A week later, in Cairo, the news of the French landing reached the ears of Egypt's leaders, Murad Bey and Ibrahim Bey. As they gathered in their council chamber, a mamluk scout knelt before them, ready to divulge the details of the invasion.
With a grave expression, the scout recounted the events that unfolded in Alexandria. He spoke of the French forces' swift entry into the city, their encounter with the Mamluk general, Koraim Pasha, and the fierce battle that ensued. The scout's words carried a sense of urgency and disbelief as he described the devastating power of the weapons wielded by the French.
"That's ridiculous," Ibrahim Bey said.
"Forgive me, esteemed leaders, but the truth surpasses any exaggeration," the scout clarified, addressing Ibrahim Bey's raised eyebrow. "These weapons possessed by the French are unlike anything we have ever witnessed. They strike with lethal accuracy from great distances, and their rapid-fire capabilities unleash a hailstorm of bullets within mere seconds."
Murad Bey and Ibrahim Bey exchanged concerned glances, as the weight of this revelation sank in. They had not anticipated the French invasion of Alexandria, and the fact that they possessed advanced weaponry beyond their comprehension only deepened their apprehension.
"We must prepare ourselves, my brothers," Murad Bey declared. "We must defend this city, and also we have to inform the Ottomans of the sudden invasion of the French Army."
Ibrahim Bey nodded in agreement. "Send a messenger to Constantinople immediately. Inform the Ottoman authorities of the dire situation we face and request their support."
As the orders were given, messengers swiftly departed from Cairo, carrying urgent letters that would cross the vast distances to reach the Ottoman capital. Hours later, Murad Bey and Ibrahim Bey began planning the defenses of Cairo against the French. Though the claims of the scout about the French weapons were alarming, Murad Bey and Ibrahim Bey were determined not to let fear cloud their judgment.
In the middle of the planning, one Mamluk soldier entered the room with a paper in his hand.
"Ibrahim Pasha, Murad Pasha! You have to see this! It's a proclamation that is being spread in the city," the Mamluk soldier informed.
Murad took the letter from the soldier and read the contents. Ibrahim leaned over to read along, his eyes scanning the words of the proclamation. As they absorbed its contents, a mix of surprise and intrigue flickered across their faces.
"For too long the beys who govern Egypt have insulted the French nation and covered their traders in slanders. The hour of their punishment has come," Murad read aloud.
Ibrahim's brows furrowed as he continued to read silently, taking in the bold claims and promises contained within the proclamation. The words resonated with a sense of power and authority, yet also carried an air of uncertainty. They spoke of restoring rights, punishing usurpers, and respecting God, his prophet, and the Quran. Murad and Ibrahim exchanged glances, their thoughts intermingling.
"This proclamation speaks of restoring rights and proclaiming equality," Ibrahim remarked, breaking the silence. "It claims that they are true friends of Muslims and champions against those who have wronged them."
Murad nodded, his gaze fixed on the proclamation. "It also mentions their destruction of the Knights of Malta and their defiance against those who would wage war on Muslims. They seek to establish themselves as allies to the Great Lord and enemies to his enemies."
As the weight of the words settled upon them, Murad and Ibrahim realized the potential impact of this proclamation on the people of Egypt. It carried a message that resonated with the grievances many had held against the Mamluk rulers. Not to mention the fact that the proclamation is well-written as if a local Egyptian wrote it.
"Where is this letter coming from?" Murad asked.
"They are coming from the Mamluks that fought the French in Alexandria. According to them, they were told to spread these papers in Egypt in exchange for them not being taken as a prisoner."
Murad and Ibrahim exchanged worried glances.
"This proclamation is an insidious attempt to manipulate the people and turn them against us," Ibrahim declared with a firm tone. "We cannot allow these falsehoods to poison the minds of the Egyptians. Every paper spreading these lies must be destroyed, and the people must be made aware of the French's true intentions. We must emphasize that the French lack morals and that they will not hesitate to slaughter anyone, Egyptians and Turks alike."
"Understood, Ibrahim Pasha."
"As for you, Murad. Once the defense of Egypt is completed, why don't you assemble forces and try to push out the French? Gather as many men as you can. Find out if our troops are telling the truth."
"Very well."
***
July 10th, 1798.
In Alexandria, the local population remained apprehensive and nervous about their new occupiers, the French. French soldiers roamed the streets, maintaining order and establishing their presence. The initial chaos and resistance had subsided, leaving the city in an uneasy calm. The wary locals watched the movements of the French troops with cautious eyes.ραпdαs `n?ν?| сom
Amidst the tense atmosphere, French troops continued unloading their war machines, including artillery, cannons, horses, gunpowder, and mobile labs for scholarly study and experimentation.
Napoleon walked along with Dumas and Kleber, who had a bandage wrapped around his forehead from a previous encounter.
"Is your forehead healing well, Kleber? I still can't believe that musket ball didn't end your life," Napoleon chortled.
"There's nothing funny about it, General Bonaparte," Kleber replied, annoyed at Napoleon's banter.
Dumas chimed in, seeking to lighten the mood. "Well, it's understandable that you survived that shot, Kleber. After all, the Mamluks are armed with century-old muskets, while we possess the latest and possibly the most advanced rifles in the world."
Napoleon chuckled as he wiped the sweat off his forehead. The hot weather reminded him of the challenges faced during the failed French conquest of Egypt and Syria. However, thanks to the newly designed uniforms that could better endure the harsh climate, the French soldiers did not suffer as much from the heat as their historical counterparts.
As they strolled through the streets, the trio of French leaders came across a small group of French scholars engaged in a passionate discussion.
"I'm astounded... Is this Alexandria? Where have the palaces, temples, and exquisite artifacts gone? Our hopes were so high, but I must admit, I'm deeply disappointed," one of the scholars expressed their frustration.
"I share your sentiments, my friend," another scholar added. "This doesn't match the Egypt we have learned about from ancient texts and stories. It seems as though the once-glorious Alexandria has lost its former splendor."
"And the people, they all wear rags."
Napoleon overheard their conversation and approached the scholars with a smile, displaying a genuine interest in their sentiments.
"Gentlemen, may I join your discussion?" he asked, inviting himself into their conversation.
The scholars turned to face the French general, surprise evident on their faces. One of them, an elderly man with a wise demeanor, nodded respectfully. "Of course, General. We were just expressing our disappointment at the current state of Alexandria. It pales in comparison to the grandeur we have read about."
"I see…" Napoleon hummed aloud. He understood their frustrations, after all, they were excited to see Egypt which had once flourished as one of the greatest civilizations in history. Napoleon shared their sentiment to some extent, for the reality of Alexandria did not match the legendary tales of its past glory.
"Well…maybe Cairo would be different right?" One of the scholars said, sounding optimistic.
Napoleon could only sigh, as he knew they'll be met with disappointment again.
"General Bonaparte!" a voice called out, catching Napoleon's attention. It was Murat, who was hightailing down the sandy streets of Alexandria. He halted his horse in front of Napoleon and spoke urgently.
"General... you are needed in the command tent," Murat informed, his voice filled with a sense of urgency.
Napoleon, Dumas, and Kleber exchanged quick glances before hurrying after Murat. Five minutes later, they arrived at the command tent, which had been set up in the heart of the city. Inside was filled with the clicking of the keys as telegraph operators communicated with their scouts that were sent to Cairo for reconnaissance.
"Tell me the situation," Napoleon leaned forward, scanning the map spread on the tabletop.
"News has arrived from Cairo, indicating that the Mamluks are fortifying their defenses. There are reports of increased troop movements, with Mamluk forces mobilizing under the command of one of the Beys, Murad Bey," Berthier reported.
"Murad Bey is the one who holds command of the Mamluk Army. We kill that man, Cairo will be in our hands," Napoleon declared. "I assume most of our equipment is unloaded from the ships?"
"That is correct, General Bonaparte," Berthier confirmed.
"In that case, prepare for a march tomorrow."
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