On the 21st of July the army came within sight of the Pyramids, which,
but for their regularity of outline might have been taken for a distant
ridge of rocky mountains. While every eye was fixed on these hoary
monuments of the past, the troops gained the brow of a gentle eminence,
and saw at length spread out before them the vast armies of the Beys,
its right, posted on an intrenched camp by the Nile, its centre and left
composed of that brilliant cavalry with which they were by this time
acquainted. Napoleon, riding forward to reconnoitre, perceived, what
escaped the observation of all his staff, that the guns of the
entrenched camp were not provided with carriages; and instantly decided
on his plan of attack. He prepared to throw his force on the left, where
the guns could not be made available. “Soldiers,” said Napoleon, “from
the summit of yonder pyramid, forty ages behold you;” and the battle
began.
[Illustration: THE SPEECH AT THE PYRAMIDS.]
“ALL WHOM I COMMAND ARE MY CHILDREN.”
We may easily form an idea of the condition of the Egyptians, subject to
the oppression of the Mamelukes on the one hand, and the rapacity of the
Arabs on the other, when the French entered their territory under
Napoleon, announcing themselves as avengers and liberators, as we find
by the following occurrence, which has furnished the subject of M.
Delorme’s composition.
One day when Buonaparte was surrounded by the grand Sheiks, some one
told him that the Arabs of the tribe of Osnadis had entered with an
armed band into a village, driven off the herds, and killed an
unfortunate fellah, who endeavored to make some resistance. Full of
indignation, he ordered 200 dromedaries and 300 horsemen to take the
field in pursuit of the guilty party. The Sheiks, surprised at the
animated tone in which this command was given, looked at each other, for
to them the life of a poor fellah was of no consequence. One of them
observed to him that he had better not embroil himself with the Arabs, a
people always dangerous, who could retaliate more than the evil he could
inflict on them. “Wherefore,” added the Sheik Elmodi, “all this stir?
Because they have killed a fellah! Was he then thy cousin?” “More than
that!” cried Napoleon with energy, “all whom I command are my children!”
And his gesture, more weighty than his words, sufficiently indicated
that he took under his protection the unfortunate who came to plead for
vengeance. “_Taib!_” cried the astonished Sheik, “thou speakest like a
prophet.”--1798.
[Illustration: “ALL WHOM I COMMAND ARE MY CHILDREN.”]