The rumours began in 1798. France and Britain had been at war for five years and now the French army was massing on the Normandy coast. Surrounded by sea, the British had felt safe until now. But Napoleon Bonaparte, alias the Corsican Ogre, had found a way to transport his army of invasion across the English Channel. How? According to newspaper reports, the French had invented a gigantic raft powered by windmills and waterwheels and bristling with guns. It could carry 30,000 men. No, it could hold 60,000 men and 600 cannon besides. Artists were soon turning out 鈥渁ccurate representations鈥� and 鈥渃orrect plans鈥� of the terrible invention so the British could see what Napoleon had in store for them.
FRANCE鈥檚 floating war machine was a fearsome thing. The details of its structure varied according to which 鈥渞eliable鈥� source had provided them 鈥� usually a French prisoner of war or 鈥渁 man lately arrived from France鈥�. But they all agreed on the basics. The raft was huge. And it was on its way. If the enemy could land such a sizeable force in one go, then Britain was truly under threat.
At the beginning of 1798, the people of Britain were convinced the French were coming. Napoleon Bonaparte, the most successful general in France, had been given the task of invading the country. He had won great battles against the Italians and the Austrians; now it was the turn of the British. People were jittery and rumours were rife.
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The jitters soon turned to sniggers. 鈥淭his raft, a sort of floating Bastille, appeared a lot. It was supposedly based on eyewitness accounts but it was more like a UFO sighting. It was preposterous, a product of national hysteria,鈥� says Geoff Quilley, curator of maritime art at the National Maritime Museum in London. By the end of March the monster machine was no longer giving the nation nightmares. Instead, it featured in a musical drama at the Theatre Royal, Covent Garden, where it was blown to bits at the end of each performance.
Across the English Channel, Napoleon had been quicker to dismiss the idea of invasion. Although his army was far superior to Britain鈥檚, his navy was outclassed in every way. As long as the Royal Navy controlled the seaways, there was little chance of reaching England. He invaded Egypt instead.
Three years later, Britain was in the grip of a new invasion scare. The government warned the Lord Mayor of London that 鈥淗is Majesty鈥檚 Ministers FULLY EXPECTED the French would attempt an IMMEDIATE DESCENT upon the island.鈥� This time the British had more reason to be afraid. Napoleon, who had seized power in a military coup in 1799, was determined to conquer the kingdom that had been such a thorn in his side. He had defeated his other European enemies; now he could concentrate on Britain. He was optimistic. The British were tired of war, and their army was weak. Some were tired of their king too and might welcome the French and the prospect of exchanging the monarchy for a republic. The Channel was still a major obstacle, but this time Napoleon believed he could overcome it. It was, he pronounced, merely 鈥渁 ditch which one can jump whenever one is bold enough to try it鈥�. All he had to do was find a way for 100,000 men to jump it at once.
The following spring the invasion was cancelled. France and Britain had made peace, but it didn鈥檛 last, and by 1803 the invasion was on again. Rumours of remarkable rafts began to circulate once more. This time, they were not quite so ludicrous, carrying perhaps 500 men and powered by oarsmen. 鈥淭hese seemed to have slightly more basis in fact,鈥� says Quilley. Besides, there was little reason to doubt them: stranger things had emerged during the long years of war. It was common knowledge that in Paris, Robert Fulton, an American inspired by the French revolution, had built an underwater boat 鈥� a fish-shaped, three-man submarine powered by a hand-cranked propeller. Equally ingenious were his plans for a new type of underwater weapon, the torpedo. In England, William Congreve was busy developing rockets that would ignite or explode on impact.
There were still more madcap ideas. Frenchman Jean-Charles Thilorier suggested flying troops over in gigantic hot-air balloons, each carrying 3000 men. That plan never got off the ground, but another French scheme caused much consternation across the water: a plan to dig a tunnel under the Channel. First mooted during the peace of 1802 as a symbol of friendship, it now seemed more malevolent: if it was built, Napoleon鈥檚 troops could march to England without getting their boots wet.
鈥淭he raft was a sort of floating Bastille. It was preposterous鈥�
But Napoleon had something more traditional in mind. 鈥淭he British public feared he was building huge rafts but what he was actually building were chunky little boats,鈥� says historian Colin White, one of the curators of the Nelson & Napoleon exhibition at the National Maritime Museum. By August 1803 he had a flotilla a thousand strong.
Fortunately for the British, Napoleon was a soldier, not a sailor. A brilliant strategist on land, he was out of his depth when it came to the sea. His first mistake was to choose the wrong man to design the boats. Pierre Forfait was an engineer and 鈥渕arine architect鈥� who had spent his career digging canals and designing barges. His boats would have been fine sailing up and down the river Seine, but would have foundered in a choppy sea. Napoleon鈥檚 second mistake was to ignore those who pointed this out.
Even if the boats had been up to the job, Napoleon had a problem. There are no deep-water anchorages on the north coast of France large enough for a fleet this size. 鈥淗e was forced to assemble his troops at places like Boulogne, which dry out at low tide,鈥� says White. For the invasion to succeed, all the troops would have to reach England at the same time. 鈥淣apoleon didn鈥檛 seem to realise the problem of tides. He didn鈥檛 understand that you can鈥檛 load 100,000 men and get them to sea on one tide. They practised for months and they still couldn鈥檛 do it.鈥�
And if they had, and the boats had been seaworthy, the flotilla faced a further obstacle. 鈥淭he British were right there,鈥� says White. 鈥淭hey had a vast number of small ships 鈥� brigs, schooners and small frigates 鈥� close to the French coast ready to harry and attack.鈥� Further west, the Royal Navy鈥檚 Channel Fleet was on station, ready to race up the seaway if needed. Napoleon鈥檚 own warships, and those of his Spanish allies, were in no position to help. They were blockaded in ports around the French and Spanish coasts, trapped by patrolling British ships.
The British public knew little of this. 鈥淭hey probably thought like Napoleon did and assumed that he could just get on the boats, cross the Channel and conquer England,鈥� says White. Nor did the government try to dispel their fears. If people thought the French were coming they might be more willing to accept the huge cost of the war and even fight for king or country. After so long at war, the people鈥檚 patriotic fervour had waned. The threat of invasion was just the thing to revive it.
There was no invasion in 1803. Nor in 1804. In 1805, Napoleon, now emperor, came up with a grand new strategy. He ordered his ships to escape their blockades, by stealth or by force, and sail for the West Indies. There they would unite into a single, huge fleet and speed back to the mouth of the Channel, where they would sweep aside the British ships guarding it and allow the invasion force to cross.
The plan failed. 鈥淭he British checked his every move,鈥� says White. Some ships escaped the blockades, some sailed back and forth across the Atlantic, but within a few months Napoleon鈥檚 fleet was again scattered. His main force, a combined fleet of French and Spanish ships, had taken refuge at Cadiz on the south coast of Spain. Britain sent the nation鈥檚 hero, vice-admiral Horatio Nelson, to deal with it. Against logic, Napoleon ordered his fleet to the Mediterranean and on 21 October it found itself facing the battle-hardened British fleet off Cape Trafalgar. Nelson鈥檚 resounding victory finally convinced Napoleon to call off the invasion 鈥� this time for good.
Nelson & Napoleon, an exhibition exploring the lives of Horatio Nelson and Napoleon Bonaparte, is at the National Maritime Museum in Greenwich, London, from 7 July until 13 November. For information visit
