The Foreign Service Journal, March 2003

64 F O R E I G N S E R V I C E J O U R N A L / M A R C H 2 0 0 3 I had come to St. Helena, a territo- ry of Great Britain, via a ship, which is the only way you can come to this airport-deprived island. Armed with guidebook knowledge about its 1,000-foot-high cliffs, I expected to see a forbidding place focusing on the past. After all, St. Helena is famous for being Napoleon’s place of exile after his defeat at Waterloo. He spent the final six years of his life there and died in Longwood House, now filled with Napoleonic memorabilia. Instead I found a green gem of an island, with astonishing contrasts of stark deserts, flax-filled valleys, soft pastures and wandering cows. And Jonathan the tortoise. I seemed to be the only one afraid of Jonathan. No other tourist seemed surprised to find a 200-year- old turtle on this remote island. The Plantation House, or Jonathan’s home as I secretly thought of it, was built in 1792 as a country residence for the honorable governor of the East India Company. Today it is used for the current governor of St. Helena and by Jonathan and his younger friends, Emma, David, Myrtle and Fredrika. Though the house itself is off-limits unless invited in, I was free to wander the grounds, to admire the beautiful flowers and tread my way carefully through giant tortoises. Our first stop was Napoleon’s Tomb, which oddly enough is unoccu- pied. Napoleon Bonaparte chose this spot as his final resting place in 1821, but his body was returned to France in 1840. Nevertheless, a guard stands sentry there, sternly overseeing the large, blank gravestone. The grave- stone is blank because authorities could not agree whether he should be called “Emperor” or a more lowly “General.” The opposing sides never agreed while he resided in St. Helena, so the grave has no inscription at all. Napoleon and his grave, home and bathtub are huge draws for the tourist trade. As we made our way up the mountain to see Longwood House, we were astonished to see how relaxed the cows were. Casually crossing the road, the livestock seemed to think they owned the byways. Which, as a matter of fact, they do, according to our guide. When Great Britain imposed stricter sanitary standards on milk produc- tion in St. Helena, the cow-owning locals decided enough was enough and freed the livestock. Now cows roam at will, and whoever wants to milk them, draws up a pail. Much easier, the guide explained, to let everyone have some. When I arrived at Longwood House, I was particularly pleased to see the lovely flower gardens that Napoleon had designed, including sunken paths, a pond and a gazebo. Inside, the house seemed a mix of the mundane and the historic. It was interesting to see the emperor’s bath- tub (a nasty tin affair), a cloak and hat, the bed he died in, and the original billiard table and cues. They jostled for space with Longwood House souvenirs, such as hats, T-shirts and postcards. It seemed an ignoble end for the man who would run the world. When I ended the tour by walking the streets of Jamestown, the capital, I did not feel alone. After all, Napoleon walked here, as did Captain Bligh, Arthur Haley, Charles Darwin, and Captain James Cook. The island reminded me of colonial conquest, slavery, the age of sailing ships, war, and exile. St. Helena is an island that remembers the past, but it’s also a beautiful, quirky place where cows roam free, sentries guard an empty grave, and tortoises mow the lawn of the governor’s house. But I still would watch out for Jonathan. St. Helena remembers the past, but it’s also a quirky place. Terry Abrams is a freelance travel writer based in Washington, DC, who has written about Vienna, South Africa, and Iceland. Though her travels have taken her all over the world, she’s been uniformly afraid of large reptiles. The stamp is courtesy of the AAFSW Bookfair “Stamp Corner.” R EFLECTIONS Searching for the Past in St. Helena B Y T ERRY A BRAMS