ESCAPE PLANS AND CONSPIRACIES
From submarine escapes to arsenic poisoning, the final years of the Emperor’s life are shrouded in plots and controversy. Historian Sir Brian Unwin unravels the real story of Napoleon’s last days, as well as the truth behind the wildest conspiracy theorie
On 5 May 1821, Napoleon passed away in exile on the Island of St Helena. By many accounts the six years since his arrival had been unhappy for the Emperor, who had reportedly gained weight and become increasingly unwell. His death at the age of
51 is now suspected to have been caused by stomach cancer – a painful and pitiful passing for France’s greatest contemporary hero. Of course, for a man whose entire life had been spent building a legend, his death, perhaps due to its relatively sad and quiet circumstances, could never be accepted. Almost immediately a wealth of ‘conspiracy’ theories and rumours surrounding Napoleon’s time on the island began to circulate, many of which still cause speculation to this day. From tales of submarine escape attempts to accusations of poisoning from Napoleon’s own doctor, the two intervening centuries have produced a raft of rumoured plots and supposed schemes.
Upon his arrival at St Helena in 1815, Napoleon was given residence at Longwood House, a converted farmhouse originally designed for the governor of the island. Yet this was not a repeat of his comparatively lavish stay on Elba during his first exile, during which time the Emperor had been allowed to retain his title. On Elba he had even been granted a small military and naval force and been given sovereignty over the entire island.
Sir Brian Unwin, author of
describes the conditions Napoleon faced on the island: “He was a prisoner. There were almost 2,000 troops to guard him. The population of the island was only [a few thousand]. So just imagine 2,000 troops simply as a guard, not to mention an admiral with a small flotilla sailing 24 hours round the island to prevent any possible attempt to rescue him.” Compared to his ten months on Elba, these new arrangements gave Napoleon barely any freedoms. “He was absolutely furious with these restrictions,” Unwin continues.
“He regarded them as utterly outrageous and in breach of every conceivable international and humane law. That was one of the sort of running battles for the rest of his stay there as he protested these restrictions.”
None could have blamed St Helena’s governor, Sir Hudson Lowe, for being concerned about his prisoner giving him the slip. Napoleon’s previous escape had caused much embarrassment, not to mention a renewed war in Europe that cost thousands of lives. Lowe was determined to have no such repeat under his watch, and plans were put in place should any escape attempt occur. One plot even involved the famed naval commander and the inspiration behind the Hornblower novels, Thomas Cochrane, as Unwin explains: “There were many rumours of plots in the United States among Bonapartists. There was a plan that involved Cochrane putting together a fleet to sail over and attempt to rescue Napoleon from St Helena, but that never came to anything.”
Terrible Exile: The Last Days Of Napoleon On St Helena,
A subaquatic escape?
General Charles Tristan, marquis de Montholon, one of Napoleon’s companions during his exile, mentions a variety of other plots in his memoirs. Of these, one in particular stands out, and involves an unnamed naval captain whose “vessel was returning from the Indies” and who had “arranged everything so as to be able to receive the Emperor in a boat at a point of the coast previously designated and convey him to his vessel without running the slightest risk of being stopped”. Whatever the reason, this daring operation was never carried out.
“There’s a bizarre story about a plan to build a submarine,” says Unwin. The plan was “to bring the ship over, launch the
little submarine, snatch Napoleon off the beach, take him back in the submarine, put him on the ship and take him away”. Though at first seemingly ludicrous, this plot may have in fact worked. Sometime around 1620 Cornelis Drebbel had managed to dive 15 feet beneath the River Thames in his ‘diving boat’, and during the American Revolution David Bushnell invented the ‘Turtle’, a one-man submarine that used a hand-crank and foot-pump for propulsion. In 1776, the Continental Army’s Ezra Lee attempted to use the Turtle to fix a bomb on the hull of the British warship HMS Eagle. Lee was unsuccessful and it would not be until decades after Napoleon’s death that more practical submarines would be built. However, the proof of concept was certainly there at the time, suggesting that however unlikely, Napoleon’s extraction via submarine was not entirely impossible.
At the heart of this supposed subaquatic scheme is inventor, adventurer and notorious smuggler Thomas Johnson (sometimes called Johnstone), a fascinating historical figure whose larger-than-life antics remain mostly forgotten. Despite his criminal enterprises
(he was imprisoned on multiple occasions) his nautical prowess saw him commanding a pair of secret missions for the Royal Navy during the Napoleonic Wars. By 1815 Johnson had become known for his skill and ingenuity, and he was said to have been hired to build and pilot a small submersible craft with the intention of rescuing Napoleon. In an obscure 1835 novel entitled Scenes
And Stories, By A Clergyman In Debt (in a section believed to have been written by Johnson himself) the entire plan is laid out.
The plot involved Johnson landing the submarine on St Helena and, after somehow making his way to Longwood House, obtaining an introduction to Napoleon and providing him with the disguise of a coachman’s groom. The two would then flee to the cliffs where, using a “mechanical chair” (most likely a form of Bosun’s Chair) the Emperor would then be lowered to the beach and the two would board a smaller submarine (named the Etna) which would then take them to an even larger submersible (The Eagle).
When questioned over how they would have avoided any pursuing enemy ships, Johnson responded: “Under water we should await the approach of an enemy and then, with the aid of the little Etna, attaching the torpedo to her bottom, effect her destruction in 15 minutes.” After a statement like that, whatever the validity of Johnson’s story, it’s pretty clear that he must have exaggerated his tale somewhat. However, there are various