Book Review: The Napoleon Options - Ed. Jonathan North

The Napoleon Options is a terrifically enjoyable collection of pseudo-historical 'what-ifs'.

Written by a who's who of Napoleonic history boffins - several well known as wargamers, and almost all of whom will be names very familiar to any true Napoleonic buff - in much the same style as they would write about actual historical events, I found these 'what if?' scenarios, all very plausibly constructed, made for fascinating and highly entertaining reading. [1]

The authors and scenarios are as follows:

1) Paddy Griffith - A successful French invasion of Ireland by Hoche, 1796-7.

2) Charles Grant - Napoleon conquers Egypt & Syria, 1798-9.

3) Philip Haythornthwaite - Junot is victorious at Vimeiro, 1808

4) John Gill - The Austrians attack early, but are still defeated by a decisive Napoleon, 1809

5) Digby Smith - An alternative but equally bloody stalemate at Borodino, 1812, but with a very different outcome.

6) Jonathan North (Ed.) - The Grand Armée kicks Chichagov's butt at Minsk & Borisov, 1812.

7) John Gallagher - France wins the 1813 campaign, leading to a 2nd treaty of Tilsit!

8) Peter Hofschröer - Napoleon takes Brussels after Constant Rebeque follows Wellington's order to move on Nivelles, abandoning Quatre Bras, 1815.

9) Andrew Uffindell - A longer more complex and bloody two-day Waterloo, with a similar -yet radically different - outcome, 1815.

10) John Elting - Napoleon, regrouping at Quatre Bras, goes on to win the 1815 campaign.

Some of these alternate histories totally reverse events, as when Junot wins at Vimeiro, or Napoleon beats Wellington and Blücher in 1815. Others simply reach the same outcome via different routes, as when Napoleon defeats the Austrians in 1809, or is defeated after a two-day Waterloo. 

Lejeune's beautiful painting The Battle of Moscow, 7 Sept 1812 (1822). Known to us as Borodino, of course.

The Russian 1812 period has, for some time now, been my primary area of Napoleonic interest, so I found Digby Smith's alternate Borodino fascinating. Starting, as do all the accounts, from things as they really were, Smith begins changing things by allowing the Russians more forces and greater success in their northern flank attack, in which Platov's Cossacks harassed the French baggage train.

Whilst Smith has Napoleon stave off the worst of disaster that might've resulted in the areas of the field under his stepson Eugene, nevertheless the ultimate stalemate is worse for the French than it was on the actual day.

His account further diverges from real events in that, with heavier French losses, Napoleon chooses to overwinter in Smolensk. And from that point onwards Smith's alternate history takes a very radically different course.

One very intriguing point worthy of note, an aside by Smith described as a 'discordant footnote' to his imaginary history, is his reference to 'The slightly-unbalanced Bonapartist, Pierre d'Offshruere'. 

Pierre is the French form of Peter. Smith appears to be having a dig at 'revisionist' historian (as some call him) Peter Hofschröer. Hofschröer is, as it happens, a fellow contributor to this volume, and no stranger to intrigue. The world of Napoleonic literature is, like its subject, a scene of conflict! 

Editor Jonathan North contributes a second Russia 1812 piece, telling how Napoleon might've fared had he preserved the base and magazines at Minsk, and soundly thrashed Chichagov's army. This is another of those alternate realities that has very profoundly different outcomes for Europe and the world at large as a result. Very intriguing and entertaining indeed!

John Gallagher, the only contributor whose name I wasn't already acquainted with, offers us an 1813 campaign that, instead of ending with Allied victory at Leipzig, instead finds Napoleonic France re-ascendent, culminating in a second treaty at Tilsit. This was fascinating for me, as the 1813-14 campaigns are one of the areas of this era I'm least familiar with. Discerning fact from fiction was, for me, much harder!

William Sadler's depiction of Waterloo.

The book ends with three Waterloo related scenarios. Yes, three! Given the epoch-making and epoch-breaking significance of this particular battle that's not altogether surprising, perhaps.

Those who know the other Waterloo related works of Pierre d'Offshruere, um... sorry, Peter Hofschröer, might not be surprised by his 'what if' Waterloo finding Wellington worsted. Like all the scenarios in this book, it's both plausible and fun. Sensitive admirers of Wellington be warned, noses may be put out of joint!

Having struggled with (and thus far failed to finish) his Fields Of Glory, I was somewhat surprised that I found Andrew Uffindell's two-day Waterloo both one of the most convincing and most exciting of these accounts. 

On day one Napoleon pushes Wellington back on Waterloo village & the forest of Soignes, momentarily succeeding in his aim of separating the allies. 

But, despite Wellington dying on the second day, the Prussians, under the indefatigable Blücher, seal the gap and attack the spent French in ever-increasing force, also bolstered by elements arriving from Wellington's detached force at Hal, to the west. 

Not content with killing Wellington, Uffindell also has Napoleon slain, whilst sheltering in a square of the Old Guard, as the Armée du Nord is pulverised. With a welcome touch of humour he refers to revisionist controversies that question the 'Blücher myth'.

Hugely plausible, and hugely enjoyable. Well done Mr Uffindell, I doff my imaginary bicorne to your imaginary sanguinary scenario!

The Napoleon Options ends with a chapter by John Elting, the most novel-like, in terms of prose style, of the treatments of these 'captivating scenarios' [2]. 

Elting imagines that Napoleon not only successfully rallies his shattered forces at Quatre Bras, but then turns the tide on Wellington and Blücher, finally succeeding in his original aim of dividing and defeating them in detail. 

One senses a cheeky grin, and perhaps a gleam in Colonel Elting's eye, as his account ends thus: 'Military historians generally agree that Napoleon's post-Waterloo 1815 campaign was possibly the most brilliant of his entire career.' What fun!

I'd thoroughly and unhesitatingly recommend this book to wargamers and any other form of Napoleonic history buffs. 

----------

NOTES:

[1] Jonathan North's forward mentions Louis Geoffroy's pioneering work Histoire de la Monarchie universelle: Napoléon et la conquête du monde (1812–1832), which I first heard about in Zamoyski's excellent 1812. This has been translated and published in English, but is a rare expensive book. French versions can be found free online.

[2] Quoted from the dust jacket blurb.

Book Reviews: Cavalie Mercer's Journal of the Waterloo Campaign (abridged and complete editions)

The memorial to Mercer and G troop RHA, at Waterloo, on the right of the British line, towards Hougoumont.

Cavalie Mercer (source: wikimedia commons)

On our recent trip to Belgium - with Teresa (my stalwart wife!) - I took along several books, one of which was Cavalie Mercer's journal, in an abridged edition. Despite some issues with this book (which I'll address in due course) I loved it, and it made seeing the memorial to him on the battlefield truly moving. We think we spotted 'Paxo' nearby, and he was moving to!

Jeremy Paxman (photo: Christopher Thomond, source)

When we got back, so much had I loved the abridged account, that I had to buy and read the full version. Both are printed by Pen & Sword, and both are lavishly illustrated. But beyond those similarities, and the obvious fact that both draw from the same rich well, they are quite different in one or two important respects.

The Pen & Sword abridged edition (introduction by Bob Carruthers)

The first thing I feel I ought to say is that Cavalié Mercer's memoirs are undoubtedly five-bicorne material: Captain Calvalié Mercer, who commanded G Troop of the Royal Horse Artillery in Wellington's rag-tag but victorious Allied army at Waterloo, wrote a terrific account of his experiences. The only reasons this gets just four of Boney's chapeau, and not the full five are, firstly, this is a very truncated rendering of his writings, and secondly, editorially this has been allowed to go to press littered with typos, of the sort that suggest the use of text recognition scanning software (e.g. frequent instances of 'hi' where it should clearly say 'in').

Having said this, I nonetheless really enjoyed reading this book. Mercer was - aside from the annoying typos that were in no way his fault - the perfect literary companion for our jaunt across to Belgium for the Waterloo 200th. The short extracts used here begin with Mercer leaving England (including some references to some parts of East Anglia and Suffolk we know!), travelling by sea and land to Belgium, taking part in the rearguard actions following Quatre Bras (where he glimpses Napoleon!), fighting at Waterloo, and then wandering the battlefield in a quasi-Romantic reverie.

Mercer is great. He writes superbly, and if his account is to be trusted - and it smacks of authenticity - he was also a brave and conscientious (if, by his own ready admission, not always perfect) soldier. He's both proud of his troops, and simultaneously both sensitive and yet somewhat inured to war. Reading his accounts of Napoleonic warfare really brings home both the excitement and the horror of such conflict. Mercer himself emerges from his own story a thoroughly likeable and impressive young man. As mentioned above, my wife and I stood on the very spot - as denoted by the small monument pictured at the top of this post - which marks the final position Mercer's battery occupied (it moved around a  fair bit, being horse artillery), and where it did it's bloodiest work, between Hougoumont and the Charleroi road. Having only just read of his experiences made this a truly poignant experience.

There's some interesting parenthetical stuff by a Victorian gent (who's name escapes me at this moment), who Carruthers quotes at length in the intro, on the nature of military history, memoirs, and Mercer himself, which is a useful adjunct. There are also lots of pictures, which, being rather randomly strewn throughout, add to the feeling that they and the title - splashed across both sides of every spread - function as padding. Having read titbits from Mercer many times in many books, reading him more fully here was extremely enjoyable, even in spite of the awful typos that litter this book like the dead and wounded litter the field of Waterloo in Mercer's sanguine account.

Good reading for a weekend away: great material, shame about the typos. 

The Pen & Sword complete edition (introduction by Andrew Uffindell)

This is a great edition of an already brilliant story, which adds quite a lot to the memoir itself, including a biographical account of the whole of Mercer's life (placed before rather than after the Journal itself). Having read the abridged version of Mercer's memoir whilst visiting Waterloo, I was keen to read the full story. In reviewing this a second time I may repeat myself a little. Please forgive/indulge me!

Starting in England, the narrative of his journey to Belgium is as exciting and interesting as the battle itself. The sea-crossing and subsequent travels through various Belgic billets are all fascinating, described with an eye for detail that's as artistic as it is military. Once the conflict gets underway, Mercer and his troop arrive on the scene at Quatre Bras just in time to perform a very exciting stint of rearguard duty, during which - as the elements do battle as ferociously as the human and equine actors (oh, and there's even an unfortunate pig!) - he catches a sublime glimpse of Napoleon himself, sitting his horse atop a hill bathed in sunshine, whist Mercer and his guns are in the deep shade of ink black storm clouds.

Throughout this story, but especially at Waterloo itself, Mercer comes across as very brave, if not perhaps as experienced as some of the other RHA Captains (he confesses to numerous mistakes he makes at various points, mostly logistical stuff, and not at Waterloo itself, fortunately), many of whom were Peninsular veterans. He incurs both the praise and censure of Wellington, a subject which he is clearly a trifle touchy about (this theme is enlarged upon in the extra biographical content). Is this one of the reasons he never published his memoirs, perhaps? They were eventually published by his son, with little or no editorial intervention. Andrew Uffindell is clearly proud, and rightly so, of his part in seeing this superb account finally getting the editorial and supporting scholarly research attention it so richly merits.

The complete painting of Wellington at Waterloo, by Hillingford, from which the fuller version of Mercer's journal gets its cover image. (source: wikimedia commons)

The part that deals with the battle of Waterloo itself is terrific: detailed, exciting, colourful, and humane. Mercer gets over the terrible carnage - G Troop certainly did their duty in ensuring that the French 'butchers bill' was awfully high - and confusion of battle, including feelings of guilt at his own losses, and instances of 'friendly fire', extremely vividly. The period after the battle, as Mercer and the Allied and Prussian armies make for Paris, is equally fascinating, revealling much of great interest regarding those 'behind the scenes' aspects of campaigning that most popular or scholarly accounts of campaigns such as this usually gloss over or ignore.

Towards the end of the narrative Mercer gets leave to go home. Visiting his wife, she begs to return with him, and (against his counsel) does so. Mercer ultimately sees out his involvement in the campaign in company, with his wife's needs adding to the complexities of his own logistical billeting difficulties. The intensity and detail of his account peters out a little towards the end, but overall this is a remarkably rich and involving account of one of the world's most written about campaigns and battles.

This edition benefits form copious quantities of maps and illustrations, alongside plenty of editorial interjections that further elucidate numerous pertinent points. The biographical detail on Mercer at the start of the book is great as well, and there's more additional matter at the end. The abridged version was somewhat spoiled by an abundance of egregious typos. Thankfully the editorial care taken here is of an altogether different and much higher order.

Essential reading this, for the Napoleonic history nut in general, and the Waterloo obsessive in particular. I'm glad I read both versions. The longer of the two would've perhaps been too much for our brief Waterloo 200 trip, but of the two it's by far the better.

Book Review: The Eagle's Last Triumph - Andrew Uffindell

The Little Corporal's Last Laurels, or how Boney battered Blücher's shield at Ligny, preventing Wellington's spear-thrust at Quatre Bras, momentarily deferring defeat.

Near the end of this excellent book, as Andrew Uffindell summarises his analysis of Ligny, he characterises Blücher's stout Prussian defence - the old hussar's favourite defence being attack (hence his nickname, Marshal Vorwarts!) - as 'a shield. Behind this shield Wellington ... would muster his units into a spear at Quatre Bras. This spear he would then hurl into the flank of the French ... at Ligny.' He goes on 'But the 'spear' never arrived... Thus Blücher was left alone to face the brunt of Napoleon's thunderbolts.'

For me these brief extracts neatly sum up the superb combination of trenchant analysis and evocative description that characterise this very informative and highly enjoyable book.

Originally published in 1994, Uffindell's book on Napoleon's final victory - against the Prussians at Ligny, on 16th June, 1815 - has been reissued to coincide with the bicentenary of Waterloo. As Uffindell says in his preface, 'Interest in Waterloo is unlikely to fade'. Indeed, and quite naturally, as so many of us continue to remember the events of two centuries past, this area of publishing is clearly enjoying something of a boom right now. [1]

Ligny, by Ernest Crofts. Napoleon can be seen here, atop the hill at Brye, by the windmill (the lower right sail of the windmill is pointing at him!).

The Eagle's Last Triumph starts by examining the context, in a chapter titled Stormclouds of War, as Napoleon returns from his Elban exile, and the eagle does indeed fly, as Bonaparte had prophesied it would, from steeple to steeple.

Uffindell then turns to an analysis of the commanders and forces of the three main adversaries. He sets down a very interesting analysis of all the antagonists, but for me it was his exposition of the Prussian forces that was particularly intriguing, as English language histories have tended to focus first on the British contributions, and second on the French. This is now changing, with writers like Peter Hofschroer waving the flag for the Prussian (and other Germanic) contributions.

It's fascinating to read Uffindell's verdict re Blücher and Gneisenau, who he judges as individually flawed, but strong together. This complementary, effect arising from differences of character, is further paralleled in the combination of Wellington & Blücher, Wellington being more cautious and defensive, whilst Blücher was more reckless and fond of attacking. But returning to the Prussians, Uffindell essentially credits Blücher as the inspiration, and Gneisenau as the brains.

Gneisenau, painted by George Dawe.

Also of interest is the fact that the Prussian army - both Prussia and her army having almost been destroyed in previous campaigns against Napoleon - was not composed like either the French or British forces, having significantly less cavalry and artillery, and a much higher proportion of raw militia. They also had little or no strategic reserves, due in part to their organisational methods, and a rather different staff organisation. Whereas the French & 'British' [2] were lead by domineering controlling egos, the Prussian command was more 'staff' based.

Blücher, as Marshal Vorwarts, by  by Emil Hünten.

Next comes the build up to the 16th June, as Napoleon famously 'humbugged' Wellington, quite literally stealing a march on his British adversary. This section is great, and, like Mercer's account of his journey towards a climactic battle (Waterloo in his case), builds the excitement terrifically.

The chapter covering the action at Ligny comprises what is perhaps a surprisingly small part of the whole, at only 29 pages (pp 91-120) of a book that's only a little over 250 pages long. That means that just over 10% of the book is given over to the lynchpin narrative of the action itself. But this isn't a complaint, as it's all done so terrifically well, Uffindell situating Ligny in its context - for example by reference to Chandler's concept of the Napoleonic battle category of 'twin battles' - with the Waterloo campaign providing a twin set of twin battles (Ligny and Quatre Bras on the 16th, and Waterloo and Wavre on the 18th)!

Blücher comes a cropper at Ligny.

The description of the action itself is both information rich, and also very evocative: 'The very earth trembled with the terrific concussion of the awesome barrage. Guns spat fire and death.' Uffindell also displays a very nice slightly antiquated turn of phrase, using such terms as 'smote', for example: 'Frightful was the carnage that then ensued.' I love that!

It was frequently observed in contemporary accounts that the fighting at Ligny (and two days later at Plancenoit) was particularly savage, a bitter rivalry having grown up between the French and Prussians. Such sanguinary settings make for exciting reading. Here's just one terrifically horrible excerpt:

'Lieutenant Barral of the French grenadiers charged through Ligny, along a street paved with corpses. His feet did not touch the ground itself once. Behind him followed a French battery which trampled and galloped over the crushed bodies. The merciless passage of heavy hooves and wheels caused corpses seemingly to spring to life again by a freak of elasticity. Lieutenant Barral found it horrible to contemplate.'

A print depicting Ligny, attributed simply to 'the german School'!

Having described the battle itself very well, Uffindell turns his attention to Quatre Bras, devoting about as much space to that battle as he did to Ligny. This is very useful, as the two battles, with their inter-related balancing of forces and goals - the French dealing with two enemies they wanted to separate, whilst the Allies attempted to unite - meant the to actions were intimately connected. In this context, what Uffindel calls 'The Fatal Peregrinations Of D'Erlon', that being the title of the chapter that deals with this episode, is fascinating.

The book then goes on to relate in brief what happened on the 17th and 18th, and even what became of the protagonists after Waterloo brought this long period of warfare to its close. Numerous anecdotes derived from both contemporary and secondary sources keep the developing story highly interesting. Four example, in the move northwards towards Waterloo, Napoleon chastises a unit that retired from the field, and praises another that fought well. When Bonaparte singles out Colonel Fantin des Odoards' unit for praise, Uffindell observes: 'French soldiers would eagerly exchange an arm or a leg for such a brief, factual sentence of praise from that remarkable leader of men, Napoleon.'

Describing Waterloo itself, Uffindell's colourful language reaches a kind of apotheosis: 'Wellington's army writhed like an immense, wounded serpent. Still it bellowed defiance but blood spurted forth from innumerable wounds.' In relation to the 'near run thing' idea, this extract (referring to the split between the troops Wellington commanded who fought resolutely and the elements that broke, or the huge numbers of deserters), is worthy of note: 'In fact, Wellington's army had split into two... Never in the history of warfare has such a victorious army presented such an image of defeat.'

The full image of Theodore Yung's Ligny artwork, as used on the book cover.

Having told the story, and done so very well, Uffindell turns to the analysis, and in this way revisits much of the action, extending the breadth and depth of his already excellent treatment. Doing so inevitably results in Uffindell addressing some of the contentious issues that surround this campaign.

And so it is that, like so many other books coming out on Waterloo at present, whether totally new or just re-issued, this one addresses some of the controversies that this epic and epochal battle has left to posterity. However, unlike some of these other books, The Eagles Last Triumph doesn't seek to justify its existence primarily on this basis, nor does it get bogged down, despite a very high level of detail, in either the examination of such issues, or the potentially partisan arguments that can rage over them (even all these years later!). 

Whilst Uffindell doesn't say too much about Grouchy, he does spend a lot of time dealing with D'Erlon's wanderings. I found this fascinating, and hope one day to perhaps trace the route Uffindell suggests, in the tracks of I Corps. Although he doesn't have much to say, positive or negative, about Grouchy, he does come to the defence of the 'bravest of the brave': 'Ney cannot be blamed for failing to seize the crossroads.' Uffindell may of course be right, but that never stopped people, Napoleon himself being the chief example, from doing so!

D'Erlon, from the French Wikipedia entry on him.

As if all this wasn't enough, Uffindell then devotes a sizeable chunk at the end of the book to information useful to those who might be thinking of visiting the battlefield today. Having been to the area twice in the last two years, I love this sort of stuff. It certainly whets my appetite for another visit! On p. 220 he expresses the challenges weather presents in an appropriately martial but still poetic manner: 'Generals Mist and Rain, the old enemies of the battlefield visitor, are redoubtable adversaries.'

Uffindell also sheds light on something that struck me when I photographed crops at Waterloo earlier this year (there's a pic on my Waterloo post here, if you're interested). The corn growing near Hougoumont was only a few feet tall - two probably, perhaps three at the most. 'The crops today' he tells us 'are much shorter than they were two centuries ago. In 1815, after the battle, observers could follow the march of various battalions in all directions by the swathes of trodden down corn. Sergeant James Anton of the 42nd Highlanders commented that the crops were as high as his bonnet... Before charging British infantry squares, the French cavalry often had to send forward an intrepid horsemen to plant a lance before a square to indicate its position amidst the rye. The French would then charge towards the lance pennon.'

Another thing that strikes the contemporary visitor to Napoleonic battlefields is the contrast between what brought one there, and what one now sees. In relation to this, I found it quite moving when Uffindell cited an anecdote from the memoirs of Louis Canler (of D'Erlon's Corps), regarding a French soldier his column passes, sprawled by the roadside with both legs blown off. Despite his suffering, this earnest young warrior still cried out 'Long live the Emperor! I have lost both my legs but I couldn't give a damn! Victory is ours! Long live the Emperor!'

Uffindell reflects, rather sombrely, 'Today, the cars from Charleroi to Brussels rush unheedingly past the spot where the Frenchman bled to death.'

Another handsome map from Alison.

Having read this, and thoroughly enjoyed it, I think it's time to read On The Fields Of Glory, another Uffindell book I have on the shelves. [3] However, as to The Eagles Last Triumph, I for one would certainly recommend it as an excellent Napoleonic read.

Up next, perhaps?

----------

Whilst looking for pictures to illustrate this post I found this page, which has lots of interesting images, including many contemporary pictures of locations and monuments on the modern day battlefield. 

NOTES:

[1] - He also says his book has been updated. I can't comment on any changes, as I have neither got nor read the previous edition. 

[2] - British is in inverted commas because the forces under Wellginton were of course predominantly continental, being composed of Dutch, Belgian and numerous Germanic contingents.

[3] - Actually I'd intended to take that on our recent Waterloo trip, as it's a book all about visiting the battlefields of the Waterloo campaign. I opted instead to take Ardennes, 1944, by Antony Beevor ('cause I was two thirds through it already!), and the abridged version of Captain Mercer's Waterloo Journal (because it was much shorter!).