Book Review - Larrey, Surgeon to Napoleon's Imperial Guard: Robert Richardson

"The most virtuous man that I have known." Napoleon, in his bequest to Larrey.

Napoleonic warfare, for all the martial splendour of the peacock uniforms, was a sanguine business. As armies, battles, and wars became ever larger, so did the 'butcher's bill', particularly as the role of massed artillery grew, pitching flesh and bone against shot and shell.

It seems unsurprising now that at some point in the 19th Century the colloquial term sawbones came into use to describe surgeons. It's perhaps only surprising that the term seems to have originated after the Napoleonic wars, as it quite literally describes one of the most common  medical battlefield operations of that bloody era.

Larrey in action on the battlefield.

Larrey conducts operations in a 'casualty evacuation' station near the front.

The career and life story of Dominique Jean Larrey is backlit by these epic convulsions of 'military glory, that attractive rainbow, that rises in showers of blood' [1]. Indeed, Larrey was constantly up to his elbows in the gore of Napoleonic battlefields, frequently working, as in the upper of the two paintings above, on the field of battle itself, a fact also colourfully attested to in several passages in this excellent book. [2]

Larrey, as painted by Girodet.

The young lion, sporting his distinctive long, curly mane!

But the battles themselves were, in a manner of speaking, only half the battle. Not only did Larrey and his historic and innovative flying ambulance service daily brave death on the battlefield, seeking to restore life where others sought to take it. But they also had to contend with a military administration that treated them with barely credible contempt, rather as the casualties of war were themselves largely treated. A nuisance and inconvenience, an irritating distraction, or even obstruction, to the job in hand.

Larrey at work at Borodino, by LeJeune.

When a horse trod on a wounded man on the field of Borodino, one of Napoleon's entourage said words to the effect of, 'never mind, it's only a Russian', Napoleon famously replying 'on the field of victory there are no longer enemies, only men.' 

Whilst this, and Napoleon's interest in the medical services themselves (both generally and in his adoption of Larrey's initiatives) redound to his credit [3], sadly the norm was generally more in line with the original callous comment. Injured soldiers more often than not ceased to be treated humanely. They had, in fact, become less than men.

Richard Robertson, himself a doctor and medical man, has written a fascinating account of Larrey's life. The story is especially good because Larrey's career maps the whole period. Born just a few years before Bonaparte, his career in military medicine began some years before he first met his future emperor. That first meeting occurred at Toulon in 1794, prior to the young general's dizzying ascent to pre-eminence.

Although Larrey's memoirs include material on his pre-Bonaparte adventures, Richardson, having given a sketch of his background and early career, only really starts to get properly stuck in with the expedition to Egypt. From thereon in Larrey marches with the Guard, almost always near his emperors' side, through many campaigns, right up to Waterloo. 

From Egypt and the Holy Land, through the patchwork of German states and nations, to Poland and Russia, Larrey was there. And his main enemies throughout all this were not the enemies of France, per se, nor even the damage wrought by war, but disease and the administration. 

Larrey got the idea for flying ambulances from the impressive manoeuvrability of French horse artillery.

One criticism often levelled at Napoleon is that he didn't allow his subordinates enough independence. Well, I won't enter into that debate here as regards his military deputies. But it's clear that Larrey always stood by his principles, and would do so even if it brought him into conflict with vested interests. This was a big part of why his fascinating and inspiring passage through life was a rather stormy one. [4]

The Ambulance Volante predates Haynes manuals.

Surgery was his expertise, and both he and the French as a whole led the field in terms of successful battlefield surgery. The tales herein of the contrast between the old methods and the improvements of Larrey and others both chill and quicken the blood! In terms of the survival rate after amputations, the innovations of Frenchmen, Larrey amongst them, were demonstrably superior to older traditions. Nevertheless, adoption of new and better techniques proceeded with painful slowness, military medicine being a very conservative field. 

In addition to his famous flying ambulances, and his intense and principled dedication to seeing medical services better administered and provided for, another of Larrey's great contributions, once again related to his strict principles of always doing the right thing (and yet another that could potentially ruffle feathers), was his method of seeing patients in order not of rank or status, but the severity of their needs. 

A modern reproduction.

But if coping with appalling battlefield injuries was tough, dealing with disease was even tougher, as they fought an invisible and unknown enemy. Indeed, Larrey would himself come dangerously near death's door, contracting typhus at the tail end of the 1814 campaign. And whatever the practical medical issues were, there was always the administrative system to fight as well. Medical staff didn't hold military rank, and consequently were at the mercy of the often corrupt commissariat.

Napoleon was notably quicker to professionalise and militarise the army trains, which had formerly been a separate civilian adjunct. He did also eventually look to do something for the medical  corps, but it was too little, too late. French military medical services were not, in fact, to be properly organised until the closing stages of WWI! [5]

Larrey, immortalised on a stamp.

And a chocolate box! [6]

As well as having the grand sweep of the entire period, there's plenty of anecdotal detail: from the occasion on the campaign in Egypt and Syria, when Larrey operates on an Arab entertainer and his pet monkey, bringing tears of gratitude from the former and frequent scampering, leaping hugs from the latter; to the time he saves the life of Blücher's son, during the 1813 campaign, an act that found the inveterate enemy of France saving the surgeon's life in turn, when he was wounded and made prisoner after Waterloo.

Larrey did achieve fame and recognition in his lifetime, but it was a rough ride, and he was frequently sorely tried. Not just by the campaigning itself, but by rivalries, and fortunes that fluctuated between such highs as being made a Baron, given a home, and at several times being either honoured or  otherwise rewarded, to being passed over, intrigued against, not getting paid his dues, or - quite incredibly - being billed for the loss of equipment in Russia! [7]

Larrey's rather fetching artist wife, 'Laville'.

A rather poor image, but good in that it shows an ambulance and numerous medics in action.

Fortunately for all of us, like many in Napoleon's orbit, Larrey kept a journal, which he published, in part, during the Napoleonic era itself. His correspondence also survives, much of it having wound up in the Wellcome Institute archives. From these and other sources Richardson has assembled a vivid and moving account of a truly remarkable life, lead by a truly remarkable man.

Larrey was frequently called away from the wife (see above pic) and children he loved and treasured, to far-flung places where he carried out a very virtuous and very challenging occupation, often for precious little thanks, and frequently in great personal danger. But despite seeing so many others die on campaign, including such brave warriors and close personal friends as Desaix, Lannes and Duroc, Larrey himself was destined to outlive the adored imperial master whose friendship, respect and benevolence he earned.

Another view of the two wheeled ambulance.

A larger four-wheeled ambulance. This an illustration, I believe, for a Historex model.

And unlike the unfortunate Marshal Ney, Larrey even managed to weather the two monarchical restorations, although after the second his prospects were, for a while, rather shaky. But his fortunes would rally several times in later years. 

After Waterloo he could easily have moved abroad - folk in high places, from the ruler of Brazil to the Czar of Russia, offered him prestigious posts - but he preferred to stay in France, where he lived long enough to see Napoleon return one final time, to the mausoleum of Les Invalides.

The way Larrey's story ends - I won't spoil it by giving it away - is typical of his life, embodying action, principle, duty, etc. And like his whole life story, it's also really quite moving. 

A really excellent and thoroughly enjoyable read. Highly recommended.

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An English translation of Larrey's memories can be read here

NOTES: 

[1] Abraham Lincoln.

[2] One of the best involves a shell going off directly overhead as Larrey is at work. He doesnt even look up! With miraculous good fortune, nobody is injured, but Larrey's hat is peppered with holes

[3] Some of these anecdotes very much run counter to the 'black legend' of his callousness, so assiduously cultivated by his enemies.

[4] There's an excellent story told here about how he saved 48 soldiers with hand wounds - who stand accused of inflicting them upon themselves and are sentenced to death - daring to stand up to all those, right up to the Emperor, who are keen to make an example of these unfortunates. 

[5] A British surgeon who tried to persuade Wellington of the benefits of Larrey's innovations, the flying ambalance in particular, found even shorter shrift than Larrey did in France!

[6] It's interesting that the Larrey on the stamp is the younger, fitter man, whilst the Larrey on the chocolate box, undoubted benefactor of mankind that he was, is the later more corpulent Larrey!

[7] The scenario was complex and tortured: Larrey's pay was significantly in arrears, and it appears that those with power in the administration decided that billing Larrey for the losses in military medical equipment that occurred in Russia, during the ill-fated 1812 campaign, would allow them not only to save on paying him, but to get money from him. Bloody typical pen-pushing, money-grubbing bureaucrats. Leeches!

Book Review - Napoleon in Egypt: Paul Strathern

A gripping and exciting read.

In a rare instance of books living up to dust-jacket hype, Paul Strathern's book is indeed 'remarkably rich and eminently readable.' (This is from my edition, which is a Bantam hardback, as pictured above.) Several other reviewers have already covered a number of key points of interest in this excellent book, so I'll just mention a few things that struck me as particularly intriguing. For one thing, considered in conjunction with his Italian exploits, undertaken just prior to this Egyptian adventure, these episodes of Napoleon's early life might be taken as a premonitory microcosm of his larger career, a fact Strathern himself reflects upon near the books close.

Having taken on the Mamelukes and put them to flight, bringing Egypt more or less to heel, Napoleon had to deal with the aggravated landlords; Egypt was part of the Ottoman Empire at this point. The 'Turks', as they were then known, had been French allies, but they now joined with England, and even their own traditional enemy Russia, to oust the Republican infidels. The consequent French expedition to Syria, to meet this threat, has interesting parallels with that to Russia, inasmuch as Napoleon's and Berthier's much vaunted organisational skills don't seem at their peak. Just as Napoleon's normal modus operandi unravelled in Russia, so in Syria he failed to see every eventuality. This last fact stands in contrast with the myth of Napoleon's omniscience [1], a facet of Napoleon's genius much trumpeted by many writers, including Strathern himself (as on p 19: 'he learned to consider all the options ...', etc.).

Another image from the Fitzwilliam Museum Napoleonic prints

exhibition, currently on display in Cambridge. This one showing

Bonaparte in Egypt. Apologies for the poor quality of my photo!

However, with an ominous foreboding of what would later happen in Russia, Napoleons's troops, and even more so his horses, were not adequately prepared for conditions in Syria. In what Strathern calls 'a classic military mix up' French forces were finally issued with lightweight clothing, suitable to their initial theatre of operations, just as they embarked on a new campaign, during a change of season and under very different conditions: having sweated it out in the Egyptian delta wearing heavy European cloth, they were destined to endure the cold and wet conditions of winter along the eastern Mediterranean seaboard clad in lightweight summer fabrics!

The parallels with Russia extend beyond mere lack of preparedness in the clothing department, in that the crossing of the Sinai desert, closely followed by the siege of El Arish, found the French running out of supplies. As in Russia, living off the land frequently simply wasn't viable. One anecdote which illustrates this in a way both amusing and horrifying, whilst sounding uncannily like countless 1812 stories, is the mention of a major who, on awaking, discovers his troops have eaten his horse during the night! Everyone was suffering, again just as in Russia, but particularly the luckless equine contingent, whose reward for being long-suffering undernourished beasts of burden would often be to end up as dinner themselves.

The current UK edition looks like this.

Having noted all this, overall the expedition had been going reasonably well, the one major exception being Nelson's resounding defeat of the French fleet at the Battle Of The Nile (the one aspect of the campaign English readers are likely to be most familiar with). Despite this, Egypt had been successfully occupied and largely pacified, with Desaix's campaign into Upper Egypt, a model of success, forming the fascinating core of several chapters mid-way though this superb book. Napoleon's foes were regularly and soundly beaten, a serious rebellion in Cairo was successfully contained and put down. Certainly the clash of two very different cultures, namely Enlightenment-influenced post-revolutionary France, and the Mameluke ruled primitive conservatism of Islamic Egypt, looked very tricky to resolve. This mismatch remained at all times, barely below the surface, threatening to undo anything the French might achieve very rapidly, as ultimately proved to be the case. Had the French held on to this part of their empire longer, who knows what the global geopolitical outcomes might have been?

One of the many areas Strathern does an admirable job of covering, an area one might expect the more military buff type writer to perhaps gloss over, was the role of the 'savants'. Napoleon was inordinately proud to have been elected a member of the Institute of France. So much so that this part of his official title preceded his military rank during this period. Not only is this interesting in itself but, via a passing reference to how Napoleon was modelling his exploits on those of one of his heroes, Alexander The Great, we also learn that Ancient Greek 'natural philosophy' was closer to modern science in some respects than is often made out. A fascinating example is the savants collecting flora and fauna as they move through territories that are being occupied, sending samples back (to Cairo in this instance), much as Alexander had done in sending back specimens to Aristotle. Fascinating!

Gillray mocks the French savants in Egypt.

Strathern occasionally speculates on aspects of Napoleon's character, sometimes in what sounds like semi-Freudian pop-psychology terms, but fortunately he doesn't go in for too much of this, and what little there is is couched in purely speculative and gently understated terms. Of all such instances, the most striking is when he refers to Boney's annoyance and frustration during the slow-moving attrition of the Syrian campaign, noting that the setbacks he faced didn't undermine his sense of destiny, which, in Strathern's words, 'was his substitute for self knowledge.' 

The massacres perpetrated at Jaffa are horrifying to read about, and went on for about a week, starting with the drunken bloodbath after the initial breach and only ending with three days of systematic butchery, as the remnants of the garrison (who'd holed up in the citadel, and then surrendered to Napoleon's aides, Beauharnais and Crosier) were put to death. In typical dictator fashion Napoleon manages to justify his actions to himself, but many of his compatriots are all too aware that this could not be whitewashed. At the same time the bubonic plague was striking and, in marked contrast to his actions in ordering the massacre, Boney visited his sick troops: 'Is it mere accident that this hazardous and selfless act should have come just a day after he had been responsible for the most cold-blooded atrocity he would ever commit?' [2]

This was a gripping, exciting read. Now that I'm finished I've got a need for more!

Gillray received detailed instructions from his Tory paymasters

as to the composition and content of this incredible image.

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Notes:

[1] I don't mean to say in using the term myth that these ideas are totally unfounded, merely that in celebrating heroic charisma they are sometimes overstated.

[2] Strathern comments on what he regards as Napoleon's 'erroneous belief in willpower and ... overweening self-belief', hinting that Napoleon felt himself, as a man of destiny, safe from the contagion of plague. True or not, Bonaparte was both brave and foolhardy to take such a risk.