EGYPT
Among the many misconceptions of the French revolutionists none was
more insidious than the notion that the wealth and power of the
British people rested on an artificial basis. This mistaken belief in
England's weakness arose out of the doctrine taught by the
_Economistes_ or _Physiocrates_ in the latter half of last century,
that commerce was not of itself productive of wealth, since it only
promoted the distribution of the products of the earth; but that
agriculture was the sole source of true wealth and prosperity. They
therefore exalted agriculture at the expense of commerce and
manufactures, and the course of the Revolution, which turned largely
on agrarian questions, tended in the same direction. Robespierre and
St. Just were never weary of contrasting the virtues of a simple
pastoral life with the corruptions and weakness engendered by foreign
commerce; and when, early in 1793, Jacobinical zeal embroiled the
young Republic with England, the orators of the Convention confidently
prophesied the downfall of the modern Carthage. Kersaint declared that
"the credit of England rests upon fictitious wealth: ... bounded in
territory, the public future of England is found almost wholly in its
bank, and this edifice is entirely supported by naval commerce. It is
easy to cripple this commerce, and especially so for a power like
France, which stands alone on her own riches."[90]
Commercial interests played a foremost part all through the struggle.
The official correspondence of Talleyrand in 1797 proves that the
Directory intended to claim the Channel Islands, the north of
Newfoundland, and all our conquests in the East Indies made since
1754, besides the restitution of Gibraltar to Spain.[91] Nor did these
hopes seem extravagant. The financial crisis in London and the mutiny
at the Nore seemed to betoken the exhaustion of England, while the
victories of Bonaparte raised the power of France to heights never
known before. Before the victory of Duncan over the Dutch at
Camperdown (October 11th, 1797), Britain seemed to have lost her naval
supremacy.
The recent admission of State bankruptcy at Paris, when two-thirds of
the existing liabilities were practically expunged, sharpened the
desire of the Directory to compass England's ruin, an enterprise which
might serve to restore French credit and would certainly engage those
vehement activities of Bonaparte that could otherwise work mischief in
Paris. On his side he gladly accepted the command of the _Army of
England_.
"The people of Paris do not remember anything," he said to
Bourrienne. "Were I to remain here long, doing nothing, I should be
lost. In this great Babylon everything wears out: my glory has
already disappeared. This little Europe does not supply enough of
it for me. I must seek it in the East: all great fame comes from
that quarter. However, I wish first to make a tour along the
[northern] coast to see for myself what may be attempted. If the
success of a descent upon England appear doubtful, as I suspect it
will, the Army of England shall become the Army of the East, and I
go to Egypt."[92]
In February, 1798, he paid a brief visit to Dunkirk and the Flemish
coast, and concluded that the invasion of England was altogether too
complicated to be hazarded except as a last desperate venture. In a
report to the Government (February 23rd) he thus sums up the whole
situation:
"Whatever efforts we make, we shall not for some years gain the
naval supremacy. To invade England without that supremacy is the
most daring and difficult task ever undertaken.... If, having
regard to the present organization of our navy, it seems impossible
to gain the necessary promptness of execution, then we must really
give up the expedition against England, _be satisfied with keeping
up the pretence of it_, and concentrate all our attention and
resources on the Rhine, in order to try to deprive England of
Hanover and Hamburg:[93] ... or else undertake an eastern
expedition which would menace her trade with the Indies. And if
none of these three operations is practicable, I see nothing else
for it but to conclude peace with England."
The greater part of his career serves as a commentary on these
designs. To one or other of them he was constantly turning as
alternative schemes for the subjugation of his most redoubtable foe.
The first plan he now judged to be impracticable; the second, which
appears later in its fully matured form as his Continental System, was
not for the present feasible, because France was about to settle
German affairs at the Congress of Rastadt; to the third he therefore
turned the whole force of his genius.
The conquest of Egypt and the restoration to France of her supremacy
in India appealed to both sides of Bonaparte's nature. The vision of
the tricolour floating above the minarets of Cairo and the palace of
the Great Mogul at Delhi fascinated a mind in which the mysticism of
the south was curiously blent with the practicality and passion for
details that characterize the northern races. To very few men in the
world's history has it been granted to dream grandiose dreams and all
but realize them, to use by turns the telescope and the microscope of
political survey, to plan vast combinations of force, and yet to
supervise with infinite care the adjustment of every adjunct. Cæsar,
in the old world, was possibly the mental peer of Bonaparte in this
majestic equipoise of the imaginative and practical qualities; but of
Cæsar we know comparatively little; whereas the complex workings of
the greatest mind of the modern world stand revealed in that
storehouse of facts and fancies, the "Correspondance de Napoléon." The
motives which led to the Eastern Expedition are there unfolded. In the
letter which he wrote to Talleyrand shortly before the signature of
the peace of Campo Formio occurs this suggestive passage:
"The character of our nation is to be far too vivacious amidst
prosperity. If we take for the basis of all our operations true
policy, which is nothing else than the calculation of combinations
and chances, we shall long be _la grande nation_ and the arbiter of
Europe. I say more: we hold the balance of Europe: we will make
that balance incline as we wish; and, if such is the order of fate,
I think it by no means impossible that we may in a few years attain
those grand results of which the heated and enthusiastic
imagination catches a glimpse, and which the extremely cool,
persistent, and calculating man will alone attain."
This letter was written when Bonaparte was bartering away Venice to
the Emperor in consideration of the acquisition by France of the
Ionian Isles. Its reference to the vivacity of the French was
doubtless evoked by the orders which he then received to
"revolutionize Italy." To do that, while the Directory further
extorted from England Gibraltar, the Channel Islands, and her eastern
conquests, was a programme dictated by excessive vivacity. The
Directory lacked the practical qualities that selected one great
enterprise at a time and brought to bear on it the needful
concentration of effort. In brief, he selected the war against
England's eastern commerce as his next sphere of action; for it
offered "an arena vaster, more necessary and resplendent" than war
with Austria; "if we compel the [British] Government to a peace, the
advantages we shall gain for our commerce in both hemispheres will be
a great step towards the consolidation of liberty and the public
welfare."[94]
For this eastern expedition he had already prepared. In May, 1797, he
had suggested the seizure of Malta from the Knights of St. John; and
when, on September 27th, the Directory gave its assent, he sent
thither a French commissioner, Poussielgue, on a "commercial mission,"
to inspect those ports, and also, doubtless, to undermine the
discipline of the Knights. Now that the British had retired from
Corsica, and France disposed of the maritime resources of Northern
Italy, Spain, and Holland, it seemed quite practicable to close the
Mediterranean to those "intriguing and enterprising islanders," to
hold them at bay in their dull northern seas, to exhaust them by
ruinous preparations against expected descents on their southern
coasts, on Ireland, and even on Scotland, while Bonaparte's eastern
conquests dried up the sources of their wealth in the Orient: "Let us
concentrate all our activity on our navy and destroy England. That
done, Europe is at our feet."[95]
But he encountered opposition from the Directory. They still clung to
their plan of revolutionizing Italy; and only by playing on their fear
of the army could he bring these civilians to assent to the
expatriation of 35,000 troops and their best generals. On La
Réveillière-Lépeaux the young commander worked with a skill that
veiled the choicest irony. This Director was the high-priest of a
newly-invented cult, termed _Théo-philanthropie_, into the dull embers
of which he was still earnestly blowing. To this would-be prophet
Bonaparte now suggested that the eastern conquests would furnish a
splendid field for the spread of the new faith; and La Réveillière was
forthwith converted from his scheme of revolutionizing Europe to the
grander sphere of moral proselytism opened out to him in the East by
the very chief who, on landing in Egypt, forthwith professed the
Moslem creed.
After gaining the doubtful assent of the Directory, Bonaparte had to
face urgent financial difficulties. The dearth of money was, however,
met by two opportune interventions. The first of these was in the
affairs of Rome. The disorders of the preceding year in that city had
culminated at Christmas in a riot in which General Duphot had been
assassinated; this outrage furnished the pretext desired by the
Directory for revolutionizing Central Italy. Berthier was at once
ordered to lead French troops against the Eternal City. He entered
without resistance (February 15th, 1798), declared the civil authority
of the Pope at an end, and proclaimed the _restoration_ of the Roman
Republic. The practical side of the liberating policy was soon
revealed. A second time the treasures of Rome, both artistic and
financial, were rifled; and, as Lucien Bonaparte caustically remarked
in his "Memoirs," the chief duty of the newly-appointed consuls and
quæstors was to superintend the packing up of pictures and statues
designed for Paris. Berthier not only laid the basis of a large
private fortune, but showed his sense of the object of the expedition
by sending large sums for the equipment of the armada at Toulon. "In
sending me to Rome," wrote Berthier to Bonaparte, "you appoint me
treasurer to the expedition against England. I will try to fill the
exchequer."
The intervention of the Directory in the affairs of Switzerland was
equally lucrative. The inhabitants of the district of Vaud, in their
struggles against the oppressive rule of the Bernese oligarchy, had
offered to the French Government the excuse for interference: and a
force invading that land, overpowered the levies of the central
cantons.[96] The imposition of a centralized form of government
modelled on that of France, the wresting of Geneva from this ancient
confederation, and its incorporation with France, were not the only
evils suffered by Switzerland. Despite the proclamation of General
Brune that the French came as friends to the descendants of William
Tell, and would respect their independence and their property, French
commissioners proceeded to rifle the treasuries of Berne, Zürich,
Solothurn, Fribourg, and Lucerne of sums which amounted in all to
eight and a half million francs; fifteen millions were extorted in
forced contributions and plunder, besides 130 cannon and 60,000
muskets which also became the spoils of the liberators.[97] The
destination of part of the treasure was already fixed; on April 13th
Bonaparte wrote an urgent letter to General Lannes, directing him to
expedite the transit of the booty to Toulon, where three million
francs were forthwith expended on the completion of the armada.
This letter, and also the testimony of Madame de Staël, Barras,
Bourrienne, and Mallet du Pan, show that he must have been a party to
this interference in Swiss affairs, which marks a debasement, not only
of Bonaparte's character, but of that of the French army and people.
It drew from Coleridge, who previously had seen in the Revolution the
dawn of a nobler era, an indignant protest against the prostitution of
the ideas of 1789:
"Oh France that mockest Heaven, adulterous, blind,
Are these thy boasts, champion of human kind?
To mix with Kings in the low lust of sway,
Yell in the hunt and join the murderous prey? ...
The sensual and the dark rebel in vain
Slaves by their own compulsion. In mad game
They burst their manacles: but wear the name
Of Freedom, graven on a heavier chain."
The occupation by French troops of the great central bastion of the
European system seemed a challenge, not only to idealists, but to
German potentates. It nearly precipitated a rupture with Vienna, where
the French tricolour had recently been torn down by an angry crowd.
But Bonaparte did his utmost to prevent a renewal of war that would
blight his eastern prospects; and he succeeded. One last trouble
remained. At his final visit to the Directory, when crossed about some
detail, he passionately threw up his command. Thereupon Rewbell, noted
for his incisive speech, drew up the form of resignation, and
presenting it to Bonaparte, firmly said, "Sign, citizen general." The
general did not sign, but retired from the meeting apparently
crestfallen, but really meditating a _coup d'état_. This last
statement rests on the evidence of Mathieu Dumas, who heard it
through General Desaix, a close friend of Bonaparte; and it is clear
from the narratives of Bourrienne, Barras, and Madame Junot that,
during his last days in Paris, the general was moody, preoccupied, and
fearful of being poisoned.
At last the time of preparation and suspense was at an end. The aims
of the expedition as officially defined by a secret decree on April
12th included the capture of Egypt and the exclusion of the English
from "all their possessions in the East to which the general can
come"; Bonaparte was also to have the isthmus of Suez cut through; to
"assure the _free and exclusive_ possession of the Red Sea to the
French Republic"; to improve the condition of the natives of Egypt,
and to cultivate good relations with the Grand Signior. Another secret
decree empowered Bonaparte to seize Malta. To these schemes he added
another of truly colossal dimensions. After conquering the East, he
would rouse the Greeks and other Christians of the East, overthrow the
Turks, seize Constantinople, and "take Europe in the rear."
Generous support was accorded to the _savants_ who were desirous of
exploring the artistic and literary treasures of Egypt and
Mesopotamia. It has been affirmed by the biographer of Monge that the
enthusiasm of this celebrated physicist first awakened Bonaparte's
desire for the eastern expedition; but this seems to have been
aroused earlier by Volney, who saw a good deal of Bonaparte in 1791.
In truth, the desire to wrest the secrets of learning from the
mysterious East seems always to have spurred on his keenly inquisitive
nature. During the winter months of 1797-8 he attended the chemical
lectures of the renowned Berthollet; and it was no perfunctory choice
which selected him for the place in the famous institute left vacant
by the exile of Carnot. The manner in which he now signed his orders
and proclamations--Member of the Institute, General in Chief of the
Army of the East--showed his determination to banish from the life of
France that affectation of boorish ignorance by which the Terrorists
had rendered themselves uniquely odious.
After long delays, caused by contrary winds, the armada set sail from
Toulon. Along with the convoys from Marseilles, Genoa, and Civita
Vecchia, it finally reached the grand total of 13 ships of the line, 7
frigates, several gunboats, and nearly 300 transports of various
sizes, conveying 35,000 troops. Admiral Brueys was the admiral, but
acting under Bonaparte. Of the generals whom the commander-in-chief
took with him, the highest in command were the divisional generals
Kléber, Desaix, Bon, Menou, Reynier, for the infantry: under them
served 14 generals, a few of whom, as Marmont, were to achieve a wider
fame. The cavalry was commanded by the stalwart mulatto, General
Alexandre Dumas, under whom served Leclerc, the husband of Pauline
Bonaparte, along with two men destined to world-wide renown, Murat and
Davoust. The artillery was commanded by Dommartin, the engineers by
Caffarelli: and the heroic Lannes was quarter-master general.
The armada appeared off Malta without meeting with any incident. This
island was held by the Knights of St. John, the last of those
companies of Christian warriors who had once waged war on the infidels
in Palestine. Their courage had evaporated in luxurious ease, and
their discipline was a prey to intestine schisms and to the intrigues
carried on with the French Knights of the Order. A French fleet had
appeared off Valetta in the month of March in the hope of effecting a
surprise; but the admiral, Brueys, judging the effort too hazardous,
sent an awkward explanation, which only served to throw the knights
into the arms of Russia. One of the chivalrous dreams of the Czar Paul
was that of spreading his influence in the Mediterranean by a treaty
with this Order. It gratified his crusading ardour and promised to
Russia a naval base for the partition of Turkey which was then being
discussed with Austria: to secure the control of the island, Russia
was about to expend 400,000 roubles, when Bonaparte anticipated
Muscovite designs by a prompt seizure.[98] An excuse was easily found
for a rupture with the Order: some companies of troops were
disembarked, and hostilities commenced.
Secure within their mighty walls, the knights might have held the
intruders at bay, had they not been divided by internal disputes: the
French knights refused to fight against their countrymen; and a revolt
of the native Maltese, long restless under the yoke of the Order, now
helped to bring the Grand Master to a surrender. The evidence of the
English consul, Mr. Williams, seems to show that the discontent of the
natives was even more potent than the influence of French gold in
bringing about this result.[99] At any rate, one of the strongest
places in Europe admitted a French garrison, after so tame a defence
that General Caffarelli, on viewing the fortifications, remarked to
Bonaparte: "Upon my word, general, it is lucky there was some one in
the town to open the gates to us."
During his stay of seven days at Malta, Bonaparte revealed the vigour
of those organizing powers for which the half of Europe was soon to
present all too small an arena. He abolished the Order, pensioning off
those French knights who had been serviceable: he abolished the
religious houses and confiscated their domains to the service of the
new government: he established a governmental commission acting under
a military governor: he continued provisionally the existing taxes,
and provided for the imposition of customs, excise, and octroi dues:
he prepared the way for the improvement of the streets, the erection
of fountains, the reorganization of the hospitals and the post
office. To the university he gave special attention, rearranging the
curriculum on the model of the more advanced _écoles centrales_ of
France, but inclining the studies severely to the exact sciences and
the useful arts. On all sides he left the imprint of his practical
mind, that viewed life as a game at chess, whence bishops and knights
were carefully banished, and wherein nothing was left but the heavy
pieces and subservient pawns.
After dragging Malta out of its mediaeval calm and plunging it into
the full swirl of modern progress, Bonaparte set sail for Egypt. His
exchequer was the richer by all the gold and silver, whether in
bullion or in vessels, discoverable in the treasury of Malta or in the
Church of St. John. Fortunately, the silver gates of this church had
been coloured over, and thus escaped the fate of the other
treasures.[100] On the voyage to Alexandria he studied the library of
books which he had requested Bourrienne to purchase for him. The
composition of this library is of interest as showing the strong trend
of his thoughts towards history, though at a later date he was careful
to limit its study in the university and schools which he founded. He
had with him 125 volumes of historical works, among which the
translations of Thucydides, Plutarch, Tacitus, and Livy represented
the life of the ancient world, while in modern life he concentrated
his attention chiefly on the manners and institutions of peoples and
the memoirs of great generals--as Turenne, Condé, Luxembourg, Saxe,
Marlborough, Eugène, and Charles XII. Of the poets he selected the
so-called Ossian, Tasso, Ariosto, Homer, Virgil, and the masterpieces
of the French theatre; but he especially affected the turgid and
declamatory style of Ossian. In romance, English literature was
strongly represented by forty volumes of novels, of course in
translations. Besides a few works on arts and sciences, he also had
with him twelve volumes of "Barclay's Geography," and three volumes of
"Cook's Voyages," which show that his thoughts extended to the
antipodes; and under the heading of Politics he included the Bible,
the Koran, the Vedas, a Mythology, and Montesquieu's "Esprit des
Lois"! The composition and classification of this library are equally
suggestive. Bonaparte carefully searched out the weak places of the
organism which he was about to attack--in the present campaign, Egypt
and the British Empire. The climate and natural products, the genius
of its writers and the spirit of its religion--nothing came amiss to
his voracious intellect, which assimilated the most diverse materials
and pressed them all into his service. Greek mythology provided
allusions for the adornment of his proclamations, the Koran would
dictate his behaviour towards the Moslems, and the Bible was to be his
guide-book concerning the Druses and Armenians. All three were
therefore grouped together under the head of Politics.
And this, on the whole, fairly well represents his mental attitude
towards religion: at least, it was his work-a-day attitude. There were
moments, it is true, when an overpowering sense of the majesty of the
universe lifted his whole being far above this petty opportunism: and
in those moments, which, in regard to the declaration of character,
may surely be held to counterbalance whole months spent in tactical
shifts and diplomatic wiles, he was capable of soaring to heights of
imaginative reverence. Such an episode, lighting up for us the
recesses of his mind, occurred during his voyage to Egypt. The
_savants_ on board his ship, "L'Orient," were discussing one of those
questions which Bonaparte often propounded, in order that, as arbiter
in this contest of wits, he might gauge their mental powers. Mental
dexterity, rather than the Socratic pursuit after truth, was the aim
of their dialectic; but on one occasion, when religion was being
discussed, Bonaparte sounded a deeper note: looking up into the
midnight vault of sky, he said to the philosophizing atheists: "Very
ingenious, sirs, but who made all that?" As a retort to the
tongue-fencers, what could be better? The appeal away from words to
the star-studded canopy was irresistible: it affords a signal proof of
what Carlyle has finely called his "instinct for nature" and his
"ineradicable feeling for reality." This probably was the true man,
lying deep under his Moslem shifts and Concordat bargainings.
That there was a tinge of superstition in Bonaparte's nature, such as
usually appears in gifted scions of a coast-dwelling family, cannot be
denied;[101] but his usual attitude towards religion was that of the
political mechanician, not of the devotee, and even while professing
the forms of fatalistic belief, he really subordinated them to his own
designs. To this profound calculation of the credulity of mankind we
may probably refer his allusions to his star. The present writer
regards it as almost certain that his star was invoked in order to
dazzle the vulgar herd. Indeed, if we may trust Miot de Melito, the
First Consul once confessed as much to a circle of friends. "Cæsar,"
he said, "was right to cite his good fortune and to appear to believe
in it. That is a means of acting on the imagination of others without
offending anyone's self-love." A strange admission this; what
boundless self-confidence it implies that he should have admitted the
trickery. The mere acknowledgment of it is a proof that he felt
himself so far above the plane of ordinary mortals that, despite the
disclosure, he himself would continue to be his own star. For the
rest, is it credible that this analyzing genius could ever have
seriously adopted the astrologer's creed? Is there anything in his
early note-books or later correspondence which warrants such a belief?
Do not all his references to his star occur in proclamations and
addresses intended for popular consumption?
Certainly Bonaparte's good fortune was conspicuous all through these
eastern adventures, and never more so than when he escaped the pursuit
of Nelson. The English admiral had divined his aim. Setting all sail,
he came almost within sight of the French force near Crete, and he
reached Alexandria barely two days before his foes hove in sight.
Finding no hostile force there, he doubled back on his course and
scoured the seas between Crete, Sicily, and the Morca, until news
received from a Turkish official again sent him eastwards. On such
trifles does the fate of empires sometimes depend.
Meanwhile events were crowding thick and fast upon Bonaparte. To free
himself from the terrible risks which had menaced his force off the
Egyptian coast, he landed his troops, 35,000 strong, with all possible
expedition at Marabout near Alexandria, and, directing his columns of
attack on the walls of that city, captured it by a rush (July 2nd).
For this seizure of neutral territory he offered no excuse other than
that the Beys, who were the real rulers of Egypt, had favoured English
commerce and were guilty of some outrages on French merchants. He
strove, however, to induce the Sultan of Turkey to believe that the
French invasion of Egypt was a friendly act, as it would overthrow the
power of the Mamelukes, who had reduced Turkish authority to a mere
shadow. This was the argument which he addressed to the Turkish
officials, but it proved to be too subtle even for the oriental mind
fully to appreciate. Bonaparte's chief concern was to win over the
subject population, which consisted of diverse races. At the surface
were the Mamelukes, a powerful military order, possessing a
magnificent cavalry, governed by two Beys, and scarcely recognizing
the vague suzerainty claimed by the Porte. The rivalries of the Beys,
Murad and Ibrahim, produced a fertile crop of discords in this
governing caste, and their feuds exposed the subject races, both Arabs
and Copts, to constant forays and exactions. It seemed possible,
therefore, to arouse them against the dominant caste, provided that
the Mohammedan scruples of the whole population were carefully
respected. To this end, the commander cautioned his troops to act
towards the Moslems as towards "Jews and Italians," and to respect
their muftis and imams as much as "rabbis and bishops." He also
proclaimed to the Egyptians his determination, while overthrowing
Mameluke tyranny, to respect the Moslem faith: "Have we not destroyed
the Pope, who bade men wage war on Moslems? Have we not destroyed the
Knights of Malta, because those fools believed it to be God's will to
war against Moslems?" The French soldiers were vastly amused by the
humour of these proceedings, and the liberated people fully
appreciated the menaces with which Bonaparte's proclamation closed,
backed up as these were by irresistible force.[102]
After arranging affairs at Alexandria, where the gallant Kléber was
left in command, Bonaparte ordered an advance into the interior.
Never, perhaps, did he show the value of swift offensive action more
decisively than in this prompt march on Damanhour across the desert.
The other route by way of Rosetta would have been easier; but, as it
was longer, he rejected it, and told off General Menou to capture that
city and support a flotilla of boats which was to ascend the Nile and
meet the army on its march to Cairo. On July 4th the first division of
the main force set forth by night into the desert south of Alexandria.
All was new and terrible; and, when the rays of the sun smote on their
weary backs, the murmurings of the troops grew loud. This, then, was
the land "more fertile than Lombardy," which was the goal of their
wanderings. "See, there are the six acres of land which you are
promised," exclaimed a waggish soldier to his comrade as they first
gazed from ship-board on the desert east of Alexandria; and all the
sense of discipline failed to keep this and other gibes from the ears
of staff officers even before they reached that city. Far worse was
their position now in the shifting sand of the desert, beset by
hovering Bedouins, stung by scorpions, and afflicted by intolerable
thirst. The Arabs had filled the scanty wells with stones, and only
after long toil could the sappers reach the precious fluid beneath.
Then the troops rushed and fought for the privilege of drinking a few
drops of muddy liquor. Thus they struggled on, the succeeding
divisions faring worst of all. Berthier, chief of the staff, relates
that a glass of water sold for its weight in gold. Even brave officers
abandoned themselves to transports of rage and despair which left them
completely prostrate.[103]
But Bonaparte flinched not. His stern composure offered the best
rebuke to such childish sallies; and when out of a murmuring group
there came the bold remark, "Well, General, are you going to take us
to India thus," he abashed the speaker and his comrades by the quick
retort, "No, I would not undertake that with such soldiers as you."
French honour, touched to the quick, reasserted itself even above the
torments of thirst; and the troops themselves, when they tardily
reached the Nile and slaked their thirst in its waters, recognized the
pre-eminence of his will and his profound confidence in their
endurance. French gaiety had not been wholly eclipsed even by the
miseries of the desert march. To cheer their drooping spirits the
commander had sent some of the staunchest generals along the line of
march. Among them was the gifted Caffarelli, who had lost a leg in the
Rhenish campaign: his reassuring words called forth the inimitable
retort from the ranks: "Ah! he don't care, not he: he has one leg in
France." Scarcely less witty was the soldier's description of the
prowling Bedouins, who cut off stragglers and plunderers, as "The
mounted highway police."
After brushing aside a charge of 800 Mamelukes at Chebreiss, the army
made its way up the banks of the Nile to Embabeh, opposite Cairo.
There the Mamelukes, led by the fighting Bey, Murad, had their
fortified camp; and there that superb cavalry prepared to overwhelm
the invaders in a whirlwind rush of horse (July 21st, 1798). The
occasion and the surroundings were such as to inspire both sides with
deperate resolution. It was the first fierce shock on land of eastern
chivalry and western enterprise since the days of St. Louis; and the
ardour of the republicans was scarcely less than that which had
kindled the soldiers of the cross. Beside the two armies rolled the
mysterious Nile; beyond glittered the slender minarets of Cairo; and
on the south there loomed the massy Pyramids. To the forty centuries
that had rolled over them, Bonaparte now appealed, in one of those
imaginative touches which ever brace the French nature to the utmost
tension of daring and endurance. Thus they advanced in close formation
towards the intrenched camp of the Mamelukes. The divisions on the
left at once rushed at its earthworks, silenced its feeble artillery,
and slaughtered the fellahin inside.
But the other divisions, now ranged in squares, while gazing at this
exploit, were assailed by the Mamelukes. From out the haze of the
mirage, or from behind the ridges of sand and the scrub of the
water-melon plants that dotted the plain, some 10,000 of these superb
horsemen suddenly appeared and rushed at the squares commanded by
Desaix and Reynier. Their richly caparisoned chargers, their waving
plumes, their wild battle-cries, and their marvellous skill with
carbine and sword, lent picturesqueness and terror to the charge.
Musketry and grapeshot mowed down their front coursers in ghastly
swathes; but the living mass swept on, wellnigh overwhelming the
fronts of the squares, and then, swerving aside, poured through the
deadly funnel between. Decimated here also by the steady fire of the
French files, and by the discharges of the rear face, they fell away
exhausted, leaving heaps of dead and dying on the fronts of the
squares, and in their very midst a score of their choicest cavaliers,
whose bravery and horsemanship had carried them to certain death
amidst the bayonets. The French now assumed the offensive, and
Desaix's division, threatening to cut off the retreat of Murad's
horsemen, led that wary chief to draw off his shattered squadrons;
others sought, though with terrible losses, to escape across the Nile
to Ibrahim's following. That chief had taken no share in the fight,
and now made off towards Syria. Such was the battle of the Pyramids,
which gained a colony at the cost of some thirty killed and about ten
times as many wounded: of the killed about twenty fell victims to the
cross fire of the two squares.[104]
After halting for a fortnight at Cairo to recruit his weary troops and
to arrange the affairs of his conquest, Bonaparte marched eastwards in
pursuit of Ibrahim and drove him into Syria, while Desaix waged an
arduous but successful campaign against Murad in Upper Egypt. But the
victors were soon to learn the uselessness of
merely military triumphs in Egypt. As Bonaparte returned to complete
the organization of the new colony, he heard that Nelson had destroyed
his fleet.
On July 3rd, before setting out from Alexandria, the French commander
gave an order to his admiral, though it must be added that its
authenticity is doubtful:
"The admiral will to-morrow acquaint the commander-in-chief by a
report whether the squadron can enter the port of Alexandria, or
whether, in Aboukir Roads, bringing its broadside to bear, it can
defend itself against the enemy's superior force; and in case both
these plans should be impracticable, he must sail for Corfu ...
leaving the light ships and the flotilla at Alexandria."
Brueys speedily discovered that the first plan was beset by grave
dangers: the entrance to the harbour of Alexandria, when sounded,
proved to be most difficult for large ships--such was his judgment and
that of Villeneuve and Casabianca--and the exit could be blocked by a
single English battleship. As regards the alternatives of Aboukir or
Corfu, Brueys went on to state: "My firm desire is to be useful to you
in every possible way: and, as I have already said, every post will
suit me well, provided that you placed me there in an active way." By
this rather ambiguous phrase it would seem that he scouted the
alternative of Corfu as consigning him to a degrading inactivity;
while at Aboukir he held that he could be actively useful in
protecting the rear of the army. In that bay he therefore anchored his
largest ships, trusting that the dangers of the approach would screen
him from any sudden attack, but making also special preparations in
case he should be compelled to fight at anchor.[105] His decision was
probably less sound than that of Bonaparte, who, while marching to
Cairo, and again during his sojourn there, ordered him to make for
Corfu or Toulon; for the general saw clearly that the French fleet,
riding in safety in those well-protected roadsteads, would really
dominate the Mediterranean better than in the open expanse of Aboukir.
But these orders did not reach the admiral before the blow fell; and
it is, after all, somewhat ungenerous to censure Brueys for his
decision to remain at Aboukir and risk a fight rather than comply with
the dictates of a prudent but inglorious strategy.
The British admiral, after sweeping the eastern Mediterranean, at last
found the French fleet in Aboukir Bay, about ten miles from the
Rosetta mouth of the Nile. It was anchored under the lee of a shoal
which would have prevented any ordinary admiral from attacking,
especially at sundown. But Nelson, knowing that the head ship of the
French was free to swing at anchor, rightly concluded that there must
be room for British ships to sail between Brueys' stationary line and
the shallows. The British captains thrust five ships between the
French and the shoal, while the others, passing down the enemy's line
on the seaward side, crushed it in detail; and, after a night of
carnage, the light of August 2nd dawned on a scene of destruction
unsurpassed in naval warfare. Two French ships of the line and two
frigates alone escaped: one, the gigantic "Orient," had blown up with
the spoils of Malta on board: the rest, eleven in number, were
captured or burnt.
To Bonaparte this disaster came as a bolt from the blue. Only two days
before, he had written from Cairo to Brueys that all the conduct of
the English made him believe them to be inferior in numbers and fully
satisfied with blockading Malta. Yet, in order to restore the _morale_
of his army, utterly depressed by this disaster, he affected a
confidence which he could no longer feel, and said: "Well! here we
must remain or achieve a grandeur like that of the ancients."[106] He
had recently assured his intimates that after routing the Beys' forces
he would return to France and strike a blow direct at England.
Whatever he may have designed, he was now a prisoner in his conquest.
His men, even some of his highest officers, as Berthier, Bessières,
Lannes, Murat, Dumas, and others, bitterly complained of their
miserable position. But the commander, whose spirits rose with
adversity, took effective means for repressing such discontent. To the
last-named, a powerful mulatto, he exclaimed: "You have held seditious
parleys: take care that I do not perform my duty: your six feet of
stature shall not save you from being shot": and he offered passports
for France to a few of the most discontented and useless officers,
well knowing that after Nelson's victory they could scarcely be used.
Others, again, out-Heroding Herod, suggested that the frigates and
transports at Alexandria should be taken to pieces and conveyed on
camels' backs to Suez, there to be used for the invasion of
India.[107]
The versatility of Bonaparte's genius was never more marked than at
this time of discouragement. While his enemies figured him and his
exhausted troops as vainly seeking to escape from those arid wastes;
while Nelson was landing the French prisoners in order to increase his
embarrassment about food, Bonaparte and his _savants_ were developing
constructive powers of the highest order, which made the army
independent of Europe. It was a vast undertaking. Deprived of most of
their treasure and many of their mechanical appliances by the loss of
the fleet, the _savants_ and engineers had, as it were, to start from
the beginning. Some strove to meet the difficulties of food-supply by
extending the cultivation of corn and rice, or by the construction of
large ovens and bakeries, or of windmills for grinding corn. Others
planted vineyards for the future, or sought to appease the ceaseless
thirst of the soldiery by the manufacture of a kind of native beer.
Foundries and workshops began, though slowly, to supply tools and
machines; the earth was rifled of her treasures, natron was wrought,
saltpetre works were established, and gunpowder was thereby procured
for the army with an energy which recalled the prodigies of activity
of 1793.
With his usual ardour in the cause of learning, Bonaparte several
times a week appeared in the chemical laboratory, or witnessed the
experiments performed by Berthollet and Monge. Desirous of giving
cohesion to the efforts of his _savants_, and of honouring not only
the useful arts but abstruse research, he united these pioneers of
science in a society termed the Institute of Egypt. On August 23rd,
1798, it was installed with much ceremony in the palace of one of the
Beys, Monge being president and Bonaparte vice-president. The general
also enrolled himself in the mathematical section of the institute.
Indeed, he sought by all possible means to aid the labours of the
_savants_, whose dissertations were now heard in the large hall of the
harem that formerly resounded only to the twanging of lutes, weary
jests, and idle laughter. The labours of the _savants_ were not
confined to Cairo and the Delta. As soon as the victories of Desaix
in Upper Egypt opened the middle reaches of the Nile to peaceful
research, the treasures of Memphis were revealed to the astonished
gaze of western learning. Many of the more portable relics were
transferred to Cairo, and thence to Rosetta or Alexandria, in order to
grace the museums of Paris. The _savants_ proposed, but sea-power
disposed, of these treasures. They are now, with few exceptions, in
the British Museum.
Apart from archæology, much was done to extend the bounds of learning.
Astronomy gained much by the observations of General Caffarelli. A
series of measurements was begun for an exact survey of Egypt: the
geologists and engineers examined the course of the Nile, recorded the
progress of alluvial deposits at its mouth or on its banks, and
therefrom calculated the antiquity of divers parts of the Delta. No
part of the great conqueror's career so aptly illustrates the truth of
his noble words to the magistrates of the Ligurian Republic: "The true
conquests, the only conquests which cost no regrets, are those
achieved over ignorance."
Such, in brief outline, is the story of the renascence in Egypt. The
mother-land of science and learning, after a wellnigh barren interval
of 1,100 years since the Arab conquest, was now developed and
illumined by the application of the arts with which in the dim past
she had enriched the life of barbarous Europe. The repayment of this
incalculable debt was due primarily to the enterprise of Bonaparte. It
is one of his many titles to fame and to the homage of posterity. How
poor by the side of this encyclopaedic genius are the gifts even of
his most brilliant foes! At that same time the Archduke Charles of
Austria was vegetating in inglorious ease on his estates. As for
Beaulieu and Würmser, they had subsided into their native obscurity.
Nelson, after his recent triumph, persuading himself that "Bonaparte
had gone to the devil," was bending before the whims of a professional
beauty and the odious despotism of the worst Court in Europe. While
the admiral tarnished his fame on the Syren coast of Naples, his great
opponent bent all the resources of a fertile intellect to retrieve his
position, and even under the gloom of disaster threw a gleam of light
into the dark continent. While his adversaries were merely generals or
admirals, hampered by a stupid education and a narrow nationality,
Bonaparte had eagerly imbibed the new learning of his age and saw its
possible influence on the reorganization of society. He is not merely
a general. Even when he is scattering to the winds the proud chivalry
of the East, and is prescribing to Brueys his safest course of action,
he finds time vastly to expand the horizon of human knowledge.
Nor did he neglect Egyptian politics. He used a native council for
consultation and for the promulgation of his own ideas. Immediately
after his entry into Cairo he appointed nine sheikhs to form a divan,
or council, consulting daily on public order and the food-supplies of
the city. He next assembled a general divan for Egypt, and a smaller
council for each province, and asked their advice concerning the
administration of justice and the collection of taxes.[108] In its use
of oriental terminology, this scheme was undeniably clever; but
neither French, Arabs, nor Turks were deceived as to the real
government, which resided entirely in Bonaparte; and his skill in
reapportioning the imposts had some effect on the prosperity of the
land, enabling it to bear the drain of his constant requisitions. The
welfare of the new colony was also promoted by the foundation of a
mint and of an Egyptian Commercial Company.
His inventive genius was by no means exhausted by these varied toils.
On his journey to Suez he met a camel caravan in the desert, and
noticing the speed of the animals, he determined to form a camel
corps; and in the first month of 1799 the experiment was made with
such success that admission into the ranks of the camelry came to be
viewed as a favour. Each animal carried two men with their arms and
baggage: the uniform was sky-blue with a white turban; and the speed
and precision of their movements enabled them to deal terrible blows,
even at distant tribes of Bedouins, who bent before a genius that
could outwit them even in their own deserts.
The pleasures of his officers and men were also met by the opening of
the Tivoli Gardens; and there, in sight of the Pyramids, the life of
the Palais Royal took root: the glasses clinked, the dice rattled, and
heads reeled to the lascivious movements of the eastern dance; and
Bonaparte himself indulged a passing passion for the wife of one of
his officers, with an openness that brought on him a rebuke from his
stepson, Eugène Beauharnais. But already he had been rendered
desperate by reports of the unfaithfulness of Josephine at Paris; the
news wrung from him this pathetic letter to his brother Joseph--the
death-cry of his long drooping idealism:
"I have much to worry me privately, for the veil is entirely torn
aside. You alone remain to me; your affection is very dear to me:
nothing more remains to make me a misanthrope than to lose her and
see you betray me.... Buy a country seat against my return, either
near Paris or in Burgundy. I need solitude and isolation: grandeur
wearies me: the fount of feeling is dried up: glory itself is
insipid. At twenty-nine years of age I have exhausted everything.
It only remains to me to become a thorough egoist."[109]
Many rumours were circulated as to Bonaparte's public appearance in
oriental costume and his presence at a religious service in a mosque.
It is even stated by Thiers that at one of the chief festivals he
repaired to the great mosque, repeated the prayers like a true Moslem,
crossing his legs and swaying his body to and fro, so that he "edified
the believers by his orthodox piety." But the whole incident, however
attractive scenically and in point of humour, seems to be no better
authenticated than the religious results about which the historian
cherished so hopeful a belief. The truth seems to be that the general
went to the celebration of the birth of the Prophet as an interested
spectator, at the house of the sheik, El Bekri. Some hundred sheikhs
were there present: they swayed their bodies to and fro while the
story of Mahomet's life was recited; and Bonaparte afterwards partook
of an oriental repast. But he never forgot his dignity so far as
publicly to appear in a turban and loose trousers, which he donned
only once for the amusement of his staff.[110] That he endeavoured to
pose as a Moslem is beyond doubt. Witness his endeavour to convince
the imams at Cairo of his desire to conform to their faith. If we may
believe that dubious compilation, "A Voice from St. Helena," he bade
them consult together as to the possibility of admission of men, who
were not circumcised and did not abstain from wine, into the true
fold. As to the latter disability, he stated that the French were poor
cold people, inhabitants of the north, who could not exist without
wine. For a long time the imams demurred to this plea, which involved
greater difficulties than the question of circumcision: but after long
consultations they decided that both objections might be waived in
consideration of a superabundance of good works. The reply was
prompted by an irony no less subtle than that which accompanied the
claim, and neither side was deceived in this contest of wits.
A rude awakening soon came. For some few days there had been rumours
that the division under Desaix which was fighting the Mamelukes in
Upper Egypt had been engulfed in those sandy wastes; and this report
fanned to a flame the latent hostility against the unbelievers. From
many minarets of Cairo a summons to arms took the place of the
customary call to prayer: and on October 21st the French garrison was
so fiercely and suddenly attacked as to leave the issue doubtful.
Discipline and grapeshot finally prevailed, whereupon a repression of
oriental ferocity cowed the spirits of the townsfolk and of the
neighbouring country. Forts were constructed in Cairo and at all the
strategic points along the lower Nile, and Egypt seemed to be
conquered.
Feeling sure now of his hold on the populace, Bonaparte, at the close
of the year, undertook a journey to Suez and the Sinaitic peninsula.
It offered that combination of utility and romance which ever appealed
to him. At Suez he sought to revivify commerce by lightening the
customs' dues, by founding a branch of his Egyptian commercial
company, and by graciously receiving a deputation of the Arabs of Tor
who came to sue for his friendship.[111] Then, journeying on, he
visited the fountains of Moses; but it is not true that (as stated by
Lanfrey) he proceeded to Mount Sinai and signed his name in the
register of the monastery side by side with that of Mahomet. On his
return to the isthmus he is said to have narrowly escaped from the
rising tide of the Red Sea. If we may credit Savary, who was not of
the party, its safety was due to the address of the commander, who, as
darkness fell on the bewildered band, arranged his horsemen in files,
until the higher causeway of the path was again discovered. North of
Suez the traces of the canal dug by Sesostris revealed themselves to
the trained eye of the commander. The observations of his engineers
confirmed his conjecture, but the vast labour of reconstruction
forbade any attempt to construct a maritime canal. On his return to
Cairo he wrote to the Imam of Muscat, assuring him of his friendship
and begging him to forward to Tippoo Sahib a letter offering alliance
and deliverance from "the iron yoke of England," and stating that the
French had arrived on the shores of the Red Sea "with a numerous and
invincible army." The letter was intercepted by a British cruiser; and
the alarm caused by these vast designs only served to spur on our
forces to efforts which cost Tippoo his life and the French most of
their Indian settlements.
* * * * *