From Barnes & Noble
George Scovill, a simple engraver's apprentice, would become the greatest code breaker of his time when serving as an officer in the Duke of Wellington's army. How did a man of common birth rise to such an important position in a military that more commonly rewarded the nobility? What special talents did Scovill possess that ultimately made him indispensable to Wellington? And why has his crucial role in Napoleon's downfall been neglected for so long? British journalist and ex-officer Mark Urban has the answers.
Publishers Weekly
Alan Turing wasn't the only Brit with a genius for code cracking. The Man Who Broke Napoleon's Codes introduces readers to George Scovell, an engraver's apprentice who stumbled into a job as the Duke of Wellington's decoder and managed to unravel Bonaparte's legendary Great Paris Cipher, which contained 1,400 coded elements. Mark Urban, a BBC correspondent, chronicles Wellington's campaigns against the French from the battle of Corunna in 1809 to the 1815 victory at Waterloo, showing how Scovell's decoding of enemy communiqu s was pivotal to Napoleon's defeat. (Mar.) Copyright 2001 Cahners Business Information.
Library Journal
In an extremely useful addition to the literature concerning the British army's campaigns in Spain and Portugal during the Napoleonic Wars, Urban rescues from obscurity the life and career of Maj. Gen. Sir George Scovell. One of Lord Wellington's staff officers, Scovell, an engraver's apprentice prior to purchasing an army commission, got involved with the attempt to break the French army's enciphered dispatches. Far more intelligent than the average high-born officer, Scovell was also a linguistic genius who was able to break the simpler codes. As the French switched to a more complicated code, the stage was set for the race against time to break the code and enable Wellington to gain the victory in the Iberian Peninsula. Urban, a well-known BBC correspondent and also a former British army officer, has combined the fast-paced narrative of a spy novel with colorful period detail describing the inner workings of an army staff at war. Recommended for all libraries. David Lee Poremba, Detroit P.L. Copyright 2001 Cahners Business Information.
Kirkus Reviews
A well-known BBC correspondent takes the career of Lt. Col. George Scovell, who cracked a complicated French cipher during the Peninsular Campaign of 1807-14, as an excuse to retell the rousing story of Wellington's sanguinary preparation for the great test of Waterloo. Urban, a former Army officer with a passion for the history of warfare, has added an important footnote to accounts of the Napoleonic Wars by giving Scovell, formerly an engraver's apprentice, proper credit for his critical role in the British victories in Spain and Portugal. But the book's title greatly misrepresents Urban's focus. Yes, Scovell was accommodating enough to have left behind a journal and substantial notes, but these hardly suffice to fashion a biography. Instead, Scovell is a Zelig-like figure who appears at the verge of history's grand photographs but is rarely front and center, a position invariably occupied either by Wellington (whom Urban clearly admires) or by his redoubtable adversaries in the field (including Napoleon himself in the short penultimate chapter on Waterloo). We begin in 1809 as the then-Capt. Scovell is serving lookout duty. His skills as a linguist and a fastidious organizer of men and materiel soon earn him promotions and the stern favor of Wellington, a man not noted for his warmth. We learn a little about Scovell's wife, Mary (there is not much to learn), whom he does not see at all for one three-year period. Scovell organizes local guides and scouts (a daunting task) and begins to dabble with French ciphers, discovering in the process his own remarkable talent for code-breaking. Soon he is at work on the Great Paris Cipher, an extraordinarily difficult French code that occupies himfor many months; indeed, it is not until near the end of the campaign that he understands it all. With partial foreknowledge of French intentions, Wellington has a decided advantage. Scovell's post-Napoleonic career of 36 years consumes only a chapter. Galloping history, despite the misleading title. (7 maps; 8 pp. b&w photographs, not seen)