The Napoleonic Era.
There is a fascination which all of us feel, I suppose, both in the French Revolution and in the looming figure of Napoleon. It is natural enough, and needs no apology, but does need some curbing. I should say, judging from my own experience, when one must keep sternly in mind that English history is after all the prescribed route one is pursuing, and to wander from it is as reprehensible as for the tourist to deviate a hair’s breadth from his itinerary. The temptation to digress is only heightened by the fact that English matters were quite nearly concerned in the former, and might have been said to have been thoroughly involved in the career of Napoleon. Then, too, none of the class know anything worth speaking of about European history, and here for once, at least, the various streams of national histories melt into one river, and Europe becomes a vast theater for a single drama. All very plausible, but nevertheless we must not dwell on the alluring prospect too long or we shall be lost. The “Continental System,” with its direct bearing upon England, is less interesting but perfectly legitimate food for the English historian or historée. A fairly full account of it taken from an article by Professor Sloane is quoted pp. 520 to 537 of Beard’s Introduction. Much is of course available on the Peninsular campaign and Waterloo, not to mention Aboukir Bay and Trafalgar. Creasy’s account of Waterloo in the “Fifteen Decisive Battles” is of course good; but for a bit of reading to the class for purposes of ignition, nothing that I know of can equal Victor Hugo’s fiction (somewhat adorning fact!) in Les Miserables.
A fascinating book on this period if one can get hold of it (it is expensive, alas, so I advise borrowing) is Lord Broughton’s “Recollections of a Long Life,”[3] which covers a considerable stretch of time, for a single life, from 1786 to 1822, and is delightfully intimate and realistic. I refrain from suggesting anything concerning Napoleon having in mind the afore-mentioned temptation. Nelson and Wellington, on the other hand, deserve portraits. The later appearance of the “great Duke,” when he made so poor a hand at statesmanship is one of the not infrequent examples of the soldier out of place in the councils of state. The extracts pp. 656 to 662 of Cheyney’s Readings are interesting in this connection.