Book Review: Seven Men of Gascony, R. F. Delderfield

NB: Another one of my occasional archival updates. This was originally written around 2014, but then forgotten about. Posting it now after a thread on TMP about Napoleonic historical fiction made me think of it again.

Delderfield was primarily a novelist, famed for being the author of A Horseman Riding By and other such works, from around the middle of the 20th century. I was loaned Seven Men of Gascony by a friend of my dads, when I was around 11-12 years old, who knew I was passionate about Napoleonic history.

I really enjoyed it back then. So much so, in fact, that I also borrowed and read one of the author's contemporary romances, Diana. All these years later, and I find myself getting back into Napoleonic history. I've now read several other books by Delderfield, all factual and all on Napoleonic subjects, The March of the Twenty-Six, about Napoleon's Marshals, and Napoleon in Love (no explanation necessary!) being the most recent.

Another of Delderfield's non-fiction Napoleonic works.

Returning to things one loved as a child can be hit and miss. But on this occasion I'm relieved to find that I still enjoy reading this. Having recently read Tolstoy's much lauded epic War And Peace, as well as Thackeray's Vanity Fair, it's nice to read fictionalised history of the era told from a French perspective (the characters being French, that is, the author was very much an Englishman), plus this is very much easy-reading compared with Tolstoy (and perhaps even Thackeray?).

That Delderfield was steeped in the history of the period is very obvious. Anyone who's read any of the many Napoleonic memoirs, of which there are an abundance, will recognise numerous tableaux, woven into this well told tale. 

Delderfield is an intelligent, articulate, old fashioned writer, and, as just mentioned, very well informed on his subject, which makes this an enjoyable read. Sure, it's not part of the canon of great literature, like War and Peace, but it's a much easier read, taking itself seriously enough, but not too seriously (a harsher way to say the same thing is that Tolstoy is deeper, but Delderfield is less pompous), and at times even as reflective on deeper themes as Tolstoy liked to continually remind us he or his characters were.

Chortle!

One of my main areas of interest in the Napoleonic era at present is Russia, 1812, and Delderfield's characters pass through this appalling episode, giving the reader some very evocative and memorable scenes. Delderfield rather cleverly structures the book as a whole around the major rivers in each theatre: we start under the heading of The Danube, during which episodes the protagonists pass through the Austrian campaign of 1809 (Aspern-Essling, etc.); The Tagus covers events in Portugal and Spain; The Niemen is the central-European bridge into Russia; the Elster finds the voltigeurs we're following retreating through Prussia; and the final river is The Sambre, where the books reaches it's conclusions. There's even a section called The Otter, in which the 'file' of soldiers wind up as prisoners in the south of England!

The River Otter. 

One senses that Delderfield includes something of himself in the character of Gabriel, who's the most fully-realised actor in the story. The others, mostly the titular 'Seven Men of Gascony', but also Napoleon, various Marshals, commanders and others, including Nicholette, a cantiniere, are colourfully drawn, but in a fairly simplistic way. I haven't read any Bernard Cornwall yet, but as far as my limited knowledge of historical fiction goes (mainly limited to Cadfael and Flashman at present), this is a good solid read, and will be of most appeal to those like myself with a 'thing' for Napoleonic history.

In conclusion, the overall story itself is a brisk, breezy, easy read, albeit that the tale it tells is far more arduous than is the experience of reading about it. Not a golden work of literary genius, perhaps, but good solid fun, with the added benefit of being told from the French side for once.

The author.

Kit Build/Review: 54mm Airfix Napoleonics, Pt II - Imperial Guard Grenadier, 1815

Well, my 400th post on this here blog. I wanted it to be on something special, to celebrate attaining this... er, well, whatever it is... !? You probably know what I'm driving at!

This kit has a very special place in my heart, as it's a smaller version of a kit my dad built when I was a kid. A kit which was probably instrumental in fomenting my interest in the era. My dad's was the 1/12 kit, which stood on a round base. He had done, as I remember it, a very good job, if also rather basic: blocked out in the appropriate colours, with little or no shading, but very neatly painted. The face looked like it had been done in oils, and had a more detailed washed range of colours, to look lifelike, rosy cheeks, etc.

The instructions.

Unlike some of these kits, this one's only got parts for one pose. What it does have, however, by way of variety, is alternate legs - one pair in gaiters, one in trousers - and an alternate (cord/tassel-free) bearskin. I was intending to use the trousers, and not the gaiters. Perhaps on account of the fact the last figure was in gaiters. But in the end I didn't, because of issues of fit.

The two sprues.

I always dreamed of making Historex 54mm kits as a kid, which I'd see in old copies of Military Modelling. But I never did. Nor did I build any kits like these. So this is all part of an unfulfilled childhood dream finally coming to fruition. Which is rather nice! The parts are nicely sculpted, and pretty well cast, with only a little flash. Clean up was pretty easy and straightforward.

Parts separated and ready for clean up.

At this point everything's cleaned up and laid out ready for assembly, excepting the straps. I was still hoping the trousers would fit, so to speak. But whereas the gaitered legs had a corresponding male notch for the female cleft in the waistcoat, the trousered legs didn't. Something I only twigged when I went to assemble these parts.

Everything cleaned up. Thinking I'll use campaign style legs.

Once the legs, torso and head sub-assemblies were built, I cut the supplied thin styrene sheet into the strips for the straps. I make the musket strap longer than suggested, so I can add more detail, looping it over with buckles, etc. Fitting the straps is quite a tricky stage of the build. Especially when, as I usually do, you balls it up repeatedly! 

Straps cut from the very thin plastic sheet that's supplied.

By this point I've got the full figure assembled, having changed over to the gaiter-clad legs, and with straps and epaulettes all in place as well.  In the picture below I've cut his right hand off, and I'm making a wrist sized wedge to get a better angle/grip on his musket.

Wound up using the gaiter legs, and doing surgery on his right hand.

When it came time to undercoat him in Halfords grey primer, I opted to also undercoat the Hasegawa 1/72 Grant tank I've been building on my visits to the Wisbech IPMSmeetings. That'll probably appear in another post, when it's done. 

Getting ready to aerosol undercoat a few models in one go.

On this occasion I kept a couple of items - sword/bayonet scabbard, and cartridge box - separate. This was because completely assembling the previous model had made accessing certain areas very tricky. This time I wanted better access to these areas. So I decided to paint the figure pretty thoroughly, and those parts to, but whilst unattached, before bringing them all together. 

Starting to block in colours.

Whilst I'd modified the pose of the previous line Infantryman model, I was building this as suggested. But I did still want to jazz it up a little. I thought about doing him as a Dutch Grenadier (all in white, with red facings). But the desire to do it in the same pose and uniform as dad's model won out. The four mods I did were: texturing his backpack (with a heated pin); making a more detailed musket strap; improving the right hand grip on the musket;  and a pair of tiny - and I mean teeny-weeny -golden earrings, such as an old grognard might well have sported.

In this pic I'm making a tiny earring for his right ear. Can you spot it?

I forgot to take any more pics for quite a while, becaming deeply absorbed in the processes of detailing, shading, etc. The next few photos are much later, after much to-ing and fro-ing, working very slowly. The shading is starting to cover more areas: backpack, face, waistcoat and leggings, etc.

Starting to do a bit of shading.

My first attempt at attaching the cartridge box and scabbards was a bit off. The cartridge box was ok, but the sword and bayonet scabbard were unsatisfactory, and only very tenuously connects anyway. 

The sword and bayonet in fixing attempt no. 1...

In the pictures above and below I hope it can be seen that I textured the backpack, which is supplied as a very smooth boxy thing, to make it look more like a raw cowhide rucksack. I did this by heating a needle-tipped tool I made over a flame. Laborious, yes. But a great result, I think. When appropriately painted, I think it looks rather lovely!

Not sure if you can see, but I textured his backpack with a heated needle.

The last few pictures show how he was looking when I stopped, at about 11pm, having spent most of the day slowly painting him. I spent ages working very laboriously on him. Not exactly time-efficient. But enjoyable. Several areas were worked over repeatedly, such as the tunic buttons, as I kept lousing them up! 

This is how he looks at close of play today.

Still needs a little more doing...

I also removed the scabbards, retouched the areas underneath, and re-attached them, but in a better position. They're also more firmly attached as well. Although there's still a bit to do, mostly on his bearskin, such as detailing/shading the cords and tassels, and improving the grenade emblem atop it, that'll have to wait. But in conclusion, I love the kit, and have thoroughly enjoyed building and painting it.

...such as shading of his cords/tassels.

Sword/bayonet in position no. 2.

The two Airfix figures I've made so far.

Book Review: Wellington and the Fortunes of Peace, Rory Muir

In terms of scholarship and writing quality, volume two of Rory Muir's epic Wellington is on a par with volume one, and therefore a five bicorne affair. However, I'm not convinced by his stated reasons for his choice to split the book in two before Waterloo. [1] And, although I do find some of the post Waterloo stuff interesting, by and large it's nowhere near as compelling to me as the stuff that leads up to and includes Wellington's role as Napoleon's most effective adversary.

An iconic image.

Wellington and Blücher 'floging' [sic.] Boney.

At the time of starting this review I was with Wellington in post-Waterloo occupied France. And, with the sound of the cannon of Waterloo ringing in ones ears, it's still interesting, if not quite as exciting as events up to and including June 18th, 1815. Muir has already mentioned a monument to the fallen of Waterloo that was never actually built; I wonder what coverage there might be of Capt. Siborne's travails, and Wellington's role in relation to the latter's researches, and his famous Waterloo dioramas?

Wellington's way with the ladies and his 

relations with Ireland lampooned.

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It's now some time later, and I'm really struggling to keep up sufficient interest in the book, in which for much of the recent narrative, e.g. about the trials, literally and metaphorically, of the government with the king and his wife, Caroline, Wellington is more or less a peripheral figure. Albeit an admittedly important and influential one. Consequently chunks of the book read more like a general history of the period, in feel, than anything specifically Wellingtonian.

Some of the topics covered, such as the Catholic Emancipation business are, I suppose, of historic interest. Although as a rational materialist I find all this religious tomfoolery worse than tiresome. And even then, to the degree in which I am interested, I'm more inclined towards enjoying such caricatures as are shown here, all three of which immediately below relate to the Catholic business, than to trudging through the arcana that Muir sedulously covers.

Wellington's duel with Winchelsea. [2]

William Heath depicts Wellington as the King's coachman.

Wellington & Peel attack Mrs Constitution, letting Popery in the back door.

I admire Muir's obvious passion for his subject, and the amount of work he's done. And even more, perhaps, how he shares the fruits of his labours not only in commercial book form, but via his website (see below). And he obviously and unquestionably has great skill and flair as a writer. But none of this, alas, changes the fact that for me, Wellington is most interesting in relation to Napoleon. Once Napoleon disappears from the picture, it all feels a bit mundane.

Wellington as PM, and Ass!

'Majesty & Grace'...

Wellington fell from his horse, at a review, May 29th, 1829. [4]

And whilst this book and the first volume help add depth and nuance to my understanding of Wellington, and show him to be above all a practical man. Nevertheless, they don't fundamentally change the view I already had, which is that in the long run I'm on the side of 'enlightenment' - not, I must make clear, with violent revolution (I'd say I'm more conservative in some ways than most capital C Conservatives) - but I do agree with Paine that 'monarchy ... is the popery of government'.

Wellington, for all his pragmatism, wasn't a fan of enlightenment thinking. He was emphatically a church and king man, and I'm most definitely neither. So, whilst I have yet to finish volume two, and can't therefore give a full and complete judgement, as things stand: I found volume one intensely enjoyable, and essential reading. Aside from Waterloo and the immediate aftermath, I find volume two significantly less interesting or compelling, and therefore certainly not essential reading. Unless, perhaps, you're a Wellington nut?

I'm not. So I'm far from certain as to whether I'll be willing to invest the time to finish this book, as excellent as it may be.

'The Royal Shambles', by Cruikshank. [5]

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NOTES:

First of all I should mention Muir's Life of Wellington website. There's a wealth of information here, as well as links to other sources.

[1] A cynic, indeed, the cynic in me, might say - does say - that having Waterloo in part two was actually done to ensure better sales for a second volume that otherwise might not fare as well as the first, commercially.

[2] Wellington fought a duel, despite being the prime minister, with the Earl of Winchelsea, at Battersea Fields, South London, on 23rd March, 1829. I've not yet read what Muir has to say on the matter. But it's not an event that fits with the otherwise cool-headed pragmatism he describes as Wellington's normal m.o. And it was Wellington who called out Winchelsea, not vice versa.

[3] In 'Burking' Mrs C. Peel and Wellington are compared with Burke and Hare!

[4] In Hyde Park.

[5] George IV holds Wellington's sword, the latter calming the monarch, saying 'as long as you keep hold of my sword, you'll be ok', or words to that effect. I.e. the king is only able to stay in power thanks to the backing of Wellington and the army.

Book Review: Osprey, Campaign series - Quatre Bras - John Franklin

NB - I found out, via a post on TMP, that this book was available in a Kindle edition on Amazon UK's website for just 99p (as opposed to £14.99). So I bought it. As with my other Osprey reviews, for reasons of copyright, apart from the cover, the images used here are sourced from elsewhere.

I should, perhaps, start this review by admitting I'm not always overly keen on the eBook format. And in the course of this review some of the more general issues I currently have with eBooks will come under consideration. Two things in their favour are, rather obviously, that 1) they're often cheaper (and sometimes, as here, much cheaper), and 2) they don't take up all that real estate on your shelves that ordinary books fill.

But to get on with the subject of this review: how about this book? Well, it's the Kindle edition of the popular small, slim, serial paperbacks which are an Osprey trademark, such as their Men at Arms uniform and equipment series, or their Campaign series, to which this title belongs. Osprey appear to have commissioned John Franklin, a new name in the field of Napoleonic literature (to me at any rate), to cover the Waterloo Campaign, such that there are now three titles by him in this sub-series within a series: this one on Quatre Bras, another on Ligny, and a third on Waterloo itself.

Let's start with the good news. The first thing to note is how well organised the content is. There's a short scene-setting introductory section, dealing with the context just prior to the campaign. This is immediately followed by a comprehensive chronology. This chronology starts with Boney escaping Elba, and runs up to late evening on June 16th, the day of the battle at Quatre Bras. I can see why you'd put a chronology here, but I'd have preferred it after the main body of the text. Either way, it's a usefully succinct reference point.

Very well organised!

Next come three 'opposing' sections: opposing commanders; opposing forces; opposing plans. As neat and well-ordered a structure as that guy's kit, pictured above! In Opposing Commanders we get very brief summaries of the commanders, limited in this instance to Wellington and the Prince of Orange on the Allied side, and Napoleon and Ney on the French side. [1] In Opposing Forces we get the OOB, and related info on command and composition, etc. And finally, a very brief synopsis of the two sides different goals, in Opposing Plans.

The real meat of this book, however, begins under the title The Campaign Opens, under which there are 19 sub-headings, each dealing with a major component of the unfolding action. 18 of these deal with the action at Quatre Bras, with the 19th quickly visiting Napoleon, further east, defeating the Prussians at Ligny. It's incredible how much detail and information there is on the action, and this is quite probably the best aspect of what this title has to offer. But the very density of the information, combined with two other factors, the style in which it's communicated, and the constraints of the Kindle eBook format, will soon bring us to some of the not so good news.

42nd Highlanders at Quatre Bras, by George Jones. [A]

One thing that struck me quite forcibly, in relation to the detailed minutiae of the myriad movements, themselves occurring amidst multiple ever-evolving actions - and given the arguments that the Waterloo campaign has consistently generated I was perhaps a little surprised about this - was the absence of any tentative note from Franklin's descriptions of events. The bulk of this account is essentially a long list describing the movements of various bodies of troops and the actions they were involved in; at no point was I aware, as I have been so often when reading about war in general, and Napoleonic warfare in particular, that Franklin felt any doubt about the information he was imparting. Having just read several other rather different accounts of Waterloo, in which such uncertainty was often a key note, this difference really struck me.

Before I embark on any critical comments [2], let's briefly finish the summary of contents. Following the highly detailed coverage of the action itself, we have Aftermath, The Battlefield Today, and Further Reading. One of these last elements that I particularly liked - perhaps in part because I've visited some of the Waterloo battlefield (and will be going again for the 200th anniversary!) - is the section called The Battlefield Today. Having not yet visited either the Quatre Bras or Ligny sites (we did have a nose around Plancenoit, in 2014) these sites have now been added to the 'must do' list! And, of course, Further Reading suggestions are always welcome and useful. So, to summarise my summary of the contents, what's best about this is how well organised the information is, and how much detail there is on the action of the 16th itself.

Brunswick troops at Quatre Bras, by Knötel. [A]

Okay, so now it's time to turn to the more critical observations. One or two of these have to do with how the book's been written [3], whilst several have to do with the way it feels reading it in the digital format I purchased. My first gripe, and this has proven true of all the eBooks I've bought so far, is the poor quality of the images. I've seen the originals of some of the eBooks I have (inc. this one and a book on modelling small-scale armour), and it's clear to me that one reason why one might want to spend more money on a hard copy could be for the higher quality of the images. 

In this edition, double-clicking on images in order to see them better, is, if you'll pardon an Osprey Men-at-Arms themed pun, uniformly disappointing. With such atmospheric pics as the portraits, actions, uniforms, and the like, this is a shame but not desperately troubling. But with the excellent 'bird's eye' view maps (they're sometimes referred to as '3-D'!), of which there are several here, the size and quality is, to my mind, unacceptably poor. Okay, you can just about read them (there's some very tiny text explaining what they illustrate), but these particular images are not only things of great beauty, but are rich in information: they deserve to be bigger and easier to read. The more basic maps fare better, but even they could do with being bigger and in higher resolution.

In other respects the selection of images supporting the text is, for the most part, about what one would expect. Most of the images, aside from the modern maps, such as the portraits of commanders, the views of various actions, uniform plates, and so on, are reasonably vintage. There's not much to say about these images, which, whilst of very varied quality, from some that are quite naïve to some that are quite exquisite, are all very evocative, except that they are really quite charming, and add a lot to the appeal of books such as this. My only small quibble with the selection of these images was when I encountered three images (and I think it may have even been three in a row?) on the same subject, namely the Prince of Orange, 'heroically' tipping his tile! There are also several original pieces by regular Osprey artist Gerry Embleton. [5]

There are three pics of this scene, showing the young Prince

of Orange raising his hat. This isn't one of them!

Like the area of image quality, which is a general concern I'm discovering I have with eBooks, my second problem has to do with a technical issue, this time regarding formatting, and how the Kindle software functions. It might be that I'm just not sufficiently au fait with the technology. But certainly I find it's not as easy to jump back and forth in this eBook when I want to refer to maps - and in a book of this sort that's pretty much constantly - as it is in an ordinary paperback or hardback. [6]

The final issue I had with this book, and, to be fair, it might be the 'other side of the coin' in relation to some of the strengths of the book, is not one of a technical/format nature, as were the previous two, but has to do with Franklin's approach to the text. But before I get to any criticisms, another thing I would like to observe on the positive side is how, as explained in his Author's Note at the end of the book, he remarks that 'wherever possible the original terminology has been employed'. Bravo! I've heard tell of translations of, for example, Caesar's account of his wars in Gaul, in which the editorial/translation team have decided to use modern terminology instead of Roman terms. Wrong! Franklin's way is most emphatically the right way.

As I've already alluded to, Franklin is certainly to be commended for packing his account full of information - and for those wanting an information rich account, this is definitely a very useful book - but it is, as a result, and because of the way it's done, rather dry. And this type of dryness translates, for me, into two rather doleful D's: difficult to follow (not helped as outlined above by the Kindle formatting) and, alas, rather dull. Franklin's approach here is more Siborne or Clausewitz than than Barbero or Paul Britten Austin, if you know what I mean? [7]

In some important respects this is, and quite obviously so, one hopes, very much a complement. Siborne and Clausewitz are both highly respected authorities, particularly, and very naturally, in the circles in which they are best known and understood. But theirs aren't the easiest or most enjoyable accounts to read by a long (grape) shot. And nowadays, one might wish for accounts that are both factually as correct as one can hope to be, and yet are also engaging at the same time. Ideally I want both information and enjoyment!

Franklin's account is saturated with information, and on that count I'd score it five out of five, but, whilst it's not the dry and stodgy porridge of Clausewitz's account of 1812 - reading that really did, literally, give me a headache - it is still hard to keep it all in one's mind (a fact not helped, as already mentioned, by the way the eBook format makes referring to maps trickier than it ought to be). But, as I've now said numerous times, to be fair, there is a heck of a lot of information, and perhaps sometimes it is an either/or case with information vs. drama?

71st Highlanders at Quatre Bras, again by George Jones. [A]

My final criticism of the text has to do with nomenclature: Franklin was dead right to use the languages and titles of the era when it comes to ranks, units, formations, etc. But I have to confess I don't like how he chooses to render the titles of the commanders. Constantly reading such full and correct but unnecessarily verbose titles as Sir Arthur Wellesley, 1st Duke of Wellington, or Willem, Hereditary Prince of Orange-Nassau, was, I found, rather galling. I would personally prefer a practice I've seen other writers employ, whereby they give the person their full title once, ideally when first mentioned, and thereafter use shorter names, e.g. simply Wellington, or The Prince of Orange. [8]

In terms of information, I'd score this five out of five (primarily for quantity; I'm not sufficiently expert to judge the quality [see note 2 below!]); in terms of user-friendliness and the quality of the experience in Kindle, it'd be two or three out of five; and finally, in terms of enjoyment - how much of a pleasure was it to read? - I'd score it three out of five.

A reviewer at Amazon's UK website, writing about Corunna by Christopher Hibbert, says 'I'm a huge fan of history, particularly if it's about the Napoleonic wars, but I'm not a huge fan of history books filled with fact after fact and nothing to 'hook' you' (you can read that review here, if interested). I find it hard to say this, especially having followed some exchanges on TMP in which Franklin and another forum member (registered under several different names over an extended period) engage in some quite vitriolic exchanges, but, despite it being a well organised and fact-filled read, I found it rather flat and dull.

This was especially noticeable to me, as also was the absence of any real sense of the 'fog of war', having just read several incredibly compelling and moving accounts of other aspects of the Waterloo campaign, the best of which were Paul Britten Austin's 1815 The Return of Napoleon, and David Howarth's A Near Run Thing. So, as hard as I find it to be openly critical of what is obviously a well researched labour of love, I felt, when I first submitted an Amazon review, that I must score this at three out of five. However, after re-reading some of the book, and going over my reviews, I eventually opted for four stars, despite my not having really greatly enjoyed the fact-filler but rather dry text. This said, it's definitely worth having and reading, and I probably will be getting his Ligny and Waterloo titles as well, certainly if they're going for just 99p!

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Images:

[A] These pics were found at pinterest. This link ought to get you there: Waterloo 200

NOTES:

[1] In a way this is fine and obvious, but in another way, perhaps it isn't? Wellington and the Prince of Orange both commanded at the battle this book covers, as did Ney, but Napoleon, of course, did not, as he was busy fighting Blücher at Ligny. You could of course argue that as Napoleon was C-in-C (not to mention something of a control-freak!) and Ney was working to his orders...etc. Granted. But one could also argue that as Napoleon features more centrally in the Ligny and Waterloo battles, those would be the titles in which to cover him. Otherwise there's a danger that there could be some repetition of content in other volumes in the series, as there might also be regarding Wellington.

[2] My limited knowledge of the subject doesn't permit me to extend my critique to the factuality of the actions described. At present I'm busy reading books like this to try and learn what allegedly happened. I frequently see online debates, even some in which Franklin has himself commented (for example some currently active over at TMP), in which such things are discussed, and often rather too heatedly for my liking. I'll leave such debate, at least for the time being, to the more learned!

[3] I feel mildly paranoid about the hubris of critiquing anyone who has the wherewithal to do anything successfully in the public domain, such as writing a book like this. But I also value quite highly the views of others, people who like me are buying and reading such books, whether they express them on their blogs, in a forum, or on a commercial website. I almost always check several reader reviews before buying a book (usually via Amazon UK). But to be perfectly clear: I have nothing but respect and admiration for those who put their work 'out there', such as authors like Franklin. 

By and large when I write reviews, especially if they're destined for Amazon, for example, I try and stick to stuff I love. So any more critical reviews, should I get as far as posting them, have been agonised over as they've been written and re-written! With my Napoleonic reading I'm intending to be more comprehensive, and I hope to ultimately write something about more or less everything I've read, posting shorter versions on Amazon, and longer versions here. Why? For several reasons: doing so helps me both evaluate and remember what I've read; because I find when others do so it helps me make informed decisions, and I want to contribute to that process; and lastly, simply because I enjoy doing it!

[4] I don't see that this has to be so. Sure, eBooks will be bigger, memory wise, if they have better quality (i.e. higher resolution) images. But that's something I for one definitely want. Indeed, I can't see why, ultimately, eBooks ought not to be able to challenge conventional print (on yet another front!) by supplying superior size and quality images. But as they are, the images here are, to me, the equivalent of what low sample-rate MP3 music files are to a CD-quality track: the original image (or music, to keep the analogy going) may be fabulous, but granular low-res versions, be they MP3 music files or the images in this Kindle edition, aren't up to snuff.

[5] Embleton was the uniform illustrator for another Osprey title I recently reviewed, on uniforms of the Mexican-American war. As accomplished as his contributions to this title undoubtedly are, they sit slightly oddly in the book, to my eyes - and I'm an art graduate and occasional illustrator myself - which is dominated, for the most part (and excepting the maps) by more antique art styles. 

   My favourite of Embleton's contributions is the image of some Jägers in a field of corn. The other three of his works (at least the ones credited to him) are all reproduced twice, once in colour, and once in back and white (with numerical annotations on the latter), and accompanying blocks of text set against grey backgrounds. These appear to illustrate little vignettes, drawn from the main narrative, which the text explains in more literal detail. 

   Interestingly there's a note at the very end of the book saying that 'the original paintings from which the colour plates in this book were prepared are available for private sale'. As an occasional freelance artist and illustrator I can really relate to that! Osprey give Embleton's website address, and then add: 'The Publishers regret that they can enter into no correspondence upon this matter'!

[6] In the end I discovered that what I had to do was jot down the 'locations' where the maps were (not page numbers, because there are no page numbers, the format being fluid and flexible; i.e. depending on the size of screen one might have more or less pages), whilst placing a bookmark at the point in the text where I momentarily exited to visit the map. I could then navigate back to my bookmark. Perhaps as I read more eBooks using the Kindle app on my iPad I'll get better at this sort of thing. But it did strike me that there might possibly be some better way!

[7] For anyone who doesn't know what I'm getting at here, contrasting Siborne's treatment of the Waterloo Campaign with Paul Britten Austin's treatment of the 1812 Russian campaign shows two polarities of approach. Both are based on exhaustive use of original source material, but Siborne recasts it into a rather impersonal sounding/feeling factual narrative, whilst PBA weaves the original protagonists words into a richly evocative and very humane (and emotionally involving) tapestry. The Siborne approach is, perhaps, rather more like a scientists report, with the the facts all present and correct (as far as the author could determine them; and yes, I know there are debates over the correctness of some of his information), but the feeling of personal human involvement, the subjective voice, rinsed out. 

    Paul Britten Austin's approach takes the same kind of material, but leans instead towards the subjective experience, with a result more like what that the author himself very aptly described as a 'word film'. In my ideal world, you could have the two things together. I'm trying to think if I've encountered such a balance... Was Gill's 1809 trilogy a case in point? Is this what Chandler achieves in his Campaigns of Napoleon? Some of the books I've enjoyed the most, Barbero's The Battle, Zamoyski's 1812, and Simms' The Longest Afternoon have certainly felt that way. But perhaps they err more towards the subjective?

[8] I'm not alone in this: the book is criticised for this approach in a Miniature Wargames review.

Book Review: 1815, The Return Of Napoleon, Paul Britten Austin

I loved Paul Britten Austin's magnificent 1812 trilogy. So when I eventually discovered another Napoleonic book by him, I snapped it up on sight. As with his 1812 works, PBA utilises what he refers to as his 'word film' technique, allowing the words of contemporary sources to tell much of the story. The result is a tremendously vivid and and compelling tale.

Many of the characters who appear in his 1812 work are here again, as well as many who weren't. And as often as not the pithiest observations come from the lesser known players, as when Larreguy de Civrieux, someone I'd never knowingly encountered before in my fairly wide Napoleonic reading, describes Napoleon as 'that genius, angel or demon, he was dominating us all.'

Napoleon departs Elba, by Joseph Beaume.

There are so many books on Napoleon and the era that bears his name. Some cover his whole life, or particular aspects, periods, battles or campaigns. This one deals with the 'crazy enterprise' that was Bonaparte's return to Paris, from his exile in Elba. In his book on the Waterloo campaign the Swiss military theorist Jomini makes a point also made here, saying that really Napoleon was constrained by developing events to try this last gamble.

Once Bonaparte had returned to France - and things didn't get off to the smoothest of starts - the Congress of Vienna (in words attributed to that arch-schemer, Talleyrand) declared that he was 'placed outside all civil and social relations', and that he'd 'delivered himself to the public vengeance.' I.e. the Powers were giving carte blanche for any royalist nutter to assassinate him! PBA observes drily 'Never before have all the powers of Europe declared war on one man.'

The brig 'Inconstant' approaches France.

It's a remarkable and exciting story, and yet another testimony to both Napoleon's extraordinary charisma and energy, as in only twenty days he transforms his situation, and that of all Europe: setting out in command of only about 1,000 loyal troops, he swiftly succeeds in becoming, albeit only briefly on this final occasion, the master of a nation of (at his own reckoning) 28 million, fielding a large and enthusiastic army.

Those who are interested in this subject are quite likely to know roughly what happened, even if only in broad terms. For any who don't, I won't spoil their potential discovery. But reading this book adds a lot of fascinating detail, and really brings these momentous days to life with great verve. It's gave me a strong desire to traverse the Route Napoleon myself! I had hoped I might do so in 2015, 200th anniversary of the battle of Waterloo. But it didn't happen. I did, however, get to the Waterloo bicentennial.

Paul Britten Austen

My only complaint in relation to Paul Britten Austin's superb Napoleonic history books is that there are not more of them.

Book Reviews: Waterloo, Vols I & II, John Hussey

 

Wow... magnificent! I just finished volume two of John Hussey's mighty, epic two volume history Waterloo, The campaign of 1815. What a great literary-historical journey it was. 

John Hussey's account of the One Hundred Days campaign is nothing if not thorough. Fortunately his prose is more contemporary in style than, say, Capt. Siborne's, whose very large history of Waterloo - even bigger than this one, esp. if you include the third volume of maps - is known to be a tough slog. 

Nor is Hussey's work like Alessandro Barbero's more contemporary account, The Battle, which, placing one squarely on the battlefield amidst the action of the 18th June, has a very different feel and scope. Hussey tells a much bigger tale, of the 'big hats'; this is very much a command and control view of the campaign. There's lots on diplomacy, and even logistics (I don't quite know why, but for some reason I particularly love the latter aspect of military history!). And it soon emerges that the Allied coalition was, as Napoleon knew and gambled upon, a complex and quite fragile thing.

Despite numerous mistakes - strategic and tactical - Wellington was the man to get the job done.

But make no mistake, this is no less exciting for all that it stays closer to the upper echelons of command. For one thing, the way the two volumes are structured works really well: volume one begins with the diplomacy at Vienna, moves through Napoleon's return, before following the build up - Allied dithering versus rapid decisive Napoleonic action - and climaxing with the final three chapters, which focus on Ligny, Quatre Bras, and the wanderings of d'Erlon's Corps.

The excitement builds very nicely. And if, like me, you're obsessed with this era, Waterloo, or - quite probably - both, then the depth of detail will entrance. It is worth restating that this very definitely isn't Antony Beevor style down in the mud and blood stuff. So, if that's how you like your martial history, this just might be arduous going in the first half of volume one and the latter half of volume two.

Hussey is clearly very taken with Blücher's 'up and at 'em' style of leadership.

Volume two is almost a mirror image of volume one, kicking off with the brief pause of the 17th, before rapidly launching into the excitement and confusion of the 18th, and Waterloo itself. And there's a lot of confusion, something Hussey conveys extremely well. In fact, with admirable and almost paradoxical clarity.

Hussey paints a picture in which the Prussians don't come off too well in terms of staff work, with only Müffling shining in his role as liaison between Wellington and Blücher. Gneisenau, on the other hand, comes over as alternately timid and anxious or peevishly aggressive. And the lack of clear communication from the Prussian side becomes an oft-repeated lament.

Anyway, volume two quickly grips the reader with its intense and detailed coverage of the action of the 18th, opting for the classic 'Five Acts' approach (can anyone remind me who it was that first came up with that approach?) [1], which works extremely well. And, as he does with the whole history across both volumes, Hussey always gets over both his own views and those of others, even where they diverge, supporting his own position with clear and reasoned argument. It's a very compelling account.

Müffling, an effective liaison 'twixt Wellesley and Prussian brass.

Whilst Grouchy, d'Erlon and Ney have long been whipping boys for those whose admiration of Napoleon will brook no exceptions to his undeniable (if flawed) genius, that is not so here. Hussey lays the blame for the ultimate French defeat clearly and squarely at Napoleon's feet. One of the major problems stemmed from what could and often had been, in other times, one of the major strengths of Napoleon's leadership style: his desire to keep total control under his own hand.

As Hussey paints the picture here, this left Ney, brought in at the last moment, both emotionally slighted and practically uncertain; arriving on the eve of battle, with no formed staff, troops were added and subtracted from his command willy-nilly, as Napoleon - constantly changing his plans as he reacted to the evolving situation, sometimes under mistaken apprehensions  - saw fit. It was this situation that then lead to d'Erlon wandering around between Quatre Bras and Ligny, not only not benefitting French fortunes at either, but actually causing problems.

Grouchy, a man of two modes.

And as Hussey has it, Grouchy in the Waterloo campaign was a man of two modes. Up until he learned of Napoleon's decisive defeat he was vacillating and cautious, most likely too in awe of his imperial master to act decisively on his own initiative. And yet once he knew France was militarily beaten, he suddenly rediscovered his leadership mojo, and skilfully extricated his force, the one remaining part of the Armée du Nord that remained intact, safely returning it to France.

Unlike Grouchy, d'Erlon wound up both lost on the 16th, and defeated on the 18th. That the latter attack ultimately failed was a surprise to all, and in some major respects this was due to the 'fox hunt' style attack of the British and Allied cavalry. According to Hussey Napoleon's basic approach, though lacking in subtlety, most likely would've worked, in particular with an earlier start. But he also notes that communication at the top of the French army was no longer what it had once been, back in Berthier's day, and speculates on whether perhaps Grouchy and d'Erlon should've swapped roles with Davout and Suchet.

d'Erlon, lost two ways.

Hussey's coverage of the battle itself is superbly lucid, and highly exciting. And I also very much enjoyed how he managed to keep all the various narrative strands both separate, yet active and mutually reinforcing (unlike, all too often, the troops on the ground!). He also addresses some of the partisan nationalist bickering that's marred post-Waterloo history writing, and manages to come to very soundly reasoned and well supported conclusions of his own, whilst allowing for the differing views of other authorities.

Wellington on Copenhagen.

Whilst Hussey clearly admires Wellington, and shows how reasonable he was in comparison to, for example, the alternately strident or gloomy Gneisenau, his is not a hagiographic portrayal by any means. Wellington committed sins of both omission and commission. In the former category he failed to give preparatory orders early enough - hence the 'humbugged' bit - and even on the day, his disposition remained mistakenly over-weighted to the West. And worst of all, whilst Hougoumont was thoroughly prepared, La Haye Sainte was dangerously passed over.

Hussey's admiration for Blücher is perhaps more straightforward, like the man himself: whilst Wellington had gifts that allowed him to operate extremely well both on the battlefield and in the corridors of power, Blücher was simply 'that old devil' (as Boney put it); you could knock him down -and this campaign illustrated this quite literally - but he'd be on his feet and into the saddle, and back on the attack, if not the next day, then the day after. 

Marshal Vorwarts...

Having visited the battlefields myself twice (2014 and 2015), there was a special resonance when reading this account: having stood by the stone commemorating some of the actions of Mercer's RHA troop, and viewed a plaque attached to the church wall at Plancenoit, all the many place names and actions that took place and are so ably narrated here came vividly to life for me.

There's a lot of literature on Waterloo, that epoch-ending battle that finally brought the Napoleonic era to a definite full-stop. And a surprising amount of that literature is very good. But for me this is right up there with the best. A massive account - about 1,000 pages of narrative (that's not including notes, etc.) - that gave me huge pleasure to read, and has left me feeling far better informed on this fascinating chapter in European history.

The Prussians fight for Plancenoit.

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NOTES:

[1] Hussey does mention who it was who first described the battle of Waterloo as a drama in five acts, I just can't recall who he credits.

Hussey is very taken with Turner's depiction of The Field of Waterloo, but appears to favour the watercolour (above) over the oil version (below), inasmuch as that's the one he reproduces and discusses.