Napoleon's Rabbit Farmer, page 11
‘Does the Emperor plan to reclaim the crown of France like he did in 1815?’
‘I really don’t think that will be his intention,’ said Gourgaud. ‘I believe his biggest desire is to see his wife and son again. He wants to live a quiet life in one of the Italian cities.’
‘When will I leave for Cape Town?’
‘You will have a little longer here before we take you to the port of Brest. Count Las Cases has to give you a few more English lessons before your journey. If successful you will go down in history as the man who rescued the Emperor.’
Chapter 12
Napoleon chased the Grand Marshal Bertrand round the drawing room, trying to grab him by the ear. ‘Do you intend to insult me,’ shouted the Emperor, panting in his red flannel dressing gown.
‘I only said that you look a little yellow, Sire,’ responded Bertrand, a frown appearing on a handsome round face framed by greying side whiskers.
‘Do you mean to say I am bilious, morose, passionate, unjust, tyrannical? Let me get hold of your ear. I will have my revenge.’ Napoleon laughed as the Grand Marshal ducked and dodged him, trying to make for the door.
‘Seriously Sire, you must see a doctor.’
‘I will not see anyone appointed by the Governor. Only a fool would let his enemy appoint a doctor for him. What is the name of that man who has moved into O’Meara’s room?’
‘James Verling, Sire, assistant surgeon to the detachment of Royal Artillery. He came out on the Northumberland and has treated some of the Longwood household.’
‘I am sure he is very good at amputating limbs on the battlefield but he is the Governor’s man and will follow his orders. I would like a French doctor. My family could also send me a priest and new cook. Holding a mass on Sunday may help us pass the time. It is the dreariest day of the week.’
‘I will write to your uncle, the cardinal, Sire,’ said Bertrand. ‘In the meantime there is always O’Meara’s friend, John Stokoe. He is the surgeon on board the Conqueror at anchor off Jamestown.’
‘I allowed O’Meara to present him to me while I was walking in the garden,’ said the Emperor. ‘He speaks Italian and was at the battle of Trafalgar. I believe he travelled to St Helena for the sole purpose of meeting me and could be very useful to our cause.’
‘He received a reprimand from both Admiral Plampin and the Governor for coming up to Longwood without their permission,’ said Bertrand.
‘Then Stokoe has started off very well. Get Montholon to talk to the hangman about securing his services.’
The Count wasted no time in approaching Sir Hudson Lowe and decided to employ a more conciliatory approach. After O’Meara’s departure there was now no direct contact between the British and Emperor.
‘I am very far from approving the life General Bonaparte leads,’ Montholon told the Governor in his office at Plantation House. ‘His refusal to take exercise, to ride on horseback, to see anyone, even the doctor. All these things are childish follies.’
Lowe, a little surprised, nodded his agreement. ‘The new orderly officer Nicholls has frequently reported that he has not been able to see General Bonaparte. You know that he has orders to check on his presence twice a day.’
‘Not to call in a doctor when one is ill is to punish oneself,’ continued Montholon, ignoring the last remark. ‘The Emperor is seldom up more than two or three hours a day. He is so used to this that he now feels it necessary to remain in bed. He becomes weak in body – his blood thickens – and he declines every day with his liver complaint.’
Lowe fumbled with a pile of British newspapers on his desk. ‘Since O’Meara’s departure I have not been receiving reports on General Bonaparte’s health. Captain Nicholls told me that when he did catch sight of him he appeared exceedingly cadaverous and ghastly.’
‘The Emperor has said that he would be willing to see the surgeon Stokoe of the Conqueror while his request for a French physician is being considered by your government.’
‘Unfortunately Stokoe has been an outspoken critic of myself, the Colonial Secretary Lord Bathurst and Admiral Plampin. This matter will have to be given very careful thought.’
After waiting months for a decision, the French decided to try to force the matter at 3am one January morning. Captain Nicholls was woken in his Longwood quarters and handed a letter from Bertrand demanding the urgent assistance of Dr Stokoe.
‘The Emperor is in a very violent crisis,’ it read. ‘You are the only health officer in this country in whom he has shown confidence. I beg you not to lose a moment in coming to Longwood. I hope you will arrive during the night as I am much troubled.’
Nicholls, dazed by having his sleep disturbed, roused the two light dragoons responsible for carrying urgent messages. He gave one of them Bertrand’s letter. ‘Take this at once to Plantation House and hand it to the Governor. You must wake him. Go as fast as you can.’
Nicholls then scribbled a note for Admiral Plampin, who had moved into the Briars following the departure of the Balcombes. He would have to give the command to send Dr Stokoe from the Conqueror. The second dragoon was given the message and told to wake the Admiral. Mounting his horse, the perimeter guard stood aside and he galloped off into the night.
‘Get back to your posts,’ shouted Nicholls to the sentries, who had started talking among themselves. The captain marched across the Longwood yard grumbling to himself, his old wound from the battle of Vittoria causing him pain.
‘Dr Verling is a very respectable physician, is living here and has not been called to see Napoleon. He cannot be very ill,’ muttered Nicholls
After a hard ride, the first dragoon reached Plantation House where the Governor and his aide Gorrequer appeared with their jackets over their night shirts. Lowe wrote a note to the Admiral at 3.45am stating that a boat should be sent out to the Conqueror to fetch the surgeon Stokoe.
A fast horse was waiting for the physician when he landed at the quay in Jamestown and by 6.45 the breathless doctor was at Longwood, where he was greeted by a calm and relaxed Grand Marshal Bertrand.
‘Good morning doctor,’ he said. ‘We are very grateful for you coming at such short notice. A little after midnight the Emperor was attacked by vertigo and was unconscious for about 15 minutes. On coming round he took a hot bath and is now fast asleep, so there is no need for you to attend him. As way of an apology I would like you to share breakfast with me. My home is only a short distance away.’
‘Are you certain that I should not see General Bonaparte?’
‘Absolutely certain, do come this way. I have a very interesting proposal for you.’
Following a meal of meat, cheese and fruit in his small dining room, Bertrand handed the surgeon a carefully-worded contract.
‘What is this?’ said Stokoe, taking a third slice of a Cape orange coated in sugar.
‘The Emperor has decided that you should be his physician in the place of O’Meara, subject to a few conditions that have been listed. I am sure that you will find them acceptable. It states that you should not be subject to military discipline but act as though holding a civil appointment. You will serve the Emperor as if he was your countryman and not write any reports on his health without showing him the original.’
‘It sounds agreeable. Could I have a few moments to study the terms.’
‘Of course, take your time.’
‘Will I be able to have an audience with the Emperor shortly?’
‘Only after signing the agreement.’
Assuming that the Governor and Admiral would give their permission for Stokoe to be appointed O’Meara’s successor, he put pen to paper. Four hours after his arrival at Longwood the doctor was granted a private consultation with Napoleon that lasted several hours. When he emerged he wrote a lengthy report on the Emperor’s health that was very pleasing to Bertrand. ‘I found him in a very weak state, complaining of considerable pain in the right side, in the region of his liver,’ it read. ‘About midnight he had been seized with violent pains in the head, succeeded by vertigo and a loss of consciousness. After recovering from this he took a warm bath that produced violent perspiration, which relieved his symptoms considerably. It is highly necessary that a medical man should be near his person in order that immediate assistance can be given in case of a recurrence of the alarming symptoms as well as the daily treatment of the chronic hepatitis.’
At 2pm Stokoe went to see the Admiral at the Briars and showed him the terms and conditions of the French offer but kept in his pocket a copy of the report he had written on Napoleon’s illness.
‘These are so extraordinary,’ said Plampin studying the document in the presence of his secretary. ‘They will need careful consideration. Anyway Stokoe, I am not sure that I can spare you from the Squadron on a permanent basis.’
That evening at 9pm Bertrand handed Captain Nicholls another letter demanding that Stokoe be called to attend Napoleon. ‘I was expecting you this evening and you have not come. Since you saw the Emperor his weakness has been increasing. I wish you to come here as soon as possible.’
The surgeon did not get to Longwood until 5.30am the next day and spent 11 hours there. He reported that Napoleon was not in imminent danger but the climate could make his hepatitis fatal and a return of the vertigo would be equally dangerous if a doctor was not close at hand.
Stokoe was then informed that he could not be excused from military discipline without permission from the Admiralty and that his services would still be needed by Plampin’s Squadron. The Governor said that he could continue attending General Bonaparte but should do so in the presence of Dr Verling.
But when Stokoe was called to Longwood again the Emperor refused to let Verling into his room. Captain Nicholls warned Stokoe that it would be his sole responsibility if he defied the Governor and examined Bonaparte on his own.
The ship’s surgeon went ahead and that evening found the Emperor suffering a fever and severe headache. At 3am, after a great deal of persuasion, Napoloen let the doctor bleed him. ‘I do feel a little better,’ the Emperor admitted afterwards.
‘I now recommend that you take a strong dose of Cheltenham salts. I would be grateful, Your Majesty, if you would let me examine the area around your liver.’
‘I still have a pain in my side,’ said Napoleon raising his sweat-soaked shirt.
Stokoe began pushing with the tips of his fingers. ‘There is a little hardness there,’ said the doctor. ‘I strongly advise a course of mercury to rid your body of impurities.’
Bertrand was determined that Stokoe would go back and forth between his ship until the Governor and Admiral relented and let him take up residence at Longwood. After receiving a fourth letter calling for him to attend Napoleon, Stokoe wrote to the Admiral asking to be relieved of this duty.
But Plampin did not give an immediate answer and ordered Stokoe up to Longwood and to report back to him by 10.30 the next morning without fail. He was angry when the doctor finally arrived back at the Briars at 1.15pm.
‘Why are you so late? snapped Plampin. ‘I ordered you back here by 10.30am.’
‘General Bonaparte asked me to stay to see the effect of a warm bath.’
‘Was he so ill that your presence was absolutely necessary?’
‘No, I cannot say that but he wanted me to stay.’
‘You have disobeyed a direct order,’ said the Admiral. A week later Stokoe complained of ill health himself and was granted permission to leave St Helena for England.
***
Dr O’Meara planned to destroy the reputation of Sir Hudson Lowe and did not wait until he reached Europe to launch his attack. After a voyage of 600 miles, the Griffon anchored at the island of Ascension, which had been occupied by the Royal Navy to stop it becoming a staging post for a mission to rescue Bonaparte. ‘The Governor of St Helena wanted me to do away with him,’ the doctor told the commander of Ascension, Lieutenant Cuppage. ‘By that I mean poison Napoleon Bonaparte. Of course I will be making a full report to the Admiralty.’ O’Meara repeated the allegation to officers of HMS Favourite, which was also at anchor, including the ship’s surgeon James Hall. They were very keen to hear what Napoleon’s former doctor had to say about the prisoner. ‘In May 1816 Lowe tried to have me replaced by the senior physician Alexander Baxter. When that failed he held many private conversations with me under the trees or in my room at Longwood. On these occasions he made observations on how Europe would benefit from the death of Napoleon. He spoke in a manner that was particularly distressing to me.’
O’Meara wasted no time reporting his arrival in England to the Lords of the Admiralty, and was confident that he would receive the support of senior officers in his battle with Sir Hudson Lowe. But their response was hostile, and he was accused of a ‘monstrous overture’ against the personal character of the Governor and the English nation. The Admiralty was suspicious that he had kept the poisoning allegation secret for two years.
‘Either the charge is false and defamatory or you can have no excuse for suppressing it,’ they said. ‘The Lords consider you an improper person to continue in the service of His Majesty’s Navy.’
O’Meara’s dismissal from the Royal Navy was not a massive blow as he was now in the pay of Napoleon. ‘You will bear my affections to my good wife Marie Louise and my excellent mother,’ the Emperor had told him at their parting. ‘If you see my son, embrace him for me. May he never forget that he was born a French prince.’
***
‘I had cherished the dream of ending my days in Malta or the Belle Ile off Brittany,’ said Napoleon on hearing the news that the congress of European powers had not only approved his continued captivity but urged the English to increase their restrictions on him. ‘All hope is gone,’ the Emperor told Montholon. ‘I thought I could rely on the moderation of my father-in-law Francis and the goodwill of the Tsar Alexander. Now I am doomed to die on this island. Twenty breath-taking years have led to this nothingness.’
Chapter 13
Cape Colony, Spring 1819
Francois Robeaud admired the beauty of the harbour, framed by a mountain that looked like a giant altar to the gods with a cloth of fine white clouds. The Gulden Zeepaert was dropping anchor in a gentle sea after a voyage of nearly three months and the excited passengers had gathered in the early morning sunshine on the bustling deck of the Dutch trading vessel. ‘That is Table Mountain,’ said an officer to Robeaud. ‘It is quite a sight, isn’t it? And over there is Devil’s Peak.’
The smartly-dressed farmer nodded and smiled, grateful that the first part of his long journey, which had started at Brest, was now over. He watched two launches approach through the port that was a forest of masts. Robeaud’s nerves were building as he would shortly be meeting the Bonapartist agent Louis Dumot. The mission to free the Emperor was about to begin. Stepping on to the quay, the farmer’s luggage was picked up by two black porters and he gave them the name of the tavern where he had been instructed to go. Robeaud had never seen so many nationalities as he walked through a port that was an important supply station for ships travelling from India and the Far East. Observing him from a short distance was Dumot, who had been an espionage officer for Napoleon during the campaigns in Spain and Portugal. He had a tall, muscular frame and a broad brimmed black felt hat shaded his shoulder length dark hair and tanned face. Robeaud was attempting to cross a boulevard that was blocked by a wagon being pulled by 12 oxen, the dust from the arid road creating a choking cloud, when Dumot appeared at his side as if from nowhere. ‘Welcome my friend. It is Robeaud, am I correct?’
‘You are sir, how did you know?’
‘I have been expecting you, and I must say you have more than a passing resemblance to the Emperor, whom I have served for many years.’ A smile appeared on the agent’s face, he adjusted his hat and gestured to the two men carrying Robeaud’s luggage. ‘Take the trunks to the Lime House on Adderley Street,’ he told them. ‘Let me show you around,’ he said to Robeaud. ‘Come this way.’
‘I have never seen such a colourful place,’ said the farmer gazing back towards the harbour.
‘It has changed quite a bit since the English took over the colony from the Dutch a few years back. They have made laws to eradicate slavery. My apartments are a short distance from here. I am sure you are hungry.’
Dumot took the farmer to one of Cape Town’s grandest roads and up the steps of a two-storey house. Showing Robeaud through a second-floor sitting room and onto a balcony overlooking the street, he ordered his housekeeper to arrange lunch.
‘I am not sure if you are aware, but you will not be in the Cape for long,’ he told Robeaud. ‘There is a very tight time frame to get you to St Helena.’
‘That is a shame. I would have liked the chance to explore.’
‘You must tell me the news from Europe and about yourself. Then we will get down to business.’
During the meal Robeaud showed his newly-acquired table manners that were drummed into him by Las Cases and enjoyed two glasses of Cape wine.
‘Before you become the Emperor of France you will impersonate a Dutch trader in precious metals and ivory called Henri van Riebeck,’ said the agent, sipping from a tiny cup of black coffee.
‘His office is a few streets from here and we will watch him for a few days so that you can get an idea of his trade and what he is like. Once a year he travels to St Helena to do business with a jeweller called Gideon Solomon and then goes on to Europe. The captains of ships anchoring there have to submit a list of passengers who wish to land to the British authorities. They will be familiar with van Riebeck’s name and give permission. I have been informed that he will be sailing for the island in a week’s time. You will take his place and have his clothes, watch, bag ... everything. You will then go to Solomon’s shop where, all being well, the Emperor will be waiting to leave the island.’
‘Has van Riebeck agreed to help us?’ asked Robeaud, watching a young black maid clearing the plates from the table.
‘No, unfortunately he must be removed for the plan to succeed. We thought about bribing him but that would be too dangerous. We cannot risk him taking the money then informing the British.’
‘I really don’t think that will be his intention,’ said Gourgaud. ‘I believe his biggest desire is to see his wife and son again. He wants to live a quiet life in one of the Italian cities.’
‘When will I leave for Cape Town?’
‘You will have a little longer here before we take you to the port of Brest. Count Las Cases has to give you a few more English lessons before your journey. If successful you will go down in history as the man who rescued the Emperor.’
Chapter 12
Napoleon chased the Grand Marshal Bertrand round the drawing room, trying to grab him by the ear. ‘Do you intend to insult me,’ shouted the Emperor, panting in his red flannel dressing gown.
‘I only said that you look a little yellow, Sire,’ responded Bertrand, a frown appearing on a handsome round face framed by greying side whiskers.
‘Do you mean to say I am bilious, morose, passionate, unjust, tyrannical? Let me get hold of your ear. I will have my revenge.’ Napoleon laughed as the Grand Marshal ducked and dodged him, trying to make for the door.
‘Seriously Sire, you must see a doctor.’
‘I will not see anyone appointed by the Governor. Only a fool would let his enemy appoint a doctor for him. What is the name of that man who has moved into O’Meara’s room?’
‘James Verling, Sire, assistant surgeon to the detachment of Royal Artillery. He came out on the Northumberland and has treated some of the Longwood household.’
‘I am sure he is very good at amputating limbs on the battlefield but he is the Governor’s man and will follow his orders. I would like a French doctor. My family could also send me a priest and new cook. Holding a mass on Sunday may help us pass the time. It is the dreariest day of the week.’
‘I will write to your uncle, the cardinal, Sire,’ said Bertrand. ‘In the meantime there is always O’Meara’s friend, John Stokoe. He is the surgeon on board the Conqueror at anchor off Jamestown.’
‘I allowed O’Meara to present him to me while I was walking in the garden,’ said the Emperor. ‘He speaks Italian and was at the battle of Trafalgar. I believe he travelled to St Helena for the sole purpose of meeting me and could be very useful to our cause.’
‘He received a reprimand from both Admiral Plampin and the Governor for coming up to Longwood without their permission,’ said Bertrand.
‘Then Stokoe has started off very well. Get Montholon to talk to the hangman about securing his services.’
The Count wasted no time in approaching Sir Hudson Lowe and decided to employ a more conciliatory approach. After O’Meara’s departure there was now no direct contact between the British and Emperor.
‘I am very far from approving the life General Bonaparte leads,’ Montholon told the Governor in his office at Plantation House. ‘His refusal to take exercise, to ride on horseback, to see anyone, even the doctor. All these things are childish follies.’
Lowe, a little surprised, nodded his agreement. ‘The new orderly officer Nicholls has frequently reported that he has not been able to see General Bonaparte. You know that he has orders to check on his presence twice a day.’
‘Not to call in a doctor when one is ill is to punish oneself,’ continued Montholon, ignoring the last remark. ‘The Emperor is seldom up more than two or three hours a day. He is so used to this that he now feels it necessary to remain in bed. He becomes weak in body – his blood thickens – and he declines every day with his liver complaint.’
Lowe fumbled with a pile of British newspapers on his desk. ‘Since O’Meara’s departure I have not been receiving reports on General Bonaparte’s health. Captain Nicholls told me that when he did catch sight of him he appeared exceedingly cadaverous and ghastly.’
‘The Emperor has said that he would be willing to see the surgeon Stokoe of the Conqueror while his request for a French physician is being considered by your government.’
‘Unfortunately Stokoe has been an outspoken critic of myself, the Colonial Secretary Lord Bathurst and Admiral Plampin. This matter will have to be given very careful thought.’
After waiting months for a decision, the French decided to try to force the matter at 3am one January morning. Captain Nicholls was woken in his Longwood quarters and handed a letter from Bertrand demanding the urgent assistance of Dr Stokoe.
‘The Emperor is in a very violent crisis,’ it read. ‘You are the only health officer in this country in whom he has shown confidence. I beg you not to lose a moment in coming to Longwood. I hope you will arrive during the night as I am much troubled.’
Nicholls, dazed by having his sleep disturbed, roused the two light dragoons responsible for carrying urgent messages. He gave one of them Bertrand’s letter. ‘Take this at once to Plantation House and hand it to the Governor. You must wake him. Go as fast as you can.’
Nicholls then scribbled a note for Admiral Plampin, who had moved into the Briars following the departure of the Balcombes. He would have to give the command to send Dr Stokoe from the Conqueror. The second dragoon was given the message and told to wake the Admiral. Mounting his horse, the perimeter guard stood aside and he galloped off into the night.
‘Get back to your posts,’ shouted Nicholls to the sentries, who had started talking among themselves. The captain marched across the Longwood yard grumbling to himself, his old wound from the battle of Vittoria causing him pain.
‘Dr Verling is a very respectable physician, is living here and has not been called to see Napoleon. He cannot be very ill,’ muttered Nicholls
After a hard ride, the first dragoon reached Plantation House where the Governor and his aide Gorrequer appeared with their jackets over their night shirts. Lowe wrote a note to the Admiral at 3.45am stating that a boat should be sent out to the Conqueror to fetch the surgeon Stokoe.
A fast horse was waiting for the physician when he landed at the quay in Jamestown and by 6.45 the breathless doctor was at Longwood, where he was greeted by a calm and relaxed Grand Marshal Bertrand.
‘Good morning doctor,’ he said. ‘We are very grateful for you coming at such short notice. A little after midnight the Emperor was attacked by vertigo and was unconscious for about 15 minutes. On coming round he took a hot bath and is now fast asleep, so there is no need for you to attend him. As way of an apology I would like you to share breakfast with me. My home is only a short distance away.’
‘Are you certain that I should not see General Bonaparte?’
‘Absolutely certain, do come this way. I have a very interesting proposal for you.’
Following a meal of meat, cheese and fruit in his small dining room, Bertrand handed the surgeon a carefully-worded contract.
‘What is this?’ said Stokoe, taking a third slice of a Cape orange coated in sugar.
‘The Emperor has decided that you should be his physician in the place of O’Meara, subject to a few conditions that have been listed. I am sure that you will find them acceptable. It states that you should not be subject to military discipline but act as though holding a civil appointment. You will serve the Emperor as if he was your countryman and not write any reports on his health without showing him the original.’
‘It sounds agreeable. Could I have a few moments to study the terms.’
‘Of course, take your time.’
‘Will I be able to have an audience with the Emperor shortly?’
‘Only after signing the agreement.’
Assuming that the Governor and Admiral would give their permission for Stokoe to be appointed O’Meara’s successor, he put pen to paper. Four hours after his arrival at Longwood the doctor was granted a private consultation with Napoleon that lasted several hours. When he emerged he wrote a lengthy report on the Emperor’s health that was very pleasing to Bertrand. ‘I found him in a very weak state, complaining of considerable pain in the right side, in the region of his liver,’ it read. ‘About midnight he had been seized with violent pains in the head, succeeded by vertigo and a loss of consciousness. After recovering from this he took a warm bath that produced violent perspiration, which relieved his symptoms considerably. It is highly necessary that a medical man should be near his person in order that immediate assistance can be given in case of a recurrence of the alarming symptoms as well as the daily treatment of the chronic hepatitis.’
At 2pm Stokoe went to see the Admiral at the Briars and showed him the terms and conditions of the French offer but kept in his pocket a copy of the report he had written on Napoleon’s illness.
‘These are so extraordinary,’ said Plampin studying the document in the presence of his secretary. ‘They will need careful consideration. Anyway Stokoe, I am not sure that I can spare you from the Squadron on a permanent basis.’
That evening at 9pm Bertrand handed Captain Nicholls another letter demanding that Stokoe be called to attend Napoleon. ‘I was expecting you this evening and you have not come. Since you saw the Emperor his weakness has been increasing. I wish you to come here as soon as possible.’
The surgeon did not get to Longwood until 5.30am the next day and spent 11 hours there. He reported that Napoleon was not in imminent danger but the climate could make his hepatitis fatal and a return of the vertigo would be equally dangerous if a doctor was not close at hand.
Stokoe was then informed that he could not be excused from military discipline without permission from the Admiralty and that his services would still be needed by Plampin’s Squadron. The Governor said that he could continue attending General Bonaparte but should do so in the presence of Dr Verling.
But when Stokoe was called to Longwood again the Emperor refused to let Verling into his room. Captain Nicholls warned Stokoe that it would be his sole responsibility if he defied the Governor and examined Bonaparte on his own.
The ship’s surgeon went ahead and that evening found the Emperor suffering a fever and severe headache. At 3am, after a great deal of persuasion, Napoloen let the doctor bleed him. ‘I do feel a little better,’ the Emperor admitted afterwards.
‘I now recommend that you take a strong dose of Cheltenham salts. I would be grateful, Your Majesty, if you would let me examine the area around your liver.’
‘I still have a pain in my side,’ said Napoleon raising his sweat-soaked shirt.
Stokoe began pushing with the tips of his fingers. ‘There is a little hardness there,’ said the doctor. ‘I strongly advise a course of mercury to rid your body of impurities.’
Bertrand was determined that Stokoe would go back and forth between his ship until the Governor and Admiral relented and let him take up residence at Longwood. After receiving a fourth letter calling for him to attend Napoleon, Stokoe wrote to the Admiral asking to be relieved of this duty.
But Plampin did not give an immediate answer and ordered Stokoe up to Longwood and to report back to him by 10.30 the next morning without fail. He was angry when the doctor finally arrived back at the Briars at 1.15pm.
‘Why are you so late? snapped Plampin. ‘I ordered you back here by 10.30am.’
‘General Bonaparte asked me to stay to see the effect of a warm bath.’
‘Was he so ill that your presence was absolutely necessary?’
‘No, I cannot say that but he wanted me to stay.’
‘You have disobeyed a direct order,’ said the Admiral. A week later Stokoe complained of ill health himself and was granted permission to leave St Helena for England.
***
Dr O’Meara planned to destroy the reputation of Sir Hudson Lowe and did not wait until he reached Europe to launch his attack. After a voyage of 600 miles, the Griffon anchored at the island of Ascension, which had been occupied by the Royal Navy to stop it becoming a staging post for a mission to rescue Bonaparte. ‘The Governor of St Helena wanted me to do away with him,’ the doctor told the commander of Ascension, Lieutenant Cuppage. ‘By that I mean poison Napoleon Bonaparte. Of course I will be making a full report to the Admiralty.’ O’Meara repeated the allegation to officers of HMS Favourite, which was also at anchor, including the ship’s surgeon James Hall. They were very keen to hear what Napoleon’s former doctor had to say about the prisoner. ‘In May 1816 Lowe tried to have me replaced by the senior physician Alexander Baxter. When that failed he held many private conversations with me under the trees or in my room at Longwood. On these occasions he made observations on how Europe would benefit from the death of Napoleon. He spoke in a manner that was particularly distressing to me.’
O’Meara wasted no time reporting his arrival in England to the Lords of the Admiralty, and was confident that he would receive the support of senior officers in his battle with Sir Hudson Lowe. But their response was hostile, and he was accused of a ‘monstrous overture’ against the personal character of the Governor and the English nation. The Admiralty was suspicious that he had kept the poisoning allegation secret for two years.
‘Either the charge is false and defamatory or you can have no excuse for suppressing it,’ they said. ‘The Lords consider you an improper person to continue in the service of His Majesty’s Navy.’
O’Meara’s dismissal from the Royal Navy was not a massive blow as he was now in the pay of Napoleon. ‘You will bear my affections to my good wife Marie Louise and my excellent mother,’ the Emperor had told him at their parting. ‘If you see my son, embrace him for me. May he never forget that he was born a French prince.’
***
‘I had cherished the dream of ending my days in Malta or the Belle Ile off Brittany,’ said Napoleon on hearing the news that the congress of European powers had not only approved his continued captivity but urged the English to increase their restrictions on him. ‘All hope is gone,’ the Emperor told Montholon. ‘I thought I could rely on the moderation of my father-in-law Francis and the goodwill of the Tsar Alexander. Now I am doomed to die on this island. Twenty breath-taking years have led to this nothingness.’
Chapter 13
Cape Colony, Spring 1819
Francois Robeaud admired the beauty of the harbour, framed by a mountain that looked like a giant altar to the gods with a cloth of fine white clouds. The Gulden Zeepaert was dropping anchor in a gentle sea after a voyage of nearly three months and the excited passengers had gathered in the early morning sunshine on the bustling deck of the Dutch trading vessel. ‘That is Table Mountain,’ said an officer to Robeaud. ‘It is quite a sight, isn’t it? And over there is Devil’s Peak.’
The smartly-dressed farmer nodded and smiled, grateful that the first part of his long journey, which had started at Brest, was now over. He watched two launches approach through the port that was a forest of masts. Robeaud’s nerves were building as he would shortly be meeting the Bonapartist agent Louis Dumot. The mission to free the Emperor was about to begin. Stepping on to the quay, the farmer’s luggage was picked up by two black porters and he gave them the name of the tavern where he had been instructed to go. Robeaud had never seen so many nationalities as he walked through a port that was an important supply station for ships travelling from India and the Far East. Observing him from a short distance was Dumot, who had been an espionage officer for Napoleon during the campaigns in Spain and Portugal. He had a tall, muscular frame and a broad brimmed black felt hat shaded his shoulder length dark hair and tanned face. Robeaud was attempting to cross a boulevard that was blocked by a wagon being pulled by 12 oxen, the dust from the arid road creating a choking cloud, when Dumot appeared at his side as if from nowhere. ‘Welcome my friend. It is Robeaud, am I correct?’
‘You are sir, how did you know?’
‘I have been expecting you, and I must say you have more than a passing resemblance to the Emperor, whom I have served for many years.’ A smile appeared on the agent’s face, he adjusted his hat and gestured to the two men carrying Robeaud’s luggage. ‘Take the trunks to the Lime House on Adderley Street,’ he told them. ‘Let me show you around,’ he said to Robeaud. ‘Come this way.’
‘I have never seen such a colourful place,’ said the farmer gazing back towards the harbour.
‘It has changed quite a bit since the English took over the colony from the Dutch a few years back. They have made laws to eradicate slavery. My apartments are a short distance from here. I am sure you are hungry.’
Dumot took the farmer to one of Cape Town’s grandest roads and up the steps of a two-storey house. Showing Robeaud through a second-floor sitting room and onto a balcony overlooking the street, he ordered his housekeeper to arrange lunch.
‘I am not sure if you are aware, but you will not be in the Cape for long,’ he told Robeaud. ‘There is a very tight time frame to get you to St Helena.’
‘That is a shame. I would have liked the chance to explore.’
‘You must tell me the news from Europe and about yourself. Then we will get down to business.’
During the meal Robeaud showed his newly-acquired table manners that were drummed into him by Las Cases and enjoyed two glasses of Cape wine.
‘Before you become the Emperor of France you will impersonate a Dutch trader in precious metals and ivory called Henri van Riebeck,’ said the agent, sipping from a tiny cup of black coffee.
‘His office is a few streets from here and we will watch him for a few days so that you can get an idea of his trade and what he is like. Once a year he travels to St Helena to do business with a jeweller called Gideon Solomon and then goes on to Europe. The captains of ships anchoring there have to submit a list of passengers who wish to land to the British authorities. They will be familiar with van Riebeck’s name and give permission. I have been informed that he will be sailing for the island in a week’s time. You will take his place and have his clothes, watch, bag ... everything. You will then go to Solomon’s shop where, all being well, the Emperor will be waiting to leave the island.’
‘Has van Riebeck agreed to help us?’ asked Robeaud, watching a young black maid clearing the plates from the table.
‘No, unfortunately he must be removed for the plan to succeed. We thought about bribing him but that would be too dangerous. We cannot risk him taking the money then informing the British.’
