wild flowers growing along the bank, quite oblivious of the bloody affairs of men.
Turning round, Arthur urged his column on. General Stewart and the rest of the brigade would be able to keep the Danes occupied for some time before the enemy was able to concentrate superior fire and force the redcoats back. The flank attack had to be made before that happened. When he estimated they had gone nearly a mile, Arthur halted his men and dismounted. Leaving the reins in the hands of one of the battalion’s drummer boys, he made his way carefully up the dyke. As he approached the top he removed his cockaded hat and peered over the crest.
The outskirts of the town were no more than two hundred yards away, guarded by two companies of Danish regulars and a small artillery piece that had been laid to cover any attempt by Stewart to filter men round the side of Koge. Away to the right came the continuous crackling of musket fire. Arthur re-joined his men and summoned the battalion’s officers.
‘It is as I’d hoped. The enemy have left us an opportunity to attack from this flank. Have your men fix bayonets. When I give the word we cross the dyke and approach the town at the trot. We will halt at fifty paces and fire a volley, and then charge. After that, stop for nothing.You strike hard and you strike fast. Give them no time to recover, and make as much noise as you can. Stewart will hear and make his charge, and taken from two directions I doubt that the Danes will stand. Questions?’
There was no reply and Arthur shook his head.‘Very well. Carry on.’
The officers trotted back to their companies and Arthur drew his sword and rested the flat of the blade on his shoulder.There was a low scraping and rattling as the men drew their socket bayonets and fixed them over the muzzles of their muskets. With the weapons advanced, the men charged their flash pans with powder and firmly closed the frizzens. Then all was still and Arthur glanced round to see that the officers were watching him expectantly. He stepped forward, and climbed halfway up the bank where he could be clearly seen.
‘Thirtieth will advance at the run!’ He raised his sword, and the blade glittered in the bright sunshine for an instant before he swept it towards the town. ‘Advance!’
The redcoats swarmed up the bank, grunting and scrabbling as a handful slipped in the long grass. Then they poured over the crest and started towards the town, their boots rumbling softly over the dry ground. The Danes saw them coming at once. Snatching up their muskets they turned towards the threat, and glanced uncertainly at their officers for a moment until the latter recovered from their surprise and began to shout out orders. At once the Danish regulars hurried into formation and stood at ease, muskets grounded, facing the British battalion rapidly approaching them. Meanwhile the crew of the solitary artillery piece had rushed to their weapon and grabbed the trail, struggling to turn the gun round to face the oncoming enemy.
Arthur led the way, setting the pace, urging his men on.At a hundred yards he saw the gun crew drop the trail and make ready to blast the redcoats.The portfire flared above the firing tube for an instant and then a bright yellow jet of flame leaped from the muzzle as a plume of smoke billowed out. The weapon had been loaded with case shot and the deadly cone of iron balls swept through the company on the right flank of the British line, knocking several men to the ground. The battalion did not even pause, but continued rushing forward as one of the gunners sprinted round to the front of the gun and began to sponge it out.
Gauging the distance between his men and the two companies of Danes, Arthur waited a moment and then drew up, thrusting his sword into the air. ‘Thirtieth! Halt! Make ready to fire!’
The battalion drew up, swiftly dressed their ranks and then advanced their muskets, the men panting for breath.
‘Aim!’
The muskets came up, the bayonets pointing directly at the enemy. The Danish officers were busy bellowing their own orders and their men raised their weapons in response.
‘Cock your muskets!’
‘Fire!’
The two sides fired within an instant of each other and the volleys thundered out. Arthur felt the wind of a ball pass close by his head and heard the thudding impact and gasps of his men as they were struck down. From the right came the sound of another blast from the cannon.
‘Charge!’Arthur bellowed, the cry torn from his throat.Thrusting his sword forward, he raced through the thin cloud of gunpowder smoke and saw through the opposing veil that the Danes had already grounded their muskets and begun to reload. On either side the men of the Thirtieth burst through the smoke and raced across the open ground directly at the enemy. As they closed the gap Arthur could see that the Danes would not have time for another volley and already some of them were stepping back in the face of the line of bayonets sweeping towards them. Only a handful managed to discharge their weapons before the redcoats were among them.Arthur made for a tough-looking veteran, who had managed to fix his bayonet and now advanced the point towards Arthur’s stomach.With a vicious slash, Arthur parried the thrust and slammed the hilt of his sword into the man’s face, crushing his nose and knocking him senseless. On either side the men of the Thirtieth tore through the enemy line, stabbing with their bayonets and using the butts of their muskets like clubs as they smashed into skulls with savage roars.The Danes, outnumbered and stunned by the ferocity of the charge, died where they stood, or broke and ran, fleeing towards the shelter of the town.
‘Keep after them!’ Arthur roared. ‘Charge! Charge!’
The officers and sergeants took up the cry and the redcoats rushed over the last stretch of open ground before plunging into the town. Arthur drew up, and grabbed the arm of one of the young ensigns.
‘Circle round the town. Find Stewart and tell him to charge. Got that?’
‘Yes, sir.’ The ensign nodded, wide-eyed and breathing fast.
‘Then go!’ Arthur thrust him in the right direction and turned to re-join the tide of screaming British soldiers charging into the town.
Their blood was up and they cut down any Danish soldier they came across, whether they attempted to surrender or not. Arthur joined a loose column of men surging up one of the wider streets leading into the heart of Koge. Ahead of them, at an intersection with another broad thoroughfare, stood another company of soldiers, formed up and facing the redcoats.They raised their muskets and thumbed back the cocks.
‘Get down!’ Arthur cried over the heads of his men. Most instinctively obeyed, falling to their stomachs or crouching on hands and knees. A few slower souls reacted too slowly and were cut down as the Danish volley crashed down the length of the street.
