But he was not one to waste much time in dalliance. Turkey was not at all satisfied with the occupation of Egypt, and two armies were assembled, one in Syria, and one at Rhodes; the former of which had already pushed forward into Egyptian territory as far as El-Arisch, and also a train of artillery had been placed at Jaffa (the ancient Joppa). The commander of this corps d’armée (Achmet Pacha) had earned the unenviable title of Djezzar, or the Butcher. Napoleon, very early in the year 1799, marched against him, his busy brain having schemed the plan of crushing these Turkish troops, a demonstration against Constantinople itself, a forced peace with the Porte, and then hey! for India. To pave the way for this latter he actually wrote to Tippoo Sahib, saying he was coming to deliver him from the English yoke, and requesting his answer, which he might possibly have received, had not Tippoo been killed on May 4 of that year.
Napoleon, by way of conciliating the Egyptians, assisted at the celebration of ‘Ramadan,’ with great pomp, which, naturally, would afford his detractors another opportunity for outcry at his Mahometan proclivities. As soon as it was over, he set out against Achmet Pacha, and, on February 17, El-Arisch capitulated, and the army marched to Gaza. How the vanguard lost their way, and their terrible sufferings in the desert, it boots not to tell. Gaza was taken, its stores were confiscated, and then Jaffa was their bourne, which was reached, and invested, on March 4.
Before reading the sad page of history which Jaffa gives us, let us glance at one or two caricatures which appeared in England about this time. Napoleon had taken with him, in his expedition to Egypt, Denon and divers other learned men to investigate the archæology of the country, &c., and most valuable were the services of ‘the Institute,’ as this body of savants was called. They furnished some fun to the army, and the cry, when any danger threatened, of ‘the Asses and the Savants to the centre,’ was naturally productive of mirth; the army also christening the asses ‘Demi-savants.’
Gillray makes great fun of the expedition to Egypt, and satirises the French soldiers unmercifully; nor do the poor savants who accompanied the army fare any better. A good example is the ‘Siege de la Colonne de Pompée, or Science in the Pillory,’ published March 6, 1799. At the foot of the picture is: ‘It appears by an intercepted letter from General Kleber, dated Alexandria, 5 brumaire, 7th year of the Republic, that when the garrison was obliged to retire into the New Town, at the approach of the Turkish Army, under the Pacha of Rhodes, a party of the sçavans, who had ascended Pompey’s Pillar for scientific purposes, was cut off by a Band of Bedouin Arabs, who, having made a large Pile of Straw, and dry Reeds, at the foot of the Pillar, set fire to it, and rendered unavailing the gallant defence of the learned Garrison, of whose Catastrophe the above design is intended to convey an idea.
‘To study Alexandria’s store
Of Science, Amru deem’d a bore
And briefly set it burning.
The Man was ignorant, ’tis true,
So sought one comprehensive view
Of the light shed by learning.
Your modern Arabs grown more wise,
French vagrant Science duly prize;
They’ve fairly bit the biters.
They’ve learnt the style of Hebert’s Jokes,
Amru to books confined his Hoax;
These Bedouins roast the writers.’
The savants are, indeed, in a parlous state, on the broad summit of the pillar, exposed to fire from below, and the guns and pistols of the Arabs; they defend themselves as well as possible by hurling their globes, and scientific instruments, at their assailants, who are exceedingly astonished at them. A balloon, La Diligence d’Abyssinie, is fired at, and struck, the aeronauts, one of whom has a parachute, being precipitated to the ground.
‘The Institute,’ which was modelled on that of Paris, also gave scope to Gillray’s facile pencil, and he published a series of half a dozen plates, in the first one of which it was most amusingly caricatured. It was published on March 12, 1799, and called, ‘L’Insurrection de l’Institut Amphibie—The pursuit of Knowledge.’ A savant is depicted as studying a work ‘Sur l’Education du Crocodile,’ some plates from which have dropped out. They show how useful the crocodile may become, by training, to tow vessels, and to ride and drive on land. He evidently is intending to put his theories into practice, for he has brought with him, to the river’s side, a saddle, a fearfully cruel bridle, and a huge whip, when he is seized by an enormous saurian, and devoured. Another learned man, who has been reading ‘Les Droits du Crocodile,’ drops it, when he finds one of these creatures asserting its rights by seizing his coat-tails.