Like all wars, the Napoleonic Wars were anything but a uniform experience. Their character varied over time, and from place to place. Some elements of the conflicts looked back to the past, while others seemed to foreshadow the practices of later years. The opposing powers operated in different ways and even articulated different sets of rules for themselves. And of course all these differences subsequently informed a wide range of writing about the wars. The challenge for historians, then, is twofold: first, to give as complete a description as possible of the range of experiences, highlighting their differences, nuances and complexities; but secondly, to venture the best possible generalisations about the experiences as a whole, trying to discern overall patterns and tendencies.

The task of generalisation can be difficult, particularly when it comes to the relationship between civilians and war. In the Napoleonic period, at one extreme, we have the horrors of the Peninsular War: whole villages torched in retribution for guerrilla attacks; civilian hostages taken and killed by brutal occupation authorities; soldiers seized and tortured to death by non-uniformed fighters. But at the other extreme, there was the rather idyllic treatment meted out to the imprisoned French officers studied by Mark Towsey, where the only instruments of torture in sight seem to have been grilled sheep's head, haggis and hodge-podge, their administration eased by the copious helpings of whiskey that generous Scottish hosts pressed upon their continental visitors.