Napoleon's Young Neighbor Part 13

"Oh, Mees Betsee, why make such faces?"

This was the first ice that had ever been seen on the island, and those who had never been off St. Helena were naturally amazed when it was shown to them.

"It can't be frozen water," exclaimed Miss de F., a young St. Helena lady who had accompanied the Balcombes on this visit to Longwood; and she had to hold a piece in her hand before she believed it. Then she gave a little scream. The gla.s.sy substance was so cold at first that she was ready to drop it. A moment later when it began to melt and the water streamed down her fingers, she realized that she had actually seen a very strange thing, the turning of water into ice by artificial means.

Betsy long remembered the day when she had first seen the wonderful ice machine, and perhaps her remembrance of it was intensified because on that same morning Napoleon permitted her to cut from his coat an embroidered bugle, and the coat was the one he had worn at Waterloo.

Napoleon himself was as pleased as a child with the ice machine, and to more than one person expressed his regret that he had not had it in Egypt, where its use would have saved the lives of many suffering soldiers.

CHAPTER VIII

THE GOVERNOR'S RULES

After Napoleon had been at St. Helena a few months, newspapers from England began to arrive with narratives of many of the happenings at The Briars.

One journal contained a letter from the Marquis de Montchenu, describing all the romping games at The Briars, such as the game of blindman's buff, the sword scare, and other things in which the children had taken part.

Special comments were made on the manners of Betsy, and the writer said, "She is the wildest little girl I have ever met; she seems _folle_."

This letter had been translated into French and German journals, so that Betsy Balcombe's name was now widely known.

Mr. Balcombe was greatly enraged by this letter, and wished to call the Marquis to account for his ill nature, but Mrs. Balcombe persuaded him to desist from extreme measures, and in the end the Marquis himself made an apology.

Napoleon found some amus.e.m.e.nt in Betsy's fierce anger against the critical Frenchman. One day Dr. O'Meara called at The Briars, on the way to St. James Valley, with a message from Napoleon to tell Betsy how she could revenge herself on the tale-bearer.

The Marquis, a n.o.ble of the old school, was in the habit of wearing an elaborate wig with a long cue.

"Mees Betsy, if you will burn off the cue with caustic, I will reward you with the prettiest fan in Solomon's shop, if you will send the pigtail to me," suggested Napoleon to Betsy as a plan of revenge.

"_Eh, bien_," said the Emperor, when next he saw Betsy, "Mdlle. Betsy, _as tu obei mes ordres et gagne l'eventail_?" ["Have you obeyed my orders and won the fan?"]

"Oh, sire, how I wanted to do it, but my brother would not let me!"

"Ah, Mees Betsy," and Napoleon pinched her ear, "_tu commences a etre sage_. Here, O'Meara, have you brought the fan I promised Miss Betsy?"

"No, sire, there were none pretty enough for her in Solomon's shop."

Betsy's face grew serious.

"Do not look sad," expostulated Napoleon. "You shall have something prettier than a fan;" and Betsy, comprehending, wondered what the present would be that he evidently intended to give her.

In a few days a package came to The Briars, addressed to Betsy. Opening it, she saw a ring of brilliants, forming the letter N, surmounted by a small eagle.

This was a wonderful gift for a little girl, and at first she could hardly believe that it was for her. Later she found there was no mistake. It was really hers, and she kept it always.

Although Betsy was not permitted to carry out Napoleon's proposed plan of revenge on the tale-telling Marquis, she expressed her feelings in a way of her own by relating to Napoleon an anecdote about him.

"The Marquis," she said, "is extremely fond of cauliflower, a vegetable that is very hard to get here on the island. Well, the other day, he dined with us and we had the most delicious cauliflower. Somehow he didn't see it until it was being removed and then he cried to his aide-de-camp, who had neglected to point it out, '_Bete, pourquoi-ne m'a tu pas dit qu'il-y-avait des choux fleurs?_' ['Idiot, why didn't you tell me that there was cauliflower?'] Now, wasn't he greedy?" asked Betsy, glad enough to have a story to tell that placed the Marquis at a disadvantage.

The Marquis de Montchenu, for whom Betsy had professed this dislike, was one of the three Commissioners sent by the Allied Powers to keep watch on Napoleon. The other two were the Baron Sturmer, representing Austria, and Count Balmain, sent by Russia. While England provided the prison and jailer for Napoleon, these Commissioners were asked to observe everything and report to their respective countries. France and Austria had ordered their Commissioners to see Napoleon in their official capacity every day in order to a.s.sure themselves that he was actually alive. Baron Balmain was instructed by Russia neither to seek nor avoid an occasion to see him. To describe the vain efforts of the French and Austrian Commissioners to see Napoleon would make an entertaining story.

Napoleon's orders to his household were not to admit any one presenting a pa.s.s from the British authorities. But as Sir Hudson Lowe would permit no one to go to Longwood without a pa.s.s from him, those who wished to see Napoleon were in a dilemma.

Things were not bettered when Napoleon wrote Sir Hudson Lowe, desiring him not to present any one to him, as in future he would receive no visitors. He acted as if he thought it his duty to shut himself up, in order that public opinion might be turned against the narrow-mindedness of the Governor. After this few of the people of St. Helena tried to call on him. From delicacy of feeling, or because they feared his anger, civilians and military residents avoided Longwood. Only the two Commissioners and the resident English officer made an effort to see him daily, and their efforts, merely to get a glance at him through window or door, were most absurd. The officer sometimes saw him, but the Commissioners never had the privilege. The Marquis de Montchenu beheld him at last only when he lay dead. Baron Sturmer and Baron Balmain left St. Helena while Napoleon was still alive without having met him.

As to Betsy Balcombe, though she had her own opinion, on account of her father's position she could not express herself strongly about Sir Hudson Lowe.

"Has any one run away with a favorite _robe de bal_, or is the pet black nurse, old Sarah, dead?" asked Napoleon one day, detecting a serious look on Betsy's face. "What can have occurred?"

Betsy's face did not brighten.

"I am feeling very sad," she said, "because Mrs. Wilks, our kind Lady-Governess, has gone away. Every one was at the boat to see her go, and at the castle. It was like a funeral, no one with a dry eye, and all saying, 'G.o.d bless you, and a safe and happy voyage home.'"

Betsy paused for a moment, then continued: "Then they all followed the Governor and his family to the barge that was to take them to Havana, and groups of grief-stricken ladies wandered under the peepul trees of Sisters' Walk, watching the vessel."

"Did you cry too?" asked Napoleon.

"Indeed I did."

"I regret," added Napoleon, "that I had not known the Lady-Governess; she must have been so amiable."

Napoleon, as well as Betsy, probably realized that but for his coming the people of St. Helena might have retained their popular Governor, Mark Wilks. Before the arrival of Napoleon, the Governor of St. Helena was paid by the East India Company, though appointed by the Crown; but with so important a personage as Napoleon held there in captivity, it seemed wisest that full responsibility for him should be laid on the English Government. It was therefore decided, as we have before seen, that as soon as possible a Governor of higher rank should be sent out in place of Governor Wilks. The change at this time seemed unfortunate for the people of St. Helena. In Governor Wilks they had found an officer who had their interests more at heart than any preceding Governor. Could he have been Napoleon's custodian, the Emperor's exile would have been very much happier than it was with Sir Hudson Lowe in charge.

Betsy, like all who came in contact with Napoleon, sympathized deeply with his annoyance at the restrictions imposed on him by Sir Hudson Lowe. The story of the discussion between Napoleon's friends and the supporters of the Governor would be a long one to tell, but the fact remains, when all is said in Sir Hudson Lowe's favor, that he was far too narrow-minded for the important position that he held. Sir Hudson Lowe was a brave man and had served honorably in many wars, but the responsibility of guarding the fallen Emperor was too great for him, and his behavior toward the exile was in every way unfortunate.

Napoleon had been on the island just six months when Sir Hudson Lowe arrived. From the first he seemed possessed by the idea that Napoleon was constantly watching for some chance to escape. To those nearest Napoleon at St. Helena, the Governor's fears that he might escape seemed absurd. From the island posts approaching ships were seen twenty-four leagues off. Two ships of war were always cruising to windward and leeward. Only guard-boats were allowed out at night. All fishing boats were numbered and had to anchor every evening at sunset under the supervision of a lieutenant of the navy. No foreign vessels were permitted to anchor unless under great distress, and then no one from them could land until an officer and a party from the British ships went on board to take charge while they stayed. If he had cared to try flight, Napoleon could hardly have made his escape.

In the very beginning, when Lord Bathurst issued instructions for the custody of Napoleon, he expressed the earnest desire of the Prince Regent that no greater personal restraint might be employed than was necessary to make sure that Napoleon was securely held on the island.

Sir Hudson Lowe, however, in carrying out the instructions of the British Government, interpreted them as meaning that he should have constant information about all Napoleon's doings. To accomplish this was, of course, impossible, and his vain efforts made him the laughing-stock of the English as well as the French. In his very first interview with Napoleon the new Governor managed to offend him seriously, and Napoleon after this was so unwilling to see him that the two met only five times more during the five years that intervened until Napoleon's death; and these five interviews were all within the first three months after Sir Hudson Lowe's arrival.

Under the most favorable conditions Sir Hudson Lowe could hardly have been popular with the islanders themselves. Governor Wilks, his predecessor, had been unusually loved, and his charming wife and daughter had a firm hold on the affections of all the people of St.

Helena. Betsy, as we have seen, was extremely fond of Mrs. Wilks, whom she called the "Lady-Governess," and she had a young girl's admiration for the beautiful Miss Wilks, whose praises she continually sang to Napoleon. One day, not long before Miss Wilks left the island, Napoleon showed Betsy a portrait that General Gorgaud had drawn from memory of Miss Wilks, saying, "You think Miss Wilks beautiful. Gorgaud thinks so too, and this is his portrait from memory."

"Ah," replied Betsy, gazing at the portrait, "she is far more beautiful; and she is so clever and amiable."

"You are certainly enthusiastic, and I quite long to see her," responded Napoleon, evidently appreciative of Betsy's enthusiasm for her friend.

During the first months of Napoleon's exile, Colonel Wilks continued to act as Governor, but the direct custody of Napoleon was the business of Sir George c.o.c.kburn, who had brought the ill.u.s.trious prisoner on the _Northumberland_ from England. Not long after Napoleon went to Longwood an amusing incident happened, resulting from the panic of Captain Poppleton, the orderly officer whose duty it was to guard Napoleon on his rides.

The two sisters were sitting at dinner, with their father and Admiral c.o.c.kburn.

"See," cried Betsy to Jane, "here comes Captain Poppleton, looking as if he had lost his wits. Why is he alone? Don't you remember that he set out with the Emperor and Generals Bertrand, Montholon, and Gorgaud?"

"But you wouldn't expect them all to march in, when we have company, too," whispered Jane, looking toward the end of the table where her father was talking with his especial guest, the Admiral, Sir George c.o.c.kburn.

Before the girls could speculate further, Captain Poppleton broke out excitedly: