Betsy and the Emperor

by Anne Whitehead

  At that, 29 Turf Club members took fright at the degree of the governor’s hostility and decided to withdraw their membership. Balcombe was among them, emotionally weakened by the previous year’s Treasury scandal and his impending financial ruin.

  In January 1828, the Sydney Gazette published an article of huge interest not just to the Balcombes but to the numerous readers of Sir Walter Scott. The best-selling British novelist of the age, author of Ivanhoe, Rob Roy and the Waverley novels, had recently published a new book in a number of volumes, The Life of Napoleon Bonaparte. For his research, Lord Bathurst had allowed Sir Walter, a prominent member of the Tory establishment in Scotland and a figure of international renown, access to his St Helena papers and (no doubt wishing him joy) to Sir Hudson Lowe’s voluminous correspondence.

  Several journals in France had since translated and published passages from Scott’s work, including the minutes of General Gourgaud’s treacherous ‘confessions’ at the Colonial Office in which he had asserted how easy it would be for Napoleon to escape and claimed that the former emperor was not ill at all. Gourgaud had responded with an open letter to the editor of the Courrier Français, refuting ‘the odious imputations directed against me’, in an attempt to save his skin. There was such a groundswell of affection in France for Bonaparte and the glory days that Gourgaud’s life was in actual danger if Bonapartists believed Scott’s claims. And the Colonial Office minutes of his interview made very credible reading. ‘I have read with indignation the passages in which an attempt is made to stigmatise my character,’ Gourgaud wrote. ‘If I reply to them it is because silent contempt is not always enough to oppose calumny.’ His protests continued at length. He said he was considering making his way to Edinburgh to challenge Scott to a duel.23

  When the old literary baronet, nearing sixty, heard of this, he wrote with relish to an Edinburgh friend, William Clerk, on 27 August 1827, requesting ‘an especial service’: to be his second in a duel with Gourgaud, if the latter acted on his threat. ‘Why, I will not baulk him, Jackie!’24

  In 1828 a census was conducted in New South Wales. It listed Balcombe as a man of considerable property, with 6560 acres (which included both the Bungonia and Molonglo land), 1100 acres cleared and 74 cultivated. He had 900 sheep, 500 cattle and ten horses. He had clearly overstocked his properties, and his sheep and cattle were close to starving. There were 28 servants on his landholdings, all of them convicts except two who ‘Came Free’. There were more staff at his rented property in Petersham—three labourers and a male servant. The Glebe plot was not mentioned so may have been sold. At the O’Connell Street house in town there were six staff: a coachman, an overseer, a footman (a particular affectation!) and three domestic servants.

  Balcombe—financially overextended as the drought continued, and with his convict farm labourers cutting down tree branches to try to feed the desperately foraging stock—was hard pressed on his reduced salary. The price of grain had risen enormously, much of it now imported from Van Diemen’s Land, and, like other settlers, he had not just his family but also servants to feed. With a glimmer of his old jauntiness he had a horse running at the race meeting in April. It did not win.

  Captain Piper now often visited town and, almost back in form, was always up for a party or a ball. Betsy wrote him an apologetic note: ‘My father begs me to say he is too unwell to accept your kind invitation for today’ and she herself had a cold, although she hoped to ‘be well enough to dance the first Quadrille with you on Tuesday next’.25

  Balcombe’s illness continued, and on 13 January 1829 he took sick leave from the Treasury. The governor’s brother-in-law Henry Dumaresq took over his responsibilities, but James Harrison and John Wallace were well experienced at running the office.

  On 19 March, William Balcombe died at his O’Connell Street home of dysentery, his constitution ravaged by that illness, and by gout and over two years of stress. He had left his financial affairs in great disorder.

  Ralph Mansfield, the new editor of the Sydney Gazette, gave him a fine tribute:

  The funeral of this respected gentleman took place on the evening of Monday last, and was attended by His Excellency the Governor, the Hon. The Colonial Secretary, the Judges of the Supreme Court, the Civil Officers resident in Sydney, several of the military officers of the Garrison, and a number of private friends of the deceased. Mr Balcombe had seen a considerable deal of public life. He resided at St Helena during the period of Napoleon Bonaparte’s exile to that island, and his family circle at ‘The Briars’, as his residence was designated, was a frequent resort of the Emperor, and beguiled him of many of those restless moments by which he was afflicted in his captivity. It is also stated, upon good authority, that Mr Balcombe was once indighted by Bonaparte to aid him in a projected escape from St Helena. The character of Mr Balcombe in this Colony was sufficiently known. Perhaps no gentleman, holding a public situation, has ever kept clearer of parties and politics (in the acceptation of the term in this Colony), and there are few, we feel assured, whose memory will be more generally respected.26

  The burial ceremony was performed four days later at St Philip’s Anglican Church, Sydney, by the Venerable Archdeacon Scott, with many of Balcombe’s friends there to see him off. He had few adversaries. He had somehow managed to maintain good relations with seemingly everyone in senior official positions. While he had earlier been a gregarious member of Sydney’s high-flying ‘fashionables’, this had later been balanced by his need to avoid factional influence, in order not to compromise his impartiality as both a magistrate and a senior government official.

  The lynchpin in the family had gone; after almost three years of illness, it was the attack of dysentery that felled Balcombe at the age of 51.27

  But Betsy must have been confident that they would manage. Her brothers were all young men carving out lives for themselves in the colony. She would have to be the one to look after her mother and six-year-old Bessie. There would surely be enough money for them when all her father’s financial affairs were sorted out. There would be some debts to pay off, but they would still have the properties, and her mother was certain to be given a pension by the government. They would probably need to rent a smaller villa in town, but she felt sure that Governor Darling would not dream of hurrying them out of the O’Connell Street house, he would give them time to grieve. And they would still be able to enjoy their trips to the country to stay at The Briars. Her father had loved going to the property; he used to say that he ‘found so much benefit from the change of climate, he would give up half his salary to breathe that pure air of the interior!’28

  Darling had already sent a despatch to the new Secretary of State, Sir George Murray:

  Sir, I have the painful duty to report the death of Mr Balcombe the Treasurer which took place last night. Mr Balcombe had long been subject to severe attacks of Gout, which occasionally confined him for several weeks at a time to his bed. His constitution at length became much impaired, and for the last three years he had been a complete invalid. About 4 months since, he was attacked with dysentery, a disease which his exhausted Constitution was unequal to resist, and he continued to decline gradually until last night, the period of his dissolution.

  I regret to add that Mr Balcombe has left a large family in very distressed circumstances. His widow and daughter will suffer severely, as they are without any means of support; for although Mr Balcombe possessed some land, he has died, I fear much in debt, and his land and stock are not in a state at present to make any return. There are also three sons, young men, who must provide for themselves, and, with industry and the assistance of their friends, can find little difficulty in doing so.29

  A few creditors took some near-starving livestock immediately, sending them straight to the slaughterhouse. Young William and his assigned workers continued to look after the others as best they could, and rain began to fall. The worst of the drought was over.

  CHAPTER 36

  A FRACTURED FAMILY

/>   Balcombe’s death was a catastrophe in every imaginable way for his family. He had died bankrupt, owing many creditors. Three weeks after his death, a huge auction was held at his O’Connell Street house, attended by a crowd of sightseers as well as bidders. Part of the drawcard was Napoleon Bonaparte: buyers thought there was a chance to own a chair upon which the great warmonger might have sat (although the Balcombes had in fact brought no furniture from St Helena) or put their lips to a cup from which he had drunk.

  At the auction’s conclusion, the accoutrements of the Balcombes’ comfortable, elegant lives had been dismantled. But that was not all. Even the remaining lease of their house was up for sale. Then it was over and the waiting horse-drawn carts took away the family’s worldly possessions. Jane, Betsy and her daughter were left to stare at each other in a daze in empty rooms that were no longer theirs to occupy.

  As the eldest son and heir (to a lot of debt), William took charge of the family’s affairs. Having just turned 21, he was able to undertake legal responsibilities, and would have been closely involved with his father’s solicitor in meeting obligations to redeem debts now threatening the family’s future. He might well have possessed the necessary business skills. Today it seems astonishing that from the age of sixteen he had been in the bush by himself, managing two large farms, overseeing the work and welfare of a dozen or so convict labourers. However, it was simply the case that in the nineteenth century the adult world began much earlier: a boy of twelve could be transported or hanged for theft.

  His brother Thomas had gained some farming experience from his job as a superintendent with the Australian Agricultural Company at Port Stephens. Drought had impacted on the massive pastoral company, which could explain why Thomas was released and in 1829 began work in Sydney as a clerk at the Commissariat. The previous year, the youngest brother, Alexander, had been dismissed from there for ‘negligence’,1 but he was now working as a clerk in the Office of the Chief Justice, probably out of Forbes’s kindness. All the children except William had been living in the O’Connell Street house, and all would now have to move. It is understandable that after their father’s death and given the penury of their womenfolk, the sons were emotionally disturbed at this time.

  It certainly appears that Balcombe had intended to set up his sons as pastoral landholders. His initial request to the governor in 1824 for a 2000-acre grant was meant for himself, Thomas and Alexander. Because William junior was sixteen in 1824, he had commenced management of his father’s Bungonia property after tenure was granted. Balcombe’s purchase in 1825 of 4000 acres at Molonglo was undoubtedly made with Thomas and Alexander in mind as well, once they were old enough to join William in learning to farm the estates. Balcombe’s additional purchase of 560 acres at Bungonia was another useful increment of the better quality land across Yarralaw Creek from his own holding. In his own small way, Balcombe can be credited as one of the early pioneer pastoralists of New South Wales. His endeavours in managing the 6500 acres under his control could have led to great prosperity for the family, but for the terrible drought years of 1827 to 1829.

  Balcombe’s Bungonia and Molonglo properties were advertised for auction on 13 June, to be sold ‘for the benefit of those who have claims on the estates’. However, insufficient money resulted from the land and stock auction to pay off all the creditors. So Mrs Balcombe petitioned the governor for a pension. On 28 July, the executive council considered her petition and agreed to write to London ‘in consideration of the state of utter destitution of herself and family, that she be allowed a quarterly allowance of thirty pounds’.

  Jane Balcombe, Betsy and her daughter then moved out of town. They possibly went to young William’s land in Bungonia, where he had a simple dwelling, or else to the home of their kind neighbours the Reids, who may have insisted they stay with them.

  However, good news was on its way. Some months before her father’s final illness, Betsy had written to Admiral Sir George Cockburn, by then First Naval Lord in the Wellington ministry, hoping that he could help with a land grant. She wrote: ‘I have had stock left me by a friend who died lately, and, not having any land of my own, my father at present takes care of my stock for me; if I was fortunate enough to procure a grant of land I should wish it to be near my father’s in the County of Argyll.’2 (The ‘friend’ may have been her father, giving her stock before his creditors closed in.) When Cockburn received Betsy’s request he promptly wrote to Viscount Goderich, then Secretary of State, saying that it would be a special favour to him to accede to the request. The response came from the new minister, Sir George Murray, urging approval to Darling, who subsequently informed Betsy that he was able to grant her 1280 acres in the Argyle district near Bungonia.3 Betsy was delighted, but anxious not to have the land registered in her own name, for fear that Edward Abell might return to the colony to make a legal claim on it. It was agreed that it would be registered in the name of a trustee, Attorney-General Alexander Baxter.

  But good news was followed by yet another blow. In February 1830, Jane Balcombe was sent news that her petition for a pension had been rejected in London.

  In the Argyle district that year, bushrangers were menacing farms and travellers on the road. It may have been for this reason that Betsy, her mother and daughter moved closer to town. They settled into one of the church cottages at Glebe Farm, about three miles out of town on the main road to Liverpool. Soon after they were there, they experienced the robbery they had feared in the country. In late March 1830, according to reports, three ‘ruffians’ made an attack ‘on the dwelling of Mrs. Balcombe’: ‘They did not ill-use Mrs. Balcombe. Mrs. Abell was absent.’4

  In Sydney, the middle Balcombe son, Thomas, had applied to become a draftsman in the surveyor general’s department. With his artistic talent, the appointment turned out to be a boon for him. Work as a draftsman was akin to attending an art school, with the demands on his nascent drawing abilities to provide sketches and maps of topographical features, under the tutelage of competent draftsmen who were often also artists. Robert Hoddle, with whom Thomas worked on surveying trips beyond the colony’s boundaries, was one such accomplished mentor.

  Alexander was not doing so well. In early 1831, he left the chief justice’s office, deciding that he did not care for clerical work. He went to live with his brother William at Molonglo Plains.

  William had obviously learned some lessons about astute dealing from his father. Not only had he secured a grant for himself of 1280 acres at Molonglo, but somehow the 4000-acre property that had been his father’s and some of Balcombe’s stock became his also. Exactly how this was accomplished is unclear—but it may simply have been part of William’s inheritance once his father’s equity in it was paid to the government, leaving the heavily mortgaged farm to himself. He sent a few of his assigned convicts to mind his sister’s sheep and cattle, given to her by her mysterious ‘friend’, on her grant of 1280 acres in Bungonia.

  Betsy was uncomfortable with the fact that Attorney-General Baxter was the trustee for her land, for she disliked him and gathered that the feeling was reciprocal. Now that she was living in Sydney again, she sometimes saw his wife Maria, who had been beautiful at first, but had become drawn and haggard. One day when they met, Maria tried to hide her face with a veil. Betsy was shocked when her friend confessed, weeping, that her husband had knocked out her teeth. He was often drunk and angry, and would then become violent. Betsy insisted that she make an official report. The two women went to the office of the lawyer Roger Therry, a big-hearted man and a social reformer. There Maria made a formal deposition about the brutality of her husband, and went to stay with Betsy and her mother. Therry presented the deposition to Chief Justice Forbes, who requested that police chief Rossi lay charges against the attorney-general.

  Baxter went berserk. He raged that his wife was a liar, and wrote in a letter to the Colonial Office that Maria ‘had the assistance of a number of demi-monde Ladies—among the most remarkable of whom for everythin
g connected with vice and blackguardism is the Daughter of the late Colonial Treasurer, Mrs Abell, formerly of St Helena celebrity’.5 Betsy had become his bitter enemy and he would stir up scandal about her if he could.

  Fortunately, Darling considered Baxter incompetent and a drunk, and wrote an official despatch stating that Mr Baxter’s ‘disreputable habits’ had become ‘notorious . . . his Conduct has been disgraceful in the extreme, having been almost constantly in a state of inebriety’.6 Baxter was asked to resign and Colonial Secretary Macleay spelled out some of the reasons: ‘His Excellency laments that your treatment of your Wife, as stated in a deposition of which the enclosed is a copy made by her before two Magistrates on the 17th of last month, and the general notoriety of your irregular and disreputable habits more especially of late, together with the fact of your having been declared Insolvent’ rendered it highly inappropriate that Baxter should continue in his important office.7

  Betsy decided that if she and her mother were not to live as paupers, they must travel to England, to ask influential friends to help plead their case. It was a rather desperate and expensive journey. The Nancy departed Sydney on 13 February 1831. The women were returning to a Europe they had not seen for more than seven years and that would be all new to eight-year-old Bessie.

  In July of the previous year there had been a revolution in Paris against Charles X. It had been brutally crushed, and a new king, Louis Philippe, from the house of Orléans, had been installed on the French throne. However, the seemingly indestructible Letizia Buonaparte, aged 80, never flagged in her ambitions for her family. She was convinced her grandson in Vienna would inevitably become Emperor Napoleon II.

  Meanwhile, reports of Darling’s unpopularity continued to reach London, and the Whigs warned that there would be more ‘serious disturbances’ in the colony ‘if the tyranny of General Darling is allowed any longer to continue’. Secretary of State Goderich wrote a despatch in March 1831 which reached Sydney in July. Darling was shattered by the totally ‘unexpected communication’ that his appointment at the colony of New South Wales was terminated.8