… On 21 May, the assault (on Danzig) was to take place.
The enormous palisades of the bastion moat had resisted the effects of the gunpowder. The guns that raked them only tore them apart, and they had to be knocked down by digging up the earth beside them. A wide passage was opened, but there was still one obstacle. Enormous rolling bales, suspended by ropes from the top of the embankment, were to be dropped at the moment of the assault and carry away everything they encountered in their path. A soldier from the light infantry volunteered to cut the ropes. He did so heroically, to the acclaim of the entire army. By a kind of miracle, it was only on the way down that a shot hit him and broke his arm.
The troops were just awaiting the signal, everything was ready, when a counter-order suspended the preparations. General Lacoste, who had entered Danzig the day before as a representative of the government, began to discuss the surrender of the place.
At noon on 25 May, the posts of Oliva, Jacob, Neugarten and the Hagelsherg were surrendered to us. Danzig had put up a brilliant defence, but the storehouses were exhausted, gunpowder was in short supply and there was not a square metre of the place without a bomb crater.
As a result of the capitulation, the garrison was to be led to the Prussian outposts on the side of Pilau. I was assigned to General Jarry’s staff to accompany this garrison commanded by Mr. de Kalkreuth. Nothing matched the veneration of the Prussian soldier for his elderly leader, who used to address them with ‘Hello, my children’, to which the men replied ‘Hello, father’. As aide-de-camp to General Jarry, my task was to investigate the enemy’s defensive works. Mr. de Kalkreuth soon acknowledged that I was an engineer officer, and I was treated all the better for it.
My mission accomplished, I rejoined the army on 6 June. We spent two days on the Eylau battlefield, which was no longer recognisable … The snow had covered up the cannonballs and weapons, and when the thaw arrived the Jews had gathered everything. Instead of ice, the lakes were crystal clear and the country was covered in lush greenery. The losses suffered and the considerable superiority of the Russian forces compelled the Emperor to wait for his army to increase in numbers and arrive concentrated in front of the enemy. I Corps was called up.
On the morning of 14 June, the guns were heard early in the distance. It was the anniversary of Marengo, and everyone regarded it as a good omen. The march was hastened cheerfully, and it seemed as if they were heading to a celebration. At around three o’clock, the Guard emerged through the woods and lakes onto the plain of Friedland. Marshal Lannes had been fighting for a long time, and the enormous superiority of the enemy, constantly fed by troops arriving by the bridge at Friedland, had forced him to retreat as far as the Sorttach wood (sic) … As soon as Marshal Ney could get into line, he moved to the right. The Emperor, having recognised the enemy front, ordered an attack. The marshal rushed like lightning in the direction of Friedland, bayoneting everything in front of him.
The Russian general Bennigsen, realising that all the efforts were being concentrated on his left, directed a huge quantity of artillery towards this wing, forming the Guard into battalion squares and closed masses … The attack became formidable; cannonballs were falling down around the headquarters, and a shell burst ten paces from the Emperor under the belly of the horse of Paulin, an engineer officer and aide-de-camp to General Bertrand. The Emperor was believed to have been hit, but he alone did not notice. Marshal Ney, in spite of all the obstacles, supporting his right on the outward march, reached the masses of the Russian Imperial Guard; crushed by the large battery in the centre commanded by Colonel Forno (who perished gloriously), they were horribly slaughtered.
This battle, despite being fought very late, was one of the most accomplished of the war and yet two divisions of I Corps and the Imperial Guard did not fire a shot. Prince Murat, Marshals Davout and Soult were marching on Königsberg and took no part in the action.
The next day, before setting off, the Emperor travelled around the battlefield … It was covered with the dead, men of the Russian Guard in particular. He said: ‘I have been involved in many affairs, yet I have never witnessed such an appalling result. Now, they will have to demand peace from me’.
Tilsit, 19 June 1807
When I arrived at Tilsit, the meeting of the sovereigns had already been arranged. The artillery and engineers were assisting in the construction of a pavilion on a boat anchored in the middle of the river.
Commander Boissonet and I were lodged almost opposite the building occupied by the Emperor. We were as comfortable as the crowding of so many distinguished people could allow, in a very small town that was divided into three sections for the headquarters of the Russians, the Prussians and the French. We witnessed the key events that put an end to such a dreadful struggle. This period in the history of France is one of the most glorious in its annals. Napoleon, arbiter of the destinies of Europe, beheld all the sovereigns humble themselves before him. He distributed the thrones to his family on an equal footing. Frederic William, the King of Prussia, with his unattractive appearance and completely destitute, ranked second. People suffered from the lack of consideration he received from the two emperors.
The Queen of Prussia travelled to Tilsit. During her first visit with the Emperor, I sat in the sentry post at the foot of the seven or eight steps leading up to the entrance to the residence. Dressed in black, her eyes red from crying, in the deepest pain, the extraordinary charm of her face made no difference. She gained in interest what she had lost in brilliance. Her proud head strode with dignity along the two rows of marshals lining the outside staircase. Napoleon received her and extended his hand to her as she got out of her carriage. General Duroc offered his arm to an elderly lady of honour. On the Queen’s second visit, after having obtained the preservation of Silesia, her appearance and manners took on a different character. She was Diana (a virgin goddess and protector of childbirth from the Roman Period), and yet at the age of 32 or 33, she had already conceived 10 or 12 children. After the Treaty of Tilsit, it was noted that the Emperor spoke deferentially of the Queen and with a sort of contempt for the King, whereas during the campaign he said to the Prussians ‘Your poor, good King’, blaming all the evils of the war on the Queen. It is said that in a fit of despair the King of Prussia, in tears, uttered the following words on the subject of the renunciation of Silesia which Napoleon wanted to impose: ‘Ah, Your Majesty has no idea what it is like to lose hereditary domains!’ This exclamation, so genuine, so natural, but imprudent, must have upset Napoleon.
One day, as I was standing in front of his door, (Tsar) Alexander came to me to find out where Murat was staying. I hastened to take him there, as his entire escort modelled its steps on those of the Emperor, even his brother, who maintained an invariable distance behind him. He was then a very handsome man, perhaps too overweight but blessed with an extremely amiable figure.
We frequently passed along the right bank of the Niemen, where the Russian encampment was located. We had to be very cautious about visiting certain quarters, and be careful not to wander through those of the Tartars and Bashkirs without an escort. There was nothing more singular than the naked chests of the Tartars with three or four medals commemorating the actions in which they had been involved. The Bashkirs, who were very skilful soldiers, could aim at a five franc écu with arrows at a distance of fifty paces, taking five or six attempts. These people were given regular distributions of bread and meat, beef or mutton, all of which they sold, preferring the flesh of a horse cut into long strips, which they ate raw, only dampened for a few hours in the sun, accompanied by flour dumplings boiled in water. They valued their horses at extraordinary prices; you could see them asking 3 to 4,000 francs for a miserable animal whose bones pierced the skin.
In addition to the daily inspections, the Emperor wished to show to the two sovereigns Davout’s Corps barracks a short distance away. Extensive manoeuvres were carried out. Princes Constantin and Murat performed a thousand strange acts and displayed a sort of tenderness for each other. I saw General Bennigsen covered in decorations. Looking at the front of a regiment, the Emperor said: ‘This is a regiment that was with me in Egypt.’ – ‘There aren’t many of them left’, replied Alexander. The colonel led them out of the ranks, and quite a few appeared, almost all of them officers, which pleased the Emperor.
Peace having been signed with Russia on 7 July and with Prussia on 9 July, enemy territory was evacuated.
The Imperial Guard set off for France. We travelled from castle to castle. This trip was certainly the most pleasant I have ever undertaken, and I was very well received everywhere. The short duration of our stays did not exclude impromptu gallant encounters … A rather beautiful Polish lady castellan, near Cossabuda (?), insisted that I retain a fond memory of her manor.
In Berlin I stayed with a highly educated and excellent councillor, but the Prussians abhorred us in every sense of the word. This general hatred could not, however, outweigh the taste of German women for the French victors of the whole of Europe, so attractive is glory to the fair sex. In Hanover, Berlin, Vienna, and even in Spain, the radiance of the French name and that cheerful, considerate disposition, easy to inflame, dispelled all prejudices and repugnance. The least among us had his good fortune, whereas later we witnessed ‘the successes’ of the Allies in Paris only at the Palais Royal.
We finally reached French soil. We arrived at Paris on 19 November and waited until the 25th for the assembly of all the corps in the vicinity of the capital. It was a triumphal entry … The municipal authorities came to receive the Guard at the barriers. They decorated our eagles with golden crowns. We crossed the city to the acclamations of the entire population. A table with ten thousand seats was set up in the alleyways of the Champs-Elysées, from the Place Louis XV to the Barrière de Neuilly, to welcome the entire Guard. The general staff dined under a tent on the Grand-Rond de l’Etoile. The weather was very poor and the parade took place in heavy rain.
The Emperor was absent, as he was visiting Venice and his Italian states. The Empress received the corps; she paid special attention to the chasseurs and in a moving voice, with that dignity and grace which nothing equalled, she expressed the extent of the share they had played in our successes and the sacrifices they had cost us. ‘Brave chasseurs, I have mourned you like my own children; the victory of Eylau was paid for dearly by the death of so many heroes; I carry you all in my heart’. Joséphine was adored and deserved to be; she was sincerely regretted when the Emperor decided to divorce her and marry Marie-Louise. Regret increased when it was thought that this marriage could be blamed for the disasters of France, which was dominated by the genius of Austria, which in many circumstances had become powerful through its women. It is certain that Napoleon, then proud of this royal bond, blindly trusting in the perfidious demonstrations of a household which he had outraged so many times, jealous of gathering around him the most ancient families and all the titles of regal France, believed himself henceforth established on a throne, of which all the sovereigns, bending under the yoke of necessity, had recognised him as the rightful possessor. We would soon see him undertake unjust wars against his true interests, entrusting their direction to inept leaders, not at all assisted by brothers of absolute incapacity, deceived, abandoned by his allies, as soon as they could do so without danger, abandoned in the end by unworthy favourites, whom he had showered with honours and lavished with riches.
Magnificent celebrations were held. The Guard gathered the Parisians at the Military School, a superb ball took place in the chapel where one floor was formed; the expenses amounted to 4 or 500,000 francs of which the Emperor paid half. The Empress and all the members of the Imperial family attended; next to her sat the grave Cambacérès, who fell deeply asleep. The Empress laughed and pointed him out to those around her. Marshal Bessières performed the honours with dignity. His hairstyle resembling pigeon wings and powdered white, a waistcoat, breeches of black satin, made him look like a great lord of the Ancien Régime; he pretended to adopt the manners from back then …
Source : Journal de ma vie, in La Revue des Deux-Mondes, September 1967, pp. 67-71.
Jonas De Neef's Napoleon Chronicles 
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