Chapters (61)
- Title Page
- Copyright Page
- Dedication
- Chapter 1 - Napoleon
- Chapter 2 - April 1805
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4 - Arthur
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6 - Napoleon
- Chapter 7 - Paris, September 1805
- Chapter 8 - Strasbourg, 24 September 1805
- Chapter 9 - Ulm, 16 October 1805
- Chapter 10 - Arthur
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13 - Napoleon
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15 - Austerlitz, 2 December 1805
- Chapter 16 - Arthur
- Chapter 17 - Hastings, February 1806
- Chapter 18 - Dublin, April 1806
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20 - Napoleon
- Chapter 21 - Bamberg, 7 October 1806
- Chapter 22 - Jena, 13 October 1806
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24 - Warsaw, January 1807
- Chapter 25 - Eylau, 8 February 1807
- Chapter 26 - Arthur
- Chapter 27
- Chapter 28 - Dublin, April 1807
- Chapter 29
- Chapter 30
- Chapter 31 - Napoleon
- Chapter 32
- Chapter 33
- Chapter 34 - Arthur
- Chapter 35
- Chapter 36
- Chapter 37
- Chapter 38 - Napoleon
- Chapter 39 - Pamplona, February 1808
- Chapter 40
- Chapter 41
- Chapter 42 - Arthur
- Chapter 43 - Mondego Bay, Portugal, 30 July 1808
- Chapter 44
- Chapter 45
- Chapter 46
- Chapter 47 - Napoleon
- Chapter 48
- Chapter 49
- Chapter 50 - Arthur
- Chapter 51
- Chapter 52 - Napoleon
- Chapter 53 - Arthur
- Chapter 54 - Napoleon
- Chapter 55 - Arthur
- Chapter 56
- Chapter 57
- Author’s Note
‘Yes, sir.’ Stewart saluted and turned his mount away to ride back down the column and pass the orders on to the battalion. Arthur concentrated his attention on Køge once again. If there really was a division there, and they had entrenched themselves effectively, it would present a sizeable challenge for his brigade to overcome.They would be outnumbered at least two to one, and would have the further disadvantage of being forced to attack regular troops in prepared defences. Normally, it would be rash to even contemplate such an action, Arthur mused. But he had meant what he had said to Cathcart. His men were more than a match for the Danes. Provided they were manoeuvred and fought well, they should win the day.
As the British battalions marched up the road and then turned off it to deploy into line, Arthur and his staff rode ahead until they reined in just outside the range of the Danish skirmishers. It occurred to Arthur that he had not once referred to them as the enemy. The only enemy that mattered was the French, the common enemy of all the nations of Europe, if they but realised it.This conflict with the Danes was a matter of tragic necessity. Britain could not afford to let the Danish fleet fall into Bonaparte’s hands, just as the Danes could not let their national pride be shamed by submitting to British demands. Even so, Arthur decided, there might still be a chance to avoid bloodshed. He turned to his staff.
‘Wait here. I will return shortly.’
Spurring his horse forward, he trotted along the road towards Køge, making directly towards a small party of Danish soldiers spread across the turnpike. They advanced their muskets and eyed him warily as Arthur approached. He slowed his mount and halted no more than ten paces away from them, and saluted.
‘Good day. Is there any man amongst you who speaks English?’
There was a pause before a sergeant nodded. ‘A little.’
‘I am Major-General Wellesley and I have a message for your commander. Would you be kind enough to ask him to speak to me? I will wait here for his reply. Do you understand all that?’