Betsy and the Emperor

by Anne Whitehead

  Tyrwhitt’s letter created a difficulty for Lowe. For two years he had suspected Balcombe of transmitting messages for the French, perhaps aided by his family, and had planned to move against him. He wrote to Bathurst that an examination of Gourgaud’s papers confirmed that the persons at Longwood had ‘no difficulty in sending any letters they pleased’. Gourgaud had provided an even more critical piece of information: ‘that of an equal facility of obtaining money here. He does not state any Individuals, but the number of persons who have free access to Longwood is so few, that suspicion must too naturally fall on some of them. Those I refer to are Mr Balcombe the Purveyor (his wife & daughters who occasionally visit Madame Bertrand on my passes), and Mr Cole, his Partner, who is also Postmaster. It is by Messrs Balcombe & Cole that the whole pecuniary business of the Persons at Longwood is managed.’16 Lowe wrote that what made his suspicion ‘fall the more strongly on these persons is the particular Intimacy subsisting between them and Mr O’Meara, which long since made me caution Mr Balcombe against adopting him as a medium of interpretation with the persons at Longwood’, but instead ‘his intimacy has since been increased rather than abated’.17

  Balcombe’s merchant business meant that he had regular dealings with Indiamen and naval ships calling at the island and he offered hospitality to many captains and officers. Nor did he always abide by the strict letter of the law as the governor defined it; Lowe believed that Balcombe’s form in the past demonstrated his wobbly ethics. The governor had learned that sixteen years earlier, when Balcombe was second mate on an East India Company ship on the Bengal run, he had disobeyed his captain’s orders at sea, neglected his duty and shown ‘mutinous conduct’.18 He was arrested and confined to his cabin until a court-martial was held in Calcutta before the governor general, Sir Richard Wellesley.19 The charges warranted imprisonment or transportation to Botany Bay, yet Balcombe seemed to incur no penalty and was freed to make his own way back to England. Soon afterwards, the East India Company granted him permission to take up a position at St Helena. Then, just before his departure in 1805, Balcombe was arrested by bailiffs at the Isle of Wight for debt, but it was settled by a friend.20 It all seemed unfathomable, unless there was powerful intervention on Balcombe’s behalf. A few years later, while holding the position of Company sales agent on the island, the man had been rebuked by Governor Beatson for carrying on a contraband trade with Cape Town in his schooner the Bonetta and had been forced to sell the vessel.21 And yet the merchant had inveigled the governor into being godfather to his newborn son and all was forgiven.

  For a long time Lowe had intended to remove the purveyor from his post, but he had to finesse how he did it. There was that rumour that never quite died, whispered at the castle and the barracks and by guests at Plantation House, that Balcombe was the natural son of the Prince Regent. Lowe could find no evidence for this—beyond a slight physical resemblance and a tendency to excess—but there was that baffling connection with Tyrwhitt, the prince’s former secretary and still his close confidant, as the recent letter from him had confirmed. The governor knew of few patrons who kept such a close and affectionate watch on a protégé, even supervising the education of Balcombe’s eldest boy in England. Sir Thomas, universally respected, had personally met with Lowe in London to secure for his favourite the position of supplying Bonaparte’s table, and had followed up his request with a written reminder.22 Without definite proof of Balcombe’s complicity with clandestine correspondence, money transfers or worse, it would not do to offend his influential protector.

  Lowe was aware—for his intelligence agents Reade and Gorrequer had informed him—that Balcombe had recently received a letter from Sir Thomas with the House of Lords insignia. While he sighted all letters intended for Longwood, Lowe would not presume to break the seal on Balcombe’s mail. In a private letter written on 24 February, he informed Bathurst that he understood that Tyrwhitt had advised Balcombe to absent himself for a few months and return to England with his family.23 Therefore it was no surprise when the purveyor applied to the governor and council for six months’ leave of absence, citing his wife’s ill health as the reason; it was true that she suffered from chronic hepatitis and her recent convalescence had been slow.

  The actual letter from Sir Thomas does not seem to have survived, although there are references to its content. Another reason for Balcombe requesting leave could have been that he had heard that his stepfather at Winchelsea was in failing health, in which case his mother would welcome his support. Six months in England, away from the intrigue, bickering and suspicion, would do the whole family good. In the interim, Admiral Plampin’s rental of The Briars could continue, and Balcombe’s partners Joseph Cole and William Fowler could manage his trading business and the brewery, and supply Longwood’s table.

  With the governor’s approval, Gourgaud sent a letter to Bertrand, requesting the return of his loan of £20, ‘for I am without a sou. What can I do when I arrive in England?’ Lowe had assured him that he would not be placed under house arrest at the Cape like Las Cases, but would sail directly to England on the Marquis of Camden, due to depart on 14 March. Lowe could not have been more obliging to Gourgaud. He said that if Bertrand failed to send the money, he would take it upon himself to provide him with the wherewithal for the voyage home, ‘and he gives me five or six letters of introduction to his friends in London’.24

  Lowe was by this stage aware that romance was developing under his own roof between his sixteen-year-old stepdaughter Charlotte Johnson and the 40-year-old Russian commissioner Count Balmain, who despised his prospective father-in-law. Lowe returned the dislike and disapproved of the disparity in the couple’s ages. His wife, who actively sought to marry off her daughters, welcomed the possibility of visiting St Petersburg and perhaps waltzing with the handsome Czar.

  Lieutenant Basil Jackson accompanied Gourgaud to Longwood; Jackson advised him to wait at the boundary and accosted Bertrand at his house, demanding the £20 owing to Gourgaud. This provoked the normally placid Bertrand: he said that the money was already deposited with Balcombe, who intended paying it. But what really angered him—he pushed Jackson against a window as he made his point—was that Gourgaud had three times refused the 12,000 francs the emperor had offered him; therefore His Majesty had made out the same amount as a pension to Gourgaud’s mother.25 In an ironic twist, Gourgaud’s damaging disclosure of the method by which Napoleon arranged transfers of funds to and from Europe probably meant that the pension for his mother was never paid.

  The volatile Frenchman’s final day on St Helena was 14 March. The Stürmers and Balmain came to town for a farewell breakfast with Gourgaud. They were joined by the Marquis de Montchenu, who flourished a letter of introduction to the French ambassador in London. Finally, Lieutenant Jackson arrived, bringing Balcombe’s payment of £20, settling Bertrand’s debt.26

  In her Recollections, Betsy neglected to mention that her father was out of official favour and instead offered a conventional excuse for their leaving the island: ‘In consequence of my mother’s health declining, from the enfeebling effects of the too warm climate of St. Helena, she was ordered by her medical adviser to try a voyage to England, as the only means of restoring her shattered constitution.’27

  The governor viewed Balcombe’s departure as convenient and had no wish to see him back. On 16 March, two days before the Balcombe family sailed, he covertly appointed Denzil Ibbetson, the assistant commissary of the military stores, as the new purveyor to Longwood.28 At the same time, he granted permission for Balcombe and his daughters to visit General Bonaparte to make their farewells.

  During Napoleon’s first two years on St Helena he had received British visitors more than a hundred times, on average at least once a week. After the imposition of Lowe’s restrictions in 1817, he had refused all socialising with the outside world, except for the calls of his purveyor, occasionally accompanied by his daughters. That final visit by William Balcombe with Betsy and Jane in March 1818 was the
last audience permitted by Napoleon until his death in May 1821, with the single exception of a relative of Prime Minister Lord Liverpool, whom he met in April 1819 in the hope of improving his conditions.29 That meeting was clearly for political reasons. His affections were rarely stirred, but perhaps he really cared for the Balcombes, especially for Betsy. However, there was still strategy in maintaining his connection with them: he knew that the family would soon be reunited with Sir Thomas Tyrwhitt in England.

  They found Napoleon in the billiard room, unpacking a consignment of books. He seemed greatly depressed that they were leaving and asked after Mrs Balcombe’s health, for she had been too unwell to accompany them to Longwood. Betsy and Jane, who had not seen him for months, were appalled by the deterioration in his appearance. His face was the colour of yellow wax, his cheeks fell in pouches and his ankles were so swollen that the flesh hung over his shoes. He needed to lean on a table to support himself when he stood. He saw their shock and made light of it, saying that the good O’Meara would soon have him cured.30 He insisted they stay and dine with him.

  The two adolescent girls may have been too naive—or in Betsy’s case too self-absorbed—to comprehend certain financial transactions that then took place. According to Montholon, co-executor of the emperor’s will, Napoleon gave Balcombe a bill, drawn upon Lafitte’s Bank in Paris, for 75,000 francs, and in addition authorised a pension for him of 12,000 francs a year. Balcombe, for his part, agreed to undertake certain commissions. He would contact Napoleon’s mother, Madame Letizia, and Prince Eugene, his stepson, and give them a full account of the affairs at Longwood. Furthermore, he agreed to agitate in London, using whatever influence he had, for the removal of Lowe, ideally to be replaced as governor by either Sir Pulteney Malcolm or Sir George Cockburn.31

  Marchand was co-executor and his memoirs note: ‘The Emperor was kind and gracious to his guests, and concerned to show his thanks for the kind hospitality he had received from them at The Briars. In giving his requests to the head of that family, he added a gift and a draft for 72,000 francs a year, begging him to please take care of his affairs in Europe. (So Balcombe was being offered the approximate equivalent of £3000 sterling.) The Emperor asked him to see his family and to tell them of the shameful way he was being treated. Mr Balcombe, without failing in his duty to his government, was able to satisfy the Emperor’s wishes.’32

  Their business affairs concluded, Napoleon limped as he led the family out into the garden; they stood gazing past the looming hulk of the Barn to the vast grey ocean below, merging at the horizon into a limitless grey sky. Napoleon said: ‘Soon you will be sailing away towards England, leaving me to die on this miserable rock. Look at those dreadful mountains—they are my prison walls. You will soon hear that the Emperor Napoleon is dead.’

  Betsy began to weep uncontrollably, rubbing her wet cheeks until Napoleon produced a handkerchief and told her to keep it. At last it was time to say goodbye. He embraced both girls, saying that he would always remember their friendship and kindness. He asked Betsy what she would like as a remembrance and she requested a lock of his hair. He sent for Marchand and the valet snipped four silky brown strands, ‘for my father and mother, my sister and myself . . . I still possess that lock of hair’, she later wrote, ‘it is all that is left me of the many tokens of remembrance of the Great Emperor’. Napoleon then reached for her and pressed his lips on hers, not an avuncular but a frankly sexual kiss. Betsy cried out in shock, then submitted.

  The three Balcombes mounted their horses and set off down the mountain. Betsy turned to take a last look at Longwood and waved at the portly figure standing alone on the trellised verandah.33

  Betsy had brought out the best in Napoleon, that complex, brilliant, calculating and turbulent man, severely formal with others but always approachable for her. She had loved him and she would never recover from knowing him.

  PART TWO

  His fire, for want of fuel, consumed himself

  and those around him.

  COUNTESS ALBINE DE MONTHOLON

  CHAPTER 20

  THE TIES THAT BIND

  On the afternoon of 18 March 1818, the Balcombes boarded the Winchelsea storeship, on its way home from China. Sir Thomas Reade reported to Lowe that Balcombe ‘has got the gout but is able to walk’.1 According to a story related later by William’s granddaughter Bessie, when the Winchelsea was about to sail, Balcombe produced a blank cheque given to him by Napoleon, which he had not liked to refuse, ‘yet never intending to make any use whatever of it’. He showed it to his wife, who glanced at it, ‘then without a moment’s hesitation tore it into pieces and tossed the fragments into the sea’.2 It sounds like a story from an affectionate granddaughter.

  The Balcombe daughters had no sense of a final departure from St Helena. They believed that they would be in England for just six months. However, despite Betsy’s protestations to the contrary in her Recollections, she must have had some understanding of the governor’s displeasure with her father and that it related to his dealings with the French. Jane at eighteen was already a young woman. Betsy would turn sixteen in seven months’ time. She must have known, as the island became a blur on the horizon, that a similar line had been ruled across her life. Her childhood was over.

  The loss of the Balcombes’ company was greatly regretted by Fanny Bertrand; it made her sense of isolation almost insupportable; other local residents were forbidden to socialise with her and she had just received news of the death of her mother in Paris.3 The St Helena Archives holds a letter she wrote the day the Balcombes sailed. It was clearly not vetted by the governor and was probably smuggled out on an Indiaman.4 ‘Mr Balcombe and his family have left St. Helena this day . . . He has been our accredited purveyor to Longwood House for almost 3 years and has been most helpful and considerate to me. I understand that Mr. Balcombe was required to sign a certificate before his departure saying that he was not carrying any letters or messages from Longwood. At first l’Empereur was very friendly with the Balcombe family; he often played with young Betsy, but of late he has tired of their company complaining they are miserable. His Majesty wearied of Betsy who became very jealous when he entertained either The Nymph (Miss Marianne Robinson) or The Rosebud (Miss Knipe)’.5

  The last comment is curious given that Napoleon had received no visitors except the Balcombes since the imposition of Lowe’s restrictions in 1817; if he had hosted the pretty daughters of neighbouring farmers, it would have been in early 1816, his convivial entertaining days, before the arrival of Sir Hudson Lowe.

  Napoleon may have complained about the Balcombes near the end—particularly after the purveyor declined to intercede with Sir Thomas Tyrwhitt—but undoubtedly he regretted the loss of Balcombe’s usefulness (relaying news, gossip, correspondence and even a diamond necklace). Most of all, he would never again have someone like Betsy in his life, with her prettiness and pranks, her artless chatter and laughter.

  On 22 March, Lowe was outraged to hear from Baron von Stürmer that Gourgaud had let slip that he was leaving the island carrying a journal, written in code, ‘of everything that had passed or been said remarkable during the last three years’. Gourgaud was by then a week’s sail away on the Atlantic. The governor, who had praised the man to Lord Bathurst, insisting that he could be trusted with a direct passage to England, now had to explain to his lordship that ‘General Gourgaud said he had got all his conversations with Napoleon Bonaparte for the last three years, in Cypher, of which he alone had the key’. Nothing like a journal had been found among Gourgaud’s papers, but his clothing had not been examined.

  As the despatch would follow too late for Gourgaud to be searched on his arrival in England, Lowe advised that he should be questioned ‘to draw forth a full explanation from him on the subject’. However, although ‘some Trick or Artifice’ must have been resorted to in order to smuggle the journal, ‘still I do not ascribe this to any design of serving the views of Napoleon Bonaparte, as it may be accounted for so mu
ch more readily on personal interest alone & on this ground I presume his justification will be attempted’.6 Lowe still wanted to believe in his prize defector.

  On 10 May, after a voyage of 54 days, the shores of England were sighted through mist. The Winchelsea entered the Solent River and sailed up a tributary to anchor in the late afternoon at the ancient port of Lymington. There were important despatches for London and a fast chaise-and-four could reach the capital far more speedily than the ship could negotiate the English Channel. Several passengers took advantage of the opportunity, including Mrs Jane Balcombe.7 In alighting at Lymington it seems that she seized the chance to collect their eldest son, William, from school. Her husband was apparently too unwell to disembark, and so with his daughters and the two younger boys, in the care of Sarah Timms, stayed on the Winchelsea as it made its way up the Channel to Hastings.

  Gossip preceded them. ‘There are various reports in circulation respecting a fracas at St Helena,’ noted The Times. ‘Mr Balcomb [sic] and his family with whom Buonaparte was so intimate on his first landing, is certainly arrived in England; and it is generally rumoured that he was not allowed to spend much time in packing up.’8 However, before Balcombe had even landed at Hastings, some ‘undoubted authority’ put the editor of The Times smartly in his place, requesting a retraction. It could only have been Tyrwhitt, having heard Mrs Balcombe’s account of events: ‘We are desired by a Correspondent to state, as from undoubted authority, that no other cause existed for Mr Balcombe’s quitting his situation at St Helena, than the dangerous state of Mrs Balcombe’s health at the time of her embarkation. The writer suggests that if there had been any improper conduct on the part of Mr Balcombe, Sir Hudson Lowe would scarcely have been so indulgent as to appoint Mr Cole, the partner of Mr Balcombe, to act for him as purveyor to Buonaparte during the period of his absence in England.’9 The Balcombes and Sir Thomas were not yet aware that even before the family’s departure the position of purveyor had been taken away.