Historical jokes

Napoleon's Chief-of-Staff Plans a Rabbit Shoot
Summer 1807 brought the end of the War of the 4th Coalition, when France defeated Russia at the Battle of Friedland on the 14th of June 1807. The signing of the two-part Treaty of Tilset by Napoleon and Tsar Alexander I of Russia (1777-1825) was completed on the 7th of July and Prussia’s leader Friedrich Wilhelm III (1770-1840) added his signature on the 9th of July. The French emperor decided that a celebration was necessary for himself, French dignitaries, and his key military officers. (The rank-and-file soldiers were unsurprisingly not on the guest list.) Napoleon asked his skilled Chief-of-Staff Louis-Alexandre Berthier (1753-1815) to arrange a day of rabbit hunting with a luncheon in the open air.

As with most stories, the exact number of rabbits that Berthier gathered on the hunting ground has been exaggerated with its retelling but Berthier collected several hundred, perhaps thousands, of rabbits and placed them in cages at the edges of a field so that when his emperor took aim he would find his prey plentiful and enjoy an excellent day’s sport. Napoleon could be difficult and he wasn’t a renowned shot so Berthier was meticulous in preparing the way for a jubilant emperor. Or so he believed.

Rabbit Rush Towards Nervous Napoleon
On the day of the shoot, the rabbits were released from the cages as the hunting party with gun bearers and beaters took their positions. The first of the released rabbits acted unexpectedly. Instead of bounding away from the party of gun-toting men, the rabbits bounced merrily towards them. At first, Napoleon and his guests were amused. Why weren’t the rabbits running? Did they want to be rabbit stew?

Their mirth turned to discomfort and then fear as all of the rabbits followed the first few and formed a formidable furry army that moved in a wave towards the world’s most eminent soldier. Many clustered around Napoleon’s feet, some began to clamber up his legs and a few enterprising rabbits reached his jacket. He tried to swat them away with his riding crop but the rabbits were undeterred. Napoleon’s guests picked up sticks and attempted to liberate him. Again, the rabbits did not flee, they stuck close to their man. There was gunfire but no rabbit retreat. No one dared to laugh at the bizarre sight of their besieged emperor. The rabbits grew less friendly. They appeared to be hopping mad that they were being met with resistance.

Napoleon's Waterloo #1
A petrified Napoleon bolted, as quickly as the rabbits would allow him, to his carriage. He left his guests to fend off the bunny army. Cleverly, almost as though they had studied Napoleon’s military techniques, the rabbits divided into two regiments and made determinedly towards Napoleon’s carriage. The coachmen used their whips to scare them but to no avail.

Some adventurous rabbits managed to jump into the carriage with Napoleon, who had presumably seen far too many rabbits already that day. Only when the carriage was set in motion did the rabbits concede. The few invaders in the carriage were thrown out of the window by the emperor.

The Cause of the Emperor's Embarrassment
The explanation for the rabbit hunt debacle was simple although Berthier did not readily accept blame. He was acclaimed for his organisational skills but on this occasion, Berthier had made a monumental error. Instead of sourcing wild hares and rabbits in the field, he’d elected to take a less labour-intensive route. Berthier and his men had approached the local farmers about securing a spectacular array of rabbits. What he hadn’t realised, even as they popped the rabbits in their cages to be ready for the shoot, was that the farmed rabbits were tame.

Berthier Dies in Mysterious Circumstances
The furry friends did not comprehend the risk to them when the hunt began. Whenever these rabbits saw a human approaching it was with food so when they looked at Napoleon and his party they supposed that he was delivering food, so why would they not run towards him to secure the tastiest nibbles? Their subsequent pursuit of the man to his carriage where the food might have been was, as it transpired, wishful thinking.

The rabbits and Berthier lived to see another day but he died in mysterious circumstances on the eve of the Battle of Waterloo. The question remains whether he fell, jumped or was pushed out of an upstairs window to meet his end. (Rabbit revenge?)

Napoleon passed away in exile in 1821. Presumably, he never kept a pet rabbit.

It's the unofficial start of summer, which means it's as good a time as any to revisit one of the greatest vacation moments in American history: when President Jimmy Carter was attacked by a rabbit.

The incident took place in April 1979, but didn't grip the nation's attention until several months later. Here's the gist: Carter was on a fishing trip in Georgia when — well, take it from the former commander in chief:



Simple enough, right? The whole incident would have been a nonstory — no reporters were around to witness it — had it not been for Carter press secretary Jody Powell, who recounted the story to the news media himself. Thus, the "killer rabbit" tale was born.

"Bunny Goes Bugs: Rabbit Attacks President" blared one headline that appeared in the Washington Post.

"Carter Fights 'Killer Rabbit' With Paddle on Fishing Trip," declared the Associated Press, which reported the bunny was "hissing menacingly, its teeth flashing and nostrils flared, and making straight for the president."

The optics weren't great for Carter. There actually was a White House photographer who captured the encounter, but Carter's staff refused to release the photo. It wasn't made public until after Carter left office, and didn't exactly rehabilitate his image:



The photo shows Carter fleeing. (^^^)

Carter later acknowledged how the story took on such mythic proportions.

"I don't know what Jody told in the middle of the night in a bar after a lot of drinking had been going on," Carter told CNN somewhat ruefully in 2010. "When Jody told it to his fellow drinkers, it became a very humorous and still-lasting story."

Indeed: