier rarely wants to know the latitudes in which his whole ship is located; but on the day of the battle, God knows how and from where, in the moral world of the troops one stern note is heard for all, which sounds like the approach of something decisive and solemn and arouses them to an unusual curiosity. Soldiers in the days of battles excitedly try to get out of the interests of their regiment, listen, look closely and eagerly ask about what is happening around them.

The fog became so strong that, despite the fact that it was dawning, it was not visible ten paces ahead. The bushes looked like huge trees, the flat places looked like precipices and slopes. Everywhere, from all sides, one could encounter an enemy invisible ten paces away. But for a long time the columns walked in the same fog, descending and ascending the mountains, bypassing gardens and fences, across new, incomprehensible terrain, nowhere colliding with the enemy. On the contrary, now in front, now behind, from all sides, the soldiers learned that our Russian columns were moving in the same direction. Each soldier was pleased at heart because he knew that where he was going, that is, no one knows where, there were still many, many of ours.

"Although none of the column commanders drove up to the ranks and did not speak with the soldiers (the column commanders, as we saw at the military council, were out of sorts and dissatisfied with the work being undertaken, and therefore only carried out orders and did not care about amusing the soldiers), in spite of the fact that the soldiers marched merrily, as they always did, going into action, especially in the offensive, but, after marching through dense fog for about an hour, most of the troops had to stop, and an unpleasant consciousness of disorder and confusion swept through the ranks. this consciousness is transmitted is very difficult to determine, but there is no doubt that it is transmitted unusually accurately and quickly spreads, imperceptibly and irresistibly, like water in a hollow.If the Russian army were alone, without allies, then perhaps a lot of time would have passed until this awareness of the disorder would become a general certainty; but now, with particular pleasure and naturalness, attributing the cause of the disorder to the stupid Germans, he convinced everyone The bottom line is that there is a harmful confusion that sausage-makers have made."

"The reason for the confusion was that during the movement of the Austrian cavalry, marching on the left flank, the higher authorities found that our center was too far from the right flank, and the whole cavalry was ordered to move to the right side. Several thousand cavalry advanced in front of the infantry, and the infantry had to wait.

Ahead there was a clash between an Austrian column leader and a Russian general. The Russian general shouted, demanding that the cavalry be stopped; the Austrian argued that it was not he who was to blame, but the higher authorities. Meanwhile, the troops stood, bored and discouraged. After an hour's delay, the troops finally moved on and began to descend downhill. The mist that dispersed on the mountain only spread thicker in the lower parts, where the troops descended. Ahead, in the fog, one shot, another shot rang out, at first awkwardly, at different intervals: waste-ta ... tat, and then more and more smoothly and more often, and the affair began over the Goldbach River.

Not expecting to meet the enemy below over the river and accidentally stumbling upon him in the fog, not hearing a word of inspiration from the highest commanders, with the consciousness spreading through the troops that it was too late, and, most importantly, in thick fog not seeing anything ahead and around them, the Russians lazily and slowly exchanged fire with the enemy, moved forward and stopped again, not receiving orders in time from the commanders and adjutants, who wandered through the fog in an unfamiliar area, not finding their troops. Thus began the case for the first, second and third columns, which went down. The fourth column, with which Kutuzov himself was, stood on the Pratsen Heights.

There was still thick fog downstairs, where the affair had begun, and it cleared up above, but nothing of what was going on ahead could be seen. Whether all the enemy forces were, as we assumed, ten miles away from us, or whether he was here, in this line of fog, no one knew until nine o'clock.

It was nine o'clock in the morning. Fog spread like a continuous sea below, but at the village of Shlapanitsa, at the height on which Napoleon stood, surrounded by his marshals, it was completely light. Above him was a clear blue sky, and a huge ball of the sun, like a huge hollow crimson float, swayed on the surface of a milky sea of ​​fog. Not only all the French troops, but Napoleon himself with his headquarters were not on the other side of the streams and the lower villages of Sokolnits and Shlapanits, behind which we intended to take a position and start business, but on this side, so close to our troops that Napoleon with a simple eye could in our army to distinguish horse from foot. Napoleon stood a little ahead of his marshals on a small gray Arabian horse, in a blue greatcoat, in the same one in which he made the Italian campaign. He silently peered into the hills, which seemed to emerge from a sea of ​​fog and along which Russian troops were moving in the distance, and listened to the sounds of shooting in the hollow. At that time, his still thin face did not move a single muscle; shining eyes were fixed fixedly on one place. His guess turned out to be correct. Part of the Russian troops had already descended into the hollow to the ponds and lakes, partly they were clearing those Pratsensky heights, which he intended to attack and considered the key to the position. In the midst of the fog, in the depression made up by two mountains near the village of Prats, all Russian columns were moving in the same direction towards the hollows, flashing their bayonets, and one after another they were hiding in a sea of ​​fog. According to the information he had received in the evening, from the sounds of wheels and steps heard at night at outposts, from the disorderly movement of Russian columns, according to all assumptions, he clearly saw that the Allies considered him far ahead of them, that the columns moving near Pratsen constituted the center of the Russian army and that the center is already sufficiently weakened to successfully attack it. But he still hasn't started the business.

Today was a solemn day for him - the anniversary of his coronation. Before morning, he dozed off for several hours and, healthy, cheerful, fresh, in that happy state of mind in which everything seems possible and everything succeeds, mounted his horse and rode into the field. He stood motionless, looking at the heights visible through the fog, and on his cold face there was that special shade of self-confident, well-deserved happiness that happens on the face of a boy in love and happy. The marshals stood behind him and did not dare to divert his attention. He looked now at the Pracen Heights, now at the sun emerging from the mist.

When the sun was completely out of the fog and splashed with a blinding brilliance over the fields and fog (as if he had only been waiting for this to start the business), he removed the glove from his beautiful white hand, made a sign to the marshals with it and gave the order to start the business. The marshals, accompanied by adjutants, galloped in different directions, and after a few minutes the main forces of the French army quickly moved to those Pratsensky heights, which were more and more cleared by Russian troops descending to the left into the hollow.

“To the left below, in the fog, a skirmish was heard between invisible troops. There, it seemed to Prince Andrei, the battle would be concentrated, an obstacle would be encountered there, and “I will be sent there,” he thought, “with a brigade or division, and there with with a banner in my hand, I will go forward and break everything that is in front of me.

Prince Andrei could not look indifferently at the banners of the passing battalions. Looking at the banner, he kept thinking: maybe this is the same banner with which I will have to go ahead of the troops.

“Prince Andrey with a simple eye saw a dense column of Frenchmen rising to the right towards the Apsheronians, no further than five hundred paces from the place where Kutuzov was standing.

"Here it is!" - thought Prince Andrei, grabbing the flagpole and hearing with pleasure the whistle of bullets, obviously directed specifically against him. Several soldiers fell.

- Hooray! - shouted Prince Andrei, barely holding the heavy banner in his hands, and ran forward with undoubted confidence that the whole battalion would run after him.

Indeed, he ran only a few steps alone. One, another soldier set off, and the whole battalion shouted "Hurrah!" ran ahead and overtook him. The non-commissioned officer of the battalion, running up, took the banner that wavered from the weight in the hands of Prince Andrei, but was immediately killed. Prince Andrei again grabbed the banner and, dragging it by the shaft, fled with the battalion. In front of him, he saw our gunners, some of whom were fighting, others were throwing their cannons and running towards him; he also saw French infantry soldiers seizing artillery horses and turning the cannons. Prince Andrei with the battalion was already twenty paces from the guns. He heard the unceasing whistle of bullets above him, and the soldiers to the right and left of him ceaselessly groaned and fell. But he did not look at them; he peered only at what was happening in front of him - on the battery. He clearly saw already one figure of a red-haired artilleryman with a shako knocked to one side, pulling a bannik from one side, while a French soldier was pulling a bannik towards him from the other side. Prince Andrei already saw the clearly bewildered and at the same time embittered expression on the faces of these two people, who apparently did not understand what they were doing.

"What are they doing? thought Prince Andrei, looking at them. “Why doesn’t the red-haired artilleryman run when he has no weapons?” Why doesn't the Frenchman prick him? Before he has time to run, the Frenchman will remember the gun and stab him.”

Indeed, another Frenchman, with a gun at the ready, ran up to the fighters, and the fate of the red-haired gunner, who still did not understand what awaited him, and triumphantly pulled out a banner, was to be decided. But Prince Andrei did not see how it ended. As if with a full swing with a strong stick, one of the nearest soldiers, as it seemed to him, hit him in the head. It hurt a little, and most importantly, unpleasant, because this pain entertained him and prevented him from seeing what he was looking at.

"What is it? I'm falling? my legs give way, ”he thought, and fell on his back. He opened his eyes, hoping to see how the fight between the French and the artillerymen ended, and wishing to know whether the red-haired artilleryman had been killed or not, whether the guns had been taken or saved. But he didn't take anything. Above him there was nothing now but the sky—a high sky, not clear, but still immeasurably high, with gray clouds quietly creeping across it. “How quiet, calm and solemn, not at all the way I ran,” thought Prince Andrei, “not the way we ran, shouted and fought; not in the same way as the Frenchman and the artilleryman dragged each other's bannik with angry and frightened faces - not at all like the clouds crawling across this high, endless sky. How could I not have seen this lofty sky before? And how happy I am that I finally got to know him. Yes! everything is empty, everything is a lie, except for this endless sky. Nothing, nothing but him. But even that is not even there, there is nothing but silence, calmness. And thank God!.."

“Now it doesn’t matter! If the sovereign is wounded, should I take care of myself?” he thought. He drove into the space where most of the people who fled from Pracen died. The French had not yet occupied this place, and the Russians, those who were alive or wounded, had long since left him. On the field, like shocks on a good arable land, there were ten to fifteen people killed, wounded on each tithe of the place. The wounded crawled down two, three together, and unpleasant, sometimes feigned, as it seemed to Rostov, their cries and groans were heard. Rostov let his horse trot so as not to see all these suffering people, and he became frightened, not for his own life, but for the courage he needed and which, he knew, would not withstand the sight of these unfortunates.

In the village of Gostieradeke there were, although confused, but in greater order, Russian troops marching away from the battlefield. French cannonballs were no longer reaching here, and the sounds of firing seemed far away. Here everyone already clearly saw and said that the battle was lost. To whom Rostov turned, no one could tell him where the sovereign was, or where Kutuzov was. Some said that the rumor about the wound of the sovereign was true, others said that it was not, and explained this false rumor that had spread by the fact that, indeed, in the sovereign’s carriage, the pale and frightened Chief Marshal Count Tolstoy galloped back from the battlefield, who rode with others in the emperor’s retinue to battlefield. One officer told Rostov that behind the village to the left he saw someone from the higher authorities, and Rostov went there, no longer hoping to find anyone, but only to clear his conscience before himself. Having traveled about three versts and passed the last Russian troops, Rostov saw near the garden, dug in by a ditch, two horsemen standing opposite the ditch. One, with a white sultan on his hat, seemed somehow familiar to Rostov; another, an unfamiliar rider, on a beautiful red horse (this horse seemed familiar to Rostov), ​​rode up to the ditch, pushed the horse with his spurs and, releasing the reins, easily jumped over the ditch of the garden. Only the earth crumbled from the embankment from the hind hooves of the horse. Turning his horse sharply, he again jumped back over the ditch and respectfully addressed the rider with the white sultan, apparently suggesting that he do the same. The horseman, whose figure, having seemed familiar to Rostov, for some reason involuntarily attracted his attention, made a negative gesture with his head and hand, and by this gesture Rostov instantly recognized his mourned adored sovereign.

“But it couldn’t be him, alone in the middle of this empty field,” thought Rostov. At this time, Alexander turned his head, and Rostov saw his favorite features so vividly engraved in his memory. The sovereign was pale, his cheeks were sunken and his eyes were sunken; but all the more charm, meekness was in his features. Rostov was happy, convinced that the rumor about the wound of the sovereign was unfair. He was happy to see him. He knew that he could, even had to directly address him and convey what he was ordered to convey from Dolgorukov.

"How! I seem to be glad of the opportunity to take advantage of the fact that he is alone and in despondency. An unknown face may seem unpleasant and heavy to him at this moment of sadness, and then, what can I say to him now, when at the mere glance of him my heart stops and my mouth dries up? Not a single one of those innumerable speeches that he, addressing the sovereign, composed in his imagination, now occurred to him. Those speeches were for the most part held under completely different conditions, those were spoken for the most part in moments of victories and triumphs and mainly on his deathbed from his wounds, while the sovereign thanked him for his heroic deeds and he, dying, expressed his love confirmed in deeds .

“Then, what am I going to ask the sovereign about his orders to the right flank, when it is already four in the evening and the battle is lost? No, I must definitely not drive up to him, I must not disturb his thoughtfulness. It’s better to die a thousand times than to get a bad look, a bad opinion from him, ”Rostov decided, and with sadness and despair in his heart he drove away, constantly looking back at the sovereign, who was still in the same position of indecision.

While Rostov was making these considerations and sadly driving away from the sovereign, Captain von Toll accidentally ran into the same place and, seeing the sovereign, drove straight up to him, offered him his services and helped him cross the ditch on foot. The sovereign, wanting to rest and feeling unwell, sat down under an apple tree, and Toll stopped beside him. Rostov from afar, with envy and remorse, saw von Tol say something to the sovereign for a long time and with fervor, as the sovereign, apparently crying, closed his eyes with his hand and shook hands with Tolya.

“And I could be in his place!” Rostov thought to himself, and, barely holding back tears of regret for the fate of the sovereign, he drove on in complete despair, not knowing where and why he was now going.

"At five o'clock in the evening the battle was lost at all points. More than a hundred guns were already in the hands of the French.

Przhebyshevsky and his corps laid down their weapons. The other columns, having lost about half their men, retreated in disorganized, mixed crowds.

The remnants of the troops of Langeron and Dokhturov, mixed up, crowded around the ponds on the dams and banks near the village of Augusta.

At six o'clock, only at the Augusta dam, the hot cannonade of some Frenchmen could still be heard, who built numerous batteries on the descent of the Pracen Heights and beat on our retreating troops.

“Where is it, this high sky, which I did not know until now and saw today? was his first thought. “And I did not know this suffering either,” he thought. “Yes, and nothing, I didn’t know anything until now. But where am I?

He began to listen and heard the sounds of the approaching stomp of horses and the sounds of voices speaking in French. He opened his eyes. Above him was again the same high sky with still higher floating clouds, through which a blue infinity could be seen. He did not turn his head and did not see those who, judging by the sound of hooves and voices, drove up to him and stopped.

The riders who arrived were Napoleon, accompanied by two adjutants. Bonaparte, circling the battlefield, gave the last orders to reinforce the batteries firing at the Augusta dam, and examined the dead and wounded who remained on the battlefield.

- De beaux hommes! - said Napoleon, looking at the dead Russian grenadier, who, with his face buried in the ground and a blackened nape, was lying on his stomach, throwing back one already stiffened arm.

– Les munitions des pièces de position sont épuisées, sire! - said at that time the adjutant, who had arrived from the batteries firing at August.

“Faites avancer celles de la réserve,” said Napoleon, and, having driven off a few steps, he stopped over Prince Andrei, who was lying on his back with a banner pole thrown beside him (the banner had already been taken by the French like a trophy).

“Voilà une belle mort,” said Napoleon, looking at Bolkonsky.

Prince Andrei understood that this was said about him and that Napoleon was talking about it. He heard the name sire of the one who said these words. But he heard these words as if he heard the buzzing of a fly. Not only was he not interested in them, but he did not notice them, and immediately forgot them. His head burned; he felt that he was bleeding, and he saw above him a distant, lofty and eternal sky. He knew that it was Napoleon - his hero, but at that moment Napoleon seemed to him such a small, insignificant person in comparison with what was now happening between his soul and this high, endless sky with clouds running across it. It was absolutely indifferent to him at that moment, no matter who was standing over him, no matter what they said about him; he was only glad that people had stopped over him, and only wished that these people would help him and bring him back to life, which seemed to him so beautiful, because he understood it in such a different way now. He gathered all his strength to move and make some kind of sound. He feebly moved his leg and produced a pitiful, weak, painful groan.

- BUT! he is alive,” said Napoleon. “Raise this young man, ce jeune homme, and carry him to the dressing station!”

Prince Andrei did not remember anything further: he lost consciousness from the terrible pain that was caused to him by laying on a stretcher, jolts while moving and probing the wound at the dressing station. He woke up only at the end of the day, when he, having been connected with other Russian wounded and captured officers, was carried to the hospital. On this movement, he felt somewhat fresher and could look around and even talk.

To the question Hello everyone, I need help with Literature! "War and Peace" given by the author Ivashka the best answer is On the Field of Austerlitz, Prince Andrei Bolkonsky accomplished a feat - it was, albeit an insignificant feat, when he took the banner and dragged people along with him. But it seems to me that his own feat seemed insignificant to him after the sky above his head, seen after the wound .... Internal feat - having seen the sky, to reject former beliefs and all the vanity of life ....
Useful phrases:
During the Battle of Austerlitz, Andrei Bolkonsky fully begins to see clearly. He manages to accomplish a small feat. During the retreat, the prince grabs the banner and, by his example, encourages those standing nearby to rush to the attack. It is interesting that he does not carry the banner high above him, but drags it by the shaft, shouting “Guys, go ahead! ""childishly piercing". Then he was wounded. “It seemed to him that one of the nearest soldiers hit him in the head with a strong stick with all his might.” The author deliberately belittles Prince Andrei - Bolkonsky does an act for himself, forgetting about others. Naturally, this is no longer a feat.
Only with a wound does enlightenment come to the prince. “How quiet, calm and solemn, not at all like how we ran, shouted and fought; not at all like the Frenchman and the artilleryman dragging each other's bannik with embittered and frightened faces - not at all like the clouds crawling across this high, endless sky. How could I not have seen this lofty sky before? And how happy I am that I finally got to know him. Yes! Everything is empty, everything is a lie, except for this endless sky. Nothing, nothing but him. But even that is not even there, there is nothing but silence, calmness. And thank God!… "
And Napoleon, a former idol, already seems like a small fly. “... At that moment, Napoleon seemed to him such a small, insignificant person in comparison with what was now happening between his soul and this high, endless sky with clouds running across it. »
Until that moment, Bolkonsky did not consider death and pain important. Now he realized that the life of any person is more precious than any Toulon. He understood all those whom he wanted to sacrifice for the sake of satisfying his own petty needs.
The scenery at the battle of Austerlitz seemed very interesting to me - the fog of the military and the bright, clear sky of their commanders. The military has no specific goals - fog. Nature fully reflects their spiritual picture. For commanders, everything is clear: they do not need to think - now nothing depends on them.
There is also an interesting discussion on this topic.
war is not a means of achieving a career, but dirty, hard work, where an anti-human deed is performed. The final realization of this comes to Prince Andrei on the field of Austerlitz. He wants to accomplish a feat and accomplishes it. But later he recalls not his triumph, when he fled to the French with a banner in his hands, but the high sky of Austerlitz. The banner and the sky are important symbols in the novel. The banners appear several times in the work, but still it is not so much a symbol as a simple emblem that does not deserve a serious attitude. The banner personifies power, glory, a certain material force, which is by no means welcomed by Tolstoy, who prefers the spiritual values ​​​​of a person.

In the autumn of 1805, Russian troops won the battle near Shengraben. The victory was unexpected and easy due to the circumstances, so the Third Coalition, waging war with Napoleon, was inspired by success. The emperors of Russia and Austria decided to give the French army another lesson near the city of Austerlitz, underestimating the enemy. Leo Tolstoy describes the battle of Austerlitz in the novel "War and Peace" on the basis of studied documents, dispositions of troops and facts found in numerous historical sources.

Dawn before the battle

They went into battle with the first rays of the sun in order to have time to kill each other before dark. At night, it was not clear who was ours, and who were the enemy soldiers. The left flank of the Russian army was the first to move, it was sent according to its disposition to break the right flank of the French and push them back into the Bohemian mountains. Fires were burned to destroy everything that could not be carried with them, so as not to leave strategic values ​​\u200b\u200bto the enemy in case of defeat.

The soldiers felt the imminent performance, guessed the approach of the signal from the silent Austrian columnists, flickering among the Russian troops. The columns moved, each soldier did not know where he was heading, but he walked with his usual step in the crowd with a thousand feet of his regiment. The fog was very thick, and the smoke was eating away at the eyes. It was not visible either to the area from which everyone was coming out, nor to those surroundings where they were approaching.

Those who walked in the middle asked what they could see along the edges, but no one saw anything in front of them ten paces ahead. Everyone told each other that Russian columns were coming from all sides, even from behind. The news was reassuring, because everyone was pleased that the whole army was going where he was going. Leo Tolstoy, with his characteristic humanism, reveals the simple human feelings of people who go through a foggy dawn to kill and be killed, as military duty requires.

morning battle

The soldiers marched for a long time in a milky fog. Then they felt disorder in their ranks. It is good that the cause of the fuss could be attributed to the Germans: the Austrian command decided that there was a long distance between the center and the right flank. The free space must be filled with the Austrian cavalry from the left flank. The entire cavalry, on the orders of the higher authorities, turned sharply to the left.

The generals quarreled, the spirit of the troops fell, and Napoleon watched the enemy from above. The emperor could clearly see the enemy, who was scurrying around below, like a blind kitten. By nine o'clock in the morning the first shots were heard here and there. The Russian soldiers could not see where to shoot and where the enemy was moving, so orderly shooting began over the Goldbach River.

Orders did not arrive in time, because the adjutants wandered with them for a long time in the thick morning mist. The first three columns began the battle in disorder and disorder. The fourth column, led by Kutuzov, remained on top. After a couple of hours, when the Russian soldiers were already tired and weak, and the sun completely illuminated the valley, Napoleon gave the order to attack in the direction of the Pracen Heights.

Andrei Bolkonsky's wound

Prince Andrei began the battle of Austerlitz next to General Kutuzov, he looked enviously into the valley. There, in the cold milky darkness, shots were heard, and on the opposite slopes the enemy army was guessed. Mikhail Illarionovich with his retinue stood on the edge of the village and was nervous, he suspected that the column would not have time to line up in the right order, passing the village, but the general who arrived insisted that the French were still far away from the disposition.

Kutuzov sent the prince to the commander of the third division with the order to prepare for battle. Adjutant Bolkonsky fulfilled the order of the commander. The field commander of the third division was very surprised, he could not believe that the enemy was so close. It seemed to the military authorities that there were other columns of soldiers ahead who would be the first to meet the enemy. Having adjusted the omission, the adjutant returned back.

Meeting Kutuzov with Alexander I

The commander waited, yawning like an old man. Suddenly, a greeting from the regiments was heard from the rear along the entire line of the advancing Russian army. Soon a squadron of riders in colorful uniforms could be distinguished. The emperors of Russia and Austria followed in the direction from Prazen, surrounded by their retinue.

The figure of Kutuzov changed, he froze, bowing before the monarch. Now it was a loyal subject of His Majesty, not reasoning and relying on the will of the sovereign. Mikhail Illarionovich overacted, saluting the young emperor. Bolkonsky thought that the tsar was handsome, he had beautiful gray eyes with an expression of age innocence. Alexander ordered the battle to begin, although the commander tried his best to wait until the fog completely dissipated.

Regimental colors

When the Russian command, due to weather conditions, was able to examine and assess the location of the army, it turned out that the enemy was two versts away, and not ten, as Alexander assumed due to his inexperience. Andrei managed to notice that the enemies were advancing five hundred meters from Kutuzov himself, he wanted to warn the Absheron column, but panic ran through the ranks with lightning speed.

Five minutes ago, slender columns passed through that place in front of the emperors of the coalition, now crowds of frightened soldiers were running. The mass of the retreating did not let out the one who got into it and chaotically captured Kutuzov. Everything happened very quickly. Artillery was still firing on the slope of the mountain, but the French were too close.

The infantry stood nearby in indecision, suddenly they opened fire on it, and the soldiers began to shoot back without orders. The wounded ensign dropped the banner. With a cry of "Uraaaaa!" Prince Bolkonsky picked up the fallen banner, never doubting for a moment that the battalion would follow its banner. It was impossible to hand over the cannons to the French, because they would immediately turn them against the fugitives and turn them into a bloody mess.

Hand-to-hand fighting was already in full swing for the guns when Andrey felt a blow to the head. He did not have time to see how the fight ended. Sky. Only blue skies, not causing any feelings and thoughts, as a symbol of infinity, opened up above him. There was peace and quiet.

The defeat of the Russian army

By evening, the French generals were talking about the end of the battle in all directions. The enemy took possession of more than a hundred guns. The corps of General Przhebyshevsky laid down their arms, other columns fled in chaotic crowds.

At the village of Augesta, a handful of soldiers from Dokhturov and Lanzheron remained. In the evening, one could hear the bursts of shells fired from the cannons, as the French shot down the retreating military units.

The writing

on the topic: Andrei Bolkonsky in the Shengraben and Austerlitz battles

bolkonsky austerlitsky battle war

Andrei Bolkonsky - one of the main characters of the novel by L. N. Tolstoy war world . "...Small in stature, a very handsome young man with definite and dry features." We meet him in the first pages of the novel. A man who is bored with stupid high society and a pretty wife, he craves such a feat, which is necessary for a military man . Bolkonsky decided that war was the place where he could prove himself. Napoleon was his idol. Bolkonsky, like most young people of that time, also wanted to become famous.

The Battle of Shengraben is one of the key moments in Leo Tolstoy's novel War and Peace . Hungry, shoeless, exhausted soldiers had to stop the army of the enemy, much stronger than they were. Knowing from Kutuzov that Bagration's detachment has not much chance of surviving, Andrei Bolkonsky begs the great commander to allow him to participate in this battle. Prince Andrei, who was constantly with the commander-in-chief, even when he got to the front line, continued to think in large categories, presenting the course of events in the most general terms. But the French opened fire, the battle began. Began! Here it is! But where? How will my Toulon be expressed? thought Prince Andrei. But everything did not happen at all as it seemed to Prince Andrei, as it was taught and said in theory. The soldiers either huddle together and run, then they counterattack, and the enemy is already forced to retreat. And the general gave almost no orders, although he pretended that everything was happening according to his intentions . However, the very fact of his presence, the calm manner of speaking worked wonders, raising the spirits of commanders and soldiers. Andrei watched as, returning from the battlefield, many go on about their exploits. The true hero of the Shengraben battle is Captain Tushin. It was his battery that stopped the French, made it possible for theirs to retreat, and not be completely defeated. They forgot about him, the guns were left without cover. In fact, Andrei was the only one of the staff officers who was not afraid to deliver the order to retreat to the battery and who, under intense fire, helped to withdraw the surviving guns and artillerymen. The true hero remained invaluable. And this incident began to destroy the dreams and ideas of Bolkonsky. Tolstoy shows that simple and inconspicuous warriors, such as company commander Timokhin and captain Tushin, played the main role in this battle. Not numerical superiority, not the strategic plans of wise commanders, but the enthusiasm and fearlessness of the company commander, who dragged along the soldiers, influenced the course of the battle. Bolkonsky could not fail to notice this.

The battle of Austerlitz, as Prince Andrei believed, was a chance to find his dream. It is in this battle that he will be able to accomplish, albeit a small, but feat. Even Napoleon noticed and appreciated his heroic deed. During the retreat, the prince grabs the banner and, by his example, induces the battalion to rush to the attack. Here it is! thought the prince. He ran shouting "Hurrah!" and never doubted for a moment that the whole regiment would run after him. Andrei barely held the banner and simply dragged it by the pole, shouting piercingly as a child: Guys, go ahead! On the field of Austerlitz, Andrei Bolkonsky is undergoing a reassessment of values. Seriously wounded, he lay and looked at the endless sky. What seemed to him beautiful and sublime turned out to be empty and vain. And Napoleon himself, his hero, now seemed "a small and insignificant person," and his words were nothing more than the buzzing of a fly.

The Battle of Shengraben undoubtedly played a positive role in the life of Prince Andrei. Thanks to Tushin, Bolkonsky changes his view of the war. It turns out that war is not a means of achieving a career, but dirty, hard work, where an anti-human deed is performed. The final realization of this comes to Prince Andrei on the field of Austerlitz. After these fights, and most importantly after being wounded, Andrei changes his outlook on life. He understands that the outcome of the battle does not depend on the feat of one person, but on the feat of the people.