Rid of his prisoners, Napoleon moved forward on the Syrian coast and laid siege to St. Jean d’Acre. The town had strong, high walls, behind which were desperate defenders. The lesson from Jaffa had taught the Arab that it was death to surrender. To him, then, it was a stern necessity to conquer or die. The English were there to help. Sir Sidney Smith furnished guns, men to serve them, and skilled engineers. Napoleon was not properly equipped for the siege, for his battering train, on its way in transports, was stupidly lost by the captain in charge. Sir Sidney took it and appropriated it to the defence. In vain Napoleon lingered till days grew into weeks, weeks into months. He was completely baffled. There were many sorties, many assaults, dreadful loss of life, reckless deeds of courage done on both sides. Once, twice, the French breached the walls, made good their assault, and entered the town, once reaching Djezzar’s very palace. It was all in vain. Every house was a fortress, every street an ambuscade, every Arab a hero,--the very women frantically screaming “Fight!” With bitterness in his soul, Napoleon turned away: “that miserable hole has thwarted my destiny!” And he never ceased to ring the changes on the subject. Had he taken Acre, his next step would have been to the Euphrates; hordes of Asiatics would have flocked to his banner; the empire of Alexander would have risen again under his touch; India would have been his booty; Constantinople his prize; and then, from the rear, he would have trodden Europe into submission. He saw all this on the other side of Acre, or thought he saw it. But the town stood, and the château in Spain fell. Once he had been drawn from the siege to go toward Nazareth to the aid of Kléber, who was encompassed by an army outnumbering his own by ten to one. As Napoleon came within sight, he could see a tumultuous host of cavalry enveloping a small force of infantry. The throngs of horsemen surged and charged, wheeled and turned, like a tossing sea. In the midst was an island, a volcano belching fire. The tossing sea was the Mameluke cavalry; the island in the midst of it was Kléber. Forming so that his line, added to Kléber’s, would envelop the enemy, Napoleon advanced; and great was the rout and the slaughter of the foe. No organized force was left afield either in Syria or Egypt.