‘I have this moment heard, that it is reported at the Institute, you are about to return for France, taking with you Monge, Berthollet, Berthier, Lannes, and Murat. This news has spread like lightning through the city, and I should not be at all surprised if it produced an unfavourable effect, which, however, I hope you will obviate.’
Bonaparte embarked five days after the receipt of Dugua’s letter; and, as may be supposed, without replying to it.
On August 18, he wrote to the Divan of Cairo as follows: ‘I set out to-morrow for Menouf, from whence I intend to make various excursions to the Delta, in order that I may, myself, witness the acts of oppression which are committed there, and to acquire some knowledge of the people.’
He told the army but half the truth: ‘The news from Europe,’ said he, ‘has determined me to proceed to France. I leave the command of the army to General Kleber. The army shall hear from me forthwith. At present I can say no more. It costs me much pain to quit troops to whom I am so strongly attached. But my absence will be but temporary, and the general I leave in command has the confidence of the government, as well as mine.’
At night, in the dark, on August 23, he stole on board: and who can wonder if the army expressed some dissatisfaction at his leaving them in the lurch? From the many works I have consulted, whilst writing this book, I can believe the words of General Danican (who has been before quoted) in ‘Ring the Alarum Bell!’—‘Immediately after Buonaparte’s midnight flight from Egypt, with the Cash of the army, he was hung in effigy by the Soldiers; who, in dancing round the spectacle, sang the coarsest couplets (a copy of which I have now in my possession) written for the occasion, to the tune of the Carmagnole, beginning: “So, Harlequin has at length deserted us!—never mind my boys, never mind; he will at last be really hanged; he promised to make us all rich; but, instead, he has robbed all the cash himself, and now’s gone off: oh! the scoundrel Harlequin, &c., &c.”’
FLIGHT FROM EGYPT.
This charge against Napoleon, of running away with the treasure-chests, is, like almost all the others, of French origin. Hear what Madame Junot says, as it shows the feeling of the French army on this point, that some one had taken them (for Napoleon’s benefit): ‘A report was circulated in the army that Junot was carrying away the treasures found in the pyramids by the General in Chief. He could not carry them away himself’ (such was the language held to the soldiers), ‘and so the man who possesses all his confidence is now taking them to him.’ The matter was carried so far that several subalterns, and soldiers, proceeded to the shore, and some of them went on board the merchantman which was to sail with Junot the same evening. They rummaged about, but found nothing; at length they came to a prodigious chest, which ten men could not move, between decks, “Here is the treasure!” cried the soldiers; “here is our pay that has been kept from us above a year; where is the key?” Junot’s valet, an honest German, shouted to them in vain, with all his might, that the chest did not belong to his chenerâl. They would not listen to him.
‘Unluckily, Junot, who was not to embark till evening, was not then on board. The mutineers seized a hatchet, and began to cut away at the chest, which they would soon have broken up, had not the ship’s carpenter come running out of breath. “What the devil are you at?” cried he, “mad fellows that you are: stop! don’t destroy my chest—here’s the key.” He opened it immediately, and lo!—the tools of the master carpenter.’
Barre, of course, alludes to this alleged robbery, and Combe writes of his desertion of his troops as follows:—