Inferno

Chapter 50

Nyholm naval dockyard, Copenhagen

From where he stood Kommandorkaptajn Johan Krieger could see nearly every ship in the Danish battle-fleet stretching away in long rows – a sturdy, martial vision that made him swell with pride.

However, the Danish naval officer was a realist. He’d seen service fighting the English as a youngster in the Caribbean and during the hard days leading up to Nelson’s ferocious action against Copenhagen six years earlier. These veterans were no match against the might and experience of the greatest sea-power in the world but, by God, if called upon again, they would sail out and do battle to the finish, like true-hearted Danes.

But it wouldn’t come to that. The British fleet that had been sighted off the Sound had politely anchored and exchanged salutes with Kronborg Fortress, hardly the act of a force determined to fall on a neutral country. Besides, the English weren’t like the French who, under a ruthless Napoleon Bonaparte, had few scruples about sovereignty.

Krieger had been made first lieutenant of Prinsesse Louisa Augusta, an elderly ship-of-the-line, but she’d been delayed in returning from Kristiansand on the Norway station. Left between appointments, he was now strolling restlessly past the rows of ships. In deference to the frayed political situation, and to avoid provocation, they’d been prepared for winter early, topmasts sent down, de-stored and tidily moored fore and aft. But all gear had been carefully laid along in the adjacent Nyholm storehouses and it wouldn’t take long to rig them for war.

There was the 90-gun Christian VII, blessed with remarkable sea-handling and beautiful stern-works, and beyond, Valdemar and Norge, both 80s, either of which could stand against any English 74-gun battleship. A dozen and a half of those beauties, many more frigates and others put the Danish Navy easily in the top four or five in the world. Not bad for such a tiny nation!

The officers’ mess was noisy and more than usually crowded, all ranks loudly giving opinions on latest developments. Krieger nodded pleasantly to his friends and sipped his chilled akvavit.

The happy chatter died away as urgent voices were heard outside. A breathless army major burst in and announced, ‘His Royal Highness has this hour returned from Kiel!’

It caused consternation. The Crown Prince was sworn to defend the Schleswig border far to the south against the menace of the massed French divisions: anything that could have torn him from that duty must be serious indeed.

Another soldier marched in and demanded, ‘His Royal Highness bids all senior officers attend on him immediately.’

Krieger glanced across to Steen Bille, a thick-set, crusty commodore, who stood up quickly, looking about the officers. His finger stabbed out at this one and that, including Krieger, then beckoned them imperiously.

The room was full, juniors like Krieger standing at the back. An unnatural quiet settled. Then the door opened and Crown Prince Frederik appeared, to massed scraping of chairs. ‘Sit – there’s not much time,’ he snapped, striding over to the head of the table and taking the carved, gilded seat. ‘This assembly is now a council of war.’

‘War, sire? The English have not yet-’

‘War, Generallojtnant Bielefeldt. I have it from an impeccable source that their fleet is here in the nature of a threat, to secure a preferential pledge of security to the British nation in violation of our neutrality. I intend to resist that demand with all the force at my disposal.’

‘Sir, are we sure that the fleet is not intended for the Baltic as we are expecting?’

‘No. Why do you think it lies idle at anchor in the Sound when it should be pressing on to face the Russians? It is at us that it’s intended, be certain of that, sir.’

‘Er …’

‘Generallojtnant?’

‘There are military transports attached. There are those who believe that the English are picking a quarrel that will allow them to capture Sj?lland for use as a base in a Baltic war.’

‘That’s as may be, sir. Do attend to what I say. The urgent business of this convening is to mount a defence of the city of Copenhagen should they assault it. To resist strongly has three most valued objectives. The first, that our sacred honour is sustained in the face of intolerable provocation, the highest cause of all. The second: Bonaparte will see we defend our neutrality strictly, with no fear or favour to any, and therefore can have no reason to intervene. The third, and most immediate, is that the English will see we mean to repel any assault and thus any descent will be contested hotly, causing them many casualties.’

‘Your Royal Highness knows that his loyal army will do its duty, but these are grave odds, sir.’

‘I know that, damn it! Have you not the wit to see that if we hold out for a little longer we’ll have the autumn gales as will scatter their armada, and then the ice will come? Time is not on their side.’

‘Sire.’

‘Then to business. General Pike being indisposed, I hereby appoint Generalmajor Peymann to supreme command of the defence of Copenhagen.’

There was a stir around the table. An engineer officer in his seventies who, as far as anyone knew, had never heard a shot fired in anger.

‘Can’t even ride a horse!’ muttered the young major next to Krieger.

‘Enough!’ snapped the Crown Prince. ‘The general is chosen because he has closest knowledge of the defensive works, having constructed many of them himself.’ He turned to the old man. ‘Well, do take your place, Generalmajor.’

Peymann lifted himself heavily from his seat and went to the other end of the table, his face lined with anxiety.

‘And under him shall be Generallojtnant Bielefeldt in command of all land forces – and Kommandor Steen Bille, the sea defences. I leave subordinate appointments to these officers.’

Bille’s eyes glowed in anticipation and Krieger grinned. He was a masterly seaman with a fine record. If the English wanted a fight they’d get one.

‘I shall be back in one hour to hear your dispositions.’

All heads turned to Peymann, who hesitated. Then, with a nervous twitch of his collar, he said, ‘You heard His Royal Highness. It’s to be expected the English will make a sally in force at the harbour entrance as will gain them entry to the city. I’ll give half an hour to the commanders of the land and sea forces to confer and plan separately against this event, after which we will come together to give outline to our strategy of defence, which will be submitted to our commander-in-chief, the Crown Prince.’

Bille found a room and sat down with the naval officers.

‘So! If the English think to force the havnen they’ll get a bloody nose,’ he growled, tracing out the defensive lines around the harbours on his campaign map.

Things had changed much since Nelson had closed with the city and cannonaded its defences to a standstill. The harbour itself was formed by the Strait of Kallebo narrows between the mainland of Sj?lland and the outer island of Amager. Stout bastioned city walls enclosed Copenhagen and its harbour, and on the Sj?lland side at its entrance the massive Citadel was armed with heavy mortars and guns. Opposite were the Sextus and Quintus batteries. Working together they could lay down a merciless rain of fire on any who dared make to enter.

Further out to sea was the fearsome seventy-gun Trekroner battery, sited to dominate the deep-water approaches, and firmly on the two-fathom line further south another, the Provesten fort with ninety cannon, defied any attempt to fire into the city from down the coast. Two blockships were in place athwart the entry channel, while up and down the wall and ramparts countless guns bristled outward.

Bille straightened. ‘I dare to say we’re impregnable. But I was here when we last faced them and it’s not a good idea to underestimate the English. Krieger, I want you to set up a defence in depth with cutters, rafts and, of course, gunboats.’

The Swedish wars in the Baltic had left all players respectful of the gunboat design evolved for the conditions of that sea – sudden calms, short seas, multitudes of islands for concealment. The boats were pulled by up to eighty oarsmen and with a gun of size mounted fore and aft, which would normally be found in a ship-of-the-line, and fully manoeuvrable, they were a formidable threat in any kind of numbers.

‘I’ll do that, sir. I’ll take Lynetten as my base.’ This was a smaller sea fort handily placed by the mouth of the harbour. On a sandbank, it would provide good shelter for a swarm of craft.

‘A pity our fleet is laid up – we’d never get them to sea in time. Damned uncivilised of the English not to give us warning of their call. Still, I’m sanguine we’ve done enough to make ’em think twice.’

They reconvened, and Peymann summoned the military to make first presentation.

Bielefeldt didn’t waste words. ‘Sir, this is our disposition. Almost our entire army is in Holstein, too far to arrive here in time. Within the city we have five and a half thousand regular troops and can count on a further two and a half thousand others. Should we call on volunteers for a Copenhagen burgher militia we could probably muster another four thousand, including eight hundred students from the university, a total of some twelve thousand.’

He wiped his brow. ‘However, we have in the country nineteen battalions of landev?rn to call upon if necessary and with this force I’m sanguine we can hold the city until our brothers from Holstein arrive.’

‘Very good, Generallojtnant. Kommandor Bille?’

With hard, thrusting flourishes, the sea officer outlined the situation and his intentions. So forceful was his delivery that several grim smiles surfaced around the table and Peymann’s lines of worry eased. ‘Thank you. I can tell you all here that I’ve established we have sufficient provisions in the Citadel storehouses to withstand a siege of a month or more. Our water supply is secured by pipes from the country and the municipal authorities have been most co-operative in the article of regulation.’ He sat back. ‘Then it seems we have something of value for His Royal Highness’s consideration. I shall send word.’

It was not for some hours that the Crown Prince appeared, pale-faced and clearly distracted. ‘What is it, Peymann? Have you anything for me?’ he said curtly.

Humbly, the elderly officer laid before him plans and preparations, but was cut off in the details.

‘That’s good, Generalmajor. I can see I chose well. Then it seems I can safely leave the defence of Copenhagen in your trustworthy hands, sir.’

‘L-leave?’ stammered Peymann.

‘Why, yes. I’m preparing my departure from Copenhagen in order to rejoin my troops in Kiel. You are left as paramount leader, and if the English make motions towards the city your duty is to defend it and its loyal inhabitants at all costs. Are my commands understood?’

‘They are, Highness, but-’

‘I have no time to discuss this further. Carry on with your preparations and God be with you.’