progress, Captain Hardy sailed into the port of Alexandria with the Mutine. He was at first mistaken for a Frenchman. Even when this error was cleared up, Muhammad Kuraiym, the commandant of the city, who came to ask what were the Englishman's intentions, refused to accept their assistance against the French. Distrusting all Europeans alike, he cagily pretended ignorance. "It is impossible" he told them. In Kuraiym's particular case, the Englishman's prophecy assuredly proved accurate. It may be said with equal assurance that it was not Kuraiym's impotent defiance which kept the English from anchoring outside the harbor. Yet, unless Niquwlah al-Turkiyy (Nicholas the Turk) invented this conversation out of whole cloth, a puzzling question arises. If the English thought that there was a chance of the French fleet reaching Alexandria after they themselves did (and this possibility is implied in Hardy's exchange with Kuraiym), why did not Nelson wait off Alexandria for at least a couple of days? What made him give up so suddenly his conviction, expressed in dispatch after dispatch, that Egypt and India were the goals of the French? For lack of a better explanation, one must assume that the motive was more psychological than strategic: in the heat of the chase, he could not bring himself to idle away two days at a standstill and risk the chance of his prey escaping in another direction.

In any event, when the English left on June 29, the tricolor was still flying atop the house of the French consul, Magallon, a nephew of the Charles Magallon who perhaps had done more than any other man to instigate the expedition and who, at the moment, was aboard
L'Orient.

On June 27, after nightfall, the frigate La Junon was ordered to the stern of L'Orient. "It would be difficult", says Denon, who was aboard the frigate, to convey an exact idea of what we felt as we approached that inner sanctum of power, dictating its orders amidst 300 sail, in the mystery and silence of the night, with only the moon lighting the spectacle just enough to let us take it in. We were about 500 of us on deck; one could have heard the buzzing of a fly. (1) Ordered aboard the flagship, the captain of the frigate received his instructions: he was to sail to Alexandria, reconnoiter the defenses, pick up the French consul, and bring him back. La Junon set off immediately; she sighted the coast of Egypt on the 29th at dawn, in the afternoon of the same day, the French frigate set ahead by Bonaparte, entered the harbor of Alexandria. 

The view did not cheer the troops. "Look!" a wit among them remarked to his neighbor, pointing at the dismal, barren coast, "There are the six acres of land they've promised you" (2) At 1 p.m., the frigate reached Alexandria and anchored several miles offshore. A lieutenant was dispatched in a launch to fetch the consul; while waiting for his return, Denon sketched the distant view of the fort, the mosques and minarets of the city. As he drew, he indulged himself in daydreams of Alexandria's past glories daydreams soon to be dispelled by the realities of a small town whose population had shrunk to about 6,000. The emissary and the consul having returned about midnight, La Junon set sail. When, at 7 a.m. the following day, she pulled alongside L'Orient, the calm weather had given way to a brisk north wind which soon became a gale. The French fleet, both warships and transports, was bobbing on the waves in chaotic confusion. Magallon and Denon went aboard the flagship to report to Bonaparte. The main news, of course, was that the English squadron had just left Alexandria and might be prowling in the neighborhood. Bonaparte's countenance, so Denon assures us, remained unaltered.

Although the French armada stunned the people of Alexandria by its hugeness when it hove in sight, its appearance in itself caused little surprise. Reports of the capture of Malta had preceded it, and, as Brueys reported to the Minister of Marine, "the population was in a state of ferment and apprehension (3), There had been a general rush to arms; repairs were made on the moth-eaten fortifications; there were scarcely any soldiers, but a militia was formed, and the Mamluwk al-kashif of al-Bihayrah Province rounded up some Bedouin tribes to assist in the defense: all these measures were more frenzied than effectual. 

On the following day-July 1-the armada sighted Pompey's Pillar, which then was the outstanding landmark of Alexandria. The proximity of the English fleet forced an immediate choice upon Bonaparte: either he must land his army that very day or he must seek safety in one or both of the city's harbors. It was clear from the younger Magallon's report that a landing in Alexandria itself was out of the question without a battle. The fleet might fight its way into one of the harbors, but only at great risk, the approaches to both ports being narrow and tricky, especially in heavy weather; there was a danger that the battleships might run aground. The alternative a landing east or west of Alexandria-presented equal difficulties. The ideal landing place was Abuw Qiyr Bay, about fifteen miles to the east. To land there, however, would waste precious time, because of the distance, and it was exactly the spot where the enemy would expect a landing. The beach of Marabuwt, a fishing village about eight miles to the west, was preferable from the landlubber's point of view, but not from the seaman's. Admiral Brueys raised vehement objections to it. The operation could not begin before afternoon and would take all night; the sea was ugly; the coast and coastal waters were uncharted. It would be better not to land the same day but to wait until the following morning, since Nelson was not likely to return for some time.

While the French fleet was still off Alexandria, casting terror into the hearts of those ashore, the Turkish commander of a caravel that was anchored in the port sent an officer to L'Orient with a gift of two sheep and an inquiry as to what the French were doing there. The Turk was handed a copy of the Arabic proclamation, already printed, addressed to the people of Egypt (see attached picture on the right). He shook his head; he could not read Arabic, he said (probably he could not read Turkish either); the proclamation was translated for him by Venture. At every disobliging mention of the Mamaliyk beys, the visitor leaped with joy; he requested more copies of the proclamation to distribute, consumed quantities of coffee and sweets, and left with a letter from Bonaparte to his commander. "I shall be in Alexandria tomorrow', wrote the General. "You need not fear anything. You belong to our great friend, the Sultan: act accordingly. But, if you display the least hostility toward the French army, I shall treat you as an enemy, and you will be to blame for it, for it is far from my heart's intentions to do so." (5) It is doubtful whether the Turkish commander was impressed with Bonaparte's sincerity, but he kept his own counsel and did nothing.

The landing operations off al-Murabit beach began about noon. Of the five divisions that made up the army, those commanded by Desaix, Menou, and Reynier were on transports, anchored about three miles offshore; the divisions commanded by Kléber and Bon were on the battleships, forming an arc at about twice that distance from the beach. The approaches to the shore were obstructed by rocks and reefs; the sea grew steadily worse, and it was eight o'clock when the first troops reached land. The operation turned out a night-long inferno. Many of the soldiers had to be lowered into the launches and longboats by ropes. The sea was covered with capsized boats, and the screams of the men could be heard above the noise of the waves; very few of the men could swim; everybody-soldiers, sailors, and marines-was desperately seasick. Some of the boats took eight hours to row three miles. It seems a miracle that only nineteen men were drowned; this, at least, is the figure given by Bonaparte, who may have minimized it.
 
 

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