to be abandoned, demanded with earnest entreaties, to be put to death. Larrey was of opinion that recovery was impossible, and that those poor fellows could not exist many hours; but as they might live long enough to be alive when the Turks entered, and experience the dreadful torments which they were accustomed to inflict upon their prisoners, he thought it would be an act of charity to comply with their desires, and accelerate their end by a few hours. Desgenettes did not approve of this, and replied, that his profession was to cure the sick, and not to despatch them.
‘ “Larrey came to me immediately afterwards, informed me of the circumstances, and of what Desgenettes had said; adding, that perhaps Desgenettes was right. ‘But,’ continued Larrey, ‘those men cannot live more than a few hours, twenty-four, or thirty-six at most; and, if you will leave a rear-guard of cavalry to stay and protect them from advanced parties, it will be sufficient.’ Accordingly I ordered four or five hundred cavalry to remain behind, and not to quit the place until all were dead. They did remain, and informed me that all had expired before they had left the town; but I have heard since, that Sydney Smith found one or two alive when he entered it. This is the truth of the business. …
‘ “You have been amongst the Turks, and know what they are; I ask you now, to place yourself in the situation of one of those sick men, and that you were asked which you would prefer, to be left to suffer the tortures of those miscreants, or to have opium administered to you?” I replied, “Most undoubtedly I would prefer the latter.” “Certainly, so would any man,” answered Napoleon; “if my own son (and I believe I love my son as well as any father does his child) were in a similar situation with those men, I would advise it to be done; and, if so situated myself, I would insist upon it, if I had sense enough, and strength enough to demand it. …
‘ “If I had thought such a measure, as that of giving opium, necessary, I would have called a council of war, have stated the necessity of it, and have published it in the order of the day.” He afterwards goes on to say that if he had done so, some of his soldiers would have been sure to have shot him.’
I have gone thus at length into these occurrences at Jaffa, to show how widely spread was the belief in them, and also to prove that these scandals were not of British origin. Whatever amount of truth there may be in them, readers must judge, as I have laid both sides fairly before them. That there was foundation for them, there can be no doubt—but we know that a tale does not lose in telling.
The return to Cairo, and the battle of Aboukir, are soon dismissed by the satirist, and not chronicled by the caricaturist.
CHAPTER XVII.
THE OLD RÉGIME AND THE REPUBLICANS—THE ‘INCROYABLES’—NAPOLEON LEAVES EGYPT—HIS REASONS FOR SO DOING—FEELING OF THE ARMY—ACCUSED OF TAKING WITH HIM THE MILITARY CHEST.
It is refreshing, and like going among green pastures and cool streams, to leave for a while political caricature, with its ambitions, and its carnage, and find a really funny social skit, aiming at the follies of the times, even if it be only in ridiculing extravagance in dress.
Exceedingly droll is a social caricature by Gillray (August 15, 1799), where a courtly old gentleman of the Court of Louis XVI. bows low, saying, ‘Je suis votre tres humble serviteur,’ whilst the ruffianly French ‘gentleman of the Court of Égalité’ replies with a sentence unfit for reproduction. (See next page.)
Littré, in his magnificent dictionary, gives a very terse definition of these ‘Incroyables’: ‘S. m. Nom donné aux petit maîtres sous le Directoire, parce q’uon les entendait s’ecrier propos, c’est vraiment incroyable; et, parce que leur costume était tellement exagéré qu’il dépassait la croyance commune.’ They were Napoleon’s detestation, according to Madame Junot, and she describes them with feminine minuteness. ‘They wore grey greatcoats with black collars and green cravats. Their hair, instead of being à la Titus, which was the prevailing fashion of the day, was powdered, plaited, and turned up with a comb, while on each side of the face hung two long curls, called dog’s ears (oreilles de chien). As these young men were very frequently attacked, they carried about with them large sticks, which were not always weapons of defence; for the frays which arose in Paris at that time were often provoked by them.’
Pardon must be begged for this digression, and the matter in hand strictly attended to.
A FRENCH GENTLEMAN OF THE
COURT OF LOUIS XVI.
A FRENCH GENTLEMAN OF THE
COURT OF ÉGALITÉ.
Napoleon left Egypt on August 23, 1799, and reached France October 8 of that year. The causes for this step will be detailed a little later on. Meanwhile the caricaturist was watching events on the Continent, and, after his lights, depicting them. With those not personally affecting Napoleon we have nothing to do; and of him—Egypt being a far cry—we have but few, until after his return, when he was brought prominently before European notice. Gillray thought he saw his power declining, and on September 1, 1799, he published ‘Allied Powers, Unbooting Égalité.’ In this picture Napoleon is being badly treated. One foot is on a Dutch cheese, which a Hollander is plucking away; a British tar has him fast round the waist, and arms; whilst a Turk, of most ferocious description, his dress being garnished with human ears, is pulling his nose, and slashing him with his scimitar, St. Jean d’Acre, which is reeking with blood. Prussia, backed up by Russia, is drawing off Italy, which serves as a boot for one leg, and, with it, a large quantity of gold coin.
The causes which induced Napoleon to leave Egypt cannot better be made known, and understood, than by quoting from De Bourrienne, who was an actor in this episode. He says: ‘After the battle,49 which took place on the 25th July, Bonaparte sent a flag of truce on board the English Admiral’s ship. Our intercourse was full of politeness, such as might be expected in the communications of the people of two civilised nations. The English Admiral gave the flag of truce some presents, in exchange for some we sent, and, likewise, a copy of the French Gazette of Francfort, dated 10th June, 1799.50 For ten months we had received no news from France. Bonaparte glanced over this journal with an eagerness which may easily be conceived.
‘ “Heavens!” said he to me, “my presentiment is verified: the fools have lost Italy. All the fruits of our victories are gone! I must leave Egypt!”
‘He sent for Berthier, to whom he communicated the news, adding that things were going on very badly in France—that he wished to return home—that he (Berthier) should go along with him, and that, for the present, only he, Gantheaume, and I, were in the secret. He recommended him to be prudent, not to betray any symptoms of joy, nor to purchase, or sell, anything.
‘He concluded by assuring him that he depended on him. “I can answer,” said he, “for myself and Bourrienne.” Berthier promised to be secret, and he kept his word. He had had enough of Egypt, and he so ardently longed to return to France, that there was little reason to fear he would disappoint himself by any indiscretion.
‘Gantheaume arrived, and Bonaparte gave him orders to fit out the two frigates, the Muiron and the Carrère, and the two small vessels, the Revanche and the Fortune, with a two months’ supply of provisions for from four, to five, hundred men. He enjoined his secrecy as to the object of these preparations, and desired him to act with such circumspection that the English cruisers might have no knowledge of what was going on. He afterwards arranged with Gantheaume the course he wished to take. Nothing escaped his attention.’
Bonaparte concealed his operations with much care; but still some vague rumours crept abroad. General Dugua, the commandant of Cairo, whom he had just left, for the purpose of embarking, wrote to him on August 18 to the following effect:—
‘I have this moment heard, that it is reported at the Institute, you are about to return for France, taking with you Monge,