Bonaparte in Egypt and the Egyptians of To-day

Finding his hope of an early return to Europe thus shattered, Kleber took the only line of action open to him, and showed his ability as a general by immediately re-entering the forts around the city which the Turks, finding a residence in the town itself more in accordance with their ideas of comfort, had neglected to occupy. This done, he hastened to attack the Turkish army, which was encamped at Materiah, some five miles from the town, and taking it by surprise and wholly unprepared for action, believing itself in peaceful and unthreatened possession of the country, routed it with ease and without loss. This attack was naturally regarded as a most treacherous one by the Turks and Egyptians, for until the French had actually opened fire upon the Turks these had remained in careless security without the least suspicion that anything could occur to bring them into conflict with the French. But it is quite impossible to blame Kleber. For the French an early and complete victory was now a matter of life and death. To have given the Turks an opportunity of attacking them in the forts around Cairo would have been suicidal madness. With no possibility of relief they could only have held out against a siege until the sickness and famine that were bound to assail them should have accomplished the work of the enemy more effectually than its military strength could.

As the time fixed for the evacuation had approached the excitement in the town had increased, but when the French re-seized the forts and gave other proofs of a sudden activity in a new and, to the Egyptians, wholly inexplicable direction, rumours of the wildest kind were circulated. Of these the one that gained most credence was that the French had discovered it to be the intention of the Turks and the English to surround and massacre them while on their way to the coast. Utterly false as this report was, the outbreak of hostilities between the French and the Turks gave it such apparent verification, that there are not a few of the Egyptians who still believe it.

The Turkish army, utterly discomfited by the French, after having made but a poor defence, took the road towards Syria, with the exception of a part which, finding itself between the French and the town, decided to seek the shelter of the latter. With these were a number of Mamaluk Beys and their followers, who at the first news of the arrival of the Turks had hastened to join them. The Turks who thus entered the town were under the command of Nasooh Pacha, a bigot and fanatic of high rank but little ability. His arrival was greeted by the assembling of a crowd of all the worst characters of the town, who flocked after him as he made his way through the streets, anxious to learn the truth as to what had happened. His first act was to give a general but definite order for the massacre of all the Christians.

We have seen how at the last meeting of the Mamaluk Dewan, and again at Rosetta, proposals to massacre the Christians had been rejected. Now, however, there was no question of a proposal, but a distinct and definite order was given by a Pacha, a Turk, an orthodox Moslem, a high officer of the Empire, and one who at the moment carried with him all the weight of being the immediate representative of the Sultan and Caliph of Islam. Those of the people to whom the order was given were of the lowest and most ignorant class, precisely the one to which such an order might be expected to be welcome, people having nothing to risk but their personal safety, and thinking little of this as weighed against the prospect of a rich harvest of loot. A wild rush was made, therefore, for the Christian quarters of the town, the mob slaying on its way the few Christians who happened to be overtaken by it and unable to escape. Hastily barricading their doors and windows the Christians made a bold stand, and the mob, which was much more anxious to plunder the houses than to slaughter their inhabitants, devoted their unwelcome attentions to the least protected of these, and troubling nothing as to whether the houses attacked were those of Christians or Moslems, were busily engaged in their work of destruction when the quarters in which they were, were swept by Turkish troops, who, without staying to expostulate or explain, quickly routed the rioters with much heavier slaughter than these had been guilty of, and charging them, more ruthlessly and more effectively than they had charged the Christians, promptly restored order. This vigorous suppression of the riot and intended massacre was the work of Osman Agha, an officer of the Turkish army who, though of less degree than Nasooh Pacha, had no sooner heard of the riot than he protested not merely by word of mouth, but by the more practical measure of despatching troops in hot haste with strict orders to spare none of the rioters that did not at once desist. Thus once more the Christians found Moslem protectors ready to defend them against Moslem foes. We shall see later on how the Christians showed their gratitude.

The riot having been thus promptly suppressed, the Turkish officers turned their attention to the defence of the town from the attack by the French, which they rightly judged would not long be delayed. A hurried survey of the available means of defence showed that these were of the poorest. Gunpowder and munitions of all kinds were deficient in quantity and defective in quality, but there was no thought of submission to the coming foe, and, directed by the troops, the people were set to work once more to barricade the entrances to the town. The memories of the sufferings that had accompanied and followed the great revolt against the French were still vivid in the minds of the people, but their enthusiasm was as great as it had been while yet the horrors of a siege were unknown to and undreamt of by them. Some of the Mamaluk chiefs, seeing how woefully the town was deficient in the things most urgently needed to enable it to make a stand, were anxious to withdraw, but neither the Turkish troops nor the people would consent to their doing so, and they had perforce to remain and take their part in the defence.

Fighting was commenced by an attack upon the house of Elfi Bey, in the Esbekieh quarter, which Bonaparte having chosen as his residence was still in the occupation of the French. One day's firing having exhausted the supply of cannon-ball, the defect was made good for the moment by charging the guns with metal weights collected from the shops in the bazaars, and such other missiles as could be found. Under the direction of Osman Agha, shot and powder factories were established, and all the craftsmen of the town whose skill could be applied to the manufacture of defensive arms or materials were put to work to provide what was needed, or the best substitute that could be improvised. Being unable to ascertain anything of the movements or intentions of the French, the chiefs decided that it was imperatively necessary to be ready for an assault upon the town at any moment. Orders were given, therefore, that all the townsmen as well as the troops were to take up positions behind or near the barricades, and were to remain on the spot day and night, sleeping as best they could at their posts.

For eight days the fighting was continued in this way, the firing being confined to the north-west end of the town, or that facing the position occupied by the French. On the eighth day the return of General Kleber, who had been in pursuit of the flying Turkish army, brought about a change. With the troops he had with him, and those already in garrison, he had a force quite equal to the siege of the town in regular form, and he lost no time in surrounding the two towns, Cairo and Boulac, as Gabarty expresses it, "as a bracelet encircles the arms." Thenceforth the siege was carried on with vigour. Amply provided with arms and ammunition, the French poured a ceaseless hail of shot and shell upon the towns, not only from the forts around, but also from the heights of the Mokattam hills, which command the greater part of the city of Cairo.

For ten days and nights the siege and bombardment went on unceasingly. For ten days and nights the people and the troops were without any rest worthy of the name, and the long strain was beginning to tell upon their energies. To add to the horrors of the bombardment under which the buildings of the town were steadily crumbling away and filling the streets with their ruins, not only was death busy, but hunger and thirst were beginning to assail the living. Food was not only scarce, but what there was was ruthlessly appropriated by the Turkish troops, and the water was not only short but bad. Still, all ranks kept manfully to their task, and while the lower classes laboured cheerfully at what work there was for them to do, in clearing the streets of the wreckage that threatened to block them entirely, and in attending upon the troops, carrying ammunition to and fro as needed, and so on, the highest of the Turks and Egyptians moved constantly among them, encouraging them and bidding them hope for the best. Of the Christians many had escaped from the town to seek shelter with the French, in whose ultimate triumph they had the fullest and withal most justifiable confidence. Of those that remained in the town, not a few lent what aid they could to its defence, partly to conciliate the mob and partly no doubt in recognition of the protection given them by the leaders of the people, as evidence of their loyalty to the Sultan, and as the line of conduct most likely to conduce to their own interests. Many who under the Mamaluks had grown wealthy and under the French had escaped having to bear anything like their fair share of the burthens laid upon the people, now bid for popularity by contributing funds towards the defence. But the steadily growing weakness of their position, the exhaustion of the people and the troops, and the prospect of an utter failure of food and other supplies compelled the leaders to think of making terms with the French while they were yet in a position to profit from whatever concessions they could obtain. And the French knowing pretty well how things were going in the city, and having no desire for useless bloodshed, made repeated offers to treat. But the people would hear nothing of a surrender, and nothing of treating for terms. They had had enough of the French, and would have no more of them, if by any means, by any sacrifice, they could get rid of them. The Turkish Vizier with his army was sure to come to their relief soon, and perhaps the English, for were not the English the enemies of the French? And Mourad Bey with a large force of Mamaluks and troops was not far off, and he too must come sooner or later to their aid. So they would rather starve and thirst and suffer until help came; and besides, was it not evident that the French must be nearly exhausted? if not, why did they offer terms?

At last the chiefs took action for themselves, and a deputation of Sheikhs was sent out to the French headquarters to treat for terms.

Kleber received the deputation courteously, but reproached them for having taken the part of the Turks, and given these their aid and support. The Sheikhs very justly replied that they had but followed the advice he had himself given them when announcing the approaching departure of the French. Eventually it was agreed that there should be a truce of three days to enable the Turkish troops and all who cared to go with them to leave the town. "As to the people," said Kleber, "they have nothing to fear; are they not our people?" Full of hope and joy at the result of their mission, the Sheikhs returned to report what they believed would be accepted as good news by the famine-stricken garrison. But far from accepting the terms offered, the people insulted the Sheikhs and denounced them as traitors. "If," said they, "the Christian dogs were not at the end of their resources they would not be so ready to make peace." So fighting was resumed, and carried on on both sides with vigour until the 25th of April.

Boulac was the first to fall. A heavy thunderstorm had broken over the devoted towns, and torrents of rain had quickly converted their unpaved streets into quagmires, that rendered walking almost impossible. With abundance of skill and material at their disposal, and in robust health and spirits, the French had every advantage over the famished, exhausted and undisciplined mob that had so long faced them at such desperate odds, yet it was but foot by foot only that they succeeded in forcing their way to victory through streets heaped with the bodies of the slain.

It was a heroic fight, that of this poor famine-pinched, undisciplined mob against the well-fed, well-clothed veterans of France. Strange that our friends the historians, who are always so impartial and free from bigotry and fanaticism, can see in this desperate defence nothing more than the contumacy of an ignorant and foolish people. Strange, for, after all, "how can man die better than facing fearful odds, for the ashes of his fathers, and the temples of their gods?" For this in the very literal sense of the words was what these poor starving Egyptians were doing, it being not the least of their complaints against the French that these had desecrated the graveyards of the city, and defiled the temple in which they worshipped God.

A wild carnival of pillage and brutality followed the fall of the town, and then the troops that had been investing Boulac turned with revived appetite to assist in the siege of Cairo. There, as at Boulac, the scarcity of food and water, and the want of proper rest and shelter, had reduced the people to a condition that would have justified their abandoning the hopeless struggle without further effort; yet it was not the people, but their chiefs – the Mamaluk Beys and the Turkish officers – men whose experience told them how unavailing the attempt to hold out must prove, that spoke or thought of treating with the foe. They had, as we have seen, already made an effort in that direction, now, finding the French gradually gaining ground, pushing their way slowly but surely into the town and, to add fresh terrors to those by which the unhappy defenders were almost overwhelmed, firing the houses as fast as they could reach them, the chiefs once more asked for terms, and were accorded three days in which to quit the town. Even then the people would have refused to yield, and it was with difficulty that their leaders at last forced from them a sullen and unwilling submission. Kleber, in addition to granting the Turks and Mamaluks three days within which to evacuate the town, undertook to supply funds and transport to enable them to go, but demanded the exchange of hostages. All who wished were to be free to depart with the retiring troops. These were liberal terms, but still the people were unwilling to submit, and when the French hostages arrived they had to be protected by a large body of the Turkish troops, and even Osman Agha himself, who throughout the siege had been foremost in the defence, and ever where danger was thickest, even he had to seek protection from the wrath of the mob that still furiously cried out against the admission of the French.

At length, peace and order having been restored, the Turks and Mamaluks made haste to leave the town, and a general amnesty having been proclaimed, Cairo was once more treated to a grand triumphal entry of the French, and was once more directed to decorate and illuminate itself in token of rejoicing.

For the third time the people settled down to bear the rule of the French with what patience they could, and, in the manner that still characterises their daily lives, the quarrel of the moment having been abandoned, they let it sleep and went about their affairs as much as possible as if nothing had ever occurred to interrupt them. Not that they were in the least reconciled to the French, or that they had ceased to long for redemption from the slavery in which they were held. Far from that, but loyal to the terms they had accepted, they desisted from all open or, indeed, covert opposition. It would have been unreasonable to ask or expect more than this. So the truce having once been made the French, though they did not think so, were absolutely safe from any molestation or annoyance from the people who, as a body, with all their faults, fear God, and, obeying the law of Islam, observe their covenants even when made with an enemy.

One might have thought that this people, who had so strenuously resisted the making of peace, who had turned against the most trusted of their own leaders for accepting terms, who, in the hope of rendering peace impossible, had frantically attempted to attack the hostages – one might have thought that this people would have repudiated the terms, and have sought every opportunity to injure and annoy the French. Nor could they with any reason have been held altogether blamable in refusing to abide by terms made in direct opposition to their wishes. Yet this is, as I have said, just what they did not do, and peace once established, the French went about among them as safe and as free from molestation as though the people had no grievance against them.

Let us turn now and see how the French interpreted the amnesty they had accorded the people.

CHAPTER XIV

THE PRICE OF PEACE

"They have nothing to fear; are they not our people?"

Was it possible for the people of Cairo to have any better assurance than these words of General Kleber, that the "Aman," or amnesty, that was so loudly proclaimed and, by the French, so enthusiastically celebrated, was to be the full and free "Aman" which alone is understood by Oriental peoples? One would have thought not, but the Cairenes were to learn differently. They were to be taught that "amnesty" is a word which, like so many others, may be interpreted in varying senses, and that it has no other meaning than that which the user chooses to accord to it.

Among the rejoicings for the great victory of a strong, well-supplied, and well-nourished army of well-trained and disciplined veterans over a famished, half-naked, wholly undisciplined, and almost wholly exhausted mob of civilians, there had been, among other things, a great banquet, to which all the notables of the town were invited, and at which they were received by Kleber in a gracious manner – so gracious, indeed, that they went away full of pleasant dreams for the future. General Kleber had taken the opportunity to invite a number of the Ulema to meet him on the following Friday morning, and believing that it was his intention, as indeed he had declared it to be, to discuss with them the revival of the Dewan and other matters, they did not fail to appear punctually at the appointed time, some of them looking forward to receiving some recognition of their services in the promotion of peace. Arrived at the General's, they were not long in learning that the gala costume with which they had honoured the occasion was most unhappily inappropriate.

As a first intimation of the vanity of their hopes they were kept waiting in an ante-chamber until their patience was almost exhausted. At length Kleber entered, and without any words of welcome or apology straightway proceeded once more to censure them for having allied themselves with the Turks. When the Sheikhs once more protested that they had done so under his own instructions, given at the time that he had announced the approaching departure of the French, he blamed them for not having suppressed the "insurrection." They replied that this was wholly out of their power, and that those who, as he was aware, had made an effort to stop the fighting had been rudely treated, and even roughly handled, by the people. But it was the old story of the wolf and the lamb. Kleber was determined to bring the Sheikhs in guilty in any case, and upbraided them with being double-faced. This was not what the poor Sheikhs, who had honestly done their best in the cause of peace, had expected as the reward of their efforts, or as the natural sequence of the courtesies extended to them at the banquet. All this, however, was but the preface to the announcement of what was, in fact, the real object of their being summoned to meet the General. This was nothing less than the seizing the Sheikhs as hostages for the payment by the city of an enormous indemnity and the infliction of exorbitant fines upon each of five of the leading Sheikhs. While yet the Sheikhs, dumbfoundered by this novel interpretation of the word "amnesty," were trying to assure themselves that they were not the victims of an ill-timed jest, the General left the room as abruptly as he had entered it, and the Sheikhs found that they were prisoners.

When at length, late in the evening, the sorely-troubled Sheikhs had recovered somewhat from the consternation into which they had been thrown by the General's treatment of them, and the extravagance of the demand he had made, they proceeded to draw up classified lists of the inhabitants of the town and fix the sums that each class was to contribute towards the payment of the indemnity. As a basis upon which to allot the debt householders were assessed at a year's rent, and every trade, business, and industry in the town, down to the street musicians, jesters, and jugglers, was called upon to pay its share. This done the Sheikhs were, with the exception of a few who were to be imprisoned until they had paid the special fines inflicted upon them, released, but under military guard. Among those imprisoned was the Sheikh el Sadat, the Chief of the Shereefs, or descendants of the Prophet, upon whom a fine of 500,000 dollars had been imposed.

Then began the darkest days in the history of the country. Thenceforth tyranny and torture of every kind was adopted to force the payment of the indemnity, and all that the superior civilisation of France had to offer the wretched people to whom they had accorded an "amnesty," and whom they termed "our people," was the introduction of refinements in the tortures inflicted upon them, such as the bringing of the wife of the Sheikh el Sadat to witness the tortures inflicted upon her husband.

Historians glide lightly over this part of their story, and being perforce compelled to mention some of these incidents, are not ashamed to stoop to the contemptible excuse that such things were "the custom of the East," that the French were only availing themselves of the means that would have been employed against themselves in like case. Indeed, this was the excuse the French offered at the time. "Living in the East," said Vigo Roussillon, one of those present at the massacre of the Turkish prisoners at Jaffa, "we adopted the morals of the East."

There is an old chemical experiment in which the mixing of two coloured fluids produces a clear, transparent one, but no such experiment is possible in morality. Evil-doing is evil-doing, and neither the casuistry of the Jesuits nor the art of man can make it good or right doing. I myself believe that all evil eventually produces good – "That every cloud that spreads above and veileth love, itself is love;" but that affords no excuse for evil-doing. Nor could the French have found a falser or more barren excuse than this one. It is true that in the East, as in the West, tyranny and torture had been for ages the tools of tyrants, but those tyrants had in using those tools done so ignorantly and stupidly because they knew no better. They acted upon the natural impulse of men who knew no law but that of force, no right but that of the sword, no morality but their own pleasure, and as the circumstances and conditions of the times seemed to them to dictate. They had no sense of doing evil. To them there was no other way of influencing men against their wills save by physical or mental pain, and they acted accordingly. It was quite otherwise with the French. They, with a perfect knowledge of what they were doing, did this evil, knowing it to be evil, and they did it deliberately, not in a moment of anger but with cool, thoughtful determination, and all the sophistry in the world cannot free them from the degradation and dishonour of having done so. But we must remember that Europe in that day, greatly as it had advanced in civilisation, was still far behind the point it has since reached, and that if the French are to be censured for what they did in Egypt it is not because we in England were incapable of evil; nay, what, after all, was the torture inflicted upon the Sheikh el Sadat to that inflicted by the law of England on a mere boy sentenced to be flogged once a fortnight for two years? or to the flogging of a seaman "round the fleet" that was so often carried out long after? For sheer brutality and gross wanton inhumanity the world has scarcely any record that can approach that of the "Holy Office," but the records of England's prisons are not far behind, and leave us no room for anything but shame and humility on the score of our humanity in the past. It is not therefore to picture the French as monsters of iniquity that I have spoken of this matter, but as the natural reply of the Egyptian when he is accused, as he so often is, of ingratitude and want of appreciation of the blessings that we good, kind-hearted Europeans have so generously bestowed upon him. To the European critic of Egypt and its affairs the benefits conferred upon the country and its people by the introduction of European civilisation are so great and so many as to overshadow and hide all else. Unfortunately it is not so to the Egyptian. He knows only too well that there has been a reverse side to the picture that the European draws. The evils of which I have been speaking have long since passed away, but they have left a trail of bitter feeling that still survives. Some of the most prominent of the Egyptian citizens of Cairo to-day are the direct descendants of the men who suffered so severely under the French. Would it be human in them to forget that to the present day they are sufferers from the ills their immediate ancestors had to bear? And yet these men, true to the traditions of their families, are to-day as they were in the time of the French, the men most ready to give a cordial welcome to all real progress – men who, though they cannot forget the past, are content to bury its bitterness and who fully recognise that the Europe of to-day is not altogether the same thing as the Europe of a century ago.