Army
and Philip Haythornthwaite in
The Armies of Wellington
. Andrew Roberts was not the first author to compare Wellington and his greatest adversary but his
Napoleon and Wellington
brought a wealth of fresh interpretation to what might have been a familiar topic. Both men were outsiders, born on islands; both lost their father at an early age, spoke French as their second language, had irregular (and strangely intertwined) private lives, and changed their surnames. Philip Guedalla was a fashionable historian in the 1930s but has long since fallen from favour, though his
The Two Marshals
set me off on a love affair with French military history from which I have never fully recovered. On re-reading his
The Duke
I was struck by its sheer elegance: my own generation has produced many historians who are defter with their footnotes, but few who write as well.
Guedalla ends his book where I ended my filming, in St Paul’s Cathedral, where Wellington lies buried. At his funeral a herald read out a long and sonorous list of his titles:
Duke of Wellington, Marquis of Wellington, Marquis of Douro, Earl of Wellington in Somerset, Viscount Wellington of Talavera, Baron Douro of Wellesley, Prince of Waterloo in the Netherlands, Duke of Ciudad Rodrigo in Spain, Duke of Brunoy in France, Duke of Vitoria, Marques of Torres Vedras, Count of Vimiero in Portugal, a Grandee of the First Class in Spain, a Privy Councillor, Commander-in-Chief of the British Army, Colonel of the Grenadier Guards … the Lord High Constable of England, the Constable of the Tower, Warden of the Cinque Ports, Chancellor of the Cinque Ports, Admiral of the Cinque Ports, Lord-Lieutenant of Hampshire, Lord-Lieutenant of the Tower Hamlets, Ranger of St James’s Park, Ranger of Hyde Park, Chancellor of the University of Oxford … 10
It was a far cry from his birth in Ireland, younger son of a musical Irish peer, and a shy and dreamy boyhood in which the violin figured more prominently than the musket. While Wellington’s story may not be precisely one of rags to riches, it is certainly one of obscurity to fame, and of a confident maturity confounding the scanty hopes of youth. As I stood by his monument in St Paul’s, so large that the statue on top almost grazes the ceiling, I was again struck by the sheer scale of the man. Whatever we may think of him, he did bestride the Britain of his age like the proverbial colossus. At the end of almost a year of filming and writing it was, I think, this feeling of size and strength that stayed with me. Almost despite myself, I realised that my youthful admiration had surged back, as strong as ever, to override all those reservations. Wellington may not always have been good: but he was unquestionably great. As I walked back towards the great west doors of the cathedral, with filming completed and another little fellowship ended, I could not escape his giant shadow. It hangs over me still.
INDEX
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Abercromby, Major General Sir Ralph 30–1
Aberdeen, Earl of 251, 283, 299
Adam’s brigade 245, 249
Ahmednuggur, siege of (1803) 73–4
Alava, General Miguel de 166, 175, 192, 194, 265–6, 267
Albemarle, Lord 290
Albert, Prince Consort 298, 299
Wellington to 293
Albuera, battle of (1811) 151–3, 154
Alexander I, Tsar 20, 100, 208, 221
Almeida fortress (1810) 146, 148, 149, 153
Alten, Lt General Sir Charles 191, 209, 210, 231, 246
American War of 1812 199, 206
American War of Independence 9–10, 11, 23
Angers: Royal Academy of Equitation 19
Anglesey, Marquess of
see
Uxbridge, Lord
Angoulême, Duc d’ 190–1, 198
Angoulême, Duchesse d’ 204
Apsley House, London 20, 84, 271–2, 283, 285, 287, 288, 300
Arbuthnot, Charles 271, 301
Arbuthnot, Harriet 271, 288
Wellington to 96, 261–2, 263, 267, 277, 280
Argaum,