Betsy and the Emperor

by Anne Whitehead

  William Balcombe noticed that Napoleon now ‘did not disdain to interest himself in the merest trifles’, and told Betsy it was because of his fight with Lowe: ‘My father has often described him as appearing as much absorbed and occupied in the details of some petty squabble with the governor as if the fate of empires had been under discussion. He has often made us laugh with his account of the ridiculous way in which Napoleon spoke of Sir Hudson Lowe; but their disputes were generally on subjects so trivial, that I deem it my duty to draw a veil over these last infirmities of so noble a mind.’9

  On 12 February, Mrs Balcombe and her two daughters came to visit their good friends the Bertrands and were invited to stay a few nights. Fanny was having difficulty breastfeeding her baby and feared she might lose this child too. She craved Mrs Balcombe’s advice and congenial company, and the two girls were helpful with her other children.

  Over at Longwood House, Napoleon attempted to break Gourgaud’s bad mood, which had lasted for days: ‘The Emperor sends for me in the reception room, treats me well, asks for champagne and gives me a glass to drink the health of my mistresses in France’ . . . After hearing that the Misses Balcombe were visiting Bertrand’s cottage, ‘he speaks a good deal about Betsy. “You should have one like her. She is very pretty.”’ Napoleon suggested Gourgaud should go across and invite the Balcombe ladies to dinner.10

  In Betsy’s Recollections she described how they arrived to find Napoleon in the billiard room, ‘employed looking at some very large maps, and moving about a number of pins, some with red heads, others with black. I asked him what he was doing. He replied that he was fighting over again some of his battles, and that the redheaded pins were meant to represent the English, and the black to indicate the French. One of his chief amusements was going through the evolutions of a lost battle, to see if it were possible by any better manoeuvring to have won it.’11

  In the careful notes he was keeping, O’Meara recorded: ‘Mrs and Misses Balcombe arrive at Longwood. I dined with Napoleon in company with them. He was extremely lively and chatty, and displayed a fund of causeries [small talk] rarely to be met with. He instructed Miss Eliza [Betsy] how to play billiards.’12 ‘I had the honour of being initiated into its mysteries by him,’ Betsy recalled, ‘but when tired of my lesson, my amusement consisted in aiming the balls at his fingers, and I was never more pleased than when I succeeded in making him cry out.’13 Napoleon was livelier than he had been for some time; Betsy lifted his spirits. She would be fifteen in October and was turning into a shapely young beauty. He knew from the island gossip that she had a number of admirers: the foppish midshipman George Carstairs; the surly Major Sir Thomas Reade, aged 32; and a more serious suitor in Major Oliver Fehrzen, acting commander of the 53rd Regiment, a year younger than Reade.

  Fehrzen, born at the Cape of Scandinavian stock, was a well-respected officer who had acquitted himself bravely in the Peninsular Campaign under General Sir George Bingham’s command.14 He walked with a slight limp: a musket ball had lodged in his foot during the 1812 Battle of Salamanca. Captured by the French and surviving a botched attempt by one of their surgeons to extricate the ball, he managed to escape despite his wound, and rejoined Wellington’s army.15 Fehrzen was a good conversationalist and in more sociable days had dined several times at Longwood; it was said that Napoleon was always happy to receive him because of ‘his fine presence and engaging manner’.16 O’Meara mentioned that Fehrzen was ‘very clever with his brush, and made many watercolour sketches of Napoleon’.

  Gourgaud had just added himself to the list of Betsy’s gallants; he played billiards with the girls and danced with them, with Madame de Montholon playing the out-of-tune piano: ‘They cause us much enjoyment with their ingenuousness. They constantly style His Majesty as “Monsieur”. His Majesty is more cheerful. We pass into the reception room. Betsy behaves amazingly.’17

  The next day, Gourgaud was invited over to the Bertrands’, which delighted him. But if he had expectations, what were they? To take this young girl as a mistress, which Napoleon had seemed to suggest—if so, an appalling betrayal of his friendship with the Balcombes—or as a wife? In any event, Gourgaud’s hopes were soon dashed: ‘I lunch at the Bertrands’ with the Balcombes. Betsy is going to marry Mr Reade. I play with this young madcap, and at one o’clock return home to work. I give Napoleon Bertrand a lesson in riding. In the distance I see Mr Reade, arm in arm with his loved one, whom he had come to fetch. The Emperor visits the Bertrands. Betsy has everybody running after her.’18

  Bertrand’s journal confirmed that Reade was ‘a known admirer of the young Balcombe lady and that there is some talk of marriage’. He seemed to connect this to Napoleon’s sudden decline in spirits: ‘This evening, while these ladies dance, play the piano and joke at billiards, the Emperor’s demeanour is depressed.’19 Gourgaud also reported that Napoleon was ‘extremely sad and depressed’ that evening. ‘He wants to play chess but can’t, because he is so taken up with his own thoughts . . . The dinner is a sad one. The Emperor asks whether the Balcombes are coming. Montholon replies: “Your Majesty asked them to.” We pass into the reception room and His Majesty asks Madame Montholon to invite the Balcombe girls to lunch tomorrow. But the young ladies refuse the invitation. The Emperor, with a serious air, chats for a moment with Betsy, and then passes into the salon with Bertrand.’20

  The next day, Gourgaud called over the road and learned the girls had declined Napoleon’s invitation because they were being hosted by the Bertrands. ‘The Misses Balcombe lunch with the Grand Marshal. Later, their father and Fehrzen arrive. Betsy makes a thousand advances to Fehrzen. Poor Reade! Fehrzen is fond of me and invites me to shooting and picnic parties. He finds the Emperor very much changed. O’Meara boasts of having lunched with the Emperor. He escorts Madame Montholon to Lady Lowe’s, while the Balcombe family return to the Briars. I go home, very sad at heart, and bored with all this stupid sort of life.’21

  Gourgaud was not the only one cast down by Betsy’s coquetry with the English officers. It is the one indication in sixteen months of friendship with the Balcombes that Napoleon’s interest in Betsy seemed to have become less than platonic. If so, that interest was not acted upon; his declared philosophy was: ‘it is only a question of knowing how to limit one’s desires’.

  (When I visited St Helena, the French consul and Napoleonic scholar Michel Dancoisne-Martineau confirmed to me an episode mentioned by Jean-Paul Kauffmann in The Dark Room at Longwood. In some unpublished notes by the valet Ali, a slave girl was brought to Napoleon. He ordered Ali to take her away, saying: ‘She’s too young!’22 If that girl was too young, perhaps others were not. A few unacknowledged Bonaparte descendants may be walking the streets of Jamestown today.)

  Escorted by the doctor, Mrs Balcombe rode with Albine de Montholon to Plantation House to see a baby that had arrived not only with Governor Lowe’s permission but with his active participation. At the age of 35, Lady Lowe was, to her annoyance, breastfeeding four-month-old Hudson junior. She showed him off to the visitors, and while Albine, who spoke little English, dandled him on her knee, Lady Lowe confided to Mrs Balcombe her irritation with her husband’s obsession with his prisoner. (Sir Hudson often irritated her—she frequently used to say that Sir Thomas Reade was the real governor.23) She said that Bonaparte ‘could not so much as drink a glass of water without it being reported to the governor. She thought such spying ridiculous.’24

  The next afternoon, Mrs Balcombe was back at the Bertrands’ with her daughters and ‘passed an hour in conversation with Napoleon after dinner’.25 She described her indignation at her recent interrogation by Reade. Bertrand noted in his journal: ‘When the Balcombes returned from Longwood, Sir Thomas Reade questioned them on what they had done there, saying it with such impertinence, that Mrs. Balcombe felt obliged to answer that she had not gone there to spy.’26 O’Meara had the same story: ‘I have heard reports that Balcombe had been questioned and scrutinized in every direction by the Governor and
by Reade.’27 The deputy adjutant-general was not exactly endearing himself as a prospective son-in-law—but again, it is probable that his ‘courtship’ of Betsy was a convenient cover to keep watch on the Balcombe family.28

  A ship had brought a bundle of English books for Napoleon, who was still trying to master the language. He showed Betsy a copy of Aesop’s Fables: ‘In one of the fables the sick lion, after submitting with fortitude to the insults of the many animals who came to exult over his fallen greatness, at last received a kick in the face from the ass. “I could have borne every thing but this,” the lion said. Napoleon showed me the wood-cut, and added, “It is me and your governor.”’29

  With her various suitors, Betsy was much talked about on St Helena, but it was not until some European newspapers were delivered that it emerged that she had been briefly the subject of international gossip.

  An extract of a letter by the Marquis de Montchenu to a friend in France had appeared in a December 1816 issue of The Times:

  Buonaparte on his arrival here was long lodged at the house of an inhabitant of the name of Mr Balcomb [sic]. He has a daughter named Betsy who is celebrated for her independent spirit and her wild temper. She is rather handsome; he has appeared fond of her. Chatting with her the other day, I said, ‘Miss, I am not surprised at your speaking French so well—Buonaparte was your teacher. I have been told that you knew how to tame him, and that he was amorous.’

  She replied ‘Oh! You don’t know him at all; he is not gallant enough for that.’

  ‘Very well, what did this pretty hand do then?’

  ‘I gave him a famous cuff, which put him in such a passion that he squeezed my nose, which continued red the whole day.’

  ‘For my part, I should have embraced you’—and I kissed the pretty hand that had cuffed the great man.30

  A more spiteful account of Napoleon’s early sojourn at The Briars, again written by Montchenu, who got it as hearsay (not being on the island at the time himself), was published in the Courrier de Mannheim on 1 November 1816, and reproduced in French newspapers: ‘Bonaparte, since he has been on St Helena, has formed a liaison with the daughter of a notary. This young person is so lively that one could almost believe she is cracked in the head. Bonaparte was alone one day in his room with this young girl (!); she, acting out a fantasy, picked up a sabre that was in the corner, took it out of its scabbard and assumed the posture of a master of arms, and she fell on Bonaparte, crying “Now, defend yourself!” Bonaparte, after having for a minute believed this was a joke, became fearful and hid behind an armchair; and the ex-master of the world cried out for his sentinels to come to his aid. Las Cases, his secretary, reproached the young girl for her conduct, but she answered that Bonaparte really liked it. “He loves me!” she said, laughing. “So let me go! He never really loved anyone, it is not in his nature.”’31

  The article, which also included an insinuating description of Napoleon and Betsy playing Blindman’s Buff, noted that she was Napoleon’s favourite and would tell him everything that passed through her flighty head. She asked him the most untoward questions but he answered them all without hesitation. Montchenu concluded that ‘Miss Betsee’ was the wildest little girl he had ever met and expressed the opinion that she was folle—a madwoman. His account was very damaging to a young lady’s reputation and future prospects. Betsy observed in her Recollections: ‘My father was much enraged at my name thus appearing, and wished to call the marquess to account for his ill nature.’ However, her mother’s intercession prevailed, a duel was averted and ‘an ample apology’ was obtained from the marquis.

  When Napoleon heard of the affront that ‘Miss Betsee’ had received from the ‘vieux imbécile’ (old fool32), he asked O’Meara to call at The Briars with a message for her on his way to Jamestown. He suggested how she might revenge herself: ‘It so happened, that the marquess prided himself on the peculiar fashion of his wig, to which was attached a long cue. This embellishment on his head Napoleon desired me to burn off with caustic. I was always ready for mischief and in this instance had a double inducement, on the emperor’s promise to reward me, on the receipt of the pigtail, with the prettiest fan Mr. Solomon’s shop contained. Fortunately I was prevented indulging in this most hoydenish trick by the remonstrances of my mother.’

  The next time she saw Napoleon, she made much of being too dutiful to disobey her mother, despite her inclination for revenge. ‘He pinched my ear, in token of approval, and said, “Ah, Miss Betsee, tu commences à être sage.”—“You begin to be sensible.” He then called Dr. O’Meara, and asked him if he had procured the fan? The doctor replied that there were none pretty enough. I believe I looked disappointed; on perceiving which, Napoleon, with his usual good nature, consoled me with the promise of something prettier—and he kept his word. In a few days I received a ring of brilliants, forming the letter N, surmounted by a small eagle.’33

  It was almost three weeks before the Balcombe girls saw Napoleon again; their social life had become a flurry of picnics, parties and dances. On 17 February, they attended a ball on the deck of the Newcastle, hosted by Admiral Malcolm and his wife in honour of the third birthday of their son, who remained in England with a nanny. On this flagship the admiral was undeniably in charge and there is no mention of the governor’s presence; perhaps the Lowes were invited but declined. Three days later, the Balcombes hosted a ball and supper at The Briars. The Malcolms of course were there, and General Sir George Bingham with his wife Emma, who had recently arrived on the island. Many officers attended, and the dancing continued until dawn because of the curfew. Betsy danced alternately with Major Reade and Major Fehrzen, and people puzzled their heads over which one she would marry.

  Admiral Malcolm visited Napoleon on 7 March and found him in excellent spirits, reading the English newspapers that had come with the storeship. His comprehension of the language had greatly improved, although he refused to converse in it. They discussed events mentioned in the papers, including recent disturbances in Spanish America. Observing protocol, the admiral called afterwards at Plantation House to report the conversation, and the governor, somewhat mollified, asked him to transcribe it. Malcolm concluded his report by saying that he had never seen Bonaparte ‘so moderate, and judging from his manner I think any indulgence that may be shown him will be acceptable’.34

  It was O’Meara who broke the news at Longwood that Dr William Warden, the surgeon, had published Letters written on board HMS Northumberland and at St Helena, a book about his encounters with the former emperor. The storeship Tortoise had brought newspapers with extracts of the book, and many people on the island were already reading them. Above all things, Napoleon was particular about the cultivation of his legend. ‘What is the nature of the work?’ he demanded. ‘Is it for or against me? Is it well written? What is the subject?’

  O’Meara said it was in his favour, although it contained some curious statements, but also refutations of accusations formerly made against him. Napoleon began reading immediately, ‘asked the explanation of a few passages, [and] said they were true’. O’Meara assisted with the translation and was asked to ‘explain to him three times an article which stated that the Empress Marie Louise had fallen from her horse into the Po, and with difficulty had been saved from a watery grave. He appeared considerably affected by the perusal.’35

  The governor sent up a bound copy of the Warden book for General Bonaparte. The next day, Betsy and her parents, who had been visiting Madame Bertrand, passed by Longwood. ‘I had caught sight of the emperor in his favourite billiard-room, and not being able to resist having a game with him, I listened to no remonstrance, but bounded off, leaving my father in dismay at the consequences likely to ensue. Instead of my anticipated game of throwing about the balls, I was requested to read a book by Dr. Warden, the surgeon of the Northumberland, that had just come out. It was in English, and I had the task of wading through several chapters, and making it as intelligible as my ungrammatical French permitted. Napoleon
was much pleased with Dr. Warden’s book, and said, “his work was a very true one”. I finished reading it to him whilst we remained with Madame Bertrand.’36 (When Lowe was informed that the Balcombe ladies had been at Longwood, he said that ‘they had no business to have spoken to General Bonaparte, as their pass had only specified Count Bertrand’s family’.37)

  After finishing Warden’s book, Napoleon concluded: ‘The foundation of it is true, but he has badly understood what was said to him; as in the work there are many mistakes, which must have arisen from bad explanation; Warden does not understand French. He has acted incorrectly in making me speak in the manner he has done. For, instead of having stated that it had been conveyed through an interpreter, he puts down almost everything as if I had been speaking to him all the time.’38 Bertrand counselled: ‘This book will be useful for you. It is of a new kind, since it sings your praises . . . In some moments it shows you sad, or calm, imperturbable, good, sensitive, kind to all those around you, walking with Madame Bertrand and your pleasant manner with her, and your intelligence, which is superior to all. He represents you in a way so different from the way you have been painted, that it must have a good effect.’39 Napoleon liked this argument and became a supporter of Warden’s work.

  Warden’s Letters caused a stir for several days. Lady Malcolm remarked that in fifty years no work in England had enjoyed more vogue.40 What particularly impressed and inspired O’Meara was that the book was already said to have earned the author 50,000 francs. ‘That’s possible—the British do not know me,’ Napoleon said, ‘anything relating to St Helena, published by an eyewitness and their countryman, piques their curiosity; they are hungry for details about me. Balcombe offered Marchand fifty guineas for the views of Longwood he had done; he would have made a good speculation in London if Marchand had agreed to his wish.’41 The doctor decided to set about writing his own work. Bertrand noted: ‘O’Meara, won over by the lure of 6000 pounds, would undertake to publish it if he had his independence.’42