‘No. I will save it for his commander.’
Arthur felt his pulse quicken.This was bad news indeed and made it essential that the Danes surrender as soon as possible. He cleared his throat and continued calmly. ‘It would seem that Denmark faces a choice of giving way to us, or to France. I need not tell you that the consequences of the latter option are far more dire than permitting Lord Cathcart to remove your warships. Once we have those there is no purpose to our remaining on Danish soil. I doubt the French would leave your country quite so readily.’
Schmeiler thought on this a moment and then nodded slowly. ‘I think you are right.’
‘Then can I count on your assistance in helping to persuade the commander of the Copenhagen garrison to lay down his arms?’
‘I will not go that far,’ Schmeiler replied.‘But I will present your case fairly.’
‘Thank you.’
A quarter of an hour later a small party of horsemen reined in a short distance from Arthur and his two companions. Some were dressed in civilian clothes and one, their leader, wore a gaudy uniform. He saluted Arthur as he approached, and then frowned as he saw General Schmeiler. He addressed the latter sharply and there was a brief exchange before he turned his attention back to Arthur.
‘Sir, I am General Peymann, commander of the garrison. Whom do I have the honour of addressing?’
‘Major-General Sir Arthur Wellesley at your service, sir.’ Arthur touched the brim of his hat.
Peymann eyed him appraisingly.‘Is it true that your brigade defeated a division of regular troops?’
‘Why, yes, sir.’ Arthur sensed Schmeiler flinch at his side and decided it would be best to spare the man as much embarrassment as he could. ‘But only after a stiff fight, sir.Your compatriots did all that they could before yielding to my men.’
‘I am gratified to hear that,’ Peymann responded flatly. ‘Though it would have been better if our men had fought with more zeal. I can assure you that the defenders of Copenhagen will fight with rather more heart than General Schmeiler and his men.’
‘I have no doubt of that,’ Arthur replied politely. ‘I am sure that they are all good patriots. Like any man who volunteers for the militia. Be that as it may, they are up against regular soldiers, the best trained infantry in Europe. Our fleet anchored off the approaches to your harbour is manned by the victors of Trafalgar. Sir, there can only be one result if you should make the tragic mistake of opposing our demands. Admiral Gambier’s fleet will bombard Copenhagen.Thousands will die and many fine buildings will be crushed to rubble. Then the army of General Cathcart will storm the city.You know the rules of war, sir. If you fail to come to terms with us before the assault begins then our men will be fully within their rights to sack Copenhagen and take what, and whom, they like.’
General Peymann eyed him coldly. ‘You would let them do that?’
‘I regret to say that I, or any British general, could do little to stop them,’ Arthur replied.The redcoats were fine soldiers on the battlefield but could be perfect devils when given their head and Arthur dreaded to consider the consequences should a drunken host of British soldiers descend on the helpless population of the Danish capital. He decided to make one final effort to persuade General Peymann to see reason. ‘Sir, much as I admire your determination to defend your country’s honour, I would beg you to spare your people the horrors of war.What glory is there in such an end? I implore you. Surrender your fleet to Admiral Gambier while there is still time.’
‘You know that we cannot do that. Do you think for a moment that the French Emperor would tolerate such meek behaviour? No, he would punish Denmark severely.’ General Peymann smiled bitterly. ‘So it seems that my people are damned either way.’
It was true, Arthur reflected sadly. There was no easy choice for the Danes.
General Peymann stiffened his back and continued. ‘Besides, what gives your government the right to demand possession of our warships?’
‘Only the right of self-preservation. Britain cannot let those ships fall into French hands.You would do the same in our position.’
‘Perhaps,’ Peymann conceded. ‘And what about you, General Wellesley? If our positions were reversed, would you surrender your capital city and your warships?’
Arthur thought for a moment and shrugged.‘I doubt it. But we must deal with the present realities, sir. Will you surrender?’
‘No.’
‘Then there is nothing more to say.’
Peymann shrugged. ‘I bid you farewell.’
The Danish commander tugged on his reins and turned his mount away. Arthur glanced at Schmeiler and thought quickly.There was still a chance that General Peymann might yet be persuaded to see sense. He reached over and touched Schmeiler’s arm.
‘I release you from your parole.’
Schmeiler looked at him in surprise. ‘You release me? Why?’
‘There is no point in keeping you prisoner any longer. It serves no purpose. You are free. I hope that you live through what is to come.’ Arthur offered the Dane his hand and Schmeiler shook it warmly before Arthur turned his mount away and spurred it back towards the British lines, hurriedly followed by the ensign still carrying the flag of truce.
That night the British fleet sailed within range of the city and began to bombard Copenhagen.Arthur watched from one of the British outposts close to the coast. Scores of flashes illuminated the sides of the warships as their solid shot arced across the harbour and pounded the buildings of the Danish capital. Fire was returned from the citadel that guarded the harbour until the guns there were silenced, and for the rest of the night the ships of the Royal Navy continued to pour a devastating barrage of shot on the Danes.
From the landward side the siege guns added their weight, pounding the defences before them, while the rockets shrieked out from their launchers, inscribing a flaring parabola across the night sky before they fell inside the city and exploded with bright flashes that brought cheers from the ranks of the excited British soldiers who had gathered to watch the spectacle. Some fires began to start where the rockets had landed and wavering orange flames steadily spread across expanses of the city as the night drew on. Only as the first glimmer of dawn appeared did the fire begin to slacken as the British warships made sail and withdrew out of range of the remaining Danish guns. As the light strengthened and Arthur trained his spyglass on the city his heart sank at the sight of the shattered roofs and the clouds of smoke billowing up from the fires that still raged.
The bombardment continued for the following two nights, increasing in intensity. Once the initial exuberance of the first night had worn off the redcoats watched the terrible pounding in awed silence, their faces dimly lit by the distant glow of flames and the sudden flare of explosions as they witnessed the death of a great city. Then, on the morning after the terrible destruction of the third night, General Peymann sent a message to Lord Cathcart offering to surrender both Copenhagen and the fleet. A treaty was signed two days later and the garrison laid down its arms and opened the city to the victors.