The sev­enth chap­ter of “Men, Women, and Ghosts” by Amy Low­ell unfolds with a vivid con­trast of qui­et coun­try life against the back­drop of his­tor­i­cal tur­moil and war. The nar­ra­tive tran­si­tions from an idyl­lic, albeit aban­doned, Eng­lish estate where ros­es bloom amongst ruins, to the indus­tri­ous sounds of ship­build­ing in Frinds­bury, Kent, in 1786. The detailed descrip­tions of ship con­struc­tion along­side the live­ly tales of work­ers like Jem Wil­son and Stephen Pibold breathe life into the oth­er­wise mechan­i­cal process. The ship, cel­e­brat­ed and launched amidst fan­fare, is a sym­bol of British pride and crafts­man­ship, des­tined for naval glo­ry.

Tran­si­tion­ing to Paris in March 1814, the atmos­phere changes dra­mat­i­cal­ly. The city, under occu­pa­tion, reflects a tense blend of dai­ly life and the dis­man­tling of Napoleon’s empire. Mar­tin, the par­fumeur, reluc­tant­ly removes sym­bols of the empire from his shop under the new regime’s orders, sig­ni­fy­ing a broad­er cul­tur­al and polit­i­cal shift. Despite the sub­dued occu­pa­tion, there’s a resilient pulse in the Parisians’ dis­dain for their occu­piers, under­scor­ing the endur­ing spir­it beneath the sur­face com­pli­ance.

By April 1814, the nar­ra­tive mourns the phys­i­cal era­sure of Napoleon’s vic­to­ries from the tri­umphal arch of the Place du Car­rousel. The scene is charged with emo­tion, illus­trat­ing the pub­lic’s silent protest through the eyes of the old Grenadier and the despair­ing crowd. This act of remov­ing inscrip­tions is a metaphor for the wider attempt to erase the impact of Napoleon’s rule from France’s mem­o­ry, met with resis­tance and sor­row from the pop­u­lace.

Final­ly, in June 1815, the focus shifts to Crois­sy, Ile-de-France, where a far­ri­er, a black­smith, and a retired Sergeant rem­i­nisce about past glo­ries and cur­rent dis­il­lu­sions post-Water­loo. Their con­ver­sa­tion reveals a deep-seat­ed nos­tal­gia for the Napoleon­ic era and a dis­dain for the present state of affairs, reflect­ing broad­er soci­etal sen­ti­ments of loss and change. The unex­pect­ed arrival of an urgent mes­sage, hint­ing at Napoleon’s final efforts to escape, adds a lay­er of imme­di­a­cy and sus­pense, high­light­ing the ongo­ing tur­moil and the rapid pace of his­tor­i­cal events.

This chap­ter, through its var­ied set­tings and char­ac­ters, illus­trates the imme­di­ate and lin­ger­ing impacts of war and polit­i­cal upheaval on both grand and per­son­al scales. The nar­ra­tive threads con­nect the loss of indi­vid­ual iden­ti­ties and the grandeur of past tri­umphs to the pre­sen­t’s uncer­tain­ty, cap­tured through evoca­tive imagery and the last­ing echoes of lost glo­ry.