The War Of The Two Emperors: The Duel Between Napoleon and Alexander: Russia 1812, by Curtis Cate
As one of the books I picked up in an effort to help out a local independent bookstore [1], this book fits the general theme of relationship drama and military and political history that fit the entire collection. This book is a somewhat thick volume (400 pages packed full of intriguing stories and details that give a clever parallel narrative of the French and Russian perspectives on the calamitous French invasion of Russia, with its momentous consequences. All throughout this book are hints of the corruption and constraints that both Napoleon and Alexander were under as they sought to achieve their aims and preserve their regimes in dangerous and insecure times, as well as notations of some of the lesser known minor figures in the war on both sides who might easily have lost their lives like so many others, and whose great works of literature (in particular) would never have been known to the world, nor would they have ever been remembered by anyone outside of their families and circles of friends.
In many ways, this is a parallel narrative history, looking, in chronological order, at the historical factors that led to Napoleon’s disastrous invasion of Russia, how both Alexander and Napoleon and their actions and those of their subordinates contributed to the disaster, and how there were many blunders along the way made by everyone, even as they tried to make the best of circumstances. I suppose in many ways we all ought to feel a bit better about ourselves and our own lives if we see people who are emperors and supposed geniuses like Napoleon make so many mistakes, as it allows us to feel that our own blunders and errors are at least not the sort that end up leading to the deaths of hundreds of thousands of people. Perhaps this can be of some comfort, given the fact that this novel rather grimly looks at the death and destruction that resulted from Napoleon’s invasion of Russia and Russia’s fabian strategy of retreating far enough to allow the Russian winter to destroy Napoleon’s army as it wrecked the ambitions of Hitler’s army in World War II.
Among the most remarkable aspects of this book is the fact that it focuses a great deal of effort at rehabilitating the historical reputation of two vital but not well-known figures, who the author presents as being essential to whatever success either the Russians or the French enjoyed. On the side of the Russians is the prickly and politically unpopular Livonian German noble General Barclay de Tolly, whose successful efforts at preserving Russia’s army in the face of Napoleon’s assault earned him an undeserved reputation as a master of retreat. On the side of the French is the prickly and honorable General de Caulaincourt, who was constantly needled by Napoleon (according to this book) for his fair-minded view of the Russians. Over and over again these two honorable and principled men appear as foils for the political games and ego-driven hostility engendered by their supremely ungrateful imperial masters. On the whole, though, even beyond these two pictures, the book is full of skillful character sketches as well as telling and often trenchant observations of the results of human folly on the lives of people caught in the middle.
A book like this is particularly useful because it helps us to recognize that war and conflict are not glorious and romantic, but that conflict often occurs for foolish reasons and causes massive death and destruction to people whose worst offense was simply being in the wrong place at the wrong time to die by freezing, by the slashing of a lance or saber, or by bullets and cannonballs and the bleeding and infections they caused. The discussion of death and the destruction of so many towns and cities and homes and lives, where the egos of puffed up men (and sometimes women) lead to tragedies for entire nations, where everyone involved has hidden agendas and is ungrateful for the service that is given to them by others reminds us of the responsibility that human beings not unlike ourselves bear for the sorry state of the world. Let us hope that our own marches and journeys are a lot more successful than that of Napoleon, though sometimes I have my doubts.
[1] See, for example:
https://edgeinducedcohesion.wordpress.com/2014/09/15/in-my-tribe/
https://edgeinducedcohesion.wordpress.com/2014/09/24/book-review-a-medieval-family/
https://edgeinducedcohesion.wordpress.com/2014/09/26/book-review-ripples-of-battle/
https://edgeinducedcohesion.wordpress.com/2014/09/30/book-review-four-queens/
Edge Induced Cohesion 