Napoleon returned to Paris in 1814 pledged to the concept of a liberal Empire. From the paradoxical experience of the Hundred Days, writes Harold Kurtz, sprang both the legend and reality of Bonapartism.
Though some recent historians have been kind to the favourite, writes Douglas Hilt, during his lifetime Manuel Godoy was generally denounced as an intriguing parvenu.
The crossing of the Beresina alone cost Napoleon more than 20,000 men. But, writes Alan Collis, some fortunate survivors of the terrible retreat from Moscow struggled home to tell the tale.
Between 1798 and 1800, writes Geoffrey Bennett, a Russian fleet co-operated with the British in the Mediterranean.
Wellington, writes Richard Blanco, was one of the first British commanders to recognise the importance of the medical corps.
When Napoleon III withdrew his troops from Rome, writes John Quinlan, the unification of Italy was at last accomplished.
General Sir Robert Wilson’s impressions in 1807 and 1812; a paper delivered by D.G. Chandler at the Congress of Historical Sciences, Moscow, 1970.
“How different were our feelings” wrote a Scottish sergeant, “from many of our countrymen at home, whose ideas of the French character were drawn from servile newspapers and caricatures in print shops.”
For more than four years after the death of Nelson, Admiral Collingwood held naval command from the southern tip of Portugal to the Dardanelles. Piers Mackay writes how, in that time, Collingwood became the prime and sole Minister of England, acting upon the sea.
Although Canning resigned in 1809, writes Cedric Collyer, the fruits of his foreign policy, and the confirmation of the principles on which it rested, were already apparent by 1812 in the changing face and prospects of the war.