By the 19th Napoleon had returned to his work at Acre. Three French frigates brought him six cannon of large calibre and intelligence of a rapidly-approaching Turkish fleet, two vessels of which they had been fortunate enough to capture.
Almost every conceivable method of concluding the siege was now tried by both parties, and the place was literally honeycombed with mines. When the vanguard of the Turkish fleet was sighted, Napoleon knew that if he were to triumph it was to be now or never. With additional forces, both naval and military, the enemy would outnumber him in an alarming proportion, while his own ranks were diminishing hourly. Three columns were hurled to the attack; one was driven back, the others seized a tower which occupied an important strategic position. On the following day it became evident that without assistance the defenders would be forced to surrender. Sir Sidney Smith landed parties of sailors and marines, and was afterwards joined by reinforcements from the Turkish ships. By a subtle stratagem the French were prompted to make a false move which led them into the palace garden, where they were literally mown down. For ten days afterwards Napoleon struggled against the inevitable, and then, during the night of the 20th May, he began his first retreat to Cairo, via Jaffa and El Arish, a distance of some 300 miles, harassed by many a sharp skirmish with the enemy on the way.
After defeating Murad Bey and restoring some sort of order in Upper Egypt, Napoleon found it necessary to order Desaix to evacuate the province, an immediate concentration of troops having become imperative owing to the approach of yet another Turkish fleet at Alexandria and the landing of 10,000 Turks at Aboukir. Two battles were fought at Alexandria within a few hours, and many of the enemy were literally driven into the sea, but it was a close shave and Napoleon was within an ace of losing the second battle. Of the 10,000 Mussulmans who had landed to annihilate the French and restore Turkish rule in Egypt, 2,000 prisoners alone remained to tell the tale. It was one of the most marvellous of Napoleon’s many extraordinary achievements in that country.
When arranging for an exchange of prisoners Sir Sidney Smith took the opportunity to send a little packet of newspapers containing news of vital importance to the French commander. He read of French reverses, of the great armies of the Second Coalition coming into being against the Republic, of despair and discontent in official and public circles. Indeed, the Directory had gone so far as to negotiate for Napoleon’s return, so inextricable was the muddle they were in, but the General did not hear of this until later. He determined upon a policy which has been discussed in and out of season by historians for over a century; he would go back to France. Modern philosophers would have us believe that his decision was “perfectly justifiable on political grounds,” but many Frenchmen at the time thought otherwise. To them it seemed a flagrant injustice to the army he commanded. “Bonaparte had fled from Egypt, as he fled from Russia and from Waterloo,” says Baron de Frénilly. “A general does not flee—he retreats. But Bonaparte was ever the general of Fortune, and every time that she abandoned him he fled like a soldier, leaving the others to get out of the difficulty as best they could. This man, then, crept out of Egypt by night, glided between the English frigates and entered Paris. There he had to stoop and take what he wanted. France—after passing, during eight years, from the anarchy of revolutionaries to the anarchy of political comedians—was eager for the despotism of a single man.”
There is much truth in the Baron’s irony. For Napoleon the Orient had lost much of its charms; his political horizon was bounded again by the west solely because he had an eye for the main chance. His thoughts frequently wandered to the east at later periods of his career, the appeal becoming at times almost irresistible, so completely had the spell enchanted him. For the time being, however, it had lost its hold.
On the night of the 22nd August 1799, Napoleon left the inhospitable land of the Pharaohs never to return. There were grumbles and desertions on the part of the troops, which vague promises of relief from France did little to compensate. Kléber remained in command. On board the two frigates, alone available for Napoleon’s use, he found accommodation for many of the best officers, including Lannes, Berthier, Murat, Marmont, and Duroc, useful men to have at any time. Few ships have ever had a more distinguished passenger list. God may be on the side of the biggest battalions, as Napoleon said, but assuredly Providence was with the little band which set out on so hazardous a voyage on that still summer night. The undertaking was fraught with perils, for many British ships were sighted, but having once more gazed on his beloved Ajaccio, where he was greeted with every sign of respect and admiration, Napoleon landed safely at St Raphael, near Fréjus, on the 9th October 1799, after an absence from France of nearly fifteen months. He had not accomplished all he had set out to do, but he had added considerably to his military prestige, and that was everything in the position in which la belle France was now placed.
AFRICA