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Recollections Of The Emperor Napoleon, During The First Three Years Of His Captivity On The Island Of St. Helena
“Young Elizabeth Balcombe, or Betsy to friends and family, found life on the remote island of St Helena intolerably dull. Most fourteen-year-olds would. Her father had been posted to that unforgiving station in the Atlantic and, being a family man, he took his family with him. Life was bleak in Balcombe's bungalow on the fringe of James Town. But then, in October 1815, the situation was transformed by the arrival of an unusual visitor. Napoleon Bonaparte, one-time master of Europe, now prisoner and exile, stepped ashore. The Balcombes, like all the islanders, were amazed. And even more so when Napoleon, taking a fancy to their bungalow (the Briars) moved in with them. Betsy, overcoming her surprise at sharing her home with an emperor, delighted in his company and the two became firm friends. Miss Betsy Balcombe made the most of her time with the world's most famous prisoner, keenly observing all around her, noting down conversations, recording moods. The result is a unique set of memoirs which records in astonishing detail an almost unbelievable story. That of how a precocious teenager and an emperor talked, argued, played, confided and teased their way through grim years of exile on the barren rock of St Helena.”-Print ed.
- GenresBiographyNonfiction
192 pages, Kindle Edition
First published October 1, 2008
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About the author
Betsy Balcombe
4 books1 followerLucia Elizabeth ″Betsy″ Balcombe Abell (1802 / 29 June 1871) was a friend of Napoleon I during his exile at Saint Helena.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Betsy_B...
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Betsy_B...
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Displaying 1 - 7 of 7 reviews
November 22, 2015
Betsy Balcombe wrote this memoir of her time on St. Helena island during the the beginning of Napoleon's exile on the island. Napoleon lived with her family at the Briars until his home in Longwood was prepared for him. The year was 1815. Betsy was thirteen years old when the events of the memoir took place, and although she was initially terrified at the thought of the Napoleon living among them, she soon overcame her fears, and found him to be quite companionable.
This book is a good description of Napoleon as a human being as well as a fascinating description of St. Helena
This book is a good description of Napoleon as a human being as well as a fascinating description of St. Helena
November 4, 2025
4,5 ster. Omdat het af en toe iets teveel abrupt heen en weer springt in de gebeurtenissen en het niet helemaal chronologisch is.
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January 1, 2022If you were offered a chance to meet Napoleon, would you take it?
Unfortunately, the constraints of time has made that choice theoretical. But this book is the next best thing.
It boggles my mind how this is not a more popular book—and how the editor sloppily has left typos, misspellings, etc. This book is truly a hidden gem. One I never would have known even existed unless I read Robert's sweeping biography on Napoleon.
The book jacket says it perfectly. "The fascinating tale of a fallen Emperor, who became the best friend of a thirteen-year-old English girl." That girl is Betsy and she writes about the time Napoleon lived with (and later, nearby) her family. This book is true—and while some stories are sure to be embellished by her memory—it is a factual account.
While Betsy and her family were no "Joe Schmos" (her father was Superintendent of Public Sales for the East India Company), in relation to Napoleon, they were effectively nobodies.
The friendship that blossoms between Napoleon and Betsy is equal parts charming, amusing, and absolutely absorbing, as we learn small tidbits about the man whose humanity has been polished away by the sands of time as he takes his place in the shrine of "historical figures."
Betsy is a bit of a rascal—and she meets her match in the Emperor, who comes-off more as a curious, full-of-life prankster of a boy—than as the person who once held power over much of Europe.
You know, the usual stuff. She pours hot wax on Napoleon's hands. Napoleon steals and hides her ball gown before her very first ball—only to hand deliver it right as she is ready to hop into the carriage. He cheats at cards. She sets off a chain-reaction of falls to nearly knock him down a steep decline.
You can almost imagine Napoleon shouting, "But MOM, SHE started it!"
But it's not all just fun and games.
We watch as Napoleon discusses religion and politics, even when his views can appear—at times—internally complex. For example, while Napoleon professed an unquestioning belief in God, he also viewed religion as the pastime of old ladies. And yet he was known to "honor and respect" all religions, and was a bit of a religious chameleon to boot—including practicing Islam while in Egypt. But despite being a chameleon, he felt the need to import an Italian (presumably Catholic) clergy to St. Helena to be with him.
Yet from Napoleon's religious views, we briefly get a sneak peak into the mind of the legend.
"I believe that whatever a man's destiny calls upon him to do, that, he must fulfill."
This, from the man who once ruled Europe—one of the great conquerors of history. A mythical figure, who was said to almost perfectly estimate the number of bricks in the Egyptian pyramids from first glance. Is this how he ameliorated—with what seemed to be exceedingly good spirits—his fallen station in life at St. Helena? Did he feel he had accomplished his mission in life and was now playing on borrowed time?
Betsy seems to think so, as she waxes poetic in Chapter XVI (one of her more philosophical chapters). As Napoleon gazes upon the Conqueror (a ship off St. Helena meant to keep Napoleon in his proverbial prison) Betsy hypothesizes that perhaps he feels parallels with the ship, that as he gazes upon it, he sees his own "fortunes, so lordly, yet mastered, and impelled by some unseen resistless power towards that wild shore [St. Helena] destined to be the tomb of all his daring hopes and mad ambition."
But if that were the case, what explains his infatuation with reenacting—via pins and maps—the battles he lost, searching for that path of victory that must have escaped his faculties, at the time in the past when it actually mattered.
Is he searching to confirm that his losses were predestined—that there was no path to victory? Is he searching to prove to himself that he could have won—that if only he got a "do-over" his fate would not have sent him to St. Helena?
We'll never know. There is no answer. But there's sometimes more beauty in those questions than there would ever be in the answers.
Betsy says it best when she writes that the magic of St. Helena is "the past and the future are alike disregarded."
And while Napoleon seems to at times hold small illusions (perhaps delusions) for the future of getting off the island; and he recounts his times of glory in the past, it's hard to not feel that the magic of St. Helena had some potency on the Emperor. That he found a certain peace in embracing his life on the island—divorced from (most) of his former trappings—lost in games of whist, island gossip, childrens' pranks, and small gestures of kindness—like when he made sure that Betsy had fresh roses for her ballgown.
And the reader as well succumbs to that magic—forgetting for a moment the weighty Napoleon from history books—and embracing "Bony," as he sneaks into the garden—via the key left for him by the slave he sought to buy the freedom of—all to eat some fresh fruit and work on his memoirs (and perhaps even take a nap).
One of the saddest moments of the book is when we are brought forward, to an older Betsy—contemporary to the time she penned her memoirs.
She writes, "My life has been a chequered and melancholy one, and many of its incidents have been of a nature to absorb the mind and abstract the attention from everything but the consideration of present misery"
One imagines that Betsy—in penning the memoir—might have been in search of the same magic that Napoleon seems to have, at times, found on the island. A magic, that seems to have provided both of them, at different times in their lives, an ephemeral escape from their "present misery."
+++++++++++++
One of the joys I find in reading books on "great" historical figures, is trying to figure out what makes them so special. How are they different from the rest of us.
For Chernow's Washington, that seemed to be in his adherence to continual personal improvement, and his foppish desire to compose himself—both in his dress and in his demeanor—as a man of greatness.
For Chernow's Grant, it felt like he stumbled—perhaps a little tipsy—onto the stage of history, in a role that he had—unbeknownst to himself—been rehearsing for all his life. If one believes, perhaps like Napoleon, in predestination, one might say Grant was predestined to appear at just that precise moment to save the Union. He seemed to never succeed at any moment before the Civil War, or after.
For Napoleon, his military genius clearly played a role—and we don't see that in this work. But it wasn't his military genius alone that allowed him to pull off the coup that would make him emperor of France. That was a political fight, winning allies—not battles.
If Betsy is to be trusted, those attributes would seem to be his affability and his smile.
It's interesting how often Betsy remarks on his smile being disarming; in fact, right when she's feeling nervous to approach the Emperor, he smiles—and it's immediately disarming. And while Napoleon did plenty of behind-the-back gossiping with Betsy, he always engaged his interlocutors on the subjects that interested them most. It's as if he read "How to Win Friends and Influence People" a century before its publication.
Unfortunately, the constraints of time has made that choice theoretical. But this book is the next best thing.
It boggles my mind how this is not a more popular book—and how the editor sloppily has left typos, misspellings, etc. This book is truly a hidden gem. One I never would have known even existed unless I read Robert's sweeping biography on Napoleon.
The book jacket says it perfectly. "The fascinating tale of a fallen Emperor, who became the best friend of a thirteen-year-old English girl." That girl is Betsy and she writes about the time Napoleon lived with (and later, nearby) her family. This book is true—and while some stories are sure to be embellished by her memory—it is a factual account.
While Betsy and her family were no "Joe Schmos" (her father was Superintendent of Public Sales for the East India Company), in relation to Napoleon, they were effectively nobodies.
The friendship that blossoms between Napoleon and Betsy is equal parts charming, amusing, and absolutely absorbing, as we learn small tidbits about the man whose humanity has been polished away by the sands of time as he takes his place in the shrine of "historical figures."
Betsy is a bit of a rascal—and she meets her match in the Emperor, who comes-off more as a curious, full-of-life prankster of a boy—than as the person who once held power over much of Europe.
You know, the usual stuff. She pours hot wax on Napoleon's hands. Napoleon steals and hides her ball gown before her very first ball—only to hand deliver it right as she is ready to hop into the carriage. He cheats at cards. She sets off a chain-reaction of falls to nearly knock him down a steep decline.
You can almost imagine Napoleon shouting, "But MOM, SHE started it!"
But it's not all just fun and games.
We watch as Napoleon discusses religion and politics, even when his views can appear—at times—internally complex. For example, while Napoleon professed an unquestioning belief in God, he also viewed religion as the pastime of old ladies. And yet he was known to "honor and respect" all religions, and was a bit of a religious chameleon to boot—including practicing Islam while in Egypt. But despite being a chameleon, he felt the need to import an Italian (presumably Catholic) clergy to St. Helena to be with him.
Yet from Napoleon's religious views, we briefly get a sneak peak into the mind of the legend.
"I believe that whatever a man's destiny calls upon him to do, that, he must fulfill."
This, from the man who once ruled Europe—one of the great conquerors of history. A mythical figure, who was said to almost perfectly estimate the number of bricks in the Egyptian pyramids from first glance. Is this how he ameliorated—with what seemed to be exceedingly good spirits—his fallen station in life at St. Helena? Did he feel he had accomplished his mission in life and was now playing on borrowed time?
Betsy seems to think so, as she waxes poetic in Chapter XVI (one of her more philosophical chapters). As Napoleon gazes upon the Conqueror (a ship off St. Helena meant to keep Napoleon in his proverbial prison) Betsy hypothesizes that perhaps he feels parallels with the ship, that as he gazes upon it, he sees his own "fortunes, so lordly, yet mastered, and impelled by some unseen resistless power towards that wild shore [St. Helena] destined to be the tomb of all his daring hopes and mad ambition."
But if that were the case, what explains his infatuation with reenacting—via pins and maps—the battles he lost, searching for that path of victory that must have escaped his faculties, at the time in the past when it actually mattered.
Is he searching to confirm that his losses were predestined—that there was no path to victory? Is he searching to prove to himself that he could have won—that if only he got a "do-over" his fate would not have sent him to St. Helena?
We'll never know. There is no answer. But there's sometimes more beauty in those questions than there would ever be in the answers.
Betsy says it best when she writes that the magic of St. Helena is "the past and the future are alike disregarded."
And while Napoleon seems to at times hold small illusions (perhaps delusions) for the future of getting off the island; and he recounts his times of glory in the past, it's hard to not feel that the magic of St. Helena had some potency on the Emperor. That he found a certain peace in embracing his life on the island—divorced from (most) of his former trappings—lost in games of whist, island gossip, childrens' pranks, and small gestures of kindness—like when he made sure that Betsy had fresh roses for her ballgown.
And the reader as well succumbs to that magic—forgetting for a moment the weighty Napoleon from history books—and embracing "Bony," as he sneaks into the garden—via the key left for him by the slave he sought to buy the freedom of—all to eat some fresh fruit and work on his memoirs (and perhaps even take a nap).
One of the saddest moments of the book is when we are brought forward, to an older Betsy—contemporary to the time she penned her memoirs.
She writes, "My life has been a chequered and melancholy one, and many of its incidents have been of a nature to absorb the mind and abstract the attention from everything but the consideration of present misery"
One imagines that Betsy—in penning the memoir—might have been in search of the same magic that Napoleon seems to have, at times, found on the island. A magic, that seems to have provided both of them, at different times in their lives, an ephemeral escape from their "present misery."
+++++++++++++
One of the joys I find in reading books on "great" historical figures, is trying to figure out what makes them so special. How are they different from the rest of us.
For Chernow's Washington, that seemed to be in his adherence to continual personal improvement, and his foppish desire to compose himself—both in his dress and in his demeanor—as a man of greatness.
For Chernow's Grant, it felt like he stumbled—perhaps a little tipsy—onto the stage of history, in a role that he had—unbeknownst to himself—been rehearsing for all his life. If one believes, perhaps like Napoleon, in predestination, one might say Grant was predestined to appear at just that precise moment to save the Union. He seemed to never succeed at any moment before the Civil War, or after.
For Napoleon, his military genius clearly played a role—and we don't see that in this work. But it wasn't his military genius alone that allowed him to pull off the coup that would make him emperor of France. That was a political fight, winning allies—not battles.
If Betsy is to be trusted, those attributes would seem to be his affability and his smile.
It's interesting how often Betsy remarks on his smile being disarming; in fact, right when she's feeling nervous to approach the Emperor, he smiles—and it's immediately disarming. And while Napoleon did plenty of behind-the-back gossiping with Betsy, he always engaged his interlocutors on the subjects that interested them most. It's as if he read "How to Win Friends and Influence People" a century before its publication.
September 6, 2019
As a literary work, this would be a 2/5. This isn't Chateaubriand, but that's not what we're here for anyway. It reads easily and that's enough. If you are interested in the personality of the emperor, Napoléon the dying man befriending a little girl while missing his own child several thousand miles away from him, then you will enjoy this book. It is often funny and moving when it isn't.
November 30, 2021
This is just the same book as the other Betsy one I did a review on. Why did I buy three copies of the same text? Why did I think they would be different?
July 10, 2016
Betsy Balcombe is not the best writer. For those who are not familiar with the times, culture and French language this memoir could be quite all over the place.
She writes about events that she can recall from memory. Not everything has to do with the emperor directly and sometimes it is unclear what she is getting at. She doesn't properly introduce some of the recurring characters (maybe mistakenly assuming that those names will be familiar with the reader). Every chapter could very well stand on its own, since she doesn't build up to anything or even keeps a chronological order.
However, I loved reading an account of Napoleons character when he was in exile on St Helena and had pretty much no hope of ever returning to follow his ambitions. It is a unique book full of information on who Napoleon was apart from his politics and strategies.
She writes about events that she can recall from memory. Not everything has to do with the emperor directly and sometimes it is unclear what she is getting at. She doesn't properly introduce some of the recurring characters (maybe mistakenly assuming that those names will be familiar with the reader). Every chapter could very well stand on its own, since she doesn't build up to anything or even keeps a chronological order.
However, I loved reading an account of Napoleons character when he was in exile on St Helena and had pretty much no hope of ever returning to follow his ambitions. It is a unique book full of information on who Napoleon was apart from his politics and strategies.
August 30, 2016
Fascinating Personal Account
I picked up this book after reading Keneally's wonderful fictionalised account of Betsy Balcombe in "Napoleon's Last Island". I wanted a first-hand account of the real life Betsy and was delighted to find this book from her own hand. It provides a very personal account of Napoleon and shows him to have been a remarkable man and far more human than history has often depicted him.
I picked up this book after reading Keneally's wonderful fictionalised account of Betsy Balcombe in "Napoleon's Last Island". I wanted a first-hand account of the real life Betsy and was delighted to find this book from her own hand. It provides a very personal account of Napoleon and shows him to have been a remarkable man and far more human than history has often depicted him.
Displaying 1 - 7 of 7 reviews