Arthur Wellesley, the Duke of Wellington, spent a lot of time worrying about whether Napoleon Bonaparte, the emperor of France, was a gentleman. Napoleon accused his English foe of being a coward. Yet, Andrew Roberts shows in this dual biography, each accorded the other an odd respect, and, like wrestlers in a ring, studied his foe's moves intently all the way to their fateful encounter at Waterloo. Publicly, Bonaparte and Wellington professed to despise each other. "Even in the boldest things he did there was always a measure of ... meanness," said Wellington of the French emperor, adding later, "Bonaparte's whole life, civil, political, and military, was a fraud." Napoleon said that Wellington "has no courage. He acted out of fear. He had one stroke of fortune, and he knows that such fortune never comes twice." Yet the two, writes Roberts, were very much alike: social outsiders who found their greatness in the army, scholars of a sort, who brought scientific rigor to the study of topography and logistics, and men capable of inspiring great heroism in their soldiers. In the end, Roberts suggests, Wellington won his battle, but Napoleon won the war. This intriguing study shows how, and it affords much insight into the workings of these great rivals' minds. --Gregory McNamee