Christopher Duffy (born 1936) is a British military historian. Duffy read history at Balliol College, Oxford, where he graduated in 1961 with the PhD. Afterwards, he taught military history at the Royal Military Academy Sandhurst and the college of the British General Staff. He was secretary-general of the British Commission for Military History and vice-president of the History Society of Ireland. From 1996 to 2001, he was research professor at the De Montfort University, Leicester. Today he lives and works as a freelance author.
Duffy's special interest is the military history of the European modern age, in particular the history of the German, Prussian and Austrian armed forces. He is most famous for his writings about the Seven Years' War and especially Frederick the Great, which he called self-ironically "a product of the centuries-old British obsession with that most un-British of creatures". Duffy is fluent in six languages and has published some twenty books about military history topics, whereof several were translated into German.
Christopher Duffy’s Borodino: And the War of 1812 provides a decent overview of Napoleon’s Russian campaign. At only 175 pages of narrative, don’t expect a detailed account of the campaign. That being said, this book does have some strong characteristics to recommend it.
Duffy begins with a few introductory chapters of varying quality. There is a very brief rundown of the events which led to Napoleon’s decision to invade Russia. Unfortunately, this section is filled with Duffy’s personal anti-Napeolon bias. Once he moves onto a summary of the tactics of Napoleonic warfare, Duffy is in his element. This chapter contained much information of interest to both the novice and experienced reader of the Napoleonic wars. For instance, Duffy dispels any illusions about the “myth of the bayonet” with this excerpt,
"Although every nation cherished a myth of its superiority in hand-to-hand fighting, it was very rare indeed for intact formations to cross bayonets in the open field: when we hear of 'bayonet charges' we should imagine a line of column advancing at a steady pace with levelled bayonets against an enemy so badly shot-up as to be wavering or already in flight. A combat around fortifications or a battery was another matter, for the defenders were often strongly inclined to stay put (if only because they could not get out), and the attackers would be obliged to winkle them out."
Duffy provides similarly strong summaries of the French and Russian armies. In fact, one of the advantages of this book how the author gave equal attention to the French and Russian perspectives. In particular, I appreciated his fair assessment of Barclay de Tolly, a man who has been sorely served throughout history.
The main strength of this book, however, is the focus given to the battle of Borodino itself. The coverage on the campaign before and after the battle is skeletal at best, and, consequently, I would recommend readers to look elsewhere for a detailed account of the campaign. Duffy provides a number of simple, yet clear maps which help the reader to understand the battlefield’s terrain and the placements of the troops. The coverage of the battle itself was well done, with Duffy augmenting the details of troop movements and other such minutiae with plenty of first hand accounts, which give the reader just a taste of the devastation that was the Battle of Borodino.
I had a few quibbles with the book. For example, I felt Duffy should have included more references and footnotes. I also disagreed with his assessment of Bennigsen and of Kutuzov, particularly over the latter’s role after Borodino. Asides, from these small complaints, I was satisfied with this account of Borodino. As mentioned above, there are much better accounts of the entire campaign of 1812, but if you’re interested in learning in-depth about the battle of Borodino, I would easily recommend this book.
I’ll end this review with an excerpt from page 137,
“On the 8th [the day after the battle] Prince Eugene and his staff were in the Raevsky Redoubt, warming themselves around a fire which they fed with the remains of a Russian gun carriage; there were bodies all around, but suddenly they saw a young Russian raise himself up among the corpses, rub his eyes, look about him in a daze, then get slowly to his feet and walk away to freedom. Nobody thought of stopping him.”
This book is both a great introduction to those new to the grandest battle of the Napoleonic era, Borodino, and a clear, concise reference for those more experienced readers of military history. The maps are a highlight in this book, although 70's pencil style, which is unusual in historical books in general. They are clear, relevant to text, informative and many in quantity, all those aspects that most contemporary publishers overlook. Highly recommend this book for those interested in the Russian campaign of 1812 and general history readers.
Christopher Duffy, whose book on Austerlitz I reviewed most recently, takes the epic tale of the 1812 Franco/European-Russian War and condenses it into a very tight, but very informative, and excellent, small volume. Focusing on the Battle of Borodino, Duffy presents the story as a countdown, or march to, the bloody destiny of that crossroads town, leading to Moscow. While Duffy covers the prelude to the war, this volume is so slim, not quite 200 full pages, that it's very hard to get a good grasp on such a complex topic, which is my only gripe with this book. And, one should be made aware, that Duffy doesn't hide his disdain for Napoleon, but seeing as how Duffy is highly favorable to the Russians, and presents them in a light where they're not merely brutish automatons, he more than makes up for his sniping at the French Emperor. Most Western academics take a very condescending view towards the Russians, especially the pre-Soviet Russians, so Duffy's enthusiasm for them is an honest breath of fresh air. However, this isn't a look at politics, or culture, this is a military tale. And over half of it is focused on a two to three day period. The Battle of Borodino was the bloodiest single day of fighting not just in the Napoleonic/Coalition Wars, but in world history period until the first day of the Somme in 1916 (and honestly, it's debatable as to who's going to take that nefarious trophy). So it's no surprise that Duffy focuses on it. After all, the entire campaign hinges upon it. In brief, the Russians, badly outnumbered at the onset of the war, fought a rearguard action, falling back before the advancing Imperial forces, scorching the earth as they go. Despite being outnumbered, there's a part of me that can't help but criticize the Russians for continuously falling back, and not at least attempting to prevent their own people from feeling the hard hand of war. My own thoughts veer that way not merely out of an emotional relationship with those unlucky peasants and town folk caught in the path of war, but the knowledge that the Imperial Russian Army was the best of Napoleon's mainline opponents. In all of these rearguard actions, the Russians inflicted just as many, often more, losses than they themselves took. Only a handful of actions were clear cut Imperial victories, and all of them were expensively purchased with the blood of their men. And even though Napoleon was seeking a decisive battle well before Minsk, let alone Smolensk or even Moscow, it's not a foregone conclusion, in my mind, that with an Army less than half composed of Frenchman, that The Emperor was destined to win said engagement. Nonetheless, the campaign went as it did, and the constant retreating was eroding the morale, and the cohesion, of the Russian forces. Officers like Prince Petr Bagration were champing at the bit for a stand up fight, and so were the rank and file. Even the Czar, who heretofore had denied a stand up fight, was forced to acquiesce or see the Army dissolve. Napoleon himself was seeing his own, constantly shrinking, Army rapidly lose cohesion and discipline on the seemingly never ending marches in the harsh landscape of Russia. (Summers there can be intensely brutal, rivaling summer weather in the American Southeast, ole Dixie, and the Imperial forces lose more men and horses in the summer, than they do in the winter, the myth notwithstanding). Both are now seeking a decisive battle, for their own reasons. And neither get it. Borodino is a poorly fought battle on both sides. Alongside Waterloo, it is Napoleon's worst performance in a major engagement. The Imperial forces merely launch successive, head on, offensives against dug in, well positioned, Russian forces. The Russians, make barely any attempt at maneuver whatsoever, and despite the mythology (mostly true, however) of Russia being one of the great artillery cultures in the military world, they badly misuse their artillery in this battle. Borodino is simply a slugging match between two heavyweights. And it's also a largely indecisive bloodbath. The massacre that was the battle sees between 30-35,000 Imperial, and 40-45,000 Russian casualties, in a single day of horrific slaughter. Leipzig, in 1813, is known as The Battle of the Nations, and yet so should Borodino. Men from all over Europe converge there, and thousands are blasted or bludgeoned into the afterlife there. Perhaps the graveyard of the nations? The Russians withdraw afterwards, though in surprisingly good order. The Imperial forces, and Napoleon himself, are utterly shocked by what they had witnessed. And in riding around the field the next day, Napoleon is overwhelmed by the carnage, and displays some genuine remorse over the loss of life. The Emperor and his entourage, his Mameluke bodyguard unit, his Staff, several of his Marshals and theirs, are surveying the field, and approach a position formerly held by a Russian artillery company. One of his Marshal's horses steps on a still alive, and suffering, Russian officer. Napoleon snaps at the man to watch his step, and calls for his personal bodyguard, Roustam, to dismount and see to the man's needs, while the Marshal snidely laughs and says: but it's just a Russian. In a fury, Napoleon turns to him and gives him a very public dressing down. When Roustam tells him the young Russian man wants water, Napoleon hands him down his own canteen. Napoleon, the road to Moscow now clear, marches the survivors of his battered force there, and the rest of the story should be familiar to most of you. Duffy spends a couple of chapters outlining the end of the campaign, and it's consequences, but the meat of the book is the Battle of Borodino itself. And that makes this slim volume such a valuable work to own. Most histories of the great campaign discuss Borofino in a few pages, or a single chapter. Here, a little over half the book is the planning, preparing, and fighting itself, and it is very well written, too. This can still stand, despite being a nearly fifty year old book, as the best introduction to the topic. Highly recommended.
An excellent introduction to, not only the War of 1812, but also how war was fought in the era of Napoleon. As always, Duffy narrates the events, battles and tactics with a sure hand. He also has interesting observations on the military leaders that grace this version of War and Peace. Napoleon took a terrible chance when he invaded Russia, it was the beginning of his downfall. The maps are useful and well-drawn.
Christopher Duffy's Borodino and the War of 1812 is a brief, yet complete, chronicle of Napoleon's invasion of Russia in 1812 and the momentous clash of armies at Borodino. Duffy's book was published in 1972 and his analysis has been supplanted by numerous subsequent accounts. At only 175 pages of text, Borodino and the War of 1812 is a good introduction for readers new to the subject and certainly worthy of Three Stars.
As Churchill said, wars are not won by retreats. This is a readable and fairly brief account of the Russo-French war of 1812 (not to be confused, obviously, with the Anglo-American one). It has one great flaw: against all common sense, it maintains that Borodino was a Russian victory. They suffered far the heavier casualties and were forced to retreat leaving their capital at the enemy's mercy. To call that victory is simply a misuse of hindsight: the French got no benefit from their occupation of Moscow, and ended up in ignominious retreat. But if we are to judge the results of individual battles, it can only be done by seeing which side was enabled to carry out their intentions as a result of the encounter. Whether those intentions are themselves sensible is another question entirely.
The Russian forces tried and failed to stop Napoleon, it's as simple as that. The French ended up losing the war not because of anything their enemies did, but because - in the conditions of the time - it just wasn't winnable, as long as Russian opposition continued (and however ineffectual it might be). Even some 130 years later, with their motorised forces and ten times the men, the Germans found it beyond their strength.
I think perceptions of Borodino have been coloured by Tolstoy's War and Peace. In that book the great author let his patriotism get the better of his good sense, and has set the tone for historians since. Yet he also stated the correct guiding principle for battles: whoever retreats from the battlefield has lost. And so - contrary to popular mythology - the Boers did not win in South Africa, or the Germans at Jutland, or the Americans in Vietnam - any more than in that other War of 1812.
As for the Franco-Russian war: maybe Churchill was wrong, and wars can be won by retreats - as long as you are able to retreat so far that the enemy outruns their supplies.
Seemed a perfectly adequate and unbiased account of the events surrounding Borodino, with some interesting military tactical context thrown in alongside a rough approximation of the equipment and state of the two opposing French and Russian armies. As the author himself states, the book is largely a stringing together of contemporary accounts - albeit nicely fleshed out with the author’s own clearly well-informed knowledge of the period.
One relatively unimportant mistake to point out: the final chapter states that in Tolstoy’s War and Peace, Nikolai Rostov is killed during Napoleon’s eventual retreat from Moscow. As I remember it, and as many others may - it being a particularly emotional passage in the book - it is Nikolai’s much younger brother who is killed in a hare-brained assault on the fleeing French. A minor gripe. However whilst the book is perfectly suited for a nice overview of the battle, it’s pretty bang-average.