The coat of arms and flag of Iceland: a brief historical excursion. Iceland coat of arms Iceland flag and coat of arms meaning

Icelandic coat of arms(Skjaldarmerki Í lands ) V modern form adopted in 1944. It is a blue shield with a red cross on a silver cross. The shield is held by four patrons ( landvæ ttir ) Iceland standing on a piece of lava. Bull ( Grið ungur) - patron saint of South-West Iceland, eagle or griffin ( Gammur) - Northwestern, dragon ( Dreki) - Northeast, giant ( Bergrisi) - South-East. These creatures were held in high esteem in Iceland, and so there was a law in Viking days that no ship could land on the shores of Iceland without having an image of one of the creatures on its ship (most often a dragon's head was used).

The patrons are depicted on the obverse of the Icelandic Crown, while the reverse depicts ocean animals (fish, crabs and dolphins). The Icelandic authorities use the Icelandic flag with a forked end with the Coat of Arms. The Icelandic National Police uses a white flag with the Coat of Arms when the use of the national flag is not permitted. Some other government services can do the same.

The Icelandic government uses a national flag with a coat of arms. The Icelandic police use a yellow flag with a coat of arms.

Iceland has used several coats of arms over the centuries.

The first one is probably- a shield with six blue and six silver stripes, symbolizing the 12 Things of the Icelandic Commonwealth

The second one is probably- coat of arms of the county of Iceland, granted by King Haakon of Norway IV Count Gissur Thorvaldsson in 1258. The shield depicted a red lion with an ax on a yellow background above and against the background of white and blue stripes from the previous coat of arms below.

Around 1500, the coat of arms of Iceland became a crowned stockfish on a red shield.

On October 3, 1903, the coat of arms of Iceland was replaced by a white falcon on a blue background. It was used until the official adoption of the first version of the coat of arms with patrons on February 12, 1919. The falcon was used on the royal coat of arms of Denmark under King Christian X.

Under Frederick IX in April 1947 the current coat of arms was adopted.

Flag of Iceland (Íslenski faninn ) was officially approved by the “Law on the National Flag of the Icelanders and the State Emblem” No. 34 of June 17, 1944, the day Iceland became an independent republic. The law describes the flag as follows:

The civil national flag of the Icelanders is blue as the sky with a snowy white cross and a fiery red cross inside a white cross. The ends of the cross reach the edges of the flag, their width is 2/9, and the red cross is 1/9 of the width of the flag. The blue fields of the flag are regular rectangles; the width and length of the pole (internal) fields are the same, and the length of the free (external) fields is twice as large as their width. The ratio of the flag's width to its length is 18:25.

The colors of the flag are associated with the Icelandic landscape: red is the color of fire Icelandic volcanoes, white is the color of ice and snow, and blue is the color of the waters of the Atlantic Ocean surrounding the island.

National flag of Iceland (isl.Tjúgufáni ) differs from the national one in length and the presence of two braids formed by a triangular cutout in the free part of the flag. The length of the blue fields in the free part of the flag is three times their width. The cut goes from the edge of the free part to the horizontal axis of the flag, cutting off a triangle with sides equal to 3/7 of the length of the field and the width of the field from the blue field. The cut line, having reached the red cross, crosses it vertically. The proportions of the flag are 9:16.

Iceland's first national flag, known as the "Vitblain" (Fig.Hvítbláinn , literally: “white and blue”), was a white cross on a dark blue background. It was first raised in 1897. On November 22, 1913, a royal decree of Denmark confirmed Iceland's right to its own flag, and on June 19, 1915, the Althing approved the national flag of the island, similar to the modern one: the white cross was supplemented by an internal red cross. In 1918, Denmark recognized the sovereignty of Iceland as part of a union. On February 12, 1919, King Christian X of Denmark and Iceland approved the Icelandic flag. In 1944, after achieving full independence, the flag remained almost unchanged, but its blue color acquired a darker shade (in the period from 1918 to 1944 it was defined as ultramarine). The design of the flag reflects the Scandinavian tradition, coming from the flag of Denmark. The red color of the cross also recalls Danish influence. Blue and white are the traditional colors of Iceland and are associated with the colors of the Order of the Silver Falcon.

Iceland was originally settled by immigrants from Norway. Opponents of the then Harald fled to the island, not wanting to submit to his autocratic power. While settling the country, the settlers retained their social foundations, formed in the “pre-state time.” All issues were resolved by the people's assembly or internally. Therefore, at that time the country did not have any centralized government, and as a result there was no need for such symbols of state power as the coat of arms and flag of Iceland. This form of government existed until the beginning of the 13th century, when Iceland was forced to recognize first Norway and then the Danish king as the supreme power.

The first mentions of heraldry date back to the Middle Ages. Then they represented the personal coats of arms of the Icelandic knights and orders that had received the right to do so, with which Iceland was full at that time. The coat of arms and flag usually contained images of animals (falcons, polar bears, etc.), whose spirits were believed to patronize the knights.

At the same time, a heraldic element appeared, which is also present on the modern state emblem, namely shield-bearing spirits, guardians of all Iceland: a giant, a bird, a bull, a dragon.

The first coats of arms of Iceland

Presumably the first official coats of arms of Iceland date back to 1265-1285. The heraldic atlases of that time depict the coat of arms of the King of Iceland, and in fact one of the coats of arms of the Norwegian monarch, to whom the Icelanders swore allegiance. The coat of arms is a scarlet lion with a battle ax on a shield. It also includes a modified symbol of the then Norway with the colors replaced by the opposite ones. What flag Iceland had during this historical period has not yet been reliably established. The belonging of the found signs to Iceland has not been definitely proven and causes controversy among historians and heraldists.

Cod on the coat of arms of Iceland

Presumably, the first to use the image of cod on their seals as a symbol of Iceland were merchants who traded and had their own enterprises in this state. This image on a shield was first discovered in a manuscript dating back to 1360, and it was subsequently used as a coat of arms in all medieval documents. Whether the cod design was used as the flag of Iceland or not has not been established by historians at present.

The fish was depicted on the personal seal of the Danish king, intended for the governor of Iceland. One such silver print depicting a crown and cod is on display in National Museum Iceland.

The use of this fish as a national symbol at that time had a good reason. Cod was the main commercial and export product, and its appearance on coats of arms and seals seems quite justified. On the royal seal of Denmark, this symbol of Iceland existed until the first half of the 19th century, later it was replaced by an image of a falcon.

Coat of arms of the Kingdom of Iceland

In October 1903, by decree of the Danish king, the coat of arms became a falcon on a blue background. Residents saw it as a more appropriate national symbol than a headless fish. This proud bird was also featured on the Royal Flag of Iceland. At the same time, the highest state award was established - the Order of the Falcon.

Icelandic Republic

In 1940, Nazi Germany completely occupied Denmark. At the end of the war, Iceland was occupied by troops of the Anglo-American coalition, and national council held a referendum, in June 1944 the independent Icelandic Republic was proclaimed.

It was decided to abandon the crown on the state emblem, but to retain the main elements, such as the shield and shield-bearing spirits. A slab of volcanic basalt was chosen as the base of the coat of arms.

Interesting fact: when discussing options for the coat of arms of the new republic, the authorities sought advice from professional heraldists of the Vatican. But they were so busy designing personal coats of arms for cardinals and bishops that they missed the chance to create a symbol for an entire state.

National flag

"Quitblaun" (Isl. Hvítbláinn, translated as "white and blue") was the first national flag and was a rectangle with a dark blue background and a white cross. The country's right to have its own flag was confirmed by decree on November 22, 1913, and already on June 19, 1915, the supreme council (Althing) approved a law determining what the Icelandic flag looks like. Another internal one, red, was added to the white cross. Denmark's recognition of sovereignty within the framework of the union occurred in 1918, and on February 12, 1919, the official flag of Iceland was approved by decree of the king. After the declaration of full independence in 1944, there were no fundamental changes to the flag, only it became darker. The design reflects Scandinavian traditions and is derived from the Danish state symbol. The red color on it reminds us that the country was under the protectorate of Denmark for a long time. White and blue colors are traditional and come from the symbolism of the Silver Falcon.

Also, the colors of the flag are associated with Icelandic landscapes: red is the fire of Iceland's volcanoes, white is snow and ice, blue is the water of the Atlantic Ocean around the island.

National flag

In addition to the national flag, there is also a state flag of Iceland, which is distinguished by the presence of a triangular cutout at the free end. The length of the blue fields on the free part is three times greater than the width. Days of obligatory raising of national and national flags determined by a special law.

The coat of arms of Iceland did not become a product of modern times, although it appeared in 1944 simultaneously with the emergence of the Icelandic Republic. On the contrary, the main Icelandic emblem continued the tradition of the ancient ideas of the Icelanders about their homeland and culture. Back in 1919, the royal coat of arms in the form of a gyrfalcon on a blue field was replaced by a new one, depicting a shield and holding spirits. Since Iceland remained a kingdom at that time, the top of the shield was crowned with a royal crown.

Updated symbol

The modern Icelandic coat of arms is in many ways reminiscent of the royal one from 1919. In 1944, it was decided to keep the royal coat of arms of the Icelandic Republic, but with some changes. First of all, the crown that crowned the top of the shield was removed; The display style of holding spirits was also changed; In addition, the developers of the symbol changed the base of the coat of arms.

Nowadays, the main element of the Icelandic coat of arms remains an azure shield. It depicts a silver Latin cross, inside of which there is another red cross. Main feature This coat of arms are the spirit holders. There are four of them in total and each of them is associated with a specific part of the island of Iceland.

• The bull is the patron saint of the southwestern lands;
• Vulture is the patron saint of the northwestern territories;
• The dragon is the owner of the northeastern lands;
• The giant is the prince of the southeastern domains.

Each of the guardian spirits looks towards their lands. The entire structure is supported by a base of columnar basalt stone.

Land Defenders

The Icelandic coat of arms, personifying the spirit holders in the form of fairy-tale characters, dates us back to the Viking era and sagas. Most likely, it captures the story of the Heimskringli Saga, which reports on the perception of the world by an Icelander living in the 12th century. At this time, Iceland did not yet have established statehood, but the era of military democracy continued. The island of Iceland has always been interesting to invaders; the Danish king Harald Bluetooth also wanted to conquer it.

Wanting to carry out his plans, Harald sent his sorcerer to Iceland, who was supposed to find out the easiest way to capture the island. When he tried to land on the eastern shores, he was forced to flee because of a terrible dragon. On the northern shores he was forced to flee from a giant eagle, and in the west the sorcerer could not do anything against a giant bull. The southern lands were guarded by a man of gigantic stature, so here too the sorcerer failed. Since then, these characters have come to be considered the protective spirits of the Icelandic lands.

Gg. and currently kept at the Royal Dutch Association for Genealogy and Heraldry in The Hague, describes 1,312 medieval coats of arms. Most of them are French coats of arms, however, there are also German ones, as well as 56 royal coats of arms of Europe, the Middle East and North Africa. One of the sheets shows the coat of arms of the king of Iceland, that is, the Norwegian king as king of Iceland, after the Icelanders swore allegiance to him in -. The caption reads: le Roi dillande, that is le Roi d'Islande(With fr.  -  “King of Iceland”). The coat of arms depicts a scarlet lion with a battle ax on a shield crossed 11 times in silver and azure with a golden head.

The coat of arms of the "King of Iceland" looks the same as the coat of arms of Norway, and was most likely based on it, with the colors reversed. Thus, the golden Norwegian lion on a scarlet field became the scarlet “Icelandic” lion on a golden field.

Sveinn Björnsson) signed the decree on the state emblem, which stated:

History of the coat of arms

Although not common, personal coats of arms were also found in medieval Iceland. Chroniclers mentioned "images on shields" (for example, a lion, an eagle or a deer), which were often the same as those on seals. In the 14th and 15th centuries, when Iceland was already a possession of the Danish crown, quite a few Icelanders were knighted and given the right to a coat of arms. For example, the coat of arms of Loftur Guttormsson (Il. Loftur Guttormsson) the Mighty was a white falcon on a blue field, but his seal was a snake. The coat of arms of Torfi Arason (Il. Torfi Arason) was a polar bear on a blue field and half a polar bear as a crest. The same coat of arms was used by Björn Thorleifsson (Isl. Björn Þorleifsson) Mighty, but his crest was a whole polar bear.

Icelandic coat of arms from L'Armorial Wijnbergen

French armorial officer Weinbergen (fr. L'Armorial Wijnbergen) compiled between - gg. and currently kept at the Royal Dutch Association for Genealogy and Heraldry in The Hague, describes 1,312 medieval coats of arms. Most of them are French coats of arms, however, there are also German ones, as well as 56 royal coats of arms of Europe, the Middle East and North Africa. One of the sheets shows the coat of arms of the king of Iceland, that is, the Norwegian king as king of Iceland, after the Icelanders swore allegiance to him in -. The caption reads: le Roi dillande, that is le Roi d'Islande(With fr.  - “King of Iceland”). The coat of arms depicts a scarlet lion with a battle ax on a shield crossed 11 times into silver and azure with a golden head. fr. burelé (12) d"argent et d"azur au chef d"or au lion de gueules brochant tenant une hache du même The coat of arms of the "King of Iceland" looks the same as the coat of arms of Norway, and was most likely based on it, with the colors reversed. Thus, the golden Norwegian lion on a scarlet field became the scarlet “Icelandic” lion on a golden field. If Warming's hypothesis is correct, the oldest coat of arms of Iceland will date back to the reign of King Haakon IV (Norwegian Håkon IV) in Norway. According to Warming, the accuracy with which the unknown French heraldist depicted the Norwegian lion may indicate his knowledge of Scandinavian heraldry. Warming's hypothesis has been repeatedly criticized in scientific circles. Doubts were expressed both about the coat of arms of the “King of Iceland” itself, and about the 12 stripes as the coat of arms of independent Iceland. The coat of arms from the armorial of Wijnbergen was called by some critics “fantastic”, invented by the French who were overly zealous in matters of heraldry. In response to criticism, Warming pointed out that the armorial of Wijnbergen extremely accurately depicts the coats of arms of not only countries neighboring France, but also countries of the “far abroad”, such as Scotland, the Isle of Man, Ireland, Orkney Islands and many others. Consequently, the coat of arms of the “King of Iceland” should also not be considered unreliable. Despite all the speculation about this, Warming was convinced that there was every conclusive evidence that the coat of arms with 12 silver and azure stripes was the original national emblem of Iceland.

Cod on the coat of arms of Iceland

It is not known for certain when the image of a fish (cod) became the emblem of Iceland. Merchants from Hamburg used this emblem on their seals around 1500, as did Lübeck merchants in Bergen around 1415. An image of a cod is found in the margin of an Icelandic manuscript (Stokkhólmsbók, no. 5, fol. royal library Stockholm), dating back to around 1360, and a map by Olaf Magnus published in 1539 in Venice Carta Marina depicts a cod on a shield similar to the later coat of arms of Iceland. All this strongly suggests the use of cod as an emblem of Iceland, as was the case on royal seals or Danish gold coins of 1591. An image of a cod was included in the Danish royal seal during the reign of Christian IV and remained there until 1819, during the reign of Frederick VI. In 1820, Denmark lost Norway and the Norwegian lion was removed from the national coat of arms of Denmark. Instead, the emblems of Iceland, Greenland and the Faroe Islands were included in the Danish coat of arms. The Icelandic emblem was in the lower right corner, and was an image of a silver cod crowned with a golden crown on a bright red field. In the second half of the 19th century, a campaign began to replace the cod as the symbol of Iceland with a white falcon on a blue field.

Gyrfalcon on the coat of arms of Iceland

By decree of the King of Denmark on October 3, 1903, it was prescribed that the coat of arms of Iceland should be a white Icelandic gyrfalcon on a blue field. Many Icelanders saw this strong, hardy and noble bird as a more suitable symbol for their country than the cod. For centuries, Iceland was famous in the Scandinavian world for its poets and falcons. Even when the aristocracy is in neighboring countries ceased to understand and appreciate the Icelandic poets, the falcon continued to be considered a valuable gift for several more centuries. Falconry was a favorite pastime of European and Asian aristocracies and has been known since ancient times. In the Scandinavian countries, this type of hunting has been known since pagan times, and distant Iceland was considered the homeland of the best falcons.

Coat of arms of the Kingdom of Iceland

The coat of arms with a falcon was not used for long. Already on February 12, 1919, a new coat of arms was adopted, having the same image as the flag of Iceland. The royal decree on the coat of arms stated: Woodcarver Ríkarður Jónsson designed the coat of arms in a competition with leading Icelandic artists such as Johannes Kjarval. The shield is supported by the four guardian spirits of Iceland, described by Snorri Sturluson in his “Earthly Circle” (Il. Heimskringla) in the “saga of Olaf son of Tryggvi”:

Coat of arms of the Icelandic Republic

Write a review on the article "Coat of Arms of Iceland"

Notes

Links

• (Icelandic) (English)

See also

Policy Symbols Economy Geography Culture Connection

Dependent territories Unrecognized and partially recognized states

Excerpt characterizing the Coat of Arms of Iceland

- Why? – asked eldest daughter Melyukovs.
- Don’t go, you need courage...
“I’ll go,” said Sonya.
- Tell me, how was it with the young lady? - said the second Melyukova.
“Yes, just like that, one young lady went,” said the old girl, “she took a rooster, two utensils, and sat down properly.” She sat there, just heard, suddenly she was driving... with bells, with bells, a sleigh drove up; hears, comes. He comes in completely in human form, like an officer, he came and sat down with her at the device.
- A! Ah!...” Natasha screamed, rolling her eyes in horror.
- How can he say that?
- Yes, as a person, everything is as it should be, and he began and began to persuade, and she should have occupied him with conversation until the roosters; and she became shy; – she just became shy and covered herself with her hands. He picked it up. It's good that the girls came running...
- Well, why scare them! - said Pelageya Danilovna.
“Mother, you yourself were guessing...” said the daughter.
- How do they tell fortunes in the barn? – asked Sonya.
- Well, at least now, they’ll go to the barn and listen. What will you hear: hammering, knocking - bad, but pouring bread - this is good; and then it happens...
- Mom, tell me what happened to you in the barn?
Pelageya Danilovna smiled.
“Oh, well, I forgot…” she said. - You won’t go, will you?
- No, I'll go; Pepageya Danilovna, let me in, I’ll go,” said Sonya.
- Well, if you're not afraid.
- Luiza Ivanovna, may I? – asked Sonya.
Whether they were playing ring, string or ruble, or talking, as now, Nikolai did not leave Sonya and looked at her with completely new eyes. It seemed to him that today, only for the first time, thanks to that corky mustache, he fully recognized her. Sonya really was cheerful, lively and beautiful that evening, like Nikolai had never seen her before.
“So that’s what she is, and I’m a fool!” he thought, looking at her sparkling eyes and her happy, enthusiastic smile, making dimples on her cheeks from under her mustache, a smile that he had never seen before.
“I’m not afraid of anything,” said Sonya. - Can I do it now? - She stood up. They told Sonya where the barn was, how she could stand silently and listen, and they gave her a fur coat. She threw it over her head and looked at Nikolai.
“What a beauty this girl is!” he thought. “And what have I been thinking about so far!”
Sonya went out into the corridor to go to the barn. Nikolai hurriedly went to the front porch, saying that he was hot. Indeed, the house was stuffy from the crowded people.
It was the same motionless cold outside, the same month, only it was even lighter. The light was so strong and there were so many stars on the snow that I didn’t want to look at the sky, and the real stars were invisible. In the sky it was black and boring, on earth it was fun.
“I’m a fool, a fool! What have you been waiting for so far? thought Nikolai and, running onto the porch, he walked around the corner of the house along the path that led to the back porch. He knew that Sonya would come here. Halfway along the road there were stacked fathoms of firewood, there was snow on them, and a shadow fell from them; through them and from their sides, intertwining, the shadows of old bare linden trees fell onto the snow and the path. The path led to the barn. A chopped barn wall and a roof covered with snow, as if carved from some kind of gemstone, sparkled in the monthly light. A tree cracked in the garden, and again everything was completely silent. The chest seemed to breathe not air, but some kind of eternally youthful strength and joy.
Feet clattered on the steps from the maiden porch, there was a loud creaking sound on the last one, which was covered with snow, and the voice of an old girl said:
- Straight, straight, along the path, young lady. Just don't look back.
“I’m not afraid,” answered Sonya’s voice, and Sonya’s legs squealed and whistled in her thin shoes along the path towards Nikolai.
Sonya walked wrapped in a fur coat. She was already two steps away when she saw him; She also saw him not as she knew him and as she had always been a little afraid. He was in a woman's dress with tangled hair and a happy and new smile for Sonya. Sonya quickly ran up to him.
“Completely different, and still the same,” thought Nikolai, looking at her face, all illuminated by moonlight. He put his hands under the fur coat that covered her head, hugged her, pressed her to him and kissed her on the lips, above which there was a mustache and from which there was a smell of burnt cork. Sonya kissed him in the very center of his lips and, extending her small hands, took his cheeks on both sides.
“Sonya!... Nicolas!...” they just said. They ran to the barn and returned each from their own porch.

When everyone drove back from Pelageya Danilovna, Natasha, who always saw and noticed everything, arranged the accommodation in such a way that Luiza Ivanovna and she sat in the sleigh with Dimmler, and Sonya sat with Nikolai and the girls.
Nikolai, no longer overtaking, drove smoothly in way back, and still peering at Sonya in this strange moonlight, in this ever-changing light, he looked for, from under his eyebrows and mustache, that former and present Sonya, from whom he had decided never to be separated. He peered, and when he recognized the same and the other and remembered, hearing that smell of cork, mixed with the feeling of a kiss, he deeply inhaled the frosty air and, looking at the receding earth and the brilliant sky, he felt himself again in a magical kingdom.
- Sonya, are you okay? – he asked occasionally.
“Yes,” answered Sonya. - What about you?
In the middle of the road, Nikolai let the coachman hold the horses, ran up to Natasha’s sleigh for a moment and stood on the lead.
“Natasha,” he told her in a whisper in French, “you know, I’ve made up my mind about Sonya.”
-Did you tell her? – Natasha asked, suddenly beaming with joy.
- Oh, how strange you are with those mustaches and eyebrows, Natasha! Are you happy?
– I’m so glad, so glad! I was already angry with you. I didn't tell you, but you treated her badly. This is such a heart, Nicolas. I'm so glad! “I can be nasty, but I was ashamed to be the only happy one without Sonya,” Natasha continued. “Now I’m so glad, well, run to her.”
- No, wait, oh, how funny you are! - said Nikolai, still peering at her, and in his sister, too, finding something new, extraordinary and charmingly tender, which he had never seen in her before. - Natasha, something magical. A?
“Yes,” she answered, “you did great.”
“If I had seen her before as she is now,” thought Nikolai, “I would have asked long ago what to do and would have done whatever she ordered, and everything would have been fine.”
“So you’re happy, and I did good?”
- Oh, so good! I recently quarreled with my mother over this. Mom said she's catching you. How can you say this? I almost got into a fight with my mom. And I will never allow anyone to say or think anything bad about her, because there is only one good thing in her.
- Is that good? - said Nikolai, once again looking for the expression on his sister’s face to find out if it was true, and, squeaking with his boots, he jumped off the slope and ran to his sleigh. The same happy, smiling Circassian, with a mustache and sparkling eyes, looking out from under a sable hood, was sitting there, and this Circassian was Sonya, and this Sonya was probably his future, happy and loving wife.
Arriving home and telling their mother about how they spent time with the Melyukovs, the young ladies went home. Having undressed, but without erasing their cork mustaches, they sat for a long time, talking about their happiness. They talked about how they would live married, how their husbands would be friends and how happy they would be.
On Natasha’s table there were mirrors that Dunyasha had prepared since the evening. - Just when will all this happen? I'm afraid I never... That would be too good! – Natasha said getting up and going to the mirrors.
“Sit down, Natasha, maybe you’ll see him,” said Sonya. Natasha lit the candles and sat down. “I see someone with a mustache,” said Natasha, who saw her face.
“Don’t laugh, young lady,” Dunyasha said.
With the help of Sonya and the maid, Natasha found the position of the mirror; her face took on a serious expression and she fell silent. She sat for a long time, looking at the row of receding candles in the mirrors, assuming (based on the stories she had heard) that she would see the coffin, that she would see him, Prince Andrei, in this last, merging, vague square. But no matter how ready she was to mistake the slightest spot for the image of a person or a coffin, she saw nothing. She began to blink frequently and moved away from the mirror.
- Why do others see, but I don’t see anything? - she said. - Well, sit down, Sonya; “Nowadays you definitely need it,” she said. – Only for me... I’m so scared today!
Sonya sat down at the mirror, adjusted her position, and began to look.
“They’ll definitely see Sofya Alexandrovna,” Dunyasha said in a whisper; - and you keep laughing.
Sonya heard these words, and heard Natasha say in a whisper:
“And I know that she will see; she saw last year too.
For about three minutes everyone was silent. “Certainly!” Natasha whispered and didn’t finish... Suddenly Sonya moved away the mirror she was holding and covered her eyes with her hand.
- Oh, Natasha! - she said.
– Did you see it? Did you see it? What did you see? – Natasha screamed, holding up the mirror.
Sonya didn’t see anything, she just wanted to blink her eyes and get up when she heard Natasha’s voice saying “definitely”... She didn’t want to deceive either Dunyasha or Natasha, and it was hard to sit. She herself did not know how or why a cry escaped her when she covered her eyes with her hand.
– Did you see him? – Natasha asked, grabbing her hand.
- Yes. Wait... I... saw him,” Sonya said involuntarily, not yet knowing who Natasha meant by the word “him”: him - Nikolai or him - Andrey.
“But why shouldn’t I say what I saw? After all, others see! And who can convict me of what I saw or did not see? flashed through Sonya's head.
“Yes, I saw him,” she said.
- How? How? Is it standing or lying down?
- No, I saw... Then there was nothing, suddenly I see that he is lying.
– Andrey is lying down? Is he sick? – Natasha asked, looking at her friend with fearful, stopped eyes.
- No, on the contrary, - on the contrary, a cheerful face, and he turned to me - and at that moment as she spoke, it seemed to her that she saw what she was saying.
- Well, then, Sonya?...
– I didn’t notice something blue and red here...
- Sonya! when will he return? When I see him! My God, how I’m afraid for him and for myself, and for everything I’m afraid...” Natasha spoke, and without answering a word to Sonya’s consolations, she went to bed and long after the candle had been put out, with her eyes open, she lay motionless on the bed and looked at the frosty moonlight through the frozen windows.

Soon after Christmas, Nikolai announced to his mother his love for Sonya and his firm decision to marry her. The Countess, who had long noticed what was happening between Sonya and Nikolai and was expecting this explanation, silently listened to his words and told her son that he could marry whomever he wanted; but that neither she nor his father would give him his blessing for such a marriage. For the first time, Nikolai felt that his mother was unhappy with him, that despite all her love for him, she would not give in to him. She, coldly and without looking at her son, sent for her husband; and when he arrived, the countess wanted to briefly and coldly tell him what was the matter in the presence of Nicholas, but she could not resist: she cried tears of frustration and left the room. The old count began to hesitantly admonish Nicholas and ask him to abandon his intention. Nikolai replied that he could not change his word, and the father, sighing and obviously embarrassed, very soon interrupted his speech and went to the countess. In all his clashes with his son, the count was never left with the consciousness of his guilt towards him for the breakdown of affairs, and therefore he could not be angry with his son for refusing to marry a rich bride and for choosing the dowryless Sonya - only in this case did he more vividly remember what, if things were not upset, it would be impossible to wish for a better wife for Nikolai than Sonya; and that only he and his Mitenka and his irresistible habits are to blame for the disorder of affairs.
The father and mother no longer spoke about this matter with their son; but a few days after this, the countess called Sonya to her and with cruelty that neither one nor the other expected, the countess reproached her niece for luring her son and for ingratitude. Sonya, silently with downcast eyes, listened to the countess’s cruel words and did not understand what was required of her. She was ready to sacrifice everything for her benefactors. The thought of self-sacrifice was her favorite thought; but in this case she could not understand to whom and what she needed to sacrifice. She could not help but love the Countess and the entire Rostov family, but she also could not help but love Nikolai and not know that his happiness depended on this love. She was silent and sad and did not answer. Nikolai, as it seemed to him, could not bear this situation any longer and went to explain himself to his mother. Nikolai either begged his mother to forgive him and Sonya and agree to their marriage, or threatened his mother that if Sonya was persecuted, he would immediately marry her secretly.
The countess, with a coldness that her son had never seen, answered him that he was of age, that Prince Andrei was marrying without his father’s consent, and that he could do the same, but that she would never recognize this intriguer as her daughter.
Exploded by the word intriguer, Nikolai, raising his voice, told his mother that he never thought that she would force him to sell his feelings, and that if this was so, then this would be the last time he spoke... But he did not have time to say that decisive word, which, judging by the expression on his face, his mother was waiting with horror and which, perhaps, would forever remain a cruel memory between them. He did not have time to finish, because Natasha, with a pale and serious face, entered the room from the door where she had been eavesdropping.
- Nikolinka, you are talking nonsense, shut up, shut up! I’m telling you, shut up!.. – she almost shouted to drown out his voice.
“Mom, my dear, this is not at all because... my poor darling,” she turned to the mother, who, feeling on the edge of breaking, looked at her son with horror, but, due to stubbornness and enthusiasm for the struggle, did not want and could not give up.
“Nikolinka, I’ll explain it to you, you go away - listen, mother dear,” she said to her mother.
Her words were meaningless; but they achieved the result she was striving for.
The Countess, sobbing heavily, hid her face in her daughter's chest, and Nikolai stood up, grabbed his head and left the room.
Natasha took up the matter of reconciliation and brought it to the point that Nikolai received a promise from his mother that Sonya would not be oppressed, and he himself made a promise that he would not do anything secretly from his parents.
With the firm intention, having settled his affairs in the regiment, to retire, come and marry Sonya, Nikolai, sad and serious, at odds with his family, but, as it seemed to him, passionately in love, left for the regiment in early January.
After Nikolai's departure, the Rostovs' house became sadder than ever. The Countess became ill from mental disorder.
Sonya was sad both from the separation from Nikolai and even more from the hostile tone with which the countess could not help but treat her. The Count was more than ever concerned about the bad state of affairs, which required some drastic measures. It was necessary to sell a Moscow house and a house near Moscow, and to sell the house it was necessary to go to Moscow. But the countess’s health forced her to postpone her departure from day to day.
Natasha, who had easily and even cheerfully endured the first time of separation from her fiancé, now became more excited and impatient every day. The thought that it is so, in vain, lost for no one best time, which she would have used to love him, tormented her relentlessly. Most of his letters angered her. It was insulting to her to think that while she lived only in the thought of him, he lived a real life, saw new places, new people that were interesting to him. The more entertaining his letters were, the more annoying she was. Her letters to him not only did not bring her any comfort, but seemed like a boring and false duty. She did not know how to write because she could not comprehend the possibility of truthfully expressing in writing even one thousandth part of what she was used to expressing with her voice, smile and gaze. She wrote him classically monotonous, dry letters, to which she herself did not attribute any meaning and in which, according to Brouillons, the countess corrected her spelling errors.
The Countess's health was not improving; but it was no longer possible to postpone the trip to Moscow. It was necessary to make a dowry, it was necessary to sell the house, and, moreover, Prince Andrei was expected first in Moscow, where Prince Nikolai Andreich lived that winter, and Natasha was sure that he had already arrived.
The Countess remained in the village, and the Count, taking Sonya and Natasha with him, went to Moscow at the end of January.

Pierre, after the matchmaking of Prince Andrei and Natasha, without any obvious reason, suddenly felt the impossibility of continuing his previous life. No matter how firmly he was convinced of the truths revealed to him by his benefactor, no matter how joyful he was during that first period of fascination with the internal work of self-improvement, which he devoted himself to with such fervor, after the engagement of Prince Andrei to Natasha and after the death of Joseph Alekseevich, about which he received news almost at the same time - all the charm of this former life suddenly disappeared for him. Only one skeleton of life remained: his home with his brilliant wife, who now enjoyed the favors of one important person, acquaintance with all of St. Petersburg and service with boring formalities. And this former life suddenly presented itself to Pierre with unexpected abomination. He stopped writing his diary, avoided the company of his brothers, began to go to the club again, began to drink a lot again, again became close to single companies and began to lead such a life that Countess Elena Vasilievna considered it necessary to give him a stern reprimand. Pierre, feeling that she was right, and in order not to compromise his wife, left for Moscow.
In Moscow, as soon as he entered his huge house with withered and withering princesses, with huge courtyards, as soon as he saw - driving through the city - this Iverskaya Chapel with countless candle lights in front of golden vestments, this Kremlin Square with untrodden snow, these cab drivers and the shacks of Sivtsev Vrazhka, saw old Moscow people who wanted nothing and were slowly living out their lives, saw old women, Moscow ladies, Moscow balls and the Moscow English Club - he felt at home, in a quiet refuge. In Moscow he felt calm, warm, familiar and dirty, like wearing an old robe.
Moscow society, everyone, from old women to children, accepted Pierre as their long-awaited guest, whose place was always ready and not occupied. For Moscow society, Pierre was the sweetest, kindest, smartest, cheerful, generous eccentric, absent-minded and sincere, Russian, old-fashioned gentleman. His wallet was always empty, because it was open to everyone.
Benefit performances, bad paintings, statues, charitable societies, gypsies, schools, subscription dinners, revelries, Freemasons, churches, books - no one and nothing was refused, and if not for his two friends, who borrowed a lot of money from him and took him under their custody, he would give everything away. There was no lunch or evening at the club without him. As soon as he slumped back in his place on the sofa after two bottles of Margot, he was surrounded, and talk, arguments, and jokes ensued. Wherever they quarreled, he made peace with one of his kind smiles and, by the way, a joke. Masonic lodges were boring and lethargic without him.