By 1812, Napoleon wielded enormous power across much of Europe, effectively blocking most of the continent’s trade with Britain to weaken the nation. He was also married to Marie Louise, the daughter of Austria’s emperor, which further cemented his influence. Interestingly, he had given her a stunning emerald and diamond necklace, one of the items taken during a recent heist at the Louvre.
However, the Russian Empire was resisting Napoleon’s trade restrictions. That summer, he directed his formidable army of about 600,000 men to invade Russia—a drastic decision that would have dire consequences.
“This is one of the most notorious military campaigns in recent history,” states Nicolás Rascovan, who leads the microbial paleogenomics unit at the Pasteur Institute. “He thought he could conquer the world. It was probably the beginning of the end for him.”
In October, Napoleon withdrew his troops after a lackluster engagement with the Russian forces. It was neither a victory nor a defeat. As they marched home, they faced an early winter.
“They began to succumb to the cold, hunger, and infectious diseases,” mentions Rascovan. In total, hundreds of thousands died.
A new study featured in the journal Current Biology suggests that two surprising pathogens might have contributed to these soldiers’ high mortality rates.
Overall, the grim realities of war were anything but romantic, according to Michaela Binder, a bioarchaeologist not involved in the study. “For many of these men, dying in battle might have been a welcome relief.”
Historically, typhus and trench fever were believed to afflict Napoleon’s troops, supported by historical texts and the discovery of body lice on remains. However, advancements in molecular techniques led Rascovan to investigate the remains of soldiers unearthed in a mass grave found accidentally during construction in Vilnius in 2001. This grave held the remains of two to three thousand soldiers, buried shortly after their deaths.
“Europe is rich in history, and archaeological finds are common,” notes Rascovan. “You dig a hole, and something often turns up.”
The team discovered 13 teeth from various soldiers, which could potentially contain ancient DNA. “If there’s DNA from a pathogen in the blood, it can get into the teeth, acting as a sort of time capsule,” explains Rascovan.
After a thorough decontamination, the teeth were ground down to access their genetic material. The ancient DNA, however, was fragmented and degraded.
Rascovan analyzed it, identifying genetic material from both the soldiers and the soil they rested in, along with possible pathogens responsible for their deaths.
Upon sifting through the data, Rascovan found links to two specific bacteria: one responsible for paratyphoid fever and another that causes relapsing fever, a condition carried by body lice that dates back to the Iron Age.
Leslie Quade, a paleopathologist who did not take part in this research, acknowledges the complexity involved in analyzing such data. “Understanding the emergence and evolution of diseases can assist us in dealing with contemporary pathogens,” she commented. “Recognizing historical infections that once skyrocketed could help us prevent their return and contain modern threats.”
These findings underline that warfare has always been brutal and unforgiving. While artworks display soldiers in splendid armor and depict glorious battles, the grim reality of their physical remains tells another story, one marked by malnutrition, long-distance marches, and rampant disease. “Their bones reveal a narrative of hardship,” concludes Binder.
