Book Review: Napoleon & the Invasion of England, Wheeler & Broadley

NB - Another of my forays into archival material. I read this book a number of years ago, and wrote and posted a review on Amazon’s UK website, also some years back. This is a slightly amended version of that. I was prompted to revisit it as I’m currently reading the superb Coastal Defences of the British Empire, by Daniel MacCannell.

Napoleon's mooted invasion of England - actually a task set for him by the Directory that he didn't seem to have his heart in (the fact that he hoped initially he might be allowed to live out his exile in England is interesting and revealing) - is a fascinating subject, and I'm quite surprised there aren't a lot more books on the subject than there appear to be.

This book is a reprint of a work written in the early years of the 20th century, and it's age does show a little in two respects: the tone of the writing can occasionally feel a tad dated, and the level of detail reflects an obsessiveness that seems almost Victorian in its zeal. I'm writing this not quite having finished the book, which I started several years ago, and eventually lost impetus with.

This said, the first two thirds of the book were, I felt, fascinating and engaging. Although Boney never seemed to quite believe in it, as a project, yet he threw himself into it with what was to become known as his trademark vigour, endlessly commissioning huge lists of highly detailed jobs for his subordinates, always demanding the next to impossible. As well as a decent if occasionally stodgy and perhaps over long text, there's an abundance of illustrative material, much of which is quite charming, such as the images of invasion via tunnels, floating castles, or even a fleet of dirigibles!

No source is left unvisited, so we are treated to commemorative medals, songs and poems, cartoons, pamphlets, extracts from personal letters, public announcements and military correspondence. No proverbial stone is left unturned. Given that almost every aspect of Napoleon's career is exhaustively written about, it's a little odd to me that, and especially what with our penchant for an overly Anglocentric reading of the era bearing the name of the man many here liked to call the 'Corsican upstart', we're not more interested in his plans to invade our shores.

So, for all that this isn't perfect, at least it's a solid and comprehensive treatment of a fascinating subject. Even though I’m still yet to finish it, I did (and still do) like it. But this is certainly more a book for the devoted Napoleonic history buff than the casual reader.

Book Reviews: The French at Waterloo; Eyewitness Accounts, vols I & II, Andrew Field

One might be forgiven for wondering why, instead of two fairly slim volumes, at £20 each, these two books weren't instead published as a single fatter book, at say £25-30. But setting aside that brief attack of penny-pinching cynicism, the actual content of these two books, both reviewed here, is superb. 

Vol I - Napoleon, Imperial HQ & Ist Corps

"I cannot get over our defeat. We were manoeuvred like so many pumpkins." Col. Marbot.

After an opening chapter on the usage/reliability of eyewitness accounts, volume one begins with three descriptions from Napoleon: the official post battle report, as dictated to Fleury de Chabalon, which appeared soon after the battle in le Moniteur, then Gorgaud's and Bertrand's accounts. All three are widely accepted as being Napoleon's own versions of events, and each one is a successively larger and more detailed reiteration of the same basic themes.

The accounts that follow, from Napleon's Household and then the Imperial HQ, unsurprisingly perhaps, largely follow their leaders' version of events. Except that is where his subordinates have incurred his blame, and then they might seek to excuse of justify themselves. All of this makes the first half or two thirds of this first volume somewhat repetitive, especially as the numerous accounts frequently recapitulate the same lists of unit dispositions and the major sequences of events.

Marcellin Marbot, in his 7th Hussar togs, c. 1815.*

Where volume one really comes to life, for me at any rate - and what makes it five bicornes, not four, or four and a half - is in the Ist Corps accounts. Especially so in those from the middling and lower ranks, whose colourful and lively narratives generally focus more closely on events the individuals concerned actually witnessed or took part in. The 'big hats', with eyes on posterity (and higher social standing to fall from) tend to give overviews coloured by hindsight, later/wider reading, and post-war politicking. 

Napoleon's own influence on the French readings of events, unsurprisingly, casts a long shadow. And yet despite this, the natural 'fog of war', and the blame games - around Ney and Grouchy in particular, but also bearing on the actions of others, like d'Erlon, Marcognet, etc. - reveal how widely the same events can be perceived or understood, not just by the antagonist nations, but within the same nation's own armies.

An excellent and fascinating collection. Essential reading for the Napoleonic/Waterloo enthusiast.

* Acc. to Wikipedia!

Vol II - IInd & VIth Corps, Cavalry, Artillery, Imperial Guard & Medical Services

"(T)his immortal slaughter." Larreguy de Civrieux.

The same standard of excellence is observed here as elsewhere in Field's terrific work on the whole French experience of the Waterloo campaign. 

A brief introduction recapitulates things he said in volume one, in particular addressing the reliability of the types of material that make up these fascinating books. He then moves through the various military bodies already listed above, citing numerous extracts from the memoirs of participants, mostly from the upper echelons - i.e. officers - with, as per volume one, brief biographical notes about the person concerned followed by their recollections of these momentous events and their parts in them.

First of all it's terrific that we are gradually getting access to more of this French material, after two centuries in which the English tradition of Waterloo historiography has been pretty one sided. There is something of an irony in this respect, re the fate of Capt. Siborne and his researches, which occurred so soon after the battle, and which sought to include accounts from all sides. There are several interesting books on Siborne, his dioramas, and the research he undertook in order to build them, as well as Siborne's own writings (which I have, but as yet haven't read; they're reputedly rather tough going!). [1]

Sylvain Larreguy, c. 1828.

But returning to the accounts in hand themselves, they are great, adding a lot of colour and interest to this much written about (most written about?) of epoch-ending/making battles. I won't go into great detail about any specific accounts contained herein. But it is interesting to note how they differ from traditional Anglo-centric accounts, on things ranging from relatively minor actions that don't appear in English histories, to more controversial claims, such as the frequently repeated claim that the French took and even held Hougoumont for a while at some point.

But in the end, whatever the veracity of some of these interesting claims/differences, it all adds up to more interesting and useful reference on this most compelling of battles. I'd even go so far as to say that Field's entire oeuvre on this subject is all essential to the genuine Napoleonic/Waterloo buff. In a word, brilliant.

The author (found this pic in an online Wilts news article!).

[1] In both volumes Siborne is, if my memory serves, only mentioned the once: on p. 106 of vol II Field laments how the French Guard officers, unlike Siborne's English correspondents, only told of their own local experiences. I think the mention he gets in volume I is on a similar theme, re sources and their limitations, but I can't pinpoint it (no indexes!?).

Book Review: Wellington in 100 Objects, Gareth Glover

In the venerable tradition started - as far as I know? - by the British Museum's exemplary History of the World in 100 Objects, the book I'm reviewing here today joins an ever growing assortment of similarly themed books on numerous historical subjects. Prolific Napoleonic author Gareth Glover notches up yet more titles, annexing ever more shelf-space, authoring several such books on Napoleonic matters himself, including this one. And there are also titles by other authors, on the Third Reich, and all sorts.

In this book the objects themselves range from the tiny - a looted silver fork - to the massive - castles, stately homes, even whole villages, towns or cities, that Arthur Wellesley had some connection with. From the obvious, like his boots or campaign cape, to the more obscure, like dentures, or the saw used to amputate Lord Uxbridge's leg. 

From the humourous... [1]

And in the process of examining this wealth of material, which is frequently supplemented by other related stuff, we learn masses about not just the famed and celebrated victor of Waterloo, but his family, the times in which he lived, and the many and varied places his life story connects together. From the Congress of Vienna, to Napoleon's lonely and remote exile on St. Helena. From ancestral roots in Ireland, to nepotistic postings in India. And with his activities and interests connecting him with everywhere from the far-flung, such as to the Americas, to such near neighbours as Portugal, Spain and Northwest Europe.

Wellington doesn't have quite the same the mercurial mythological magnetism that Boney had, and continues to have. At the time of posting this review this book is listed as 'currently unavailable' on Amazon's UK website, unlike the pendant title, also by Glover, on Napoleon in 100 Objects. But, and especially so for the English, he is, and ought to be, someone we want to know more about. And this book does an admirable job of facilitating that.

... to the more macabre. [2]

NOTES:

[1] Wellington infamously duelled Lord Winchelsea, in 1829, whilst he (the former) was P.M!

[2] The saw and a bloodied surgeon's glove, from National Army Museum's collections, allegedly used to remove Uxbridge's shattered leg, at or just after Waterloo.

15mm: Basing AW Miniatures Peninsular British.

I bought these 15mm AW Miniatures at a show some years ago. Since then it seems the company that made and sold this range has switched to other scales. Or at least last time I checked I couldn't find any 15mm Napoleonics on their website. 

Whilst they're far from the best 15mm (or 18mm) I've ever seen - AB, of course - they're also far from the worst. Rather stocky, with stubby bayonets,and just one infantry pose, they're a bit old school.  

I believe that they came in 'battalion packs', of either 24 or 26 figures, or thereabouts. I would always go for slightly bigger battalions, in the 28-36 figure range. I can recall how at the time I was a bit miffed about this. But I ended up thinking that these'd make nice little on campaign understrength battalions. And they do.

In actual fact these figures paint up rather nicely. It's a shame AW discontinued this range. Maybe they'll bring them back? Or perhaps they'll eventually have a new 15mm Napoleonic range in the pipeline?

Anyway, for now I have this unit and a companion French battalion. I need to paint and base the Frenchies next. With this lot I might replace the standard-bearer's poles with something less fragile and bendy.

Book Review: Too Few For Drums, R. F. Delderfield

My wife and I recently went on a terrific short break, staying at three different AirBnB properties, for two nights each, and visiting three different National Trust properties: Petworth House, the Sandham Memorial Chapel, and Waddesdon Manor.

My holiday reading for this break was a deliberate change from the masses of non-fiction military history and modelling stuff I'm mostly reading these days. For a complete change of pace I borrowed Just One More Thing, Peter Falk's autobiography. That was fun. And, closer to home interests wise to this blog, I also took along and read Too Few For Drums, by novelist and Napoleonic history buff, R. F. Delederfield.

As a kid I'd read his Seven Men of Gascony, and loved it. Thanks to a comment on my review of that book, I became aware of Too Few For Drums. The Seven Men story, as the title makes clear, is from the French perspective, whereas Too Few is from the British. Set in Portugal, in 1810, it tells the story of Ensign Graham, a green young officer, and his small 'file', who become cut off behind enemy lines when a bridge is blown before they've got across.

This different cover is rather more suggestive of campaign romance!

I won't go into great detail. The premise is plausible, and Delderfield's deep and wide knowledge of his subject allows him to craft a very beguiling tale. Some of the characterisations are rather thin/clichéd. Only Graham and a female camp follower who joins the file are drawn in any real depth or detail. But it's well enough done to keep the reader involved, and all adds up to a ripping good yarn.

Delderfield unsurprisingly has his chief protagonists come together in more ways than one. But this rather obvious device is greatly tempered by the rumbling ruminations on the class divide between, essentially, officers and rankers. This was something of a leitmotif for Delderfield in much of his non-Napoleonic fiction, I believe. On the one hand it makes for something rather charmingly dated. But on the other it's both unusual in how it's handled, and not quite as anachronistic as it might seem, at first glance.

It's a very easy read. It could probably be read in a day, if you weren't doing anything else. I absolutely loved it. It was perfect holiday reading. And it was nice to read something still connected to one of my major interests, but a lot lighter and easier going than most.  I knock off half a bicorne for the flimsier characterisations of some of the protagonists. But I'd definitely recommend this to lovers of Napoleonic era historical fiction.

Book Review: Napoleon's Imperial Guard, The Cavalry, Paul Dawson

Initially I took the unusual step of scoring this twice, once for execution (two-and-a-half), and once for intent and all the rest; info/images, etc. (four-and-a-half). But in the end I've opted to combine the two into a single three and a-half bicornes score. And in some respects I think I'm being quite generous.

So, what's the good news? Well, as with the previous Infantry volume, this is a chunky, beautifully printed book, featuring lots of photos of garments and other accoutrements, contemporary or near contemporary artworks, and a small middle section of original paintings by Keith Rocco. The level of detail is quite something. I'm still not quite sure about the heavy use of tables of expenditures on cloth and the like. These occupy the main body of the text. I suspect they might've been less disruptive had they been collected in appendices.

Fab' photos of a surviving kinski.

Already, even in the 'good news' segment I'm getting equivocal! But staying positive: Dawson aims to be, and is, as far as my limited knowledge goes, pretty comprehensive in the mounted bodies he covers, including units like the very short-lived Eclaireurs, the 'attached' Lancers of Berg, and even the mounted artillery and train. Once again, however, even this inclusiveness is tempered by the manner in which it's addressed, which is almost exclusively data-heavy. 

For example, taking the Eclaireurs: the vast majority of what's presented here are either tables of expenditure on cloth, or brief 'histories' of individuals who served in the regiments. All this data is potentially fascinating, particularly to the hardcore Napoleonic junkie like me, but it doesn't make for an especially lively or engaging read. And the frequent 'it is clear from...' type statements are a bit opaque to a layman like me, for whom the bald data often isn't particularly enlightening, and is certainly not indicative of any obvious conclusions.

And finally, whilst some units are fairly copiously illustrated, both in terms of artefacts and illustrations, others, like the Eclaireurs, or even more so the Lithuanian Tartars, aren't. Re the Eclaireurs, reference to some contemporary prints is made, but said images aren't reproduced. And what few items are shown photographically aren't necessarily very representative (I'm referring here to the very fancy full dress dolman of Claude Testot-Ferry [1]).

Mention is made of the Eclaireurs' Rouleau type shako, but it isn't illustrated. [2]

This Job print would've been a very useful inclusion. [3]

As you can see, even in examining this books good points, there are provisos. Now we move on to the problems. There are basically two: one is the data heavy nature of the content. As a book containing information, this really excels, drawing on some sources that are less often foregrounded in the literature. But therein lies the rub; here the bald data is front and centre. It doesn't support an exciting historical narrative, it's just a kind of 'data dump', splat, on the page.

The second issue is one I often find myself mentioning in this special-interest niche of ours, military history, and that's editing. The Infantry volume has some pretty shocking moments, as when the back jacket blurb announces that the book is about cavalry. But this Cavalry volume, whilst correct on the rear dust jacket, is littered with editorial gaffes that suggest it has never been proof-read.

For example, take the first three Rocco plates: the first shows Chasseurs a Cheval, but the caption is for Grenadiers a Cheval. The second is Empress Dragoons, but the caption describes Chasseurs a Cheval. The third, a Grenadier a Cheval... well, it's not made clear in the text what body of cavalry is being referred to. Awful!

Check this image closely, for catastrophic captioning.

This jumble of misplaced captions is bad enough, but there's worse, as on pages 114-115 (shown above), where the left page shows photos of horse bridles/reins, and the right a sword belt and sabretache. But both bear identical captions describing a schabraque! This is, frankly, appalling and inexcusable in a book whose RRP is a hefty £40!

In conclusion, I would say that this potentially excellent book is currently very notably spoiled, partly by the dry data-heavy nature of the text itself, but much more so by the sloppy or seemingly non-existent editing [4]. Nevertheless, whilst pretty disappointed, particularly after the anticipation generated by the previous Infantry volume, I'm still very glad to have this. For all its faults, and they aren't insignificant, overall it's still both fascinating and informative. 

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NOTES:

[1] It's a thing of great beauty, but not as enlightening as to the ordinary uniforms of these units as is the kurtka style jacket that appears later.

[2] The photo I've used is a reproduction item.

Guard Eclaireurs as illustrated by the Funckens.

[3] The Job picture doesn't appear in Dawson's book. Nor does the Martinet image he refers to in the text. Ever since I saw the image reproduced above, from one of the many L. & F. Funcken Arms & Uniforms titles,  I was fascinated by these cool looking cavalrymen. It's a great pity this book doesn't illustrate these guys better.

[4] Here's another and not altogether untypical instance of the need for better editing, p. 218: 'The eclaireurs of the Guard was a corps of cavalry eclaireurs of the French Imperial Guard...' Come on! Such redundant tautology shouldn't reach the printed page.

NB You may notice that I'm rather interested in the Eclaireurs! I was looking forward to learning more about them. And I did. But I was also deeply disappointed not to find better images of them.

Book Review: Seven Men of Gascony, R. F. Delderfield

NB: Another one of my occasional archival updates. This was originally written around 2014, but then forgotten about. Posting it now after a thread on TMP about Napoleonic historical fiction made me think of it again.

Delderfield was primarily a novelist, famed for being the author of A Horseman Riding By and other such works, from around the middle of the 20th century. I was loaned Seven Men of Gascony by a friend of my dads, when I was around 11-12 years old, who knew I was passionate about Napoleonic history.

I really enjoyed it back then. So much so, in fact, that I also borrowed and read one of the author's contemporary romances, Diana. All these years later, and I find myself getting back into Napoleonic history. I've now read several other books by Delderfield, all factual and all on Napoleonic subjects, The March of the Twenty-Six, about Napoleon's Marshals, and Napoleon in Love (no explanation necessary!) being the most recent.

Another of Delderfield's non-fiction Napoleonic works.

Returning to things one loved as a child can be hit and miss. But on this occasion I'm relieved to find that I still enjoy reading this. Having recently read Tolstoy's much lauded epic War And Peace, as well as Thackeray's Vanity Fair, it's nice to read fictionalised history of the era told from a French perspective (the characters being French, that is, the author was very much an Englishman), plus this is very much easy-reading compared with Tolstoy (and perhaps even Thackeray?).

That Delderfield was steeped in the history of the period is very obvious. Anyone who's read any of the many Napoleonic memoirs, of which there are an abundance, will recognise numerous tableaux, woven into this well told tale. 

Delderfield is an intelligent, articulate, old fashioned writer, and, as just mentioned, very well informed on his subject, which makes this an enjoyable read. Sure, it's not part of the canon of great literature, like War and Peace, but it's a much easier read, taking itself seriously enough, but not too seriously (a harsher way to say the same thing is that Tolstoy is deeper, but Delderfield is less pompous), and at times even as reflective on deeper themes as Tolstoy liked to continually remind us he or his characters were.

Chortle!

One of my main areas of interest in the Napoleonic era at present is Russia, 1812, and Delderfield's characters pass through this appalling episode, giving the reader some very evocative and memorable scenes. Delderfield rather cleverly structures the book as a whole around the major rivers in each theatre: we start under the heading of The Danube, during which episodes the protagonists pass through the Austrian campaign of 1809 (Aspern-Essling, etc.); The Tagus covers events in Portugal and Spain; The Niemen is the central-European bridge into Russia; the Elster finds the voltigeurs we're following retreating through Prussia; and the final river is The Sambre, where the books reaches it's conclusions. There's even a section called The Otter, in which the 'file' of soldiers wind up as prisoners in the south of England!

The River Otter. 

One senses that Delderfield includes something of himself in the character of Gabriel, who's the most fully-realised actor in the story. The others, mostly the titular 'Seven Men of Gascony', but also Napoleon, various Marshals, commanders and others, including Nicholette, a cantiniere, are colourfully drawn, but in a fairly simplistic way. I haven't read any Bernard Cornwall yet, but as far as my limited knowledge of historical fiction goes (mainly limited to Cadfael and Flashman at present), this is a good solid read, and will be of most appeal to those like myself with a 'thing' for Napoleonic history.

In conclusion, the overall story itself is a brisk, breezy, easy read, albeit that the tale it tells is far more arduous than is the experience of reading about it. Not a golden work of literary genius, perhaps, but good solid fun, with the added benefit of being told from the French side for once.

The author.

Book Review: Napoleon's Elite Cavalry, Rousselot/Ryan.

This slightly larger than A-4 sized hardback is really beautiful. I picked up my copy at Partizan, 2019, from (?), for £15. 91 colour plates by Lucien Rousselot are beautifully reproduced, each accompanied by a short text by Edward Ryan. Sourced from the famous Anne S. K. Brown collection, in the U.S, plate one depicts Napoleon, after which there come four groups: the Guard Chausseurs a Cheval (27 plates), Guard Grenadiers a Cheval (13), Guard Empress Dragoons (25), and Guard Lancers (25).

Polish Lancers looking very dandy.

More dourly attired in bivouac. Still looking great!

So, whilst there's wealth of fabulous artwork, and immense amounts of uniform info' to be gleaned, this is not a comprehensive look at either Rousselot's work, nor even the cavalry of the Imperial Guard (never mind the French cavalry as a whole). As such, this is quite a specialist book. But for Napoleonic uniform addicts like me, particularly those who dig the French the most (me again!), this sort of thing is, well... essential!

The day I bought this, I took it to bed with me - that's how much I love this sort of stuff! - and it gave me several hours of intense pleasure. And all I was doing was perusing the illustrations, with a little bit of reference to the text, where particular images prompted curiosity. The multitude of images makes one doubly or trebly aware of what an enormous and complex, as well as endlessly fascinating, subject Napoleonic uniformology is.

Old Guard Chasseurs a Cheval.

Young Guard Chasseurs a Cheval.

On that first night of bliss, I only studied the first segment of images; the twenty-seven given over to the Guard Chausseurs a Cheval. Looking at the incredible paintings made me realise that, ideally, I'd like to have several versions of any given regiment, in my miniatures collections. For example, one iteration might have their pelisse worn 'properly', i.e. not in the dandy over the shoulder manner of the hussar, whilst another set might be wearing their two-tiered capes, with covers on their sabretache and busbys unadorned. 

I imagine some of these options may be covered in certain scales, most probably more so in larger scales. But they're certainly not options, at least that I'm aware of, in the scales in which I'm building forces, which are 6mm and 10mm. This prompts me to consider something I've long toyed with: sculpting and casting my own figures! I'd sooo love to do this. It's been an ambition since fairly early childhood. Perhaps this book will be the catalyst that galvanises me into action?

Trumpeters of the Empress' Dragoons, looking incredibly natty!

Or perhaps not? Witness the piles of unpainted French and Russian hordes. I struggle to get anything done half the time. Never mind ambitious stuff. It's so easy to think of great plans on the sofa. Getting up and putting them into action? Well, that's a whole 'nother ball game!

Any road, the book itself ends with this beautiful sabretache, on the back cover. Like the thing it depicts, this book is, to me at least, a precious and wonderful thing.

The End!

Book Review: Napoleon's Imperial Guard, The Infantry, Paul Dawson.

This is part one of a two part Uniforms and Equipment series from Frontline publishing, an imprint of Pen & Sword, by Paul L. Dawson. A deluxe hardback, copiously illustrated with both contemporary art depicting the Infantry of Napoleon's famous Imperial Guard, and superbly photographed original artefacts, covering weapons, uniforms and other equipment of this legendary elite formation.

Together these two volumes will make an indispensable new resource for those interested/obsessed with the history of this most colourful and exciting era. The level of detail is, frankly, astonishing. Occasionally even rather exhausting, if I'm honest. And yet I find myself strangely and magnetically drawn to it all, even down to the minutiae of what appear to be translations of original manuals of regulations and suchlike.

Mind-boggling minutiae!

I have to confess that I baulk a little at the obsessive detail of the many tables of various types of data, which cover all sorts of things, from the numbers, names and ranks of individuals within given units, to the expenditure on various types of cloths or garments. Having said this, the deeper one delves into these subjects, the more such facts become, pardon the pun, part of the very fabric of history itself.

I love the illustrations, both the colour plates of beautiful old artworks depicting the peacock finery of these venerable French warriors, and the numerous photos of their gear, which exert an almost talismanic power, communicating across the ages a strong whiff of gunpowder, sweat, blood and the many soils over which Bonaparte's legions tramped, from the sands of North Africa to the Steppes of Russia.

Wow! What fab gear!

Artist and illustrator Keith Rocco, who many will associate with the American Civil War, thanks to his copious output of artworks covering that conflict, has been commissioned to produce new works for these two books, and they feature both on the front and back covers of the books, and in their own dedicated sections in the centre of the volume. These are superb, needless to say. And they help impart a real sense of the de-luxe, as befits a book about elite units such as the Imperial Guard.

Sadly this first volume - I eagerly await the second, on the Cavalry of the Guard - does suffer from the lack of editorial finesse that sometimes bedevils such specialist or niche areas of publishing as military history. Some examples of this include the usage of specialist terminology that isn't explained (or if it is, it's explained elsewhere in the book, and that explanation is not easily found), or such bloopers as the rear dust-jacket blurb describing this as a 'guide to the dress, weapons and accruements [sic*] of the cavalry [!] elements  of the most famous formation of the Napoleonic Wars'.

Lots of lovely illustrations!

Nonetheless, this is a fantastic resource for the Napoleonic history buff, and an essential addition to the library of those who, like me, are obsessed with this period of history. I can't wait to see the Cavalry volume!

---

* Presumably the intended word here was accoutrements?

Misc: 100 Posts In 2019!

This post is the one-hundredth of 2019. That's the most posts in any one year so far, since I started in 2014. And there's still one-third of the year left. So I'm in pretty good shape for a bumper year of blogging. It also seems to me like a good moment to take stock. What have I achieved, both in blogging and more generally? Am I happy with what I'm doing? And all that sort of thing.

A new display case, with dust-busting glass front! [1]

My motley selection of wings. Just two are actually completed.

First off, however, a word on my 54mm Napoleonics, as they've been my latest practical hands-on modelling project. I've more or less finished the three Frenchies, pictured in the next section of the post, below. But I have yet to even make a start on the two British figures. I have a feeling that I'll be taking a break from 54mm figures for a spell, and getting into my languishing 6mm and 10mm 1812 armies. That's an area I'm less happy about; the inactivity on that (Eastern) front!

One noteworthy development of 2019 was an invitation to review for Pen & Sword. I've been an Amazon Vine reviewer for a number of years. But, rather annoyingly, and despite getting lots of great stuff, almost none of it has been related to my mini-military interests. Andrew Roberts Napoleon The Great, for example, was given out to some Vine reviewers. But not, alas, to me. I love being part of the Vine program, But that really galls me! I wouldn't be surprised if I was amongst the most history and Napoleon obsessed of their reviewers! Hey ho...

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But afore I go any further, yesterday's and today's activity, modelling wise, was further work on my 54mm Nap's: I did a tiny bit of touching up here and there, including some gloss varnish followed with washes (braid, horses mane, that sort of stuff), and a couple of coats of matt varnish. This time, with the latter I managed to be a bit more patient and methodical, thereby avoiding the dreaded clouding.

Rosewood bases, masked, ready for Milliput 'soil' to be added.

The pictures immediately above and below show the other thing I did yesterday, which is beginning the basing. I cut the bases from Indian Rosewood, on my bandsa and a hole cutting bit. They required quite a bit of sanding, and the circular ones needed the central drill-holes left by the hole-cutting bits  filling. I then masked a 5mm band around all the bases, built up Milliput 'earth', and tidied it with various tools so it follows the edge masking.

Figures on their bases, Milliput and gravel earth built up.

Scenic gravel and stones were then added, after which I marked mounting points from the base of each model, using the wire I'd glued into the feet/legs of each figure to mark the positions of the desired holes. I used a pin-vise drill through the still soft-ish Milliput and the wooden bases, which worked fine. Once the models were pinned in, and pressed into the Milliput, I used some liquid superglue to secure the models and the gravel in situ.

I'll let them dry and harden overnight, and start in on painting tomorrow. If poss', I'll add grass then as well... we shall see!

A different view. Grenadier's scabbards fell off!

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Note tiny hole drilled into grognard's left buttock.

Well, it's now 'tomorrow' today, and I've painted the 'earth', and added some more gravel. I also attached the Guard Grenadier's scabbards with a tiny little metal pin, as they'd fallen off two or three times, and I was getting fed up with gluing them back on, especially as it entailed repainting that whole area, the gluing process having messed up the paintwork.

Scabbards superglued into position. Will this do the trick?

I'm now letting everything sit awhile, myself included, as I type this. And then it'll be time to add some grass. Think I might watch a YouTube vid or two on the subject first, to see how to go about it! I seem to recall folk using diluted wood glue... let's find out!

Bases ready for the addition of grass.

All of this recent stuff, WWII vehicles, planes, 54mm figures, book reviews, are digressions from my 6mm and 10mm Russia 1812 stuff. But there's no sign of any let up, and I'm tending to go with the flow. After all, this whole mallarkey is, for me, chiefly about allowing myself self-indulgent pleasure. And it's doing that aplenty.

A recent trip to Ely inevitably found me furtively sneaking into the City Cycle Centre model department. They've rearranged their stock (again!), and now have some models by a brand that's new to me, Forces of Valour. I decided I'd check out their King Tiger model, as I've been wanting to build a version of this mighty metal monster Sorcifically done out in the obscure but fascinating 'octopus' camo' scheme.

I think this might be my next build...

And this is the camo' scheme I intend for her.

In the meantime, however, I'm still working on basing my French Napoleonic dudes. Here are few pics showing how that's progressing. The plastic bottle with extra holes in the top is a home-made 'static grass' dispenser, based on an idea I've seen online; you simply shake the container vigorously, and both it and the grass being plastics, some static ought to be imparted to the latter. I did an A/B test on two bits of cork. The one at left had the static bottle treatment, the one at right didn't. I can see no discernible difference!

A small plastic bottle destined to become a static grass dispenser.

First use of my recently acquired Dremel-type tool, drilling yon holes.

Left treated, right untreated... hmm!? They look identical to me.

A first covering with grassy stuff (mixture of flock 'n' static).

Forward focus on same bases.

A liberal second covering, prior to 'shakedown'.

In researching basing I've learned a fair bit by simply watching a number of YouTube videos, some of which I already knew, such as flock and static grass being two different things, some of which I didn't; commercially available static grass dispensers are very expensive! One of the videos, by model railway scenery builder extraordinaire Luke Towan, shows how to make your own DIY dispenser. I think I'll be doing that at some point! In the meantime, I tried to emulate the Noch brand plastic bottle static grass dispenser, as chronicled above. Not sure if that was worth doing or not yet...

The bases unmasked.

Viewed more fully, models 'n' all.

Anyway, as with much of this stuff, one can continue fussing and finagling without end. I got my 54mm (or 1/32) models to a point now that I consider more of less finished. As pictured above, I've removed the masking, and I'm pleased with the overall results. I made a conscious decision, partially motivated my laziness, perhaps? to keep the bases blocky and simple. I could've routed ornate profiles (probably would've gone with an ogee). But I thought the grain of the wood is beautiful, and by keeping them simple I could make more of that.

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To conclude this 100th post, I return to more general thoughts.

What have I achieved with this blog? Well, sharing my work with the world at large is definitely a type of motivation, and it's great to get some feedback. I'd certainly like more followers and a lot more comments [2]. I hope that'll come as I continue. I reckon I need to get more into following other bloggers as well. I did more of that when I started blogging. Indeed, that's a large part of what got me started. As with YouTube, other people's blogs are a great resource/inspiration.

More generally, I've drifted away from my 6mm and 10mm Russia 1812 projects, and gotten more into 1/72 kit builds of late, and book reviews, which is all fine 'n' dandy in itself, but... I definitely do very much want to get back in the saddle in those areas. I'm also slowly getting better at finishing things off. It's certainly easier, I find, to finish hand painted stuff, as I still feel that I'm an airbrushing novice.

Military movies remain an interest, although finding decent ones is getting trickier, as I've now watched an awful lot of the better known more mainstream ones. Recent viewing has run the full gamut from the sublime to the ridiculous, 1864 being of the former, and The Battle for Warsaw the latter. It seems from viewer stats that my film reviews are of less interest to readers of the blog than other content. But as I'm really into it, I'll continue posting them.  I still need to work out how to code a dynamic hot-link 'picture wall' for the movies page.

Books remain a constant interest, with much reading and reviewing. Now that I'm getting stuff from Pen & Sword it's hard to keep up with these two activities and yet not get burned out. I try to hop around between types and titles, to prevent exhaustion. Sometimes things serendipitously connect, as when Philip Warner's excellent Anglo-centric D-Day book (my review here), from P&S, makes an excellent companion to Stephen Ambrose's much more American focussed D-Day, which I picked up in a charity shop for £1.50!

And the bookish and filmic stuff occasionally intersects, as when reading on the Bismarck (review here) and watching Sink The Bismarck. Or, whilst reading the above-mentioned D-Day books, watching the really rather excellent Ike, Countdown to D-Day, in which the rather unlikely casting of Tom Selleck as Ike actually comes off really well.

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NOTES:

[1] This supplants my home-made pair of glass-less shelves. Models on those got very dusty. I found this shelving unit dumped on the roadside. It was a very lurid bright pink originally! So I stripped/sanded and painted it, and it'll serve me well. Though I do need more glass shelves and shelf support pegs.

[2] One thing I occasionally do with this in mind is post on TMP, The Miniatures Page, another source of inspiration and information. And I do find that does help drive a little more traffic to my blog. But nowhere near as much as I'd like!