‘The city was in flames; it rained shells everywhere. The Danish war-sloops answered bravely to the fire of the English vessels. Suddenly a shell struck the Danish craft _Indfoedstretten_, and blew it up. A horrid, lurid light illuminated the sky, and immediately both the sea and the shore were covered with human and different wreckage, the blood of the former tinging the green waves. Had the explosion occurred a few moments earlier we also should have been victims of it, for while they were towing our Dutch vessel into port, we had been compelled to go on board the _Indfoedstretten_ to have our passports examined. ‘Meanwhile, the fighting became more terrible and relentless, and I, scarcely more than a lad, stood looking on, rooted to the spot and spell-bound, when suddenly some one tapped me on the shoulder, addressing me in German at the same time. I looked round and beheld the prince royal, who, in the confusion of the moment, had got separated from his suite. He still had his grey dress on. When he recognised me, he addressed me in French. “What are you doing here?” he asked. “I am trying to acquit part of my debt, monseigneur,” I answered. “Very well,” he retorted; “try to get this paper to Captain Albert Turach. Look, follow my finger. He is standing there on the shore, ready to take the command of a floating battery. Run as fast as you can, and remember the word _Augenblicklich_.” ‘“How did you say it, prince?”’ ‘“_Augenblicklich._ It signifies instanter. You’ll simply tell him the word, and hand him my order.”’ ‘I was already on the run. Turach received the order, and flung himself into a skiff whose men were only waiting for a leader to push off. When I came back to my former vantage-point, the prince royal was gone. I noticed him on a floating battery, whence he contemplated the action and animated by his presence and example the proud and generous populace ready to give their lives under his eyes. To me personally, the sight of this young and valiant prince was practically a second expiation of my mocking laughter in the park of Fredericksborg. ‘I need not remind you of the results of that action; the Danes covered themselves with glory, but the slaughter was terrible. More than six thousand men perished in it. The city was burning in ever so many places. Burghers, soldiers, students harnessed themselves to the pumps, carried barrels of water, and unsuccessfully tried to extinguish the flames. Finally, Nelson, to stop the bloodshed, and to prevent the wholesale destruction of Copenhagen, sent a _parlementaire_ to the prince royal.