Inferno (40 page)

I
n the morning the rain had stopped. Following the Køge 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?

‘S
omething'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.'

Major General Finch rubbed his chin. ‘My lord, for myself I have the gravest reservations concerning the legality of such an act. To fire upon the common people not in arms against us is surely in breach of the laws of war.'

Cathcart glanced to Murray for an answer.

‘My lord, the Danish commander had the opportunity to evacuate the city before we invested it and chose not to do so. That the citizens are thereby caught up in a military action is unfortunate but by no means without precedent.'

‘Sir! This has been a neutral country and should—'

‘The Crown Prince of Denmark has since seen fit to declare war on us and has thereby relinquished any rights of neutrality.'

‘Sir, we've seen how they're possessed of the merest peasant army, who cannot possibly stand against our potency. Has every avenue of diplomacy and persuasion been exhausted? Can the Danish not see that …' Finch tailed off at Cathcart's stony expression.

‘General, this Peymann is obdurate and inflexible to a degree that astonishes,' Cathcart responded. ‘I conceive that only the strongest measures will oblige him to see reason as will save his people much distress. The plan before me is such a one.'

‘Sir, I must nevertheless protest at this abominable act, so unbecoming a civilised power.'

Cathcart held up his hands for silence. ‘Gentlemen, I've heard your several objections and do openly confess that I'm deeply troubled in myself. While the decision is mine alone, I do wish for your views before I determine on a course.'

Some of his officers looked away. Others sat rigid with set faces.

‘Therefore I will ask you now a simple question. I only ask that you deliberate in your mind long and hard before answering. It is that at this very hour the fate of England herself no less rests in our hands. If we cannot contrive a proceeding whereby the Danish fleet is withdrawn from the equations of war we are lost. Should we abandon the attempt, Bonaparte will be enabled to seize the fleet to add to his own. With the Dutch and his new friend Russia, it forms an invasion force that can overcome anything we can bring against it. At the very least we must sue for peace, and at ruinous terms. At worst is the spectacle of Emperor Napoleon in triumphal procession down Whitehall. We are quite alone, gentlemen. All our allies are kneeling before the tyrant. If we do not act to save ourselves, there are no others to do it for us.

‘My question is this: do we place the niceties of conduct, the unfortunate fate of Denmark caught between two unstoppable forces, before our very survival? Our fear of what the world will think of us before resolute action? I do not think we can.'

After a long and uncomfortable silence, Wellesley spoke: ‘If we accept our hand is forced, do we have the guns to effect a bombardment of significance? A weak or paltry showing will produce the opposite effect – General Bloomfield?'

‘Ah. I have twenty, no, thirty twenty-four-pounder pieces, but these are of no account in your customary bombardment, being reckoned levellers of the ramparts only. More to be valued are the forty mortars and ten heavy howitzers that, brought forward, may bear directly on the city centre. Besides these we can land a quantity of Congreve war rockets – and, indeed, Colonel Congreve himself who ardently desires to see his weapons in use. I'm sanguine such will be adequate to produce a satisfactory degree of ruination.'

‘Good God! We're talking about the destruction of the ordinary folk, an ancient city of charm and—'

‘Do control yourself, General Finch. We abhor this as much as you do but are nevertheless seized by its necessity. I must further tell you that I've arrived at my decision. It grieves me beyond the telling but it is that we make preparation for a bombardment of Copenhagen. When all is complete, General Peymann will be offered terms of a generous nature, providing only that the fleet is delivered up. He will be led to understand that, failing an agreement in this wise, a bombardment will take place within twenty-four hours.'