The Second Funeral of Napoleon

In this sharp‑witted essay, a nameless correspondent writes to a beloved confidante about the strange spectacle of Napoleon’s second funeral—an imagined exhumation on St. Helena that becomes a springboard for a broader meditation on history itself. The narrator’s voice, unmistakably Thackeray’s blend of irony and moral curiosity, playfully questions whether we should venerate the great or dismiss them as mere footnotes. Through lively analogies—sheep‑skin volumes, grocers named Greenacre, and the ever‑present fig‑leaf—he sketches a world where public robes mask private realities.

The work unfolds as a series of digressive, conversational essays that peel back the layers of pomp and pretense, exposing the human frailty beneath the banners of pride, virtue, and humility. Readers are invited to join the author’s witty critique of scholars, textbooks, and the comfortable myths that shape our understanding of the past. All the while, the prose retains a warm, intimate tone, making the lofty ideas feel like a private chat over tea.