round and swept the bridges and their approaches
with artillery fire.

Then the panic-stricken throngs of wounded and stragglers, women and
camp-followers, writhed and fought their way until the frail planks
were piled high with living and dead. To add to the horrors, one
bridge gave way under the weight of the cannon. The rush for the one
remaining bridge became yet more frantic and the day closed amidst
scenes of unspeakable woe. Stout swimmers threw themselves into the
stream, only to fall victims to the ice floes and the numbing cold. At
dawn of the 29th, the French rearguard fired the bridge to cover the
retreat. Then a last, loud wail of horror arose from the farther bank,
and despair or a loathing of life drove many to end their miseries in
the river or in the flames.

Such was the crossing of the Beresina. The ghastly tale was told once
more with renewed horrors when the floods of winter abated and laid
bare some 12,000 corpses along the course of that fatal stream. It
would seem that if Napoleon, or his staff, had hurried on the
camp-followers to cross on the night of the 27th to the 28th, those
awful scenes would not have happened, for on that night the bridges
_were not used at all_. Grosser carelessness than this cannot be
conceived; and yet, even after this shocking blunder, the devotion of
the soldiers to their chief found touching expression. When he was
suffering from cold in the wretched bivouac west of the river,
officers went round calling for dry wood for his fire; and shivering
men were seen to offer precious sticks, with the words, "Take it for
the Emperor."[278]

On that day Napoleon wrote to Maret that possibly he would leave the
army and hurry on to Paris. His presence there was certainly needed,
if his crown was to be saved. On November 6th, the day of the first
snowstorm, he heard of the Quixotic attempt of a French republican,
General Malet, to overthrow the Government at Paris. With a handful of
followers, but armed with a false report of Napoleon's capture in
Russia, this man had apprehended several officials, until the scheme
collapsed of sheer inanity.[279] "How now, if we were at Moscow,"
exclaimed the Emperor, on hearing this curious news; and he saw with
chagrin that some of his generals merely shrugged their shoulders.
After crossing the Beresina, he might hope that the worst was over and
that the stores at Vilna and Kovno would suffice for the remnant of
his army. The cold for a