The men in the tower lowered their muskets and aimed down into the street, tracking the nearest enemies. Napoleon could hear shouts from below and the crashing of glass as the defenders prepared to shoot from the church’s windows. At the sound the Russian skirmishers paused for an instant, and then crept forward again. Then the head of the enemy column appeared at the end of the street and came on in a silent shuffle through the snow.

Napoleon spoke softly. ‘Aim for the column. It’s a better target.’

Dupuy nodded and said, ‘Make ready to fire.’

The guardsmen thumbed back their hammers and took aim and stood still, waiting for the order.

Napoleon watched the column start down the street, and heard the loud, jovial cheers and laughter of men whose spirits had most likely been raised by a generous issue of vodka before they had advanced. Once the column was well down the street he turned to Dupuy and nodded. ‘Now.’

‘Open fire!’

At Dupuy’s shout the guardsmen pulled their triggers and the air around Napoleon filled with resounding cracks that were startling after the muffled sounds of the battle so far. At once the French soldiers grounded their muskets and began reloading. As soon as the smoke cleared from the top of the church tower Napoleon could see that two of the men at the front of the column had pitched forward and lay crumpled in the snow. A third had dropped his musket and was clutching at his shoulder.The head of the column had halted and there was instant confusion as the succeeding ranks pushed forward.

‘Well done, boys!’ Napoleon smiled. ‘Keep firing as fast as you can.’

The Russian column was on the move again, stepping over the bodies in the snow. The skirmishers, much closer to the church, had taken a moment to determine the direction of the enemy fire and now aimed up at the tower, the muzzles of their muskets foreshortening before disappearing behind a flash of flame and puff of smoke. Musket balls clattered off the stonework and one of the guardsmen cried out as a chip of masonry gashed his cheek. With a shamed glance at his Emperor the man quickly turned his attention back to his weapon as he rammed home the wad.

Napoleon nodded. ‘Carry on, Dupuy.’