There’s an intriguing bit of local folklore that still surfaces today.
It’s the story that Napoleon fathered a Torbay baby.
First, the facts.
After Napoleon came second in the Battle of Waterloo in 1815, the Royal Navy thwarted his planned escape to the United States. He then surrendered to the British after running out of other options.
We exiled him to the remote island of Saint Helena, where he died in 1821 at the age of 51.
On the way to the South Atlantic, he was held on the warship HMS Bellerophon, nicknamed Billy Ruffian. The ship anchored in Torbay for two days. Upon his first sight of the Bay, the former Emperor has been quoted as exclaiming, “Quel bon pays!”; “What a lovely country!”
Above: “Well, that could have gone better”. Napoleon in captivity on board the Bellerophon
Napoleon was, of course, seen as the most dangerous man in the world and kept under close guard. Nevertheless, despite efforts at secrecy, many people heard of his presence and chartered boats to gaze at the ex-emperor as he stood on the ship’s deck.
There is an old story, however, that the ‘Corsican Fiend’ briefly came on shore. Local folklore relates how he fathered a baby during his short visit while visiting Brixham, Goodrington, or Torquay.
It’s generally accepted, however, that Napoleon Bonaparte never set foot on land in Torbay. Indeed, there are a range of good arguments for not believing the old legend.
He was closely guarded as he had escaped before, and many thousands had died in his recapture. No chances would be taken this time; the reason why he was being sent thousands of miles away. There were also fears that French loyalists and even English radical Jacobins would attempt to free him.
No one, naval officers, seamen, or local folk, seems to have noticed the most famous man in the world taking the night off and coming ashore.
The guards didn’t write in their letters or memoirs that the story was true. Even if they had all been sworn to secrecy, surely someone present would have confided in a loved one or made a deathbed announcement?
Anyone who knows Torbay taxi drivers today will be aware that they don’t always keep to their sworn oath of confidentiality or discretion. Wouldn’t someone have said, “You won’t believe who I had in the back of my rowing boat the other night?”.
Since 1815, hundreds of books have been written about Boney, including some by those that knew him. None mention him coming ashore.
Napoleon himself didn’t seem to have thought it worth mentioning the incident. You would think he might have done so since one of his lifelong ambitions was to conquer England. In 1803 he wrote, “All my thoughts are directed towards England. I want only for a favourable wind to plant the Imperial Eagle on the Tower of London.”
Though he didn’t have much of a sense of humour, he could have made an off-the-cuff comment along the lines of, “I did actually call in once, and you wouldn’t believe what I got up to in Goodrington”.
He wasn’t presumably protecting the honour of a Brixham lady either. Napoleon was no proto-feminist. He once stated, “Women are nothing but machines for producing children,” and was quite proud of his technique: “A woman laughing is a woman conquered.”
It’s further worth noting that stories of Napoleon visiting England crop up in other parts of the country. In point of fact, it seems as if any Frenchman, or anyone wearing unusual clothing, could be taken as the emperor himself.
In a semi-literate society, many people just didn’t know what Napoleon looked like, and there are apocryphal tales that the French themselves were seen by some as almost another species.
The most familiar of these, possibly fanciful, stories is that of the Hartlepool monkey.
When a French ship was wrecked off the northeast coast, the only survivor was a monkey wearing a French uniform to provide amusement for the crew. The locals held an impromptu trial on the beach, and since they had seen neither a monkey nor a Frenchman before, they concluded that the monkey was a spy, and they hanged the unfortunate ship’s mascot.
Anyway, back to the Bay. Any visiting foreigner that fathered a child could then have entered local folklore as Napoleon.
In one way it’s a shame that he didn’t call in. It would have been the only time the Emperor set foot in Britain. The Victorians would have seized on the connection, and we would surely have had a statue on Torquay Harbourside.
As the Bay was also home to Nelson’s Channel Fleet, we could have had an internationally famous Napoleonic Wars Museum too. How about Napoleon’s Oldway or the Emperor’s Pavilion?
There is another possible cause for the legend.
Though Napoleon Bonaparte didn’t visit Torquay, another exiled French emperor called Napoleon did.
This was Louis-Napoleon III, who stayed at the Imperial Hotel in 1871.
In the war against Prussia, which he foolishly initiated, Louis-Napoleon’s forces were routed at the Battle of Sedan in 1870. He was then deposed, and the Second Empire came to an end. His wife and son fled to England.
Above: The deposed Louis-Napoleon III stayed at Torquay’s Imperial Hotel in 1871
Louis-Napoleon had a reputation with the ladies, having a number of affairs and fathering at least two illegitimate sons; much of his social secretary’s time was apparently spent dealing with his sexual adventures.
Could he have left a bundle of Torbay joy behind when his vacation ended?
What we do know is that Victorian Torquay’s tourist guides imported, embellished, and just plain made up stories to impress their wealthy clients. There was a bidding race amongst cab drivers to entertain and so make more in tips.
So, was there a local rumour that Napoleon III, carrying his reputation for promiscuity with him, had fathered a local baby?
And did the Bay’s opportunistic and inventive tourist industry just get their Napoleons mixed up?
We’ll never know.
On the other hand, the original story may be true, and ‘Le Petit Caporel’ could have left his biological mark on the Bay.
Accordingly, if you or anyone else you know is 5 feet 7 inches tall and looks a bit like the chap in the illustration, it may be worth having a DNA test.
