‘How goes it, General?’
Eblй turned and saluted. ‘The first trestle is in position, sire. We’ve been lucky with the frost.’
‘Lucky?’ Napoleon stared at the men standing up to their thighs in the river.
Eblй stamped his boot on the frozen river bank. ‘It’s hardened the mud. Makes it easier to get the materials down the bank.’
‘I see.’ Napoleon gestured towards the handful of wagons behind them. ‘I thought I gave orders to have all the wagons burned at Orsha.’
‘Yes, sire. However, I gave orders for my men to save a handful of wagons for our tools and nail barrels.’
‘You disobeyed my order.’
Eblй stared at him and then shrugged. ‘Evidently.’
‘Good man. I wish half my generals showed such initiative.’ Eblй looked relieved, but Napoleon pointed a finger at him. ‘Just don’t make a habit of it.’
Eblй laughed.
Napoleon looked round at the timber piled on the bank. ‘Will you have enough material to complete the job?’
‘That depends on Studienka, sire. The timber comes from the houses. My men are busy tearing the buildings down to get what we need. As long as the village is big enough, you can have your bridges.’
‘When will they be completed, General?’
‘Before noon tomorrow, if we are lucky. But the river is starting to rise, and there’s ice in it. That may slow us down. I can’t let the men work in these conditions for more than an hour at a time. I’ll work them in shifts. An hour in the water, and half an hour resting by the fires. Still, we’re going to lose many of them to the cold, sire.’
The sound of the engineers’ hammers and piledrivers continued through the night. Meanwhile, the stragglers and non-combatants were arriving at the village and filled the streets of Studienka while they waited for the bridges to open. Napoleon intended to get the bulk of the army over the river before giving the civilians their chance. Last of all would come Victor and the rearguard, then the bridges would be destroyed.
As dawn broke, weak and pallid as clouds obscured the sun and threatened snow, a party of Cossacks was sighted a mile to the south on the far bank. They observed the bridge-building for a few minutes before turning and galloping away.
‘They’ll reach Borisov within the hour,’ Napoleon muttered to Berthier. ‘It will take the commander there an hour or so to form his men up and begin to march towards the ford. Give them three hours at the most to reach us, and another to deploy. We can expect them to start attacking our outposts early this afternoon.’ He turned to examine the bridges. Trestles extended from both banks and the engineers were hard at work nailing support beams and planking in place. The smaller bridge, built for infantry to cross, still had a gap of some twenty paces between each end. The second bridge was larger, constructed to bear the weight of the army’s remaining guns and the wagons that had escaped the fire at Orsha. It was going to take somewhat longer to complete.
‘Shall I give the order for Oudinot to withdraw to the bridgehead, sire?’ Berthier asked.
‘What?’
‘The Russians know what we are up to. There’s no need for Oudinot to continue his diversionary action now.’
‘Yes, of course. Recall him at once.’
The first bridge was completed just after one in the afternoon and the leading elements of Oudinot’s corps which had just reached Studienka were the first to cross, hurrying over the bridge to advance along the causeway that stretched over the marshy land on the far side of the Berezina. It was the only means of escape and Napoleon had ordered Oudinot to keep the causeway open at all costs.
As soon as the first soldiers were marching across the bridge Eblй and his engineers concentrated their efforts on the larger structure. Already, a third of the engineers had been swept away, or were too weakened to work any further. Napoleon joined them by their braziers and did what he could to lift their spirits by praising them for their bravery and the sacrifice they were making for the army. The men listened in numbed silence as they shivered in their ice-crusted uniforms, struggling to keep their places close to the brazier.
Towards the middle of the afternoon, Eblй informed the Emperor that the second bridge was ready. Napoleon gave the order for the artillery and the Imperial Guard to begin crossing and then embraced Eblй.
‘Your men have performed a miracle, General.’
Eblй was trembling with the cold and fatigue and he could barely stay on his feet. He nodded.‘Thank you, sire, but our job is not over yet. The river is still rising, and I don’t know how long the trestles will withstand the pressure of the floes. It would be best to get the army over as swiftly as possible.’
Napoleon smiled. ‘That is my intention. Now, you’d better re-join your men. Berthier, find the general and his men some brandy. I believe there are still a few kegs in the headquarters stores.’
‘Yes, sir.’
As Berthier turned away to order one of his aides to find and distribute the brandy there was the crump of artillery to the east, adding to the faint sound of guns and musket fire from the far bank, where Corbineau and his men were holding their ground, steadily being reinforced by the troops crossing the first bridge. Napoleon strained his ears as he looked to the east. Soon the cannon fire from the rearguard action merged into an almost continuous rumble. The trap was closing on the French. Kutusov and the main Russian army would arrive from the east at any time. The survival of the Grand Army depended on Eblй’s bridges, hurriedly constructed using scavenged timber from the village.
For the rest of the day and into the evening the soldiers, cavalry and guns continued to cross the river. As soon as the civilians had heard that the bridges were open they had made for the river, and a strong cordon of infantry with fixed bayonets was holding them at bay, keeping the bridges open to military traffic. During the night a section of the second bridge collapsed, taking a gun carriage with it. Two hours were lost as the exhausted engineers repaired the bridge. The following morning the bridge was open again and the army continued to cross. At noon Napoleon ordered his headquarters to move to the far bank, together with the remaining elements of the Imperial Guard. The sound of cannon fire behind them had died away during the afternoon and the latest report from Victor was that the enemy were manoeuvring to the south, as if they still expected Napoleon to attempt to force the crossings at Borisov. Napoleon was watching the steady flow of guns and wagons over the second bridge. He could not help smiling as he read Victor’s report.
‘It seems there is no overestimating the caution of our enemy. They have us in a vice and yet Kutusov fears to tighten it.’
‘Lucky for us, sire,’ Berthier responded. ‘Fortune seems to be favouring you again. Oudinot’s cavalry have taken all the bridges along the causeway without encountering any Russians. The road to Vilna is open.’
‘Yes, fortune is with us, Berthier. Fortune, and sheer pluck, eh?’
Berthier was about to agree when there was a splintering crack. Both men turned to watch as one of the trestles in the second bridge started to collapse. Planks split and tumbled into the water. The rear wheels of an ammunition cart fell into the gap. For an instant everyone stopped to stare; the staff of the headquarters, the soldiers and civilians on the far bank. Then there was another crackle of shattering timber and a second trestle shivered and lurched to one side. The planking fell away and the wagon slipped back, even as the driver lashed his horse team to pull forward. The horses were weak and the heavy burden dragged them back towards the widening gap. Then the wagon tipped and fell into the river, dragging the horse team after it, kicking and whinnying in terror. There was a succession of splashes and the wreckage of the wagon, the debris from the bridge and the struggling horses were swept downriver.