Then, as the first glimmer of dawn lit the horizon, the flagship gave the signal to make sail. Across the calm surface of the sea came the steady clanking as the crews strained at their windlasses to haul in the thick anchor cables with the great weight of the iron sea anchors at the ends of them. One by one, the ships edged forward, taking up their stations as best they could in the light breeze and making towards the coast at an angle until at noon the signal came to drop anchor a mile from the shore opposite a long sandy beach fringed with grassy dunes.

When Arthur took out his spyglass and examined the horizon he could just make out some spires and perhaps the faint mass of buildings away to the east.

‘I think that’s Copenhagen,’ he muttered as he handed the glass to General Stewart, his second in command. ‘Over there.’

Stewart was an experienced officer with a steady, though unspectacular, history of promotion. Even though he respected the man, Arthur suspected that someone at Horseguards had appointed him to Arthur’s brigade to nursemaid its young commander.

Stewart squinted through the eyepiece as he steadied the instrument and adjusted for the slight roll of the Prometheus.‘I believe you are right, sir. And there’s the reception committee.’

He lowered the glass and pointed towards the beach. A group of horsemen had emerged from the dunes and ridden to the water’s edge to examine the shipping spread out across the sea.There was a brief flash as a telescope was trained on the fleet, and then the horsemen turned and rode off at a gallop, disappearing back into the dunes.

‘There goes the element of surprise,’ said Arthur. ‘The Danes will be ready enough for us soon.’

‘Aye.’ Stewart nodded. ‘There’ll be plenty of blood shed before this is all over. One way or another.’

‘Deck there!’ a voice called from aloft and Arthur turned and tilted his head back to see one of the sailors high up on the mainmast thrusting his arm out. ‘Boat approaching!’

A launch was advancing from the direction of the flagship and Arthur could see the red coat of an army officer sitting at the stern beside the midshipman in command of the boat.The oars rose and fell rhythmically as the small vessel approached the towering sides of the Prometheus, and as it hooked on to the chains the army officer scrambled awkwardly up the side and on to the deck. Glancing round, he spied Arthur and came striding towards him.

He saluted and held out a folded slip of paper. ‘Orders from Lord Cathcart, sir.’

Arthur nodded. He unfolded the paper and skimmed over the contents before he looked up. ‘Very well. Tell his lordship that I will begin at once.’

‘Yes, sir.’