). Belogorsk Fortress based on the story The Captain's Daughter (Pushkin A.
He is going to the place of his future service. As much as the road from Simbirsk to Orenburg was full of stormy experiences and extraordinary incidents, the path from Orenburg to the Belogorsk fortress was dull and monotonous. If the steppe before Orenburg was rebellious and formidable (remember the snowstorm), now it appears quiet and sad. “The road went along the steep bank of the Yaik. The river was not yet frozen, and its leaden waves sadly turned black in the monotonous banks covered with white snow. Beyond them stretched the Kyrgyz steppes.” The word “extended” alone makes it possible to imagine the vast spaces beyond the Yaik River, tiresome in their monotony. There are few colors: white snow and blackening “lead waves”. So, in a few words, Pushkin conveys the mood of the sad winter Orenburg steppe. The travel thoughts of the young traveler are sad. The words of General R. - “you will be on the team of Captain Mironov, a kind and honest man. There you will be in real service, you will learn discipline” - made Grinev imagine his future boss as a strict, angry old man who knows nothing but his service. And yet Grinev is waiting for new impressions - after all, he is going to the fortress! “I looked in all directions, expecting to see formidable bastions, towers and ramparts.” However, instead of formidable bastions, he saw log fences, instead of towers - haystacks and a crooked mill with popular prints, lazily drooping wings. What, after all, vaguely resembled a fortress? An old cast iron cannon at the gate.
At the commandant's house, Grinev is met by the duty officer - an old disabled man who was "sewing a blue patch on the elbow of his green uniform." It is clear that everyone is in command of the “old lady in a padded jacket,” as it turns out, the commandant’s wife: “Ivan Kuzmich is not at home, he went to visit Father Gerasim; it doesn’t matter, father, I am his mistress.” How does the comic portrayal of the “commandant’s mistress” deepen? She interrupts Ivan Ignatievich, starts a conversation with young Grinev herself and immediately begins to talk about officer Shvabrin, who is still unfamiliar to Grinev. But Vasilisa Egorovna at the same time attracts the reader with her cordiality and hospitality. She affectionately greets the unfamiliar officer: “I ask for love and favor. Sit down, father.” She decisively interrupts Ivan Ignatievich’s curiosity: “You see, the young man is tired from the road, he has no time for you...”
Vasilisa Egorovna’s dialogue regarding Grinev’s device is interesting. But her master's actions are not fair. We see for what reasons Grinev ends up in the apartment of Semyon Kuzov, and not Ivan Polezhaev. Vasilisa Egorovna disposes of the fortress at her own discretion, uncontrollably sorts out minor quarrels, and is tough in decisions.
Before us is the life of a small abandoned fortress, in which there is nothing military except a single cannon, an officer’s diploma hanging on the wall in a frame under glass, and worn uniforms on the disabled person and Ivan Ignatievich. Grinev’s new acquaintances are slightly comical, and we cannot help but smile when reading about them, since they do not coincide with our ideas about military people. The most “combat” of them is Vasilisa Egorovna, and this enhances the comedy of the picture of the captain’s house. But one cannot help but notice: something good-natured, open, ingenuous captivates us in the Mironovs.
How does Grinev’s first day in the fortress end? He goes to Semyon Kuzov's house. Everything tells him that life in the fortress will be dull and joyless. "...I began to look out the narrow window. The sad steppe stretched out in front of me. Several huts stood diagonally; several chickens wandered along the street. An old woman, standing on the porch with a trough, called to the pigs, who answered her with a friendly grunt. And that's what direction I was condemned to spend my youth! Melancholy took me..." writes Grinev.
We see that the landscape with which the chapter begins and ends played a big role in the idea of the Belogorsk fortress that was created in our minds. We draw attention to an important feature of Pushkin’s language: the landscapes are unusually spare and laconic, as are the descriptions of people’s moods. Pushkin, as it were, gives the reader the opportunity to complete in his imagination what surrounds Grinev, to imagine his state of mind, expressed in the words: “melancholy took me,” “I walked away from the window and went to bed without dinner.”
How do Grinev’s impressions of the fortress and its inhabitants expand on the second day of his stay in it? Grinev notices the poverty and wretchedness of the fortress, the weakness of its military preparation. He saw the commandant of the fortress on the site, who was training the soldiers. These were old disabled people, dressed in shabby uniforms. Vasilisa Yegorovna says to the commandant: “Only glory that you teach the soldiers: neither they are given the service, nor do you know anything about it. If you sat at home and prayed to God, it would be better.” An important detail: Ivan Kuzmich commands soldiers “in a cap and a Chinese robe.”
We are once again convinced that the fortress, which was destined to take the blow of the rebels, was abandoned, poorly equipped, and infinitely peaceful. In the Mironovs’ wooden house, life goes on as usual, a small circle gathers, has lunch, dinner, and passes on gossip. “In the God-saved fortress there were no inspections, no exercises, no guards,” recalls Grinev (Chapter IV). No one controls the actions of the commandant, no one thinks about the military equipment of the fortress. General R. in Orenburg is more occupied with his garden with apple trees than with military affairs. Meanwhile, events of enormous significance are brewing in the area of the Belogorsk fortress.
Grinev arrives at the fortress in the late autumn of 1773. Are there any hints in the story that the general excitement of these regions reaches the log fence of the Belogorsk fortress? Vasilisa Egorovna asks the constable, the Cossack Maksimych, in front of Grinev: “Well, Maksimych, is everything all right?” “Everything, thank God, is quiet,” the Cossack answers. How is the officer’s appearance portrayed? This is a “young and stately Cossack.” In the garrison, we know, there were soldiers and Cossacks. What comparison suggests itself? The commandant had only disabled people at the training, and among the Cossacks there were strong and young people capable of fighting. Maksimych is connected with the Cossacks, he will be in the ranks of the rebels. And here’s another detail: Vasilisa Yegorovna says that she is used to the fact that “lynx hats” appear in large crowds in the steppe. They have appeared and now, “they are prowling around the fortress.”
In 1836, the Sovremennik magazine published a historical story by A.S. Pushkin's "The Captain's Daughter", which takes place during the terrible years of the Pugachev uprising in 1773-1775. The writer in his works more than once turned to historical topics, trying to find answers to contemporary questions in the events of the past. An example is the author’s works such as “Boris Godunov”, “Arap of Peter the Great”, “Poltava”, “Blizzard” and others.
Arrival of Pyotr Grinev to the Belogorsk Fortress
The main character of the story is an officer. He was sent to military service in one of the most remote corners of the country. The Belogorsk fortress was located in the steppe and at first seemed to the young man a real wilderness, where he was destined to vegetate in boredom and inaction. The area seemed dull and nondescript to him, because it resembled not a military garrison, but a poor village.
However, the very first acquaintance with its inhabitants changed Pyotr Andreevich’s idea of his place of service. And in fact, “The Captain’s Daughter” played a big role in the story: after all, it was here that he met his love, went through terrible trials, but did not lose his honor and remained faithful to the empress. The inhabitants of this fortification turned out to be extremely simple people, which immediately earned the sympathy of the young man.
Inhabitants of the Belogorsk fortress: the Mironov spouses
The captain of the garrison was Ivan Mironov, a good-natured and simple-minded man who treated his subordinates well, respected his wife, Vasilisa Egorovna, and loved his only daughter, Marya Ivanovna. His wife not only managed the household affairs, but also took an active part in leading the military personnel.
She perceived the Belogorsk fortress as a farm, and therefore she quite skillfully coped not only with her own functions, but also with her husband’s problems in the military field. Vasilisa Egorovna enjoyed general respect among the inhabitants and had a reputation as a strict but fair woman. The image of this heroine is one of the most successful in the story.
Masha Mironova
The main character is the captain's daughter, Marya Ivanovna, a simple girl without education or manners. However, her sensitivity and kindness immediately attracted Peter Grinev, who found her smart and reasonable. Thanks to this sympathy, the Belogorsk fortress no longer seemed boring to him; on the contrary, he quickly got used to the new life and began to find a lot of positive things in it.
The hero's love for Masha Mironova, of course, largely determined his attitude towards his existence in the garrison. At a time when both were hoping to get married, Pyotr Grinev was full of hope for the future and believed in a happy destiny. However, after his father’s refusal to marry, the hero completely lost his taste for life, and the Belogorsk fortress began to seem empty and dull to him.
Other inhabitants of the fortress: Shvabrin, Ivan Ignatievich, Palashka
When characterizing the story “The Captain's Daughter,” it is of great importance how Peter is shown on this topic, which should be accompanied by a description of his relationships with other inhabitants of the garrison, primarily with Shvabrin. Alexey Ivanovich was also an officer, but he was the complete opposite of the main character.
From the very beginning, he makes an unpleasant impression, which is subsequently confirmed by his attempts to interfere with the relationship between Peter and Masha. He viciously and caustically ridicules Vasilisa Yegorovna, insults Masha, dishonestly wounds Grinev in a duel, taking advantage of the fact that he was distracted by Savelich. He betrays his oath and goes over to Pugachev’s side and, finally, at the trial, gives false testimony against his former rival.
A different impression is made by the minor characters - the Mironovs' servants: Ivan Ignatievich, an old disabled person, who, however, refused to recognize Pugachev as sovereign, for which he was hanged, and the maid Palashka, who in difficult moments helps her young lady, Marya Ivanovna. These heroes seem to set off the image of the Belogorsk fortress, showing that simple, but honest and noble people live in the very outback of the country.
General characteristics of the garrison
The place of service of Pyotr Grinev plays an important role in the narrative: after all, it is here that all the most important events in his life take place. Here he witnessed Pugachev’s terrible reprisal against Captain Mironov, Ivan Ignatievich, and Vasilisa Egorovna. He himself miraculously escaped death and, by a strange coincidence, became friends with Pugachev.
He rushed to this place to save Masha Mironova from Shvabrin, again running the risk of being executed by the rebels. Here fate again brought him together with Pugachev, who this time helped him free his bride. In the fortress, Grinev finally explained to Marya Ivanovna regarding their upcoming marriage. Here he said goodbye to Pugachev forever in order to see him some time later on the chopping block. The Belogorsk fortress, the description of which was presented in this essay, played a decisive role in the fate of Pyotr Grinev.
Stages of the Pugachev revolt (Yaitsky revolt, capture of the Belogorsk fortress, siege of Orenburg, execution of Pugachev).
The Yaitsky riot is noted in the work only by a mention, in a letter sent to the commandant of the Belogorsk fortress, Captain Mironov. The letter says that the Don Cossack and schismatic, Emelyan Pugachev, escaped from guard and, taking on the name of the late Peter III, gathered a gang and caused outrage in the Yaik villages and had already taken and destroyed several fortresses, while acting absolutely mercilessly.
A day later, the attack on the Belogorsk fortress begins. The description of the action is quite detailed: from the beginning of the gathering (the Pugachev cavalry appeared in front of the fortress later) and the location of the parties, to the actions already inside the fortress after it was captured by Pugachev, when he demanded to swear allegiance to him, and executed those who refused.
According to the historical data that I was able to find, something similar happened in the Nizhneozernaya fortress on September 27. True, the fortress garrison there consisted of at least a thousand soldiers, and the commandant, Colonel Elagin, hoped to fight back with the help of artillery. The firefight continued throughout the day on September 27. Having managed to set fire to the wooden walls of the fortress, which started a fire in the town, and taking advantage of the panic that began in the town, the Cossacks broke into the fortress, after which most of the garrison laid down their arms. The commandant and officers resisted to the last, dying in battle, and those captured, including members of their families, were shot after the battle. The daughter of commandant Elagin, Tatyana, was taken by Pugachev as a concubine. They left her brother Nikolai with her, in front of whose eyes their mother was killed after the battle. The Cossacks shot Tatyana and her young brother a month later.
Pugachev asks about his intention to appear in Orenburg to hand over Grinev to the local governor and generals. Grinev arrives in Orenburg, and at the council there is a conversation about further actions: attack or defend. As a result, it was decided to defend.
« I will not describe the siege of Orenburg, which belongs to history, and not to family notes. – writes Pyotr Aleksandrovich Grinev – I will say briefly that this siege, due to the negligence of the local authorities, was disastrous for the inhabitants, who suffered hunger and all kinds of disasters.<…>Residents were accustomed to cannonballs flying into their yards; even Pugachev’s attacks no longer attracted general curiosity.<…>All roads were cut off" This is how the siege of the city is described - briefly and, in principle, quite succinctly. Grinev sometimes went out for skirmishes with Pugachev’s robbers, noting that the enemy’s cavalry was better than that of the besieged. It is said about the infantry that they are hungry, which means what to say about the civilians in the city, even if the warriors defending it did not eat their fill. With the first phrase from the quotation I gave from the text of the work, the author, in the words of the character, probably gives the reader a link to “The History of Pugachev” and emphasizes that his story is historical just enough so as not to make the family, edifying line of the work insignificant (the relationships between various characters: Grinev - descendants, Grinev - Masha, Grinev - Pugachev).
The execution of Pugachev is already mentioned in the afterword from the publisher. " From family legends it is known that Per Andreevich was present at the execution of Pugachev, who recognized him and nodded his head, which a minute later, dead and bloody, was shown to the people».
On January 10, 1775, an execution was carried out on Bolotnaya Square in Moscow in front of a huge crowd of people. Pugachev behaved with dignity, ascended to the place of execution, crossed himself at the Kremlin cathedrals, bowed to four sides with the words “Forgive me, Orthodox people.” The executioner first cut off the head of Yemelyan Pugachev, who was sentenced to quartering; such was the wish of the empress. The sentence stated that the head should then be placed on a pike, and the body parts should be carried to four parts of the city and placed on wheels, where they would then be burned.
Having occupied the meadows and mountains,
From the top, like an eagle, he cast his gaze upon the city.
Behind the camp he ordered to build a rampart
And, hiding the Peruns in it, bring them under the hail in the night.
Kheraskov
Approaching Orenburg, we saw a crowd of convicts with shaved heads, with faces disfigured by the executioner's tongs. They worked near the fortifications under the supervision of garrison invalids. Others carried out in carts the rubbish that filled the ditch; others dug the ground with shovels; On the rampart, masons carried bricks and repaired the city wall. At the gate the guards stopped us and demanded our passports. As soon as the sergeant heard that I was coming from the Belogorsk fortress, he led me straight to the general’s house.
I found him in the garden. He examined the apple trees, bare by the breath of autumn, and, with the help of the old gardener, carefully wrapped them in warm straw. His face depicted calm, health and good nature. He was glad to see me and began to ask about the terrible events that I had witnessed. I told him everything. The old man listened to me with attention and meanwhile cut off dry branches. “Poor Mironov! - he said when I finished my sad story. - It's a pity for him: he was a good officer. And Madame Mironov was a kind lady and what a master at salting mushrooms! What about Masha, the captain’s daughter?” I answered that she remained in the fortress in the hands of the priest. "Ah ah ah! - the general noted. - This is bad, very bad. The discipline of robbers cannot be relied upon. What will happen to the poor girl? I replied that it was not far to the Belogorsk fortress, and that, probably, His Excellency would not hesitate to send an army to liberate its poor inhabitants. The general shook his head with an air of incredulity. “We'll see, we'll see,” he said. “We’ll still have time to talk about this.” Please come to me for a cup of tea: today I will have a military council. You can give us correct information about the slacker Pugachev and his army. Now go and rest for now.”
I went to the apartment assigned to me, where Savelich was already in charge, and impatiently began to wait for the appointed time. The reader can easily imagine that I did not fail to appear at the council, which was supposed to have such an influence on my fate. At the appointed hour I was already with the general.
I found one of the city officials with him, I remember the director of customs, a fat and ruddy old man in an glazed caftan. He began to ask me about the fate of Ivan Kuzmich, whom he called godfather, and often interrupted my speech with additional questions and moralizing remarks, which, if they did not expose him as a person knowledgeable in the art of war, at least revealed his sharpness and natural intelligence. Meanwhile, other invitees also gathered. Between them, except for the general himself, there was not a single military man. When everyone had sat down and served everyone a cup of tea, the general explained very clearly and at length what the matter was. “Now, gentlemen,” he continued, “we must decide how we should act against the rebels: offensively or defensively? Each of these methods has its own advantages and disadvantages. Offensive action represents more hope for the speedy extermination of the enemy; a defensive action is more correct and safe... So, let's start collecting votes according to the legal order, that is, starting with the lowest in rank. Mister Ensign! - he continued, turning to me. “Please explain your opinion to us.”
I stood up and, having first described Pugachev and his gang in short words, said affirmatively that there was no way for the impostor to resist the right weapon.
My opinion was accepted by officials with obvious unfavorability. They saw in him the rashness and insolence of a young man. There was a murmur, and I clearly heard the word “baby” spoken by someone in a low voice. The general turned to me and said with a smile: “Mr. Ensign! The first votes at military councils are usually cast in favor of offensive movements; this is a legal order. Now we will continue collecting votes. Mister Collegiate Advisor! tell us your opinion!”
The old man in the glazed caftan hastily finished his third cup, significantly diluted with rum, and answered the general: “I think, Your Excellency, that we should act neither offensively nor defensively.”
How can this be, Mr. Collegiate Advisor? - objected the amazed general. - There are no other tactics: defensive or offensive movement...
Your Excellency, move in a captivating manner.
Eh-he-he! your opinion is very reasonable. Bribery movements through tactics are allowed, and we will take your advice. It will be possible to promise for the head of the slacker... seventy or even a hundred rubles... from the secret amount...
And then,” interrupted the customs director, “would I be a Kyrgyz sheep, and not a collegiate adviser, if these thieves do not give us their chieftain, shackled hand and foot.”
“We’ll think about it and talk about it,” answered the general. - However, in any case, military measures must be taken. Gentlemen, cast your votes in order.
All opinions turned out to be contrary to mine. All the officials spoke about the unreliability of troops, about the unfaithfulness of luck, about caution and the like. Everyone believed that it was more prudent to remain under the cover of cannons, behind a strong stone wall, rather than experience the happiness of weapons in an open field. Finally, the general, having listened to all opinions, shook out the ashes from his pipe and made the following speech:
My sirs! I must tell you that for my part I completely agree with the opinion of Mr. Ensign, for this opinion is based on all the rules of sound tactics, which always prefers almost offensive movements to defensive ones.
Here he stopped and began filling his pipe. My pride triumphed. I looked proudly at the officials, who were whispering among themselves with an air of displeasure and concern.
But, my lords,” he continued, exhaling, along with a deep sigh, a thick stream of tobacco smoke, “I do not dare take upon myself such a great responsibility when it comes to the safety of the provinces entrusted to me by Her Imperial Majesty, my most merciful sovereign. So, I agree with the majority of votes, which decided that it was most prudent and safest to await a siege inside the city, and to repel enemy attacks with artillery force and (if possible) sorties.
The officials, in turn, looked at me mockingly. The council dispersed. I could not help but regret the weakness of the venerable warrior, who, contrary to his own convictions, decided to follow the opinions of ignorant and inexperienced people.
A few days after this famous advice, we learned that Pugachev, true to his promise, was approaching Orenburg. I saw the rebel army from the heights of the city wall. It seemed to me that their number had increased tenfold since the last attack that I witnessed. They also had artillery, taken by Pugachev from small fortresses that he had already conquered. Remembering the council’s decision, I foresaw a long-term imprisonment within the walls of Orenburg and almost cried with frustration.
I will not describe the siege of Orenburg, which belongs to history, and not to family notes. I will say briefly that this siege, due to the negligence of the local authorities, was disastrous for the inhabitants, who suffered hunger and all kinds of disasters. One can easily imagine that life in Orenburg was the most unbearable. Everyone awaited the decision of their fate with despondency; everyone groaned at the high cost, which was truly terrible. Residents were accustomed to cannonballs flying into their yards; Even Pugachev’s attacks did not attract general curiosity. I was dying of boredom. As time went. I did not receive any letters from the Belogorsk fortress. All roads were cut off. Separation from Marya Ivanovna became unbearable for me. The unknown of her fate tormented me. My only entertainment was horseback riding. By the grace of Pugachev, I had a good horse, with whom I shared my meager food and on which I rode out of the city every day to shoot with Pugachev’s riders. In these skirmishes, the advantage was usually on the side of the villains, well-fed, drunk and good-natured. The skinny city cavalry could not defeat them. Sometimes our hungry infantry also went out into the field; but the depth of the snow prevented her from acting successfully against the scattered riders. The artillery thundered in vain from the height of the rampart, and in the field it got stuck and did not move due to the exhaustion of the horses. This was the image of our military operations! And this is what Orenburg officials called caution and prudence!
Once, when we managed to somehow disperse and drive away a rather dense crowd, I ran into a Cossack who had lagged behind his comrades; I was ready to hit him with my Turkish saber, when suddenly he took off his hat and shouted:
Hello, Pyotr Andreich! How does God have mercy on you?
I looked and recognized our constable. I was incredibly happy about him.
“Hello, Maksimych,” I told him. - How long have you been from Belogorskaya?
Recently, Father Pyotr Andreich; I just returned yesterday. I have a letter for you.
Where is it? - I cried, all flushed.
“With me,” answered Maksimych, putting his hand in his bosom. “I promised Pasha that I would somehow deliver it to you.” - Then he handed me a folded piece of paper and immediately galloped off. I unfolded it and read the following lines with trepidation:
“God was pleased to suddenly deprive me of my father and mother: I have neither relatives nor patrons on earth. I come running to you, knowing that you always wished me well and that you are ready to help anyone. I pray to God that this letter somehow reaches you! Maksimych promised to deliver it to you. Broadsword also heard from Maksimych that he often sees you from afar on forays and that you don’t take care of yourself at all and don’t think about those who pray to God for you with tears. I was sick for a long time; and when I recovered, Alexey Ivanovich, who commands us in place of the late priest, forced Father Gerasim to hand me over to him, intimidating him with Pugachev. I live in our house under guard. Alexey Ivanovich is forcing me to marry him. He says that he saved my life because he covered up the deception of Akulina Pamfilovna, who told the villains that I was her niece. But it would be easier for me to die than to become the wife of such a man as Alexey Ivanovich. He treats me very cruelly and threatens that if I don’t come to my senses and agree, he will bring me to the camp to the villain, and the same thing will happen to you as to Lizaveta Kharlova. I asked Alexey Ivanovich to let me think. He agreed to wait three more days; and if I don’t marry him in three days, there will be no mercy. Father Peter Andreich! you are my only patron; intercede for me, poor thing. Ask the general and all the commanders to send the sikurs to us as soon as possible, and come yourself if you can. I remain your humble, poor orphan Marya Mironova.”
After reading this letter, I almost went crazy. I set off into the city, without mercy spurring my poor horse. On the way, I thought of both this and that to deliver the poor girl and could not come up with anything. Having galloped into the city, I went straight to the general and ran headlong towards him.
The general walked up and down the room, smoking his meerschaum pipe. Seeing me, he stopped. Probably my appearance struck him; he carefully inquired about the reason for my hasty arrival.
Your Excellency,” I told him, “I resort to you as to my own father; For God's sake, do not refuse me my request: this is about the happiness of my whole life.
What is it, father? - asked the amazed old man. - What can I do for you? Speak.
Your Excellency, order me to take a company of soldiers and fifty Cossacks and let me clear the Belogorsk fortress.
The general looked at me intently, probably believing that I had gone crazy (in which I was almost not mistaken).
Like this? Clear the Belogorsk fortress? - he said finally.
I vouch for your success,” I answered fervently. - Just let me go.
No, young man,” he said, shaking his head. - At such a great distance, it will be easy for the enemy to cut you off from communication with the main strategic point and gain a complete victory over you. Interrupted communication...
I was frightened to see him drawn into military discussions, and hastened to interrupt him.
The daughter of Captain Mironov, I told him, is writing a letter to me: she asks for help; Shvabrin forces her to marry him.
Really? Oh, this great Shvabrin Schelm, and if he falls into my hands, I will order him to be tried within twenty-four hours, and we will shoot him on the parapet of the fortress! But for now we need to be patient...
Be patient! - I cried out beside myself. - And meanwhile he will marry Marya Ivanovna!..
ABOUT! - the general objected. “That’s not a problem: it’s better for her to be Shvabrin’s wife for now: he can now provide her with protection; and when we shoot him, then, God willing, she will also find suitors. Nice little widows don't sit as girls; that is, I wanted to say that a widow is more likely to find a husband than a maiden.
“I would sooner agree to die,” I said in rage, “rather than give it up to Shvabrin!”
Bah, bah, bah, bah! - said the old man. “Now I understand: you’re obviously in love with Marya Ivanovna.” Oh, that's different! Poor fellow! But still, I just can’t give you a company of soldiers and fifty Cossacks. This expedition would be unwise; I can't take her responsibility.
I lowered my head; despair took possession of me. Suddenly a thought flashed through my head: what it was, the reader will see from the next chapter, as the ancient novelists say.
Fortress
We live in a fort
We eat bread and drink water;
And how fierce enemies
They will come to us for pies,
Let's give the guests a feast:
Let's load the cannon with buckshot.
Soldier's song
Old people, my father.
Minor
The Belogorsk fortress was located forty miles from Orenburg. The road went along the steep bank of the Yaik. The river had not yet frozen, and its leaden waves sadly turned black in the monotonous banks covered with white snow. Behind them stretched the Kyrgyz steppes. I plunged into thoughts, mostly sad. Garrison life had little attraction for me. I tried to imagine Captain Mironov, my future boss, and imagined him as a stern, angry old man, who knew nothing except his service, and was ready to put me under arrest for bread and water for every trifle. Meanwhile, it began to get dark. We drove pretty quickly. “How far is it to the fortress?” – I asked my driver. “Not far,” he answered. “It’s already visible.” – I looked in all directions, expecting to see formidable bastions, towers and ramparts; but I saw nothing except a village surrounded by a log fence. On one side stood three or four haystacks, half-covered with snow; on the other, a crooked mill, with its popular wings lazily lowered. “Where is the fortress?” – I asked in surprise. “Yes, here it is,” answered the coachman, pointing to the village, and with that word we drove into it. At the gate I saw an old cast-iron cannon; the streets were cramped and crooked; The huts are low and mostly covered with straw. I ordered to go to the commandant, and a minute later the wagon stopped in front of a wooden house built on a high place, near the wooden church.
Nobody met me. I went into the hallway and opened the door to the hallway. An old invalid, sitting on a table, was sewing a blue patch onto the elbow of his green uniform. I told him to report me. “Come in, father,” answered the disabled man, “our houses.” I entered a clean room, decorated in an old-fashioned way. There was a cupboard with dishes in the corner; on the wall hung an officer's diploma behind glass and in a frame; Beside him were popular prints depicting the capture of Kistrin and Ochakov, as well as the choice of a bride and the burial of a cat. An old woman in a padded jacket and with a scarf on her head was sitting by the window. She was unwinding the threads, which were held, spread out in his arms, by a crooked old man in an officer's uniform. “What do you want, father?” – she asked, continuing her lesson. I replied that I had come to work and appeared on duty to the captain, and with this word I addressed the crooked old man, mistaking him for the commandant; but the hostess interrupted my speech. “Ivan Kuzmich is not at home,” she said, “he went to visit Father Gerasim; It doesn’t matter, father, I’m his owner. Please love and respect. Sit down, father." She called the girl and told her to call the policeman. The old man looked at me with curiosity with his lonely eye. “I dare to ask,” he said, “in which regiment did you deign to serve?” I satisfied his curiosity. “And I dare to ask,” he continued, “why did you deign to move from the guard to the garrison?” I answered that such was the will of the authorities. “Of course, for actions indecent to a guard officer,” continued the tireless questioner. “Stop lying about nonsense,” the captain’s wife told him, “you see, the young man is tired from the road; he has no time for you... (keep your arms straight...). And you, my father,” she continued, turning to me, “don’t be sad that you were relegated to our outback. You are not the first, you are not the last. He will endure it, he will fall in love. Alexey Ivanovich Shvabrin has been transferred to us for murder for five years now. God knows what sin befell him; As you can see, he went out of town with one lieutenant, and they took swords with them, and, well, they stabbed each other; and Alexey Ivanovich stabbed the lieutenant, and in front of two witnesses! What do you want me to do? There is no master of sin."
At that moment the constable, a young and stately Cossack, entered. “Maksimych! - the captain told him. “Give the mister officer an apartment, and a cleaner one.” “I’m listening, Vasilisa Yegorovna,” answered the constable. “Shouldn’t his honor be placed with Ivan Polezhaev?” “You’re lying, Maksimych,” said the captain’s wife, “Polezhaev’s place is already crowded; He’s my godfather and remembers that we are his bosses. Take the officer... what is your name and patronymic, my father? Pyotr Andreich?.. Take Pyotr Andreich to Semyon Kuzov. He, a swindler, let his horse into my garden. Well, Maksimych, is everything all right?”
“Everything, thank God, is quiet,” answered the Cossack, “only Corporal Prokhorov got into a fight in the bathhouse with Ustinya Negulina over a bunch of hot water.”
- Ivan Ignatyich! - the captain said to the crooked old man. – Sort out Prokhorov and Ustinya, who is right and who is wrong. Punish both of them. Well, Maksimych, go with God. Pyotr Andreich, Maksimych will take you to your apartment.
I took my leave. The constable led me to a hut that stood on a high bank of the river, at the very edge of the fortress. Half of the hut was occupied by Semyon Kuzov’s family, the other was given to me. It consisted of one rather neat room, divided in two by a partition. Savelich began to manage it; I began to look out the narrow window. The sad steppe stretched out before me. Several huts stood diagonally; There were several chickens wandering around the street. The old woman, standing on the porch with a trough, called to the pigs, who answered her with friendly grunts. And this is where I was condemned to spend my youth! Longing took me; I walked away from the window and went to bed without dinner, despite the admonitions of Savelich, who repeated with contrition: “Lord, Master! he won’t eat anything! What will the lady say if the child falls ill?
The next morning, I had just begun to get dressed when the door opened, and a young officer of short stature, with a dark and distinctly ugly face, but extremely lively, came in to see me. “Excuse me,” he told me in French, “for coming to meet you without ceremony. Yesterday I learned about your arrival; The desire to finally see a human face took such hold of me that I could not stand it. You will understand this when you live here some more time.” I guessed that it was an officer who had been discharged from the Guards for the duel. We met immediately. Shvabrin was not very stupid. His conversation was witty and entertaining. With great gaiety, he described to me the commandant’s family, his society and the region where fate had brought me. I was laughing from the bottom of my heart when the same invalid who was mending his uniform in the commandant’s front room came in and called me to dine with them on behalf of Vasilisa Yegorovna. Shvabrin volunteered to go with me.
Approaching the commandant's house, we saw on the site about twenty old disabled people with long braids and triangular hats. They were lined up in front. The commandant stood in front, a vigorous and tall old man, wearing a cap and a Chinese robe. Seeing us, he came up to us, said a few kind words to me and began to command again. We stopped to look at the teaching; but he asked us to go to Vasilisa Yegorovna, promising to follow us. “And here,” he added, “there is nothing for you to see.”
Vasilisa Egorovna received us easily and cordially and treated me as if she had known her for a century. The invalid and Palashka were setting the table. “Why did my Ivan Kuzmich study like that today! - said the commandant. - Broadsword, call the master to dinner. Where is Masha?” - Then a girl of about eighteen came in, chubby, ruddy, with light brown hair, combed smoothly behind her ears, which were on fire. At first glance I didn't really like her. I looked at her with prejudice: Shvabrin described Masha, the captain’s daughter, to me as a complete fool. Marya Ivanovna sat down in the corner and began to sew. Meanwhile, cabbage soup was served. Vasilisa Yegorovna, not seeing her husband, sent Palashka for him a second time. “Tell the master: the guests are waiting, the cabbage soup will catch a cold; thank God, the teaching will not go away; will have time to shout." “The captain soon appeared, accompanied by a crooked old man. “What is this, my father? - his wife told him. “The food was served a long time ago, but you can’t get enough.” - “And you hear, Vasilisa Egorovna,” answered Ivan Kuzmich, “I was busy with service: teaching little soldiers.” - “And, that’s enough! - the captain objected. “Only glory that you teach soldiers: neither they are given service, nor do you know the sense of it.” I would sit at home and pray to God; it would be better that way. Dear guests, you are welcome to the table.”
We sat down to dinner. Vasilisa Egorovna did not stop talking for a minute and showered me with questions: who are my parents, are they alive, where do they live and what is their condition? Hearing that the priest has three hundred souls of peasants, “Isn’t it easy! - she said, - there are rich people in the world! And here, my father, we only have one girl, Palashka, but thank God, we live small. One problem: Masha; a girl of marriageable age, what is her dowry? a fine comb, a broom, and an altyn of money (God forgive me!), with which to go to the bathhouse. It’s good if there is a kind person; Otherwise you’ll sit as an eternal bride among the girls.” – I looked at Marya Ivanovna; she turned all red, and even tears dripped onto her plate. I felt sorry for her and hurried to change the conversation. “I heard,” I said rather inopportunely, “that the Bashkirs are going to attack your fortress.” - “From whom, father, did you deign to hear this?” – asked Ivan Kuzmich. “That’s what they told me in Orenburg,” I answered. “Nothing! - said the commandant. “We haven’t heard anything for a long time.” The Bashkirs are a scared people, and the Kyrgyz have also been taught a lesson. They probably won’t come at us; and if they get upset, I’ll give such a joke that I’ll calm it down for ten years.” “And you are not afraid,” I continued, turning to the captain, “to remain in a fortress exposed to such dangers?” “It’s a habit, my father,” she answered. “It’s been twenty years since we were transferred here from the regiment, and God forbid, how afraid I was of these damned infidels!” How I used to see lynx hats, and when I heard their squealing, would you believe it, my father, my heart would skip a beat! And now I’m so used to it that I won’t even move until they come to tell us that villains are prowling around the fortress.”
“Vasilisa Egorovna is a very brave lady,” Shvabrin remarked importantly. – Ivan Kuzmich can testify to this.
“Yes, hear you,” said Ivan Kuzmich, “the woman is not a timid woman.”
- And Marya Ivanovna? - I asked, - are you as brave as you?
– Is Masha brave? - answered her mother. - No, Masha is a coward. He still can’t hear the shot from a gun: it just vibrates. And just as two years ago Ivan Kuzmich decided to shoot from our cannon on my name day, so she, my dear, almost went to the next world out of fear. Since then we haven’t fired from the damned cannon.
We got up from the table. The captain and captain went to bed; and I went to Shvabrin, with whom I spent the whole evening.
