Between 1808 and 1830, the Whigs made a remarkable transition from opposition to office that highlights important trends in early Nineteenth-Century Britain. The Whig Revival examines how a coalition between provincial interest groups and the parliamentary party established them as a viable governing party by 1830. Where earlier studies have focused on the Whigs experience in government or liberal reform movements, this work examines their years in opposition and how the struggle for power broadened the political nation beyond metropolitan elites.

Despite the 1800 Act of Union, Ireland was not an integral part of the United Kingdom. Its viceregal government, the breadth and depth of its poverty, and the extent, persistence, and savagery of peasant violence marked it as distinct. This distinction was emphasized by Ireland's Protestant ascendancy in an overwhelmingly Catholic population. In his examination of British administration in Ireland from 1812 to 1830, Brian Jenkins focuses on the Catholic issue which dominated Britain's Irish agenda during this period. He argues that the British government attempted, within the context of the time, to govern Ireland in a civilized and enlightened way.

Throughout history rulers have used clothes as a form of legitimization and propaganda. While palaces, pictures, and jewels might reflect the choice of a monarch’s predecessors or advisers, clothes reflected the preferences of the monarch himself. Being both personal and visible, the right costume at the right time could transform and define a monarch’s reputation. Many royal leaders have known this, from Louis XIV to Catherine the Great and from Napoleon I to Princess Diana. This intriguing book explores how rulers have sought to control their image through their appearance. Mansel shows how individual styles of dress throw light on the personalities of particular monarchs, on their court system, and on their ambitions. The book looks also at the economics of the costume industry, at patronage, at the etiquette involved in mourning dress, and at the act of dressing itself. Fascinating glimpses into the lives of European monarchs and contemporary potentates reveal the intimate connection between power and the way it is packaged.

The events which unfolded south of Brussels on 18 June 1815 conferred instant immortality on those who took part in them. For the Duke of Wellington, Waterloo consummated victory in a long battle for what he considered to be his due recognition. Whilst he guarded that reputation jealously, he also jeopardised it by his decision to enter politics in what proved to be an especially partisan age. Even the outpouring of national grief which accompanied his death in 1852 could not totally obscure the ambivalence he had aroused in life.The memory of Waterloo, meanwhile, followed its own trajectory. Travellers initially flocked to the battlefield as if drawn by a magnet. What the triumph meant for Britain, and the wider world, moreover, became a battle in itself, one fought variously in the political, literary and artistic theatres of war. As the nineteenth century advanced, it was only Waterloo’s less-exalted participants who, relatively, faded from view – or were ignored.Drawing on many under-utilised sources to illuminate some less familiar themes, this timely study offers fresh perspectives on one of Britain’s best-known figures, as well as on the nature of heroism. The reader is also given pause for thought as to appropriate forms of commemoration and how national celebrations are prone to manipulation, for their own purposes, by those in government.