Читать книгу The Camp-fires of Napoleon - Henry Clay Watson - Страница 12

The battle of Aboukir, was, perhaps, the only instance in the history of war, in which a hostile army was utterly annihilated by an inferior force. The victory, therefore, was one of the most splendid which Bonaparte ever achieved. The Turkish army, conveyed by the squadron of Sir Sidney Smith, anchored in Aboukir Bay on the 11th of July, 1799.

The place fixed upon by the English for their landing, was the peninsula which defends this road, and which bears the same name. This narrow peninsula runs out between the sea and Lake Madieh, and has a fort at its extremity. Bonaparte had ordered Marmont, who commanded at Alexandria, to improve the defences of the fort, and to destroy the village of Aboukir, situated around it. But, instead of destroying the village, he thought it better to keep the place in order to lodge the soldiers there; and it had merely been surrounded by a redoubt to protect it on the land side. But the redoubt not joining on both sides the sea, did not present the appearance of a close work, and put the fort on the same footing as a simple field-work. The Turks, in fact, landed with great boldness, attacked the intrenchments sword in hand, carried them, and made themselves masters of the village of Aboukir, putting the garrison to the sword. The village being taken, the fort could no longer hold out, and it was obliged to surrender. Marmont, who commanded at Alexandria, had issued forth, at the head of twelve hundred men, to hasten to the assistance of the troops at Aboukir. But learning that the Turks had landed in considerable numbers, he durst not attempt to drive them into the sea by a bold attack. He returned to Alexandria, and left them to quietly take up their position on the peninsula of Aboukir.

The Turks amounted to nearly eighteen thousand infantry. These were not the miserable Fellahs who had composed the infantry of the Mamelukes; but brave janizaries, carrying a musket without bayonet, slinging it at their back after firing, and rushing pistol and sword in hand upon the enemy. They had a numerous and well-served artillery, and were under the direction of English officers. They had no cavalry, for they had not brought more than three hundred horses; but they expected Murad Bey, who was to leave Upper Egypt, proceed along the desert, cross the oasis, and throw himself into Aboukir with two or three thousand Mamelukes.

When Bonaparte was informed of the particulars of the landing, he left Cairo instantly, and made from that city to Alexandria one of those extraordinary marches of which he had given so many instances in Italy. He took with him the divisions of Lannes, Bon, and Murat. He had ordered Desaix to evacuate Upper Egypt, and Kleber and Regnier, who were in the Delta, to bring themselves nearer Aboukir. He had chosen the point of Birket, midway between Alexandria and Aboukir, in order to concentrate his forces thither, and to manœuvre according to circumstances. He was very fearful lest an English army had landed with the Turks.

Murad Bey, according to the plan settled with Mustapha Pacha, had tried a descent into Lower Egypt; but being met and beaten by Murat, he had been obliged to regain the desert. There was now nothing left but the Turkish army to fight, destitute as it was of cavalry, but yet encamped behind intrenchments, and disposed to stand its ground there with its usual pertinacity. Bonaparte, after inspecting Alexandria and the admirable works executed by Colonel Cretin, and after reprimanding Marmont, his lieutenant, who had not dared to attack the Turks at the moment of landing, left Alexandria on the 6th Thermidor, (July 24th.) Next day, the 7th, he was at the entrance of the peninsula. His plan was to inclose the Turkish army by intrenchments, and to await the arrival of all his divisions, for all he had with him were no more than the divisions of Lannes, Bon, and Murat, about six thousand men. But on observing the arrangements made by the Turks, he altered his intentions, and resolved to attack them immediately, hoping to inclose them in the village of Aboukir, and to overwhelm them with bombs and howitzers.

The Turks occupied the furthest end of the peninsula, which is very narrow. They were covered by two lines of intrenchments. Half a league in advance of the village of Aboukir, where their camp was, they had occupied two round sand-hills, supported the one on the sea, the other on Lake Madieh, and thus forming their right and left. In the centre of these two hillocks was a village, which they had likewise kept. They had one thousand men on the hillock to the right, two thousand on the hillock to the left, and three or four thousand men in the village. Such was their first line. The second was at the village of Aboukir itself. It consisted of the redoubt constructed by the French, and was connected with the sea by two trenches. It was there that they had stationed their principal camp and the bulk of their forces.

Bonaparte made his arrangements with his usual promptitude and decision. He ordered General Destaing, with some battalions, to march to the hill on the left, where one thousand Turks were posted; Lannes to march to that on the right, where the two thousand others were; and Murat, who was at the centre, to make the cavalry file on the rear of the two hillocks. These arrangements were executed with great precision. Destaing marched to the hillock on the left, and boldly climbed it; Murat contrived to get at its rear with a troop of cavalry. The Turks, when they saw this, abandoned their post, fell in with the cavalry, which cut them in pieces, and drove them into the sea, into which they chose rather to throw themselves than to surrender. The same operation was executed on the right. Lannes attacked the two thousand Mamelukes, Murat got at their rear; and they were in like manner cut to pieces and driven into the sea. Destaing and Lannes then moved towards the centre, formed by a village, and attacked it in front. The Turks there defended themselves bravely, relying upon assistance from the second line. A column in fact was detached from the camp of Aboukir; but Murat, who had already filed upon the rear of the village, cut this column in pieces, and drove it back into Aboukir. Destaing’s infantry and that of Lannes entered the village at the charge step, driving the Turks out of it, who were dispersed in all directions, and who obstinately refusing to surrender, had no other retreat than the sea, wherein they were drowned.

Already four or five thousand had perished in this manner. The first line was carried; Bonaparte’s object was accomplished, and now, inclosing the Turks in Aboukir, he could bombard them while waiting for the arrival of Kleber and Regnier. But he desired to make the most of his success, and to complete his victory that very moment. After giving his troops a little breathing time, he marched upon the second line. The division under Lanusse, which had been left as a reserve, supported Lannes and Destaing. The redoubt which covered Aboukir was difficult to carry; it had within it nine or ten thousand Turks. On the right, a trench joined it to the sea; on the left, another trench brought it further out; but was not continued quite to Lake Madieh. The open space was occupied by the enemy, and swept by the fire of numerous gun-boats. Bonaparte, having accustomed his soldiers to defy the most formidable obstacles, sent them upon the enemy’s position. His divisions of infantry marched upon the front and the right of the redoubt. The cavalry, concealed in a wood of palm-trees, had to make the attack on the left, and then to cross, under the fire of the gun-boats, the open space between the redoubt and Lake Madieh. The charge was made; Lannes and Destaing urged forward their brave infantry. The 32d marched with their pieces on their arms towards the intrenchments, and the 18th got at the rear of the intrenchments on the extreme right. The enemy, without waiting for them, advanced to meet them. They fought hand to hand. The Turkish soldiers, having fired their pieces and their two pistols, drew their flashing sabres. They endeavored to grasp the bayonets, but received them in their flanks before they could lay hold of them. Thus a great slaughter took place in the intrenchments. The 18th was on the point of getting into the redoubt, when a tremendous fire of artillery repulsed it, and sent it back to the foot of the works. The gallant Leturcq fell gloriously, by desiring to be the last to retire; Fugieres lost an arm. Murat on his part had advanced with his cavalry, with a view to clear the space between the fire of the redoubt and Lake Madieh. Several times he had dashed forward, and had turned back the enemy; but taken between the two fires of the redoubt, and that of the gun-boats, he had been obliged to fall back on the rear. Some of his horse-soldiers had advanced to the ditches of the redoubt. The efforts of so many brave fellows appeared likely to be entirely unavailable. Bonaparte looked coolly on this carnage, waiting for a favorable moment to return to the charge. Fortunately the Turks, as they usually did, quitted the intrenchments for the purpose of cutting off the heads of the slain. Bonaparte seized this opportunity, launched forth two battalions, one of the 22d, the other of the 69th, which marched upon the intrenchments and carried them. On the right, the 18th also took advantage of this opportunity, and entered the redoubt. Murat, on his side, ordered a fresh charge. One of his divisions of cavalry traversed that most exposed space between the intrenchments and the lake, and made his way into the village of Aboukir. The Turks, affrighted, fled on all sides, and a horrible slaughter of them ensued. They were pressed by the point of the bayonet and driven into the sea. Murat, at the head of his heroes, penetrated into the camp of Mustapha Pacha. The latter, in a fit of despair, snatched up a pistol and fired it at Murat, whom he wounded slightly. Murat struck off two of his fingers and sent him prisoner to Bonaparte. Such of the Turks as were not killed or drowned retired into the fort of Aboukir.1

The proud army of the Turks was thus completely overwhelmed, as if it had been entirely buried by an avalanche. No wonder that the enthusiastic Kleber, after witnessing the manœuvres that gained this splendid victory, clasped Bonaparte in his arms, and exclaimed, “General, you are as great as the world itself.”

It was the second night after the battle. The army was encamped upon the field. Bonaparte was alone in his tent. That day he had contrived to obtain from Sir Sidney Smith a file of papers from Europe, from which he eagerly sought information as to the condition and prospects of France. He had dismissed all his officers, and now, as they were either carousing in their tents, or wandering among the camp-fires of the troops, he sat in his tent to obtain that information which was destined to lead to such great and decisive plans. See him, as he sits there, with his eyes keenly fixed upon the papers, and an occasional smile lighting up his features of bronze! He learns the calamities which have visited the armies of France, and then the smile is turned to a terrible frown, and he exclaims, passionately,

“The imbeciles! the imbeciles! Why was I not there?”

He perused the accounts of the overthrow of the French armies in Italy and Germany; he saw that all that he had gained for France, had been lost; he knew that these disasters would not have occurred if he had retained a European command; and he felt more strongly than ever that he was destined to retrieve the condition of affairs, to bind victory once more to the tri-color standard. Perhaps, also, his mind perceived the opportunity for gratifying the aspirations of a selfish ambition, and that this perception caused the frown to melt once more into a smile—a smile of triumph. He saw that the disasters attending the French arms had rendered the Directory unpopular, and that power was within the reach of any bold, decisive man, who would dare to attempt the overthrow of that government; and he had faith enough in himself to decide that he was the very man for the crisis. Long he read, and long he pondered. Cæsar deliberated upon the banks of the Rubicon. At length he started up. The die was cast. He would return to France and strike for the supreme authority. Having once decided upon his movements, no man could have taken his measures with more promptitude. He resolved to sail secretly for Europe. He wrote a dispatch to Admiral Gantheaume, directing him to get the Muiron and Carrere frigates ready for sea. He determined that as Kleber was very popular with the army, that general should be left in command. There could be no doubt of Klebers vigor, activity and skill. Bonaparte then sat down, and, with astonishing rapidity and precision, drew up a long list of instructions for the new commander-in-chief. He then sent word to Berthier, Lannes, Murat, Andreossy, Marmont, Berthollet, and Monge, that he wished to see them in his tent. It was late. But they came, without exception, at his summons. Kleber and Menou were then at Cairo, or they, also, would have been invited to this important conference. In a few words, Bonaparte communicated his sudden resolution to those officers he had assembled around him. They were surprised, but when he told them that he wished them to go with him, they were glad; for in spite of the glory achieved in Egypt, they were anxious to return to France. Berthier had been suffering for some time from depression of spirits, owing to a long standing matrimonial engagement; and he fairly leaped from his seat when he heard of the intention of the general-in-chief. Monge, that circumspect votary of science, hinted that there was the greatest danger of the whole party being captured by the English cruisers, which were exceedingly vigilant in the Mediterranean. The only reply was the brief and emphatic “I must incur the risk.” The officers cast significant glances at each other, but it was extremely doubtful if they fathomed his designs.

“I have received ill news from Europe, my friends,” said Bonaparte, toning over his papers, and seemingly attending to several matters at once. “The Austrians and Muscovites have gained the superiority. That which we won with so much toil has been lost, and France is threatened with the invasion of her territory. We are wanted in Europe, and in spite of winds, waves, and English cruisers, we must go thither.”

Soon afterwards the conference was broken up, and the general-in-chief was again alone in his tent—nay, not alone, for the images of ambition were fast crowding around him, and they were companions whom he valued more than the ordinary human realities of the camp. And there this all-daring, all-achieving soldier sat till the peep of day, perfecting his plans, the ultimate reach of which was a throne above thrones; for it was his habit of mind never to form a design which did not extend to the farthest point. In war, it was the conquest of a world at which he aimed; in politics, consul nor king could satisfy the cravings of his soul—he would be an emperor. Doubtless, his Rubicon was at Aboukir, and there the die was cast which determined him to be master of France.