Michel Ney

To me, Ney remains an elusive and enigmatic figure. As a primary school pupil, I read a biography of Napoleon written for children. Since Marshal Ney was the only general featured, I became fascinated by him. Though no biography of Ney exists in Japanese, his name appeared in works by Hugo, Stendhal and Hemingway…

Decades ago, I read an American author's biography of Ney aimed at relatively young readers. I recall reading the chapter covering Waterloo to his execution in tears. Though I have no background in English literature, it felt like reading a tragedy by Shakespeare.

In his memoirs, Pelet describes Masséna's personality as follows. However, he remains completely silent regarding 'Madame X', whom many historical narrators have recorded up to now. Furthermore, he maintains silence on Masséna's well-known penchant for looting.

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“Everyone irritated him (Masséna) and he complained about everything. The Prince (Masséna) had great finesse and understanding of men; he did not always take into account their good qualities nor judge them favorably. His attitude was the result of knowing too well the world and affairs. Much politeness and moderation were required to hide it, but he did not always do this.”

“Then there would be nothing of which the army was not capable, as there was no one who could excite it more than Masséna. No one possessed the instinct of a great general as he did.”

“He possessed it more than he realized himself—his warrior bearing, his head which resembled those of antiquity, and his quick and flashing eye. It was thought that after he received a gunshot in the eye his sight would be impaired. It appeared that only one eye had suffered much from the exterior alteration. Moreover, his sight was just as good as Thad ever known.*) With his bold look, his pleasing wit, his military Language, this bellicose genius in the midst of fire had everything to intame our soldiers, and his character, like his talent, was eminently French.”

Junot also appears several times in Pelet’s memoirs. It seems that it was not only Ney who was uncooperative with Masséna; the corps and division commanders under him also harbored dissatisfaction toward Masséna. Pelet suggests that Loison, a divisional general was operating in the shadows. Loison also appeared to be involved in suspicious activities regarding the “Roi Nicolas” affair surrounding Soult. It seems that Loison was quite a complex and cunning character. It is possible that Loison was also involved in encouraging Ney to loudly criticize Soult regarding the “Roi Nicolas” matter (“Mémoires du général Cte de Saint-Chamans : ancien aide de camp du Maréchal Soult, 1802-1832” p.157)

According to Pelet, Junot suffered a gunshot wound that pierced his nose during a reconnaissance mission. Looking at portraits of Junot, he is depicted as quite handsome, but it is known that he suffered multiple serious head injuries throughout his life. What kind of damage did a gunshot wound that pierced his nose inflict upon him? Pelet speculates whether these repeated head injuries might have contributed to Junot’s tragic death.

Additionally, Pelet recounts an experience of being invited to dine with Junot, where he was treated to a wonderfully delicious cornbread.

I am currently reading the memoirs of Pelet, who served as an aide-de-camp to Masséna during the Peninsular War. He appears to have been a highly educated, intellectual, and level-headed individual. Not only did he enjoy the deep trust of Masséna, but his writing is also remarkably vivid, capturing both the scenery of Portugal and the minutiae of daily military life, including logistics.

Although I do not hold an academic degree, I once had the opportunity to witness the editing process of a medieval colloquial Arabic manuscripts. I realized then that textual editing is far more than mere translation; it is a staggering, painstaking endeavor that requires exhaustive research into a vast array of contemporary and later sources to arrive at the most plausible interpretation of the original text.

I get the impression that this edition of Pelet’s memoirs underwent a similar scholarly process. The editor have meticulously consulted both British and French sources, carefully verifying the details and the credibility of Pelet’s accounts. After the Napoleonic Wars, many soldiers, officers, and their associates published memoirs, though some were arguably filled with fabrications, embellishments, or self-serving justifications. In that sense, Pelet’s memoirs, handled with the integrity of scholarly editing, are an invaluable historical source.

* Original text in Spanish: Native speakers, please visit the link.

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JOSE MANUEL CASAL

For two hundred years, Galicians have been naming their dogs after a Napoleonic Marshal.

August 15, 2019. Updated at 9:50 AM.

Although, unlike with humans, we lack official statistics on the most common names for Galician pets, anecdotal evidence from the fields ("testimonio a pie de leira") indicates that one of the most frequent names among Galician dogs is "Ney." Why Ney? The custom goes back a long way—to 1809, to be precise, when Napoleon’s Marshal Michel Ney suffered one of his most resounding defeats in Galicia. It happened in Pontesampaio (Pontevedra), on the banks of the Verdugo River, where Spanish guerrillas forced the proud French military man and his more than 10,000 men to flee.

The retreat of Ney from Galicia, during which he joined forces with Soult in Lugo, was not exactly exemplary; the Marshal razed everything in his path to avenge his humiliating failure in Pontevedra. He thus became one of the most hated and reviled figures in Galician popular memory, which decided to take revenge in its own way: by giving his name to the household dog. It was then, in July 1809, that Galicians began to walk "Ney" alongside our ankles. The custom took root and remains to this day; 210 years later, the palleiros (Galician curs) and not-so-palleiros across half of Galicia still respond to the name of Napoleon's Marshal.

"The episode of Pontesampaio itself was mythologized by the use of the 'wooden cannon,' a way of scorning the military capacity of the French. That the names of their Marshals, Soult and Ney, were used to name dogs is in the same vein," notes Professor Ramón Villares in his canonical History of Galicia. Because many "Soults" also lounge along the rural paths (corredoiras). They are our "barnyard marshals."

MARIA AURTENECHEA

A pet with a statue

Ney has also performed the miracle of uniting urban and rural Galicia, because there are Neys not only in the countryside. One of the most famous has a statue in the center of A Coruña. It was a Golden Retriever who died in 2014 and had won the hearts of the children who visited the Plaza de Lugo market—to the point that it was decided to dedicate a life-sized monument to him in the very spot where he used to run around.

But, of course, the name of the Marshal triumphs most in rural Galicia. The smaller the population, the more Neys there are. It is the country's way of remembering the heroes of Pontesampaio. The Gallic troops ran for their lives from Pontevedra, but, much to their dismay, they left us a name with a lot of history for our dogs (cadelos).

I have been reading the memoirs of Pelet, who served on Masséna’s staff during the Peninsular War, bit by bit. Marshal Ney is truly a “problematic orange cat” and also “mauvais coucheur”. It is remarkable that Masséna managed to put up with him for so long (though, for Pelet, who was devoted to Masséna, did not mention "Madame X," the mistress Masséna brought along with him, cannot be called a fair stance).

There is a passage in Pelet's memoirs that reads:

“The 6th Corps, formed since the Camp of Boulogne, was still under the command of the Marshal (Ney). With him at Elchingen, Jena, Gutstadt, Preuss-Eylau, and Friedland, it had covered itself with glory. Therefore it was very attached to its commander, who had always done whatever was necessary, sometimes at the expense of strict discipline, to retain the love and devotion of his soldiers.”

I believe it was Martin van Creveld who noted in “Supplying War: Logistics from Wallenstein to Patton” that Ney was lenient with his troops. I also recall reading that Bernadotte was similarly lax regarding discipline. This brings to mind an episode from “Seven Men of Gascony”, a historical novel by R.F. Delderfield—the same author who wrote that intriguing (though not necessarily accurate) book about the 26 Marshals.

In this (admittedly fictional) scene, following the Battle of Busaco, Ney visits the wagon of a vivandier where a wounded sergeant and his comrades are staying. A soldier protests to Ney, "We have no mules to pull the wagon, are you going to abandon us?" Ney then subtly suggests that they steal mules from the enemy and even teaches them how to disguise the branding marks.

Now, I shall continue reading Pelet's book.