n wishing us well as he formerly was in seeking to injure
us." Again he said, "The fact is that I not only never committed any
crime, but I never even thought of doing so. I have always marched with
the opinions of five or six millions of men. In spite of all the libels, I
have no fear whatever respecting my fame. Posterity will do me justice.
The truth will be known, and the good which I have done will be compared
with the faults which I have committed. I am not uneasy as to the result."

Baron Larrey was the chief of the medical staff. "Larrey," said Napoleon
to O'Meara, "was the most honest man, and the best friend to the soldier
whom I ever knew. Indefatigable in his exertions for the wounded, he was
seen on the field of battle, immediately after an action, accompanied by a
train of young surgeons, endeavoring to discover if any signs of life
remained in the bodies. He scarcely allowed a moment of repose to his
assistants, and kept them ever at their posts. He tormented the generals,
and disturbed them out of their beds at night, whenever he wanted
accommodations or assistance for the sick or wounded. They were all afraid
of him, as they knew that if his wishes were not complied with, he would
immediately come and make a complaint to me." Larrey, on his return to
Europe, published a medical work, which he dedicated to Napoleon as a
tribute due to him for the care which he always took of the sick and
wounded soldiers. Assulini, another eminent physician, records, "Napoleon,
great in every emergence, braved on several occasions the danger of
contagion. I have seen him in the hospitals at Jaffa, inspecting the
wards, and talking familiarly with the soldiers attacked by the plague.
This heroic example allayed the fears of the army, cheered the spirits of
the sick, and encouraged the hospital attendants, whom the progress of the
disease and the fear of contagion had considerably alarmed."

The march over the burning desert was long and painful, and many of the
sick and wounded perished. The sufferings of the army were inconceivable.
Twelve hundred persons, faint with disease, or agonized with broken bones
or ghastly wounds, were borne along, over the rough and weary way, on
horseback. Many were so exhausted with debility and pain that they were
tied to the saddles, and were thus hurried onward, with limbs freshly
amputated and with bones shivered to splinters. The path of the army was
marked by the bodies of the dead, whi