Gradually, some awareness of the danger on the bridge began to filter back through the crowd and at last those still on the eastern bank began to draw back, slowly giving ground as they retreated towards the streets where they had been waiting shortly before. The captain ordered his men to cease fire and they advanced, bayonets lowered, keeping a short distance from the retreating crowd. At length they reached the end of the bridge and spread out, forcing the crowd away. It was no easy task, as many had perished in the crush and their bodies lay heaped on the ground around the bridgehead.

‘Sweet Jesus,’ Berthier exclaimed as he stared ashen-faced at the scene. Below the bridge several bodies were caught up in the trestles. A few individuals were still alive, clinging to the posts, calling for help. Nothing could be done for them and within minutes the icy water caused the last of them to relinquish his grip. ‘What a massacre. What did they think they were doing?’

‘Panic,’ said Napoleon. ‘We can expect more of that in the hours ahead. Make sure that the ends of the bridges are well guarded, and the routes leading to them as well. See to it at once.’

As the light faded the engineers repaired the gap and began the grim task of dragging the bodies away from the end of the other bridge to clear the route leading on to it. Once the last of the soldiers had crossed the bridge and only Victor’s corps remained on the eastern bank, General Eblé did his best to get some of the civilians and stragglers across. But night had fallen and there were flurries of snow in the bitterly cold air, and many refused to stir from the warmth of their fires.

In the early hours,Victor informed Napoleon that the Russians were beginning to push forward against his entire line. The sound of cannon fire increased in volume and soon even the distant sound of musket fire could be heard from the Emperor’s headquarters. Dawn brought a fresh fall of snow with thick flakes swirling about the crossing and mercifully muffling the sounds of fighting from where the rearguard was struggling to hold back the enemy.

‘How is the vanguard doing?’ Napoleon asked Berthier.

‘They have reached the end of the causeway and deployed to guard it from flank attacks, sire. Ney’s men are holding the southern approaches to the crossing and the rest of the army is advancing along the causeway.’ He paused. ‘We’ve been lucky the Russians haven’t pressed us more closely.’

‘Indeed. Time to call in Victor. Inform Eblé he is to fire the bridge the moment the rearguard is across.’

‘Yes, sir, and what of the civilians?’

‘They will have to cross as best they can before the bridges are destroyed.’