Murad Bey saw this movement, and, fully aware of its consequence, prepared to charge with his magnificent body of horse, declaring he would cut the French up like gourds. Buonaparte, as he directed the infantry to form squares to receive them, called out to his men, "From yonder Pyramids twenty centuries behold your actions."[381] The Mamelukes advanced with the utmost speed, and corresponding fury, and charged with horrible yells. They disordered one of the French squares of infantry, which would have been sabred in an instant, but that the mass of this fiery militia was a little behind the advanced guard. The French had a moment to restore order, and used it. The combat then in some degree resembled that which, nearly twenty years afterwards, took place at Waterloo; the hostile cavalry furiously charging the squares of infantry, and trying, by the most undaunted efforts of courage, to break in upon them at every practicable point, while a tremendous fire of musketry, grape-shot, and shells, crossing in various directions, repaid their audacity. Nothing in war was ever seen more desperate than the exertions of the Mamelukes. Failing to force their horses through the French squares, individuals were seen to wheel them round, and rein them back on the ranks, that they might disorder them by kicking. As they became frantic with despair, they hurled at the immoveable phalanxes, which they could not break, their pistols, their poniards, and their carabines. Those who fell wounded to the ground, dragged themselves on, to cut at the legs of the French with their crooked sabres. But their efforts were all vain.
The Mamelukes, after the most courageous efforts to accomplish their purpose, were finally beaten off with great slaughter; and as they could not form or act in squadron, their retreat became a confused flight. The greater part attempted to return to their camp, from that sort of instinct, as Napoleon termed it, which leads fugitives to retire in the same direction in which they had advanced. By taking this route they placed themselves betwixt the French and the Nile; and the sustained and insupportable fire of the former soon obliged them to plunge into the river, in hopes to escape by swimming to the opposite bank—a desperate effort, in which few succeeded. Their infantry at the same time evacuated their camp without a show of resistance, precipitated themselves into the boats, and endeavoured to cross the Nile. Very many of these also were destroyed. The French soldiers long afterwards occupied themselves in fishing for the drowned Mamelukes, and failed not to find money and valuables upon all whom they could recover.[382] Murad Bey, with a part of his best Mamelukes, escaped the slaughter by a more regular movement to the left, and retreated by Gizeh into Upper Egypt.[383]
Thus were, in a great measure, destroyed the finest cavalry, considered as individual horsemen, that were ever known to exist. "Could I have united the Mameluke horse to the French infantry," said Buonaparte, "I would have reckoned myself master of the world."[384] The destruction of a body hitherto regarded as invincible, struck terror, not through Egypt only, but far into Africa and Asia, wherever the Moslem religion prevailed.
After this combat, which, to render it more striking to the Parisians, Buonaparte termed the "Battle of the Pyramids," Cairo surrendered without resistance. The shattered remains of the Mamelukes who had swam the Nile and united under Ibrahim Bey, were compelled to retreat into Syria. A party of three hundred French cavalry ventured to attack them at Salahieh, but were severely handled by Ibrahim Bey and his followers, who, having cut many of them to pieces, pursued their retreat without farther interruption. Lower Egypt was completely in the hands of the French, and thus far the expedition of Buonaparte had been perfectly successful. But it was not the will of Heaven, that even the most fortunate of men should escape reverses; and a severe one awaited Napoleon.
CHAPTER XIII.
French Fleet—Conflicting Statements of Buonaparte and Admiral Gantheaume—Battle of Aboukir on 1st August, 1798—The French Admiral, Brueyes, killed, and his Ship, L'Orient, blown up—The Victory complete—Effects of this disaster—Means by which Napoleon proposed to establish himself in Egypt—His Administration, in many respects, praiseworthy—in others, his Conduct absurd—He aspires to be regarded an Envoy of the Deity—His endeavours to propitiate the Porte—The Fort of El Arish falls into his hands—Massacre of Jaffa—Admitted by Buonaparte himself—His Arguments in its defence—Replies to them—General Conclusions—Plague in the French Army—Napoleon's Humanity and Courage upon this occasion—Proceeds against Acre to attack Djezzar Pacha—Sir Sidney Smith—His Character—Captures a French Convoy, and throws himself into Acre—French arrive before Acre on 17th March, 1799, and effect a breach on the 28th, but are driven back—Assaulted by an Army of Moslems assembled without the Walls of Acre, whom they defeat and disperse—Personal Misunderstanding and Hostility betwixt Napoleon and Sir Sidney Smith—Explained—Buonaparte is finally compelled to raise the Siege.
FRENCH FLEET.
When Buonaparte and his army were safely landed in Egypt, policy seemed to demand that the naval squadron, by which they had been escorted, should have been sent back to France as soon as possible. The French leader accordingly repeatedly asserts, that he had positively commanded Admiral Brueyes, an excellent officer, for whom he himself entertained particular respect,[385] either to carry his squadron of men-of-war into the harbour of Alexandria, or, that being found impossible, instantly to set sail for Corfu. The harbour, by report of the Turkish pilots, was greatly too shallow to admit without danger vessels of such a deep draught of water; and it scarce can be questioned that Admiral Brueyes would have embraced the alternative of setting sail for Corfu, had such been in reality permitted by his orders. But the assertion of Buonaparte is pointedly contradicted by the report of Vice-Admiral Gantheaume, who was himself in the battle of Aboukir, escaped from the slaughter with difficulty, and was intrusted by Buonaparte with drawing up the account of the disaster, which he transmitted to the minister of war. "Perhaps it may be said," so the despatch bears, "that it would have been advisable to have quitted the coast as soon as the disembarkation had taken place. But, considering the orders of the commander-in-chief, and the incalculable force afforded to the land-army by the presence of the squadron, the admiral thought it was his duty not to quit these seas."[386]
Looking at the matter more closely—considering the probability of Nelson's return, and the consequent danger of the fleet—considering, too, the especial interest which naval and military officers attach each to their peculiar service, and the relative disregard with which they contemplate the other, we can see several reasons why Buonaparte might have wished, even at some risk, to detain the fleet on the coast of Egypt, but not one which could induce Brueyes to continue there, not only without the consent of the commander-in-chief, but, as Napoleon afterwards alleged, against his express orders. It is one of the cases in which no degree of liberality can enable us to receive the testimony of Buonaparte, contradicted at once by circumstances, and by the positive testimony of Gantheaume.