Tilsit (Prussia), 1807. Tsar Alexander I and Napoleon Bonaparte agreed to end the conflict between Russia and France. Through the Treaty of Tilsit, they pledged to help each other in the face of their enemies, and even used it to distribute the European cake between the two. It was good news and a beautiful excuse for the celebration for Bonaparte. Thus, the Chief of Staff of the French Army and a close friend of Napoleon, Louis Alexandre Berthier, decided to prepare a special hunting day for the emperor.

In order to supply fat to Napoleon, Berthier bought hundreds of rabbits to set him free in the hunting area (just as Franco, when he went fishing or hunting, was given trout, lepers and deer). In order for him to be the one who kicked out the most hunters, the Emperor stood in the front line. But then things didn’t turn out as expected. The rabbits that Berthier bought were farmed, domesticated, accustomed to being fed by humans. In addition, when transporting rabbits to the hunting area, no one thought of feeding the animals. When they were released, the lice was well made, and instead of fleeing to and fro, they rushed to the nearest man, asking for food. And there, on the front line, was the man who had declared himself emperor three years earlier, one of the most brilliant military strategists in history, who in just a decade would conquer Western and Central Europe, without defeat on the battlefield until then.

The whole procession tried to prevent the attack of the hungry rabbits, but in vain. Napoleon got into the carriage and escaped from that “battlefield.”

Seven years later, Napoleon was defeated at the Battle of Waterloo. The humiliation of the rabbits did not have any noticeable consequences and repercussions of this failure. But surely the dignity of Napoleon was temporarily exiled to a sort of St. Helena.