Chapter Summaries: Dole: Nikolai visits Denisof at the hospital. Hospital scenes. The dead soldier.
Briggs: Nikolay visits Denisov, waiting in a vile hospital for his court martial.
Maude (chapters 17-18): Nicholas visits him in hospital
Pevear and Volkhonsky (chapters 17-18): Truce after the battle of Friedland. Nikolai visits Denisov in hospital. Captain Tushin. Discussion of Denisov's fate.
Translation:
XVII.
In the month of June the Friedland battle happened, which was not participated in by the Pavlograd, and following behind by it was announced a truce. Rostov, heavily feeling the absence of his friend, had not had from the time of his departure any news about him and worried about the course of affairs and his wound, and took advantage of the truce and took time off to the hospital to visit Denisov.
The hospital was found in a small Prussian village, two times devastated by the Russian and French troops. Because of how this was summer, when being in the field was okay, this village with its own broken roofs and fences and its own soiled street, ragged inhabitants and drunk and sick soldiers roaming by it, presented an especially dark sight.
In a stone house, in a courtyard with the leftovers of a disassembled fence, knocked out parts of frames and glass, was fitted a hospital. A few bandaged, pale and swollen soldiers went and were sitting in the courtyard in the sun.
Only as Rostov entered into the door of the home, he was clasped by the smell of rotting bodies and the hospital. On the stairs he met a military Russian doctor with a cigar in his mouth. Behind the doctor was walking a Russian paramedic.
— I cannot already tear it up, — spoke the doctor; — come in the evening to Makar Alekseevich, I will be there. — The paramedic still asked him something.
— Eh! Make it as you know how! Don't you care? — The doctor saw the rising on the stairs Rostov.
— What for are you here, your nobleness? — said the doctor. — What for? A bullet did not take you, so you want to get typhoid? Here, father, is a house of lepers.
— From what? — asked Rostov.
— Typhoid, father. Who will rise or die? Only us two with Makeev (he pointed out at the paramedic) are here worn out. Here already five of our brother doctors have died out. How to act brand new in a week we are ready, — with visible pleasure said the doctor. — The Prussian doctors are called, so that we do not love our allies.
Rostov explained to him that he desired to see the lying here hussar Major Denisov.
— I do not know, I do not know, father. Because think, in me alone are three hospitals, and 400 sick too! Well still, the Prussian lady benefactresses sends us coffee and lint by two pounds a month, but for that we would be gone. — He bursted out laughing. — 400, father; but they send me all the new ones. Because what is 400? Ah? — he turned to the paramedic.
The paramedic had a tormented view. He, apparently, with annoyance waited for, if soon the loose doctor would leave.
— Major Denisov, — repeated Rostov; — he below Moliten was injured.
— It seems, he died. Ah? Makeev, — indifferently asked the doctor to the paramedic.
The paramedic however did not confirm the words of the doctor.
— What, he had such long, reddish hair? — asked the doctor.
Rostov described the appearance of Denisov.
— It was, it was such, — as if happily spoke the doctor, — this one must have died, but however I handle lists that were in me. Is it in yours, Makeev?
— The lists are at Makar Alekseich’s, — said the paramedic. — but you are welcome to the officer’s chambers, there yourself see, — he added, turning to Rostov.
— Oh, better not walk in, father! — said the doctor: — but that as you would yourself here stay. — but Rostov bowed to the doctor and asked the paramedic to spend him there.
— Do not blame me for going away, — screamed the doctor from below the stairs.
Rostov with the paramedic entered into the corridor. The smell of the sick was so strong in that dark corridor that Rostov grabbed for his nose and to stay, he gathered from his forces and went farther. To the right opened a door, and from there leaned out on crutches a lean, yellow person, barefoot and in the same linen. He, leaning about the lintel, with brilliant, envious eyes glanced at the passing. Peeping in the door, Rostov saw that the sick and wounded lied there on the floor, on the straw and in greatcoats.
— But can I enter to look? — asked Rostov.
— What again is there to look at? — said the paramedic. Yet it was because of how the paramedic obviously did not desire to be let in there, Rostov entered into the soldiers' chambers. The smell, to which he now had time to breathe in at the corridor, was still stronger here. This smell here had changed some; it was sharper, and he was sensitive to that from here it occurred from.
In the long room, brightly lit by the sun in the two large windows, headed to the walls and left approaching the middle, lied the sick and wounded. A big part of them were in forgetfulness and did not turn attention to the entering. Those that were in their memory, all lifted or raised their thin, yellow faces, and all with one and that same expression of hopes in help, reproach and envy to the stranger’s health, not lowering their eyes, looked at Rostov. Rostov got out to the middle of the room, looked in at the neighboring door of the rooms with open doors, and with both parties saw that very same. He stopped, silently looking back around himself. He in no way could see this. Before him lied almost across the middle of the passage, naked on the floor, a sick, probably Cossack, because of how his hair was trimmed in a bracket. This Cossack lied on his back, and spread out his huge hand and legs. His face was blushingly red, his eyes completely rolled up, so that visible were only the white, and on his barefoot legs and hands were still red veins made as ropes. He bumped the back of his head about the floor and hoarsely spoke something and began to repeat this word. Rostov listened to what he spoke, and disassembled their repeatable word. This word was: drink — drink — drink! Rostov turned back, looking for who would lay down in this place of the sick and to give him water.
— Who here goes for the sick? — he asked the paramedic. At this time from the neighboring room came out a convoy soldier, a hospital attendant, and in a beating step stretched out before Rostov.
— Health is wanted, your high nobility! — screamed this soldier, rolling his eyes out at Rostov and, obviously, taking him for the sick’s superiors.
— Clean him up already, give him water, — said Rostov, pointing at the Cossack.
— I am listening, your high nobility, — with pleasure spoke the soldier, rolling out his eyes harder and stretching out, but not moving from his place.
"No, here there is nothing to do," thought Rostov, lowering his eyes, and wanting to now exit, but from his right he felt aspiring to himself a significant look and turned back to it. In almost this very corner in a greatcoat sat a yellow, as a skeleton, thin, strict face and unshaven gray haired beard, old soldier stubbornly watching Rostov. From one part, the neighborly old soldier whispered something to him, pointing at Rostov. Rostov got that the old man found it to ask him. He came up nearer and saw that the old man was bending only one leg, but the other was not really higher than the knee. Another neighbor of the old man, still lying with a thrown head, quite far away from him, was a young soldier with waxy pallor and a snub-nosed, covered still in freckles, face and with rolled up under the eyelash eyes. Rostov looked at the snub-nosed soldier, and a frost ran by his back.
— Yes because of this, it seems... — he turned to the paramedic.
— Really as requested, your nobleness, — said the old soldier with a trembling bottom jaw. — From morning he ran out and is over. Because we are people, not dogs...
— Now send to remove, remove, — hastily said the paramedic. — Please, your nobleness.
— Go, go, — hastily said Rostov, and lowering his eyes, and shrinking, trying to take unnoticed through these building reproachful and envious eyes directed at him, he got out from the room.
Time: June
Locations: hospital in a small Prussian town
Mentioned: Friedland, Russian, French, Molliten (Moliten in Dole and Pevear and Volkhonsky)
Pevear and Volkhonsky: The battle of Friedland, not shown, as it ends in a truce and Rostov’s regiment doesn’t participate, so Rostov visits the hospital. He learns the hospital has a typhus outbreak and even the doctors are dying. (notably, the Prussian doctors no-show, but charitable Prussian ladies help them out by sending supplies)
Briggs: Nikolay visits Denisov, waiting in a vile hospital for his court martial.
Maude (chapters 17-18): Nicholas visits him in hospital
Pevear and Volkhonsky (chapters 17-18): Truce after the battle of Friedland. Nikolai visits Denisov in hospital. Captain Tushin. Discussion of Denisov's fate.
Translation:
XVII.
In the month of June the Friedland battle happened, which was not participated in by the Pavlograd, and following behind by it was announced a truce. Rostov, heavily feeling the absence of his friend, had not had from the time of his departure any news about him and worried about the course of affairs and his wound, and took advantage of the truce and took time off to the hospital to visit Denisov.
The hospital was found in a small Prussian village, two times devastated by the Russian and French troops. Because of how this was summer, when being in the field was okay, this village with its own broken roofs and fences and its own soiled street, ragged inhabitants and drunk and sick soldiers roaming by it, presented an especially dark sight.
In a stone house, in a courtyard with the leftovers of a disassembled fence, knocked out parts of frames and glass, was fitted a hospital. A few bandaged, pale and swollen soldiers went and were sitting in the courtyard in the sun.
Only as Rostov entered into the door of the home, he was clasped by the smell of rotting bodies and the hospital. On the stairs he met a military Russian doctor with a cigar in his mouth. Behind the doctor was walking a Russian paramedic.
— I cannot already tear it up, — spoke the doctor; — come in the evening to Makar Alekseevich, I will be there. — The paramedic still asked him something.
— Eh! Make it as you know how! Don't you care? — The doctor saw the rising on the stairs Rostov.
— What for are you here, your nobleness? — said the doctor. — What for? A bullet did not take you, so you want to get typhoid? Here, father, is a house of lepers.
— From what? — asked Rostov.
— Typhoid, father. Who will rise or die? Only us two with Makeev (he pointed out at the paramedic) are here worn out. Here already five of our brother doctors have died out. How to act brand new in a week we are ready, — with visible pleasure said the doctor. — The Prussian doctors are called, so that we do not love our allies.
Rostov explained to him that he desired to see the lying here hussar Major Denisov.
— I do not know, I do not know, father. Because think, in me alone are three hospitals, and 400 sick too! Well still, the Prussian lady benefactresses sends us coffee and lint by two pounds a month, but for that we would be gone. — He bursted out laughing. — 400, father; but they send me all the new ones. Because what is 400? Ah? — he turned to the paramedic.
The paramedic had a tormented view. He, apparently, with annoyance waited for, if soon the loose doctor would leave.
— Major Denisov, — repeated Rostov; — he below Moliten was injured.
— It seems, he died. Ah? Makeev, — indifferently asked the doctor to the paramedic.
The paramedic however did not confirm the words of the doctor.
— What, he had such long, reddish hair? — asked the doctor.
Rostov described the appearance of Denisov.
— It was, it was such, — as if happily spoke the doctor, — this one must have died, but however I handle lists that were in me. Is it in yours, Makeev?
— The lists are at Makar Alekseich’s, — said the paramedic. — but you are welcome to the officer’s chambers, there yourself see, — he added, turning to Rostov.
— Oh, better not walk in, father! — said the doctor: — but that as you would yourself here stay. — but Rostov bowed to the doctor and asked the paramedic to spend him there.
— Do not blame me for going away, — screamed the doctor from below the stairs.
Rostov with the paramedic entered into the corridor. The smell of the sick was so strong in that dark corridor that Rostov grabbed for his nose and to stay, he gathered from his forces and went farther. To the right opened a door, and from there leaned out on crutches a lean, yellow person, barefoot and in the same linen. He, leaning about the lintel, with brilliant, envious eyes glanced at the passing. Peeping in the door, Rostov saw that the sick and wounded lied there on the floor, on the straw and in greatcoats.
— But can I enter to look? — asked Rostov.
— What again is there to look at? — said the paramedic. Yet it was because of how the paramedic obviously did not desire to be let in there, Rostov entered into the soldiers' chambers. The smell, to which he now had time to breathe in at the corridor, was still stronger here. This smell here had changed some; it was sharper, and he was sensitive to that from here it occurred from.
In the long room, brightly lit by the sun in the two large windows, headed to the walls and left approaching the middle, lied the sick and wounded. A big part of them were in forgetfulness and did not turn attention to the entering. Those that were in their memory, all lifted or raised their thin, yellow faces, and all with one and that same expression of hopes in help, reproach and envy to the stranger’s health, not lowering their eyes, looked at Rostov. Rostov got out to the middle of the room, looked in at the neighboring door of the rooms with open doors, and with both parties saw that very same. He stopped, silently looking back around himself. He in no way could see this. Before him lied almost across the middle of the passage, naked on the floor, a sick, probably Cossack, because of how his hair was trimmed in a bracket. This Cossack lied on his back, and spread out his huge hand and legs. His face was blushingly red, his eyes completely rolled up, so that visible were only the white, and on his barefoot legs and hands were still red veins made as ropes. He bumped the back of his head about the floor and hoarsely spoke something and began to repeat this word. Rostov listened to what he spoke, and disassembled their repeatable word. This word was: drink — drink — drink! Rostov turned back, looking for who would lay down in this place of the sick and to give him water.
— Who here goes for the sick? — he asked the paramedic. At this time from the neighboring room came out a convoy soldier, a hospital attendant, and in a beating step stretched out before Rostov.
— Health is wanted, your high nobility! — screamed this soldier, rolling his eyes out at Rostov and, obviously, taking him for the sick’s superiors.
— Clean him up already, give him water, — said Rostov, pointing at the Cossack.
— I am listening, your high nobility, — with pleasure spoke the soldier, rolling out his eyes harder and stretching out, but not moving from his place.
"No, here there is nothing to do," thought Rostov, lowering his eyes, and wanting to now exit, but from his right he felt aspiring to himself a significant look and turned back to it. In almost this very corner in a greatcoat sat a yellow, as a skeleton, thin, strict face and unshaven gray haired beard, old soldier stubbornly watching Rostov. From one part, the neighborly old soldier whispered something to him, pointing at Rostov. Rostov got that the old man found it to ask him. He came up nearer and saw that the old man was bending only one leg, but the other was not really higher than the knee. Another neighbor of the old man, still lying with a thrown head, quite far away from him, was a young soldier with waxy pallor and a snub-nosed, covered still in freckles, face and with rolled up under the eyelash eyes. Rostov looked at the snub-nosed soldier, and a frost ran by his back.
— Yes because of this, it seems... — he turned to the paramedic.
— Really as requested, your nobleness, — said the old soldier with a trembling bottom jaw. — From morning he ran out and is over. Because we are people, not dogs...
— Now send to remove, remove, — hastily said the paramedic. — Please, your nobleness.
— Go, go, — hastily said Rostov, and lowering his eyes, and shrinking, trying to take unnoticed through these building reproachful and envious eyes directed at him, he got out from the room.
Time: June
Locations: hospital in a small Prussian town
Mentioned: Friedland, Russian, French, Molliten (Moliten in Dole and Pevear and Volkhonsky)
Pevear and Volkhonsky: The battle of Friedland, not shown, as it ends in a truce and Rostov’s regiment doesn’t participate, so Rostov visits the hospital. He learns the hospital has a typhus outbreak and even the doctors are dying. (notably, the Prussian doctors no-show, but charitable Prussian ladies help them out by sending supplies)
These doctors, who warn Rostov not to go in, seem to be characterized differently than the other doctors in the novel.
Lots of references to smell, especially “hospital stench”
Rostov sees the horrors in the hospitals, decides there is nothing to be done until one says “We’re people, too, not dogs”.
Characters (characters who do not appear, but are mentioned are placed in italics. First appearances are in Bold. First mentions are underlined. Final appearance denoted by *):
Rostof (called “nobility and batyushka” by the doctor)
Major Denisof
The Russian military surgeon (as in Dole and Wiener. “a Russian army-doctor” in Bell, Briggs, and Mandelker (the latter two drop the hyphen.)
Makeyef (“Makeiew” in Bell. “Makeev” in Mandelker and Garnett. “Makeyev” in Briggs, Edmonds, and Dunnigan. “Russian feldsher or assistant” as in Dole. “Russian trained assistant” in Garnett. “Russian feldsher” in Dunnigan.
“Russian assistant” in Edmonds, Wiener, and Maude.)
Makar Alekseyevitch (“...Alexeievitch” in Bell. “...Alexeevich” in Maude and Mandelker. “...Alexeich” in Briggs. “...Alexyevitch” in Garnett. “...Alekseyevich” in Dunnigan. “...Alexeyevich” in Edmonds. “...Aleksyeevich” in Wiener.)
(inhabitants and soldiers are referenced and of course there are the dead doctors referenced and the wounded soldiers Rostof sees. The ones that stand out are the Cossack that is laying on the floor, the train-soldier that
helps, the old soldier with the cloak, his neighbor, and his dead neighbor)
helps, the old soldier with the cloak, his neighbor, and his dead neighbor)
Abridged Versions: No break in Bell.
Gibian: Chapter 15: line break instead of chapter break.
Gibian: Chapter 15: line break instead of chapter break.
Fuller: entire chapter is cut.
Komroff: A lot of the detail to set up the hospital is removed. Throughout the chapter a lot of detail is cut but the basic episode is retained.
Kropotkin: Chapter 8: Chapter breaks off without a break after "and begged the assistant to show him the way", removing all of Rostof's time in the soldier's room and cutting to him in the officer's ward.
Simmons: Chapter 15: the dead soldier at the end is cut, with the chapter breaking off with a line break after "lowering his eyes".
Simmons: Chapter 15: the dead soldier at the end is cut, with the chapter breaking off with a line break after "lowering his eyes".
Additional Notes:
Roberts: Page 455: “For sheer concentration of effort, Friedland was Napoleon’s most impressive victory after Austerlitz and Ulm. At the cost of 11,500 killed, wounded and missing, he had utterly routed the Russians,
whose losses have been estimated at around 20,000 - or 43 per cent of their total - though only around twenty guns.”
Page 588: “Typhus fever is a disease of dirt; its causative organism, Rickettsia prowazekii, lies midway between the relatively large bacteria that cause syphilis and tuberculosis and the microscopic smallpox and
measles viruses. Carried by lice which infest unwashed bodies in the seams of dirty clothing, the organism is not transferred by the louse’s bite but through its excrement and corpse. It had been endemic in Poland
and western Russia for years.”
Page 589: “vaccinated...there was none to be had against typhus...typhus exanthematicus pathogen, known as ‘war plague’...The way to defeat them (lice) was to boil undergarments with a hot iron...The most eminent
physicians of the day assumed that it could break out spontaneously given ‘great hardship, colds, lack of the necessaries of life, and the consequent consumption of spoiled foodstuffs….The connection between
lice and typhus was not made until 1911. De Kerckhove got the symptoms absolutely right, however: The infection manifested itself through general malaise, accompained most often by a state of languor; a weak,
slow or irregular pulse; an alteration in facial straits; a difficulty executing movements….extreme fatigue, difficulty standing, lack of appetite; vertigo, ringing in the ear, nausea, headaches (590) were very frequent;
sometimes he suffered from vomiting; sometimes the tongue was covered in a white or yellow mucus…..In most cases, death followed. Up to 140,000 of Napoleon’s soldiers died of disease in 1812, the majority
of them from typhus but a significant number from dysentery and related illnesses.”
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