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 Koge 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.
As the leading battalions caught up with the skirmishers, Stewart took command of the whole formation. They continued forward to within two hundred yards of the town, then halted and began to exchange fire with the Danish infantry formed up in front of them. After the first half-dozen volleys a thick pall of gunpowder smoke hung in the still air, obliterating each side’s view of the other.
This was the moment Arthur had been waiting for. He filled his lungs and turned in his saddle to bellow an order. ‘The Thirtieth will form column to the left!’
The line of redcoats turned swiftly and doubled their ranks so that they formed a column, four abreast, facing the dyke a few hundred yards away.
‘Advance!’
With Arthur riding at their head, the battalion, led by the Grenadier Companies, quick-marched over the pastureland, scattering the sheep before them as they trampled down the grass. Glancing to his left, Arthur saw that the smoke was building up nicely. Even the roofs of the buildings were barely visible in the thickening haze hanging over the acrid yellow smog that consumed Stewart’s men, and the front line of the enemy.
As he reached the dyke Arthur spurred his mount up the grassy slope. As he had thought, there was a broad expanse of polder on the far side, and the hot weather had dried out a thin strip of land alongside the mound of the dyke.The battalion swarmed up and over and set off parallel to the far side, following Arthur as they headed at an angle towards the town.The sounds of battle to their right were now muffled by the dyke and as they tramped on Arthur could not help noticing the brightly coloured butterflies and drowsy insects flitting through the long grass and
