The retreat from before Acre was conducted with equal skill and secrecy, though Buonaparte was compelled to leave behind his heavy cannon, which he either buried or threw into the sea. But, by a rumour which long prevailed in the French army, he was alleged to have taken a far more extraordinary measure of preparation for retreat, by destroying with opium the sick in the hospitals, who could not march along with the army.

This transaction is said to have taken place under the following circumstances. The siege of Acre being raised on the 21st of May, 1799, the French army retreated to Jaffa, where their military hospitals had been established during the siege. Upon the 27th, Buonaparte was under the necessity of continuing his retreat, and in the meantime such of the patients as were convalescent were sent forward on the road to Egypt, under the necessary precautions for their safety. There remained an indefinite number, reaching at the greatest computation to betwixt twenty and thirty, but stated by Buonaparte himself to be only seven, whose condition was desperate. Their disease was the plague, and to carry them onward, seemed to threaten the army with infection; while to leave them behind, was abandoning them to the cruelty of the Turks, by whom all stragglers and prisoners were cruelly murdered, often with protracted torture. It was on this occasion that Buonaparte submitted to Desgenettes, chief of the medical staff, the propriety of ending the victims' misery by a dose of opium. The physician answered, with the heroism belonging to his profession, that his art taught him how to cure men, not to kill them.[411]

The proposal was agreeable to Buonaparte's principles, who advocating the legality of suicide, naturally might believe, that if a man has a right to relieve himself of intolerable evils by depriving himself of life, a general or a monarch may deal forth that measure to his soldiers or subjects, which he would think it advisable to act upon in his own case. It was consistent, also, with his character, rather to look at results than at the measures which were to produce them, and to consider in many cases the end as an excuse for the means. "I would have desired such a relief for myself in the same circumstances," he said to Mr. Warden.[412] To O'Meara he affirmed, "that he would have taken such a step even with respect to his own son."[413] The fallacy of this reasoning is demonstrable; but Buonaparte was saved from acting on it by the resistance of Desgenettes. A rear-guard was left to protect these unhappy men; and the English found some of them alive, who, if Desgenettes had been more compliant, would have been poisoned by their physician. If Buonaparte was guilty of entertaining such a purpose, whether entertained from indifference to human life, or from wild and misdirected ideas of humanity, he met an appropriate punishment in the general belief which long subsisted, that the deed had been actually carried into execution, not in the persons of a few expiring wretches only, but upon several hundred men. Miot says the report was current in the French army,—Sir Robert Wilson found it credited among their officers, when they became the English prisoners,—and Count Las Cases admits it was generally believed by the soldiers. But though popular credulity eagerly receives whatever stories are marked by the horrible and wonderful, history, on the contrary, demands direct evidence, and the existence of powerful motives,[414] for whatever is beyond the ordinary bounds of credibility. The poisoning of five or six hundred men is neither easily managed nor easily concealed; and why should the French leader have had recourse to it, since, like many a retreating general before him, he had only to leave the patients for whom he had not the means of transportation? To poison the sick and helpless, must have destroyed his interest with the remainder of his soldiers; whereas, to have left them to their fate, was a matter too customary, and too much considered as a point of necessity, to create any discontent[415] among those, whose interest, as well as that of their general, consisted in moving on as fast as possible. Again, had such a horrible expedient been had recourse to, it could not have escaped the knowledge of Sir Sidney Smith, who would not have failed to give the horrid fact publicity, were it only to retaliate upon Buonaparte for the scandalous accusations which he had circulated against the English. But though he mentions various complaints which the prisoners made against their general, and though he states himself to have found seven men alive in the hospitals at Jaffa, (being apparently the very persons whom it had been proposed to despatch by opium,) he says not a word of what he would doubtless have told not unwillingly, had there been ground for believing it. Neither, among the numerous persons to whom the truth must be known, has any one come forward since Buonaparte's fall, who could give the least evidence to authenticate the report otherwise than as a rumour, that had sprung out of the unjustifiable proposal which had indeed been made by Buonaparte to Desgenettes, but never acted upon. The same patient and impartial investigation, therefore, which compels us to record that the massacre of the Turkish prisoners in cold blood is fully proved, induces us to declare, that the poisoning of the sick at Jaffa has been affirmed without sufficient evidence.[416]

Buonaparte continued his retreat from Syria, annoyed by the natives, who harassed his march, and retaliating the injuries which he received, by plundering and burning the villages which lay in the course of his march. He left Jaffa on the 28th May, and upon the 14th June re-entered Cairo, with a reputation not so much increased by the victory at Mount Tabor, as diminished and sullied, for the time, by the retreat from Acre.

Lower Egypt, during the absence of Buonaparte, had remained undisturbed, unless by partial insurrections. In one of these an impostor personated that mysterious individual, the Imaum Mohadi, of whom the Orientals believe that he is not dead, but is destined to return and combat Antichrist, before the consummation of all things takes place. This pretender to supernatural power, as well as others who placed themselves at the head of insurrections without such high pretensions, was completely defeated; and the French showed the greatest severity in punishing their followers, and the country which had furnished them with partisans.[417]

In Upper Egypt there had been more obstinate contention. Murad Bey, already mentioned as the ablest chief of the Mamelukes, had maintained himself in that country with a degree of boldness and sagacity, which gave the French much trouble. His fine force of cavalry enabled him to advance or retreat at pleasure, and his perfect acquaintance with the country added much to his advantage.

Desaix, sent against Murad after the battle of the Pyramids, had again defeated the Mameluke chief at Sedinan, where was once more made evident the superiority of European discipline over the valour of the irregular cavalry of the East. Still the destruction of the enterprising bey was far from complete. Reinforced by a body of cavalry, Desaix,[418] in the month of December, 1798, again attacked him, and, after a number of encounters, terminating generally to the advantage of the French, the remaining Mamelukes, with their allies the Arabs, were at length compelled to take shelter in the Desert. Egypt seemed entirely at the command of the French; and Cosseir, a seaport on the Red Sea, had been taken possession of by a flotilla, fitted out to command that gulf.[419]

Three or four weeks after Buonaparte's return from Syria, this flattering state of tranquillity seemed on the point of being disturbed. Murad Bey, re-entering Upper Egypt with his Mamelukes and allies, descended the Nile in two bodies, one occupying each bank of the river. Ibrahim Bey, formerly his partner in the government of Egypt, made a corresponding movement towards the frontiers of Syria, as if to communicate with the right-hand division of Murad's army. La Grange was despatched against the Mamelukes who occupied the right bank, while Murat marched against those who, under the bey himself, were descending the Nile. The French were entertained at the idea of the two Murats, as they termed them, from the similarity of their names, meeting and encountering each other; but the Mameluke Murad retreated before Le Beau Sabreur—the handsome swordsman—of the French army.[420]

Meantime, the cause of this incursion was explained by the appearance of a Turkish fleet off Alexandria, who disembarked eighteen thousand men at Aboukir. This Turkish army possessed themselves of the fort, and proceeded to fortify themselves, expecting the arrival of the Mamelukes, according to the plan which had previously been adjusted for expelling the French from Egypt. This news reached Buonaparte near the Pyramids, to which he had advanced, in order to ensure the destruction of Murad Bey. The arrival of the Turks instantly recalled him to Alexandria, whence he marched to Aboukir to repel the invaders. He joined his army, which had assembled from all points within a short distance of the Turkish camp, and was employed late in the night making preparations for the battle on the next morning. Murat was alone with Buonaparte, when the last suddenly made the oracular declaration, "Go how it will, this battle will decide the fate of the world."

"The fate of this army, at least," replied Murat, who did not comprehend Buonaparte's secret meaning. "But the Turks are without horse, and if ever infantry were charged to the teeth by cavalry, they shall be so charged to-morrow by mine."[421]

Napoleon's meaning, however, referred not to Egypt alone, but to Europe; to which he probably already meditated an unexpected return, which must have been prevented had he not succeeded in obtaining the most complete triumph over the Turks. The leaving his Egyptian army, a dubious step at best, would have been altogether indefensible had there remained an enemy in their front.

Next morning, being the 25th July, Buonaparte commenced an attack on the advanced posts of the enemy, and succeeded in driving them in upon the main body, which was commanded by Seid Mustapha Pacha. In their first attack the French were eminently successful, and pursued the fugitive Turks to their intrenchments, doing great execution. But when the batteries opened upon them from the trenches, while they were at the same time exposed to the fire from the gun-boats in the bay, their impetuosity was checked, and the Turks, sallying out upon them with their muskets slung at their backs, made such havoc among the French with their sabres, poniards, and pistols, as compelled them to retreat in their turn.[422] The advantage was lost by the eagerness of the barbarians to possess themselves of the heads of their fallen enemies, for which they received a certain reward. They threw themselves confusedly out of the intrenchments to obtain these bloody testimonials, and were in considerable disorder, when the French suddenly rallied, charged them with great fury, drove them back into the works, and scaled the ramparts along with them.

Murat had made good his promise of the preceding evening, and had been ever in the front of the battle. When the French had surmounted the intrenchments, he formed a column which reversed the position of the Turks, and pressing them with the bayonet, threw them into utter and inextricable confusion. Fired upon and attacked on every point, they became, instead of an army, a confused rabble, who, in the impetuosity of animal terror, threw themselves by hundreds and by thousands into the sea, which at once seemed covered with turbans.[423] It was no longer a battle, but a massacre; and it was only when wearied with slaughter that quarter was given to about six thousand men; the rest of the Turkish army, originally consisting of eighteen thousand, perished on the field or in the waves. Mustapha Pacha was taken, and carried in triumph before Buonaparte. The haughty Turk had not lost his pride with his fortunes. "I will take care to inform the Sultan," said the victor, meaning to be courteous, "of the courage you displayed in this battle, though it has been your mishap to lose it."—"Thou mayest save thyself the trouble," answered the prisoner haughtily; "my master knows me better than thou canst."

Buonaparte returned in triumph to Cairo on the 9th August; having, however, as he continued to represent himself friendly to the Porte, previously set on foot a negotiation for liberation of the Turkish prisoners.

This splendid and most decisive victory of Aboukir[424] concluded Napoleon's career in the East. It was imperiously necessary, ere he could have ventured to quit the command of his army, with the hope of preserving his credit with the public; and it enabled him to plead that he left Egypt for the time in absolute security. His military views had, indeed, been uniformly successful; and Egypt was under the dominion of France as completely as the sword could subject it. For two years afterwards, like the strong man in the parable, they kept the house which they had won, until in there came a stronger, by whom they were finally and forcibly expelled.

But, though the victory over the Turks afforded the French for the time undisturbed possession of Egypt, the situation of Buonaparte no longer permitted him those brilliant and immense prospects, in which his imagination loved to luxuriate. His troops were considerably weakened, and the miscarriage at Acre dwelt on the recollection of the survivors. The march upon Constantinople was now an impossibility,—that to India an empty dream. To establish a French colony in Egypt, of which Buonaparte sometimes talked, and to restore the Indian traffic to the shores of the Red Sea, thus sapping the sources of British prosperity in India, was a work for the time of peace, when the necessary communication was not impeded by the naval superiority of England. The French general had established, indeed, a chamber of commerce; but what commerce could take place from a closely blockaded harbour? Indeed, even in a more propitious season, the establishment of a pacific colony was no task for the ardent and warlike Napoleon; who, although his active spirit was prompt in striking out commercial schemes, was not possessed of the patience or steadiness necessary to carry them to success. It follows, that if he remained in Egypt, his residence there must have resembled the situation of a governor in a large city, threatened indeed, but as yet in no danger of being besieged, where the only fame which can be acquired is that due to prudent and patient vigilance. This would be a post which no young or ambitious soldier would covet, providing he had the choice of being engaged in more active service. On the other hand, from events which we shall endeavour to trace in the next chapter, there opened a scene of ambition in France, which permitted an almost boundless extent of hopes and wishes. Thus, Napoleon had the choice either of becoming a candidate for one of the greatest prizes which the world afforded—the supreme authority in that fine country—or of remaining the governor of a defensive army in Egypt, waiting the arrival of some new invaders—English, Russians, or Turks, to dispute his conquest with him. Had he chosen this latter line of conduct, he might have soon found himself the vassal of Moreau, or some other military adventurer, (perhaps from his own Italian army,) who, venturing on the course from which he had himself withdrawn, had attained to the government of France, and might soon have been issuing orders from the Luxembourg or the Tuileries to General Buonaparte, in the style of a sovereign to his subject.

There remained to be separated those strong ties, which were formed betwixt Napoleon and the army which he had so often led to victory, and who unquestionably thought he had cast his lot to live or die with them. But, undoubtedly, he might palliate his departure by the consideration, that he left them victorious over their boastful enemy, and without the chance of being speedily summoned to the field; and we can see no reason for supposing, as has been alleged, that any thing like fear had an influence in inducing Napoleon's desertion, as it has been termed, of his army. We cannot, indeed, give him credit for the absolute and pure desire of serving and saving France, which is claimed by his more devoted adherents, as the sole motive of his return to Europe; but we have no doubt that some feelings of this kind—to which, as we are powerful in deceiving ourselves, he himself might afford more weight than they deserved—mingled with his more selfish hopes, and that he took this important step with the desire of serving his country, as well as of advancing his own interest. Nor should it be forgotten, that the welfare even of the Egyptian army, as well as his own ambitious views, required that he should try his fortune at Paris. If he did not personally exert himself there, it seemed highly probable some revolution might take place, in which one of the consequences might be, that the victors of Egypt, deserted by their countrymen, should be compelled to lay down their arms.

The circumstances in which Buonaparte's resolution is said to have originated, as related by himself, were singularly fortuitous. Some intercourse took place with the Turkish fleet, in consequence of his sending the wounded Turks on board, and Sir Sidney Smith,[425] by way of taunting the French general with the successes of the Russians in Italy, sent him a set of newspapers containing an account of Suwarrow's victories, and a deplorable view of the French affairs on the continent.[426] If we may trust other authorities, however, to be quoted in their proper place, he already knew the state of affairs, both in Italy and France, by his own secret correspondence with Paris,[427] informing him, not only of the military reverses which the armies of the latter country had sustained, but of the state of parties, and of the public mind,—intelligence of greater utility and accuracy than could have been communicated by the English newspapers.

However his information was derived, Buonaparte lost no time in acting upon it, with all the secrecy which a matter of such importance required. Admiral Gantheaume, who had been with the army ever since the destruction of the fleet, received the general's orders to make ready for sea, with all possible despatch, two frigates then lying in the harbour of Alexandria.

Meantime, determined to preserve his credit with the Institute, and to bring evidence of what he had done for the cause of science, Buonaparte commanded Monge, who is said to have suggested the expedition, and the accomplished Denon, who became its historian, with Berthollet, to prepare to accompany him to Alexandria. Of military chiefs, he selected the Generals Berthier, Murat, Lannes, Marmont, Desaix, AndrÉossy, and BessiÈres, the best and most attached of his officers. He left Cairo as soon as he heard the frigates were ready and the sea open, making a visit to the Delta the pretext of his tour. Kleber and Menou, whom he meant to leave first and second in command, were appointed to meet him at Alexandria. But he had an interview with the latter only.

Kleber, an excellent soldier, and a man of considerable parts, was much displeased at the hasty and disordered manner in which the command of an important province and a diminished army were thrust upon him, and remonstrated in a letter to the Directory, upon the several points of the public service, which, by his conduct on this occasion, Buonaparte had neglected or endangered.[428] Napoleon afterwards laboured hard to answer the accusations which these remonstrances implied, and to prove, that, in leaving the Egyptian army, he had no intention of abandoning it; on the contrary, that he intended either to return in person, or to send powerful succours. He blamed Gantheaume, at a later period, for not having made his way from Toulon to Alexandria, with reinforcements and supplies. But Buonaparte, slow to see what contradicted a favourite project, could never be made to believe, unless when in the very act of experiencing it, that the superiority of the British naval power depends upon circumstances totally different from those which can be removed by equal courage, or even equal skill, on the part of the French naval officers; and that, until it be removed, it will be at great hazard that France shall ever attempt to retain a province so distant as Egypt.[429]

Napoleon left behind him a short proclamation,[430] apprising the army, that news of importance from France had recalled him to Europe, but that they should soon hear tidings of him. He exhorted them, in the meantime, to have confidence in their new commander; who possessed, he said, his good opinion, and that of the government; and in these terms he bade them farewell. Two frigates, La Muiron and La CarÉre, being ready for sea, the general embarked, from an unfrequented part of the beach, on the 22d August. Menou, who had met him there, came to Denon and others, who had attended the rendezvous without knowing exactly its purpose, as they were gazing in surprise at the unusual sight of two French frigates ready to put to sea, and informed them with agitation, that Buonaparte waited for them. They followed, as in a dream; but Denon had already secured that mass of measurements, drawings, manuscripts, and objects of antiquarian and scientific curiosity, which afterwards enabled him to complete the splendid work, which now contains almost the only permanent or useful fruits of the memorable expedition to Egypt.

Ere the frigates were far from land, they were reconnoitred by an English corvette—a circumstance which seemed of evil augury. Buonaparte assured his companions, by his usual allusions to his own destiny. "We will arrive safe," he said; "Fortune will never abandon us—we will arrive safe in despite of the enemy."

To avoid the English cruizers, the vessels coasted the shores of Africa, and the wind was so contrary, that they made but a hundred leagues in twenty days. During this time, Buonaparte studied alternately the Bible and the Koran;[431] more solicitous, it seemed, about the history of the countries which he had left behind, than the part which he was to play in that to which he was hastening. At length, they ventured to stand northward, and on the 30th September, they entered, by singular chance, the port of Ajaccio in Corsica, and Buonaparte found himself in his native city.[432] On the 7th October, they again put to sea, but, upon approaching the French coast, they found themselves in the neighbourhood of a squadron of English men-of-war. The admiral would have tacked about, to return to Corsica. "To do so," said Buonaparte, "would be to take the road to England—I am seeking that to France." He probably meant that the manoeuvre would attract the attention of the English. They kept on their course; but the peril of being captured seemed so imminent, that, though still several leagues from the shore, Gantheaume proposed to man his long-boat, in order that the general might attempt his escape in her. Buonaparte observed, that that measure might be deferred till the case was more desperate.[433]

At length, they passed, unsuspected and unquestioned, through the hostile squadron, and on the 9th October, at ten in the morning, he on whose fate the world so long seemed to depend, landed at St. Rapheau, near Frejus. He had departed at the head of a powerful fleet, and a victorious army, on an expedition designed to alter the destinies of the most ancient nations of the world. The result had been far from commensurate to the means employed. The fleet had perished—the army was blockaded in a distant province, when their arms were most necessary at home. He returned clandestinely, and almost alone; yet Providence designed that, in this apparently deserted condition, he should be the instrument of more extensive and more astonishing changes, than the efforts of the greatest conquerors had ever before been able to effect upon the civilized world.