Part 76 (1/2)
On the 19th of April, 1798, the French fleet left the harbor of Toulon, and sailed toward the East, for, as Bonaparte said, ”Only in the Orient are great realms and great deeds--in the Orient, where six hundred millions of men live.”
But these six hundred millions have no army such as the French is, no commander like Bonaparte, no generals like Murat, Junot, Desaix, and, above all, Kleber.
Kleber was the second in command. He shared his perils, he shared his victories, and with him was united his nephew Louis, a youth of fourteen years, who, from his tall, slim figure, his gravity, and his ready understanding, would have pa.s.sed at least for a youth of eighteen, and who, trained in the school of misfortune, belonged to those early-matured natures which destiny has steeled, that they may courageously contend with and gain the victory over destruction.
It was on the morning of the 3d of July. The French army had disembarked, and stood not far from Alexandria, on the ancient sacred soil of Egypt. Whatever was done must be done quickly, for Nelson was approaching with a fleet, prepared to contend with the French for the possession of Alexandria. Should the city not be taken before the arrival of the English fleet, the victory would be doubtful. Bonaparte knew this well. ”Fortune gives us three days'
time at the most,” cried he, ”and if we do not use them we are lost!”
But he did use them! With fearful rapidity the disembarkation of the troops was effected; with fearful rapidity the French army arranged itself on Egyptian soil in three divisions, under Morand, Bon, and Kleber. Above them all was he whose head had conceived the gigantic undertaking, he whose heroic spirit comprehended the whole. This was Bonaparte.
After inspecting all the army and issuing his orders, he rode up the hill in company with his staff to the pillar of Pompey, in order to observe from that point the course of events. The army was advancing impetuously, and soon the city built by Alexander the Great must open its gates to his successor, Bonaparte the Great.
After a short respite, the army advanced farther into the land of the pyramids. ”Remember,” cried Bonaparte to his soldiers, pointing to those monuments--”remember that forty centuries look down upon you.”
And the pyramids of the great plain of Cairo beheld the glorious deeds and victories of the French army, beheld the overthrow of the Egyptian host. The Nile murmured with its blood-red waves the death- song of the brave Mamelukes, and the ”forty centuries” which looked down from the pyramids were obliterated by the glorious victories that Bonaparte gained at the foot of those sacred monuments. A new epoch was to begin. The old epoch was buried for Egypt, and out of the ruins of past centuries a new Egypt was to be born, an Egypt which was to serve France and be tributary to it as a va.s.sal.
This was Bonaparte's plan, and he did every thing to bring it to completion. He pa.s.sed from battle to battle, from victory to victory, and after conquering Egypt and taking up his residence in Cairo, he at once began to organize the newly-won country, and to introduce to the idle and listless East the culture of the earnest and progressive West. But Egypt would not accept the treasures of culture at the hand of its conqueror. It rose again and again in rebellion against the power that held it down, and hurled its flaming torches of revenge against the hated enemy. A token of this may be seen in the dreadful revolt at Cairo, which began in the night of the 20th of October, and, after days of violence, ended with the cruel cutting down of six thousand Mamelukes. A proof of it may be seen in the constantly renewed attacks of swarms of Bedouins and Mamelukes on the French army. These hordes advanced even to the gates of Cairo, and terrified the population, which had at last taken refuge beneath the foot of the conqueror. But Bonaparte succeeded in subjugating the hostile Bedouin tribes, as he had already subjugated the population of the cities. He sent one of his adjutants, General Croisier, with a corps of brave soldiers, into the desert to meet the emir of the hostile tribes, and Croisier won respect for the commands of his general. He succeeded in taking captive the whole body. A fearful sentence was inflicted on them.
Before the eyes of their wives, their children, and their mothers, all the men of the tribe, more than five hundred in number, were killed and their heads put into sacks. The howling and weeping women and children were driven to Cairo. Many perished of hunger on the road, or died beneath the sabre-blows of their enemies; but more than a thousand succeeded in reaching Cairo. They were obliged to encamp upon the great square El Bekir, in the heart of Cairo, till the donkeys arrived which bore the dreadful spoils of victory in blood-dripping bags upon their backs. The whole population of Cairo was summoned to this gigantic square, and was obliged to look on while the sacks were opened and the b.l.o.o.d.y heads rolled out upon the sacred soil of Egypt.
After this time quiet reigned for a season. Horror had brought the conquered into subjection, and Bonaparte could continue his victorious course. He withdrew to Syria, taking with him Kleber and Kleber's young adjutant, the little Louis. He saw the horrors of war; he was there, the son of the Kings of France, when the army of the republic conquered the cities El Arish and Gaza; he took part by the side of Kleber in the storming of Jaffa. He was there when the captured Jaffa had to open its gates to the victors. He was there when, in the great caravansary, four thousand Turkish soldiers grounded their arms and surrendered themselves as prisoners, after receiving the promise that their lives should be spared. He was there, too, the son of Marie Antoinette, when the unfortunates were driven down to the sea-coast and shot, in order that their enemies might be rid of them. He was there, the son of Louis XVI., when Bonaparte visited the pest-house in Jaffa; he walked through the sick-rooms at the side of his uncle Kleber, who noticed how the face of the young man, which had so often been calm in meeting death on the battle-field or in the storm of a.s.sault, now quivered, and the paleness of death swept over his cheeks.
”What was the matter, my son?” asked Kleber, as he returned home from this celebrated visit to the pest-house. ”Why did you turn pale all at once, Louis?”
”General,” responded Louis, perplexed, ”I know not how to answer.”
”You ought not to have gone with me to the hospital,” said Kleber, shaking his head. ”You know I did not want you to go at first; but you insisted on it, and begged and implored so long that at last I had to yield and let you accompany us. But, I confess it myself, it was a dreadful sight, these sick people with their swollen bodies covered with blood and running sores. I understand now why you trembled and turned pale--you were afraid of this dreadful sickness?”
”No, general,” answered Louis, softly--”no, I have no fear. Did you not notice that I sprang forward and a.s.sisted General Bonaparte, when he lifted up the poor sick man who lay on the floor before the door, and that I helped carry him into the room?”
”I saw it, Louis, and I was much pleased with your courage, and was therefore surprised afterward when you turned pale and trembled, and I saw tears in your eyes. What agitated you all at once so much?”
The young man slowly raised his head and looked at Kleber with his great blue eyes. ”General,” he said, softly, ”I myself do not know what agitated me so much. We were both standing before the bed of a sick man, to whom I handed a pitcher of water which he begged for earnestly. He fixed his great eyes upon me, and his quivering lips murmured: 'G.o.d bless you! all saints and angels protect you!' As he spoke these words, there resounded in my heart the echo of a time long since past. It seemed to me as if suddenly a dark curtain parted, and I looked as in a dream at a wondrous, brilliant spectacle. I saw a beautiful and dignified woman of princely figure, of n.o.ble, majestic nature. With her I saw two children, a girl and a boy, whom she led by the hand, and with whom she walked through a long hall which was filled with rows of beds. And as she walked there, it seemed as if the sun lightened up the dismal hall, and illumined the pale faces of the sick ones. They raised themselves up in their beds and extended their thin, emaciated hands to the tall lady, and thanked her with earnest blessings for her visit and her comforting words. There was only one of the patients who did not rise, but lay stiff upon his bed and moaned and sighed and whispered unintelligible words, which no one heeded, because the attention of all was fixed upon the great visitor. But the boy who was walking by the side of the tall lady had understood the sobs of the sick one.
He left his mother, took the jug which stood upon a table between two beds, filled a gla.s.s with water from it, and held it to the dry, quivering lips of the sick one. He drank greedily, and then fixed his eyes upon the boy and lisped the words: 'G.o.d bless you! all saints and angels protect you!' And all the people repeated aloud: 'G.o.d bless you, all saints and angels protect you!' The dignified lady stooped with a heavenly smile to her son, pressed a tender kiss upon his golden locks, and repeated the same words aloud. This, general, was the fantasy which suddenly appeared before my eyes when the patient spoke those words to-day. It seemed to me as if I perceived all at once a long-silent song of home. I heard the wonderful voice of the exalted lady who spoke those words. It seemed to me as if I felt the kiss which she then imprinted on the head of the five-year-old boy, felt it to my inmost heart, and it glowed there with the fire of an undying love, and shook my whole being, and filled my eyes with tears. You will not chide me for that, general, for those were the lips of my mother who pressed that kiss of blessing on her unhappy son.”
He ceased, tears choked his utterance, and, as if ashamed of his deep emotion, he hid his face in his hands.
General Kleber turned away too, and put his hand over his eyes, as though a film had come over them. Then, after a long pause he gently laid his hand upon the shoulder of the young man, who was still sitting with covered face.
”Such memories are holy,” he said, ”and I honor them, my dear, faithful son. May the blessing which then fell from the lips of a woman whom I too knew and honored, but whose name may never be spoken between us, may it be fulfilled to you! May angels and saints protect you when men shall no longer have the power, and when fate shall separate you from those who have devoted their love and fidelity to you!”
The youth let his hands fall from his face, and looked at the general with a startled, searching glance.
”What do you mean, uncle? You do not mean to say that--”
”That we must part? Yes, my dear nephew, that is what I must say,”
interrupted Kleber, sadly. ”This word has long been burning in my soul, and it is necessary that I speak it. Yes, we must part, Louis.”
”Why, oh why?” asked Louis, bitterly. ”Why will you too drive me away? You, the only one who loves me a little!”
”Exactly because I love you--exactly for that reason must I separate myself from you. Since we came to Egypt you have been sickly, your cheeks have become pale. The fulness of your limbs has gone, and the dry and hard cough that troubles you every morning has long made me anxious, as you know. On that account, after all the appliances of my physician failed, I applied, as you know, to the physician of the commanding general, to Corvisart, and he has subjected you to a thorough examination.”