The Naval Academy owns a ship model whose 120 miniature guns gave an actual salute to the Russian Czar, Alexander I, just before the latter's defeat by Napoleon in 1813. This model is one of five presented to the early Naval Academy. These five miniature ships a century ago went through land campaigns as disastrous for them as the sea fights in which some of their originals took part. These facts we gather from the following letter of the donor, Alexander Vattemare, written in 1854 to the then Secretary of the Navy, James C. Dobbin.
PARIS, May 8, 1854
Hon. James C. Dobbin,
Secretary of the Navy.
DEAR SIR:
I had yesterday a visit from Lt. Bartlett of the Navy, who came to take possession of the models of ships destined to the U. S. Naval Academy at Annapolis. The collection is composed of five models, viz:
The Ville de Paris of 120 guns
The Aristide of 74 guns
The Junon of 44 guns
The Beneau of 16 guns
A ship of the East India Company
A few words by way of description and history of the collection will not perhaps be deemed out of place here.
The models are [of] highly finished execution on a scale of two and one-half lines to one foot. They were built by Mr. Piedaniel, a distinguished engineer of the seaport town of St. Malo. Their construction was commenced by order of Louis XVI, but not being terminated at the time of the death of that unfortunate monarch, the ships remained upon the hands of the builder, who himself afterwards died from grief and disappointment. Subsequently, in 18to, a gentleman of St. Malo purchased the collection for the sum of 32,000 francs, hoping that he would be able to dispose of it advantageously to the Emperor Napoleon. With this view the purchaser came to Paris with his prize, and finding that the Emperor had just left his capital for Dresden in Germany, he immediately followed in pursuit, taking his little fleet along with him. Soon after his arrival in Dresden, the events of the war obliged the French to evacuate the city, which was taken possession of by the Russians. The collection was then offered to Emperor Alexander, who visited it personally, and ordered a professional report as to its value to be made to him by several Russian and English naval officers who happened to be in the city at that time. The report was favorable, and in consequence of it, the sum of 100,000 francs was offered for the collection in behalf of the Emperor. This offer was declined, the owner having fixed its price at 125,000 francs. Some considerable time was spent in negotiations which finally resulted (so desirous was the Emperor Alexander to possess these models of ships) in the acceptance of the owner's terms. Alexander promised to pay the sum required upon the delivery of the collection.
Meanwhile, the French in their turn, forced the Russians to retire; upon their retreat a party of Cossacks were charged to transport the boxes containing the collection to the opposite side of the river. The bridge over which the Russians had just crossed was blown up by the retreating army. Thereupon the Cossacks immediately abandoned their charge, seeking safety in flight. They threw themselves into the river which they crossed by swimming and rejoined their army. Thus the owner remained in possession of his collection, which amid the rapid and eventful political changes which followed, he was unable to dispose of. His pecuniary resources entirely exhausted, this gentleman now found himself destitute, and in a foreign land amongst people who, by genius and habits, were incapable of duly appreciating the beautiful and valuable collection of maritime objects of which he was the possessor. Such, was the condition in which in 1814, being myself a prisoner of war at Berlin, I found that respectable gentleman with his family, a wife and two children. It was then, and in order to effect the relief of that excellent but unfortunate family, that I became an artist under the name of Alexander the Ventriloquist. My efforts were successful. I enabled them in 1826 to return to France with the collection of model ships which still remained in their possession. Subsequently, upon the death of the owner of the ships they became my property, I having married his daughter.
But having no suitable room in which to place them, and being moreover almost constantly absent from home, I obtained permission from the Minister of the Navy in 1827 to place them in the building of the Navy Department, and there they have remained from that time to this, carelessly tossed from one room to another, frequently removed from one story to another, from attics to garrets, suffering immensely in the course of these changes from neglect, rough usage and plundering, till they now appear the mere wrecks of what they were, most of the cannons and much of the rigging have disappeared. These models were originally complete with all the appurtenances of ships of war in the minutest particulars of rigging, equipment and armament. When the Emperor Alexander visited the collection at Dresden, he was saluted with 120 guns fired from the Ville de Paris.
On my first visit to the United States in 1839, I happened to speak of this collection to the Honorable John Quincy Adams, and when I told him that among these vessels was the Ville de Paris he exclaimed—"but this man-of-war, commanded by Count de Grasse, was lost in coming to our assistance; how I should like to see that model, for I saw the original and went on board of her!" I asked Mr. Adams if he thought the presentation of it would be acceptable by the United States. He said it would by all means, and not only so, but that he would propose to have it placed in the center of the Congress Library as a memento of French sympathy for America, with an inscription upon it recalling the circumstances connected with the loss of that man-of-war in 1782.
From that time I determined to surrender the whole fleet to the United States as an humble testimonial of my respect and devotion towards your glorious country. Immediately upon my return to France in 18.41, I made application to the French Government to have the whole put in good order. My request was granted for the Ville de Paris only, and I was requested to send her to the Louvre for that purpose. Mr. Le Bas, one of our most celebrated engineers, the same that erected the obelisk of Louxor, was ordered to superintend the repairs, and although he declared it would cost about 2,500 francs at least, it was nevertheless to be repaired. The moment I was informed of this favorable disposition, I invited the Honorable General [Lewis] Cass, then American Minister to France, to go and see the dilapidated state in which the model was that he might have an idea of the extent of the kind feelings of the Government towards the United States.
Meanwhile I made my second visit to America, during which political events brought on such important changes, and although the feelings of France for America are as strong as ever and perhaps stronger, yet I did not renew my application to this Government, fearing that the present circumstances are not favorable for obtaining a favor which, at any other time, would have been readily granted.
I must therefore beg of you, Dear Sir, to accept our fleet in the state it is, looking exactly as if it had just issued from a terrible conflict, with my regret that it is so unworthy of its high destination; apologizing at the same time for having entered into such long details about so little an affair. But as this collection may be considered, in some sort, as the original cause of that career as artist, which has enabled me to become the humble but devoted Advocate and missionary of the system of exchange, the precursor of a great intellectual union of Nations, I thought that these circumstances might be of some interest to one who has showed himself so friendly and so resolute a supporter of my laborious efforts to obtain this noble end.
I remain, Dear Sir,
Your very humble and devoted Servant
ALEXANDER VATTEMARE
These five beautiful models have been at the Naval Academy now for three-quarters of a century. Unfortunately all except the Ville de Paris have for years borne names at the Academy different from those in the donor's letter. Unfortunately also, the donor—in at least two cases, the Aristide and the Berieau—names ships which according to Captain Chack, Chief of the Historical Division of the French Ministry of Marine, never existed in the French Navy. Of the five models, the Ville de Paris is of course the best known to fame. This French ship of the line was built by the citizens of Paris as a gift to Louis XV. At her launching she was the last word in naval construction. In the Battle of Saints' Passage in the West Indies, April 12, 1782, she was the flagship of Admiral de Grasse, who had brought such timely aid to Washington in the Yorktown campaign the year before. In this "Battle of the Saints" the Ville de Paris, surrounded by enemy ships and after a heroic defense lasting five hours, surrendered to Admiral Rodney. De Grasse was one of the only three unwounded men on her decks. On board the Ville de Paris, which was later taken into the British service, Admiral Colingwood died five years after his great part in the Battle of Trafalgar.
Besides the Vile de Paris, the other four models, as named by Vattemare, are: the Aristide, 74 guns; the Junon, 44 guns; the Berieau, 16 guns; and an East Indiaman. These four models at the Naval Academy are readily identified because in numerous details of workmanship they are similar to each other and to the Ville de Paris model. It is evident from Vattemare's letters that he was not strong on history. The labels on the old dilapidated models left him by his father-in-law were probably gone, and he rechristened them somewhat by guesswork. Captain Chack, in a recent letter to the writer, stated that there was no such French warship as the Aristide, and that the word Berieau has no meaning and probably referred to the well-known French sloop of war Berceau. The so-called Aristide has for many years been carried on the records simply as a French ship of the line, which she plainly is. The 44-gun frigate Junon has, after much repainting, been misnamed the Didon, but still bears the date 1797 on her stern. This date helps to identify her as the Junon, which in that year joined Admiral Brueys, played a minor part the next year in the Battle of the Nile, and was captured by the British, June 18, 1799. The Berceau, if such she is, represents the French sloop of war captured by the United States frigate Boston, October 12, 1800. Therefore two of the four smaller models probably are miniatures of French cruisers well known in their day for their losing fights against American and British antagonists.
The Naval Academy owns another remarkable ship model, the Dante, 1657, which has for many years been confused with the Vattemare collection. But the Dante is utterly different from them in workmanship. Moreover, she plainly belongs to the warship era of a previous century, as is proved by the lateen sail on her mizzen, the great quantity of elaborate decoration on her bow and stern, and the "gingerbread" work on her hull. According to an old letter in the superintendent's files, the Dante was probably the Genoese model which was bought for a song at the instance of Captain Blake in 1860. Besides, as Captain Chack wrote some years ago, France had no Dante among her warships of the seventeenth century design. The outbreak of the ironclad era of the Civil War, just when Captain Blake acquired the Genoese model, fixed the attention of the Naval Academy and of the nation for many subsequent years on other matters than ship models of ancient European windjammers. It is therefore quite natural that the Dante and Vattemare's miniature ships quickly became lost in legendary history. In keeping with legendary history also is the name Dante, for a search of the Italian Navy's records reveal no such ship. Dante was probably as good a name as any for a ship of the great days of Genoese sea power.
The donor of these five models seems to have been unknown to fame. He calls himself an artist, but no clue to his life or work appears in any contemporary record or elsewhere. In the archives of the Naval Academy Museum there is a letter in Vattemare's hand, dated December 24, 1849, in which he presents to the Naval Lyceum at the Brooklyn Navy Yard some books by French authors on nautical science, naval history, etc. These works, he says, "were entrusted to my care by France for presentation to the United States." It will be recalled that at this time France was in the throes of the Revolution of '48, which ended by making Napoleon III Emperor. While, therefore, Vattemare left no mark as an artist, his gift illustrated not only his own generous spirit but was evidently intended as a good will offering for his country. And if M. Vattemare is remembered for his gift, M. Piedaniel, the maker of the models, has also a claim on our admiration, for as a ship modeler he was an artist. As said before, the models are products of remarkable workmanship. To take but one little detail, the scraping off of many layers of paint and varnish brings to light innumerable tiny brass hinges on gun ports and hatches, which were wrought with infinite patience and skill. Unfortunately, much of the original rigging and equipment was lost, probably before this little fleet of many cruises ever reached its final anchorage at the Naval Academy. Of the 120 guns that saluted Alexander I, not one is left. Napoleon's careless interruption prevented the Czar's buying the ships for 125,000 francs. At a conservative guess they are worth as many dollars today.