‘I am coming to it. A few days later, my “father” booked our passage for Stockholm, but contrary winds delayed our departure. In the night of the 2nd April 1802, we were suddenly awakened by the noise of a well-sustained bombardment. Naturally, we all got out of bed and went on deck to make inquiries. The slowly-coming dawn confirmed our uncertainty. The whole of the English fleet, under the command of Admirals Parker and Nelson, and favoured by the wind and tide, had defied the batteries of Kronenburg and forced the passage of the Sound, an enterprise hitherto deemed impossible. The formidable squadron, perfectly visible from the city which it could shatter to pieces, came to summon Denmark to give up her fleet or to dissolve there and then her treaty with Sweden and Russia. ‘Consternation became general among us; it only wanted a sign from the English admiral to capture or to sink us. Nelson scorned such a cheap victory, and during the _pourparlers_ sloops were sent to tug in the merchant craft. A few moments later we were in port, and immediately afterwards the naval engagement began. If the attack was headlong and well-directed, the defence was not less heroic. Every inhabitant rushed to arms to repulse the odious aggression; all ranks commingled; there seemed no difference between noble and artisan, merchant and ordinary burgher. They were full of zeal; their hats displayed the motto: “All for one; one for all.” The royal prince showed the greatest courage during this bloody struggle, a struggle so little expected by him. A descendant in a direct line from the English sovereign, his capital and fleet were suddenly threatened by the orders of his uncle without there having been anything hostile to lead up to this catastrophe. As far as the peace of states is concerned, there does not seem much to be gained by family alliances and ties of blood. ‘It would have been dangerous not to take part in this enthusiastic resistance, and the moment we had regained our inn I asked my “father” to let me have my share of the fighting, to which proposal he offered not the slightest objection. Armed with a sword which might well have dated from the period of King Knut, which had been lent to me by our hostess, I repaired to the jetty. It was from that point I beheld a naval battle in port, the most horrible spectacle, I should say, the imagination could conceive. ‘Never had Denmark been engaged in such a murderous struggle; never, perhaps, had the Danes an occasion to display their national courage more nobly. Ardent and indefatigable, to judge by the enthusiasm that animated them, they might easily have been mistaken for a population of heroes. As for me, standing stock-still at the far end of the jetty, my long sword, which might well have served as a lance, balanced on my shoulder, I felt that I was doing outpost duty. No one seemed surprised. Younger lads than I contended for the honour of being entrusted with such perilous positions.