nodded.‘It’s a fair point,Wellesley. But what would you have me do? Hang those who purloin the odd specimen of livestock?’
‘Yes, sir,’ Arthur replied seriously. ‘I would. The lesson would be learned soon enough.’
‘Good God, man,’ Baird protested. ‘You would value an enemy pig or a sheep above the life of a British soldier?’
‘No. I would value the safety of a man’s comrades over the life of one looter. I would value the reputation of a British army over the needs of an individual soldier.That is all.’
Baird shook his head. ‘Mad. Quite mad,’ he muttered.
As they neared the city Arthur could see that the inhabitants had made some efforts to defend themselves. A ring of simple earthworks surrounded the approaches to Copenhagen and the muzzles of cannon could be seen protruding from the embrasures of some formidable-looking redoubts. In the distance, towering above the buildings of the city, were the masts of the Danish fleet, the prize the army had been sent to seize.
There was no question of the brigade’s leading an immediate attack and Arthur ordered his men to form an extended line around the earthworks to keep watch on the enemy until Lord Cathcart and the main body of the British army arrived, with the siege train that had been landed to batter the Danes’ defences.
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.’
