Officially he was empowered to insist they all stay on board until a suitable house was ready. The choice of that house had still to be made.

During Balcombe’s meeting with the admiral he was handed a sealed letter from the London mail brought by the flagship. It bore the House of Lords insignia and was from his patron, Sir Thomas Tyrwhitt, Gentleman Usher of the Black Rod in the House of Lords. This ceremonial position, established during the reign of Henry VIII, was by decree given to ‘a gentleman famous in arms and blood’. He controlled entry of ‘Strangers’ to the House, made staff appointments and carried an ebony rod surmounted by a golden lion for all state occasions; he could arrest any lord guilty of breach of privilege or of disturbing the House’s proceedings. During the opening of Parliament, ‘Black Rod’ carried the King’s command to the House of Commons to attend him in the House of Lords.

But another factor altogether meant that Sir Thomas Tyrwhitt was close to the very centre of power in Britain. He had been an intimate friend and trusted confidant of George Augustus, the Prince Regent, for 26 years, ever since they met at Oxford and discovered they shared the same sense of humour and even the same birthday—12 August 1762. The then Prince of Wales invited his new friend to occupy an apartment at Carlton House, his sumptuous London mansion, and made him his unofficial secretary, confirmed a few years later. Tyrwhitt, a diminutive, bustling, rosy-cheeked man, rapidly became a favourite of both King George III and Queen Charlotte and of the royal princes and princesses, who described him with patronising affection as ‘the Saint’ or ‘our little red dwarf ’.1 Nonetheless, he commanded great respect and for several years acted ‘as sole mediator between the King and the prince during the time they spent apart in mutual dislike and disagreement’.2 While the King was often impatient with his spendthrift son, he always had time for his ‘old friend Tom Tyrwhitt’.3

In the nineteenth century, ‘interest’, the influence of a powerful person, was essential to advance in the professions. Horace Walpole pronounced that ‘Merit is useless: it is interest alone that can push a man forward. By dint of interest one of my coach-horses might become poet laureate, and the other, physician to the Royal household.’4 ‘Interest’ was virtually indispensable, and William Balcombe, said to be merely the son of a fisherman from the Sussex village of Rottingdean, obviously had access to it from a very high level. Those on St Helena who knew of the connection with Sir Thomas—and Balcombe had little hesitation in mentioning it—wondered how and why this influential man showed such concern for his young protégé:

5th August 1815

Dear Balcombe,

Napoleon is about to proceed to your island so quickly that there seems some doubt whether this dispatch will reach Plymouth in time to catch the Northumberland. Since yesterday Beatson has forwarded me a very strong letter indeed, recommending you to Sir George Cockburn as Naval Agent. This letter goes in this cover to him and I sincerely hope it will answer the purpose intended . . .

Sir George promptly approved the appointment, which would have gratified Balcombe, for, with the island now placed under government administration, his merchant’s business was going to become severely restricted. The new position involved much the same service, supplying vessels, but the difference was that they would be exclusively of the British navy or East India Company, with few chances for private trade. But Sir Thomas had a further suggestion, a potentially lucrative one concerning the prisoner’s possible accommodation: ‘It appears that Ministers will not pledge themselves to purchase any particular spot, but that all is to be left to the choice of two commanders, as to what place is best adapted to confine Napoleon comfortably but severely. Beatson thinks that when this inspection has taken place, they will fix upon The Briars.’5

Major-General Alexander Beatson had been St Helena’s energetic governor from 1808 to 1813. After his recall he was promoted, in recognition of his efficient administration of the island and especially for his suppression of a mutiny by soldiers at the garrison in 1811. He executed the ringleaders. In Beatson’s despatch to the East India Company’s Court of Directors concerning that episode, he had praised the assistance of William Balcombe among a handful of loyal residents. The merchant had returned the compliment by naming his youngest son, born in that year, Alexander Beatson Balcombe, which, according to convention, meant that the governor became godfather to the boy. Soon afterwards, Balcombe was granted a lucrative licence to operate a brewery supplying beer to the island garrison.6

Even though he and his family were greatly attached to their home, Balcombe had no objection to Sir Thomas’s idea of renting it out, for there could be handsome compensation in making it available to the French, so that it would be well worth him leasing elsewhere.

Meanwhile, red-coated soldiers of the 53rd Regiment had come ashore from the transports and now patrolled the town. Every promontory was suddenly out of bounds, manned by armed sentries in sight of each other and able to communicate by a complex set of signals. Cannon were placed on ledges and in apertures in cliffs. Posters went up around the island, plastered on buildings and on rocks, formally announcing the detention of ‘General N. Buonaparte’ and serving notice that: ‘This is to warn all inhabitants and other persons on this island from aiding and abetting hereafter in any way whatsoever the escape of the said General and that of any of the French persons with him, and to interdict most pointedly the holding of any communication or correspondence with them. Any person presuming to act in violation of this ordinance will be immediately sent off the island to be further punished as the circumstances appear to deserve.’7

Napoleon did not come ashore until the evening of 17 October and he refused to meet with the official party at the landing stage. There was time enough to encounter the governor of this savage little island.