There is no more romantic phase of Napoleon’s career than that of his expedition to the sunny land of the Pharaohs. He has himself told us that “Imagination rules the world,” and although he was essentially practical by nature, a man who invariably worked out his plans to almost fractional details, whenever practicable, his ardent Southern temperament readily responded to the glow and glamour of the Orient. There history had been made, there history was to be made. He saw vast possibilities in the slumbering East, perhaps an awakening into prodigious activity under the rule of a military dictator with liberal ideas. He might revitalise Asia as he had revivified some of the moribund States of worn-out Europe. Briefly his object was to conquer Egypt, oust the British from India, where their rule was by no means consolidated, and on his return, crush the power of the Sultan. Everything seemed to favour him in engineering the machinery of this vast project. The scientists of France took up the scheme with avidity, and learned members of the Institute, to which he had been admitted in the place of Carnot, gave him the benefit of their researches.
The notion of the expedition was not a sudden inspiration, acted upon on the spur of the moment. So far back as the 10th August 1797, when affairs in Italy were still far from settled, Napoleon had mentioned the subject to the Directory, following it up by a lengthy letter a month later. He now reasoned it out, read travel books, examined maps, interrogated men of accurate knowledge, brooded over it in the solitude of the study, and mentally weighed the chances of success and failure. The scales turned in its favour, and Napoleon determined to rival the doings of Alexander.
Before long, extensive preparations were going on apace at Toulon, Genoa, Ajaccio, and Civita Vecchia. It was eminently necessary that Great Britain, which was still at war with France and had commanded the sea since the Tudor Navy had broken the giant power of Spain, should be deceived as to the destination of the fleets. As a subterfuge the so-called Army of England solemnly paraded, marched, and counter-marched. Those who were not in the secret thought the soldiers were awaiting the signal to embark for England, but it became evident as time passed that offensive operations against the English were not intended, some of the smartest battalions being gradually drafted into a newly-formed Army of Egypt. Everything was done with as much secrecy and celerity as possible; the meetings of the Directory, when the project was under discussion, were held with closed doors. It is significant that the cost was largely defrayed by plunder and forced contributions from the long-suffering Swiss.