In this connection we must refer to another attack made by the British
upon the luckless city of Copenhagen.
This is not the place to raise the question as to whether governments,
as such, should be governed by a different code of morality from
individuals; or whether “reasons of State” (which are generally the
will of one man) should be substituted with impunity for common
humanity, justice, and the rights of man.
But the impropriety of discussing the question in this place should
not prevent us from declaring that there never was a greater abuse of
force than in the second attack of England on the comparatively feeble
State of Denmark, in 1807. It is only fair to say that a large body of
English subjects condemned it then, and condemn it now; and it is the
English ministry of that day which must bear the blame, in the eyes of
succeeding generations.
In the treaty of Tilsit (1807), France and Russia were put upon a most
intimate and friendly footing; and Russia undertook to act as mediator
between France and England, for the conclusion of a peace, at least as
regarded maritime operations. In accordance with his engagements, the
Emperor Alexander addressed a note to the English government; but his
overtures were very coldly received. Castlereagh, Canning and Percival,
the inheritors of Pitt’s policy, and of his hatred of the French (but
not of his great abilities), saw their power and influence upon the
Continent of Europe decreasing, while Napoleon’s was growing.
They, therefore, determined upon an expedition of magnitude, which,
while it would occupy the minds of the people at home, and thereby
disconcert the plans of the opposition, would renew the terror in which
their arms had been held abroad.
The plan was to renew the attack upon Denmark, as in 1801, but the
operations were to be carried out in an even more thorough and ruthless
manner.
Denmark had joined the new coalition against England, and Napoleon was
at the bottom of it; but no declaration of war was made by England
against Denmark, and that small kingdom, not suspecting any such design
at that moment, was to see all the horrors of war suddenly let loose
upon her. Her sole wrong, in the eyes of the British Cabinet, was the
possession of a navy, still of some strength, which might be used by
the coalition against England.
Denmark was, at the time, observing a strict neutrality, and,
although forced to acquiesce in the condition of things consequent
upon Napoleon’s occupation of northern Europe, had not joined in the
Continental blockade. Mistrusting France even more than England, she
had sent most of her army into Holstein, with a view to causing the
French to respect her frontier. The best policy of England, under the
circumstances, would have been to keep on terms with Denmark, and if
there was any pressure to be exercised to make her take sides in the
great events then transpiring, to leave the odium of such a measure
upon Napoleon. But the British Cabinet resolved to secure the Danish
fleet, at all hazards, and so put it out of the power of that nation or
of Napoleon ever to use it against England.
To give color to their aggression upon the sovereign rights of Denmark,
the British Cabinet alleged that they had knowledge of a stipulation in
the Treaty of Tilsit, which brought Denmark fully into the Continental
coalition; and, as we have said, the expedition was undertaken to carry
off from Napoleon the Danish naval resources, and it was therefore said
to be an act of legitimate defence on the part of England.
In the latter part of July, 1807, Admiral Gambier sailed from England,
with twenty-five sail-of-the-line, forty frigates, and three hundred
and seventy-seven transports, carrying 20,000 troops, commanded by
General Cathcart. The latter was to be joined by seven or eight
thousand more troops, returning from the siege of Stralsund. At this
time almost all the Danish troops were in Holstein; and the English
plan, a well conceived one, was to seize the Belts, with a portion of
the fleet, intercept the passages and prevent the return of the Danish
army to the relief of Copenhagen. Then a strong land force was to be
landed near Copenhagen, and that city to be destroyed by bombardment,
in case she should refuse to surrender.
The English fleet appeared in the Sound on the 3d of August; and
Admiral Gambier at once despatched Commodore Keats, with a suitable
force, to secure the Belts, and prevent all passage from the mainland
to the Danish islands. The fleet then proceeded down the Sound, and
anchored in Elsinore Road. The Admiral sent Commissioner Jackson to
the Crown Prince, then acting as Regent of Denmark, to propose an
alliance, offensive and defensive, with England. He was also to demand
the surrender of Kronberg Castle to the English army, and the port of
Copenhagen and the Danish fleet to the navy, protesting that they were
only to be held until the return of general peace in Europe, and then
to be _loyally_ returned. These outrageous proposals were too much for
the Crown Prince’s diplomatic reserve. “Never in history,” he cried
out, “was seen so odious an attack as is contemplated against Denmark.”
“We may expect more honorable ideas from the Barbary pirates than from
the English government. You propose an alliance! We know what alliance
with you means. We have seen your allies waiting a whole year, in vain,
for promised assistance!”
The Commissioner said that England would pay, cash down, for any
injuries which Denmark might receive in consequence of such an
alliance. “And with what,” said the indignant Prince, “would you pay
for our lost honor, if we acceded to so humiliating a proposition?”
Upon receiving this answer Jackson withdrew, and hostilities at once
began.
The garrison of Copenhagen consisted of about eight thousand men.
There were some regular troops, but the most of the defenders were
volunteers, students and citizens. Entrenchments and batteries were
raised, and armed; hulks were moored in the passes, and others sunk, to
prevent the English ships from coming in. The fleet, the main object
of the attack, was sheltered in the inner basins of the dock-yard. But
the Danish preparations were only intended to resist assault, and were
powerless against bombardment.
The Prince Regent, having taken all precautions which circumstances
permitted, committed the charge of the city and its defences to General
Peyman, a brave and worthy soldier, with orders to resist to the last;
and then hurried away into Holstein, to endeavor to find some means
of bringing the Danish army to the rescue. At the same time General
Castenskiod was ordered to assemble the military of Zealand. But these
untrained levies could be of very little use against the veteran
English troops, and the devoted city was left to the defence of General
Peyman’s small force.
When Jackson returned to the British fleet the word was given, and
a shocking scene of slaughter and destruction ensued. The troops
debarked to the north of Copenhagen. Most of them were Hessians and
other Germans in English employ. It was known that the city could not
be carried by assault without fearful loss to the attacking party, so
the English troops approached, threw up some works, but did not attempt
a regular siege. A bombardment was the means resorted to; and by this
dreadful means the city was to be burned and ruined, until the Danes
submitted. It was now that Colonel Congreve made the first trial, in
actual warfare, of the destructive rockets which bear his name.
On the 1st of September the English preparations were completed.
Cathcart had erected a battery of sixty-eight pieces, forty-eight of
which were mortars. He then summoned the city, demanding the port,
arsenal and fleet, on pain of burning the place. In his letter he
prayed General Peyman to yield, and not force him to extremity against
a place filled with non-combatants, women and children. Peyman, true
to the trust confided in him by the Crown Prince, and sustained by the
indignant citizens, answered the summons in the negative.
On the 2d of September, in the evening, the bombardment commenced,
and a hail of shell, rockets, and other missiles fell upon the city.
The best answer possible was made, but the English were so sheltered
by their defences that their loss was nothing. It continued all night
and part of the next day; and was then suspended to see if Peyman yet
thought of surrender.
Hundreds of Danes had been killed, and many destructive fires had
occurred. Many of the finest buildings were destroyed, and the whole
of the male population who were not in the trenches were exhausted by
the labor which they had undergone in trying to extinguish the flames.
Peyman resolved to hold out still, and the bombardment was renewed on
the evening of the 3d, assisted by the bomb-vessels of the English
fleet. With a short interval it was continued until the morning of the
5th; a population of 100,000 being all this time exposed to a rain
of missiles. The destruction was, of course, very great. About two
thousands persons were killed, many of them old people and children,
while some of the finest buildings and several hundred dwellings were
destroyed. At last, having made an heroic defence, General Peyman, to
save the rest of the city, determined to capitulate. By the articles
agreed upon the English were to remain in possession six weeks, the
time estimated as necessary to fit out the vessels which were to
be taken away. The Danes saw this spoliation with helpless rage and
anguish, and when they turned away, they had the sight of their half
ruined city before their eyes.
The English fitted out, and carried off, sixteen ships of the line,
about twenty frigates and brigs, and all the stores, rigging, timber,
and ship-building tools from the dock-yard. The ships on the stocks,
and the condemned hulks were burned. It took 20,000 tons of transport
shipping to carry off the stores which were taken.
The casualties of both the British army and navy, in this expedition,
amounted to only fifty-six killed, one hundred and seventy-five
wounded, and twenty-five missing.