He had been enticed from his native place many years before, brought to St. Helena by the English, smuggled on shore and illegally sold as a slave, let out to whoever would hire him, and his earnings chiefly appropriated to his master. Napoleon perhaps recognized in Toby a kindred spirit, or at least felt a common bond in the fact that both had been brought unwillingly to the island. Certainly he liked him, and, when he had heard his story, wished to buy and free him. But for political reasons, when Mr. Balcombe made Napoleon's wishes known to Sir Hudson Lowe, he could not get his consent.
Toby, however, was grateful to Napoleon for his wish to help him, and continued his devoted admirer. On going from The Briars, Napoleon presented Toby with twenty-nine napoleons and always inquired for his health. When Napoleon left The Briars, Toby often arranged bouquets and fruits to go to Longwood,—"to that good man, Bony."
Toby, from all accounts, was an attractive fellow. His countenance had a frank and benevolent expression. His eyes were animated and sparkling, his aspect not abject, but prepossessing. So at least he appeared to Betsy, and one day she was interested to hear Napoleon reflecting upon him:
"What, after all, is a poor prisoner but a machine? As for poor Toby, he endures his misfortunes very quietly; he stoops to his work, and spends his days in innocent tranquillity. This man, after all, had his family and his happiness and his liberty, and it was a horrible act of cruelty to bring him here to languish in the fetters of his slavery."
Toby, however, was not the only slave on St. Helena. Not long after the first discovery of the island by the Portuguese, Juan Denova Castella, a nobleman, was exiled there for desertion and had to spend four years in complete solitude, except for a few slaves that he was allowed to have with him. The Portuguese did not colonize St. Helena, and after a time the Dutch held it for many years. When they had deserted it, the East India Company, with plenty of capital, took possession and naturally fell back on slave labor to cultivate the fields. When the Dutch saw that St. Helena was likely to prove profitable to the English they tried to get it back again, but the effort was unsuccessful, and since 1666 it has been counted an English possession. At one time a law was passed restricting the importation of slaves, for the colonists had begun to fear that they might outnumber the Europeans. There was, however, an old law that every Madagascar ship should leave one slave to work the company's plantations. The slaves were often troublesome, but the cruelty with which they were treated was inexcusable. Probably many a poor creature on the island had been stolen from his home, just as we know poor Toby had been stolen.
After the arrival of Sir Hudson Lowe, the new Governor reminded the people of St. Helena that their island was the last British possession to retain slavery. Various plans were proposed for doing away with it, and at last, at his suggestion, it was agreed that after Christmas Day, 1818, all children born of slave women should be considered free. Thus the great evil gradually ceased.
This good action on the part of Sir Hudson Lowe—that he helped gain freedom for the slaves—made him no better liked by Napoleon and his friends. From the first, indeed, the Governor was suspicious of Napoleon's friends, and the fear that they were plotting for Napoleon's escape was one of the reasons, probably, for the regulations that greatly annoyed Napoleon. It seemed as if he wished Napoleon to be surrounded entirely by English, for one of his early acts was to tell the French that they were at liberty to leave St. Helena whenever they wished. Every facility, he said, would be offered them to return to Europe. Had he known human nature better, Sir Hudson Lowe would have realized that persons who had given up so much to follow Napoleon would hardly desert him merely because conditions on the island did not suit them.
At last, on one pretext or another, he contrived to have several of Napoleon's attendants sent away,—Santini, the clever little lamplighter, the jack-of-all-trades, who had so often amused Betsy's small brothers with his toys; Rousseau, his artificer; and Archambaud, his coachman, whose reckless driving of the jaunting car always struck terror to Betsy's heart. Most important of all, however, was the departure of Count Las Cases, who had never failed to frown on Betsy's hoydenish pranks. With Count Las Cases went his son, the boy about whom Napoleon had loved to tease Betsy. It was before the end of Napoleon's first year at Longwood that these two were sent away on the charge of bribing a young native of St. Helena to carry a letter to Europe for them. This would not have been a serious offence, except for the reason that the Governor had made a regulation that no letter should be sent to Europe without passing through his hands.
For a time Las Cases and his son were in prison on the island. Later they were despatched to the Cape of Good Hope, where they were detained seven months and at last sent to England.
"Let them take away all my Frenchmen," said Napoleon sadly, after the departure of Las Cases. "I do not want them." He especially missed Las Cases, since it was to him that he daily dictated the material for his Memoirs.