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I shouldn’t criticise my betters but this is looking much like a stalemate, brother. We can’t stay for much longer and … It was not what he should be saying. He put down his pen and looked moodily out of the window at the grey evening. Why couldn’t the Danes see sense?

Chapter 77

In the morning the rain had stopped. Following the Koge success, the officers and soldiers of the 52nd and other detachments were ordered to return to their unit. For Maynard and his men it would now be back to bivouac or tents at best, their billeting in comfort a fond memory.

The line of march to the Swan Mill encampment circled around Copenhagen at a respectable distance, but the mutter and grumble of artillery exchanges could be heard, and in the heavy air a pall of dirty smoke hung over the besieged city, like a portent of doom.

Nearer, a distant swell of noise grew and intensified. Somewhere out there on their right the Danes were making a sortie, by the sound of it in numbers and determined.

They marched on but it didn’t die away, and Maynard realised uneasily that it was coming from more or less the direction of their camp. Imagination supplied the rest: the only other traverse across the fosse was at the Citadel – which directly faced them. Almost certainly this was a sudden thrust into the British lines, and if they used a substantial force, it was a real threat.

A tell-tale haze of powder-smoke hung over their positions – or did it? It seemed to be well short of their breastwork.

In the last mile the sound of the affray slackened and stopped.

They halted while scouts were sent ahead, then marched on into a battlefield. The camp was untouched. There were no signs of an assault but under guard a group of prisoners sat on the ground, each with the exhausted, vacant features of the defeated.

‘So, you missed our little entertainment,’ said the adjutant, looking pleased with himself.

‘What happened?’

‘Danskers made a sally from the Citadel. Odd thing, they didn’t go for our lines. Instead set to chopping down trees.’

‘Trees?’

‘Well, we have it from the prisoners they wanted to level ’em to get a clear field of fire on the only place over the fosse. Didn’t get very far before our chaps disputed with them. Want to have a look?’

Ironically, a pretty grove of woodland and park had been the scene of so much bloodshed.

‘A garden belonging to a chap called Classens. I doubt he’d recognise it now.’

The ornamental parades, shady nooks and flowerbeds were torn and ravaged, trees hacked and gouged by shot.

Maynard’s gaze was drawn to the pitiable sight of the dead in rows next to a pond. They lay face up with the glassy stare of death but what wrenched at him was their youth. With fair hair in fashionable ringlets, some could have been no more than sixteen.

‘Students.’

‘Of the …?’

‘Not military. These are university students who banded together and called themselves Lifeguards of the King. Wouldn’t retreat.’

Their death wound in almost every case was a bayonet thrust to the front. They’d not run when the 52nd had come on and stood no chance against professionals trained in the savage parry and thrust of close-quarter combat.

A lump rose in Maynard’s throat and he turned away, eyes pricking. That it had come to this! What had Denmark done that she’d paid with these young lives?

Chapter 78

‘Something’s afoot,’ Adams said, taking off his cloak and shaking the rain from it as he entered the tent.

‘What do you mean?’ Maynard asked, looking up.

‘All officers to Headquarters.’

‘Ah. Knew they’d have us out in this, the villains.’

‘Not us.’

‘Why not, pray?’

‘All officers of colonel and above only. And they’ve mounted a guard at sixty paces to enforce it.’

This was unprecedented – not to say disturbing.

‘And I saw our own beloved colonel take horse. He was wearing his do-or-die face.’

‘Any orders?’

‘None.’

‘I wonder … We’re about to throw it in and sail away?’ Maynard said hopefully.

Adams frowned. ‘I’d be careful what you wish for, youngster. We do that and the 52nd will be known for ever as the regiment bested by a mess of peasant soldiers.’

‘Then we sit and wait. ’Twas ever thus.’

The commander-in-chief of His Majesty’s land forces met each officer when they arrived, ushering them personally into another room from the usual. There was not a map or great table in sight for this was a drawing room, well supplied with armchairs and ornaments but far from a military staff room.

His field commanders took a place warily and Lord Cathcart closed the doors.

‘Gentlemen, I’ve asked you here for a singular purpose. I’ll not have you in any doubt – this is not a planning meeting, neither is it a council-of-war. It is by way of a … a discussion.’

Wellesley stiffened. ‘Am I to understand, my lord, that we have been brought together at this time for no other reason than to talk?’

‘If you’ll bear with me, Sir Arthur,’ Cathcart said carefully, ‘there is good and proper explanation for this course.’

He glanced once at an officer who sat nearby, a satchel at his side.

‘You don’t need me to tell you that we are at a stand in the matter of persuading the Danes to deliver their fleet to our safe custody during the present war, being the objective of this expedition as ordered by His Majesty’s government. Even a close siege of their capital has not moved them to comply.

‘As well, you’ll know that time is running out for us. Unless a resolution is found very soon we are left with only two courses: to raise the siege and withdraw in defeat, or the taking of Copenhagen by storm, by no means a certainty, and necessarily attended by much bloodshed.’

Several of the officers shifted uncomfortably.

‘It is while in this quandary that I was approached by Lieutenant Colonel Murray, our deputy quartermaster-general. He laid before me a plan that seeks to cut through our difficulties and bring this business to a swift end. Gentlemen, I’d be obliged by your views.’

Murray stood up, gave a slight bow and drew out his papers. A slim figure, he was dressed faultlessly and spoke in dry and precise tones. ‘My lord, I go from the assumption that all alternatives such as a reduction of Trekroner and a landing on Amager have been dismissed.’

‘Yes, quite.’

‘Then our objective might be simply stated. It is to apply such pressure on the Danish authorities as they are compelled to seek terms.’

‘And?’

‘Just that. Given our capability in troops and guns, we cannot normally hope to effect a conclusion, yet with the same military resources there is left a way open to us.’

The room held quiet.

‘To oblige the inhabitants to suffer a general bombardment such as will lead them to beseech their commander to sue for peace.’

For a moment a shocked silence held, then a babble of protest burst out.

‘Sir, this is monstrous! To rain fire and destruction on an innocent people – this is not an act of war, this is barbarism.’

‘It will damn the character of an Englishman for ever.’

Cathcart waited and responded mildly, ‘Your feelings do you honour, gentlemen, but are of little value to me at this time. This plan has the merit of being within our power and has the prospect of being effective in the larger difficulty. I’m minded to consider it.’

Wellesley asked quietly, ‘What assurance is there that a bombardment, however offensive to our honour, will be successful in its object? Do we continue until all Copenhagen, so lately a neutral, has been laid in ruins? It were better we consider most carefully before embarking on such a course.’