Rupert Furneaux – författare

The Grand Strategy, the imaginative plan to divide the rebellious American colonies, ended in disaster. On October 17, 1777, General Sir John Burgoyne, alone, unaided and stranded in the American wilderness, capitulated with his army at Saratoga in upper New York State. It was the ‘turning point’ of the Revolution, which culminated four years later in the British surrender at Yorktown. Creasy wrote of Saratoga: ‘Nor can any military event be said to have exercised more important influence upon the future fortunes of mankind…’

Who blundered? For nearly two centuries, Lord George Germain, the ‘maladroit’ minister, has been blamed, together with the Commander-in-Chief, Sir William Howe; but Burgoyne, ‘Gentleman Johnny’ as his affectionate troops called him, has largely escaped criticism.

Only in the late 1960s had a full assessment become possible, by the publication of all the correspondence that passed between these men. Originally published in 1971, from his study of these letters, and by his visit to the campaign area, author Rupert Furneaux questions this long accepted view.

The British disaster resulted, he says, not because anyone particularly blundered, or from any ‘pigeon-holed’ despatch, but rather because no one bargained that thousands of ordinary American citizens would rally to bar Burgoyne’s path. Experienced frontier-fighters and skilled marksmen, they mowed down the closely-ranked Redcoats and the German mercenaries, who had all been trained for European battles. Saratoga heralded a new age of warfare, which Europeans took another hundred years to learn. It was also far more than a British defeat; it was an American victory, the decisive battle whereby they won the right to run their own lives without interference from Europe – and with incalculable consequences.

The Grand Strategy, the imaginative plan to divide the rebellious American colonies, ended in disaster. On October 17, 1777, General Sir John Burgoyne, alone, unaided and stranded in the American wilderness, capitulated with his army at Saratoga in upper New York State. It was the ‘turning point’ of the Revolution, which culminated four years later in the British surrender at Yorktown. Creasy wrote of Saratoga: ‘Nor can any military event be said to have exercised more important influence upon the future fortunes of mankind…’

Who blundered? For nearly two centuries, Lord George Germain, the ‘maladroit’ minister, has been blamed, together with the Commander-in-Chief, Sir William Howe; but Burgoyne, ‘Gentleman Johnny’ as his affectionate troops called him, has largely escaped criticism.

Only in the late 1960s had a full assessment become possible, by the publication of all the correspondence that passed between these men. Originally published in 1971, from his study of these letters, and by his visit to the campaign area, author Rupert Furneaux questions this long accepted view.

The British disaster resulted, he says, not because anyone particularly blundered, or from any ‘pigeon-holed’ despatch, but rather because no one bargained that thousands of ordinary American citizens would rally to bar Burgoyne’s path. Experienced frontier-fighters and skilled marksmen, they mowed down the closely-ranked Redcoats and the German mercenaries, who had all been trained for European battles. Saratoga heralded a new age of warfare, which Europeans took another hundred years to learn. It was also far more than a British defeat; it was an American victory, the decisive battle whereby they won the right to run their own lives without interference from Europe – and with incalculable consequences.

First published in 1963, Massacre at Amritsar recreates the terrible scene of the Jallianwala Bagh from the stories of eyewitnesses and survivors. General Dyer’s action at Amritsar on April 13, 1919 flared up into one of the most heated political and moral controversies of 20th century. Was he right in firing without warning on the group which had gathered in defiance of his orders? And in continuing to fire after they had started to disperse? Did he thereby save Punjab from worse bloodshed, and all India, perhaps, from a second Mutiny? Or did he commit a cold-blooded, purposeless massacre, for which no excuse was possible?

The Army, which had condoned his act on his first explanation, could not stomach his arrogant replies at the enquiry. The Government of India described Dyer’s act as ‘monstrous.’ And perhaps more than any other single factor the massacre consolidated Indian opinion behind the campaign for independence. Yet a large section of the British public backed Dyer; a huge subscription was raised for him, and the House of Lords exonerated him. This book examines the circumstances that led up to the massacre and the deplorable actions that followed it and offers a new solution to the enigma of Dyer’s mind, making it an important read for students of history, South Asian studies, area studies and for the people of any erstwhile colonized nation.

First published in 1963, Massacre at Amritsar recreates the terrible scene of the Jallianwala Bagh from the stories of eyewitnesses and survivors. General Dyer’s action at Amritsar on April 13, 1919 flared up into one of the most heated political and moral controversies of 20th century. Was he right in firing without warning on the group which had gathered in defiance of his orders? And in continuing to fire after they had started to disperse? Did he thereby save Punjab from worse bloodshed, and all India, perhaps, from a second Mutiny? Or did he commit a cold-blooded, purposeless massacre, for which no excuse was possible?

The Army, which had condoned his act on his first explanation, could not stomach his arrogant replies at the enquiry. The Government of India described Dyer’s act as ‘monstrous.’ And perhaps more than any other single factor the massacre consolidated Indian opinion behind the campaign for independence. Yet a large section of the British public backed Dyer; a huge subscription was raised for him, and the House of Lords exonerated him. This book examines the circumstances that led up to the massacre and the deplorable actions that followed it and offers a new solution to the enigma of Dyer’s mind, making it an important read for students of history, South Asian studies, area studies and for the people of any erstwhile colonized nation.

First published in 1968, The Bourbon Tragedy marks the fall of the ancient French monarchy on August 10, 1792. The Bourbon Royal Family was imprisoned in the tower of the Temple, a dark, medieval dungeon. The following January Louis XVI was taken out, tried and guillotined, and later Marie Antoinette too. Their two children, the Dauphin, a boy of eight, and his fourteen-year-old sister, were shut up alone. Eventually, in 1795, the girl was released to her mother’s Austrian relatives in exchange for eight French prisoners. She survived to ride at her uncle’s side at the Bourbon Restoration which followed the defeat of Napoleon. The boy’s fate is a mystery. Officially Louis Charles died on June 8, 1795, but it was later claimed by a series of Pretenders to the French throne that the boy who died in the Temple was not the Dauphin, but a dumb boy, dying of scrofula, who had been substituted for him. They may have been right: the little phantom King may have been rescued and, in this case, what happened to him? Was one of these claimants truly the Dauphin?

Rupert Furneaux discusses this intriguing problem in a book which tells the intimate, tragic story of the captivity and fate of the whole Bourbon family in the French Revolution. This book will be of interest to students of French history, war history, literature, philosophy as well as to any casual reader interested in the mysteries of history.

First published in 1968, The Bourbon Tragedy marks the fall of the ancient French monarchy on August 10, 1792. The Bourbon Royal Family was imprisoned in the tower of the Temple, a dark, medieval dungeon. The following January Louis XVI was taken out, tried and guillotined, and later Marie Antoinette too. Their two children, the Dauphin, a boy of eight, and his fourteen-year-old sister, were shut up alone. Eventually, in 1795, the girl was released to her mother’s Austrian relatives in exchange for eight French prisoners. She survived to ride at her uncle’s side at the Bourbon Restoration which followed the defeat of Napoleon. The boy’s fate is a mystery. Officially Louis Charles died on June 8, 1795, but it was later claimed by a series of Pretenders to the French throne that the boy who died in the Temple was not the Dauphin, but a dumb boy, dying of scrofula, who had been substituted for him. They may have been right: the little phantom King may have been rescued and, in this case, what happened to him? Was one of these claimants truly the Dauphin?

Rupert Furneaux discusses this intriguing problem in a book which tells the intimate, tragic story of the captivity and fate of the whole Bourbon family in the French Revolution. This book will be of interest to students of French history, war history, literature, philosophy as well as to any casual reader interested in the mysteries of history.