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aged by the English, declared be left unsubdued in the rear war against the French early of an advancing army. "In in January 1799, and mobilised that miserable fort," said their troops at Rhodes and Napoleon at a later date, "lay in Syria. Bonaparte, having the fate of the East." "When decided to take the offensive, I have captured it," he told his at once began to organise an generals, "I shall march on expedition into Syria, and early Damascus and Aleppo. I shall in February he set out with arm the tribes. I shall reach nearly his whole army to cross Constantinople. I shall turn the desert to Gaza. He arrived the Turkish Empire upside at that town on February 25, down." And more than this: and on March 7 Jaffa was when Acre fell Bonaparte taken by assault-all the would begin in earnest his prisoners, between 4000 and reign as Sultan of the Orient 5000, being taken out upon and Prophet of the New Islam. the beach and there butchered But Acre did not fall. in cold blood by the express grimy faces of those few British orders of the Corsican "Sultan," bluejackets smiled at him from who at a later date attempted the rotten walls, day after day to justify his conduct on the defying him and enraging him plea of expediency. On March with their light-hearted taunts. 19 the army arrived in sight With the aid of the men-o'-war of the seaport of Acre, and in the harbour Sir Sidney it must have been with the Smith kept up an astonishing utmost annoyance that Bona- defence, again and again reparte discerned upon its walls pulsing the French troops. the heavy guns which very im- The sailors fought with a will, prudently he had sent by sea to thoroughly enjoying their tussle be delivered to him at this spot, with the great "Boney," patbut which had been captured ting the Turks on the back with by the ubiquitous English and friendly energy, as a certain landed at Acre. He learnt also writer states, and leading them to his chagrin that the town out in one daring sally after had been put into a state of another. The little garrison of defence by a French Royalist less than 3000 men all told engineer named Phelippeaux wrought havoc amongst Bonaand by Sir Sidney Smith, the parte's mighty army; and by reckless English naval officer the time that the siege had who, five years previously, had lasted a month the French set fire to the arsenal of irritation had caused the fightToulon. These two men were ing to be daily of the most now in command of the small desperate character. The Turkish garrison of Acre, and enemy often succeeded in were calmly defying the whole obtaining a temporary footing French army. at the very gates of the town, and here they would entrench themselves by erecting walls of sandbags, amongst which the still warm bodies of their fallen

Acre was to some extent to be regarded as the key to Syria, for although it was a town of small size, it could not

comrades were built in. By the first week in May nearly forty assaults had been made on the town, and Sir Sidney Smith had led over twenty sorties. In some of these the midshipmen rendered valuable service by running forward with an armful of grenades, throwing them like so many snowballs at the exasperated French veterans. The only disaster on the English side was caused by the over-zeal of a middy who was amusing himself by collecting unexploded French shells, which were to be used against their original owners, and who blew himself and his ship to smithereens in the process.

On May 8 a Turkish fleet approached the port with reinforcements from Rhodes, and Bonaparte therefore made a desperate attack upon the town. The fighting was handto-hand, and at one time the very spearheads of the opposing standards were locked. The enemy, however, was driven back with dreadful slaughter. The fighting lasted all day, and towards evening a last assault was delivered by General Kleber's famous grenadiers. Bonaparte, standing upon a gun in the nearest French battery, watched the fight with white, expressionless face; and although members of his staff were killed around him, he was far too desperate and far too angry to move to a safer position. He watched the gigantic Kleber leading his men up to the breach, he watched the appalling struggle under the blackened, ruined walls, and finally he saw his invincible

grenadiers pushed down the hill once more, pursued by Sir Sidney Smith and his sailors, while Kléber, black with powder and grime, and voiceless with rage, tried in vain to rally them.

On May 20, sixty days after the beginning of the siege, Bonaparte was in full retreat back to Egypt, leaving behind him 4000 dead Frenchmen, amongst whom were eight generals.

The temper of his army was sullen, and he himself was in the lowest depths of depression. His dreams of an Oriental empire were shattered, and bitterly he spoke of "that young fool," Sidney Smith, as the man who had "spoiled his destiny."

Previous to invading Syria Bonaparte had sent a letter to Tippoo Sahib at Mysore, saying that he was coming to relieve him from the iron yoke of the English, but this letter had fallen into the hands of these very English, who seemed destined to thwart him at every point; and it had served to spur them on to action in India, with the result that on May 4 Seringapatam was stormed and Tippoo Sahib slain. And thus on all sides the hopes of attacking England in India were wrecked.

The march back to Egypt was a terrible affair. Plague attacked the army, and many faithful soldiers had to be left to die upon the roads. At Jaffa, Bonaparte was so averse to leaving his wounded-some 600 in number-to the mercy of the Arabs that he discussed with the doctors the desirability of poisoning them all;

Two

and there is considerable reason decided to leave at once.
to suppose that he actually
issued orders to this effect, and
that some 580 were poisoned.
Seven who survived were
rescued by Sir Sidney Smith
two days after the Freneh had
departed. Reaching Egypt,
Bonaparte entered Cairo with
flags flying, pretending that
he had returned as a conqueror
to his headquarters; but a
month later, on July 14, an
enormous Turkish army landed
at Aboukir in pursuit of him.
Bonaparte attacked them on
the 25th, and although they
were assisted by a few English
ships, he thoroughly defeated
them, driving them into the
sea, where thousands who had
escaped fire and sword were
miserably drowned. The vic-
tory meant a great deal to
Bonaparte, for it covered in its
glory the miserable failure of
his Syrian campaign. He had
now digested the fact that his
hopes of conquering the Orient
were vain, and that it was not
his destiny any longer to be-
come a Prophet in the East;
and his one idea was to slip
back to France as quickly as
possible. If this battle had
not been fought he would have
been obliged to return as a
defeated commander; but now
he could sail for France, bring-
ing with him the news of the
destruction of the Turkish
army. Sir Sidney Smith, who
was cruising off the coast, sent
him after the battle a bundle
of French newspapers, in which
the situation in France was
painted in very gloomy colours.
Bonaparte sat up all night
reading the news, and by
morning he had definitely

frigates were prepared with
the utmost secrecy, and on the
night of August 22 he set
sail. He and his staff had
ridden down to the vessel on
horseback, for the mooring-
place lay off a desolate stretch
of beach several miles from his
camp; and when the aban-
doned horses galloped riderless
back to the lines at dead of
night, the secret was out.
The army was aghast, and
imprecations were heaped upon
the flying commander-in-chief,
who was considered to have
forsaken his faithful soldiers
when most they needed him.
General Kléber was left in
command, but though he was
popular with the soldiers he
did not inspire confidence on
every occasion, and the situa-
tion of the army was thus by
no means pleasant.

Bonaparte slunk along the African coast, and by the exercise of the utmost care the vessels managed to elude the English ships which had gone back to Cyprus for supplies, never thinking that Bonaparte would desert in this manner. Early in October, after playing the part of a hunted hare for six weeks, he landed in France once more, and was soon thrilling the members of the Directoire with the tales of his real and imaginary victories.

The story need not here be told of how the French army, abandoned in Egypt, was harried by Turks, Mamelukes, and Egyptians, how General Kléber was assassinated, and how at last they had to face a British expeditionary force which was landed near Alexandria

in

March 1801. It is only necessary to state that not long after the desperate battle named after that city, the whole army of 24,000 French troops with 312 guns surrendered to the 15,000 English troops which had been sent for their chastisement.

When Bonaparte heard the news of the capitulation of his army, his anguish is said to have been really genuine. "We have lost Egypt!" he cried. "My projects and my dreams have alike been destroyed by England."

Thus ended the French campaign in the Orient, and thus "the great adventure," as it is so often called, came to a conclusion. Historians are much inclined to forget the details of this amazing phase in the life of Bonaparte, and to gloss it over by laying stress on its inherent romance. The hero-worshipper does not enjoy a description of the wonderful Corsican in his role as an Eastern potentate, attributing divine powers to himself, rejecting Christianity, and incidentally cutting off people's heads. Yet it must always be remembered that it was England who hammered sense into Napoleon, and her guns that shattered his fantastic dreams of Oriental omnipotence. was England who sent the would be prophet back to Europe to begin his adventures anew; and when, instead of Sultan in the East, he had become Emperor in the West, it was England who terminated his second phase as she had his first. He left his marks,

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however, on Europe; but Egypt already in 1802 is said to have shown practically no sign of his treatment. His Oriental campaign was a failure through and through, and the impression made upon the quiet Egyptians by "the Great Sultan was absolutely nil.

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In the year 1907 a detachment of English troops was route-marching in the Delta, and, being somewhat short of provisions, halted near a small village in order to purchase a few chickens and pigeons. The Omdeh, or headman, hearing the news and thinking that the supplies were to be commandeered without payment, hurriedly sought amongst his papers until he had found a certain document preserved with care in a sealed envelope. With this in hand he made his way to the officer in command, and told him that the village was exempt from supplying food to the troops, this document being proof of his statement. The officer opened the envelope and found therein an order signed by one of Bonaparte's generals, stating that in return for services rendered to the French army the village was to be free from interference in future.

The Englishman smiled, and laid the document aside.

"This was made out by the French over a hundred years ago," he said to the Omdeh. "It is no longer valid."

The Egyptian shrugged his shoulders. "French or English," he replied, "now or then : it is all the same to us. are the same people."

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Mrs Berwick was sitting by the writing-table, her attitude vaguely struck him as woe-begone. She looked up as he entered, half startled, "Oh, Mr Wendern, I thought you had gone to Mrs Fiffer's.'

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He recovered his usual manner in a moment, save that a little more excitement than usual showed itself; his voice was almost gay as he answered, "I have just come I have just come from there."

"Mrs Fiffer was so anxious to see you," she said, and wondered what had happened.

He went towards the tea things, which were still in the room, hesitated, then poured some whisky into a glass, from the decanter that had been brought in for Lant, and swallowed it with a gulp. "Of course she was anxious. She wanted me to hear her newssplendid news. Mrs Fiffer said I was to tell you."

"News?" she gasped, "splendid news?"

"Yes," he laughed out. Mrs

Berwick had never heard him do that before," She's engaged to Derbyshire - excellent, isn't it?"

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"To Lord Derbyshire?" she was genuinely astonished. "Oh -oh, dear Mr Wendern, I hoped-I hoped—'

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"Never hope-wait for things that come your way and make the best of them."

66

'They never come to some people," she sighed, and hesitated, perplexed how to tell him of the other catastrophe that had fallen on the house.

"Quite true, but they've come to Derbyshire, he's good fellow-you must congratulate them. I shall have to get her a wedding-present. What shall it be a tiara? perhaps she'll collect them." He tried to laugh again.

She got up and stood looking at him, wondering, as Katherine had done, whether he were sane,-"Oh, it's too dreadful - it's too dreadful, everything comes at once," she said, and burst into tears.

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He was surprised and amused, it pulled him together. "My dear Mrs Berwick, this won't do look here, have whisky-no, tea is what women always want. Let me light the lamp." He went towards it and struck a match. "There

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