The Red Badge of Courage(红色英勇勋章)

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The Red Badge of Courage
1
The Red Badge of
Courage
An Episode of the American Civil War
Stephen Crane
The Red Badge of Courage
2
CHAPTER I.
THE cold passed reluctantly from the earth, and the retiring fogs
revealed an army stretched out on the hills, resting. As the landscape
changed from brown to green, the army awak- ened, and began to tremble
with eagerness at the noise of rumors. It cast its eyes upon the roads,
which were growing from long troughs of liquid mud to proper
thoroughfares. A river, amber- tinted in the shadow of its banks, purled
at the army's feet; and at night, when the stream had become of a
sorrowful blackness, one could see across it the red, eyelike gleam of
hostile camp- fires set in the low brows of distant hills.
Once a certain tall soldier developed virtues and went resolutely to
wash a shirt. He came flying back from a brook waving his garment
bannerlike. He was swelled with a tale he had heard from a reliable
friend, who had heard it from a truthful cavalryman, who had heard it
from his trustworthy brother, one of the order- lies at division headquarters.
He adopted the important air of a herald in red and gold. "We're goin' t'
move t' morrah--sure," he said pompously to a group in the company street.
"We're goin' 'way up the river, cut across, an' come around in behint 'em."
To his attentive audience he drew a loud and elaborate plan of a very
brilliant campaign. When he had finished, the blue-clothed men scattered
into small arguing groups between the rows of squat brown huts. A
negro teamster who had been dancing upon a cracker box with the
hilarious encouragement of twoscore soldiers was deserted. He sat
mournfully down. Smoke drifted lazily from a multitude of quaint chim-
neys.
"It's a lie! that's all it is--a thunderin' lie!" said another private loudly.
His smooth face was flushed, and his hands were thrust sulkily into his
trousers' pockets. He took the matter as an affront to him. "I don't
believe the derned old army's ever going to move. We're set. I've got
ready to move eight times in the last two weeks, and we ain't moved yet."
The tall soldier felt called upon to defend the truth of a rumor he
himself had intro- duced. He and the loud one came near to fight- ing
over it.
The Red Badge of Courage
3
A corporal began to swear before the assem- blage. He had just put a
costly board floor in his house, he said. During the early spring he had
refrained from adding extensively to the comfort of his environment
because he had felt that the army might start on the march at any moment.
Of late, however, he had been im- pressed that they were in a sort of
eternal camp.
Many of the men engaged in a spirited debate. One outlined in a
peculiarly lucid manner all the plans of the commanding general. He
was op- posed by men who advocated that there were other plans of
campaign. They clamored at each other, numbers making futile bids for
the pop- ular attention. Meanwhile, the soldier who had fetched the
rumor bustled about with much importance. He was continually assailed
by questions.
"What's up, Jim?"
"Th' army's goin' t' move."
"Ah, what yeh talkin' about? How yeh know it is?"
"Well, yeh kin b'lieve me er not, jest as yeh like. I don't care a hang."
There was much food for thought in the man- ner in which he replied.
He came near to con- vincing them by disdaining to produce proofs. They
grew excited over it.
There was a youthful private who listened with eager ears to the words
of the tall soldier and to the varied comments of his comrades. After
receiving a fill of discussions concerning marches and attacks, he went to
his hut and crawled through an intricate hole that served it as a door. He
wished to be alone with some new thoughts that had lately come to him.
He lay down on a wide bank that stretched across the end of the room.
In the other end, cracker boxes were made to serve as furniture. They were
grouped about the fireplace. A pic- ture from an illustrated weekly was
upon the log walls, and three rifles were paralleled on pegs. Equipments
hunt on handy projections, and some tin dishes lay upon a small pile of
firewood. A folded tent was serving as a roof. The sunlight, without,
beating upon it, made it glow a light yellow shade. A small window shot
an oblique square of whiter light upon the cluttered floor. The smoke from
the fire at times neglected the clay chimney and wreathed into the room,
The Red Badge of Courage
4
and this flimsy chimney of clay and sticks made end- less threats to set
ablaze the whole establishment.
The youth was in a little trance of astonish- ment. So they were at
last going to fight. On the morrow, perhaps, there would be a battle, and
he would be in it. For a time he was obliged to labor to make himself
believe. He could not accept with assurance an omen that he was about
to mingle in one of those great affairs of the earth.
He had, of course, dreamed of battles all his life--of vague and bloody
conflicts that had thrilled him with their sweep and fire. In visions he
had seen himself in many struggles. He had imagined peoples secure in
the shadow of his eagle-eyed prowess. But awake he had regarded
battles as crimson blotches on the pages of the past. He had put them as
things of the bygone with his thought-images of heavy crowns and high
castles. There was a portion of the world's history which he had regarded
as the time of wars, but it, he thought, had been long gone over the horizon
and had disappeared forever.
From his home his youthful eyes had looked upon the war in his own
country with distrust. It must be some sort of a play affair. He had long
despaired of witnessing a Greeklike struggle. Such would be no more, he
had said. Men were better, or more timid. Secular and religious
education had effaced the throat-grappling in- stinct, or else firm finance
held in check the pas- sions.
He had burned several times to enlist. Tales of great movements
shook the land. They might not be distinctly Homeric, but there seemed
to be much glory in them. He had read of marches, sieges, conflicts, and
he had longed to see it all. His busy mind had drawn for him large pictures
extravagant in color, lurid with breathless deeds.
But his mother had discouraged him. She had affected to look with
some contempt upon the quality of his war ardor and patriotism. She
could calmly seat herself and with no apparent difficulty give him many
hundreds of reasons why he was of vastly more importance on the farm
than on the field of battle. She had had certain ways of expression that
told him that her statements on the subject came from a deep con- viction.
Moreover, on her side, was his belief that her ethical motive in the
The Red Badge of Courage
5
argument was impregnable.
At last, however, he had made firm rebellion against this yellow light
thrown upon the color of his ambitions. The newspapers, the gossip of
the village, his own picturings had aroused him to an uncheckable degree.
They were in truth fighting finely down there. Almost every day the
newspapers printed accounts of a decisive victory.
One night, as he lay in bed, the winds had carried to him the
clangoring of the church bell as some enthusiast jerked the rope frantically
to tell the twisted news of a great battle. This voice of the people
rejoicing in the night had made him shiver in a prolonged ecstasy of ex-
citement. Later, he had gone down to his mother's room and had spoken
thus: "Ma, I'm going to enlist."
"Henry, don't you be a fool," his mother had replied. She had then
covered her face with the quilt. There was an end to the matter for that
night.
Nevertheless, the next morning he had gone to a town that was near
his mother's farm and had enlisted in a company that was forming there.
When he had returned home his mother was milking the brindle cow.
Four others stood waiting. "Ma, I've enlisted," he had said to her
diffidently. There was a short silence. "The Lord's will be done,
Henry," she had finally replied, and had then continued to milk the brindle
cow.
When he had stood in the doorway with his soldier's clothes on his
back, and with the light of excitement and expectancy in his eyes almost
defeating the glow of regret for the home bonds, he had seen two tears
leaving their trails on his mother's scarred cheeks.
Still, she had disappointed him by saying nothing whatever about
returning with his shield or on it. He had privately primed himself for a
beautiful scene. He had prepared certain sen- tences which he thought
could be used with touching effect. But her words destroyed his plans.
She had doggedly peeled potatoes and addressed him as follows: "You
watch out, Henry, an' take good care of yerself in this here fighting
business--you watch out, an' take good care of yerself. Don't go a-
thinkin' you can lick the hull rebel army at the start, because yeh can't.
The Red Badge of Courage
6
Yer jest one little feller amongst a hull lot of others, and yeh've got to keep
quiet an' do what they tell yeh. I know how you are, Henry.
"I've knet yeh eight pair of socks, Henry, and I've put in all yer best
shirts, because I want my boy to be jest as warm and comf'able as anybody
in the army. Whenever they get holes in 'em, I want yeh to send 'em
right-away back to me, so's I kin dern 'em.
"An' allus be careful an' choose yer comp'ny. There's lots of bad men
in the army, Henry. The army makes 'em wild, and they like nothing better
than the job of leading off a young feller like you, as ain't never been away
from home much and has allus had a mother, an' a-learning 'em to drink
and swear. Keep clear of them folks, Henry. I don't want yeh to ever do
any- thing, Henry, that yeh would be 'shamed to let me know about. Jest
think as if I was a-watchin' yeh. If yeh keep that in yer mind allus, I
guess yeh'll come out about right.
"Yeh must allus remember yer father, too, child, an' remember he
never drunk a drop of licker in his life, and seldom swore a cross oath.
"I don't know what else to tell yeh, Henry, excepting that yeh must
never do no shirking, child, on my account. If so be a time comes when
yeh have to be kilt or do a mean thing, why, Henry, don't think of anything
'cept what's right, because there's many a woman has to bear up 'ginst sech
things these times, and the Lord 'll take keer of us all.
"Don't forgit about the socks and the shirts, child; and I've put a cup of
blackberry jam with yer bundle, because I know yeh like it above all
things. Good-by, Henry. Watch out, and be a good boy."
He had, of course, been impatient under the ordeal of this speech. It
had not been quite what he expected, and he had borne it with an air of
irritation. He departed feeling vague relief.
Still, when he had looked back from the gate, he had seen his mother
kneeling among the po- tato parings. Her brown face, upraised, was
stained with tears, and her spare form was quiver- ing.
10 RED BADGE OF COURAGE.
He bowed his head and went on, feeling suddenly ashamed of his
purposes.
From his home he had gone to the seminary to bid adieu to many
The Red Badge of Courage
7
schoolmates. They had thronged about him with wonder and admiration.
He had felt the gulf now between them and had swelled with calm pride.
He and some of his fellows who had donned blue were quite over-
whelmed with privileges for all of one afternoon, and it had been a very
delicious thing. They had strutted.
A certain light-haired girl had made vivacious fun at his martial spirit,
but there was another and darker girl whom he had gazed at steadfastly,
and he thought she grew demure and sad at sight of his blue and brass.
As he had walked down the path between the rows of oaks, he had turned
his head and detected her at a window watching his departure. As he
perceived her, she had im- mediately begun to stare up through the high
tree branches at the sky. He had seen a good deal of flurry and haste in
her movement as she changed her attitude. He often thought of it.
On the way to Washington his spirit had soared. The regiment was
fed and caressed at station after station until the youth had believed that he
must be a hero. There was a lavish ex- penditure of bread and cold meats,
coffee, and pickles and cheese. As he basked in the smiles of the girls
and was patted and complimented by the old men, he had felt growing
within him the strength to do mighty deeds of arms.
After complicated journeyings with many pauses, there had come
months of monotonous life in a camp. He had had the belief that real war
was a series of death struggles with small time in between for sleep and
meals; but since his regiment had come to the field the army had done
little but sit still and try to keep warm.
He was brought then gradually back to his old ideas. Greeklike
struggles would be no more. Men were better, or more timid. Secular
and religious education had effaced the throat-grap- pling instinct, or else
firm finance held in check the passions.
He had grown to regard himself merely as a part of a vast blue
demonstration. His province was to look out, as far as he could, for his
per- sonal comfort. For recreation he could twiddle his thumbs and
speculate on the thoughts which must agitate the minds of the generals.
Also, he was drilled and drilled and reviewed, and drilled and drilled and
reviewed.
The Red Badge of Courage
8
The only foes he had seen were some pickets along the river bank.
They were a sun-tanned, philosophical lot, who sometimes shot
reflectively at the blue pickets. When reproached for this afterward, they
usually expressed sorrow, and swore by their gods that the guns had
exploded without their permission. The youth, on guard duty one night,
conversed across the stream with one of them. He was a slightly ragged
man, who spat skillfully between his shoes and possessed a great fund of
bland and infantile assurance. The youth liked him personally.
"Yank," the other had informed him, "yer a right dum good feller."
This sentiment, floating to him upon the still air, had made him tempo-
rarily regret war.
Various veterans had told him tales. Some talked of gray,
bewhiskered hordes who were advancing with relentless curses and
chewing tobacco with unspeakable valor; tremendous bodies of fierce
soldiery who were sweeping along like the Huns. Others spoke of
tattered and eternally hungry men who fired despondent powders.
"They'll charge through hell's fire an' brimstone t' git a holt on a haversack,
an' sech stomachs ain't a-lastin' long," he was told. From the stories, the
youth imagined the red, live bones sticking out through slits in the faded
uniforms.
Still, he could not put a whole faith in veter- ans' tales, for recruits
were their prey. They talked much of smoke, fire, and blood, but he
could not tell how much might be lies. They persistently yelled "Fresh
fish!" at him, and were in no wise to be trusted.
However, he perceived now that it did not greatly matter what kind of
soldiers he was going to fight, so long as they fought, which fact no one
disputed. There was a more serious problem. He lay in his bunk
pondering upon it. He tried to mathematically prove to himself that he
would not run from a battle.
Previously he had never felt obliged to wrestle too seriously with this
question. In his life he had taken certain things for granted, never
challeng- ing his belief in ultimate success, and bothering little about
means and roads. But here he was confronted with a thing of moment.
It had sud- denly appeared to him that perhaps in a battle he might run.
The Red Badge of Courage
9
He was forced to admit that as far as war was concerned he knew nothing
of himself.
A sufficient time before he would have allowed the problem to kick its
heels at the outer portals of his mind, but now he felt compelled to give
serious attention to it.
A little panic-fear grew in his mind. As his imagination went forward
to a fight, he saw hide- ous possibilities. He contemplated the lurking
menaces of the future, and failed in an effort to see himself standing
stoutly in the midst of them. He recalled his visions of broken-bladed
glory, but in the shadow of the impending tumult he suspected them to be
impossible pictures.
He sprang from the bunk and began to pace nervously to and fro.
"Good Lord, what's th' matter with me?" he said aloud.
He felt that in this crisis his laws of life were useless. Whatever he
had learned of himself was here of no avail. He was an unknown
quantity. He saw that he would again be obliged to experi- ment as he had
in early youth. He must accumu- late information of himself, and
meanwhile he re- solved to remain close upon his guard lest those qualities
of which he knew nothing should ever- lastingly disgrace him. "Good
Lord!" he re- peated in dismay.
After a time the tall soldier slid dexterously through the hole. The
loud private followed. They were wrangling.
"That's all right," said the tall soldier as he entered. He waved his
hand expressively. "You can believe me or not, jest as you like. All you
got to do is to sit down and wait as quiet as you can. Then pretty soon
you'll find out I was right."
His comrade grunted stubbornly. For a mo- ment he seemed to be
searching for a formidable reply. Finally he said: "Well, you don't know
everything in the world, do you?"
"Didn't say I knew everything in the world," retorted the other sharply.
He began to stow various articles snugly into his knapsack.
The youth, pausing in his nervous walk, looked down at the busy
figure. "Going to be a battle, sure, is there, Jim?" he asked.
"Of course there is," replied the tall soldier. "Of course there is. You
The Red Badge of Courage
10
jest wait 'til to-morrow, and you'll see one of the biggest battles ever was.
You jest wait."
"Thunder!der!" said the youth.
"Oh, you'll see fighting this time, my boy, what'll be regular out-and-
out fighting," added the tall soldier, with the air of a man who is about to
exhibit a battle for the benefit of his friends.
"Huh!" said the loud one from a corner.
"Well," remarked the youth, "like as not this story'll turn out jest like
them others did."
"Not much it won't," replied the tall soldier, exasperated. "Not much
it won't. Didn't the cavalry all start this morning?" He glared about him.
No one denied his statement. "The cav- alry started this morning," he
continued. "They say there ain't hardly any cavalry left in camp. They're
going to Richmond, or some place, while we fight all the Johnnies. It's
some dodge like that. The regiment's got orders, too. A feller what seen
'em go to headquarters told me a little while ago. And they're raising
blazes all over camp--anybody can see that."
"Shucks!" said the loud one.
The youth remained silent for a time. At last he spoke to the tall
soldier. "Jim!"
"What?"
"How do you think the reg'ment 'll do?"
"Oh, they'll fight all right, I guess, after they once get into it," said the
other with cold judg- ment. He made a fine use of the third person.
"There's been heaps of fun poked at 'em because they're new, of course,
and all that; but they'll fight all right, I guess."
"Think any of the boys 'll run?" persisted the youth.
"Oh, there may be a few of 'em run, but there's them kind in every
regiment, 'specially when they first goes under fire," said the other in a
tolerant way. "Of course it might happen that the hull kit-and-boodle
might start and run, if some big fighting came first-off, and then again
they might stay and fight like fun. But you can't bet on nothing. Of
course they ain't never been under fire yet, and it ain't likely they'll lick the
hull rebel army all-to-oncet the first time; but I think they'll fight better
摘要：

TheRedBadgeofCourage1TheRedBadgeofCourageAnEpisodeoftheAmericanCivilWarStephenCraneTheRedBadgeofCourage2CHAPTERI.THEcoldpassedreluctantlyfromtheearth,andtheretiringfogsrevealedanarmystretchedoutonthehills,resting.Asthelandscapechangedfrombrowntogreen,thearmyawak-ened,andbegantotremblewitheagernessat...

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