In
summer 1815, Europe was a continent with a problem. Emperor Napoleon of France had just been overthrown
for the second time, ending decades of chaos. But while peace had returned, an uneasy question
lingered: What to do with the defeated emperor? Since 1803, the Napoleonic Wars had killed
between 3.2 and 6.5 million people. Already exiled once, Napoleon had simply returned,
like some sort of 19th Century Ernest Blofeld. But with Europe’s Big Bad now captured,
the Allies had to decide: kill Napoleon and risk martyring him; or imprison him again,
and risk a second comeback? Their solution was elegant in its simplicity. Rather than put Napoleon in an ordinary jail,
they would construct a super-prison. One even the Petit Corporal couldn’t escape. The name of that prison? Longwood. A former summer residence on St Helena, Longwood
was remote, isolated, and surrounded by gun turrets, cliffs, and crashing waves. Converted into a jail by the British, it became
the only place on Earth capable of holding the emperor. But what made Longwood so special, and how
did Napoleon come to end his life there? Today, we’re investigating the final home
of the man who brought Europe to its knees. The First Alcatraz Out in the wilds of the Atlantic Ocean, over
2,000km from the nearest major landmass, sits an insignificant little speck. Seen from above, this speck looks like nothing
more than a mistake - an accidental twitch of a cartographer’s pen. Even up close, it retains that air of unbelievability. Unbelievable that anyone could live here. But make no mistake: this island of barren
mountains and sheer cliff-faces; this hostile lump of rock surrounded by swirling currents,
is inhabited all right. In this, the year of our Lord 1815, it counts
among its number 4,000 civilians, and 1,000 slaves. To that total, it’s about to add one defeated
emperor. Discovered in 1502 by the Portuguese, the
island of Saint Helena had briefly passed to the Dutch before being taken by the East
India Company. Although today associated with the British
Crown, the East India Company really was a company: a private corporation that conquered
islands and annexed swathes of India. They were also good at getting others to do
their dirty work. When they needed inhabitants for Saint Helena,
they settled it with Londoners who’d lost everything in the Great Fire. It was on this strange, remote island that
Longwood would come to be built. Although Longwood today is famous as Napoleon’s
prison, it wasn’t originally intended to house dictators. Constructed in 1743, it was first used as
a storage barn, before becoming a summer residence for Saint Helena’s lieutenant-governor. But while “summer residence” may sound
fancy, it was only fancy if your last abode was now charred London rubble. 8km from the island’s sole port, Longwood
was on a vast, desolate plain, battered by howling winds and infested with rats. Were anyone to be held captive there, they
would almost certainly be seen trying to flee. And even if they did make it to the island’s
edge, the sheer cliffs and churning water would make escape impossible. So, yeah, Longwood may not have been constructed
as a jail, per se, but it certainly had all the makings of one. Hence the letter St Helena’s governor received
in fall of 1815. At that time, getting to the island was so
difficult that news arrived years late, when it arrived at all. The last anyone there had heard, Napoleon
had just been defeated and exiled to Elba. So imagine their surprise when the letter-writer
told them that Napoleon had not only escaped Elba, restarted the French empire, and then
been defeated all over again… ...but that he was now on his way to Saint
Helena. The moment they heard the news, the islanders
must’ve suppressed an internal shudder. Somewhere out there, on the dark waves, a
tyrant was approaching; a man who’d once had the whole of Europe beaten and cowed at
his feet. What would happen when he finally arrived
in his new prison, no-one could say. Life of an Empire At this stage, you may be wondering how Napoleon
went from “emperor of the French” to “dude getting imprisoned in the middle of the Atlantic.” Well, if that thought has crossed your mind,
just know you’re watching the right channel! Napoleon had come to power in 1799 with the
Coup of 18 Brumaire - which isn’t the French way of saying “November,” but one of the
wacky months the French Revolutionaries invented for their new calendar. Not that there were many revolutionaries left
by the time of the Coup of 18 Sillyname. In 1795, the Directory had come to power and
replaced revolutionary fervor with dull authoritarianism. It was these amateur despots Napoleon had
overthrown, eventually making himself emperor in 1804. From that point on, Europe had become his
personal whipping boy. At its height, the Napoleonic Empire and its
client states had ruled over 70 million people. Even nominally-independent empires, like Austria,
had been forced to do Napoleon’s bidding. Because if you didn’t obey, then Boney was
only too happy to hand your ass to you on the battlefield. From 1799 to 1809, Europe’s states had assembled
their own Avengers teams - known as the Second, Third, Fourth, and Fifth Coalitions - only
to have French Thanos beat them every time. It got so bad that, by 1812, everyone was
pretty much certain that Napoleon had won. He had the entire continent locked into his
boycott of Great Britain, and nobody so much as sneezed without handing over a pile of
francs. And then the emperor had gone and made the
classic European dictator mistake. He’d invaded Russia. You probably already know what a total disaster
this became. Turns out, Russia is pretty damn cold. And when the Russians have burned all shelter
and destroyed all food in the places you’ve just conquered, that can become something
of a problem. As Napoleon retreated towards Paris, his men
died in droves. Russian irregulars harassed their lines, killing
even more. Although exact numbers are hard to come by,
it’s thought Napoleon took over 680,000 troops into the snow and ice of the east. When he returned west, only 27,000 remained. For the rest of Europe this was all like,
“party time!”. In the spring of 1813, the Sixth Coalition
formed. And they wouldn’t rest until Napoleon’s
empire was finished. The climactic battled had come in mid-October. Starting on the 16th, 370,000 Allied troops
faced off for three days against a rebuilt French army of 198,000 at the Battle of Leipzig. It was the biggest battle of the Napoleonic
Wars. An apocalyptic clash that shook Europe. When the dust settled, Napoleon had suffered
the greatest defeat of his career. Although Napoleon fought on for nearly six
more months, the writing was on the wall. By March, 1814, the Sixth Coalition was marching
on Paris. As the emperor fled the capital, its citizens
took one look at the incoming armies and declared “Hell with this.” In a special session, the government announced
that Napoleon had been deposed. When the news reached the emperor, he tried
to abdicate in favor of his son, Napoleon II, but everyone was like “yeeeeeeaaah…
no.” On April 6, 1814, Emperor Napoleon abdicated
unconditionally. Finally, the upheaval that had started with
the 1789 French Revolution was over. Now the victorious Allies just needed to figure
out what the heck to do with the former emperor. Into Exile For a guy who’d just killed several million
Europeans in a vicious war, Napoleon sure wasn’t treated like a pariah. The Treaty of Fontainebleau that set out the
terms for his defeat was less a punishment, and more an epic consolation prize. Although Napoleon was forced to surrender
his family’s claim on the French throne, he was allowed to keep the title of emperor,
and awarded an annual salary of 2 million francs. On top of that, the Allies just gifted him
Elba, basically saying “sorry about your lost empire. Here, have an entire island to make up for
it!” Today, we talk about Napoleon’s exile on
Elba like it was some sort of punishment. But, I mean, have you seen Elba? Covering over 200 km2, and home to 12,000
people, Elba in 1814 was warm, beautiful, and seriously relaxing. And Boney wasn’t a prisoner! Nope, he was Elba’s new ruler, with all
the rights of any monarch. Jeez, Napoleon tries to conquer the world
and it’s all “here, have a kingdom,” while I try to conquer the world and it’s
all “Simon, put down that sword and get off that horse!” It’s not like the Allies weren’t aware
of how ridiculous this was. But they were exhausted by fifteen years of
fighting France. They’d won the war in part by assuring the
French that they weren’t gonna exact vengeance. Part of that deal was to let the dictator
who’d started it all live out the rest of his life in peace. On May 3, 1814, Napoleon arrived on Elba. He brought with him the remnants of his court,
and 700 loyal guards. Although he publicly declared “I want to
live from now on like a justice of the peace,” in private he told his friends that the restored
Bourbon monarchy wouldn’t last 6 months. And so Elba adjusted to life under its new
ruler. As the European powers gathered to hammer
out a post-Napoleon future, Napoleon busied himself overhauling Elba; refining its education
system, building roads, draining its marshes. But if anyone expected the emperor to be content
on his island, they were doomed to disappointment. The problems started before the year was out. By late 1814, it was clear the restored Louis
XVIII had no intention of paying Napoleon his 2m francs a year. On top of that, the great powers were openly
discussing sending the Petit Corporal further away, putting more distance between him and
Europe. Realizing his time on Elba was running short,
Napoleon decided to act first. On March 1, 1815, landed a ship in France
and began marching toward Paris, gathering an army as he went. It was the start of the Hundred Days, a time
when the French Empire rose from its ashes to fight again. But, as the name suggests, it didn’t fight
very long. Within five days of Napoleon’s return, Austria,
Britain, Prussia, and Russia had formed the Seventh Coalition. When Napoleon finally met them in battle on
June 18, it wasn’t as a great returning general, but as a disappointing tribute act
- a performer who doesn’t know when to leave the stage. The Battle of Waterloo ended with Napoleon’s
final defeat. Although the emperor fled the battlefield,
hoping to catch a boat to America, the jig was up. On July 15, Napoleon surrendered to the British
- likely to avoid capture and execution by the Prussians. Still unwilling to martyr the emperor, the
Brits were left with no choice but to exile him all over again. But this time, it wouldn’t be to some comfy,
sundrenched island a mere 10km from the European mainland. No, this time, the Petit Corporal was gonna
find himself sent to the most secure prison the world had ever seen. The Remotest Island Until the airport opened in 2017, the only
way to get to Saint Helena from Europe involved flying to South Africa, then jumping on a
ferry and sailing for five days. So you can imagine how long the journey took
over 200 years ago. Napoleon left Plymouth for his second exile
on August 8, 1815. He didn’t set eyes on Saint Helena until
October 14. After seeing the rock he was doomed to spend
the rest of his life on, Napoleon is said to have muttered: “It seems no charming place to live in. I should have done better to stay in Egypt
(a reference to his 1798 campaign). I should now have been Emperor of the whole
Orient.” The boat landed the next day, although Napoleon
refused to disembark until the 17th, and then only under cover of darkness. As the 5,000 inhabitants of Saint Helena watched
in solemn silence, the man who’d once made Europe tremble departed the boat and began
his new life as a British prisoner. However, his sentence didn’t start at Longwood. Because news of Napoleon’s arrival had only
reached the island days ahead of Napoleon himself, there had been almost no time for
preparations. So Napoleon had to spend the first two months
at cozy Briar’s Pavilion. The house was owned by the Balcombe family,
and while they were so stoutly British they probably bled tea, they were also extremely
gracious hosts. In fact, their 13-year old daughter Betsy
managed to befriend the emperor, playing Blind Man’s Buff with him and teasing him for
his inability to sing. It’s said the Petit Corporal later regarded
his short stay with the Balcombes as the high point of his second exile. Shortly after getting settled in at Briar’s,
Napoleon was taken to inspect Longwood. Although his reaction was one of intense disappointment,
don’t kid yourself into thinking that it was anything like a regular prison. Longwood had a private lounge. A decorated bedroom. Antique furniture. A study where Napoleon could write his memoirs. It was so cushy it would’ve made even a
Norwegian jail look like a Texan prison. Yet, for a man who’d once lived in France’s
finest palaces, it looked like nothing but an insult. Work continued on Longwood until December,
while Napoleon cooled his heels with the Balcombes. Finally, shortly before Christmas, 1815, the
emperor moved into his final prison. Once there, the British made every effort
to keep him happy. Napoleon was allowed to run Longwood like
a private court. At dinner each day, he made the male guests
wear military uniforms, and the female guests come wearing gems. During the daytime, he worked alternately
on his memoirs, and on a vast plan to turn the desolate plain around the house into a
sculpted garden. The British even gave him run of the island. Napoleon was allowed to go to any point on
Saint Helena - even riding a horse - so long as he took a British valet with him. All in all, then, Napoleon’s first months
at Longwood were far from miserable. While he might chafe under the rules, he was
still living a more comfortable life than nearly any other prisoner in existence. But Napoleon’s comfort wasn’t destined
to last. Already, the British had dispatched a new
man to act as the emperor’s jailer. And Governor Hudson Lowe was gonna make it
his mission to make Napoleon as uncomfortable as possible. Decline and Fall In Napoleon literature, Hudson Lowe has a
pretty dismal reputation, often seen as less a governor and more a petty tyrant. For an actual tyrant like Napoleon, Lowe’s
reign must've been infuriating. The interactions between the two were frosty
from the get-go. When Governor Lowe arrived in April, 1816,
he refused to call Napoleon “emperor,” instead referring to him as “general.” We know. What a bastard. But Lowe did more than just insult the emperor’s
dignity. During his tenure, Lowe ended Napoleon’s
freedom of movement. He forced the emperor to present himself in
the flesh each day to prove he hadn’t escaped. Lowe also banished the Balcombe family from
the island, sending Betsy back to England for getting too friendly with the emperor. For the already-gloomy Napoleon, this was
a crushing blow. Deprived of possibly the one person within
2,000km who actually liked him, Napoleon retreated from life, shutting himself up inside Longwood
and refusing to go out. He had peepholes cut in the wooden shutters
so he could spy on the outside world, and settled into a kind of listless slump - like
a teenager having an extended sulk. Locked away in his comfy prison, the one-time
ruler of Europe lost his extraordinary edge. Became just another man; almost boring in
his simplicity. The routine that eventually came to characterize
Longwood began with Napoleon rising late and breakfasting at 10. After that, he sometimes practiced his English,
sometimes worked on his memoirs; sometimes even spread campaign maps out on his desk,
and relived his glory days pushing little toy soldiers around. Then it was dinner at 7, followed by reading,
then a game of cards, and then bed at midnight. The only time this routine was disturbed was
when Boney went to work on his garden, a pastime that included digging secret, sunken pathways
so he could move about without the British seeing him. Not for any practical purpose, you understand. Just so he could feel like he was still winning
at something. By now, it was becoming clear just how hellish
Longwood really could be. The rat infestation was out of control, with
vermin crawling over every surface. One evening at dinner, Napoleon picked up
his hat to put it on, only to have a rat leap out scuttle down his coat. After that, a good half hour’s rat catching
was added to the daily evening schedule. The weather, too, was becoming a trial, with
water seeping through the roof, leaving everything damp and miserable. Mould claimed clothing. Termites chewed the walls. On bad days, mist swirled around outside,
infused with a cold which seemed to seep inside your bones and poison you from the inside. Speaking of poison, almost everything in Longwood
was doused in arsenic. Not as part of a clever British assassination
plot, but because that’s just what stuff was made of in the 19th Century. Trapped inside his damp, poisonous jail, the
general who’d once taken everything Europe could throw at him stopped exercising. Slowly, got fat and listless. But if you’re tempted to think of Napoleon
as a tragic figure, and Hudson Lowe as a bad guy, don’t be. Although he’s often cast as the villain
in these pieces, Governor Lowe was a remarkable man. In 1818, for example, he unilaterally freed
every child slave on Saint Helena - 15 years before the British parliament outlawed slavery
in the colonies. Napoleon, on the other hand? In his early days as ruler of France, he’d
fought a war with the former colony of Haiti to put all its freed slaves back in chains. He may have been a Great Man of history, but
up close Napoleon was less great than he was just another despot. A Forgotten Piece of France The last years of Napoleon’s life were taken
up with absurd escape plots. There’s a good chance these plots were never
serious, and only spread by Napoleon as a way to make Governor Lowe freak-out. That would certainly explain their general
wackiness, such as smuggling Napoleon back to France on a homemade submarine. But even if they were serious, Napoleon would
never have got very far. Saint Helena was surrounded by a cordon of
British gunships, all waiting for an escape attempt. The Navy had even garrisoned the “neighboring”
island of Tristan da Cunha 2,400km away - just in case Napoleon might attempt to make use
of it. No matter how hard he tried, the emperor was
gonna be stuck in this jail until the very end. When that end finally came, it was drawn out
and miserable. Napoleon had been ill since 1817, and had
repeatedly accused Governor Lowe of poisoning him. In reality, though, he’d developed both
a stomach ulcer, and likely gastric cancer. All through his harsh winters and lonely summers
on Saint Helena, the diseases ate away at his insides, leaving only a rotten shell. Napoleon began to complain of pain. Of night sweats that left him drenched. Of blurred vision and headaches. As 1821 dawned the illness became so bad that
Napoleon wrote into his will that: “My death is premature. I have been assassinated by the English oligopoly
and their hired murderer.” That first sentence was at least right. On May 4, 1821, Napoleon lost consciousness
at Longwood for the final time. Although he never woke up, he did manage to
slur out a few last words. “My God…” he said, “the French nation…my
son…head of the army.” Napoleon Bonaparte died in his luxurious,
depressing prison on May 5, aged only 51. Shortly after, Governor Lowe had him buried
in a grave 3 meters deep and lined with bricks. Even in death, it seems the British didn’t
want to give the Petit Corporal an easy escape. In the wake of its prisoner’s death, Longwood
was sold to a farmer, who converted it into a barn. Within years a handful of years, Napoleon’s
former bedroom was home to a flock of sheep, while chickens clucked and left droppings
all over his one-time study. After holding history’s most-notorious prisoner
for over half a decade, it seemed Longwood was already doomed to be forgotten. Luckily, though, fate intervened. In 1848, a revolution in Paris deposed the
French monarchy for the final time. That very same year, the nation’s first
free elections returned an outsider populist with famous family connections as president. His name was Louis-Napoleon Bonaparte. But you likely know him as Napoleon III, nephew
of Napoleon himself. Like his uncle before him, Napoleon III quickly
launched a coup and had himself made emperor. Then, once his position was secure, he set
about protecting his uncle’s legacy. In 1854, the British were contacted by French
representatives who wanted to buy Longwood - then little more than a collapsed shack. Since this was in the middle of the Crimean
War and France and Britain were fighting as allies, London said yes. Four years later, the British handed over
both Longwood and Napoleon’s former grave to France for the sum of £7,100. Although Napoleon III would himself be deposed
in 1870, the new French Republic never thought about washing its hands of Longwood. The building remains a French possession even
now. Looking at Longwood from the outside today,
you’d never think that it had once been a prison. That it had once held the world’s most dangerous
man. Yet, in the end, Longwood House achieved its
goal. Napoleon never escaped its brightly decorated
walls. Never again set foot on European soil. Although it was a mere footnote at the end
of a great life, the tale of Longwood deserves to be more widely known. Here the man who helped forge the modern world
ended his life in bitterness and luxury, as alone and as isolated as a character from
Shakespeare. If that isn’t an ending that deserves to
be remembered, then what is?
