Fire and Sword (58 page)
Authors: Simon Scarrow
‘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.’
‘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.
‘They mean to fight us,’Arthur announced.‘Their general thinks that we can be swept aside easily enough.’
‘Does he now?’ Stewart growled.‘Then we must teach him a lesson!’
‘Quite,’ Arthur responded. He had made his plan of attack on the ride back from his interview with Schmeiler and gave the orders immediately. ‘Stewart, you are to take the Light Companies of all three battalions, the Thirty-Second Foot and the Twentieth, and advance directly on the enemy line until you are within musket range.Then you are to halt and engage the enemy. But you are not to advance any further until I give the order. Is that quite clear?’
‘Yes, sir. But in the event that I discern an opportunity to—’
Arthur cut him short. ‘You will not move until you receive orders.’
‘Yes, sir.’ Stewart nodded. ‘And what of the last battalion?’
‘I shall be leading the Thirtieth in person,’ Arthur replied, ‘together with the Grenadier Companies of the other battalions. I mean to attempt an outflanking manoeuvre, there beyond that dyke, as soon as the gunpowder smoke obscures the enemy’s vision.’
There it was, he realised with a slight shock.The Danes had become the enemy. He had tried to prevent it from happening, but now there was nothing for it but to fight and to kill. To win victory, or suffer defeat. Perhaps even to perish here in some obscure skirmish in an unregarded corner of Europe. Arthur shook off the morbid thoughts and glanced round at his officers. ‘Gentlemen, we are outnumbered, but we are superior in training, discipline and morale. Set the right example and make sure that your men fight hard, and die hard if necessary, and the day is ours. Now, if you please, to your positions.’
As soon as he saw that his officers and men were ready Arthur nodded to the drum major standing beside the colour party and the brigade’s drummers struck up the advance, a harsh rhythmic rattle that set the redcoats on their way. The Light Companies trotted ahead, opening up a gap between themselves and the rest of the brigade as they closed on the enemy and began to fire at will at their opposite numbers. On the flanks, the two nine-pounders attached to the brigade opened fire with a deep roar, firing solid shot against the defended buildings on the edge of the town.
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