2.27.2007

Larger Than Life: Sir William Napier

For a class, I've been reading some selections of Oliver Wendell Holmes, Jr. Right at the beginning of "The Soldier's Faith" (remarks delivered on Memorial Day, May 30, 1895 at "a Meeting Called by the Graduating Class of Harvard University"), he makes the point that of all characteristics, wealth is most greatly admired in a man.

I once heard a man say, "Where Vanderbilt sits, there is the head of the table. I teach my son to be rich." He sad what many think. For although the generation born about 1840, and now governing the world, has fought two at least of the greatest wars in history...war is out of fashion, and the man who commands the attention of his fellows is the man of wealth.

...

Most of my hearers would rather that their daughters or their sisters should marry a son of one of the great rich families than a regular army officer, were he as beautiful, brace, and gifted as Sir William Napier.
This name brought me to a halt. It sounded familiar, but beyond that it was foreign.

As it turns out, Sir William Napier is a fascinating character. My immediate resource, not surprisingly, was that omniwebpresent anthology of knowledge, Wikipedia, but I'm intrigued and will be pursuing a further investigation as time permits. Napier had, depending on how you look at it, a charmed or cursed life.
Sir William Francis Patrick Napier (December 7, 1785 - February 12, 1860), British soldier and military historian, third son of Colonel George Napier (1751-1804) was born at Celbridge, near Dublin.

He became an ensign in the Royal Irish Artillery in 1800, but at once exchanged into the 62nd, and was put on half-pay in 1802. He was afterwards made a cornet in the Blues by the influence of his uncle the duke of Richmond, and for the first time did actual military duty in this regiment, but he soon fell in with Sir John Moore's suggestion that he should exchange into the 52nd, which was about to be trained in the famous camp of Shorncliffe. Through Sir John Moore he soon obtained a company in the 43rd, joined that regiment at Shorncliffe and became a great favourite with Moore.

He served in Denmark, and was present at the engagement of Kioge, and, his regiment being shortly afterwards sent to Spain, he bore himself nobly through the retreat to Corunna, the hardships of which permanently impaired his health. In 1809 he became aide-de-camp to the duke of Richmond, lord lieutenant of Ireland, but joined the 43rd when that regiment was ordered again to Spain. With the light brigade (the 43rd, 52nd, and 95th), under the command of General Craufurd, he marched to Talavera in the famous forced march which he has described in his History, and had a violent attack of pleurisy on the way.

He, however, refused to leave Spain, was wounded on the Coa, and shot near the spine at Cazal Nova. His conduct was so conspicuous during the pursuit of Masséna after he left the lines of Torres Vedras that he as well as his brother George was recommended for a brevet majority. He became brigade major, was present at Fuentes d'Onor, but had so bad an attack of ague that he was obliged to return to England. In England he married Caroline Amelia Fox, daughter of General Henry Fox and niece of the statesman Fox.


If you're beginning to notice a pattern, I congratulate you. Napier seemed to be a magnet for non-mortal wounds and crippling, but not lethal, diseases.

His resilience, of course, is not why Holmes employed as the paragon of martial spirit. Over his long active military career, he seemed to have a near-fanatical devotion to his troops (perhaps the reason he suffered so often and so grievously in battle). Further, though he was a fighting man, and largely illiterate at the time of his retirement from active service, he schooled himself in literature and became a highly popular and well-regarded historian. His major work recounted that campaign that he played a significant role in, The History of the Peninsula War, and, with the publication of each successive volume, was quite a hit (though sales weren't so torrid right out the gate).

Napier's life merits much further examination, and I regret that I may never have the time to do his life justice. I'll close by noting he came from one helluva a fighting family. Consider his brothers:
Not a bad record at all. Righto, back to work, back to work.

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