#battle of friedland

[illustratus]

1807, Friedland by Jean-Louis-Ernest Meissonier

[josefavomjaaga]

For context: I understand Eugène was, despite being locked away with office work in Italy, nominally still the colonel of the regiment of chasseurs à cheval of the guard. And I had already known that giving up on "his" regiment had been very hard for him. But Guyot reporting to him about stuff like how many clothes the soldiers had received is kinda cute. It also shows that his former subordinates had not completely forgotten him.

I'm not sure why Eugène apparently felt the need to encourage Guyot or why Guyot sounds so subdued and rather insecure in his new position. Guyot had only recently taken over from general Dahlmann, however, after Dahlmann had been killed at the battle of Eylau.

[empirearchives]

Cuirassiers of the First Empire, Studies for the Battle of Friedland

The Battle of Friedland was fought on 14 June 1807 as part of the War of the Fourth Coalition.

The battlefield is located in modern-day Kaliningrad Oblast.

Cuirassiers du Premier Empire, Études pour la Bataille de Friedland - Ernest Meissonier

[paristandard]

still on my silmarillion kick and back on my ‘recreating napoleon paintings’ kick here’s the whole Formenos crew probably right after taking the Oath

[yasutheculprit]

literally have to defend my thesis in two days from uhh napoleonic forces ig but girl help i have no fucking time to be getting into golden kamuy again

[whencyclopedia]

Chesapeake-Leopard Affair

The Chesapeake-Leopard affair was an incident that took place off the coast of Norfolk, Virginia, on 22 June 1807 when the British warship HMS Leopard fired on and boarded an American frigate USS Chesapeake while searching for deserters from the Royal Navy. The incident was one of the events that led to the War of 1812.

Background

In 1807, as the United States was still struggling to find its footing as an independent nation, the Napoleonic Wars were raging in Europe. Napoleon Bonaparte, having crowned himself Emperor of the French three years before, found himself opposed by a series of ever-shifting coalitions of European nations bankrolled by Great Britain. On land, Napoleon's armies had proved dominant; with such great victories as the Battle of Austerlitz (2 December 1805) and the Battle of Friedland (14 June 1807), he had conquered Central Europe and was now exerting influence throughout most of the continent. Britain, meanwhile, had smashed French naval power at the Battle of Trafalgar (21 October 1805) and was afterwards the undisputed master of the waves. This dichotomy left the neutral United States in a precarious position: to deal with one empire meant to upset the other. President Thomas Jefferson, nervously keeping tabs on the developments in Europe, voiced the concerns of many of his countrymen when he wrote: "What an awful spectacle does the world exhibit in this instant, one man bestriding the continent of Europe like a Colossus, and another roaming unbridled on the ocean" (Wood, 622).

But even as the war created anxiety in America, so, too, did it open the door of opportunity. American merchants were quick to capitalize on the gap in international trade caused by the fighting; with France and Spain no longer able to send merchant ships to their colonies in the West Indies, these colonies reluctantly opened their ports to American ships instead. The Americans would then re-export these Caribbean goods to European markets, making a fortune in the process. In 1807, the combined value of American imports and exports reached $243 million, turning the United States into the largest neutral carrier of goods in the world. When Britain complained that the United States' middleman trade strategy violated their so-called Rule of 1756 – which prevented nations from trading in times of war with ports that had been closed to them in times of peace – the Americans circumvented the rule by importing the Caribbean goods to the United States before re-exporting them to Europe, technically turning them into neutral cargo in the process.

American shipping would become threatened, however, as the Franco-British rivalry reached its stalemate. Unable to directly attack the British Isles due to the power of the Royal Navy, Napoleon decided to instead force Britain's submission by paralyzing its economy. In November 1806, he issued the Berlin Decree, the first block in his Continental System, in which he issued a continent-wide embargo on British trade. Any ship carrying British goods was liable for seizure, including those belonging to neutral countries. Britain retaliated with several orders-in-council, which placed a blockade on all ports that complied with Napoleon's embargo, stipulating that all nations who wished to trade at these ports had to first stop in England to pay transit duties. This, of course, left the American merchants in a difficult situation, as they could no longer trade at any European port without running afoul of either the French or the British. Before long, the warring empires were each seizing neutral American ships; between 1803 and 1812, France seized 558 American vessels, while the British captured 917.

Continue reading...

[liberty1776]

When I first saw this detailed painting at the Met. In New York city, I was surprised it was not much larger.

“1807, Friedland” gained notoriety in 1876 when the American department store magnate Alexander T. Stewart (1803–1876) purchased it from the artist, sight unseen, for an astronomical sum. Judge Henry Hilton acquired the work at Stewart’s estate sale and in 1887 bequeathed it to the Metropolitan Museum.

Friedland by Eric Meissonier (ca. 1875). This painting took fourteen years to complete since the artist kept researching and painting over parts of it. There’s an interesting article describing the lengths he went to research every particle of this painting (e.g., how the grass would look). These images are from the article, there are more of them.

link

[thebrickinbrick]

The Extreme Edge

MARIUS had reached the Halles.

There everything was still calmer, more obscure and more motionless than in the neighboring streets. One would have said that the glacial peace of the sepulchre had sprung forth from the earth and had spread over the heavens.Nevertheless, a red glow brought out against this black background the lofty roofs of the houses which barred the Rue de la Chanvrerie on the Saint-Eustache side. It was the reflection of the torch which was burning in the Corinthe barricade. Marius directed his steps towards that red light. It had drawn him to the Marché-aux-Poirées, and he caught a glimpse of the dark mouth of the Rue des Prêcheurs. He entered it. The insurgents' sentinel, who was guarding the other end, did not see him. He felt that he was very close to that which he had come in search of, and he walked on tiptoe. In this manner he reached the elbow of that short section of the Rue Mondétour which was, as the reader will remember, the only communication which Enjolras had preserved with the outside world. At the corner of the last house, on his left, he thrust his head forward, and looked into the fragment of the Rue Mondétour.

A little beyond the angle of the lane and the Rue de la Chanvrerie which cast a broad curtain of shadow, in which he was himself engulfed, he perceived some light on the pavement, a bit of the wine-shop, and beyond, a flickering lamp within a sort of shapeless wall, and men crouching down with guns on their knees. All this was ten fathoms distant from him. It was the interior of the barricade.The houses which bordered the lane on the right concealed the rest of the wine-shop, the large barricade, and the flag from him.

Marius had but a step more to take.

Then the unhappy young man seated himself on a post, folded his arms, and fell to thinking about his father.

He thought of that heroic Colonel Pontmercy, who had been so proud a soldier, who had guarded the frontier of France under the Republic, and had touched the frontier of Asia under Napoleon, who had beheld Genoa, Alexandria, Milan, Turin, Madrid, Vienna, Dresden, Berlin, Moscow, who had left on all the victorious battle-fields of Europe drops of that same blood, which he, Marius, had in his veins, who had grown gray before his time in discipline and command, who had lived with his sword. belt buckled, his epaulets falling on his breast, his cockade blackened with powder, his brow furrowed with his helmet, in barracks, in camp, in the bivouac, in ambulances, and who, at the expiration of twenty years, had returned from the great wars with a scarred cheek, a smiling countenance, tranquil, admirable, pure as a child, having done everything for France and nothing against her.

He said to himself that his day had also come now, that his hour had struck, that following his father, he too was about to show himself brave, intrepid, bold, to run to meet the bullets, to offer his breast to bayonets, to shed his blood, to seek the enemy, to seek death, that he was about to wage war in his turn and descend to the field of battle, and that the field of battle upon which he was to descend was the street, and that the war in which he was about to engage was civil war!

He beheld civil war laid open like a gulf before him, and into this he was about to fall. Then he shuddered.

He thought of his father's sword, which his grandfather had sold to a second-hand dealer, and which he had so mournfully regretted. He said to himself that that chaste and valiant sword had done well to escape from him, and to depart in wrath into the gloom; that if it had thus fled, it was because it was intelligent and because it had foreseen the future; that it had had a presentiment of this rebellion, the war of the gutters, the war of the pavements, fusillades through cellar-windows, blows given and received in the rear; it was because, coming from Marengo and Friedland, it did not wish to go to the Rue de la Chanvrerie; it was because, after what it had done with the father, it did not wish to do this for the son! He told himself that if that sword were there, if after taking possession of it at his father's pillow, he had dared to take it and carry it off for this combat of darkness between Frenchmen in the streets, it would assuredly have scorched his hands and burst out aflame before his eyes, like the sword of the angel! He told himself that it was fortunate thatit was not there and that it had disappeared, that that was well, that that was just, that his grandfather had been the true guar dian of his father's glory, and that it was far better that the colonel's sword should be sold at auction, sold to the old-clothes man, thrown among the old junk, than that it should, to-day, wound the side of his country.

And then he fell to weeping bitterly.

This was horrible. But what was he to do! Live without Cosette he could not. Since she was gone, he must needs lie. Had he not given her his word of honor that he would die? She had gone knowing that; this meant that it pleased her that Marius should die. And then, it was clear that she no 'onger loved him, since she had departed thus without warning, without a word, without a letter, although she knew his address! What was the good of living, and why should he live now? And then, what! should he retreat after going so far! should he flee from danger after having approached it! should he slip away after having come and peeped into the barricade! slip away, all in a tremble, saying: "After all, I have had enough of it as it is. I have seen it, that suffices, this is civil war, and I shall take my leave!" Should he abandon his friends who were expecting him! Who were in need of him possibly! who were a mere handful against an army! Should he be untrue at once to his love, to country, to his word! Should he give to his cowardice the pretext of patriotism! But this was impossible, and if the phantom of his father was there in the gloom, and beheld him retreating, he would beat him on the loins with the flat of his sword, and shout to him: "March on, you poltroon!"

Thus a prey to the conflicting movements of his thoughts, he dropped his head.

All at once he raised it. A sort of splendid rectification had just been effected in his mind. There is a widening of the sphere of thought which is peculiar to the vicinity of the grave; it makes one see clearly to be near death. The vision of the action into which he felt that he was, perhaps, on the point of entering, appeared to him no more as lamentable, but as superb. The war of the street was suddenly transfigured by some unfathomable inward working of his soul, before the eye of his thought. All the tumultuous interrogation points of revery recurred to him in throngs, but without troubling him. He left none of them unanswered.

Let us see, why should his father be indignant? Are there not cases where insurrection rises to the dignity of duty? What was there that was degrading for the son of Colonel Pontmercy in the combat which was about to begin? It is no longer Montmirail nor Champaubert; it is something quite different. The question is no longer one of sacred territory, but of a holy idea. The country wails, that may be, but humanity applauds. But is it true that the country does wail? France bleeds, but liberty smiles; and in the presence of liberty's smile, France forgets her wound. And then if we look at things from a still more lofty point of view, why do we speak of civil war?

Civil war - what does that mean? Is there a foreign war? Is not all war between men war between brothers? War is qualified only by its object. There is no such thing as foreign or civil war; there is only just and unjust war. Until that day when the grand human agreement is concluded, war, that at least which is the effort of the future, which is hastening on against the past, which is lagging in the rear, may be necessary. What have we to reproach that war with? War does not become a disgrace, the sword does not become a disgrace, except when it is used for assassinating the right, progress, reason, civilization, truth. Then war, whether foreign or civil, is iniquitous; it is called crime. Outside the pale of that holy thing, justice, by what right does one form of man despise another? By what right should the sword of Washington disown the pike of Camille Desmoulins? Leonidas against the stranger, Timoleon against the tyrant, which is the greater? the one is the defender, the other the liberator. Shall we brand every appeal to arms within a city's limits without taking the object into a consideration? Then note the infamy of Brutus, Marcel, Arnould von Blankenheim, Coligny. Hedgerow war? War of the streets? Why not? That was the war of Ambiorix, of Artevelde, of Marnix, of Pelagius. But Ambiorix fought against Rome, Artevelde against France, Marnix against Spain, Pelagius against the Moors; all against the foreigner. Well, the monarchy is a foreigner; oppression is a stranger; the right divine is a stranger. Despotism violates the moral frontier, an invasion violates the geographical frontier. Driving out the tyrant or driving out the English, in both cases, regaining possession of one's own territory. There comes an hour when protestation no longer suffices; after philosophy, action is required; live force finishes what the idea has sketched out; Prometheus chained begins, Aristogeiton ends; the encyclopedia enlightens souls, the 10th of August electrifies them. After Eschylus, Thrasybulus; after Diderot, Danton. Multitudes have a tendency to accept the master. Their mass bears witness to apathy. A crowd is easily led as a whole to obedience. Men must be stirred up, pushed on, treated roughly by the very benefit of their deliverance, their eyes must be wounded by the true, light must be hurled at them in terrible handfuls.

They must be a little thunderstruck themselves at their own well-being; this dazzling awakens them. Hence the necessity of tocsins and wars. Great combatants must rise, must enlighten nations with audacity, and shake up that sad humanity which is covered with gloom by the right divine, Cæsarian glory, force, fanaticism, irresponsible power, and absolute majesty; a rabble stupidly occupied in the contemplation, in their twilight splendor, of these sombre triumphs of the night. Down with the tyrant! Of whom are you speaking? Do you call Louis Philippe the tyrant? No; no more than Louis XVI. Both of them are what history is in the habit of calling good kings; but principles are not to be parcelled out, the logic of the true is rectilinear, the peculiarity of truth is that it lacks complaisance; no concessions, then; all encroachments on man should be repressed. There is a divine right in Louis XVI, there is because a Bourbon in Louis Philippe; both represent in a certain measure the confiscation of right, and, in order to clear away universal insurrection, they must be combated; it must be done, France being always the one to begin. When the master falls in France, he falls everywhere. In short, what cause is more just, and consequently, what war is greater, than that which re-establishes social truth, restores her throne to liberty, restores the people to the people, restores sovereignty to man, replaces the purple on the head of France, restores equity and reason in their plenitude, suppresses every germ of antagonism by restoring each one to himself, annihilates the obstacle which royalty presents to the whole immense universal concord, and places the human race once more on a level with the right? These wars build up peace. An enormous fortress of prejudices, privileges, superstitions, lies, exactions, abuses, violences, iniquities, and darkness still stands erect in this world, with its towers of hatred. It must be cast down. This monstrous mass must be made to crumble. To conquer at Austerlitz is grand; to take the Bastille is immense.

There is no one who has not noticed it in his own case-the soul, and therein lies the marvel of its unity complicated with ubiquity, has a strange aptitude for reasoning almost coldly in the most violent extremities, and it often happens that heartbroken passion and profound despair in the very agony of their blackest monologues, treat subjects and discuss theses. Logic is mingled with convulsion, and the thread of the syllogism floats, without breaking, in the mournful storm of thought. This was the situation of Marius' mind.

As he meditated thus, dejected but resolute, hesitating in every direction, and, in short, shuddering at what he was about to do, his glance strayed to the interior of the barricade. The insurgents were here conversing in a low voice, without moving, and there was perceptible that quasi-silence which marks the last stage of expectation. Overhead, at the small window in the third story, Marius descried a sort of spectator who appeared to him to be singularly attentive. This was the porter who had been killed by Le Cabuc. Below, by the lights of the torch, which was thrust between the paving-stones, this head could be vaguely distinguished. Nothing could be stranger, in that sombre and uncertain gleam, than that livid, motionless, astonished face, with its bristling hair, its eyes fixed and staring, and its yawning mouth, bent over the street in an attitude of curiosity. One would have said that the man who was dead was surveying those who were about to die. A long trail of blood which had flowed from that head, descended in reddish threads from the window to the height of the first floor, where it stopped.

[okaratauri]

For the character ask: Skippy

Also, because I know you're in the fandom, how about Starflight?

YESSIRRRR OKAY

here’s the thing:

https://www.tumblr.com/okaratauri/759735234791129088/give-me-a-character?source=share

OKAYOKAYOKAY FOR SKIPPY

How I feel about this character

I RELATE TO HIM WAY TOO MUCH. He is literally me im just not as big of an asshole EXECPT TO ONE FRIEND. I am legit his Skippy and he’s Joe. 100%

Skippy’s character development/design is beautiful. He has a slow burn development that you kinda don’t notice, until you do. Just like Rodney McKay from Stargate. The parallels between Rodney McKay/John Sheppard and Skippy and Joe are all too similar. I’m convinced the author based Skip and Joe’s duo off of Sheppard and McKay. I’m also a SUCKER for the arrogant genius tropes. Skippy is my all time favorite character of all fandoms ever, which is funny bc that title had belonged to McKay which further proves my point.

All the people I ship romantically with this character

Nagatha. Those two are freaking adorable. Nagatha and Nagatha alone. Sorry doll lol

My non-romantic OTP for this character

Halloween colors oooo

okay I really like Frey and Skippy’s friendship. The way she sings with him and makes him feel wanted and not like he’s a burden to talk to? Amazing. I’m here for it 100%. Also Skippy and Tripps! I would’ve KILLED FOR TRIPPS TO SURVIVE OH MY G O D. AHHHH. Also Skippy and Friedlander is hilarious. And Skippy and Joes mom. I can see her chatting away with Skippy over tea about Joe, Skippy tryna learn more about his favorite monkey and Joes mom tryna make sure Joe is doing alright and hearing about his adventures kicking rotten kitty ass.

My unpopular opinion about this character:

Home front was amazing. Seeing as it was written by skippy. My only problem with home front was the battle cries that’s it, I bore through everything else and loved it.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon:

I wish he actually snuck a puppy onto the ship…or had more heart to hearts with bishop…or yk…

TRIPPS SURVIVED AND THEY INTERACTED MORE??? PLEASE??? GAH. IMA KILL ALANSON. (Not really) BUT OH MY GOD 😭😭😭

OKAY NOW FOR STARFLIGHT

How I feel about this character

baby boi baby

I wanna hug him 😭😭😭 he deserved so much 💀 it’s not his fault he was born into a bunch of racist, god complex, lyin little worms! Honestly his queen reminded me of the Maxholx commander Reichert loll. Anywho I was so sad when he lost his eyes but also that’s really cool to visualize. He needs a scavenger companion.

All the people I ship romantically with this character:

I think him and Sunny are a-freaking-dorable! I haven’t read the series in a while but yeah him and Sunny I can’t change it it’s too good. Ik I haven’t branched out from canon much but sometimes canon is so good it can’t be changed.

My non-romantic OTP for this character:

Star flight and Glory. The quiet, introverted, people pleasing bookworm and the loud, sassy, bulldozer of a queen. Love it so much. Also I feel like Starflight and Cricket would be such a great duo to follow.

My unpopular opinion about this character

uhhhhhh idk lol. It’s been a long while since I read the series.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon.

I wish he got a scavenger friend or two to help him in the library. Ik that’s it and boring but srsly it would’ve been adorable.

[classicalcanvas]

Title: Napoleon at the battle of Friedland in 1807

Artist: Horace Vernet

Date: 1833

Style: Romanticism

Genre: History Painting

[marvelousmatt]

It Took a “Huge Science Project” for What We Do in the Shadows to Bring Back Colin Robinson

BY WHITNEY FRIEDLANDER

JUNE 5, 2023

In this epic battle of nature versus nurture, nature has won.

The third season finale of FX’s vampire mockumentary What We Do in the Shadows saw the death of energy vampire Colin Robinson (Mark Proksch) as well as his rebirth into a slimy, screaming, and time-consuming infant. The most recent fourth season saw him grow quickly from there, going from an energetic toddler to a tap-dancing tween to a sullen teen within a season.

All of this happened while his de facto parents, the more canonical blood-sucking vampire Laszlo (Matt Berry) and the vampires’ human bodyguard, Guillermo (Harvey Guillén), tried to keep this version of their roommate from becoming like his annoying and frustrating predecessor: a supernatural being who gains energy by draining you of yours.

But that season finale, titled—what else for an episode about vampire parenting?—“Sunrise, Sunset,” saw Colin Robinson complete his metamorphosis into the grating-voiced and flatulent creature whom his housemates already knew. (The character is always referred to by both his first and last names; co-showrunner Paul Simms, who wrote this episode, has said that the fifth season, which premieres July 13, will get into whether these are even actually his names). To make that transformation complete, the team needed a Styrofoam wall, some “turn off that racket” music, and as little dialogue as possible.

Room Rager

Shadows has already established that these aren’t just vampires; they’re vampire hoarders. The characters’ dilapidated Staten Island Tudor is overcrowded with animals dead and alive, musty furniture, candelabras, and dusty books.

It’s hard to put a value on specific things when time has no meaning. And Colin Robinson’s quest will only reinforce this notion.

It begins as he’s banging holes in his bedroom wall whilst blasting death metal, a music choice that serves the dual purpose of covering up the first action and really irritating his roommates, (or, as episode director Kyle Newacheck puts it, is an example of how the character was “starting to learn how to feed in that state”).

The look of bewilderment when one of his holes uncovers a film canister suggests Colin Robinson is operating out of instinct rather than with a known purpose. As the show’s score quickens, he rushes through the house's tight hallways to find a projector and lug it downstairs.

The found footage has more clues, pointing out where else Colin Robinson should hit and in what order. It’s then that he discovers energy vampire nirvana: a long hallway lit like a fluorescent-hued forgotten side room of a public library. There are meticulously hung beige and brown sweaters and slacks (some Proksch had actually worn on the show), and detailed diary entries that, among other things, suggest one of the character’s boring rants was the impetus for the events in the movie Se7en.

As he makes himself at home in an uncomfortable chair for innumerable hours of reading, teen Colin Robinson’s hair falls out and his posture changes. Behold: The energy vampire’s metaphorical butterfly wings begin to flap.

“The Color Within the Darkness”

Newacheck says he and the production team had about two weeks to build “the huge science project,” which was a wall of Styrofoam blocks that could smash open, plus the secret room, which had to be constructed so that it connected to the bedroom set. Audiences had already seen Colin Robinson’s room, which is tiny and sparse, with only two pieces of art that hang on separate walls. Newacheck decided that those paintings could be what he calls “visual coding” for the character to learn where to line up the projector. Music supervisor Nora Felder chose “Forbidden Lies” by A Creatures Cage and “Killing Engine” by Andy James, Jan Cyrka, and  Christopher Clancy to play during the hammering, both of which exude a “turn off that racket” vibe.

Newacheck was inspired by the last scenes of Darren Aronofsky’s film Requiem for a Dream, which uses a soaring score amidst stark lighting and shadows to create what he calls a “big, revelatory feeling.” He says he worked with director of photography D.J. Stipsen, who was also the cinematographer on the 2014 film that inspired this series, to find “the color within the darkness” of a purposefully bleak interior.

The mockumentary format helped too, Newachek says. “Sometimes, when you’re trying to figure out what’s important in a scene, it’s kind of nice to have less choices in terms of shot coverage or shot selection,” he says. “It makes you realize what’s very important about the scene and focus on that.”

Silence Is Golden

Shadows tends to be a very loud and chatty show (Who knew hundreds-year-old vampires could be so needy? Guillermo did). Juxtaposed with this scene is a storyline involving one of Colin Robinson’s other roommates, the vampire Nadja (Natasia Demetriou), and a lot of flailing and hissing. But Proksch embraced the lack of dialogue in this transformation scene.

“There was a moment where we talked about throwing in some ad libs,” he says. “And we just came to the conclusion that it should just exist how it was written. It should be a bit of a heightened moment.”

He adds that it’s even debatable how cognizant Colin Robinson was that he was being filmed, both because “he was so in the zone that he was not paying attention to anything other than his quest” and because he’s now, technically, the youngest vampire in the house. Much like actual children, “since he was reborn, he has been on camera,” Proksch says. “I think he also considers them to be commonplace and not as much of a novelty as the rest of the characters do.”

Learning and Relearning

Colin Robinson’s final moments of transformation might solidify that Laszlo and Guillermo’s efforts were always going to be in vain. Proksch speculates that, even if his character hadn’t wanted to read those journals, “he would have then been compelled” to do so because “it's in his DNA to relearn the process of becoming an energy vampire.”

They also help him hone in on what kind of energy vampire he is destined to be; leaving behind the days of teen angst and moving full-on into trapping his prey with mind-numbing conversations.

“I think it’s something like when you’re in school,” Proksch explains. “Up until college, you're in school and you learn a bunch of different things…. When you get to college, you specialize.”

Proksch doesn’t know how many times Colin Robinson has been reborn, although the show has established that this happens to energy vampires every hundred years, and some images from the opening credits suggest he might have been alive in the 1700s. But he does think it’s interesting that he never looks any older than Proksch himself, who is in his 40s.

Are humans the most boring when we’re middle-aged? “I think middle age is particularly boring,” he acknowledges.

[dolphin1812]

This chapter is very short, so I’ll just go paragraph by paragraph:

“A few squares of the Guard, standing motionless in the swash of the rout, like rocks in running water, held out till night. They awaited the double shadow of night and death, and let them surround them. Each regiment, isolated from the others, and no longer connected with the army which was broken on all sides, died where it stood. In order to perform this last exploit, they had taken up a position, some on the heights of Rossomme, others on the plain of Mont St. Jean. The gloomy squares, deserted, conquered, and terrible, struggled formidably with death, for Ulm, Wagram, Jena, and Friedland were dying in it. When twilight set in at nine in the evening, one square still remained at the foot of the plateau of Mont St. Jean. In this mournful valley, at the foot of the slope scaled by the cuirassiers, now inundated by the English masses, beneath the converging fire of the hostile and victorious artillery, under a fearful hailstorm of projectiles, this square still resisted. It was commanded by an obscure officer of the name of Cambronne. At each volley the square diminished, but continued to reply to the canister with musketry fire, and each moment contracted its four walls. Fugitives in the distance, stopping at moments to draw breath, listened in the darkness to this gloomy diminishing thunder.”

The simile of “rocks in running water” is kind of beautiful for something so gruesome? I don’t have very concrete thoughts on it, I just think Hugo chose a nice image there. However, it does represent another example of Hugo’s interest in water metaphors, which recurs later in the paragraph as the English “inundate” the valley. I think his word choice there is really effective. There’s something terrifying about being trapped in a flooding valley, where the landscape makes escape impossible, and having that be where the French are stuck heightens the sense of panic.

This paragraph also makes numerous references to darkness: the “double shadow of night and death;” “twilight;” and “listened in the darkness to this gloomy diminishing thunder.” While most references to darkness so far have been metaphorical, here, this darkness is very literal (night is falling) even as it represents death. The simple language used to describe it makes it more impactful. This darkness is not about the struggle within a person, or between a person and fate, which merits lengthy paragraphs; this is simply the darkness of night and the darkness of death.

“When this legion had become only a handful, when their colors were but a rag, when their ammunition was exhausted, and muskets were clubbed, and when the pile of corpses was greater than the living group, the victors felt a species of sacred awe, and the English artillery ceased firing. It was a sort of respite; these combatants had around them an army of spectres, outlines of mounted men, the black profile of guns, and the white sky visible through the wheels; the colossal death's-head which heroes ever glimpse in the smoke of a battle, advanced and looked at them. They could hear in the twilight gloom that the guns were being loaded; the lighted matches, resembling the eyes of a tiger in the night, formed a circle round their heads. The linstocks of the English batteries approached the guns, and at this moment an English general,—Colville according to some, Maitland according to others,—holding the supreme moment suspended over the heads of these men, shouted to them, "Brave Frenchmen, surrender!"”

Hugo again leans on the horrific aspects of defeat. The reference to the “pile of corpses” is the most brutal part of this, highlighting the extent of French losses during the battle, but the way he describes the English contributes to this as well. They are “spectres” who appear in black and white, partly because of the darkness and partly because of their ghostliness. Even though the French can see some things, most of the details here are about what they hear. They can’t see well enough to make out every detail, and thus have to rely on their other senses while surrounded by these armed spectres (which again, is terrifying to imagine). That everything is in black and white also makes the events seem graver and more extreme, as all the soldiers see is in absolute contrasts rather than in an array of colors. 

It’s also intriguing that Hugo says the matches of the English resembled “the eyes of a tiger in the night.” On the one hand, tigers are predators, making this an apt comparison for a force endangering the lives of these French soldiers. On the other, Hugo typically employs feline imagery for the masses and the downtrodden (Valjean, the people of Paris, etc). If this was against Napoleon, perhaps this would fit this pattern, as his downfall is linked to divine retribution on behalf of the populace. Here, though, all of the French soldiers present are fairly ordinary rank-wise. Even Cambronne is only an “obscure officer.” Consequently, this big cat comparison may really just be for the predatory image.

Another detail that’s emphasized here is the courage of these soldiers. Hugo calls them “heroes,” and even the English address them as “brave Frenchmen.” This could be a formulaic way of seeming respectful on the battlefield, so it might not be unusual, but it also could be a way of making sure the French are praised even in defeat.

Cambronne answered, "Merde!"

So this is what the next chapter will be about!

[josefavomjaaga]

Marbot and his memoirs

It’s occurred to me that I have been rather harsh in my judgement of Marbot’s memoirs, so I thought I should give an explanation. For those who read French this article may be of interest: Ètudes critiques sur les sources narratives […] - Les mèmoires de Marbot. This attempt to figure out how much of Marbot’s memoirs is actually true (or rather, how little) dates back to 1902 already, i.e., mere ten years after the memoirs were published.

For those who don’t read French, some major lies in Marbot’s story:

He was not the one who brought the message that Masséna had given up Genoa to Napoleon, meaning that all the compliments Napoleon flatters Marbot with at this occasion are also an invention

As he was still in Genoa at the time, he also did not take part in the battle of Marengo.

He most likely was a total nobody at the time and not in contact with anybody higher up the ladder, as he had problems to see his provisional rank of sous-lieutenant confirmed after the campaign.

He was not at the battle of Austerlitz as he claims, he probably was not around the imperial headquarters at all during the important combats.

He was not present during a meeting of Prussian ambassador Haugwitz with Napoleon at Brünn, because such a meeting never happened.

He did not save any Russian officer from drowning in the lakes of Satschan because… well. This has been discussed to death over Ridley Scott’s movie. Thanks for providing that Brit with ammunition, Marcellin!

He was not sent to Berlin in August 1806 in order to bring to the Prussian king an ultimatum from Napoleon, such a letter does not even exist.

After he had been wounded at Eylau, he did not miss out on the decoration of the Légion d’Honneur due to a confusion with his brother Adolphe; Adolphe had been decorated before that battle.

After Eylau, he was sent back to Paris to take care of his wounds, and he stayed there for the rest of the campaign. So he was not transferred to the staff of Marshal Lannes, he did not take part in the battles of Heilsberg and Friedland and he was not present at the meeting between Napoleon and Alexander at Tilsit.

He did not bring the news of the Dos de Mayo uprising to Napoleon, as a matter of fact, he was not even in Spain before mid-June.

He also was not charged with taking the news of the victory at Tudela to Napoleon by Lannes, who at this occasion, according to Marbot, refused to give him an escort, he was not wounded in an ambush on the road during that trip and was not replaced by Lannes’ brother-in-law, who then received a promotion for having delived a dispatch "bathed in Marbot’s blood". It was even a different aide who took that dispatch to Napoleon.

Marbot in fact is the only of his aides whom Lannes does not mention by name in his reports to Napoleon, which makes you wonder if he was even there

And so on, and so on. Marbot is a brilliant writer, but he seems to have been one of the young, still rather insignificant officers in the shadow of the giants from the Revolutionary Wars, who had to wait their turn and who never got the chance to truly rise because the empire fell too soon. So, if we call Ida’s memoirs (in part) a self-insert fanfiction, the same is true for Marbot’s. And in his case, the lies even can be proven.

[mishijl]

HISTORY

hello, I am Myiesha Hanne Cortes Quiban from Grade 6-Faith, I like learning, History, Geography, Politics and culture. and I will introduce you Napoleon Bonaparte History is the study of change over time, and it covers all aspects of human society. Political, social, economic, scientific, technological, medical, cultural, intellectual, religious and military developments are all part of history.

later known by his regnal name Napoleon I, was a French military commander and political leader who rose to prominence during the French Revolution and led successful campaigns during the Revolutionary war. He was the leader of the French Republic as First Consul from 1799 to 1804, then of the French Empire as Emperor of the French from 1804 until 1814, and briefly again in 1815. His political and cultural legacy endures as a celebrated and controversial leader. He initiated many enduring reforms, but has been criticized for his authoritarian rule. He is considered one of the greatest military commanders in history, although historians still debate whether he was responsible for the Napoleonic Wars in which between three and six million people died.

Napoleon was born on the island of Corsica into a family descending from Italian nobility. He was resentful of the French monarchy, and supported the French Revolution in 1789 while serving in the French army, trying to spread its ideals to his native Corsica. He rose rapidly in the ranks after saving the governing French Directory by firing on royalist insurgents. In 1796, he began a military campaign against the Austrians and their Italian allies, scoring decisive victories, and became a national hero. Two years later he led a military expedition to Egypt that served as a springboard to political power. He engineered a coup in November 1799 and became First Consul of the Republic. In 1804, to consolidate and expand his power, he crowned himself Emperor of the French.

Differences with the United Kingdom meant France faced the War of the Third Coalition by 1805. Napoleon shattered this coalition with victories in the Ulm campaign and at the Battle of Austerlitz, which led to the dissolution of the Holy Roman Empire. In 1806, the Fourth Coalition took up arms against him. Napoleon defeated Prussia at the battles of Jena and Austerlitz , marched the Grande Armée into Eastern Europe, and defeated the Russians in June 1807 at Friedland, forcing the defeated nations of the Fourth Coalition to accept the Treaties of Tilsit. Two years later, the Austrians challenged the French again during the War of the Fifth Coalition, but Napoleon solidified his grip over Europe after triumphing at the Battle of Wagram.

Hoping to extend the Continental System, his embargo against Britain, Napoleon invaded the Iberian Peninsula and declared his brother Joseph the King of Spain in 1808. The Spanish and the Portuguese revolted in the Peninsular War aided by a British army, culminating in defeat for Napoleon's marshals. Napoleon launched an invasion of Russia in the summer of 1812. The resulting campaign witnessed the catastrophic retreat of Napoleon's Grande Armée. In 1813, Prussia and Austria joined Russian forces in a Sixth Coalition against France, resulting in a large coalition army defeating Napoleon at the Battle of Leipzig. The coalition invaded France and captured Paris, forcing Napoleon to abdicate in April 1814. He was exiled to the island of Elba, between Corsica and Italy. In France, the Bourbons were restored to power.

Napoleon escaped in February 1815 and took control of France. The Allies responded by forming a Seventh Coalition, which defeated Napoleon at the Battle of Waterloo in June 1815. The British exiled him to the remote island of Saint Helena in the Atlantic, where he died in 1821 at the age of 51.

Napoleon had a lasting impact on the world, bringing modernizing reforms to France and Western Europe and stimulating the development of nation states. He also sold the Louisiana Territory to the United States in 1803, doubling the size of the United States. However, his exploitation of conquered territories, mixed record on civil rights, reintroduction of slavery in France's colonies, and repression of the Haitian Revolution are controversial and adversely affect his reputation. and that's all I hope you enjoyed it thank you

[movies-to-add-to-your-tbw]

Title: Epic

Rating: PG

Director: Chris Wedge

Cast: Colin Farrell, Amanda Seyfried, Christoph Waltz, Josh Hutcherson, Jason Sudeikis, Aziz Ansari, Chris O’Dowd, Beyoncé, Judah Friedlander, Steven Tyler, Pitbull, Blake Anderson

Release year: 2013

Genres: family, fantasy, adventure

Blurb: A teenager finds herself transported to a deep forest where a battle between the forces of good and the forces of evil is taking place. She bands together with a ragtag group of characters in order to save their world...and hers.

[jxrm]

book log - 2023 (continued)

the good lie by a.r. torre

something wilder by christina lauren

pineapple street by jenny jackson

drinking games by sarah levy

the housemaid by frieda mcfadden

full disclosure by camryn garrett

the dream job by kiersten modglin

never lie by frieda mcfadden

the silent woman by minka kent

hidden pictures by jason rekulak

girl in trouble by stacy claftin

the waitress by nina manning

xoxo by axie oh

yellowface by r.f. kuang

unmissing by minka kent

the rise by shari king

take me home tonight by morgan matson

the best lies by sarah lyu

arsenic and adobo by mia p. manansala

our missing hearts by celeste ng

the locked door by frieda mcfadden

where the crawdads sing by delia owens

the couple at table six by daniel hurst

survive the night by riley sager

the wife upstairs by freida mcfadden

one of us is dead by jeneva rose

five little indians by michelle good

the push by ashley audrain

i’ll stop the world by lauren thoman

silver nitrate by silvia moreno-garcia

romantic comedy by curtis sittenfield

the maidens by alex michaelides

every last secret by a.r. torre

the headmaster’s list by melissa de la cruz

last summer at the golden hotel by elyssa friedland

the collective by alison gaylin

one true loves by taylor jenkins reid

the trade off by sandie jones

my summer darlings by may cobb

the last housewife by ashley winstead

good rich people by eliza jane brazier

the club by ellery lloyd

phantom limb by lucinda berry

the night shift by alex finlay

layoverland by gabby noone

the writing retreat by julia bartz

never never by colleen hoover

reckless by cecily von ziegesar

the family game by catherine steadman

just say yes by maxine morrey

a pho love story by loan le

the birthday girl by melissa de la cruz

local woman missing by mary kubica

the last to vanish by megan miranda

yolk’s on me by d.t. henderson

the housemaid’s secret by frieda mcfadden

happy people are annoying by josh peck

the fraud squad by kyla zhao

wrong place wrong time by gillian mcallister

the grayson legacy by boris bacic

remarkably bright creatures by shelby van pelt

the couple in the cabin by daniel hurst

yerba buena by nina lacour

the ex by frieda mcfadden

notorious by cecilyn von ziegesar

layla by colleen hoover

the inmate by frieda mcfadden

last night at the telegraph club by malinda lo

the friend zone by abby jimenez

how to american by jimmy o. yang

lunar love by lauren kung jessen

the it girl by crackly von ziegesar

what lies in the woods by kate alice marshall

queen of thieves by beezy march

weather girl by rachel lynn solomon

the perfect marriage by jeneva rose

my sister, the serial killer by tonkin braithwaithe

things we never got over by lucy score

like me by hayley phelan

do not disturb by frieda mcfadden

for the love of friends by sara goodman confino

reckless girls by rachel hawkins

ghost 19 by simone st. james

the winter people by jennifer mcmahon

please join us by catherine mckenzie

under the whispering door by t.j. klune

the bookstore sisters by alice hoffman

lessons in chemistry by bonnie garmus

the new year’s party by daniel hurst

the house in the cerulean sea by t.j. klune

trixie and katya’s guide to womanhood by trixie mattel

i kissed shara wheeler by casey mcquiston

horrorstor by grady hendrix

yours truly by abby jimenez

happy place by emily henry

the soulmate by sally hepworth

i have some questions for you by rebecca makkai

what happened the ruthy ramirez by claire jimenez

mad honey by jodi picoult

really good, actually by monica heisey

the ballad of songbirds and snakes by suzanne collins

the lightning thief by rick riordan

harry potter and the philosophers stone by j.k. rowling

the sea of monsters by rick riordan

the titan’s curse by rick riordan

harry potter and the chamber of secrets by j.k. rowling

the battle of the labyrinth by rick riordan

harry potter and the prisoner of azkaban by j.k. rowling

the last olympian by rick riordan

the lost hero by rick riordan

harry potter and the goblet of fire by j.k. rowling

the son of neptune by rick riordan

the mark of athena by rick riordan

harry potter and the order of the phoenix by j.k. rowling

harry potter and the half blood prince by j.k. rowling

harry potter and the deathly hallows by j.k. rowling

harry potter and the cursed child by john tiffany