Diary of a Napoleonic Footsoldier

by Jakob Walter

  Now we came to a Polish government town, Posen, to which I had brought the horses, wagons, and servants of a Polish general, as I noted in connection with the campaign of 1807. From there we went to Gnesen, also an important city, where I, likewise in 1807, had announced in eight villages that food must be delivered for Napoleon and where I had had to spend almost two weeks. In these towns it was still possible to buy provisions here and there, and supposedly quarters were still available there. The march continued through [Inowr]azlav, also a city where I had been during the Prussian campaigns, and all the roads of this district were still well known to me.

  On Corpus Christi Day we marched into the city of Thorn, which lies on the northern bank of the Vistula River, another city in which I had been during the year of 1807. Here for the first time we saw all the corps streaming together. All the gates were jammed, and the regiments had to wind through the streets in a great throng. We still obtained quarters. However, we had to prepare our own food from our rationed meat and bread. The meat came from the salted ice pits; there was a rumor that it had been stored from the war of 1807—the condition of the meat made the rumor seem credible, since the meat appeared bluish-black and was salty as herrings. It was already tender enough to eat, and we boiled it a few times only to draw off the muriatic acid; and then the broth, not being useful for soup, had to be thrown out.

  Since we stayed in Thorn on Corpus Christi Day, I attended the service in the great City Church, where I heard what was to me a very unusual sermon, because it was given in Polish and I could not understand anything of it. I also climbed the high, broad tower, which had more than a hundred steps, and saw the eight bells. The largest bell had a clapper that was taller than I was. An equally large clapper leaned against the wall, and I could not pull it by its upper part from the wall. This city had been improved as a fortress since my visit in 1807. The near-by heights were dug away, and ramparts were built, although with only wooden beams filled in between with sand instead of massive walls.

  Now the orders led us from Thorn to Mariampol. The march there went through Seeburg, Bischofstein, and Lagarben. The roads were sandy, and dust covered our clothing. Thence we went to a village called Löventin, where we saw a strange sight: we could count as many as thirty stork nests; almost all the storks had nested in tall willow trees and stalked around the swamps in flocks like the geese at home. The route led us on through Nordenburg and Darkehmen. Then we came to a little town known as Kalvaria, which lay on a dead-level in a barren region. Here only a noon halt was made, and no one had anything to eat. Since all is allowed to necessity, this little town, although already plundered, could not remain unsearched. All the soldiers ran for food and water, and it so happened that what provisions the inhabitants had hidden were found and brought into the camp, even though it was Polish country and, therefore, friendly. Because of this fact, the inhabitants of the town complained to our Crown Prince; and, therefore, the command came that the first soldier who thus left camp would be shot. I returned to the camp, however, just in time. The determination of our Crown Prince had risen so high that he rode along the front with a pistol and held it on the breasts of some soldiers so that one might have almost believed some of them were going to be shot, but their dire need with nothing to eat may have stopped him.

  Daily the hardships increased, and there was no hope of bread. My colonel spoke to us once and said that we could hope for no more bread until we crossed the enemy border. The most anyone might still get was a little lean beef, and hunger made it necessary to dig up the fields for the potatoes already sprouting, which were, however, very sweet and almost inedible. One also heard everywhere that several men had already shot themselves because of hardship: in particular, an officer had cut his throat on that very same day. Finally we came to the Memel River, where the Russian border was. The town of Poniemon was located there. Everyone rejoiced to see the Russian boundary at last. We encamped at the foot of the hill this side of the river, and everyone thought that he should make his knapsack as light as possible. I, too, searched through my pieces of clothing and threw away vests, unnecessary cleaning articles, trousers, etc. Here we had to make a halt until the pontoons were brought up and several bridges were constructed across the water. Now we believed that the Russians would wait on the other bank and attack, but nothing happened. Bonaparte fired upon the high points held by the Russians with a few cannon and sent his cavalry across the water. The Russians, however, withdrew after a short encounter.

  6. A BIVOUAC NEAR KOKUTISCZKI (KUKUTISHKI), 9 JULY 1812. SOLDIERS EVICT A JEW FROM CAMP, WHILE OTHERS LAUGHINGLY LOOK ON. IN THE DISTANCE, CHRISTIAN WORSHIPPERS VENERATE THE CROSS BEFORE A SMALL WOODEN CHURCH.

  On June 25 the army went over the bridges. We now believed that, once in Russia, we need do nothing but forage—which, however, proved to be an illusion. The town of Poniemon was already stripped before we could enter, and so were all the villages. Here and there a hog ran around and then was beaten with clubs, chopped with sabers, and stabbed with bayonets; and, often still living, it would be cut and torn to pieces. Several times I succeeded in cutting off something; but I had to chew it and eat it uncooked, since my hunger could not wait for a chance to boil the meat. The worst torture was the march, because the closed ranks forced all to go in columns; the heat and the dust flared up into our eyes as if from smoking coal heaps. The hardship was doubled by the continual halting of the troops whenever we came to a swamp or a narrow road. Often one had to stand for half an hour; then another such period was spent catching up and drudging away without water or food.

  The march proceeded day and night toward Vilkomirz and Eve. Meanwhile it rained ceaselessly for several days, and the rain was cold. It was all the more disagreeable because nothing could be dried. Bodily warmth was our only salvation from freezing to death. I had on only one pair of blue linen trousers, which I had bought at Thorn, since I had thrown away my underwear because of the former heat. Thus I was constantly wet for two days and two nights, so that not a spot on my body was dry. Nevertheless, I did not remain behind, although I could not see the way at night and slid in every direction on account of the clay soil. Indeed, the soldiers fell about me so incessantly that most of them were completely covered with mud and some were left lying behind.

  During the third night a halt was made in a field which was trampled into a swamp. Here we were ordered to camp and to make fires, since neither village nor forest could be seen and the rain continued without end. You can imagine in what a half-numbed condition everyone stood here. What could we do? There was nothing that we could do but stack the rifles in pyramids and keep moving in order not to freeze. Finally an estate was found off to one side, and all the soldiers by groups immediately ran to build a shelter. There was nothing else to do except to use all our strength and to pull out poles and straw; so I with assistance built a little shelter, but my strength did not last long enough to collect firewood. I lay in the tent shelter, hungry and wet. The comrades, however, who came in and lay down upon me served as a warm cover.

  When dawn came, I hurried again to the manor. Meanwhile a cellar full of brandy had been discovered. I, too, pushed myself into the cellar and filled my field flask. I returned to the shelter with this and drank it without even any bread. Then by noon I noticed that half the men had stayed back and several had suffocated in the swamp. The brandy helped, but many a man drank himself to death because he would become numbed and would freeze on account of the wet and cold. My drummer, by the name of Schäfer, met such an end.

  In the evening, when some cow’s meat was distributed, with difficulty we started a fire, so that meat and broth soon warmed our stomachs. Then the march continued toward the little town of Maliaty, where a two-day halt was made and the sick were taken to the hospital. In this bivouac we obtained some meat; but most of the men could no longer digest the pure meat, diarrhea seized many, and they had to be abandoned. In this camp I took the opportunity to wash my shirt and trousers. It happened to be
good weather; but, in order to obtain water for drinking and cooking, holes were dug into the swamps three feet deep in which the water collected. The water was very warm, however, and was reddish-brown with millions of little red worms so that it had to be bound in linen and sucked through with the mouth. This was, of course, a hard necessity on our nature and ways.

  Then we had to march farther through the villages of Kosatschisna [?], Labonary, Diescony [?], Drysviaty, Braslav, toward Disna, where we arrived in the middle of July. The men were growing weaker and weaker every day and the companies smaller and smaller. The march was kept up day and night. One man after another stretched himself half-dead upon the ground; most of them died a few hours later; several, however, suddenly fell to the ground dead. The chief cause of this was thirst, for in most districts there was no water fit for drinking, so that the men had to drink out of ditches in which were lying dead horses and dead men. I often marched away from the columns for several hours in search of water, but seldom could I return with any water and had to go thirsty. All the towns not only were completely stripped but were also half-burned.

  Finally we arrived at Polotsk, a large city on the other side of the Dvina River. In this region I once left the bivouac to seek provisions. There were eight of us, and we came to a very distant village. Here we searched all the houses. There were no peasants left. I later realized how heedless I had been, since each one ran into a house alone, broke open everything that was covered, and searched all the floors and still nothing was found. Finally, when we assembled and were ready to leave, I once more inspected a little hut somewhat removed from the village. Around it from top to bottom were heaped bundles of hemp and shives, which I tore down; and, as I worked my way to the ground, sacks full of flour appeared. Now I joyfully called all my comrades so that we might dispose of the booty. In the village we saw sieves; these we took to sift the flour mixed with chaff an inch long; and, after that, we refilled the sacks.

  Then the question of carrying and dividing the grain arose, but it occurred to me that I had seen a horse in one of the houses. Everyone immediately hurried to find the horse. We found two instead of one, but unfortunately they were both colts, and one could not be used at all. We took the largest, placed two sacks on it, and started out very slowly. While we were marching there, the Russians saw us from a distance with this booty; and at the same moment we saw a troop of peasants in the valley, about fifty. These ran toward us. What could we do but shoot at them? I, however, led the horse, and a second man held the sacks while the rest fired, one after another, so that the peasants divided in order not to be hit so easily; but they could not take the sacks away from us.

  7. A BIVOUAC OF 31 AUGUST 1812. G. KÜSTNER, PRINTER. EMMINGER AND BAUMEISTER, LITHOGRAPHERS. NAPOLEON’S TROOPS CUTTING HAY FOR CAVALRY HORSES, WITH A GREAT MANOR HOUSE IN THE BACKGROUND.

  We hurried toward the bivouac, but on the way we found a deep stream of water, and only a round tree trunk lay across it. Now the question arose how to take the horse and sacks across. I said, “Why, I will carry the sacks across, and we will throw the horse into the water,” and, indeed, I succeeded in getting over the narrow bridge in an upright position without the use of handrails, which feat might have cost me my life, since the river was very deep. Then the horse was thrown in and driven across with stones, the sacks were then reloaded, and we finally marched into bivouac. That was a joy! Whatever each person could not use was distributed. Then dough was made, and little balls were molded with the hands and baked, or rather roasted, in the fire. This food lasted me a week, and I thanked God for the chance gift which had remained buried under the shives until I came.

  We then marched farther in a somewhat more eastern direction through Ula, Beshenkovichi, and Ostrovno, and near the end of July toward Vitebsk. Often on the way to Vitebsk we undertook a raiding excursion. Some thirty of our men went off the main route to find a still inhabited and unstripped village. We collected our strength and walked from three to four hours in hopes of rejoining the army at the second bivouac.

  We were fortunate and found a village where everything still seemed to be in order. To safeguard our small group, we left a rear-guard behind and agreed that they should report with certain shooting signals a possible attack from the Russians. As we entered the village, a man at once approached us who was probably sent as an interpreter from the mayor to learn our desires. We told him that we required provisions for the army—if we received them voluntarily, force would not be used. He reported it to the village, but the answer was of no good; so we were compelled two by two to take a house and search it. I joined forces with a comrade but found nothing except milk and cabbage (“Kapuke”2).

  A wooden hut stood on a farm. This was locked, and the peasants would not open it. When we broke down the door, a woman who was with child came running at us as if mad and wanted to throw us out, but we forced her back with gentle thrusts. Here we obtained some flour, eggs, and fat. When all brought their findings together later, our booty was considerable. I am telling of this undertaking to show the ways of the Russian subjects. If they had voluntarily removed the simple covers [of their storage places], much of the household furniture would have remained unspoiled, for it was necessary to raise the floors and the beams in order to find anything and to turn upside down everything that was covered. Under one such floor, which had large beams resting side by side, we found pots full of sausages stuffed into casings four to five feet long and filled with pieces of bacon and meat an inch thick. Although such sausages already had a fierce smell, they were quickly eaten. Here were also hidden pots filled with lumps of cheese, which according to the customs of the country had been placed as milk on the fire and had been allowed to curdle so that the milk, cheese, and fat floated about in chunks. The cheese and fat were still left for us.

  In another well-plundered village nothing could be found in the houses; and so, urged on by our hunger, we dug in the ground. Here I with several others removed a large pile of wood which had probably just been put there. We removed this, dug into the ground, and found a covered roof of planks. There was an opening under this from ten to twelve feet deep. Inside there were honey jars and wheat covered with straw. When we had all this, we opened the jars and saw a solid, white substance with the appearance of hard wax. It was so hard that one had trouble breaking off a piece with his saber; but, as soon as it was put on the fire, it all melted to very clear honey. Now I had honey to eat for a week, although without bread. I ate the wheat raw and wild calamus from the swamps; and, in general, what garden roots were to be found had to serve the most extreme hunger.

  After this raiding excursion we again met the corps in bivouac; and we came then, on August 16, toward the city of Smolensk. Here my company had only 25 fit men. At Vitebsk already regiments had been formed into a few battalions, and many officers were left without duties; among them was my captain, whose name was Arrant. Here everyone had to be prepared for battle. The city lay before us on a long ascending height, and on the other side was the Dnieper River. Even on the night of our arrival there were a few skirmishes with the outposts and vanguard.

  On the morning of August 17, every regiment was set in motion, and all advanced in columns against the Russians. Here every regiment without exception was under fire. Again and again the troops attempted assaults, but because of the greater number of the Russians we were forced back every time on this day, since their heavy artillery stood on the heights and could hit everything. Finally by night we had made good our position on the heights overlooking the city, and the battle was discontinued. In the course of these events hunger could no longer be thought of. During the night, however, I ate from my little bit of honey and raw supplies without being able to cook. The thought of the coming day alternated with fitful sleep, and in fantasy the many dead men and horses came as a world of spirits before the last judgment. Since I did not suffer the misfortune of being wounded, I thought: “God, Thou hast allowed me to live till now. I thank Thee and offer up
my sufferings to Thee and pray Thee at the same time to take me further into Thy protection.”

  This and several other pious meditations I had with God, and I considered my destiny. Although it was never quiet the entire night and though a new battle might have started at any hour, none of all my miseries was so hard and depressing as the thought of my brothers, sisters, and friends. This thought was my greatest pain, which I sought to repress with this hope: “With God everything is possible; so I will depend upon His further help.”

  8. NEAR KOKUSCZKINA, 11 JULY 1812. H. KURTZ, PRINTER. BAUMEISTER, LITHOGRAPHER. A FORAGING PARTY, LADEN WITH PILFERED LIVESTOCK. THE MILEPOST INDICATES 71[?] VERSTS TO MOSCOW.

  As soon as the day broke—here I cannot omit the description of the length of the day and the shortness of the night. Many times when we went into bivouac for the night, the great glow of the sun was still in the sky so that there was only a brief interval between the setting and the rising sun. The redness remained very bright until sunrise. On waking one believed that it was just getting dark, but instead it became bright daylight. The nighttime lasted three hours at most, with the glow of the sun continuing. So, as soon as the day broke—we marched against the city. The river was crossed below the city. The suburbs on the northern side were stormed, set on fire, and burned up. My company’s doctor, named Stäuble, had his arm shot away in crossing the stream, and he died afterward. No longer could I pay any attention to my comrades and, therefore, knew not in what way they perished or were lost. Everyone fired and struck at the enemy in wild madness, and no one could tell whether he was in front, in the middle, or behind the center of the army.