Review by Ian Keogh

Although in 1812 Moscow wasn’t Russia’s primary city, Napoleon intended his troops marching into it after a three month slog through Europe to be a triumphant statement for the world’s greatest military strategist. As seen in Book 1, that’s not how it happened. Anyone of importance had evacuated, and once the French settled in they were constantly beset by burning buildings, and eventually had to evacuate themselves into surrounding towns. Frédéric Richaud and Iván Gil open Book 2 with Napoleon’s anger at that and at the lack of knowledge regarding the whereabouts of the Russian army. He’s nevertheless confident the Tsar will come to meet him to discuss peace, and angrily dismisses an advisor concerned that it’s September and the French troops aren’t equipped for a Russian winter. As the Tsar stalls, Napoleon’s left it too late to retreat without great cost, and his soldiers are already almost without food.

Patrick Rambaud’s original novel weaves fictional characters around the historical events and decisions. The actually military contacts with Russia are conflated into the experiences of Captain D’Herbigny and his men, conquerors in name, but hungry and restless in a city large areas of which are now burnt and uninhabitable. Whereas previously he was shown as militarily pragmatic, here he seems all too easily fooled by what most would consider the obvious trap of a rickety bridge across a river. As he did in The Battle, Rambaud counterpoints the military action with a love story, this time that of a noble’s son Sebastian Roque with an actress, but it’s fleetingly considered, Roque’s presence often only necessary to hear the complaints of ordinary people.

Once again Gil renders everything on a sumptuous scale. The sample art shows a foolish engagement with a Russian brigade, actually only a passing note of Napoleon’s frustration with his leaders, yet Gil’s effort is phenomenal. He rarely closes in beyond three-quarter figures, and in scenes allowing for it he has a painter’s sense of composition.

The second half of this book begins the retreat from Moscow and the interest is considerably raised. There’s the disturbing insight of troops preferring to discard their wounded comrades than the treasures they’ve looted, Napoleon’s practicality in private, and the horrific method by which a soldier survived an earlier battle. This is among acts of atrocity committed in desperation with Russians picking off stragglers at their leisure even before the true depths of the Russian winter arrive. It’s all stunningly illustrated by Gil.

With the subplots almost discarded Berezina becomes compelling historical fiction, and there’s worse to come in Book 3.