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.’
‘Good! I’ll give orders for the brigade to deploy. Two battalions in the front line and the third in reserve,’ Stewart announced. ‘Better send our guns forward to soften them up first. Then a rapid advance while they’re still reeling should do the trick.’
Arthur listened to his subordinate’s plan with a growing sense of irritation. Before Stewart could elaborate Arthur raised a hand to still his tongue and smiled genially. ‘Come, come, General Stewart, it is my turn to command.’
‘What?’ Stewart looked puzzled for an instant before he realised he had overstepped the mark and was being put back in his place. He stiffened his back and nodded.‘Yes, sir. Of course.What are your orders?’
‘That’s better. Now then, I’ll have the brigade formed up, as you suggest. No closer than a mile to the town. No sense in exposing the men to any cannon fire unnecessarily.’ Arthur smiled at Stewart. ‘Be so good as to see to it.’
‘Yes, sir.’ Stewart saluted and turned his mount away to ride back down the column and pass the orders on to the battalion. Arthur concentrated his attention on Køge once again. If there really was a division there, and they had entrenched themselves effectively, it would present a sizeable challenge for his brigade to overcome.They would be outnumbered at least two to one, and would have the further disadvantage of being forced to attack regular troops in prepared defences. Normally, it would be rash to even contemplate such an action, Arthur mused. But he had meant what he had said to Cathcart. His men were more than a match for the Danes. Provided they were manoeuvred and fought well, they should win the day.
As the British battalions marched up the road and then turned off it to deploy into line, Arthur and his staff rode ahead until they reined in just outside the range of the Danish skirmishers. It occurred to Arthur that he had not once referred to them as the enemy. The only enemy that mattered was the French, the common enemy of all the nations of Europe, if they but realised it.This conflict with the Danes was a matter of tragic necessity. Britain could not afford to let the Danish fleet fall into Bonaparte’s hands, just as the Danes could not let their national pride be shamed by submitting to British demands. Even so, Arthur decided, there might still be a chance to avoid bloodshed. He turned to his staff.
‘Wait here. I will return shortly.’
Spurring his horse forward, he trotted along the road towards Køge, making directly towards a small party of Danish soldiers spread across the turnpike. They advanced their muskets and eyed him warily as Arthur approached. He slowed his mount and halted no more than ten paces away from them, and saluted.
‘Good day. Is there any man amongst you who speaks English?’
There was a pause before a sergeant nodded. ‘A little.’
‘I am Major-General Wellesley and I have a message for your commander. Would you be kind enough to ask him to speak to me? I will wait here for his reply. Do you understand all that?’
‘Yes, sir.’ The sergeant saluted and summoned one of his men, to whom he passed on the message. The soldier handed his musket to a comrade and ran back along the road to Køge. While he waited, Arthur took the chance to examine the Danish defences as discreetly as he could. They appeared to have sited all their cannon to cover the road leading into the town.The same was true for all the infantry that Arthur could see. To his right the country was open and sparsely dotted with trees and farms, offering little cover or concealment from that direction. In the other direction, however, a dyke angled across the flat fields to the edge of the town before bending round the houses there and continuing across the landscape in the direction of the sea. Looking back over his shoulder, Arthur saw that his brigade had completed its deployment and the thin lines of scarlet with white cross-straps looked neat and bright in the sunshine, like toy soldiers.
A quarter of an hour after he had ridden up to the Danish skirmishers a small party of horsemen appeared from the town and galloped up the road towards him. Their leader wore heavy gold epaulettes and a broad scarlet sash across his chest.The sergeant snapped an order and the skirmishers fell in and stood to attention as their general and his staff slowed to a walk, and then stopped just in front of Arthur.
‘General Wellesley at your service, sir,’ Arthur said firmly, and bowed his head.
‘General Schmeiler at yours,’ the Danish commander responded in slightly accented English. ‘You asked to speak to me.’
‘Yes, sir.’ Arthur indicated his men. ‘We have orders to prevent your column from approaching Copenhagen. I would ask you to withdraw your men from Køge and retreat.You can do nothing to prevent the surrender of Copenhagen. If you remain here, or attempt to continue your advance, then there can only be unnecessary loss of life.’
Schmeiler smiled. ‘I thank you for your concern, General Wellesley. But you must know that it would be unthinkable for me to retreat, particularly in view of the minimal threat that your force offers.’ He squinted at the redcoats standing in the distance. ‘You must have no more than what . . . two thousand men? I have over five thousand. It is I who should be requesting that you fall back.’
Even though he had known that the chances of persuading the Danes to retreat were slight, Arthur felt a heavy sense of sadness in his breast. ‘General Schmeiler, I understand your sense of duty, and I commend it. But I implore you, sir, to be rational. My brigade is only a small contingent of the army that is besieging Copenhagen.You cannot hope to penetrate through to the city. If you are not defeated on this ground, then you will surely be crushed further along the road. And to what end? Copenhagen will still surrender.’
Schmeiler’s expression hardened.‘We shall see about that. Nothing is certain in war, General Wellesley, but I think that you are perhaps too young and inexperienced to have learned that. I only pray that you survive today and learn a valuable lesson. Now, unless there is anything else, I would ask you to return to your men. Good day, sir.’
Arthur touched the brim of his hat in a parting salute, turned his horse away and galloped back to his staff. He gestured for them to follow him and they returned to the brigade, where Stewart was waiting beside the colour party.