The Bill Respecting Our Exile.—Beaumarchais.—The Works of Cherbourg

July 15, 1816. About ten o’clock, the Emperor entered my apartment: he came unawares, as he wished to take a walk. I followed him, and he walked for some time towards the wood, where we were taken up by the calash. A considerable interval had elapsed since he made use of it. I was the only person with him, and the Bill, which related to him, and with the nature of which we were unacquainted, was, during the whole time, the subject of our conversation.

Upon our return, the Emperor, after some hesitation whether he should breakfast under the trees, determined to go in, and remained at home the whole of the day. He dined alone.

He sent for me after dinner; I found him engaged in reading some Mercures or old newspapers. He found in them various anecdotes and circumstances respecting Beaumarchais, whom the Emperor, during his Consulate, had, notwithstanding all his wit, uniformly discountenanced, on account of his bad character and his gross immorality. The difference of manners imparted a poignancy to the anecdotes, although the difference of times was so trifling. He found an account of Louis the Sixteenth’s visit to Cherbourg, on which he dwelt for some time. He next adverted to the works of Cherbourg, and took a rapid review of them, with the clearness, precision, and lively manner that characterized every thing he said.

Cherbourg is situated at the bottom of a semicircular bay, the two extremities of which are the Pelée Island on the right, and Point Querqueville on the left. The line, by which these two points are connected, forms the chord or the diameter, and runs East and West.

Opposite to the North, and at a very small distance, about 20 leagues, is the famous Portsmouth, the grand arsenal of the English. The remainder of their coast runs nearly parallel opposite to ours. Nature has done every thing for our rivals; nothing for us. Their shores are safe and clear themselves daily from obstructions. They abound in deep soundings, in the means of shelter, in harbours and excellent ports; ours are, on the contrary, full of rocks, the water is shallow, and they are every day choking up. We have not in these parts a single real port of large dimensions, and it might be said that the English are, at the same moment, both at home and on our coast, since it is not requisite for their squadrons, at anchor in Portsmouth, to put to sea to molest us. A few light vessels are sufficient to convey intelligence of our movements, and, in an instant, without trouble or danger, they are ready to pounce upon their prey.

If, on the contrary, our squadrons are daring enough to appear in the British Channel, which ought, in reality, to be called the French Sea, they are exposed to perpetual danger; their total destruction may be effected by the hurricane or the superiority of the enemy, because in both these cases there is no shelter for them. This is what happened at the famous battle of La Hogue, where Tourville might have united the glory of a skilful retreat with that of a hard fought and unequal contest, had there been a port for him to take shelter in.

In this state of things, men of great sagacity and anxious for the welfare of their country, prevailed upon government, by dint of projects and memorials, to seek, by the assistance of art, those resources of which we had been deprived by nature; and, after a great deal of hesitation, the bay of Cherbourg was selected, and it was determined to protect it by an immense dike, projecting into the sea. In that way we were to acquire, even close to the enemy, an artificial road, whence our ships might be able, in all times and in all weathers, to attack his, or to escape his pursuit.

“It was,” said the Emperor, “a magnificent and glorious undertaking, very difficult with respect to the execution and to the finances of that period. The dike was to be formed by immense cones constructed empty in the port and towed afterwards to the spot, where they were sunk by the weight of the stones with which they were filled. There certainly was great ingenuity in the invention. Louis XVI. honoured these operations with his presence. His departure from Versailles was a great event. In those times, a king never left his residence, his excursions did not extend beyond the limits of a hunting party; they did not hurry about as at present, and I really believe that I contributed not a little to the rapidity of their movements.

“However, as it was absolutely necessary that things should be impressed with the character of the age, the eternal rivalry between the land and sea, that question which can never be decided, continued to be carried on. It might have been said in that respect, that there were two kings in France, or that he who reigned had two interests, and ought to have two wills, which proved rather that he had none at all. Here the sea was the only subject for consideration, yet the question was decided in favour of the land, not by superiority of argument, but by priority of right. Where the fate of the empire was at stake, a point of precedence was substituted, and thus the grand object, the magnificent enterprise, failed of success. The land-party established itself at Pelée Island and at fort Querqueville; it was employed there merely to lend an auxiliary hand to the construction of the dike, which was itself the chief object; but instead of that, it began by establishing its own predominance, and afterwards compelled the dike to become the instrument of its convenience, and subservient to its plans and discretion. What was the result? The harbour, which was forming and which was intended to contain the mass of our navy, whether designed to strike at the heart of the enemy’s power, or to take occasional shelter, could only accommodate fifteen sail at most, while we wanted anchorage for more than a hundred, which might have been effected without more labour and with little more expense, had the works been carried more forward into the sea, merely beyond the limits which the land-party had appropriated to itself.

“Another blunder highly characteristic, and scarcely conceivable, took place. All the principal measures for completing the harbour were fixed upon; the dike commenced; one of the channels, that to the eastward, finished, and the other to the westward was on the point of being formed, without an exact and precise knowledge of all the soundings. This oversight was so great that the channel already formed, that to the eastward, five hundred fathoms broad, having been carried too close to the fort, did not, without inconvenience, admit vessels at low water, and that the other, which was about to be constructed to the westward, would have been impracticable, or at least very dangerous, but for the individual zeal of one officer (M. de Chavagnac), who made that important discovery in time, and caused the works on the left extremity of the dike to be stopped at the distance of twelve hundred fathoms from fort Querqueville, by which it was to be defended. This seems to me, and is, in fact, too great a distance.

“The system adopted in the works of the dike, which is more than a league from the shore, and more than 1900 fathoms long by 90 feet broad, was also subjected to numerous changes, suggested, however, by experience. The cones, which, according to the established principle, ought to have touched each other at their bases, were, in that respect, either separated by accident or with a view to economy. They were damaged by storms, eaten by worms, or rotted with age. They were at length altogether neglected, with the exception of stones thrown at random into the sea; and when it was observed that these were scattered by the rolling of the waves, recourse was had to enormous blocks, which finally answered every expectation.

“The works were continued, without interruption, under Louis XVI. An encreased degree of activity was imparted to them by our legislative assemblies; but in consequence of the commotions which soon followed, they were completely abandoned, and at the time of the Consulate, not a trace of that famous dike was to be seen. Every thing had been destroyed for several feet under low water level, by the original imperfection of the plan, by the length of time, and the violence of the waves.

“The moment, however, I took the helm of affairs, one of the first things I did was to turn my attention to so important a point. I ordered commissions of inquiry; I had the subject discussed in my presence; I made myself acquainted with the local circumstances; and I decided that the dike should be run up with all possible expedition, and that two solid fortifications should, in the course of time, be constructed at the two extremities; but that measures should be immediately taken for the establishment of a considerable provisional battery. I had then to encounter, on all sides, the inconveniencies, the objections, the particular views, the fondness which attaches itself to individual opinions, &c. Several maintained that the thing certainly could not be done; I continued steady, I insisted, I commanded, and the thing was done. In less than two years, a real island was seen rising as it were, by magic, from the sea, on which was erected a battery of large calibre. Until that moment, our labours had almost constantly been the sport of the English; they had, they said, been convinced, from their origin, that they would prove fruitless; they had foretold that the cones would destroy themselves, that the small stones would be swept away by the waves, and above all, they relied upon our lassitude and our inconstancy. But here things were completely altered, and they made a shew of molesting our operations; they were, however, too late; I was already prepared for them. The western channel naturally continued very wide, and the two extreme fortifications, which defended, each its peculiar passage, being incapable of maintaining a cross-fire, it was probable that an enterprising enemy might be enabled to force the western channel, come to an anchor within the dike, and there renew the disaster of Aboukir. But I had already guarded against this with my central provisional battery. However, as I am for permanent establishments, I ordered within the dike, in the centre, by way of support, and which in its turn might serve as an envelope, an enormous elliptical paté to be constructed, commanding the central battery, and mounted itself in two casemated stories, bomb-proof, with 50 pieces of large calibre and 20 mortars of an extensive range, as well as barracks, powder-magazine, cistern, &c.

“I have the satisfaction of having left this noble work in a finished state.

“Having provided for the defensive, my only business was to prepare offensive measures, which consisted in the means of collecting the mass of our fleets at Cherbourg. The harbour, however, could contain but fifteen sail. For the purpose of increasing the number, I caused a new port to be dug; the Romans never undertook a more important, a more difficult task, or one which promised a more lasting duration! It was sunk into the granite to the depth of 50 feet, and I caused the opening of it to be celebrated by the presence of Maria Louisa, while I myself was on the fields of battle in Saxony. By this means I procured anchorage for 25 sail more. Still that number was not sufficient, and I therefore relied upon very different means of augmenting my naval strength. I was resolved to renew the wonders of Egypt at Cherbourg. I had already erected my pyramid in the sea; I would also have my lake Mœris. My great object was to be enabled to concentrate all our maritime force, and in time, it would have been immense and adequate to strike a fatal blow against the enemy. I was preparing my scene of action in such a way, that the two nations, in their totality, might have been enabled to grapple with each other, man to man, and the issue could not be doubtful, for we should have been more than 40 millions of French against 15 millions of English. I should have wound up the war, with a battle of Actium, and afterwards what did I want of England? Her destruction? Certainly not. I merely wanted the end of an intolerable usurpation, the enjoyment of imprescriptible and sacred rights, the deliverance, the liberty, of the seas, the independence, the honour, of flags. I was speaking in the name of all and for all, and I should have succeeded by concession or by force. I had, on my side, power, indisputable right, the wishes of nations,” &c.

I have reasons for believing that the Emperor, disgusted with the losses occasioned by partial attempts at sea, and enlightened by fatal experience, had adopted a new system of maritime warfare.

The war between England and France had insensibly assumed the aspect of a real struggle for life or death. The irritation of all the English against Napoleon was raised to the highest degree. His Berlin and Milan decrees, his continental system, and his offensive expressions, had shocked all minds on the other side of the Channel; while the English ministers, by their libels, fabrications, and all imaginable means, had succeeded, by exciting every passion, in rendering the quarrel altogether national. On this ground, it was declared in full Parliament, that the war was perpetual, or at least for life. The Emperor thought it his duty to shape his plans in conformity to that state of things, and from that instant, as much from calculation as from necessity, he gave up all kind of cruizing, distant enterprizes, and hazardous attempts. He determined upon a strict defensive system, until his continental affairs should be finally settled, and the accumulation of his maritime force should allow him to strike, with certainty, at a later period. He, therefore, retained the whole of his shipping in port, and confined himself to the gradual augmentation of our naval resources, without exposing them to any further risk. Every thing was calculated on the basis of a remote result.

Our navy had lost a great number of vessels, the greatest part of our good seamen were prisoners in England, and all our ports were blockaded by the English, who obstructed their communications. The Emperor ordered canals in Britanny, by means of which, and in spite of the enemy, points of communication for providing Brest with all kinds of supplies were established between Bordeaux, Rochefort, Nantes, Holland, Antwerp, Cherbourg, and that port. He was desirous of having wet docks at Flushing or in its neighbourhood, for the purpose of containing the Antwerp squadron, completely equipped and ready to put to sea in four-and-twenty hours, which was necessarily confined in the Scheldt four or five months of the year. Finally, he projected near Boulogne, or on some spot along that coast, the construction of a dike similar to that of Cherbourg, and between Cherbourg and Brest, a suitable harbour at the Ile-à-Bois. All this was planned, for the purpose of securing, at all times and without danger, a full and free communication to our large ships between Antwerp and Brest. To obviate the want of seamen, and the great difficulty of forming them, it was ordered that the young conscripts should be, every day, trained in all our ports. They were, at first, to be put on board small light vessels, and a flotilla of that kind was even to navigate the Zuiderzee; they were afterwards to be turned over to large ships and immediately replaced by others of the same class. The vessels were ordered to get under sail every day, to go through every possible manœuvre and evolution, and even to exchange shots with the enemy, without exposing themselves to the chance of an engagement.

The last point was the force and number of our vessels; they were considerable, notwithstanding all our losses, and the Emperor calculated on being enabled to build 20 or 25 yearly. The crews would be ready as fast as they were wanted, and thus, at the expiration of four or six years, he could have relied upon having 200 sail of the line, and perhaps 300, had that number been necessary, in less than 10 years. And what was that period in comparison with the perpetual war, or the war for life, which was declared against us? The affairs of the continent would, in the mean time, be brought to a termination; the whole of it would have embraced our system; the Emperor would have marched back the greatest part of his troops to our coast, and it was in that situation that he looked with confidence to a decisive issue of the contest. All the respective resources of the two nations would have been called into action, and we should then, in his opinion, subdue our enemies by moral energy, or strangle them by our material strength.

The Emperor entertained several projects for the improvement of the navy, and adapted to that end part of his military tactics. He intended to establish his offensive and defensive line from Cape Finisterre to the mouth of the Elbe. He was to have had three squadrons with admirals commanding in chief, as he had corps d’armée with their generals in chief. The Admiral of the centre was to establish his head quarters at Cherbourg; of the left, at Brest; and of the right, at Antwerp. Smaller divisions were to be stationed at the extremities, at Rochefort, and at Ferrol, in the Texel, and at the mouth of the Elbe, for the purpose of turning and outflanking the enemy. All these points were to be connected by numerous intermediate stations, and their respective commanders in chief were to be considered as constantly present, by the assistance of telegraphs, which, lining the coast, were to preserve an uninterrupted communication between the parts of the grand system.

Let us consider, however, what would have been the conduct of the English during our preparations and the progressive increase of our naval power. Would they have continued the blockade of our ports? We should have had the satisfaction of witnessing the wear and tear of their cruising squadrons; we should have compelled them to maintain 100 or 150 vessels constantly exposed on our coasts to the violence of tempests, to the danger of rocks, to all the hazards of disaster, while we, on the contrary, had every chance of success, should any unforeseen catastrophe occur from natural events, or the faults of their admirals, which could not fail to happen in the course of time. What advantages should we not have derived from the event? We, fresh and in excellent condition; we, waiting only for the opportunity, always ready to set sail and engage! Should the English be tired out? Our vessels would immediately put to sea for the purpose of exercising and training their crews.

On the completion of our armaments and at the approach of the decisive moment, were the English alarmed for the safety of their island, to collect their strength in front of their principal arsenals, Plymouth, Portsmouth, and the Thames, our three divisions of Brest, Cherbourg, and Antwerp, would attack them, and our wings would turn then upon Ireland and Scotland. Were they, relying upon their skill and bravery, resolved to oppose us in one great body, then the struggle would be reduced to a decisive issue, of which we should have been at liberty to choose the time, the place, and the opportunity;—and this is what the Emperor called the battle of Actium, in which, if we were defeated, we should experience but simple losses, while, if we proved victorious, the enemy would cease to exist. But our triumph, he maintained, was certain, for the two nations would have to contend man to man, and we were upwards of forty millions against fifteen. This was the favourite position on which he uniformly dwelt. Such was one of his grand ideas, his gigantic conceptions.

Napoleon has been the founder of so many establishments, that his works and monuments are injurious to each other by their number, variety, and importance. It was my earnest wish to have given a full relation of his works, which were executed at Cherbourg, as well as of those which he had projected. A person precisely of the profession best qualified to appreciate the subject, and one of its brightest ornaments, has promised me a description of them. Should he keep his word, it shall be given hereafter.