The Shadow of Great Britain

For such a meticulous writer capable of influencing historical memory, Imperial Publishing, which has always supported the principle of rigorously restoring historical truth, decisively took action. Chairman of the board, Sir Arthur Hastings, not only welcomed Colonel Napier as a distinguished guest but also took over the subsequent volumes’ publication of the ”Peninsula War History” without regard to cost after the original publisher withdrew due to poor market response.

Of course, although Sir Arthur is the chairman of Imperial Publishing, he cannot act unilaterally in the company. In taking over ”Peninsula War History,” he received strong support from company director Mr. Benjamin Disraeli.

Mr. Disraeli’s actions were certainly not because he disliked money, nor because of reciprocating Arthur’s past support; it was purely personal vendetta.

Because the original publisher of ”Peninsula War History,” John Murray, was the culprit in Disraeli’s first bankruptcy. Although Arthur is unaware of the internal affairs, at least Disraeli himself has always believed that had he not been influenced by Murray back then and impulsively started a paper with him, he wouldn’t be in debt now. Furthermore, after anonymously publishing ”Vivian Grey” to mock Murray, Disraeli was chased by Murray’s publishing industry connections, almost leading to his ruin.

Therefore, for Disraeli, as long as the matter involves John Murray, the founder of the ”Quarterly Review,” the publisher of Byron, Jane Austen, Coleridge, and other heavyweight English authors, and this autocratic monarch in the English publishing world, making money becomes irrelevant.

It can even be said that the reason why Disraeli continues to battle on the frontline of Imperial Publishing is not only to earn money to pay off debts but also in hopes of one day teaching Murray a lesson.

However, Mr. William Napier apparently does not know the various backgrounds behind Imperial Publishing’s strong support for him.

In his view, this conscientious publishing company, as they claim, is not just a commercial enterprise but also carries many historical missions.

The person with the most sense of historical responsibility in this company was standing inside the Dover breakwater at the time, with his cape buttoned meticulously, yet his demeanor didn’t appear solemn.

Arthur’s gaze did not fall on the French warship slowly approaching from afar, but rather on Colonel Napier by his side.

To say, though Napier’s brothers and cousins were all illustrious, this doesn’t mean Napier himself was some idle noble son.

Napier himself participated in the Peninsular War. Before heading to Spain, his uncle, the Duke of Richmond, originally secured him a position as a flagbearer in the Royal Guard Cavalry Regiment, both prestigious and without direct face of war threat. However, eager for achievements, Napier quickly applied to enlist in the 52nd Regiment (Minister Rowan’s old unit) and soon transferred to the 43rd Regiment as a company commander.

During the Peninsular War, Napier was wounded multiple times. During the Battle of Casanova, he was shot in the spine, and due to severe injuries, he had to return to England to recuperate, where he wed amidst sporadic engagements. Shortly after, he volunteered to return to Spain, participating in the Siege of Badajoz, Battle of Salamanca, Nive River campaign, Nevele battle, and the counterattack into France’s Battle of Toulouse, and was wounded twice during this period.

Perhaps it was Soult’s visit that stirred Napier’s war memories; the old gentleman seemed in high spirits today, even his back, usually less straight due to gun wounds, appeared considerably tougher.

Napier, pointing at the French warship about to dock, smiled and began recounting his connection with Soult to Arthur: ”During the Nevele battle, our opponent was Marshal Soult. At that time, my 43rd Regiment was part of the Light Infantry Division. The Duke of Wellington tasked us with capturing the French fortifications on the Lune Mountain ridge. We first took a night march to the Great Lune Mountain summit, then quietly descended to the ravine before Little Lune Mountain, crouching there awaiting the attack order. That night was cold, not the damp cold of England, but a dry cold, where stepping on stones made a crisp sound. We hardly spoke along the way, even suppressing coughs. There were no lights on the ridge; the French assumed the steep terrain would prevent a night assault and, with the pressure from the Duke on the front, set sentries sparsely. This was another old flaw of Soult; he trusted the terrain too much.”

Arthur laughed and echoed: ”Perhaps you can point that out to him face to face later. But before you fight him, I’d still like to hear the rest of the situation from back then.”

Napier laughed heartily: ”We lay in the hills for a long time until the sky started to brighten, and we saw a flash of fire from the main position, followed by the rumbling of cannon fire, which was the agreed signal for attack from His Grace. Once I received the signal, I immediately started organizing a charge, and soon saw the actions of the 52nd and 95th Regiments begin as well. Once you start charging forward, your mind goes blank, eyes only see the slope before you, ears only hear breathing, and you feel nothing but the rifle on your shoulder. When the front line fell, we hardly realized they were shot, just felt something was suddenly missing ahead.”