he foresaw the long results depending upon the issue of the
conflict. Utter defeat would be to him utter ruin. A partial victory would
but prolong the conflict, and render it impossible for him, without
dishonor, to abandon Egypt and return to France. The entire destruction of
his foes would enable him, with the renown of an invincible conqueror, to
leave the army in safety and embark for Paris, where he doubted not that,
in the tumult of the unsettled times, avenues of glory would be opened
before him. So strongly was he impressed with the great destinies for
which he believed himself to be created, that, turning to Murat, he said,
"This battle will decide the fate of the world." The distinguished cavalry
commander, unable to appreciate the grandeur of Napoleon's thoughts,
replied, "At least of this army. But every French soldier feels now that
he must conquer or die. And be assured, if ever infantry were charged to
the teeth by cavalry, the Turks shall be to-morrow so charged by mine."

The first gray of the morning was just appearing in the East, when the
Turkish army was aroused by the tramp of the French columns, and by a
shower of bomb-shells falling in the midst of their intrenchments. One of
the most terrible battles recorded in history then ensued. The awful
genius of Napoleon never shone forth more fearfully than on that bloody
day. He stood upon a gentle eminence, calm, silent, unperturbed, pitiless,
and guided, with resistless skill, the carnage. The onslaught of the
French was like that of wolves. The Turks were driven like deer before
them. Every man remembered that in that bay the proud fleet of France had
perished. Every man felt that the kings of Europe had banded for the
destruction of the French Republic. Every man exulted in the thought that
there were but six thousand French Republicans to hurl themselves upon
England, Russia, and Turkey combined, nearly twenty thousand strong. The
Turks, perplexed and confounded by the skill and fury of the assault, were
driven in upon each other in horrible confusion. The French, trained to
load and fire with a rapidity which seemed miraculous, poured in upon them
a perfect hurricane of bullets, balls, and shells. They were torn to
pieces, mown down, bayoneted, and trampled under iron hoofs. In utter
consternation, thousands of them plunged into the sea, horsemen and
footmen, and struggled in the waves, in the insane attempt to swim to the
ships, three miles distant