Before the days of hypersonic missiles, Old World kings and emperors built castles on the open seas.
King Louis XIV was the first to be convinced to take action to close the gap and fortify what the then the vulnerable naval port of Rochefort. The gap lay between two islands: Ile d’Oléron, to the southwest, and Ile d’Aix, to the northeast. What looks like a floating castle in the ocean lies there today, between said islands. This wonder of human engineering was called Fort Boyard.
But the odds were stacked against the Sun King. “Sire, it would be easier to seize the moon with the teeth than to attempt such a task in this place,” the architect known today only as Vauban told King Louis, speaking of the proposed sea fortress.
By the late 1660s, construction on the project had gotten underway alongside a host of fortification works to protect the port from English attackers. In the end, Vauban’s forecast proved correct. As money was poured in and workers labored to produce an artificial island, the French soon realized that both the cost and scope of the endeavor were excessive. And so it was abandoned.
It was proved just how vulnerable the French really were when, in the mid-18th century, very little could be done about the English fleet sacking the Island of Aix. It was only thanks to a new strategy during Napoleon’s reign that work resumed on Fort Boyard in 1803. Now, though, instead of the sprawling bastion fortress that had been planned, it was re-envisioned as a frontal fire emplacement. Capitalizing on massive guns, the installation would be much smaller and tighter but packed with firepower.
But, as public funds were poured in and headlines assailed the effort, the emperor was hard-pressed to finish. Napoleon eventually reduced its scale. Originally conceived as an oval measuring 80 meters (262 feet) long, 40 meters (131 feet) wide, and 20 meters (65 feet) high, it now shrunk to 68 meters (223 feet) long and 21 meters (68 feet) wide.
The lower levels would house sleeping quarters and store food. The upper levels held munitions, guns, and cannons. Ultimately, the station could be manned comfortably by a crew of 250. A stair allowed sailors and supplies to gain access from a wharf, now long gone. A watchtower atop the ramparts monitored the coming and going of ships, friendly or otherwise.
Over a century had passed since Fort Boyard’s conception. But soon, their efforts were dashed once again—and not just because of the inherent challenges of building a fort in the middle of the ocean. The English struck, sending otherwise useless “fireships” packed with explosives to deliver what would be the project’s death knell. At least, for now.
It is, perhaps, the greatest irony of all that Fort Boyard was eventually completed, and not long after, under King Louie Philippe in 1857; but it now was rendered obsolete, for artillery technology of the day had caught up, completely allaying the need for a gun station between the two islands. The gap could now be protected amply from the shore.
But, as so much of the French people’s money had been poured in, it had to be used for something. Now strategically outmoded, for a few years it became a military prison. It was closed again in 1913 and wouldn’t reopen until the late 20th century. Then, from 1989 onward, it would serve a less serious purpose.
The good news? Fort Boyard received a facelift worthy of its original grandiose vision. Peeling back layers of waste and restoring the artillery platforms, it looks almost ready for war. Yet the only combat the installation would see would be virtual: years later the fort made a cameo appearance in the “Counter-Strike” video game.
