Sergei Alekseev - one hundred stories from Russian history. Audiobook: Sergey Alekseev “Stories about Peter the Great What young boyars studied abroad

Children's novel-newspaper No. 9, 2009

Sergey Alekseev

Stories about Tsar Peter I and his time

Artist Yu. Ivanov

What young boyars studied abroad

Buinosov and Kurnosov had no sooner forgotten the old tsarist grievances when a new one came along. Ordered
Peter gathered fifty of the noblest sons of the boyars and sent them abroad to study. Buynosov and Kurnosov had to send their sons as well.

A cry and crying arose in the boyars' houses. Mothers are running around, people are fussing, as if not a farewell, but grief in the house.

Buynosov’s wife was breaking up:

One son - and God knows where, into foreign lands, the devil in the mouth, the German in the mouth! I won't let you in! Will not give it back!

Tsits! - Buynosov shouted at his wife. - The sovereign's order, you fool! I wanted to go to Siberia,
to the gallows?

And in Kurnosov’s house there is no less screaming. And Kurnosov had to shout at his wife:

Stupid! You can’t break a butt with a whip, you can’t escape the adversary king! Be patient, old man.

A year later the young boyars returned. They were summoned to the king to determine the sovereign's
service.

Well, tell me, Buynosov, son of a boyar,” Peter demanded, “how was your life?”
Abroad.

“It was good, sir,” Buinosov replies. - They are affectionate, friendly people,
It’s not like our men are happy to grab each other’s beards.

Well, what did you learn?

- Much, sir! I learned to say “futter” instead of “father”, instead of
"mother" - "mutter".

Well, what else? - Peter asks.

I have also learned to bow, sir, and double and triple bows, I have learned to dance, and I know how to play overseas games.

Yes,” said Peter, “they taught you a lot.” Well, how did you like it abroad?

I really liked it, sir! I want to go to the Ambassadorial Prikaz: it hurts me too much for
live on the border.

Well, what do you say? - Peter asked young Kurnosov.

What can I say, sir... Ask.

Okay, says Peter. - Tell me, Kurnosov, son of a boyar, what is a form?
tification?

Fortification, sir,” answers Kurnosov, “is a military science that has
the purpose of protecting troops from the enemy. Every military commander needs to know fortification like the back of his hand.

Smart,” says Peter. - Smart. What is a pilot?

“Lotsia, sir,” Kurnosov replies, “is a description of the sea or river, indicating on it shallows and depths, winds and currents, everything that can become an obstacle on the ship’s path.” Pilotage, sir, is the first thing you need to know when taking on seafaring matters.

Efficient, efficient,” Peter says again. - What else did you learn?

“Yes, sir, I looked closely at everything,” Kurnosov replies, “how to build ships, and how mining is done there, and how to treat diseases.” Nothing, thanks to the Dutch and Germans. They are knowledgeable people, good people. I just think, sir, it’s not proper for us to criticize our own, Russian things. Our country is no worse, and our people are no worse, and our goodness is no less.

Well done! - said Peter. - Justified, consoled. - And Peter kissed young Kurnosov.

And you,” he said, turning to Buinosov, “see how I was a fool, so it remained. I wanted to go abroad! Look, Russia is not dear to you. Get out of my sight!

So young Buynosov remained in obscurity. And Kurnosov soon became a prominent person in the state.

Az, beeches, lead...

There were few literate people in Rus' at that time. They taught the kids here and there at churches, yes
Sometimes rich houses had guest teachers.

Under Peter, schools began to open. They were called digital. Studied in them
grammar, arithmetic and geography.

They also opened a school in the city of Serpukhov, which is halfway between Moscow and Tula. Had arrived
teacher.

The teacher has arrived at school and is waiting for the students. The day waits, the second, the third - no one
coming.

Then the teacher got together and began going from house to house to find out what was going on. I went into a house
called the owner, a local merchant.

Why, he asks, doesn’t his son go to school?

He has nothing to do there! - the merchant answers. - We lived without literacy, and he will live.
This demonic activity is school.

The teacher went to the second house, to the shoemaker.

Is school really our business? - the master answers. - Our business is to sew boots. There’s no point wasting time in vain, listening to all sorts of nonsense!

Then the teacher went to the Serpukhov governor and told him what was the matter. And the governor
He just throws up his hands.

What can I do? - speaks. - It's my father's business. Here it’s up to someone: one needs a diploma, and the other, apparently, doesn’t need a diploma.

The teacher looks at the governor and understands that there will be no help from him. He got angry and said:

If so, I will write to the sovereign himself.

The governor looked at the teacher. He looks determined. I understand: he will keep his threat.

Okay, don’t rush,” he says, “go to school.”

The teacher returned to school and began to wait. Soon he hears stomping outside the window. I looked: soldiers were walking with guns, leading the guys.

The children were accompanied by soldiers for a whole week. And then nothing, apparently, the fathers resigned themselves and got used to it. The students themselves began to run to school.

The teacher began to teach the children grammar. We started with letters.

“Az,” says the teacher. (This means the letter "a".)

“Az,” the students repeat in unison.

Buki, says the teacher. (This means the letter "b".)

Then came the arithmetic.

One and one, says the teacher, there will be two.

One and one are two, repeat the students.

Soon the children learned to write letters and add numbers. Found out where the Caspian
the sea, where is the Black, where is the Baltic. The guys learned a lot.

And one day Peter was traveling through Serpukhov to Tula. The tsar spent the night in Serpukhov, and in the morning he decided to go to school. Peter heard that fathers are reluctant to send their children to study. I decided to check it out. Peter enters the class, and it’s full of kids. Peter was surprised and asked the teacher how he gathered so many students.

The teacher told everything as it happened.

That's great! - Peter laughed. - Well done governor. This is our way. Right. I will order that in other places children are dragged to school by force. Our people are weak-minded, don’t understand their own benefits, and don’t care about the affairs of the state. And how we need literate people! The death of Russia without knowledgeable people.

Rejoice in the little things, then the big things will come

“It’s time for us to have our own newspaper,” Peter repeatedly said to his entourage. - From the newspaper, the merchant, the boyar, and the townsman benefit everyone.

And then Peter somehow disappeared from the palace. He did not appear until the evening, and many were already wondering if something bad had happened to the king.

Meanwhile, Peter was selecting together with the printer Fyodor Polikarpov
materials for the first issue of the Russian newspaper.

Polikarpov, tall, thin, with glasses at the very end of his nose, stands at attention in front of the Tsar, like a soldier, reading:

Sovereign, from the Urals, from Verkhotursk they report that the craftsmen there have cast many cannons.

Write,” says Peter, “let everyone know that the loss near Narva is nothing compared to what can be done at will.”

And also, sir, they report,” Polikarpov continues, “that four hundred cannons were cast from bell cast iron in Moscow.

And write this,” says Peter, “let them know that Peter did not remove the bells in vain.”

And from the Nevyanovsky plant, from Nikita Demidov, they write that the factory men started a riot and now the boyars and merchants can’t live from them.

“Don’t write this,” says Peter. - It’s better to send soldiers and punish the peasants for such things.

And from Kazan, sir, they write, Polikarpov continues, that they found a lot of oil and copper ore there.

Write this,” says Peter. - Let them know that in Rus' there is an endless supply of riches, those riches have not yet been counted...

Peter sits and listens. Then he takes the papers. He puts a red cross on what to print, and puts what is unnecessary aside.

Polikarpov reports more and more new things. And that the Indian king sent an elephant to the Moscow king, and that three hundred and eighty-six males and female, and much more.

And also,” says Peter, “write, Fedor, about schools, it’s great - so that everyone
they saw the benefits of this.

A few days later the newspaper was published. They called it “Vedomosti”. The newspaper turned out to be small, the font was small, it was difficult to read, there were no margins, the paper was gray. The newspaper is so-so. But Peter is pleased: first. He grabbed Vedomosti and ran to the palace. Whomever he meets
shows the newspaper.

Look, he says, it’s our own newspaper, Russian, the first!

Peter met Prince Golovin. And Golovin had a reputation knowledgeable person, had been abroad, knew foreign languages.

Golovin looked at the newspaper, curled his mouth and said:

What a newspaper, sir! I was in the German city of Hamburg, and there was a newspaper there!

The joy disappeared from Peter’s face as if by hand. He became gloomy and frowned.

Oh you! - he said. - You’re thinking in the wrong place, prince. And also Golovin! And also a prince! I found something to surprise - “in the German city of Hamburg”! I know it myself. Better, but someone else's. Tea, and things didn’t go well for them right away. Give it time. Rejoice in the little things, then the big things will come.

City by the sea

Soon Tsar Peter began new war with the Swedes. Russian troops won their first victories and reached the Gulf of Finland, to the place where the Neva River flows into the gulf.

The banks of the Neva are deserted: forests, swamps and impassable thickets. And it’s difficult to travel, and there’s nowhere to live. And the place is important: the sea.

A few days later, Peter took Menshikov, got into a boat and went to the sea. At the very confluence of the Neva into the sea there is an island. Peter got out of the boat and began to walk around the island. The island is long and smooth, like the palm of your hand. Frail bushes stick out like tufts, there is moss and dampness underfoot.

What a place, sir! - said Menshikov.

What is the place? “A place is a place,” answered Peter. - Notable place: the sea.

Oh yes Aleksashka, oh yes the view! - Peter laughed.

What a damn place! - Menshikov said with offense. - Sir, let's go back. There is no point in measuring these swamps.

Why go back, go forward, Danilych. “Tea, they came here to host, not as guests,” Peter answered and walked towards the sea.

Menshikov reluctantly trudged behind.

“But look,” Peter turned to Menshikov. - You say there is no life,
Is this not life for you?

Peter approached the hummock, carefully parted the bushes, and Menshikov saw the nest. IN
There was a bird sitting in the nest. She looked at people and did not fly away.

“Look,” said Menshikov, “you’re brave!”

The bird suddenly flapped its wing, took off, and began to rush around the bush.

Finally, Peter and Menshikov went to the sea. Big, gloomy, it has a camel's hump -
We rolled in our waves, tossed against the shore, and hit the pebbles.

Peter stood with his shoulders back, breathing deeply. The sea wind ruffled the hem of the caftan, now turning the outer side green, now the inner side red. Peter looked into the distance.

There, hundreds of miles to the west, lay other countries, other shores.

Menshikov was sitting on a rock, changing his shoes.

Danilych! - said Peter. Either Peter said it quietly, or Menshikov pretended not to hear, but he did not answer.

Danilych! - Peter spoke again.

Menshikov became wary.

Here, by the sea,” Peter waved his hand, “here, by the sea,” he repeated, “we will build a city.”

Menshikov even lost his boots.

City? - he asked again. - Here, in these swamps, is there a city?!

“Yes,” answered Peter and walked along the shore.

And Menshikov held the boot and looked in surprise and admiration at the retreating figure of Peter.

To build a new city, craftsmen from all over Russia gathered to the Neva: carpenters, joiners, masons, and ordinary peasants.

Together with his father, Silanty Dymov, he came to new town and little Nikita. They assigned Dymov a place, like other workers, in a damp dugout. Nikitka settled next to his father on the same bunk.

Morning. Four o'clock. A cannon is firing over the city. This is a signal. The workers stand up, and Nikitkin’s father stands up. Workers dig in the mud and swamp all day long. They dig ditches, cut down timber, carry heavy logs. They return home after dark. They will come tired, hang wet footcloths near the stove, place holey boots and bast shoes, sip empty cabbage soup and lie down on their bunks. They sleep until the morning like the dead.

And as soon as it’s light, the gun roars again.

Nikita is alone all day. Everything is interesting to Nikita: the fact that there are a lot of people, and there are so many soldiers, and the sea is nearby. Nikita has never seen so much water. It's scary to even look at. Nikitka ran to the pier and marveled at the ships. I walked around the city, watched as clearings were cut down in the forest, and then houses were stacked along the clearings.

The workers got used to Nikitka. They will look at him - home, family will remember. Loved Nikita. “Nikita, bring some water,” they’ll ask. Nikita is running. “Nikita, tell me how you stole tobacco from a soldier.” Nikita says.

Nikitka lived happily until autumn. But autumn came and the rains began. Nikita is bored. He sits all day long in a dugout, alone, with water up to his knees in the dugout. Nikita is bored.

Then Silanty cut out a toy from a log for his son - a soldier with a gun.

Nikitka cheered up.

Get up! - gives a command.

The soldier stands and doesn’t blink an eye.

Get down! - Nikita shouts, and he imperceptibly pushes the soldier with his hand.

Nikita will play enough and start scooping up water. Drags water to the street, only
will take a break - and the water will fill up again. At least cry!

Soon famine began in the city. There was no food stockpiled for the fall, and the roads were wet. Diseases came. People began to die like flies.

The time has come, Nikita also fell ill. One day the father returned from work, and the boy had a fever. Nikita rushes about on the bunk, asking for a drink. Silantius did not leave his son all night. I didn't go to work this morning. And in the afternoon an officer and soldiers came into the dugout.

Don't you know the order?! - the officer shouted at Silantius.

My son is here. Ailing. My little son is dying...

But the officer did not listen. He gave the command, the soldiers twisted Silantia’s arms and drove him to work. And when he returned, Nikita had already gone cold.

Nikita, Nikita! - Silantiy bothers his son.

Nikita is lying there, not moving. Lying nearby is Nikitka’s toy - a soldier with a gun. Nikita is dead.

They didn’t make Nikita’s coffin. They were buried, like everyone else, in a common grave.

Silantius did not live long after this. By the frost, Silantius was taken to the cemetery. Many people died then. Many peasant bones perished in swamps and swamps.

The city that Nikitkin's father built was St. Petersburg.

A few years later this city became the capital of the Russian state.

About Danila

Danila was known throughout the area as a smart guy. He had his own idea about every matter.

After Narva, the only talk in the village was about the Swedes, King Charles, Tsar Peter and military affairs.

The Swede is strong, strong,” the men said, “no match for us.” And why do we need the sea? Lived
and we will live without the sea.

That’s not true,” said Danila. - The Swede is not strong, but we are weak. And it’s wrong about the sea. Russia cannot be without the sea. And catch fish, and conduct trade, for many things the sea
necessary.

And when the bells were removed, there was noise again in the village for several days.

The end of the world is coming! - the deacon shouted and tore out his hair.

The women cried, crossed themselves, the men walked around gloomily, everyone expected trouble. And Danila is not like everyone else here either. Again in my own way.

That’s how it should be,” he said. - Here the interest for the state is more valuable than the bells. The Lord God will not judge you for such things.

Blasphemer! - Father called Danila then and from that time on he harbored a great grudge against him.

And soon Peter introduced new taxes. The men groaned and dragged the last ones to the treasury
crumbs.

Well, how do you like,” they asked Danila, “the Tsar’s new order?” Right again?

No,” answered Danila, “the Tsar and I do not have a common agreement on everything.”

Look! - the men snapped. - He and the king! I found a friend. The king won't even look at you.

He won’t do much, but he won’t forbid thinking in his own way,” answered Danila. - What brings glory to the state, thanks to Peter, but what takes three skins off a man - the time will come, he will be responsible for it.

The men agree with Danila and nod their heads. And take one and shout:

And you tell the king himself about that!

And I’ll tell you,” Danila answered.

And said. It just didn’t happen right away, and here’s how.

Someone reported Danilov’s speeches to the authorities. Soldiers arrived in the village, tied up Danila, and took him to Moscow to the chief, to Prince Romodanovsky himself.

They twisted Danila’s hands, pulled him up on the rack, and began to torture him.

What did he say about the sovereign, who advised him? - asks Prince Romodanovsky.

“What I said was carried away by the wind,” Danila answers.

What?! - Romodanovsky shouted. - Yes, for such speeches you will be impaled, you vile troublemaker!

Plant,” Danila answers. - For a man, it’s all the same where to be. Maybe on a stake is even better than bending your back against the boyars.

Prince Romodanovsky got angry, grabbed an iron rod red-hot in the fire and applied it to Danila’s naked body. Danila became exhausted and hung like a bast.

And at this time Peter entered the hut.

Why is the man on the rack?

Troublemaker, says Prince Romodanovsky. - Against the authorities, sir, bad
says

Peter approached Danila. He opened his eyes slightly and looked at the king in front of him. Got enough
then Danila gave strength and said:

Eh, sir, you started a great thing, but the common people lost their lives. They knocked everything out of the people, like highway robbers. The people, sir, will not forget about such deeds; they will not remember them with a kind word.

And Danila closed his eyes again and dropped his head onto his hairy chest. And Peter seemed to be burned from the inside. He jerked his head to the left, to the right, and threw an angry gaze at Danila.

Hang! - he shouted, as if stung, and walked away from the hut.

For Russian glory

In 1704, Russian troops approached Narva for the second time. The difficult battle ended in complete victory for the Russians.

Peter and Menshikov rode out of the fortress on horseback. Following, a little further away, a group of Russian generals rode. With his shoulders hunched, Peter sat heavily in the saddle and looked wearily at the red withers of his horse. Menshikov, standing up in his stirrups, kept turning his head from side to side and waving his hat in greeting to the oncoming soldiers and officers.

We drove in silence.

“Sire,” Menshikov suddenly said, “Pyotr Alekseevich, look. - And he pointed to the bank of the Narova.

Peter looked. On the river bank, with its barrel raised up, stood a cannon. Soldiers crowded around the cannon, surrounding it on all sides. Climbing onto the carriage with a ladle in his hand, stood the sergeant. He lowered the ladle into the barrel of the cannon, scooped something up with it and distributed it to the soldiers.

“Sir,” said Menshikov, “look, they don’t drink at all.” Well, we came up with it! Look, sir: wine has been poured into the barrel of the cannon! Hey, scorers! Eagles! Heroes!

Peter smiled. Stopped the horse. Soldiers' voices began to be heard.

What are we going to drink for? - asks the sergeant and looks expectantly at the soldiers.

For Tsar Peter! - rushes back.

For Narva!

For the glorious city of St. Petersburg!

For artillery!

For the comrades who laid down their bellies!

Danilych,” said Peter, “let’s go to the sea.”

An hour later, Peter stood at the very water. The waves licked the soles of Peter's large boots. The king crossed his arms and looked into the distance. Menshikov stood a little further away.

Danilych,” Pyotr called Menshikov, “do you remember our conversation then, in Novgorod?

What about Narva?

That's it. It turns out that it was not in vain that we came here, shed Russian blood and sweat.

Not in vain, sir.

And the factories, it turns out, were not built in vain. And schools...

That’s right, that’s right,” Menshikov echoes.

Danilych, now it’s not a sin for us to drink. Isn’t it a sin, Danilych?

That's right, sir.

So what are we going to drink for?

For Tsar Peter Alekseevich! - Menshikov blurted out.

Fool! - Peter interrupted. - You need to drink for the sea, for Russian glory.

“MY BOOKS FOR THOSE WHO LOVE THEIR NATIVE HISTORY, WHO ARE PROUD OF OUR THE GREAT PAST WHO, HAVING BEEN AN ADULT, WILL NOT SPARE HIS STRENGTH TO CREATE A RICH AND FAIR STATE ON OUR ANCIENT LAND.”

Alekseev Sergei Petrovich was born on April 1, 1922 in Ukraine. There, in the wide open spaces of the countryside, eight happy childhood years passed. Then little Sergei’s parents sent him to Moscow, to his aunts, to receive a capital education.

School, flying club, flight school. Then all the boys dreamed of becoming pilots - Chkalov, Baidukov, Belyakov. Sergei was no exception.

On June 22, 1941, flight school cadet Sergei Alekseev met on the western border - their entire course was sent there for “practice.” And on the very first day of the war there was a bombing. German planes destroyed our entire airfield along with the pilots. Alekseev was among the few survivors.

Then he worked as an instructor pilot. And then there was an accident - the engine stalled during a training flight. Treatment in a hospital, a sanatorium and futile attempts to return to
aviation.

While still in the army, S. Alekseev graduated from the institute in absentia. A diploma of higher education gave him the right to become an editor at the Detgiz publishing house. There he began to write. Soon his books, written lively and excitingly, won the hearts of young readers.

Writer S.P. Alekseev was awarded the title of laureate of the State Prize of the RSFSR and the Lenin Komsomol Prize, an international diploma named after H. H. Andersen and many domestic awards. S.P. Alekseev’s books have been translated into dozens of languages ​​around the world. He wrote stories about the first Russian Tsar Ivan the Terrible, about the uprising of Stepan Razin, about Catherine the Second, about Suvorov, about the feat of the Russian people in Patriotic War 1812, about the fate of the Decembrists, about the Great Patriotic War.

The writer died in 2008.

Audiobook “Stories about Peter the Great”, created based on the works of an expert on Russian history and a remarkable children's writer Sergei Petrovich Alekseev is a lively and fascinating journey into the past of our Motherland. Listening stories awaken children's interest in studying the history of the Fatherland, teach them to be proud of their ancestors, and cultivate patriotism. In accessible language, the audiobook talks interestingly and entertainingly about the era of Peter I, about the great state transformations and military campaigns of the reformer tsar.
Young listeners will learn about children's fun little Peter, about the creation of a fleet and factories in the Urals, about victories and defeats in the war with the Swedes for access to the Baltic Sea, about the construction of St. Petersburg. About how Peter I cut the beards of the boyars, and about what digital schools are, how the first one appeared Russian newspaper and what the young boyars studied abroad. And also about the drummer of the bombardment company, Babat Barabyk, and how the Tsar’s closest comrade-in-arms, Alexander Menshikov, started a masquerade battle...

Content
Chapter 1 - On the Narova RiverHike
Bombardier Company Captain
“Without Narva you can’t see the sea”
"Talk, Sovereign, to the soldiers"
“He who is a coward, go to the convoy”
About two men
“Fear is worse than death!”
“Let the devil himself fight with such soldiers!”
How Major Pil accepted death
“The students will learn and thank their teachers” Chapter 2 - Rejoice in the little things, then the big things will come “Sir, allow me to speak”
Bells
“Hay, straw!”
About boyar beards
What young boyars studied abroad
Az, beeches, lead...
Let everyone know
Rejoice in the little things, then the big things will come"
Mitka the liar
About DanilaChapter 3 - On the Neva RiverBoats go on land
“Sovereign Peter Alekseich ordered a retreat!”
The Swedes threw out the white flag
The unprecedented happens
On the banks of the Neva
City by the sea
Gold ruble Chapter 4 - Narva again, hike again
Masquerade fight
Babat Barabyka
Storm
General Gorn's sword
For Russian glory

"Children's audiobook" series on the tracker

Alekseev Sergey, Alekseeva Valentina - Stories about the Mongol-Tatar invasion [Vyacheslav Gerasimov, 2014, 64 kbps, MP3]
Alekseev Sergey, Alekseeva Valentina - Stories about the Time of Troubles [Vyacheslav Gerasimov, 2014, 64 kbps, MP3]
Alekseev Sergey - Stories about the Decembrists [Vyacheslav Gerasimov, 2014, 64 kbps, MP3]
Alekseev Sergey - Stories about Ivan the Terrible [Vyacheslav Gerasimov, 2014, 256 kbps, MP3]
Alekseev Sergey - Stories about Stepan Razin [Gerasimov Vyacheslav, 2014, 64 kbps, MP3]
Alekseev Sergey - Stories about Peter the Great [Vyacheslav Gerasimov, 2014, 64 kbps, MP3]
Alekseev Sergey - Stories about Suvorov [Gerasimov Vyacheslav, 2014, 64 kbps, MP3]
Alekseev Sergey - Stories about Catherine the Great [Vyacheslav Gerasimov, 2014, 320 kbps, MP3]

Add. information: Release of the Audiobook Fans Club, thank you! Thanks to olegas88 for providing the book!

In a book written in living, figurative language, the reader will be presented with bright pictures the historical past of our Motherland - Russia, people who left a deep mark on its history: Stepan Razin, Peter the Great, Suvorov, Kutuzov, the Decembrists.

Designed for children of primary and secondary school age.

Alekseev S. P
One hundred stories from Russian history

From the author

What made Field Marshal Suvorov famous?

What is Kutuzov famous for?

Why do people carefully preserve the name of Stepan Razin in their stories, legends, and songs?

Why do we still remember Peter the Great now, many generations later?

Who were the Decembrists, what did they fight for?

Our Motherland is great.

There were a lot of complex and difficult things in her history.

A lot of beautiful and great things.

We have something to remember and be proud of.

Here are stories about what happened.

About our Fatherland and people.

STORIES ABOUT STEPAN RAZIN, THE COSSACKS AND THE RISING PEOPLE

RIDER

A detachment of horsemen rode through a peasant field. The horsemen climbed up the hill. They look, what a miracle? A man plows the land. Just not the horse in his plow. Instead of a horse, three people harnessed themselves: a peasant wife, an old mother and a young son.

People will pull the plow, pull, stop and start working again.

The horsemen rode up to the plowman.

The main one cast a stern look:

What are you, such and such, people instead of cattle!

The peasant looks - in front of him is a man of enormous stature. A hat with a red top on the head. Green boots on morocco feet. Elegant caftan. Under the caftan there is a colored shirt. The whip is twisted in the hands.

“Apparently, he’s a boyar, and maybe even a governor himself,” the man thinks.

He fell at the feet of the noble master and stretched out on the furrow.

Orphans, we are orphans. I don't have a horse. The breadwinner was taken away for debts.

The rider's face twisted. He got down to the ground. He turned to the peasant.

The man backed away, jumped up and ran away in fright.

Stop, you're on foot! Stop! Where?! - a mocking voice rang out.

The man timidly returned back.

Here, take the horse. - The man handed the man the reins.

The peasant was taken aback. The wife and old mother froze. The little son's mouth opened. They are looking. They don't believe such a miracle.

The horse is stately and tall. Gray color, covered in apples. Princely horse.

“The master is joking,” the man decides. Costs. It won't budge.

Take it. Look, I’ll change my mind,” the man threatened. And he went off into the field.

The horsemen rushed after. Only one young man hesitated for a minute; he accidentally dropped his tobacco pouch.

“The Almighty, the Almighty sent it,” the peasant whispered in shock.

The man turned to the horse. And suddenly he got scared. Isn't all this witchcraft? I reached out to him. The horse pulled it with its hoof.

The man grabbed the bruised area.

Real! - howled with great happiness. - Who are you, where are you from?! - he rushed to the young guy.

People are vagrant. Falcons are free. “The winds of spring,” the young man winked mysteriously.

Who should I pray for? Who is the one in the hat?

Razin. Stepan Timofeevich Razin! - the horseman shouted straight away.

STRELETSKY PLANES

Razin, Razin is coming!

Stepan Timofeevich!

1670 There is unrest in the Russian state. The boyars and the royal servants are in great alarm. The forced, oppressed people rose up and roused themselves. Peasants, Cossacks, Bashkirs, Tatars, Mordovians. Hundreds of them, great thousands.

The dashing ataman leads the peasant army Don Cossack Stepan Timofeevich Razin.

Glory to Razin, glory!

The rebels approached Tsaritsyn. We stopped just above the city, on the steep bank of the Volga. We set up camp.

“We should take Tsaritsyn without delay,” there was talk among the Cossacks.

In the evening, in the dark, the townspeople came to Razin:

Come, father, rule. Little people are waiting for you in Tsaritsyn. There are few Sagittarius people, and even those are not a hindrance. We'll open the gates for you.

Take it, take it, ataman, Tsaritsyn,” the advisers press.

However, Razin was in no hurry. He knew that from above along the Volga a large army of Streltsy was moving on plows towards Tsaritsyn.

The archers have guns, muskets, squeaks, and more than enough gunpowder. Sagittarius are trained in military affairs. They are led by a noble commander, Head Lopatin. “How can we defeat such an army with less strength?” thinks Razin. “You won’t be able to bury yourself here in the city. Unless you hold out longer. But we would like to be at the root. In a full Cossack sweep.”

Lopatin swims closer and closer to Tsaritsyn.

Take, ataman, the stronghold! - the Cossacks shout.

The chieftain is in no hurry, he hesitates.

Every day Lopatin sends spies ahead. They report to the boss how the Cossacks are behaving.

They are standing on steep slopes. The city is not touched.

“Fools,” Lopatin chuckles. “There is not a good commander among them.”

Father, father, father, take Tsaritsyn, - the rebels beg their ataman.

Razin is silent, as if he doesn’t hear calls.

By this time the Lopatin caravan reached the Cossack steeps. Shooting started from there.

“Shoot, shoot,” Lopatin sarcastically. “What matters is who shoots victoriously.”

Lopatin is happy. Rubbing his hands.

And suddenly... What is it?! Cannonballs rained down from the Tsaritsyn walls. One, two, ten. They fly into the royal planes. The plows tilt and sink like paper ships.

On the high city wall, someone noticed a broad-shouldered Cossack in an ataman caftan.

Razin, Razin in Tsaritsyn!

Robbers are in town!

Stop, turn back!

But at this time, as if on command, boats with Cossacks rushed towards the caravan from both the left and right banks of the Volga. Like bees for honey, the Razins climbed onto the Streltsy plows.

Beat them! Smash!

Cut off the head!

The Streltsy plows surrendered.

Cunning, cunning ataman, the rebels admired after the victory. - Look, you deceived your head. Before last minute I didn’t take Tsaritsyn.

The head has a head, Razin has two, the Razins joked for a long time.

WILL NOT CONDEMN

Boyar Truba - Nashchekin tortured his serf. They twisted the unfortunate man's arms and legs and tied him to the bench with reins. The boyar stands nearby with a whip in his hand, hitting the peasant’s bare back.

So for you, so for you, homespun tribe. Get it from me, slave. I’ll teach you to take off your hat in front of the master.

Trumpet will hit Naschekin with a whip, pull the belt towards himself so that the skin will rip open until it bleeds. He catches his breath and splashes salt water on the wound. And again for the whip.

The audiobook “Stories about Peter the Great”, created at the ARDIS studio based on the works of the expert on Russian history and wonderful children's writer Sergei Petrovich Alekseev, is a lively and fascinating journey into the past of our Motherland. Listening stories awaken children's interest in studying the history of the Fatherland, teach them to be proud of their ancestors, and cultivate patriotism. In an accessible language, interesting and entertaining, the audiobook talks about the era of Peter I, the great state transformations and military campaigns of the reformer tsar. Young listeners will learn about the childhood fun of little Peter, about the creation of a fleet and factories in the Urals, about victories and defeats in the war with the Swedes for access to the Baltic Sea, about the construction of St. Petersburg. About how Peter I cut the beards of the boyars, and what digital schools are, how the first Russian newspaper appeared and what young boyars studied abroad. And also about the drummer of the bombardment company, Babat Barabyk, and how the Tsar’s closest comrade-in-arms, Alexander Menshikov, started a masquerade battle...

The work was published in 2012 by the publishing house Iskatel. The book is part of the "Schoolchildren's Library" series. The book's rating is 4.47 out of 5. Here, before reading, you can also turn to reviews from readers who are already familiar with the book and find out their opinion. In our partner's online store you can buy and read the book in paper form.

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Alekseev, Sergey Trofimovich

Sergei Trofimovich Alekseev(b. 01/20/1952) - modern Russian writer.

Biography

Sergei Trofimovich Alekseev was born on January 20, 1952 in the village of Aleyka, Zyryansky district, Tomsk region. Since childhood, he began to engage in hunting and fishing. I studied at a school located seven kilometers from home, where I had to travel on foot every day.

After finishing 8th grade, he went to work as a hammer hammer in the forge of an industrial plant, while continuing to study at night school. In 1968 he entered the Tomsk Geological Exploration College. At night he worked part-time at a candy factory. In 1970, he volunteered for the army, served in a special-purpose battalion in Moscow, and guarded the facilities of the third special department of the USSR Ministry of Finance. He was demobilized in 1972 with the rank of senior sergeant and continued his studies at the technical school, periodically going to practice in field search teams. After graduating in 1974, he went to work as a geologist on a polar expedition to Taimyr.

A year later he returned to the city of Tomsk and joined the police, began working as a criminal investigation inspector, and received the rank of lieutenant. At the same time, he entered the Faculty of Law of Tomsk State University to study by correspondence.

In 1977, he retired from the police, dropped out of university and plunged headlong into the world of creativity, starting to write stories and novellas. From 1978 and the next few years, he worked in the Tomsk integrated geological exploration expedition, in the Tomsk regional newspaper “Krasnoe Znamya” as a correspondent for the department of oil geology and construction, and even as a technician at a research institute High Voltage. Participated in solo expeditions to Old Believer hermitages, the Northern and Subpolar Urals and other places. They were subsequently reflected in such novels as “The Word”, “Treasures of the Valkyrie”, “Wolf’s Grip”, etc.

From 1985 to the present, Sergei Trofimovich Alekseev lives and works in Vologda. He is interested in hunting and construction: he personally built five houses, about a dozen baths, a chapel on the grave of his mother and grandfather, built six Russian stoves, including one adobe, and two fireplaces.

Creation

I first wrote a story in 1976, but I got scared and burned it in order to resist temptation. However, a year later, Alekseev was again drawn to literature.

In the first novels he followed mainly the traditions of the so-called