THE LANDING IN EGYPT[7]
[Footnote 7: Mahan: Life of Nelson. Jurien de la Graviere:
Guerres Maritimes. Harcourt: Egypte et les Egyptiens.
Gourgaud: Journal. Desvernois: Memoirs, ed. Defourg. (The
editor has enriched his pages from Arab sources.)
Desgenettes: Histoire medicale de L'Armee d'Orient. Ducasse:
Les rois freres de Napoleon. The memoirs of de Remusat,
Belliard, Savary, and Berthier.]
Visions of Oriental Conquest -- The Surrender of Malta -- Nelson
Deceived -- The Mamelukes -- The Skirmishes at Shebreket and the
Pyramids -- The Emptiness of Success -- Plans for Conquering Asia
-- The Battle of the Nile -- Effects on European Policies.
The departure of the Egyptian expedition from Toulon, on May
nineteenth, 1798, was thus far the greatest occasion of Bonaparte's
life. Josephine, apparently no longer the light Creole, but seemingly
transformed by the successes and responsibilities of the last two
years into a fond and outwardly judicious helpmate, bade him a tender
farewell. There had been checks in his brilliant career, but so far
they had been temporary; as for the present hour, he believed, as he
afterward told Mme. de Remusat, that it might be his last in France.
Mental fabrics of an Oriental splendor, visions of an empire
bestriding three continents, dreams of potentates and powers far
eclipsing those of western Europe--license like this intoxicates the
imagination and disorders common minds. Such plans seem fantastic to
the multitude, but what else than their realization is in sober
reality the British empire of to-day? The rank and file of Bonaparte's
army might not see a reward for this hazardous expedition in
sentimental or distant returns, but they understood perfectly the
words of a harangue delivered at Toulon before embarking, which,
besides being a reminder of the plunder they had taken in Italy,
contained the blunt promise that this time every man should return
with money enough to buy seven acres of land. Sailors and soldiers
alike were thrilled by the call to establish liberty on the plains of
the ocean, as they had on the plains of Lombardy. They even dimly
apprehended the meaning of a proclamation, issued at sea, in which
their destination was finally revealed, and certain success was
foretold, if they would respect the women, the goods, and the faith of
the Mohammedans.
Yes; it was a sanguine expedition which, relying on an apparent
relaxation of England's vigilance, set sail for Malta. The
geographical situation of that island makes it in proper hands the
citadel of the Mediterranean, the bulwark of Christendom against
heathendom. But the military monks to whom it had been intrusted were
grown corrupt and licentious. The Maltese loathed their masters.
French agents had already been among them, winning thousands of the
people and some of the French knights; and such was the internal
disorder at the approach of Bonaparte that after the merest show of
resistance to his demands, the gates of an almost impregnable fortress
were dishonorably opened to the French republic without a blow. The
order, neither monastic nor military in any true sense, was virtually
annihilated by the sequestration of its goods, though nominally it
survived as vassal to the crown of Naples under the protection of
Russia. The spoils of the treasury and the Church were quickly seized,
a goodly treasure, and added to the French war chest. Waiting only to
garrison his easy conquest, and to establish a French administration,
Bonaparte hastened on, and the entire fleet in good condition anchored
off Alexandria on June thirtieth. With a few casualties the troops
were landed.
News of the great preparations at Toulon had finally convinced the
English admiralty that their supremacy in the Mediterranean was
endangered. Nelson, with a small squadron, sailed in due time from
Cadiz, and arrived off the French coast before the departure of
Bonaparte's expedition. Driven from his position by a storm, he took
refuge in the lee of Sardinia, where he remained until reinforced.
Such was the overcharge of the French ships in troops and stores that
even with a few active vessels Nelson could have crippled, if not
entirely disabled, his enemy's great armament. With a new force which
in the mean time he had received, he was prepared to dispute their
passage wherever found, and his orders were stringent to destroy the
enemy's fleet at any hazard. Returning to Toulon only to find that the
French had escaped him, he sailed thence to Sicily, and perceiving at
last the destination of the foe to be Egypt, passed swiftly to the
south of Crete, and arrived off Alexandria to be disappointed in
finding its roadstead empty. Supposing that he had been deceived, he
hastened away toward Syria. In the desire to find his foe, he had
passed him. Bonaparte, learning off Crete that he was pursued, sailed
northward through the Candian Sea, while Nelson took the direct line
on the other side. So it happened that thus far the good fortune of
the invaders had not deserted them.
[Illustration: Map of Egypt.]
The denizens of the great Egyptian towns were not a warlike people;
the great mass of the population, the down-trodden agricultural
workers, or fellaheen, were even less so. Their strongest weapon was
that Oriental stolidity which, like a fortress of mud, closes over
hostile missiles without crumbling under their blows. Accordingly,
the city of Alexandria, after a feeble and ineffectual resistance,
yielded. Bonaparte, ever conciliatory, issued a proclamation to the
people, which was translated by one of his savants into the
vernacular. It was clear and concise, but had little influence on the
populace. The condition of Egypt at the time seeks in vain a parallel
in history. Saladin had followed a tradition of Eastern despotism in
the formation of a body-guard destitute of all ties except those which
bound them to his person. Purchased as infants in Georgia or
Circassia, its members were, like the janizaries at Constantinople,
trained to arms as an exclusive profession, and, mounted on the finest
steeds of Arabia, they became the elite of his army. In time this
force of acute and powerful men transformed itself into a warrior
caste, was divided into twenty-four companies, and obeyed no authority
except that of its captains. These were known in Oriental phrase as
Beys, the subordinates were themselves what we call the Mamelukes; the
whole, in number about eight thousand, formed a kind of chivalry
which, though reduced to nominal submission in 1517, still governed
the land with despotic power, and bade defiance to the Sultan's shaky
authority. The first portion of Bonaparte's proclamation sketched the
evils of Mameluke tyranny, the second called on the populace to aid
their liberators. "We, too, are true Mussulmans. Is it not we who have
destroyed the Pope that said war must be made on the Mussulmans? Is it
not we who have destroyed the Knights of Malta because those insensate
chevaliers believed God wanted them to make war on the Mussulmans?
Thrice happy they who are on our side! They shall prosper in their
fortune and in their place. Happy those who are neutral! They shall
have time to understand us, and shall array themselves with us. But
woe, thrice woe, to those who shall take up arms for the Mamelukes and
fight against us! There shall be no hope left for them; they shall
perish." The contrast between this language and that which its author
had used in Italy concerning the Church shows how much sincerity there
was in either case. Here as there he used religion as a political
expedient.
The capture of Alexandria was a bitter disillusionment to the French
soldiery, for the once rich and famous city had shrunk into poverty
and insignificance. There was no booty and the squalor was repellent.
With this unpropitious start their struggle on to Cairo was an awful
trial. The sky was brass, their feet sank in the dry, hot soil, and
mounted skirmishers tormented them from behind the low hillocks on
each side of their line of march. No enemy more redoubtable than a few
half-naked fellaheen really disputed their progress; but even when, on
July tenth, they came within sight of the Nile and their sufferings
were about to be mitigated, it was in vain that their general sought
to silence their bitter cries of disheartened anger. Three days later
they were attacked at Shebreket by the outposts of the Mamelukes,
under Murad, chief Bey of the force. The irregular and individual
attacks of the well-armed and gorgeously equipped cavalry broke
harmlessly against the serried ranks of the French veterans, and the
desultory firing of the Turkish artillery was quickly silenced; the
rusty cannon, though aimed point-blank at the gunboat flotilla which
was ascending the river, did little or no damage. The enemy withdrew,
and concentrated their forces for a final stand at Om Dinar before
Cairo, behind the lines of Embabeh. On July twenty-first Bonaparte
ordered his troops in squares six men deep, as before. They were to
advance so as to cut off the enemy's retreat southward, and were to
halt only to receive a charge. "Soldiers," cried the general, "forty
centuries look down upon you from the summit of the Pyramids!" The
resistance was scarcely worthy of the name. Five thousand horsemen and
as many fellaheen were behind the weak ramparts. Murad and his men
dashed forward with desperate courage against the phalanx of Desaix,
but only to rebound from its iron sides against the equally impassive
lines of Reynier and Dugua. Ibrahim, the other Mameluke leader, fled
eastward across the river, and Murad retreated toward the south; the
undisciplined infantry scattered and ran like frightened sheep. Many
of the Mamelukes were drowned in the Nile. It was their custom to
carry their wealth on their persons, and the French soldiers, bending
their bayonets into grappling-hooks, spent much time in fishing for
the corpses. It was estimated that each body thus recovered would
afford about ten thousand francs to the lucky finder.
The so-called battle of the Pyramids will ever have a fictitious and
romantic fame, largely due, of course, to the quality of Bonaparte's
wonderful proclamations, which long after he admitted to Gourgaud were
"un peu charlatan." Its results, however, were temporarily very
important. Cairo was delivered by it into French hands, and the
possession of Egypt's capital seemed of the first importance both to
the soldiers and to their friends at home. The idea that East and West
were fighting under the shadow of those monuments which, now hoary
with age, were among the first achievements of civilized human
intelligence, thrilled the "great nation," and added new luster to
Bonaparte's laurels in the minds of a people wont to revel in great
conceptions. Yet but thirty French soldiers were killed, and only one
hundred and twenty were wounded. It was a skirmish; much more
decisive than that at Shebreket, to be sure, and somewhat more bloody,
but only a skirmish. Both were represented to the Directory as great
battles, the five Mamelukes killed in the first being magnified to
three hundred. The camp at Embabeh furnished rich spoils to the
victorious leaders, but the fabled wealth of Cairo, destined for the
soldiery, proved to be like apples of Sodom. The army had been angry
and disheartened; deprived of its accustomed booty, it became sullen
and mutinous. There was no news from home. Oriental apathy long defied
even Bonaparte's administrative powers. Egypt was subdued, but the
situation of the general and of his troops was apparently desperate.
Long afterwards the Emperor said to Gourgaud that, horrible as was the
confession, he believed it fortunate that the French fleet was
destroyed at Aboukir, "otherwise the army would have reembarked." If
he had commanded Mamelukes, he would have been master of the East, he
added.
Nothing daunted by what would have broken a feebler spirit, the
disillusioned conqueror turned to the conquest of another world.
Africa had failed him, but Asia was near, and a revolution might be
effected there. The maltreatment of French merchants in Syria had been
one of the Directory's original grounds of complaint; it must serve
another turn, and if the Sultan were sufficiently humbled, he might be
compelled to an alliance against the menacing league of Russia and
Austria. The need for carrying out this plan was further confirmed by
the awful news which soon came from Alexandria. Nelson, having scoured
in vain the eastern shores of the Mediterranean, had returned first to
Sicily, then to Greece, and finally to Egypt. Bonaparte had left
instructions for Admiral Brueys to work the fleet into the old port of
the Ptolemies; but if the anchorage or water-draft should prove
insufficient, he was to sail for Corfu. It was believed that with his
splendid new eighty-gun ships, and unhampered by the transports, he
was more than a match for the inferior squadron of Nelson, whose
largest vessels had but seventy-four guns. But Brueys, finding it
impossible to enter the harbor with his warships, and fearing to sail
for Corfu without the provisions promised by the general, disobeyed
his orders, and took up what he believed to be an impregnable position
near by in the bay of Aboukir, his line being parallel with the
shoaling beach, and his van protected by insufficient batteries on
Aboukir island to the northwest. The strongest ships in the center and
van were those stationed seaward.
Nelson descried the anchored fleet on August first, about midday;
before evening his daring scheme was formed and carried out. The
English ships advanced in two divisions, one attacking the enemy's
center and rear from the sea side, while the other, performing by
skilful steering what Brueys had believed an impossible feat, entered
the shoal waters, and, cutting off the shore defense, simultaneously
attacked on that side. The French van, like the rest of the fleet, was
at anchor, and could not come to the assistance of its sister ships.
Thus entrapped, the French sailors fought with desperate courage, but
they were out-manoeuvered, and the English cross-fire was deadly.
Moreover, with Nelson a new temper had entered the British navy. At
Bastia he had determined the result by his personal daring, for the
men of the _Agamemnon_, when led by him, "minded shot as little as
peas"; at Calvi he had lost an eye in a desperate venture; at Cape St.
Vincent he had boarded two opposing Spanish ships at the head of his
own _Captain's_ crew, with the cry, "Westminster Abbey or victory!"
and now, in the battle of the Nile, his greatest fight, he inspired
the whole fleet with such audacious bravery that to this day his
countrymen sing the proud boast of the ballad-writer, "At the battle
of the Nile, I was there all the while." Though he had as many vessels
as the French, they were of inferior quality and strength; but the
result was never doubtful. The brave Brueys went down in his own
_Orient_ as the dauntless crew shouted, "Long live the Republic!" and
Rear-Admiral Villeneuve barely escaped with two ships of the line and
two frigates. Two other vessels of the latter class had been towed
into the harbor; all the rest were destroyed. From that awful day the
modern maritime ascendancy of England was considered a menace by
continental Europe. France had struck Great Britain deadly blows in
the annihilation of her allies ashore, and was to do so again.
England, however, on her own chosen element, seemed thenceforward
indomitable.
Any plan which Bonaparte may have entertained for the use of fleets to
transport himself or his armies either on the Mediterranean or on the
Atlantic during the expected Continental convulsion had to be
abandoned. As was explained in a despatch from the Directory, which he
did not receive until long after, he must either make Egypt
self-sufficient without aid from France, or march on Constantinople to
intimidate or wheedle the Grand Turk, or invade India, collect all the
elements hostile to British rule, and establish himself there. Any
thought of immediate return to France must be abandoned, however
disposed he might be to pluck his "pear." On the other hand, France
without Bonaparte was a different subject for European consideration,
military or political. The wild schemes of her government for aiding
the Irish rebels or invading British soil were necessarily either
futile in their inception or never tried; the coalition was shaping
itself, and with Bonaparte and Hoche both removed from the scene, the
statesmen and generals of the other great powers were only too ready
to try conclusions with France.