O’Meara replied that he had orders only to report any illness to Sir Hudson – referred to by Napoleon as the ‘head of the spies’ (un capio di spioni) – and the Emperor seemed to be mollified. The surgeon added that in his professional capacity he did not consider himself to belong to any particular country.4
O’Meara’s dismissal of his nationality, even in the context of his medical role, was wishful thinking. Irish by birth, ‘English’ in the eyes of Napoleon and the French, his military superiors expected him to behave as a loyal British citizen and officer and to fulfil his duties on St. Helena accordingly. He was not helped by the fact that he had no written contract of employment to be the Emperor’s doctor, only the verbal encouragement of the Admiralty and his immediate naval chiefs. His exact relationship to Napoleon, and indeed to the British Navy, Army and Government, was open to interpretation. The surgeon later claimed that Lord Keith and others had granted him the special title ‘Surgeon to Napoleon Bonaparte’ and that ‘this nomination did not confer on the officers of His Majesty’s Land Forces any right or power over me … I consequently was not subject to ordinary military discipline’. Unsurprisingly, St. Helena’s military Governor was subsequently to disagree with O’Meara. For Napoleon’s British surgeon to have been a completely free agent, entirely detached from normal military protocol, would have been unprecedented. The British authorities approved of having a British officer in Napoleon’s entourage as this was an excellent opportunity to watch over the captive, but he had to be under control. Despite his posturing, O’Meara must have had considerable concerns. He later recalled that he was only a short period on St. Helena before he fully understood the ‘embarrassments’ of his situation whereby he had to choose between becoming an accessory to ‘vexations for which there was no necessity’ or ‘incurring suspicions of no very comfortable nature’. He was to be trapped between two warring factions. The two chief protagonists acknowledged as much, Lowe accepting that the doctor’s position was ‘delicate’ and Napoleon frankly informing him of his ‘dangerous situation’. As O’Meara later admitted to Marchand, he was ‘between the anvil and the hammer’. He created unnecessary complications by continuing his subversive contact with the Admiralty in London. When he had stepped aboard the Bellerophon he had been an ordinary navy surgeon. When he disembarked on St. Helena he was attempting to be three things; Napoleon’s medical attendant, a British officer, and an Admiralty informer.5
In his early days on the island O’Meara had time to cement his relationship with the Emperor. A good doctor has to be a good listener and this was one of O’Meara’s talents much appreciated by the great man. Napoleon enjoyed dominating a good conversation and he was tired of the constant bickering of Bertrand, Montholon, and Gourgaud. Marchand says that the doctor was particularly allotted the time that the Emperor spent dressing. It is clear that Napoleon enjoyed O’Meara’s company and that he treated him affectionately, not hesitating to give him the familiar friendly ‘slap in the face’ or a gentle tug of the ear. When O’Meara suffered a faint, Napoleon showed great concern, loosening his collar and reviving him with smelling salts. ‘I feared’ said the Emperor ‘that it was a stroke; your face became that of a dead man; I thought your soul had left you.’ Were we to have only O’Meara’s account of this episode, we might think it embroidered or even fabricated, but it is fully confirmed by Marchand.
Napoleon chatted to his surgeon about a wide range of subjects, not least medicine. He quizzed O’Meara regarding anatomy and physiology and observed that he had studied anatomy himself for a few days but had been sickened by the putrefied corpses. The Emperor knew that his doctor was avidly documenting his conversations for later publication and it is little coincidence that many of the military and political subjects that he addressed involved much self-justification. As with Warden, he spoke of controversial aspects of his rule such as the murder of the Duc D’Enghien, the alleged poisoning of the French sick at Jaffa, and his abortive invasion of Russia. As his exile lengthened, he increasingly attacked Lowe and the British authorities. O’Meara, who at the outset had no particular reason to be his admirer or ally, gradually fell under his spell. Las Cases witnessed the relationship and was touched by the genuine concern that the British navy doctor had for his eminent patient.6
Prior to Lowe’s arrival, things went quite smoothly for O’Meara, as the interim Governor, Cockburn, was not only from the surgeon’s own arm of the service but also more understanding than his Army successor. This was not much appreciated by Napoleon and his retinue, who were quick to find fault with the sailor. Relations between Napoleon and the Admiral became strained; the Emperor referred to the Englishman as a ‘veritable shark’, refused his dinner invitations and expressed relief that he would soon be replaced. O’Meara was present during one of the Emperor’s grumbles regarding Cockburn and as he left the room he commented to Marchand, ‘I wish the shark could stay with us; we will regret his departure, I am sure of it’. In view of subsequent events, this shows perspicacity on O’Meara’s part. His warmth towards Cockburn was reciprocated. The Admiral later discussed events on St. Helena with Lord Dudley, who wrote in his letters;
He [Cockburn] defends Sir Hudson Lowe only just as far as prudence and decorum obliges an official man to do so. Indeed; he acknowledged that, with respect to what passed on St. Helena, he was disposed to take O’Meara’s part.7
Whilst fulfilling his dual role as physician and British officer, O’Meara was continuing to busily wield his pen as an unofficial Admiralty spy. Before Lowe’s appearance in April 1816, he had already sent three letters to his friend Finlaison. These are long and detailed and their writing must have taken up much of O’Meara’s spare time. They are also opinionated and amusing, containing much St. Helena gossip, and they were enthusiastically received. Finlaison encouraged O’Meara to continue the correspondence. On 3rd July, he replied to the doctor.
Your letters of the 16th March and 22nd April came duly to hand and furnished a real feast to some very great folks here … I hope sincerely that your letters to me, which have done you so much credit with the Admiralty, and made you well known, will hereafter be the means of favouring your advancement, which will give me great pleasure.
The ‘great folks’ were a number of cabinet ministers and the Prince Regent. The letters were circulated by Crokin, Secretary to the Admiralty, although Finlaison confidently asserted that they were not seen by anyone outside this elite group. Earl Bathurst can hardly have been ignorant of the nature of the letters, but he was apparently in no hurry to share this information with the new Governor of the island.
O’Meara trusted Finlaison to edit his correspondence. After a self-seeking passage in a letter of March 1816 in which O’Meara tries to justify his claim for extra pay – ‘I have had to perform every duty of physician, surgeon, apothecary, and indeed orderly man, if I must be a prisoner it is only the hopes of emolument which will induce me to continue in this case’ – he stresses that much of his letter is unsuitable for the public eye and notes that it might not be ‘altogether agreeable’ to the Government. He adds, ‘However, of this you are, of course, the best judge.’ O’Meara appeared sympathetic to Napoleon.
He frequently breaks into invectives against the British Government for sending him to this island which he pronounces (with some reason) to be the most detestable spot in the Universe. Behold the English generosity, said he, gazing around at the frightful and stupendous rocks which encompassed him … Your Ministers laugh at your Laws!
The need for circumspection became even more acute, when, later in the year, O’Meara began to criticise Lowe directly. In a letter penned in December, he refers to the ‘unnecessary rigor’ practised towards Napoleon, the first of a series of adverse comments regarding his military superior. He reminds Finlaison of the need to conceal his letters from the Governor, ‘though it remains a little strange and unaccountable to me that Sir Hudson should be so dreadfully alarmed at the idea of His Majesty’s Ministers being ma
de acquainted with the truth’.8
If the arrival of Hudson Lowe was the touchpaper, it was a slow burning fuse. Indeed, he initially made efforts to befriend O’Meara who was in a unique position to inform him of the activities of his prisoner. Later, O’Meara was to claim that the Governor had ‘loaded him with civilities’, invited him constantly to dinner and conversed with him for hours. Lowe denied these assertions, saying that he had treated him as any other officer and, certainly, these claims are not entirely consistent with O’Meara’s contemporary comment to Finlaison that the Governor was polite but a man of few words. O’Meara also states that Lowe sought his advice on the most appropriate way to approach Napoleon, for instance, whether it was good etiquette to invite him to a ball at Plantation House as ‘General Bonaparte’. The doctor says that he defended the Governor in conversation with Napoleon, accepting that he was ‘hasty’ but also pointing out that he was ‘not devoid of talent’ and emphasising his great responsibility and rigid orders. In subsequent correspondence to Bathurst, Lowe comments that he originally believed O’Meara to be close to Napoleon but ultimately loyal to the British Government, ‘...he considered his duties as a British officer paramount to every other consideration’. He then adds cryptically, ‘Certain views, however, which I had taken of his character, would have still induced me to have removed him upon my arrival on the island had not the decided repulse of Napoleon Bonaparte to receive the advice of Mr Baxter and the suspicion insinuated that I was sent out here to poison him, proved the difficulty I should have to encounter in placing any other person than Mr O’Meara near him.’ This was written in 1818, long after the first rift between the two men and Lowe’s judgement of O’Meara’s character may have benefited from hindsight. That their relationship was, at the outset, relatively harmonious is suggested by the Governor’s acceptance of O’Meara’s petition for an increase in his salary from £365 to £520.9
As O’Meara was the only individual close to both Lowe and Napoleon it was inevitable that he would become a ‘go-between’, carrying messages and general information between the British and French camps. In justifying this role, he claimed that Lowe had actually appointed him as ‘an organ of communication’ with Longwood. This arrangement was approved by the French and it quickly evolved such that O’Meara became a mediator between the Governor and the prisoners. He transmitted complaints relating to cooking utensils, poor provisions and washing facilities. Much of this was trifling – he informs Gorrequer that Madame Bertrand would prefer to be supplied with ‘ale’ rather than ‘brown stout’. In addition, he wrote a number of more complex diplomatic letters addressing various unresolved issues including Napoleon’s proper title, the possible modification of the restrictions pertaining to Longwood, medical bulletins, and the fate of Las Cases after his abrupt removal from the island. French historian Philippe Gonnard sympathises with the surgeon. ‘On reading these letters it is very evident that the negotiator was to be pitied. His position was a trying one between two parties equally difficult to please.’10
When first arriving on St. Helena, O’Meara had to be content to live under canvas but he was subsequently accommodated in a fair size room at Longwood. Beyond his futile attempts to keep the peace between the Emperor and the Governor, his greater freedom of movement meant that he was ideally placed to keep the French entourage in touch with events on the island, to liaise on their behalf with visiting ships and to bring them newspapers. He could also deal with local tradesmen and purveyors. The French had originally been allowed to access all parts of St. Helena if accompanied by O’Meara, but this arrangement was quickly changed by Cockburn such that it had to be another British officer of his choice, a sure sign that the Admiral viewed O’Meara as a less reliable safeguard than a strictly military escort. Isolated and frustrated, the Longwood occupants much appreciated O’Meara’s sudden arrivals from Jamestown with news gleaned from a new vessel in the harbour. Gourgaud’s journal is peppered with such incidents. In the early days of the exile, Napoleon’s health was of no great concern to the doctor but he was occupied as Longwood’s General Practitioner tending to the minor ailments of the Bertrand children and others.11
Living in such close proximity to the French on a daily basis it was natural for the young surgeon to form a close bond with them. What did they think of O’Meara? We have the accounts of Gourgaud, Las Cases, Bertrand and Montholon to refer to but we have to read between the lines. Gourgaud had an uneven relationship with O’Meara but the two men parted on good terms when the doctor left St. Helena. The old soldier comments in his journal that O’Meara had fallen out with the Montholons, but that Count Montholon was quick to defend O’Meara when Balmain accused the surgeon of impropriety. Bertrand often acted as a messenger between the Emperor and the doctor, at one point giving O’Meara explicit instruction as to his course of action after leaving the island. O’Meara’s opinions of the French are probably better gauged from his contemporary letters to the Admiralty than from his writings published a decade later where he tended to idealise Napoleon’s entourage. Whereas he later plays up the lack of provisions on St. Helena, in letters to Finlaison he claimed that the Longwood occupants were the greatest gluttons and epicures he ever saw, consuming three or four times as much as a normal English person. He delighted in making fun of the Montholons, gave a satirical account of the Longwood ante-chamber and kitchen, and added occasional coarse jokes.12
Lowe’s initial qualified approval of O’Meara was very likely fuelled by the latter’s willingness to relate Napoleon’s actions and words to him. In a letter to the Morning Chronicle in 1823, O’Meara explained the letters that he had written to Lowe, Gorrequer and Reade in early 1816. Some of the letters were written for good reason and could not be held against O’Meara, but in others he relates Napoleon’s conversations in explicit detail, leading to a possible charge of indelicacy or even of being a British spy. Balmain speaks of the doctor as ‘Sir Hudson Lowe’s secret agent at Longwood’. It is difficult to prove that Lowe insisted that O’Meara report on Napoleon, but the fact that the Governor says that these reports were ‘generally unsolicited’ implies that he sometimes asked for them. According to O’Meara, he was simply complying with the Emperor’s wishes. He asserted that, as he had no written appointment, Lowe had threatened to send him back to England and replace him with his own favourite, Dr Baxter, who also spoke Italian and would be able to converse with Napoleon. At this point in his newspaper letter, O’Meara makes an outrageous reference to a conversation between the King and Buckingham in Shakespeare’s Richard III.
Cousin, thou wast not want to be so dull –
Shall I be plain? I wish the bastards dead;
And I would have it suddenly performed.
Lowe had little incentive to assassinate Napoleon, a man entrusted to his care, but it was equally unlikely that the Emperor would readily agree to a doctor provided by a man he regarded as his enemy. O’Meara consulted Napoleon, stating that Lowe insisted that he tell all regarding events at Longwood.
‘Never,’ said Napoleon, ‘Never shall the body-physician of that governor attend me. I have seen his face and the proposal needs no other commentary. You may do any thing, only keep me out of the hands of that man’s body-physician … Speak as you will of us all; gratifying his nature by abusing or decrying us.’
This dramatic account was undoubtedly written for public effect but the more sober version of events in his later book suggests that the Emperor gave the doctor at least partial permission to repeat his conversations, particularly his favourite themes. Furthermore, many St. Helena writings confirm Napoleon’s reluctance to be Baxter’s patient. However, O’Meara is not entirely frank and the content of his letters subtly changed over time. His later statement that he discontinued his reporting of Napoleon’s words after the odious regulations established by Lowe in October 1816 is untrue, as more than half of the letters were written after this date. Initially he focussed on subjects which a loyal Englishman might feel bound to
report to his superiors, quite in accordance with his comment to Lowe in October 1817.
If Napoleon said something of political importance, if he were to tell some anecdote likely to throw light on any part of his history or might be useful, I would tell you of it.
In later letters, O’Meara’s ink flows more freely and he begins to make allusions to subjects, for instance, the Emperor’s criticisms of Warden’s letters, that he had little need to share with the Governor. He seems to have exceeded the admittedly loose permission given by Napoleon to only report, on the one hand, his idle chatter on selected themes or, on the other, topics of key political importance. Was he really complying with Napoleon’s dictate to act as a gentleman or was he becoming perilously close to being a spy? Perhaps the doctor was unsure where this thin line lay.
O’Meara can thus be accused of double disloyalty to Napoleon, both in his communications to Lowe and in his continued letters to the Admiralty. The latter correspondence only became favourable to Napoleon after O’Meara started to quarrel with the Governor. The Emperor can hardly be accused of naivety and he cannot have entirely trusted O’Meara. The Longwood retinue were also becoming suspicious of their foreign physician, Gourgaud commenting in February 1817, ‘Is not the doctor the Governor’s spy?’ Napoleon was displeased when he learnt of O’Meara’s reports to the Admiralty.13
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