CHAPTER XVI.

RETREAT FROM JAFFA--POISONING OF FIVE HUNDRED SOLDIERS--DIFFERENT

ENGLISH AUTHORITIES THEREON--NAPOLEON’S OWN STORY, ALSO THOSE

OF LAS CASES AND O’MEARA--RETREAT TO CAIRO.

But this retreat became the subject of a dreadful accusation against

Napoleon, which must have hit him hard at the time of his projected

invasion in 1803--aye, quite as hard as the massacre at Jaffa. It

was nothing less than that he poisoned, with opium, 500 of his sick

soldiers, before he left Jaffa. There was a solid foundation for this

fearful charge, as will be shown hereafter. Combe speaks of it thus--

Another great thing Boney now did,

With sick the hospitals were crowded,

He therefore planned, nor planned in vain,

To put the wretches out of pain;

He an apothecary found--

For a physician, since renown’d,

The butchering task with scorn declined,

Th’ apothecary, tho’, was _kind_.

It seems that Romeo met with such a one,

This is a mournful theme to touch upon,

Opium was put in pleasant food,

The wretched victims thought it good;

But, in a few hours, as they say,

About six hundred, breathless lay.

The truth of this has never been accurately established, but I fancy,

at that time, there were very few Englishmen who did not thoroughly

believe it. Sir Robert Wilson wrote: ‘Buonaparte finding that his

hospitals at Jaffa were crowded with sick, sent for a physician,

whose name should be inscribed in letters of gold, but which, from

important reasons, cannot be here inserted; on his arrival, he entered

into a long conversation with him respecting the danger of contagion,

concluding at last with the remark, that something must be done to

remedy the evil, and that the destruction of the sick at present in the

hospital, was the only measure which could be adopted. The physician,

alarmed at the proposal, bold in the confidence of virtue, and the

cause of humanity, remonstrated vehemently, respecting the cruelty, as

well as the atrocity, of such a murder; but, finding that Buonaparte

persevered and menaced, he indignantly left the tent, with this

memorable observation; “Neither my principles, nor the character of my

profession, will allow me to become a murderer; and, General, if such

qualities as you insinuate are necessary to form a great man, I thank

my God that I do not possess them.”

[Illustration: POISONING THE SICK AT JAFFA.]

‘Buonaparte was not to be diverted from his object by moral

considerations; he persevered, and found an apothecary, who (dreading

the weight of power, but who since has made an atonement to his mind,

by unequivocally confessing the fact) consented to become his agent,

and to administer poison to the sick. Opium, at night, was distributed

in gratifying food, the wretched, unsuspecting, victims banqueted, and,

in a few hours, five hundred and eighty soldiers, who had suffered so

much for their country, perished thus miserably by the order of its

idol....

‘If a doubt should still exist as to the veracity of this statement,

let the Members of the Institute at Cairo be asked what passed in

their sitting after the return of Buonaparte from Syria; they will

relate, that the same virtuous physician, who refused to become the

destroyer of those committed to his protection, accused Buonaparte of

high treason, in the full assembly, against the honour of France, her

children, and humanity; that he entered into the full details of the

poisoning of the sick, and the massacre of the garrison, aggravating

these crimes by charging Buonaparte with strangling, previously, at

Rosetta, a number of French and Copts, who were ill of the plague;

thus proving that this disposal of his sick was a premeditated plan,

which he wished to introduce into general practice. In vain Buonaparte

attempted to justify himself; the members sat petrified with terror,

and almost doubted whether the scene passing before their eyes was not

an illusion.’

Dr. Wittman assures his readers that whilst he was in Egypt with the

army, a man was pointed out to them as having been the executioner of

Napoleon’s commands to poison the sick and wounded French soldiers in

the hospitals of Jaffa.

Barre says: ‘Although neither Sir Robert Wilson nor Dr. Wittman mention

the name of the worthy physician who refused with horror, and of the

infamous wretch, who basely consented to become the executioner of the

sick soldiers, it is now well known that the former was the worthy

physician Dr. Desgenettes, and the latter, one Rouyer, an infamous

apothecary, who thus became the murderer of his own countrymen, in

compliance with the wishes of a Corsican assassin.’

In a little periodical, called ‘Ring the Alarum Bell!’ (which only

ran four numbers), published in 1803, is the following, written by

a General Danican: ‘In 1801, I met at a lazaretto in Sicily, with a

number of French Soldiers just come from Alexandria. With one of them

I contracted habits of intimacy during my stay, and who frequently

related to me some curious particulars of the conduct of Buonaparté

in Egypt.... Having been witness to the poisoning scene at Caiffa

he related to me the following anecdote. A grenadier, who had lost

two brothers, was amongst the unfortunate wretches slightly affected

with the pestilential disease. From what he had previously observed

in the hospital, he had become more suspicious than his companions

in distress, and he had scarcely taken the _Corsican physic_, than

he immediately discharged it, made his way out of the hospital, and

escaping the guard, whom he contrived to knock down, he gained the

column under the command of Kleber, at whose feet he threw himself,

and, in the intercession, almost of despair, conjured him to let him

mount one of the camels, describing what he had escaped from, and

venting the most energetic maledictions on the _Poisoner in Chief_. The

poor wretch, in the most piteous manner, assured General Kleber that he

would keep at a distance from the army, so that no one should be in any

danger of catching his disorder, except the camel. Kleber granted his

request; the grenadier was saved and recovered, and was alive when the

English landed under the brave Abercrombie.’

Now let us hear the Emperor’s side of the question, beginning with De

Bourrienne. ‘Orders were given directly to undermine the fortifications

and blow them up; and, on the 27th May, upon the signal being given,

the town was in a moment laid bare. An hour afterwards, the General in

Chief left his tent and repaired to the town, accompanied by Berthier,

some physicians and surgeons, and his usual staff. I was also one of

the party. A long and sad deliberation took place on the question,

which now arose, relative to the men who were incurably ill of the

plague, or were at the point of death. After a discussion of the most

serious and conscientious kind, it was decided to accelerate a few

moments, by a potion, a death which was inevitable, and which otherwise

would be painful and cruel....

‘I cannot say that I saw the potion administered. I should state an

untruth if I did. I cannot name any person concerned in the matter,

without hazarding a misrepresentation. But I well know that the

decision was come to after that deliberation, which was due to so

important a measure; that the order was given, and that the infected

are dead. What! shall that which formed the subject of the whole

conversation of the head quarters, on the day after leaving Jaffa, and

was spoken of without any question of its reality; which was regarded

by us as a dreadful, but unavoidable, misfortune; which was never

mentioned in the army but as a fact, of which there was no doubt,

and only the details of which were inquired after--I appeal to every

honourable man who was present, for the truth of what I state--shall

that, I say, be now stigmatized as a malignant calumny, fabricated to

injure the reputation of a hero, who, were this the only reproach that

might be addressed to him, would go down with little blemish on his

character, to posterity?’

Las Cases is specially wroth with Sir Robert Wilson, but, even he,

cannot successfully whitewash his beloved emperor. His attempted

vindication is too long to be reproduced _in extenso_, but it goes

to prove how widely spread in the army was the belief that the sick

were hurried to their rest at Jaffa. ‘A circumstance, which will not a

little surprise those who have yet to learn how little credit is due to

public report, and which will serve to show the errors that may creep

into history, is that Marshall Bertrand, who was himself with the army

in Egypt, (though certainly in a rank which did not enable him to come

into immediate contact with the General in Chief) firmly believed, up

to the period of his residence at Saint Helena, the story of poison

having been administered to sixty invalids. The report was circulated,

and believed, even in our army; therefore, what answer could be given

to those who triumphantly asserted, “It is a fact, I assure you, I

have it from officers who served in the French army at the time.”

Nevertheless, the whole story is false. I have collected the following

facts from the highest source, from the mouth of Napoleon himself.

‘1st. That the invalids in question who were infected with the plague,

amounted, according to the report made to the General in Chief, only to

_seven_ in number.

‘2nd. That it was not the General in Chief, but a professional man,

who, at the moment of the crisis, proposed the administering of opium.

‘3rd. That opium was not administered to a single individual.

‘4th. That the retreat having been effected slowly, a rear-guard was

left behind in Jaffa for three days.

‘5th. That on the departure of the rear guard, the invalids were all

dead, except one or two, who must have fallen into the hands of the

English.’

But Las Cases, in his zeal, tries to prove too much; for, in a

later passage, he says, that since his return to Paris he has had

opportunities of conversing with those whose situation and profession

naturally rendered them the first actors on the scene, and he finds

‘that no order was given for the administering of opium to the sick,’

and ‘That there was not at the period in question, in the medicine

chest of the army, a single grain of opium for the use of the sick.’ So

he admits that the emperor had the proposition made to him, by a man

who must have known he had not the means to carry it out.

Is Barry O’Meara to be trusted? Let us hear what his testimony is (also

professedly from the emperor’s own lips). ‘“Previously to leaving

Jaffa,” continued Napoleon, “and after the greatest number of the

sick and wounded had been embarked, it was reported to me that there

were some men in the hospital so dangerously ill, as not to be able

to be moved. I ordered, immediately, the chiefs of the medical staff

to consult together upon what was best to be done, and to give me

their opinion on the subject. Accordingly they met, and found there

were seven or eight men so dangerously ill, that they conceived it

impossible to recover, and also that they could not exist twenty-four

or thirty-six hours longer; that, moreover, being afflicted with the

plague, they would spread that complaint amongst all who approached

them. Some of them, who were sensible, perceiving they were about to

be abandoned, demanded with earnest entreaties, to be put to death.

Larrey was of opinion that recovery was impossible, and that those

poor fellows could not exist many hours; but as they might live long

enough to be alive when the Turks entered, and experience the dreadful

torments which they were accustomed to inflict upon their prisoners, he

thought it would be an act of charity to comply with their desires, and

accelerate their end by a few hours. Desgenettes did not approve of

this, and replied, that his profession was to cure the sick, and not to

despatch them.

‘“Larrey came to me immediately afterwards, informed me of the

circumstances, and of what Desgenettes had said; adding, that perhaps

Desgenettes was right. ‘But,’ continued Larrey, ‘those men cannot live

more than a few hours, twenty-four, or thirty-six at most; and, if

you will leave a rear-guard of cavalry to stay and protect them from

advanced parties, it will be sufficient.’ Accordingly I ordered four or

five hundred cavalry to remain behind, and not to quit the place until

all were dead. They did remain, and informed me that all had expired

before they had left the town; but I have heard since, that Sydney

Smith found one or two alive when he entered it. This is the truth of

the business....

‘“You have been amongst the Turks, and know what they are; I ask you

now, to place yourself in the situation of one of those sick men, and

that you were asked which you would prefer, to be left to suffer the

tortures of those miscreants, or to have opium administered to you?”

I replied, “Most undoubtedly I would prefer the latter.” “Certainly,

so would any man,” answered Napoleon; “if my _own son_ (and I believe

I love my son as well as any father does his child) were in a similar

situation with those men, I would advise it to be done; and, if so

situated myself, I would insist upon it, if I had sense enough, and

strength enough to demand it....

‘“If I had thought such a measure, as that of giving opium, necessary,

I would have called a council of war, have stated the necessity of it,

and have published it in the order of the day.” He afterwards goes on

to say that if he had done so, some of his soldiers would have been

sure to have shot him.’

I have gone thus at length into these occurrences at Jaffa, to show

how widely spread was the belief in them, and also to prove that these

scandals were not of British origin. Whatever amount of truth there may

be in them, readers must judge, as I have laid both sides fairly before

them. That there was foundation for them, there can be no doubt--but we

know that a tale does not lose in telling.

The return to Cairo, and the battle of Aboukir, are soon dismissed by

the satirist, and not chronicled by the caricaturist.

English Caricature and Satire on Napoleon I. Volume 1 (of 2) · 第 16 / 37 章