As Cathcart and his staff came trotting up the turnpike Arthur turned his horse and saluted.
‘What’s this, Wellesley?’ Cathcart frowned. ‘Why have we halted?’
Arthur indicated the earthworks. Flags were fluttering above each one, and the heads and shoulders of their defenders were clearly visible as they watched Arthur’s brigade deploy. ‘The Danes have been preparing for us, sir. It seems that we won’t be permitted to simply walk in and seize their fleet. I had hoped that they would see reason.’
‘Well, no one really imagined they would simply roll over for us.’ Cathcart surveyed the defences briefly. ‘Very well, gentlemen, it seems we are in for a short siege.’ He turned to his aide and dictated a brief order. ‘The army will disperse around the city and form a cordon.The engineers are to begin constructing siege batteries and approach trenches at once.Then we’ll see how long it takes them to come to their senses and offer their terms for surrender.’
As the last days of August came to an end the small British army laboured under the hot sun digging a series of trenches that zigzagged across the fields towards the enemy redoubts. By night, another relay of men went forward to work on the batteries that were to blast the city’s defences to pieces before bombarding Copenhagen itself in an effort to compel surrender. If the Danes continued to resist there would be no alternative to an assault, which would be bloody and would spare neither the Danish militia nor the civilians of the city. There was no possibility of Danish reinforcements arriving by sea, or of escape by the same means, since the warships of the Royal Navy lay anchored off the approaches to the capital, beyond the range of the guns in the forts that guarded the harbour.
Arthur watched the preparations for the siege with a growing sense of unease. The work was proceeding too slowly, to his mind, yet Lord Cathcart seemed content with the present pace and spent much of his time entertaining his officers in his command tent, which was dominated by a long dining table that had been brought ashore in his personal baggage train, together with an ample supply of wines, brandy and fine foods.
Every evening the senior officers dined with their commander, waited on by half a dozen footmen who had accompanied Lord Cathcart from Britain. And outside the sounds of picks and shovels came faintly from the direction of the siege works, together with the occasional shouted order or dull thud of a musket being discharged as the nervous sentries of both sides fired at shadows.
One night, just over a week after the British army had arrived before the city, Arthur was the last to arrive at the usual evening gathering.
‘Wellesley!’ Cathcart shouted a greeting from the head of the table. ‘Sit yourself down, man! What kept you?’
‘My apologies, sir, but I had to discipline one of my corporals for looting.’
‘Looting?’ Cathcart chuckled. ‘Hope you didn’t have the man shot! Eh?’
‘No, sir. He is to be broken back to the ranks and given the lash at dawn.’
‘Ah, well, I’m sure it will teach him a lesson,’ Cathcart concluded dismissively. ‘Anyway, eat up. My steward has managed to prepare a fine saddle of mutton, though I fancy it will have gone cold by now.’
Arthur helped himself to a few cuts of meat from the platter offered to him by one of the footmen. Major Simms, commander of the small contingent of engineers attached to the expeditionary force, was sitting opposite and Arthur leaned towards him. ‘What news, Simms? How long before the batteries are completed?’
‘Two more days, sir. Three at the most.’
Arthur nodded and was about to ask another question when General Baird, two places further along from Simms, interrupted. ‘What’s the matter, Wellesley? The Danes aren’t going anywhere. We have ’em bottled up like pickled onions.We can take as much time as necessary.’
‘I’d like to think so,’ Arthur replied evenly,‘but by now the whole of Denmark will know that we are here, not to mention the French. We need to finish the business before they can react.’
‘Pah!’ Baird shook his head. ‘You fuss so, Wellesley. But then you always did.’
Before Arthur could reply a young lieutenant entered the tent, breathless. He strode up to Lord Cathcart and leaned down to talk softly to the commander.
‘There’s trouble,’ Simms said quietly.
Lord Cathcart nodded to the lieutenant and waved him aside before tapping his wine glass with the edge of his knife.
‘Quiet, gentlemen! I pray you, be quiet.’
Once all had fallen silent and were looking in his direction Cathcart lowered his knife and cleared his throat. ‘One of our cavalry patrols has spotted a column of Danish soldiers marching on Copenhagen, no more than twenty miles away.’
‘What is their strength?’ asked Baird.
‘At least a division.’
Not enough to have any hope of defeating Cathcart’s force, Arthur decided, but if they managed to break through to Copenhagen it would make any assault on the city a much greater risk.
‘They must be halted,’ said Cathcart. ‘Halted, or, better still, driven off. But we must move swiftly.’
Before any of the other officers could speak, Arthur rose to his feet. ‘My men march as fast as any men in the army, my lord. Let me deal with the Danes.’
Cathcart considered the offer. ‘I admit your men are fine soldiers, Wellesley, but setting a brigade against a division? Those are not good odds.’
‘I beg to disagree, sir. A brigade of good British soldiers is worth a division in any foreign army.’
Cathcart grinned. ‘Well said, sir! Well said. Then you may put your confidence to the test.Take your brigade and drive those rascals before you.’
‘Thank you, sir. If you’ll excuse me, I must rouse my men. We’ll march within the hour.’
Chapter 36
‘What town is that?’ Arthur asked, nodding across the fields towards the modest-looking settlement two miles away. Even at this distance he could see the figures of a line of men well in advance of the buildings. Skirmishers most likely, he decided. Beyond them scores of men were busy barricading the streets that led into the town.The Danes must have been alerted to the approaching column of redcoats at first light and had used the intervening hours to prepare to make their stand.
His question was greeted with silence by his staff officers and Arthur looked round with an irritated expression. ‘Well?’
General Stewart came to their rescue. ‘It’s called Køge, sir.’
‘Køge.’ Arthur nodded. ‘Well, it seems that the Danes have reached the place before us and dug themselves in. That could be a promising sign.’>
‘Promising?’ Stewart cocked an eyebrow. ‘How is that, sir?’
‘If the Danes have stopped and are setting up defences, that means they are not confident of advancing any further, not without reinforcements. So we have a moral advantage over them already, and I intend to exploit that to the full.’
‘You will attack then, sir?’
‘Of course.’ Arthur fished for his fob watch and glanced down. ‘Just after eleven. Plenty of time to clear them out.’