BOOKS.
THE BARON DE MARBOT'S MEMOIRS.* IT is hardly necessary to say much in introduction of the- Marbot Memoirs. Many reviews of the original have made at least the main features of a delightful book almost as- familiar in England as in France; and the excellent transla- tion now published is sure of a wide popularity.
The French may justly be proud of Marbot, though some critics suggest, with something like a sneer, that he was "a good story-teller." But the truth of his memoirs as a whole cannot be questioned, and few indeed of his stories can be convicted of anything more than slight inaccuracies in place- or date. If he does not always attain to the exact truth of a matter, it is because circumstances made it impossible. A most natural weakness makes him sometimes unfair to the enemies of France, and especially to the English in the Penin- sula. But his book fulfils the hope expressed by Napoleon in his will, after reading Marbot's defence of the Essling cam- paign against General Rogniart, that he would "con- tinue to write in defence of the glory of the French armies, and to the confusion of calumniators and apostates." To the French, therefore, these Memoirs stand as a record by an eye-witness of national heroism ; for whatever may be thought of Napoleon, the spirit which possessed his soldiers was certainly beyond all praise. And for English readers the book has an interest almost equally absorbing. It is a fine contribution to the romance of history. Having been written by the Baron de Marbot for his children, its amount of personal detail gives it a certain intimate charm which military memoirs do not often possess. Also, with all his soldierly frankness and straightforwardness of style, Marbot was a very shrewd student of character. He throws new light, not only on • (1.) Memoires du General Baron de Harlot. S vols. Paris E Plon, Nonrrit, et Cie. 1891.—(2.) The Memoir. of Baron de Marbot, Late Lientenamt-General in the French Army. Translated from the French by Arthur John Butler, late Fallen Of Trinity College, Cambridge. 2 vole, With Portrait and Maps. Lon- don: Longmans, Green, and Co. 1892,
Napoleon himself, but on his Marshals and the other officers who surrounded him. Augereau, L tunes, Massena, and others are studied and described with a vividness which, though Marbot had very strong prejudices of his own, is never altogether unfriendly. Perhaps we were never before made to realise so well what weak mortals most of these men were, apart from their master; bow full of small jealousies: how deficient in real military genius. Most of them had all the good qualities of a brave private soldier, and very few of them were born commanders, even of a brigade. Marbot, himself a most devoted and intelligent officer, quite as worthy of high command, one would imagine, as some of these men, may per- haps have been hindered in his advancement by the independent shrewdness with which he was able to take their measure,—and even, in spite of great admiration, that of Napoleon himself.
His clear-sightedness is shown by his way of dealing with the armies in whole and in part, as well as with the officers. It is not only these who are impressed upon us, with their various qualities ; but as the story goes on, we learn what kind of morale, what amount of desperate valour, to expect from the different corps, the different regiments. This power of making the armies live and move gives vivid interest to accounts of battles and sieges. Marbot makes us forget that we are already familiar with all these great combats. He sets us down in the midst of a battle : we share in the excitement of his hopes and anxieties, his daring deeds and hairbreadth escapes. We understand his feeling towards his men, especially the gallant 23rd Chasseurs, of whom he success- fully brought back so many from the Beresina. Seldom has a book been written which helps us so well to realise the outward and inward life of a soldier—" an almost ideal soldier," as his translator rightly calls him—simple, sincere, intelligent, and perfectly brave. That Napo- leon, to a certain extent, knew how to value such an officer as Marbot, is shown by his having frequently sent him on some specially dangerous duty. The most striking story of this kind, and the most delightfully told, is that of the night expedition across the Danube at Molk. It was a case of going quietly in the darkness to almost certain death,— a higher piece of heroism than any undertaken in the hot excitement of battle. Not much even of la gloire, which Marbot claims as a soldier's one greatest inspiration, was to be gained by a secret service such as this. Marshal Lames proposed it to him, the Emperor standing by—pointing down from the high balcony of the convent at Milk on the wide, stormy Danube roaring past in the darkness, bearing down great fir-trees, overflowing sandy islands, with the line of Austrian fires on the opposite bank—asking him if he would cross the river and bring back a prisoner to state whether General Hiller's corps was there, or on the same side with the French. The young man was bathed in a cold sweat at the thought of such peril. "I told the Emperor you would go," said Lannes. Napoleon hastened to add that on his own part it was a wish, not an order, and that Marbot was free to refuse so perilous an enterprise. Feelings that he could not define, the pride of being chosen, the love of glory, the love of his country, took possession of the young soldier :—
"‘J'irai, Sire !' m'ecriai-je sans hesiter. J'irai et
si je phis, je legue ma mere a Votre Majeste !'—L'Empereur me prit roreille, en signe de satisfaction, et le marechal me tendit Is main en s'ecriant : 'J'avais bien raison de dire 1 Votre Majeste irait. Voile ce qu'on appelle nn brave soldat.' " We need hardly add that the expedition was a complete success. No life was lost, either of friend or enemy. The prisoners taken were generously treated and sent back. Napoleon here appears in his most attractive light. It is one of those loopholes through which we may look to understand that personal power which had so much to do with the early triumphs of the Grand Army.
There is something sad, as well as interesting, in following out the decline of this personal power throughout the later campaigns. In the early part of Napoleon's wars, his presence was everything. While he looked on, his soldiers were in- vincible, inspired as much by belief in his star as in his war- like genius. The effect of his presence is easily seen by a lance at the contrast between a Spanish or Portuguese campaign under his Marshals, and his own campaigns of Austerlitz and Jena. And it was not only faith in his genius. Officers and men are said to have loved the Emperor with a personal devotion which is more difficult to understand till
we realise the magnetic influence so often possessed by selfish
T eople. Marbot could see mistakes now and then, for his owns ideas of war were very clearly defined, and did not always agree with those of his master. But he never fails in loyalty, or even in affection. Where Napoleon has been most blamed for heartlessness—for instance, in leaving the remnants of his army after the passage of the Beresina—Marbot defends him_ He was right, he says ; he was more needed in France. But though Marbot hints at nothing of the kind, there must have been many who felt at times the presence of an all-devouring selfishness and ambition in the master their love for whom was so wholesomely tinged with fear. Napoleon had not many such real friends as Duroc. Most of his Marshals felt increasingly that the armies they commanded were, after all, only food for powder ; that they were themselves only tools, to be thrown aside without thought or pity if they failed to work well. One of his greatest friends said of him: "Tout en l'aimant beaucoup je l'appelle tout ba.s le petit tigre." But Napoleon knew men. He knew human nature scienti- fically and coldly, like any psychologist of modern days. He said himself that he was fond of analysing, and he owed much of his power to the fact that he thoroughly well understood the many simpler characters who surrounded him. He stood alone, as such people do, no matter what their influence or how numerous their admirers. Madame de Stael, as we know, considered him almost outside the pale of humanity. Neither his faults nor his virtues, she said, were like those of other people. He could neither hate nor love : "II n'y a quo lui pour lui, tout le reste des creatures sont des cbiffres." Madame de- Stall, however, had her special reasons for hating him. Hateful or loveable, he must always be one of the most interesting characters of history ; and the new lights, generally human and favourable, which are shed upon him in these Memoirs, are by no means their least attractive feature. Showing the nature of his influence, they show also how with the decline of his star his empire could not fail to melt away.
We have no room for more than the barest sketch of the writer of these Memoirs, and his career. Jean Baptiste Antoine Marcellin de Marbot was born in 1782, at the- °Lathan of Larivibre in the Corrize. He was the son of a soldier. His father, Republican by conviction, was a, good man and a thorough patriot. He died at Genoa during the siege, where Marcellin was present, having entered the Army at seventeen. Most entertaining are his early ex- periences with the Bercheny Hussars, strange companions for a boy whose childhood had been in good part spent as the petted darling of a pensionnat de demoiselles. But he soon showed himself in dash and daring equal to the wildest among his comrades. In the course of Napoleon's wars, he was suc- cessively aide-de-camp to Bernadotte, Augerean, Murat, Lannes, and Massena. He was present at nearly all the battles and sieges of both the German and Spanish campaigns, distinguished himself at Eylau, and led the forlorn-hope at Ratisbon. In the Russian Campaign, he commanded his regi- ment, the 23rd Chasseurs. He was also at Waterloo. The Restoration sent him into exile ; but he afterwards returned to France, and became aide-de-camp to the Duke of Orleans. In these later years he fought at Antwerp and in Africa. He was wounded thirteen times, and his hairbreadth escapes were numberless. He died at last peacefully in 1854.
Mr. Butler's preface to his translation is too modest, and his qualifications are very much higher than either a "fair knowledge of French," or an acquaintance with French military terms. The Marbot Memoirs have been most fortunate in falling into his hands, and English readers are to be congratulated on a first-rate version of what certainly has some claim to be called "the most in- teresting book that has appeared in France for a generation.' If all translations were made in English equal to Mr. Butler's, from which the lively turn of the French is not absent, they would cease to be regarded with dread by educated people. Thebook is to a certain extent abridged—we do not quite understand why—but everything interesting is retained, though sometimes in a condensed form ; and its historical value is increased by notes, maps, and plans. Mr. Butler's slight corrections and criticisms, with his excellent though too short preface—he has, in fact, edited Marbot as well as translated him—make the English version almost a necessity to those readers, even if familiar with the original, who care for historical accuracy, and for a full and intelligent under- standing of the book.
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