Let's Start Again

Eau Tropicale (Let’s Start Again)

The American vessel Essex dropped anchor in Jamestown Bay on October 20th 1819. The bay was full of ships at that time, as General Bertrand, his aide, reported to the Emperor. Napoleon never visited Jamestown but he liked to be kept informed of all the events on the island.
“I believe it is a whaling ship, sire,” Bertrand reported-“out of the port of Nantucket.’ The Emperor nodded, staring out of the window at the bleak rows of cacti and aloes in Longwood’s garden.
“I planned to seek refuge in the United States after Waterloo, as you know. Instead, I surrendered to the English. I thought they would treat me as an officer and a gentleman...” His voice trailed away and Bertrand felt tears pricking his eyes. He remembered the words of the odious Governor Hudson Lowe;
“Do not complain about the conditions here,” he had sneered. “We could have handed him over to the Russians; they would have shot him.” The British had chosen a slower end for Napoleon and his entourage. The strange, unhealthy climate on the most inaccessible of their island possessions would ensure an early death for them all.
The Emperor’s attention wandered to another topic. He declared that the rat problem was getting worse. He had tripped over two of the creatures in the dining room at breakfast.
“Rats, termites and mynah birds are the curse of this island,” he declared. He was in a lugubrious mood and Bertrand knew what that meant. The memoirs would be abandoned and Napoleon would take a bath. He spent hours in his bathtub when his mood was low, as it invariably was these days.
“The new wallpaper in the dining room is already peeling off,” was the Emperor’s parting comment as Bertrand left the room. There was no point in mentioning this to the Governor; he had already complained of the cost of the decorations to the British taxpayer.
The General was clearing away the books and pens in the library when the valet, Cipriani, brought in a letter. Captain Richard Swayne of the Essex urgently desired the privilege of an audience with the Emperor. He had obtained permission from Hudson Lowe and would wait upon His Imperial Majesty in two days time, if this was agreeable.
Bertrand was surprised and delighted. He had no idea how the American had persuaded the cantankerous governor to allow him access to Longwood, but a distraction was just what Napoleon needed. If he could persuade his increasingly lethargic master to agree the gloom might lift for an hour or two.
The General shuddered as he left the house to return to his wife and family. The oppressive atmosphere of the place was an almost physical weight. You felt it pressing down, choking you in the small rooms. He hesitated outside the front door and then retraced his steps. He found Cipriani arranging towels and opening bottles of the Emperor’s favourite eau de cologne which was sent from Paris in large quantities. The valet agreed to mention the proposed visit at a suitable moment. Bertrand left feeling guilty but relieved.
As he pored over the maps in the library on the following morning, reliving past glories, Napoleon agreed to the visit without enthusiasm.
“What will we discuss...the finer points of whaling? I am a soldier, not a seafarer. Why has Lowe allowed it? The man may be a spy.”
Bertrand tried to reassure him; what could a spy hope to discover? The Americans were friends and allies of France, enemies of the English. Another note was handed in by the valet, a curt message from Lowe saying that a “courtesy visit” would be allowed by “a foreign citizen.” Cipriani enquired whether he should serve tea to the visitor. Americans spoke English so he assumed they drank tea. Napoleon waved him away irritably, demanding cognac.
Captain Swayne arrived at three the next afternoon accompanied by two officers from the ship. Napoleon received them in the billiard room with his customary courtesy. The captain recalled years later that the Emperor wore a grey frock coat. He had beautiful hands and a charming smile. There was a strong smell of cologne, the scent of citrus fruits, bergamot and rosemary that fought with the strange, overpowering odour in the house. Swayne had felt nauseous when he entered the building.
As if he could read his mind, the Emperor smiled and remarked, “You have noticed the smell of Longwood, then? It’s very powerful, is it not?” Swayne agreed apologetically. “Do you know what it is?” demanded the Emperor, striking a theatrical pose with an arm tucked into his waistcoat. “It is the stink of tropical decay and misery. Exile has its own perfume--of despair and defeat.”
Bertrand hastily suggested a tour of the house. In the library the captain begged leave to speak to the Emperor alone. The aide looked alarmed but he was ordered to wait outside with the two officers.
Swayne and Napoleon sat at a table and the American spoke rapidly in a low voice.
“I am appalled, Your Majesty, to see the poor state in which you are kept here, but your trials can soon be at an end. I have come to rescue you and bring you to the United States at the request of the American people.” Napoleon gave an unexpected, high-pitched laugh.
“I thank you, captain, but I fear you have lost your mind. How do you propose to magic me away from this island? I am guarded by 2,784 soldiers; you must have seen them when you arrived. A squadron of three frigates, two armed ships and six brigs cruise around the island continuously. Incoming ships are closely watched. What can you do in the face of such things -- render me invisible?”
The captain nodded: “In a manner of speaking, yes! We have a secret weapon -- your double.” The Emperor stared at him then commented drily that he had not thought the world big enough for two Napoleons.
“Even my brother Joseph does not resemble me.” Swayne assured him that he had a man on board who could pass as his twin.
“I will bring him here tomorrow disguised as an officer. He will change places with you and you will return to the ship.” The captain pointed out that the Emperor’s isolation aided the plan. “It is true, is it not, that Hudson Lowe never visits you? Sometimes you do not leave the house for several days. By the time the deception is discovered we will be days at sea. There are other American ships in the area. We can pass you from one to the other if the English follow us.”
“Of course they will follow!” Napoleon spluttered, leaping out of his chair. “They are armed, fast...it is ridiculous. But what have I to lose? I am dying slowly here. We are all unwell--it is the accursed climate. My letters are censored and they refuse me my title. I am known only as General Bonaparte.” He turned to Swayne again.
“What title will I have in your country? I am an Emperor.”
“We no longer have royalty.” Napoleon shook his head.
“If I had stayed in Egypt I would be Emperor of the Orient by now.” The captain tapped on the table impatiently.
“We Americans do not dwell on the past, sire. We live in the present and anticipate a bright future. Our President will grant you an honorary title, President of the New World. You will not be our ruler but you will be our honored guest -- and adviser!
The English will be furious, but they will not try to invade us again.”
The Emperor savoured the title, repeating it under his breath. It conjured up vistas of vast territories, virgin forests and great mountain ranges.
“How small Europe must seem to you,” he murmured.
Napoleon questioned the captain closely about his ability to persuade Lowe to allow one or more visits. He explained with a hint of suspicion in his voice that this was exceptional. Swayne said that he was a distant relative of Hudson Lowe’s wife and had thus been accorded special treatment.
“You know how punctilious the English are about such things, sire. Lowe may not like Americans very much but a relative is a relative. However, the ship was searched on arrival. I do not think it will be searched again, but it is not a cause for concern. People see what they expect to see and they do not expect to see Napoleon dressed as a sailor.”
The Emperor nodded his approval, “But it would be wise for my double to appear outside Longwood for a few minutes. My captors like to have sight of me each day.”
“We can do this, Your Majesty” were Swayne’s parting words. Only Bertrand and Cipriani were to know of the plot. They prepared to take tearful farewells of their hero. Bertrand wondered uneasily what the repercussions would be.
“Hudson Lowe will be blamed and he will vent his fury on us.’ Cipriani shrugged, unperturbed. ‘I look forward to being sent back to France. I have served the Emperor loyally but I will be glad to see the last of this accursed island.”
Napoleon remained in the library until the early hours. The house was very quiet except for the sounds of shuffling paper and the scuttle and swish of insects and rats. He reflected that only the wild life truly enjoyed the island.
Cipriani would burn his private papers in the morning. Scraps and notes were scattered across the Emperor’s desk; lines appeared at random, catching his eye.
“I assembled 124,000 men and 344 guns for the battle of Waterloo. I might have defeated the English if the Prussians had not joined forces with them. Damn that monster Blucher.” Should he mention that he was feeling unwell that day? It might be seen as a plea for sympathy for the vanquished. He wondered how truthful his memoirs should be. History would always be written by the victors.
“Did I lose the battle because I was suffering from a stomach upset?” he asked his reflection in the mirror. “They said my face was like white wax on the morning of the battle. No, I lost because of Wellington and the Prussians.”
He began to screw the sheets of paper into balls. It would all be destroyed, everything he had written. He would begin the memoirs again in the United States. It was possible that all Europe would thank the Americans for removing him seven thousand miles. The man who had conquered and terrorised a continent –“well, most of it, except for the damned British”-- would be out of the way permanently.
“Wellington had great respect for my military genius,” he murmured to himself. “He said my presence on the battlefield was worth forty thousand men. The Englishman was a pretty fair General too--a worthy opponent.” Leaving the papers where they lay, he retired to bed.
When the Americans re-appeared on the following day Napoleon was struck dumb, momentarily, by the sight of his doppelganger. Later, he would admit to a moment of superstitious dread at the sight of the man. However, when the man spoke in a strong Boston accent the Emperor relaxed and smiled. ‘Your voice will certainly give Hudson Lowe a shock when he meets you!”
A few days later the Essex was in open waters facing a 3,000 kilometre journey home. The Emperor stood on deck watching the wastes of the South Atlantic wash around the ship. The black bulk of St Helena was out of sight; that island shat by the devil as he flew from one world to the next.
Napoleon raised his spyglass, the only possession he had been able to bring with him. The three year exile was at an end. Over the horizon lay the New World and he would be its head of state! He tapped the pocket of his sailor’s jacket that contained a piece of paper with the recipe for eau de cologne.
Away on the horizon a sail could be seen.

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End

2040 words